CHAPTER XXII
SCOUTING IN EARNEST
"Hurry up, old molasses! Winter's coming."
"Hit up the pace, won't you, please, Bobby?"
Bobolink grinned. This was apparently just what he liked. When, however, he saw a restless movement among some of the more impatient, as though they were stooping down to gather chips to shy at him, he knew the time had come to open those sphinx-like lips, and speak.
"Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen," he began, when a roar interrupted him, so that he pretended to hastily remedy his error—"I mean just gentlemen; I have the honor to report that your committee waited on the brothers of the Aldine troop, though unbeknown to their keenest scouts, and watched the entire operations at their called meeting this morning."
"Good! Fine! Keep it up, Old Leatherstocking!"
"We learned that they are working like mad to excel in all the arts that interest the scouting fraternity. Competitions were being run off in every branch of the woodcraft business. We saw fires started, camps made, trails followed, boats mended, fish flies tied, rods that had been made by single members; we heard of all sorts of clever things that were being done in Aldine that would give the troop marks in the grand round-up. We listened to splendid speeches from the really efficient scout master, and our hearts warmed within us toward the gallant foe against whom we must soon be pitted; just as our bones ached because we had to squat there high up in that tree over their camp, like a couple of roosting monkeys."
"Hear! hear! Bully for our monkeys! They're all to the good!" shouted some of the more demonstrative boys, waving their hats wildly.