MAROONED.
"W-w-what d'ye think it was, Thad?" asked Bumpus, presently; and the fact was very evident that his teeth were rattling at a lively rate, warm though the afternoon sun was at the time.
Bob White said nothing, only he tried to read the face of their leader. Bob gave promise of making the finest kind of a Boy Scout. He was next door to fearless; or at any rate would scorn to allow his natural feelings to sway him when he believed a sense of duty required his doing something.
"Well, at first I thought it might be somebody calling for help," replied Thad, slowly; "but you notice that it wasn't repeated. And that makes me think now it must have been some fishhawk screaming. I've known them to make a queer sort of a sound."
"Just what it must have been," remarked Bob, nodding his head in approval.
Bumpus, however, did not seem to be wholly satisfied.
"Say, it went right through me," he observed. "I just seemed to have a cold feeling run up and down my spine, like you'd emptied a cup of ice-water down my neck. Think we've seen enough of the old island by now, Thad? Hadn't we better be turning around, and heading back for camp?"
"Well, I should say not, Bumpus, bless your timid soul," replied Thad, laughingly. "Why, that only makes Bob here and myself the more anxious to land, and look the island over. If there's anything queer around, we ought to find out all about it. Am I right, Bob?"
The answer the Southern lad made was very suggestive. He simply dipped his paddle into the water again, and with several sturdy movements of his arms sent the boat forward once more, headed directly for the shore of the island. Bumpus drew up his plump shoulders, but he made no protest. It would not have done him much good if he did try to say anything. No doubt they would have told him that the walking back to camp was good, and no dust blowing, if he wanted to return.
He simply gripped both sides of the boat, and held on, while keeping his eyes fastened on the shore they were now fast approaching.
No further sounds were heard, save the water lapping among the rocks, and giving out a musical gurgling in the rising wind.
"There's a good landing where that little sandy beach runs along," Thad remarked, as they drew in closer.
"So it is, suh," replied the paddler. "I was just making up my mind to head foh it when you spoke. Here she goes, now."
Thad was half standing, and as the prow of the boat grated on the sand he made a flying leap for the shore. Bumpus looked as though he half expected to see some terrible monster dart out of the brushwood, and seize upon the scout-master. He heaved a sigh of relief when nothing of the sort came about; and even condescended to waddle ashore himself—that is the only word capable of doing justice to the clumsy actions of Bumpus when in a narrow boat like a canoe.
So the three scouts now stood on the sandy beach. Bumpus scanned the bushes, but Thad was observing certain marks on the little sandy beach that told him others had drawn a boat up in that same place before now. In fact, to judge from the freshness of the signs, it had not been very long ago since men or boys were here.
Now, there is something in the makeup of certain lads calculated to draw them on, when there is an element of uncertainty in the air. Thad had been curious to explore this island before; and now that he had seen signs of others having landed, he began to feel doubly anxious. Perhaps it was the "call of the wild" in his composition; or possibly he had inherited some trait bordering on a love of adventure, handed down from some remote ancestor who may have roamed the world seeking excitement.
"Are you really going in there, Thad?" asked Bumpus, his face showing signs of uneasiness as he surveyed the fringe of bushes under the dense trees that overhung them.
"That's just what we expect to do, Bumpus," replied the scout-master, firmly. "You may pull the boat up further, and follow after us; or if you prefer staying by the boat, you can do that, just as you please. Ready, Bob?"
"Yes, suh, and more than anxious to be on the move," answered the Southern boy.
They turned their backs on poor Bumpus, who found himself in a quandary, hardly knowing which course would be the worse for him to pursue, tag at the heels of these two adventurous comrades, and meet with what danger they might unearth; or stay there alone with the boat.
He quickly decided that it would be far more risky to separate from his comrades. If the island did contain savage beasts, which Bumpus really believed to be the case, they would be sure to select such a nice juicy morsel as he promised to afford, in preference to one of the other fellows. And it horrified him to think of being pounced on while all by himself.
"Hold on, Thad, I'm coming along!" he called out, hurrying as best he could so as to overtake the other scouts, who were already plunging boldly into the heavy growth.
Being eager to keep in close touch with the others, Bumpus quickly overtook them, and panting with the effort, jogged along as close as he could get. At any rate, if trouble should spring out upon them, there was always a satisfaction in having loyal comrades along. And Bumpus noted with considerable satisfaction that both of the others had armed themselves with stout cudgels, fully three feet in length, with which they would be able to give a good account of themselves if the occasion arose when defense would be necessary.
