CHAPTER XXIV—THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN
“Somebody’s in trouble!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Makes me think of the time we found Teddy with his foot caught in the bear trap,” said Bluff. “But come on, let’s make for over there, and find out what’s going on.”
With that they started to run. The shouts had ceased. Both boys used their eyes as they hurried along, and pretty soon Bluff cried:
“Hey, what’s that jumping up and down over yonder? Strikes me they look like a pack of dogs or wolves!”
“Oh, Bluff, they’ve got those men up a tree, don’t you see? Perhaps they’ve been there all night. I pity them, if that’s so.”
“Yes; but first let’s see if we can pepper the wolves some, so’s to make ’em tired of hanging around. Be ready to blaze away.”
The half dozen or more animals had discovered their presence by this time. They immediately began to display signs of meaning to clear out, for several ran short distances, to turn and snarl, as though uncertain whether to show fight or not.
Bluff fired, and one of the gray-coated pirates from the Canadian border went limping away. The rest decided they would be wise to put considerable distance between themselves and the owners of those sticks that coughed and sent forth unseen missiles that stung.
Jerry managed to get in a couple of parting shots, and always declared that he hit one of the running beasts, though if so it could not have been a fatal wound since none dropped.
Hurrying forward, the boys discovered a bulky object in the crotch of a tree.
“Why, it’s Bill Nackerson!” cried Jerry.
“Yes, that’s who it is, sonny, or what’s left of him; because I’m mighty much afraid both my feet are frozen. I’ve been cooped up here for hours, while that hungry gang kept watching and jumping and growling all the while. I’m glad you came up. It’ll cheat ’em out of their breakfast, no matter what happens to me.”
“Can you drop down?” asked Bluff, touched by the evident suffering in the man’s face.
“I’ll do the best I can,” the other replied, “but I don’t seem to have any feeling in my feet. If they were a couple of clubs they couldn’t be more useless to me.”
The boys helped him to some extent. Presently Nackerson was sitting in the snow, with Bluff and Jerry trying to get his leggings and foot coverings off so that they might rub the frozen feet with snow to draw out the frost.
“Where are your two friends?” suddenly asked Bluff, remembering that there were three hunters when he and his chum last saw them.
Bill Nackerson groaned.
“I was a fool, and deserve what I got,” he declared. “They wanted to make camp through the storm, and we quarreled. I said I’d stick it out here by the moose, and if the worst came, I’d have something to fall back on. So in the end they went away, and I started to make a shelter the best way I could.”
“Yes; I noticed that somebody had done that,” Bluff told him. “Then the wolves came, did they?”
“When I heard their howls getting closer all the time,” continued the man, “I knew what was going to happen. My rifle had stuck, so I couldn’t work the pump action. It was no better than a club. I started off to see if I could find you boys camping, or come across a bigger tree than the ones around where the moose was lying.”
He groaned again, as though the recollection gave him pain.
“We’re not hurting you, I hope?” asked Jerry; for at the time both were rubbing his feet with snow.
“Oh, no; I wish it did hurt,” replied Nackerson, “because then I’d know there was some life left in my feet. I climbed this tree when I knew the critters were not far away. And here I’ve had to stay ever since. I tried to move around and slap my arms, but my feet began to get numb in spite of me.”
“Don’t you begin to feel a little burning sensation?” asked Bluff anxiously.
“Well, now that you mention it, I believe I do, son. Keep rubbing harder than ever, please. Oh, if ever I get out of this scrape alive it’s going to be a lesson to me. I’ll sure turn over a new leaf, I promise you, and try to do the right thing from now on.”
“Glad to hear it, Mr. Nackerson,” said Jerry, impressed by what he believed to be the man’s sincerity.
Bluff did not feel so sanguine. Perhaps he remembered an old rhyme that he had heard long ago about the Evil One, and which ran to the effect that when Satan was sick he would be a saint; but that the desire faded out of his mind as soon as he was well again.
By degrees the man told them his feet were beginning to hurt him. They persisted in their labors until Bluff decided that the rubbing had gone on long enough.
“And now, what’s the next question?” asked Jerry.
“If you are meaning to try for your home camp,” Nackerson told them, as a pleading expression came into his face, “I hope you’ll let me go along. Don’t desert me here. You might as soon have left me to the wolves as abandon me now.”
