“You better take it and run to the lake, Wes! They’re coming fast. I can see them way off.”
“You don’t think I’m going to let you stay here all alone, do you?” Westy fairly screamed. “What kind of a scout do you think I am, huh?”
“I’m safe enough here. You grab that bird and beat it as quick as you can. There’ll be something doing if they find the bird lying there hurt and you too! Two of us can’t fit in here and besides there isn’t time. You run and wait by the lake until they go away again, then you can help me get out. Oh, hurry, Wes, please, they’re almost here!”
Not having any other choice, Westy was spurred into action by Artie’s pleading voice. He took the bird up carefully and started on a run, skillfully dodging in and out of the trees and bushes down along the trail. This he did to camouflage his presence from the two eagles, who had already descended upon the cliff.
He maneuvered his descent without discovery, looking back from time to time to reassure himself that Artie was safe from detection.
Reaching the lake, he went over to the canoe, where they had beached it. To his dismay he found that in their excitement they had turned it over after getting out, leaving the end that had held the rope hanging over the water’s edge. Consequently it had dropped out and floated away and probably by this time it was floating its merry way down into the subterranean depths of Eagle Lake.
“Can you beat that for luck?” Westy questioned aloud. “I can’t paddle the darn thing across either with this bird in my hands, and I’m afraid to lay it down. I’ll have to get around to the other side of the lake so I can keep my eye on Artie. I better hurry so I can tend to the poor thing. It’s still alive all right; I can feel something moving.”
He was out of breath between talking to himself and running, but finally he reached a spot where he could command an excellent view of the hollow. He waited a while, apprehensively. His patience was soon rewarded for he became aware of something moving within the hollow, and then perceived it was Artie waving his handkerchief to assure him of his safety.
Westy drew a deep breath, the first he had stopped to take since he had left Artie. He hated to think of having been forced to leave him up there alone.
“Gee whiz,” he said aloud, as he slowly unwound his scarf from the bird, “if we hadn’t stopped to fool we might have made it at that. Jiminy, I wonder?”