CHAPTER VIIIHOW THE DAY DAWNED
It was with no pleasant sensations that the boys found themselves for the second time adrift in the darkness. Not that they had any fears of the journey that lay before them; that was a trifling matter compared to the loss of sleep and the indignity of being routed out of their snug beds through no fault of their own.
There was no open complaint, however, and for ten or fifteen minutes the silence of the night was disturbed only by the low swish of the paddles, as the four canoes moved abreast down midstream.
"This thing is getting monotonous, and I hope it won't happen again," remarked Ned finally, in a very grave voice. "If you fellows had listened to me this morning we would be sound asleep this minute in some place down the creek, instead of floating here in the dark with a forced paddle of ten miles ahead of us."
"It's hard luck, that's a fact," muttered Clay.
"No luck about it," retorted Ned. "It's pure recklessness, and Randy is chiefly to blame."
"No more than the rest of you," growled Randy. "I wasn't the only one that wanted to stay."
"I don't mean that," said Ned, "though of course the trouble began there. I refer to your foolish act a little while ago. If you hadn't fired that salt cartridge the men would have gone quietly away, and we could have remained where we were until morning. Now you have made a bitter enemy, and if he don't give us future annoyance it will only be through the intercession of Batters' brother—provided he has enough influence over his companion.
"I feel glad in one way that we stayed. Batters and Joe are good hearted fellows, if theyarerough on the outside, and it was a pleasure to become acquainted with them. I hope their brother Bug will turn over a new leaf some day, and be allowed to go home.
"But that wasn't what I started in to talk about," resumed Ned after a brief pause. "The fact is, Randy, that you must be more careful in future. You have been to blame for every one of our scrapes so far, and if you intend to keep this up we may as well abandon the cruise and go home. This is the second warning I've had to give you. The other one don't seem to have done much good."
"I think you are getting pretty meddlesome, Ned Chapman," exclaimed Randy in a sullen tone; "when I want any advice from you I'll ask for it."
"Don't give way to your temper, now," returned Ned quietly, "I'm talking for the common good, and you know it in your heart."
"Ned's right," exclaimed Clay. "This cruise has been a chapter of misadventures from the start, and every one of them lies at your door."
Randy drove his paddle into the water with furious strokes, and was soon a dozen yards ahead of his companions.
"I'll give you fellows a chance to get out of the dumps," he called back angrily. "I hope you'll be in a better humor when we meet again."
Then he drove the canoe forward so rapidly that the dip of the paddle was soon faint in the distance.
"Let him go," said Ned. "He can't come to any harm, and it will give him a good chance to cool down. That's the main trouble with Randy. Up comes his temper at the least word of rebuke, and though he knows that he is wrong, his self will and anger won't let him admit it. I believe he will take this warning to heart though."
Clay and Nugget did not reply. The former's conscience was a little bit uneasy, for he knew that his imprudent utterance had started Randy off in anger.
The three boys paddled on silently for a while, and then Nugget managed to ground the Imp on a concealed ledge of rocks. It required the united efforts of his companions to dislodge it, and even then it was a labor of nearly five minutes' duration. A canvas canoe must be handled very carefully when among the rocks.
About this time the moon came out from a bank of fleecy clouds, and the light—feeble though it was—enabledthe boys to make better speed, and to keep a watch ahead for shoals.
A moment later they wished with all their hearts that the moon was on the other side of the globe, for a bend in the channel revealed a fire on the right bank, a short distance below. The flames were partly screened by a fringe of bushes, but not sufficiently to prevent the ruddy light from flashing far across the water.
"That must be Bug Batters's camp," whispered Ned.
"It will be a ticklish operation to get by if the men are on the watch. We can manage to, though, if we are prudent and don't lose our heads. Don't breathe a word or make any noise with your paddles. Just stick close to me."
Ned headed for the left bank, which was thickly wooded, and paddled slowly and noiselessly along the very edge. The others followed his example, and in a short time the three canoes were directly opposite the fire. Two dark figures squatting beside it could be plainly seen. The dancing reflection of the flames revealed the boat pulled partially out of water, and stretched far beyond mid channel.
It was a thrilling moment. Discovery at first seemed inevitable, for the men were facing the creek. But as no alarm came, and the canoes crept deeper into the friendly gloom, the boys began to breathe more easily.
They did not relax their caution until the fire wastwo or three hundred yards in the rear. Then Ned signified that the danger was over by paddling boldly and swiftly toward mid-channel.