"Oh!" exclaimed the fat boy, when with a sudden whirr a partridge arose close beside them, and flew away with a rapid motion.
He saw the Southern boy throw his stick to his shoulder, as though taking aim.
"Oh! what a dandy shot that would have been, Thad, if I had had a gun!" Bob exclaimed, eagerly. "I could have dropped that beauty like a stone."
"Well," replied the other, "since it's the close season on partridges perhaps it's just as well you didn't have a gun. But I wouldn't be surprised if we got up more'n a few of those fellows here. The island would be a great place for their nests."
"Then I wish they'd let a poor feller know when they meant to scoot off," remarked Bumpus, wiping his face with his handkerchief; "because that one nigh scared me to death, he went buzzing off so sudden-like."
"You'll never make a hunter, whatever else you turn out to be, Bumpus," Thad remarked, smiling, as he turned to look at the red face of the perspiring fat boy.
"I don't know," the other said, with a vein of regret in his voice; "I always wanted to roam the woods, and do all that sort of thing; but then you see Nature, she wasn't kind to me. I don't seem to be made just right for tramping. And I must say some things do make my heart jump like fun. Oh! well, there are other things a scout c'n do, perhaps,—findin' boats, and lookin' for bee trees mebbe."
"Lots of things, Bumpus," replied Thad. "You can't change your make-up; and so you'll have to do what suits you best. Shall we head to the left here, Bob; or take to the right?"
Secretly Thad was keeping his eyes on the ground part of the time as he pushed on. He had an idea they might find footprints that would lead the way to some old cabin or hangout, where perhaps the game-keepers used to live when they were employed to patrol the district, so that no one hunted or fished against the orders of the rich man who owned the country around.
"Well," replied the other, after taking a glance about him, "I don't suppose it matters much which way we turn, since we propose to look over the entire island one way or another, suh. Say we turn off here to the left, and circle around. Or if you would rather have it, we might separate and spread out like a fan."
Bumpus drew in his breath with a half gasp. It looked so very gloomy around the spot which they had reached that not for worlds would he drift away from his association with one or the other of his companions. Besides, they might need him in some way or other; because there were some things he could do, if he wasn't cut out for an agile fellow because of his heft.
"No, we'd better all keep together, I think?" Thad answered, much to his relief. "You see, we're in a strange situation, and even if we put in half an hour looking this place over, what does it matter? Time isn't so valuable as all that. The others will wait for us, and take things easy. Allan has promised to show them some Indian picture writing this afternoon, and I know he'll amuse the bunch so they won't miss us."
"Now, I'd be sorry to miss that same myself," remarked Bob; "because he's got me worked up to top notch fever about it, and I wanted to try and read the sign he left behind him. I've sure heard a heap about that picture writing, and what fun scouts have trying to make out what it all means. But there don't seem to be anything out of the way on this same island, suh. A sure enough pretty place, and would make the finest camp-site you ever saw."
"Perhaps we may move over here to-morrow," said Thad. "I've several reasons for thinking that way."
"One of which is that you'd like to get rid of that bear," chuckled Bob.
"Don't be too sure of that," answered the other; "we might want to fetch him over here with us. He did us one good turn when he frightened that Brose Griffin crowd away, and who knows but what he might repeat?"
They came out on the other side of the island, and had seen no sign of any sort of human habitation. On the way back again to the other shore Thad took a different route, so that he believed they would thus cover the better part of the territory that went to make up the lake island.
"Sure we're heading right, Thad?" asked Bob, presently.
"Oh! my goodness I hope we don't get lost!" exclaimed Bumpus, in alarm.
"It's all right," replied Thad, with not a trace of uneasiness in his voice; "we are pretty nearly across now; and unless I've made a bungle of it, we ought to come out right on that same little sandy stretch where we landed."
"I can hear the waves beating against the rocks, and they sound right loud now," remarked Bumpus.
"That must be because the wind has been getting stronger all the time we've been gone; and even now you notice the trees begin to thin out. Tell me, isn't that our sandy stretch right ahead there, and am I a good woodsman or not?"
"You brought us through as straight as a die," said Bob, admiringly; "and just as you say, Thad, that's the same spot we landed on."
"But tell me," broke in Bumpus, "if that's so, where's our boat, fellows?"
The others stared, and well they might, for although they easily recognized the pretty little beach, it was now entirely destitute of any sign of a boat!