“Do you think you could manage to hobble along with us?” asked Bluff.
“Sure I can; watch and see how well I’m able to walk,” the sportsman hastened to say.
He did the best he could, and if his gait was uncertain, the outdoor chums knew that he would walk better after he had become limbered up.
Accordingly, they started, heading back along their trail, so as to come upon the spot where the horns of the big moose lay. Their intention to carry these all the way to the cabin had not changed.
It did not take long to separate the horns from the skull. They felt pretty heavy, once Jerry started to hoist the burden on his back.
“We’ll tote them as far as we can, anyhow,” Bluff declared, “and then if they get too heavy we will find some hiding place, where they will be safe till we come back after ’em.”
With this understanding, they pushed on. Nackerson was gritting his teeth and summoning all his grit to the fore, in order to keep his lower limbs moving. As Bluff had anticipated, he began to improve as he went along.
When an hour or two had passed and they knew they were far on the road toward home, the boys became more determined than ever to save the trophy. They wanted to see the look of astonishment on the faces of those in the camp when they came marching in.
That would be much more satisfactory than simply telling the story of the successful hunt, that had been followed by such stirring events.
First one boy assumed the load and after a certain time, when he found it was telling upon him, he would fix it upon the other’s back.
“We’re going to earn this thing twice over, you know,” grunted Bluff, after he had in turn disposed of it and Jerry was staggering along under the burden.
“Well, everything tastes all the better when you’ve had to go to a lot of trouble to get it,” the other chum replied, as he buckled to his task.
These spells were growing shorter, which told plainly enough that the boys were drawing closer to the point of exhaustion. Still they kept encouraging each other by remarking that it was only another mile or so now, because of a certain landmark they recognized, or something of that kind.
“Just think what the boys will say when they see us lugging these horns into camp!” Jerry observed, as well as he could, considering the fact that he was panting with the exertion his burden compelled him to put forth.
“And at seeing who we’ve got towing along behind us, too,” muttered Bluff; for to him the gathering in of Bill Nackerson in the way they had was more remarkable than any other happening that had befallen them.
“Every step counts,” added Jerry hopefully.
“Whenever you’re feeling tuckered out, don’t hesitate to say so,” Bluff told his chum, “and shove her right along this way. By making these changes frequently we’ll keep things going.”
“I don’t believe Bill can stagger along much farther,” whispered Jerry. “Perhaps you’d better offer to lend him a hand.”
All feeling of animosity toward the big sportsman had died out of their hearts by this time. He looked so forlorn as he limped along, trying to repress the groans welling to his lips, that they could only feel pity where once had been disgust and distrust. Bitterly had Bill Nackerson paid for his evil deeds. Both boys only hoped the lesson would be remembered.
Bluff insisted on giving the man a shoulder, and after that Bill seemed to get along better. He even brightened up some, and wondered if his feet could be saved to him, after all.
“Half a mile, about, and we’ll be there,” said Bluff, to bolster up their spirits.
Presently both boys began to recognize landmarks that had been noticed on previous occasions. Bluff brought these features of the landscape to the attention of his comrade.
“I want you to take the horns just when we come in sight of the cabin, Jerry,” he declared, with self-denial that the other appreciated.
“That’s mighty good of you,” Jerry said feelingly, “’specially since they belong just as much to you as to me. I’m not going to be greedy. I insist that from this place on we carry them between us.”
That pleased Bluff very much, for he liked to know he had a chum who could match his own generosity. So it happened that from that point forward they carried the horns of the giant moose between them, spread out in the most conspicuous way possible.
“There, I can see smoke coming up out of the chimney, which means there’s somebody home!” remarked Bluff suddenly.
“Yes, and, oh, Bluff, seems to me I can get a whiff of cooking away off here!” Jerry gasped. “I don’t think I was ever so hungry in my life. I hope they’ve cooked an extra supply, because here come three mighty savage fellows to dinner.”
“Ready now, to give a shout!” cried Bluff.
A minute later, at a signal from Bluff, the boys raised their lusty voices in a series of whoops that created no end of bustle within the cabin. The door was flung wide open to give egress to three excited boys. How they stared at those massive moose horns carried so proudly between the pair of successful Nimrods; but most of all were their wondering eyes fixed on the shuffling figure of Bill Nackerson, as he came limping dolefully in the rear!