"I hope we have seen the last of Bug Batters and his companion," he said, "and I really believe that they won't give us any more trouble."
"I'm glad to hear you say so," replied Clay. "That's my opinion, too. If we put about ten miles between us and them we ought to feel safe."
"Better make it twenty," remarked Nugget uneasily. "Then we will be twice as safe."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," laughed Ned. "I say, fellows, it must have been a pretty stiff ordeal for Randy to go by that fire, within sight of the man he peppered with salt."
"Well, I should say so," returned Clay. "When we catch up with him we'll ask him how he felt."
"But that won't be for some time to come," said Ned, "unless we move a little faster. Try to keep up with me, and don't lag behind."
He started off with short, quick strokes, and after a brief race the others settled down abreast of him.
The moon outlined the limits of the creek very distinctly, shining first from one side, then from the other, as the channel followed its tortuous course. The water continued deep and fairly swift, and during the next hour and a half the boys must have paddled no less than six or seven miles.
Nothing was seen of Randy, but this fact was easily explained, since he had gained considerable on hiscompanions at the start, and had moreover a light and easily running canoe.
Presently the sky to the eastward became faintly streaked with gray, and the close night air was succeeded by a fragrant and delicious breeze. Dawn came on apace, heralded by the singing of birds, and the splashing of fish in search of the early insect. The mist began to rise from the water, and in some distant barnyard hungry cattle lowed.
"There is some compensation in night travel," said Ned. "It will be a treat to see the sun come up. Two or three miles more and then we'll hunt a snug camping place, and have a plunge in the creek, and a good breakfast on top of it, and sleep until afternoon. I don't feel very tired just now, but I'm ravenously hungry."
"So am I," echoed Clay and Nugget in one breath.
As the daylight advanced the boys paddled on with light hearts. In the long level stretch that was now ahead of them no sign of Randy was visible. As the next bend—an unusually sharp one—drew near, a dull, roaring sound was heard.
"That must be a bit of swift water," observed Ned; "I hope it's long enough to give us a good spin."
"But won't it be dangerous?" asked Nugget uneasily.
"Of course not," replied Clay. "There couldn't be any danger on a small stream like this, and besides Batters told us everything was smooth for twelve miles ahead."
It is more than probable that when Batters made this statement he had in mind his own safe and bulky craft, which could have stood any amount of rough usage without upsetting. But this version of the matter did not occur to the boys. They confidently paddled on, hoping to find a stretch of swift water that would give them a lift on their journey.
Just at the commencement of the curve a spit of rocks and trees jutted out from the right shore. As the boys were whirled swiftly around this, the first brief glimpse of what lay beyond proved far from satisfactory.
The creek narrowed to half its former width, and the greater part of even this contracted channel was rendered unnavigable by a long bar of gravel and grass, over which an inch or so of water crawled sluggishly. The main channel—only half a dozen feet wide—headed abruptly to the right, and swept at breakneck speed in a perfect half circle under the outwardly projecting base of a steep and wooded hill. Here and there the bushes hung down to meet the madly tossing waves, and swayed violently.
It was already too late to turn back, and it was equally out of the question to cut across the swift rushing current and gain the shallow bar. Speedy disaster would have resulted fromthatstep.
Ned was half a canoe's length in advance, and without a second's delay he swung the bow of the Pioneer around to meet the curve of the channel.
"Paddle toward the left!—the left!" he shoutedhoarsely to his companions. "Keep your heads down when you come to the bushes."
Ned had no chance to say more. His own affairs required his undivided attention. With a dizzy jerk he swung into the half circle, rising and falling with the huge waves. A few tremendous paddle strokes deflected him to the left, and fortunately he cleared the outer fringe of bushes.
Just when the worst seemed to be over the Pioneer ran broadside on a submerged rock, tipped instantly, and out went Ned head over heels.
He was dragged clear to the bottom of the rapids before he could gain a foothold. Then, waist deep in water, he grabbed the Pioneer as it drifted by him, and waded with it to a narrow landing place at the base of the hill.
Even less fortunate was Nugget. The dizzy whirl of the current and the jolting motion of the waves so terrified him that he dropped his paddle and clutched the combing with both hands. Then, as the bushes directly ahead caught his eye, he threw up his arms and seized them.
