“They’ll know soon enough,” he was saying to himself, “let them find it out for themselves.”
Allan was the first to make a discovery. He threw a quick, knowing look in the direction of the scoutmaster, who answered with a nod and a smile.
Pretty soon Giraffe began to smell a rat.
“Well, I declare,” he remarked, “seems like I’ve set eyes before on that there queer old tree with the big hump on its trunk. Can’t be possible there could be another just like that anywhere this side the Rockies.”
No one saying anything, Giraffe went on to remark:
“Yes sir, it’s the same identical tree, I’d take my affidavy on that. See here’s where I sliced off a bit of the bark with my hatchet, as we went along. Now, ain’t that funny, we’ve made a grand circle ourselves, just like we thought he’d do; and crossed our own trail right here.”
“Have you any idea where this tree is, Giraffe?” asked Thad, meaning to test the memory of the observing scout.
“Let’s see, when was it I noticed the same?” and Giraffe frowned with the effort to whip his memory. “Oh! yes, sure, I recollect it all now. Why, you see Thad, it was just after we’d left that place where Bumpus had hung up that dead cat.”
“Wow! there it hangs right now; and yes, as sure as you live, the wind brings us a whiff of it, too!” cried Step Hen. “Say, Thad, was this what the buzzards scented far off, and gathered here to make their dinner off?”
“Just what it was, and they’re welcome, for all of me,” replied the patrol leader; evidently greatly relieved over something. “But come on, boys, we’re going to start on a new track from here, one we haven’t been over yet. I’m in hopes we may have the great good luck to learn something about our chum, before we make another grand circuit. My first guess didn’t pan out very well.”