Under Boy Scout Colors

by Joseph Bushnell Ames

The scoutmaster smiled a little. “That’s the way I feel myself,” he said; “so we’ll consider that part settled. We’ll meet here, then, next Saturday morning at half past eight, prepared to put in a strenuous day. I’ll tell the different patrol-leaders what tools are needed, and they can look them up during the week. There’s another thing. We’ll have to buy considerable material, such as cement, boards for the floor and roof, window- and door-casings, and the like. That money should be earned by the troop, and I think it would be a good plan for Ward, MacIlvaine, and Phelps to meet at my house to-morrow afternoon or evening to discuss ways and means. Is that agreeable?”

It proved to be, when the question was put to vote and decided unanimously in the affirmative. The meeting ended with the enthusiasm over the project unchecked by this placing of it on a strictly methodical and businesslike basis.

That enthusiasm continued throughout the week, and when the crowd assembled on Saturday, Bennie Rhead, who was housed by a bad cold, was the only absentee. The others, laden with axes, saws, hatchets, an adz or two and some wide wood-chisels until they resembled a gang of pioneers, were in high spirits and eager to begin work. Their interest was heightened by the production of a plan Mr. Curtis had drawn up, showing a cabin twenty by sixteen feet, with a big stone fireplace opposite the door, two windows, and a double tier of bunks, one on each side of the entrance.

During the week the scoutmaster had gone over the ground with Mr. Grimstone and marked certain trees which were to be taken out, mainly white pines from six to eight inches in diameter that were too closely crowded to develop properly, so there was no delay in starting work. Immediately on reaching the point, the entire troop was divided into groups of three or four, each under the leadership of a boy who knew how to handle an ax. As soon as he felled a tree the others trimmed off the scanty limbs, sawed it into proper lengths, and stacked these up in piles on either side of the glade.

By noon the piles had assumed such proportions that after luncheon half of the wood-cutters were called off and set to notching the ends of the log, about eight inches from the end, and this was work in which everybody could take part. The notches were made on opposite sides of the log, about eight inches from the end, and were a quarter the thickness of the timber in depth. The logs averaged pretty much the same diameter, so that, when fitted together at right angles with the under notch on one side resting in the upper notch on the other, the whole length was snugly in contact, with scarcely any chinks to be filled in.

“That’s the great advantage of pine,” said Mr. Curtis, when he had explained the method to the boys. “Almost any hard wood will have bumps and twists in it, but the trunks of pines growing as thickly as these are practically straight from one end to the other.”

“Are we going to build up the four walls solid, and then cut holes for the door and windows and fireplace?” asked Paul Trexler, who had evidently been reading up on the construction of cabins.

The scoutmaster shook his head. “That’s the way many of them are made, but I could never quite see its advantage. It’s a mean job, sawing the openings, and the full-length logs are lots harder to handle than shorter ones, to say nothing of the waste of timber. Of course there’ll have to be full-length ones under and over the windows and over the door; but if we measure accurately, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t leave these openings as we go along, and so save time and labor. Spiking the door- and window-casings to the logs will hold them together firmly enough.”

The cabin had already been staked out, and when, presently, the lower logs were set in place it was amazing what a difference the sight of that simple rectangle made. Instantly the visualizing of their dream became nearer and more concrete to the boys, its possibilities more apparent. They could see at a glance its size and shape and spaciousness. Entering through the door space, one could say that here would be the bunks, there the windows, and that gap opposite, the fireplace. It stimulated every one to renewed efforts. Blisters and tired muscles were forgotten in the eager desire to get another tier of logs into position. When Mr. Grimstone stalked into view, toward the middle of the afternoon, he was greeted by urgent invitations to “Come ahead and see how the cabin’s going up!”

The old man responded stiffly, but it was impossible to maintain that attitude long in the face of the boisterous, whole-hearted enthusiasm of twenty boys. Inside of ten minutes he was chuckling over the awkward efforts of one scout to handle an adz and showing him the proper method. Within an hour, one would never have known him for the crusty, crabbed recluse who had been at odds with the Hillsgrove boys for more than a generation. He had shown the scouts a splendid place to get rocks for the fireplace, and told them how to make, with two poles and some cross saplings, a sort of litter for carrying the larger ones; he had made the rounds of the wood-choppers and watched them interestedly, criticizing, suggesting, and even cracking a dry joke or two at their expense. But his interest seemed to center in the building operations, to which he finally returned. When Mr. Curtis followed him a little later, he paused at the edge of the glade, a quiet smile curving his lips.