The next instant the canoe was whisked from under him, leaving him clinging to the frail support, shrieking with terror and bobbing up and down on the waves. He remained in this position only a few seconds. Clay's canoe struck him obliquely, and the concussion caused it to swing broadside and upset. Both lads were rolled over and over to the foot of the rapids, where Ned helped them and their canoes to shore.
CHAPTER IXA SAFE SHELTER
For a moment the three wrecked Jolly Rovers could only stare blankly at their dripping clothes, and at one another. The whole thing had taken place so quickly that they did not as yet realize the extent of the misfortune.
Finally Ned and Clay broke into a hearty laugh, while Nugget sat down on a rock and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Hullo, there!" cried a familiar voice, as Randy appeared from behind a patch of bushes a few yards down the shore. "Great Cæsar! what a mess you fellows are in!"
"Thanks to you," replied Ned. "Why didn't you come up the creek and warn us?"
"That's just what I was on my way to do, 'pon my honor it was. I couldn't get here a minute sooner. I upset in that beastly place myself, and was carried down below those bushes. Look at that!" Randy pointed to his muddy feet and wet clothes. It was evident that he was speaking the truth.
"Well, what's done can't be undone," said Ned."We must make the best of it. I'm afraid, the water has spoilt a good deal of our stuff."
"You can count yourselves lucky if your canoes aren't injured," rejoined Randy. "The rocks tore the keel nearly off of mine, and it leaks like a basket."
"Then we are in for a long delay," exclaimed Ned vexatiously. "It's unfortunate just at this time, when we ought to be four or five miles farther down the stream."
"You won't think so when I show you the place I've found," replied Randy. "We could camp there for a month, and no one would be any the wiser. It's over on the left shore where the current first landed me. I had a look at the spot and then waded to this side with the canoe."
"The first thing is to get dry clothes on," returned Ned. "The morning air is too cool for comfort."
"Down below here is just the place you want then," said Randy. "A big gravel bar. The sun shines on it beautifully."
This statement brought a smile even to Nugget's face, and without delay the boys proceeded down the creek.
As it was impossible to get any wetter they waded, pushing the canoes ahead of them. The gravel bar was twenty yards below, in mid-channel, and sure enough the first rays of the sun fell full upon it.
The canoes were speedily denuded of everything they held, and the gravel was soon strewn with water soaked bread, crackers, blankets, fishing rods, writingpaper, and envelopes. The other provisions, being incased in jars, were uninjured; and so also were the extra clothes, thanks to the oiled canvas bags in which they were wrapped.
The boys quickly made the change, and stretched out their wet garments to dry. The canoes were placed bottom up to drain, and after satisfying himself that the Water Sprite was damaged beyond immediate repair, Ned suggested that Randy should point out the place he had discovered.
The latter was only too willing, and when the boys had followed his instructions by rolling their trousers above their knees, he led them through the shallow water toward the left shore.
As they advanced nothing was visible but the low bank, densely covered with bushes and young timber. Randy was several yards in advance, and all at once he stooped and disappeared. The others followed his example, and when they had waded with bent backs under a heavy screen of bushes, they were amazed to find themselves in the mouth of a good sized stream.
The water was knee deep, and flowed gently over a bed of sand and pebbles. For a distance of sixty or seventy feet inland the stream was three or four yards wide; then came a deep circular pool fed by a brawling waterfall that dashed impetuously down a mossy incline of rocks. On all sides were inviting clumps of bushes, and slender trees bending over their weight of foliage, while from branch to branch swung foxgrape vines.
Near the head of the pool was a grassy open spot shaded by half a dozen monster shellbark trees—a perfect little Eden. In fact the whole scene was so entrancing to these lads, who well knew how to appreciate Nature's most charming moods, that they stood still with the cool water surging against their knees, to look and listen.
The sunlight filtered obliquely through the leaves, gleaming here and there in the dark thickets like stray gold, and shimmering on the eddies of the pool. The air was fragrant with the scent of wild flowers, and from every direction came the music of birds and the busy chattering of squirrels.
"I knew you fellows would fall in love with the place," said Randy. "Just think of spending two or three days here—or maybe a week. There's nothing to prevent it. Under those shellbark trees is a grand place for a tent, and here is water enough to float fifty canoes. The bushes completely hide the entrance, and when we are all fixed snug I'll defy Bug Batters or any one else to find us in a month. What do you say, Ned? Do you think it's necessary now to go farther down the creek?"
Ned drew a long breath.
"I think this is the most beautiful spot I ever saw," he replied. "I'll stay here a week if the rest are willing."
