LUCKY BRUIN.
"Oh! murder! he's broke loose, and remembers about me!" Bumpus was shouting close to the ear of Thad; and there was a great scurrying in that quarter, as if the fat boy might be trying to hide himself under the blankets.
Thad hurried outside as fast as he could; and in this he was closely imitated by Bob White and Giraffe, who happened to be his other tent mates.
Already Thad had made a most important as well as surprising discovery. Those yells did not appear to be given by Allan, Step-hen, Davy Jones or Smithy. They were fashioned on another key from the well-known voices of these fellow scouts.
Of course, the first and most natural idea that flashed into Thad's mind lay in the direction of the two foreigners, whom Smithy seemed to believe must be Bohemians. Could they have followed the trail of the escaped bear, and entering the camp of the scouts by stealth, were now engaged in administering the beating to the poor animal, as they thought he deserved for leaving them in the lurch?
In one way it sounded like that might be the case, for amidst all the clamor of shouts Thad could detect something like roars or grunts from the bear.
But no sooner was he outside the tent than he realized that this could not be the case at all. The voices were certainly not those of men, but rather sounded like cries falling from boys' tongues. And instead of being raised in anger, they were frantic with fright!
An old moon had risen while the campers slept, so that it was no longer dark out on the lake near by.
The first thing Thad did was to look toward the tree where the bear had been chained at the time Smithy took care of him so neatly. He was standing on his hind legs, and giving tongue to his feelings in deep rumbling roars that seemed to almost make the very air tremble.
"Just listen to 'em go, would you?" ejaculated a voice close to Thad's shoulder, and he turned to find Allan there; while his three tent mates were close behind, all worked up again over this new and exciting mystery of the first night in camp.
"Who in the wide world can it be?" asked Bob White.
"Don't know; but I'm sorry for one of them," remarked Thad; "because he smashed into the trunk of that tree just then; and I rather guess he'll have the marks to show for it a long while."
"And listen to that splash, boys!" exclaimed Step-hen.
"Just as like as not another of the lot slipped and fell into the lake;" spoke up Giraffe, "there he goes splashing like fun, and how he does holler in the bargain!"
"Hark! what is he shouting?" asked Allan.
"Why, he's calling for help, because he thinks the old bear will get him now, sure. I c'n see him near the shore there, kicking up the water like an old stern-wheel steamboat. Say, ain't he the worst scared fellow you ever saw?"
"Don't forget there were a bunch about as bad off as that, a while back," declared Thad; "but he seems to be calling for some one to come back and help him."
"I got it then, and it was Brose!" exclaimed Bob White, who had very acute hearing.
"That explains it all," declared Thad. "Now we know who we have to thank for making all this racket. Brose Griffin and his two shadows, Hop, and Eli Bangs were going to pay us a nice little surprise party visit. Perhaps when we woke up in the morning we'd have found all sorts of things gone, and have to hike back to town to-morrow. But they didn't know we had a bear in camp, did they, fellows?"
"Oh! my, and if they didn't stumble right on the beast!" exclaimed Bumpus, who, not wanting to be left by himself in the tent, had crawled out, after taking a cautious look first. "What a rich joke on Brose and his crowd. I can just see 'em scooting for home for all they're worth. Never catch any of that bunch around our camp again on this trip, that's sure, boys."
"I hope," Thad went on to say as he stood listening; "the fellow in the lake don't go under; it must be Hop; because you know he does limp some, from that broken leg he got last winter."
"Oh! he got out all right," observed Allan.
"Sure thing," added Giraffe; "because I saw him climb up the bank; and there, if you listen, you can hear the silly right now, going whimpering along. Say, what a time we are having, eh, fellows?"
"Who'd ever think so much could be crowded inside a few hours?" declared Smithy; who felt that he would have good reason to look back on this remarkable experience as the crowning feature of his whole life, because he had certainly lived more in the last four hours than all the balance of his years thrown together.
"And boys, don't forget we owe a lot to our guest—what was that you called him, Smithy—Bumpus?" Thad continued.
"Oh! let's change it to just plain Smith," suggested Bumpus.
"But we do owe the old fellow a whole lot of thanks," remarked Bob White. "And in the morning, suh, I intend to see to it that he gets a good filling breakfast, even if I have to cut down my own allowance."
At that Giraffe groaned dismally.
