There was quite a dense woods leading up to the crown of the hill and the boys would of course have to abandon their wheels down by the road.
“I guess I’d better take this precious home-made loaf of bread along with me,” Hugh said as they thrust their bicycles in among the bushes near by. “It’s got such a fine smell of baking about it that some wandering hog might find it out. Wouldn’t I be mad clear through to get back here and find it gone!”
“Say, that does go right to the spot,” remarked Billy as he leaned over to sniff at the paper-covered package. “If we should happen to get lost now, like the babes in the wood, why that same bully loaf’d keep us from starving to death. Any danger of your losing the trail, Arthur?”
“Well, I’ve been up here so often that I’ve marked it pretty well,” replied the other laughingly. “Suppose you lead the way, Billy, while I talk with the Chief.”
“Sure I will,” Billy sang out cheerfully. “Always willing to be a victim. Anything to oblige, boys. ‘Walk this way,’ please, as the bow-legged salesman said to the haughty lady, before he started to show her through the store. What impertinence! I should say you had worn a plain trail, Arthur. A greenhorn could follow it in and out, past logs, and around holes. You had your Injun woodcraft down fine when you laid this out.”
Unconsciously the two who were engaged in some serious conversation, lagged more or less, though perhaps it was Billy, anxious to reach the crown of Cedar Hill, who displayed an unwonted animation in ascending the rather steep rise, and see what the final result of the other scout’s labors had been.
Once or twice Hugh—glancing up—saw that Billy had passed from sight, though he could still be heard clambering through the brush beyond. Occasionally some exclamation told that he might have clumsily stumbled over a root or a clinging vine. They were all of two-thirds of the way up when there came a sudden shriek from Billy that made the other boys stop short and look startled. Billy, however, was so prone to play practical jokes that no one knew how to take him. He could be plainly heard tearing headlong down the face of the wooded hill, and in a few seconds came panting back, his usually florid face white with sudden fear.
“What ails you, Billy?” demanded Hugh, puzzled to account for his actions.
“Seen a garter snake, did you, Billy?” jeered Arthur. “Oh! plenty of that kind around here, but they can’t hurt you. Thought it was a rattler, now, I bet you?”
“It’s a b-e-a-r—a great big black bear ’bout ten feet tall, and standin’ on his hind legs awaitin’ to hug a feller to death!” came from the white lips of the scout who had led the van of the trail followers.