The restwerewilling—emphatically so. Clay immediately began to indulge in visions of trout fishing farther up the stream, which must have its source inthe mountains. Nugget declared it was a good place to rest, while Randy expressed an opinion that game was plentiful in the vicinity.
Having waded to the edge of the pool, where the water deepened abruptly, the boys returned as they had come, and were soon back on the gravel bar. They were too hungry to go to the trouble of making a fire, so they breakfasted on damp crackers and dried beef, and found them very palatable, too.
Then, as the sun had already dried the things, the canoes were loaded and pushed up the mouth of the stream. The boys took good care to remove every trace of their presence from the bar, and to deftly rearrange the screen of bushes after passing through.
The tent was soon staked under the shellbark trees, and the canoes were carried out beside it. The Jolly Rovers now felt as safe as though they were fifty miles down the creek. Being pretty well exhausted by the interruption of the previous night and by their long paddle, they made pillows out of their blankets, and went to sleep on the grassy floor of the tent.
But it is not an easy matter to turn day into night, and so the boys found it. Ned awoke about noon, and threw the flap open so that the sun could stream into the tent—as much of it at least as came through the thick foliage. It was sufficient to rouse Randy and Nugget. Clay was missing, but as his fishing rod had also disappeared, no alarm was felt over this fact.
Of course, dinner immediately suggested itself, soNed started to make the fire, while Randy inspected the supplies to see what was available.
"Damp crackers and cold meat are about all we can count on," he announced dismally. "There are only a half a dozen potatoes here. You might boil some oatmeal, though."
"We must get along with what we have," replied Ned. "This afternoon some of us must make a foraging expedition. We can't be very far from a farmhouse."
The fire was soon blazing merrily, and just as Ned placed the coffee pot on the bars, a cheery whistle rang through the woods, and Clay appeared at the head of the pool.
"See what you lazy fellows have missed," he exclaimed, holding up a string of speckled brook trout. "I caught all those in the last two hours, and tramped more than a mile up stream to get them."
The boys were delighted at this unexpected addition to their dinner, and the spotted beauties were soon ready for the frying pan. Hunger made a piquant sauce, and the crackers, meat and fish vanished in short order.
"I intend to let you fellows wash the dishes this time," said Ned, when the meal was concluded. "I'm going after supplies. We certainly need them badly enough. Did you see any signs of a farmhouse when you were up the stream, Clay?"
"No indeed. The woods are thick in every direction, and I have no doubt they stretch clear to themountains. It's awfully wild and lonesome along the stream."
"No use in trying that direction then," replied Ned. "I think I'll go down the creek in my canoe."
"Let me go with you," said Randy. "You may have a big load to carry back you know."
Ned hesitated an instant, and then gave his consent. He really preferred to be alone, but he saw that Randy was very sorry for his recent ill conduct, and wanted to make what amends he could.
Clay loaned Randy his canoe, and promised to repair the Water Sprite during the latter's absence. Then the foraging expedition paddled out into the creek, equipped with tin pails and canvas sacks.
Clay and Nugget were at no loss to find occupation. It required a good half hour to wash and dry the dishes, and after that a big stack of firewood was piled up. Then the Water Sprite was placed across two logs, and Clay proceeded to make the needed repairs. Having screwed the keel firmly in place, he thrust cotton under its whole length with his knife blade, and then put on a plentiful coating of white lead.
"There!" he exclaimed, as he surveyed his own work with satisfaction. "That canoe won't leak a drop in the morning. I say, Nugget, let's go fishing a little while. It's only five o'clock, and the boys won't be back for an hour or two yet."
Nothing could have pleased Nugget more. He made the proviso, however, that Randy's gun should be taken along.
"I don't know what you're afraid of," said Clay; "but I'll humor you anyhow."
He shouldered the weapon, first looking to see that it was loaded, and started up the stream. Nugget trudged behind with the two fishing rods.
Half a mile from camp the boys stopped by a deep pool that presented a very tempting aspect. The bushes and trees were dense all around it.
"This is where I caught my first fish this morning," whispered Clay, as he put a nice fat worm on the hook and dropped it in the water.
Almost instantly the line tightened, and the slender rod bent. Clay gave a quick pull, and something shiny whizzed through the air, landing with a dull flop some yards behind the boys.
"That was a big fellow," exclaimed Clay. "It flew clear off the hook. Get it for me, Nugget, will you? I want to catch another."