"Oh! say, you don't think of going that far, I hope; and for only a dancing bear; we ought to be able to feed him on the leavings, don't you think?" he asked.
"He'd soon kick the bucket, then, Giraffe, if he waited for any leavings from your platter," observed Davy Jones; "because I notice that you lick it clean every time."
"Listen, do you hear any more shouting?" asked Thad.
Though they strained their ears no one could catch a single sound.
"Guess they've got beyond earshot," remarked Step-hen.
"But you take it straight from me, suh, they're running yet; and I wouldn't be afraid to say that they'll keep it up until they fairly drop," Bob White gave as his opinion; and indeed, all of them agreed with him there.
Then the funny side of the thing seemed to strike them. First one commenced to laugh, and then, as the others looked at him they too started, until the merriment grew, and some of the scouts were holding each other up in their weakness. Bumpus even solemnly declared the bear joined in the general hilarity; he did act a bit queerly, and made a series of sounds that might be construed into bear laughter.
Smithy remarked that the old fellow deserved another feed after such splendid service in guarding the camp.
"There's that heavy cake Step-hen fetched along; might try him on that; and if he likes it, we'll be saved more'n one stomach ache," Davy proposed.
"Why, I didn't think it was so very bad," spoke up Giraffe; and then, seeing the others frowning at him, he hastened to add; "but if you think he ought to be fed again, to keep him quiet, why break off a piece, Smithy."
"A piece!" cried Step-hen, "he gets the whole cake, understand. Talk about base ingratitude, some persons can never feel anything but the empty state of their stomach. Why, that bear saved us the whole of our grub, mebbe, by giving the alarm; and Besides, he scared that bunch so bad they'll let us alone after this. The bear takes the cake, don't he, Thad?"
"He certainly does," replied the scout-master, laughing again.
Smithy found that the chained visitor was perfectly agreeable, for the way he took that heavy cake and devoured, it was a caution.
"Watch him eat, Giraffe," suggested Davy Jones; "he can give you some valuable pointers on how to stow the grub away. You see, his neck ain't like yours, and it takes less time to navigate the channel."
"Huh! I only hope it gives him a cramp, and doubles him up," grunted the other, in more or less disgust.
"Now you're getting one off on me, you think," remarked Davy; for he had been subject to cramps a long time, and never knew when one would attack him, making him perfectly helpless for the time being; and the boys were beginning to notice how accommodating the said "cramps" seemed to be, visiting Davy just when some hard work loomed up in which the victim was supposed to have a part.
"And now what?" demanded Step-hen, yawning, and stretching his long figure.
"Do we go back to our downy couch again, fellows; or is it so near morning that we'd better stay awake?" asked Davy Jones.
"Do you know what time it is?" asked Thad, who had been inside to consult the little nickel watch he carried: "just ten minutes after two!"
"Wow! me to get seven more winks!" exclaimed Giraffe; "and please don't wake me so suddenly again, boys. My eyelids popped open with a bang. If they hadn't been fastened on as tight as they were, I'd have lost one, sure."
"That's the way you wake up, eh?" remarked Step-hen. "Remember the Irishman who heard the cannon fired when the flag went down, and asked what it was. When they told him it meant sunset he said——"
"'Sure, the sun niver goes down in ould Ireland wid a bang loike thot!'" called out Giraffe from the interior of the tent, spoiling the telling of Step-hen's little story, which no doubt every one of the boys knew.
Soon the camp was wrapped in silence again, even the contented bear lying down, better satisfied than ever with his new friends. And that wish of Giraffe's could not have borne fruit, for there was nothing heard to indicate that the bear suffered the least bit of indigestion from devouring the whole heavy cake that would have lain like lead in even a boy's strong stomach.
The rising moon sailed higher in the heavens, and looked down upon the peaceful camp of the Silver Fox Patrol. The little wavelets washed up on the shore with a sweet musical tinkle that must have been like a lullaby to the boys, seeing that even Thad failed to awaken again, while night lasted; and the smouldering camp-fire had to take care of itself from the time of that second alarm.
Some of them would very likely have imitated their habits when at home, and tried to sleep until long after sunrise; only that they were under military rules while in camp.
And so it was the clear notes of the bugle, blown by the now recovered Bumpus, as he alone could blow it, that rang out over the water, telling the sleepers that they must make their appearance for the early morning dip in the clear lake, after which the various duties of the day could be taken up, beginning with the first camp breakfast.