[CHAPTER VIII]
THE “BLUES” WIN!
Miles, a small village about four miles distant from camp in a straight line, was on the opposite side of Indian Lake. A study of the map had shown that if the trip was made entirely afoot the distance was nearly seven miles, whether one passed around the southern end of the lake or the northern. Some light advantage appeared to lie with the northern route, since one could finish the journey over the railroad track and so save a possible half-mile. Mr. Gifford and Sam had tossed a coin for choice of routes and the former had won and selected the northern way. Almost on the minute of the half-hour the two parties, shouting good-bye, set off from in front of The Wigwam, the “Reds” hiking briskly away toward the road that led to the Indian Lake station and the “Blues” skirting the lake to cross the playing-field and ultimately reach the road which led by many turns and angles about the southern or lower end of the lake.
It had been agreed that after half of the distance had been covered each party should be divided into a first and second group, the slower walkers in the latter, each group in charge of one of the councillors. This was to keep the weaker boys from straggling and, possibly, getting lost. Filled with enthusiasm and a physical energy generated by three days of inactivity, the “Blues” set off at a pace which would have left them tired out before half the distance had been traversed had Sam allowed them to continue. But once away from camp he took the lead and made the fellows suit their pace to his.
“We’ve got seven miles to do, fellows,” he said, “and maybe more, and the idea is not only to get there first, but to get there in good condition. If we overdo it now we’ll suffer later. Three miles an hour over the roads we’ll have is plenty fast enough. Some of you could do better than that and some of you will find it a little too fast. After a while we’ll divide into two squads and Mr. Brown will take one and I’ll take the other. Those of you who feel the pace can take it more slowly with the second crowd. If any of you have to stop you must tell Mr. Brown or me, so you won’t get left behind. There isn’t any reason why you should, though, because there’ll be a rest of a few minutes every half-hour.”
Steve Brown joined Sam, and, turning occasionally to make sure that none of the nineteen youths who comprised the squad was straggling, the two councillors and the boys about them chatted and laughed and had a very merry time of it in spite of the steady downpour of rain. The first half-mile was across country and, toward the end of it, the going was mostly up-hill. At last, though, they came suddenly on the road, a narrow and ever-winding country lane just wide enough for one vehicle. Fortunately, the soil was mostly sand and the roadway was consequently fairly dry. At least, there were few of the puddles and muddy stretches which they were to encounter later on. The woods closed in on each side of them, although occasionally they had a brief view of the lake, grey and sullen, a half-mile or so below. It was shortly after reaching the road that Sam called the first halt after consulting what he called his “one-jewelled watch.”
Some of the boys had not yet found their second wind and were glad to perch themselves for a few minutes along the side of the road. The weather was by no means chilly and those whose raincoats were of rubber found them much too warm, especially as they also had their blanket-rolls across back and chest. Several begged to be allowed to remove their coats, but this neither Sam nor Steve thought it wise to consent to. A few minutes past three they went on, some of the older and stronger fellows inclined to grumble over the slowness of the pace. The road presently turned abruptly toward the east and led them out on the summit of a sparsely-wooded ridge from which they had a view of the lower end of the lake and of the country on the other side. On a fair day, as Steve said, they might have seen the camp very easily, for they had reached a point nearly halfway around the end of the lake and much of the eastern shore was visible. The councillors discussed the advisability of cutting across near the lake and trusting to pick up the road again later, and the boys were much in favour of the plan, but it was finally decided that, although they might gain in distance, the more difficult travelling would equalise matters and that it would be best to keep to the highway even though it insisted on fairly turning its back on their destination.
By the time the next rest was taken some straggling was already in evidence. Several of the younger fellows showed a disposition to slow down, and Sam and Steve decided that at the next stop the party should be divided into the two squads as planned. It was then nearly twenty minutes to four and they judged that they had covered about three miles and a half, although as no one had a pedometer save young Chase, and his was, as he explained, absolutely unreliable, this estimate was mostly guesswork and, as indicated later, probably too great by the better part of a mile. At five minutes past four, they having then struck fairly westward once more, with, as they believed, the lower end of the lake well behind them, another halt was called and Steve recruited for his rear-guard.
Strangely, however, few of the nineteen would allow that they were at all tuckered. Horace Chase and Billy White confessed to blistered heels, but were all for keeping up with the first group. The councillors had to take matters into their own hands and, using their best judgment, relegate eight of the nineteen to the rear squad. Most of the eight objected strenuously. They felt themselves utterly disgraced. Mutiny was in the air and the two councillors had to be very stern and short-spoken before affairs were finally settled. Then Sam with his eleven started off a bit more briskly and Steve, waving a laughing good-bye and threatening to get there first, after all, held his overeager and disgruntled squad to what they grumblingly assured him was a snail’s-pace.