Nugget obligingly dropped the hook he was baiting, and crawled on hands and knees into the thicket.
A few seconds later he burst out, yelling wildly for help, while a crackling of bushes behind him told plainly that something or someone was in close pursuit.
CHAPTER XA TRAMP ACROSS COUNTRY
Nugget dashed by Clay without stopping, and crossed the stream, close to the lower end of the pool, in two or three frantic leaps.
Clay was frightened himself, but observing that the rustling noise in the thicket had ceased, he boldly stood his ground, taking the precaution, however, to exchange his fishing rod for the gun.
"What's wrong?" he demanded, turning warily toward Nugget, who was on the opposite side of the stream with one hand clasping the low boughs of 3 pine tree.
"There's some wild animal in there," cried Nugget hoarsely. "It looked at me with its shining eyes, and then growled. Shoot it quick, before it comes out."
Just then the rustling in the thicket recommenced, and with wonderful celerity Nugget disappeared into the heart of the tree.
But the creature, whatever it might be, was going in the opposite direction from the pool. This emboldened Clay, and without hesitation he started in pursuit, paying no attention to Nugget's appealingcries. Guided by the threshing of bushes he pushed on for ten or twenty yards.
Then it suddenly occurred to him that the animal might be a wildcat or even a bear, that had strayed down from the mountains. A close encounter of this nature was by no means to Clay's liking. He stopped, and was just about turning back, when he saw a dark object passing through a break in the thicket about thirty feet away.
The shadows were too deep to afford a good glimpse of the animal, but Clay did not hesitate. Drawing the gun to his shoulder he took quick aim and fired.
When the smoke cleared the creature had vanished, but from a distance came a queer grunting noise mingled with the hasty crashing of the bushes.
"I believe that was a bear," muttered Clay, "and unless I'm greatly mistaken I put a few shot into his hind quarters."
He stood listening until the sounds had died away, and then retraced his steps toward the pool, satisfied that no more trouble was to be apprehended from the unwelcome prowler.
Nugget was still in the tree, and came down very reluctantly, even when he knew what had happened. Then the boys shouldered their fishing rods and hurried back to camp, arriving there just as Ned and Randy paddled up the mouth of the stream.
Clay's adventure—which he related with conscious pride—caused somewhat of a sensation. Randy andNugget wanted to break camp at once, and Clay was more than inclined to side with them.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ned. "I don't believe it was a wild animal at all, and even if it was it would hardly come near here again after being shot at."
"Then what could it have been?" demanded Clay a little sharply.
"Some stray domestic creature, as likely as not," answered Ned.
Clay did not reply. He was far from unwilling to accept this version of the affair, though he still had his doubts.
The others were reassured by Ned's words, and when the fruits of the foraging expedition were taken from the canoes all else was forgotten but supper.
"Won't we have a feast?" said Randy. "Just see here, fellows. Fresh, yellow butter, a pail of milk, three pies, two loaves of bread, a cup of cheese, a picked duck, and potatoes and apples! We had a time to get them, though—a mile and a half down the creek, and half a mile over the fields."
It was nearly dark when supper was ready, and the meal was eaten with such slow enjoyment that nine o'clock arrived before the last of the dishes were washed and put away. Then the tired boys went to bed, after securing the tent flaps with more than usual care.
No alarm disturbed their sleep that night. Wednesday dawned clear as a whistle. Before the sun was fairly up the boys took a plunge in the cool depths ofthe pool, and the result was such a crop of voracious appetites that Randy predicted another foraging expedition before the day was over.
After breakfast Ned sat down on a stone, and spreading a lengthy paper on his knees, began to study it intently.
"What have you there?" asked Randy.
"A map of the Cumberland Valley," replied Ned. "Do you know, we almost forgot about our mail arrangements? It's a good thing I remembered it this morning. If this stream we are camping on now is Otter Run—and according to the-map it is—then West Hill is only half a dozen miles due east of us.
"That is the first place we were to expect letters, and we won't get any nearer to it than we are now. I think I'll walk over. You may go with me, Clay, if you like. The distance is too much for Nugget, and it's Randy's turn to stay in camp."
No objection was made to this arrangement, and all hurriedly produced paper and pencils and sat down on the grass to write letters home.
"I'm asking for a cake," said Randy. "Where shall I have it sent?"
"Carlisle," answered Ned. "We will be there next week. Tell them to make it a big one."
"And not to forget to put icing on it," added Clay.
"Oh, that goes without telling," said Randy laughingly. "They know what I like."
In half an hour all the letters were sealed and addressed. Then Ned and Clay brushed off their clothesand put on neckties, greatly to Randy's amusement.
"What are you laughing at?" exclaimed Ned. "Don't you know that we may be invited out to dinner at West Hill? I wish I had a dress suit with me."
"What a pity you haven't," said Randy mockingly. "Nugget will lend you his yachting cap."
"Of course I will," said Nugget in all seriousness. "Say, Ned," he whispered, coming up close, "I—I have a white shirt in my bag and a dotted vest. I thought they might come in handy. You are quite welcome to them, you know, if—"
Nugget's indiscreet confession went no further. Ned rolled on the ground, choking with laughter. He actually couldn't help it.
Clay and Randy had heard every word, and poor Nugget was finally obliged to take refuge in the tent.
"This won't do," said Ned, struggling to keep a sober face. "We must be off. I hope you won't get in any fresh scrapes while we are away, Randy. You had better stay about camp. You may look for us back some time this afternoon—not later than four o'clock."
"Oh, I won't have time to get in mischief," laughed Randy. "It will take all day to write my log book up to date. I haven't touched it since night before last."
It was about half past nine o'clock when the boys started. They paddled across the creek and landed at the foot of the hill. Randy accompanied them in theWater Sprite, so that he could tow the canoe back with him.
"Just you fellows sing out," he said. "I'll hear you and come across."
"All right," returned Ned, as he commenced the steep ascent of the hill, with Clay at his heels.
Reaching the summit they turned and waved their hands to Randy, who was slowly paddling toward camp, far below them.
Of the camp itself not a vestige could be seen, even from this elevation.
Then the boys set their faces toward the east, and strode briskly through the pine forest that covered the level plateau. For a mile or two the land was very rugged and lonely. Then open fields began to appear here and there, and an occasional farmhouse nestled amid orchards in a valley, or standing boldly against the sky from a hill top.
Such implicit faith did Ned place in his map that he shunned the roads, and did not think it worth while to stop at any of the farmhouses to ask information. With a view to reaching the village in the most direct manner, he cut straight across country, skirting fields of grain and corn, it is true, but taking everything else as it came—hills, ravines, orchards, and meadows.
And all this time the boys were making one of the most foolish blunders that can well be imagined—taking into consideration, of course, the peculiar nature of the creek and the constantly shifting scenerythrough which they were passing. Later on, when the consequences of their thoughtlessness stared them in the face, they wondered how they could have been so blind.
When the farmhouse bells began to clang from distant points the boys knew that it was half past eleven o'clock.
"We have surely covered six miles in two hours," said Ned. "West Hill can't be far away. No doubt we will see it from that next ridge."
But when the ridge was gained no village was in sight. Something else was visible, however—a narrow country road, running at right angles to the direction from which the boys had come; and nailed to the fence was a sign post, inscribed in crooked black letters as follows:
To West Hill3 Miles.
There was nothing for it but to go on, and that they did in a weary, dispirited manner.
"The map can't be wrong," said Ned, "the trouble is that we veered a little too far south in our course. We'll make a nearer cut of it on the return trip. Walk a little faster, Clay; it will be a tight squeeze to reach camp by four o'clock."
It wanted a little less than three hours to that time when the boys reached the little cluster of six houseswhich comprised West Hill. The signboard had probably told only half the truth in regard to distance—as country signboards usually do.
The postoffice was, of course, combined with a produce store. At this time of day its only occupants were the proprietor and a grizzled old farmer puffing at a corncob pipe.
The letters were soon mailed, and in response to Ned's inquiry he was handed a weighty hat box addressed to Randolph Moore, and a batch of half a dozen letters.
"I'll bet a dollar that's a cake," said Clay. "It will tickle Randy."
"It wouldn't tickle him if he had to carry it about nine miles," replied Ned ruefully, "and the box says 'handle with care,' too."
However, the cake could not be left behind, and the boys agreed to carry it by turns.
"How far is Otter Run from here in a straight line?" inquired Ned of the storekeeper.
"'Bout eleven mile," was the reply. "Ain't that kerect, Bowser?"
"It's mor'n that by road," said the old farmer, taking his pipe from his lips. "It's a good thirteen mile to Tanner's Dam, an' the run comes in just below the mill race."
The boys exchanged glances of dismay.
"That map fooled me after all," muttered Ned. "The camp can't be anywhere near Otter Run."
He then explained the situation to the two men, describingas minutely as possible the location of the camp. Both wagged their heads dubiously.
"I can't fix it to a sartainty," said the storekeeper.
"Nor kin I," observed Mr. Bowser. "There air heaps of jest sich runs, an' high hills an' bits of bad water—same as you chaps tell about."
It was evident that no positive information could be obtained, so the boys said "good day," and left the store.
"Under the circumstances we won't risk making a bee line for camp," said Ned. "If we had any landmarks to go by it would be different."
"Then must we go back the way we came?" asked Clay.
"Exactly; we have nine weary miles to tramp. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. Just think of a good supper and a snug bed, Clay, and you won't mind the distance so much."
"It's this confounded box that worries me," muttered Clay. "I believe I'd sooner carry a feather bed. The crazy thing jerks when I stick it under one arm, and if I hug it to my breast it hits me on the chin every few seconds. It's so heavy that the cords cut my hand if I try to carry it that way. I wish I could balance it on my head."
Clay did not exaggerate the perverse and obstinate nature of that hat box. It changed bearers no less than six times before the mendacious signpost was reached, and then its victims were so exhausted that they had to lie down on the grass and rest.
CHAPTER XISEARCHING FOR THE CAMP
It was already past three o'clock when the boys resumed their tramp, abandoning the road and heading across country along the same course by which they had come.
For the first two or three miles they did not pay any special attention to the scenery around them; they were kept busy climbing fences and hills, and taking care of the refractory cake box, which became more and more of a burden every moment. Finally as they were descending a long wooded slope, Ned was amazed to discover that the mountains, instead of being straight ahead, lay off to the right.
"That's a funny mistake," he said. "I wonder how long we have been moving parallel with the creek instead of toward it? Some of those snaky ravines we passed through must have turned us around without our knowing it."
"I hope we haven't lost the path," returned Clay. "Nothing about here looks familiar to me, but then I didn't pay much attention to the scenery this morning."
"Neither did I," replied Ned uneasily, "and I'm afraid that's just where we made a big mistake. If wehad only noted some landmarks as we came along, we would not be in this fix now. It really is a pretty serious fix, Clay. You see we can't tell how long we have been traveling in this wrong direction. The only thing we can do now is to head straight for the mountains, and run the chances of striking the creek in the vicinity of the camp."
"That's true," assented Clay. "I hope we'll reach it before dark. Randy and Nugget will be pretty badly scared if we don't."
They started off again, headed this time in the proper direction. Of course the mountains were visible only at rare intervals, and this added to the perplexity of the situation, since it is very difficult to keep on a straight line unless some guiding point is constantly in view.
It was soon evident that the boys were far astray from the path they had followed that morning. The country was more lonely and rugged—a continual succession of steep hills and dense bits of forest. Few farmhouses were visible, and those only at a distance.
The sun sank lower and lower as they trudged wearily along. The many miles already covered that day were beginning to tell on them severely. They were hungry, too, having eaten nothing since breakfast.
"I wish we had bought some crackers and cheese at the store," said Ned; "I thought about it when we were nearly a mile away, but it was too late then to go back."
"We have Randy's cake," replied Clay. "I'mgoing to break into it if we don't soon reach camp. I don't remember when I was so hungry as I am now."
"Wait a little while," said Ned. "The creek surely can't be far away. The chances are that it lies beyond that next hill."
The hill to which he had reference was a good half mile distant, and the pine trees on its crest loomed sharply against the blue sky. Ere reaching it the boys were destined to be deprived of their burden in a very aggravating manner—and just when they had begun to appreciate its value as a means of satisfying their hunger.
As they emerged from a copse of hazel bushes on a narrow country road, a big black dog bounded from the step of a little cabin a few yards away, and came at them in a most ferocious manner. The boys darted across the road and into a clover field through a broken place in the fence.
The dog followed, paying not the least attention to the loud commands of a woman who stood in the cabin door. When Ned wheeled around the brute was within a dozen feet of him, growling savagely, showing his fangs and teeth, and coming on at a pace which meant business.
Shouting had no effect whatever, and as not a stick or a stone was within reach, the boy's situation was far from pleasant. But he had the cake box in his arms, and on the impulse of the moment he lifted it over his head with both hands and dashed it with all his might at the advancing brute.
It struck him fairly on the nose, breaking open with the force of the blow, and turning the angry snarls into a shrill yelp of pain. Ned did not wait to see the result, but dashed across the field to overtake Clay.
When they turned and looked back from a safe distance, the dog was greedily devouring the broken cake.
"We won't be troubled with that any more," said Ned. "I had to do it, or the brute would have bitten me. I don't think Randy will blame me much."
"It means good-by to our supper though," replied Clay, "and from the way that dog eats, his appetite won't be more than half satisfied when he finishes the cake. We had better be moving on."
This was prudent advice, and the boys made quick time across the field, not feeling thoroughly safe until they were in the shelter of the woods. The ground now began to ascend, and a few moments later they gained the top of the hill and saw the silvery thread of the creek shining far below them.
It took some time to descend, owing to the steepness of the slope, and the rocks and bushes that obstructed the way. When they finally reached the water's edge the duskiness of twilight had come, and they knew that darkness would follow in a short time.
"I haven't the faintest idea where we are," said Ned uneasily; "of course we are above the camp, no doubt of that; but just how far, is the important question. I feel like kicking myself for making that awful blunder to-day. It would be a nice thing if we had to tramp all night."
"You don't think the camp is that far away?" exclaimed Clay in alarm.
"Oh, no," replied Ned reassuringly. "We'll probably strike it before long. The only thing we can do is to follow the creek until we reach it."
Ned's words were far from expressing what was really in his mind. He knew that the camp might be very close in a straight line, and yet miles away by the tortuous windings of the creek. And the latter was the only possible course to take. If they attempted the former they would almost certainly become hopelessly lost.
It was soon evident that the worst might be expected. In the deepening gloom the boys hurried along the shore as fast as their weary feet would take them. Then the blackness of the night settled down on the water and the forests, and they were compelled to move cautiously; for trees and bushes were thick, and here and there a ravine had to be crossed, or a brawling stream.
Ned bravely kept up his spirits, and did his best to cheer Clay.
"It can't be much farther," he would say now and then; "keep your ears open for the roar of those rapids. That will tell us when we are near camp."
But the night lengthened without bringing the welcome sound, and at last the boys found their progress abruptly barred by a steep bluff that fell abruptly into the water. It was not the hill that lay in the vicinity of camp, else the rapids could surely have been heard.The night was very still, except for an occasional noise in the forest that made the boys start.
They were confronted now by two equally unpleasant alternatives—either to remain where they were until morning, or to make a detour around the hill, and try to reach the creek on the lower side.
They chose the latter, and started up through the woods hand in hand. They might have foreseen what would happen. The night was very dark, and after floundering about through the bushes they became hopelessly lost, and knew not which way to turn in search of the creek.
Clay was quite in despair, but Ned persuaded him to move on, and after tramping for ten or fifteen minutes without the least idea which way they were headed, they reached a fence that separated the woods from an open field. As they mounted the top bar and perched themselves there for a short rest, Ned uttered a cry of delight, and pointed out a flickering yellow gleam far across the field.
"Hurrah! that must be the camp," exclaimed Clay, springing impetuously from the fence. "Come on; let's run for it. I don't feel a bit tired now."
"Not too fast," cried Ned warningly. "You're jumping at a rash conclusion now, Clay. That light is in the window of some farmhouse. It stands to reason that it can't be at our camp."
Clay stopped and retraced his steps.
"I was dead sure it was the campfire," he said dismally. "I thought our troubles were over."
"Perhaps they are," replied Ned slowly. "We'll go up to that farmhouse and find out exactly how the land lies. If the camp is not far off, we'll borrow a lantern and push on—otherwise we'll ask for a place to sleep until morning."
This arrangement was thoroughly satisfactory to Clay, and the boys started briskly across the field. They found an orchard at the farther end, and after passing through this and rounding the corner of the barn, they saw the house in front of them.
It stood in a good sized yard inclosed by a picket fence. The light was in one of the upper front rooms, where some late retiring member of the family was no doubt preparing for bed.
"It won't do to make any racket," said Ned, "because there may be a dog around. We'll go quietly in and rap on the door."
The boys softly opened the gate and entered the yard. In spite of the utmost caution their feet made a crunching noise on the gravel path, and the consequence was that before they were half way to the house a dog began to bark furiously. Worse still, the sound came from between them and the fence, so that escape was cut off.
"This way," cried Ned, dashing toward the corner of the house. "We may find shelter in the outbuildings."
He had taken but a dozen steps when his feet clattered on some loose boards. These gave way with a crash, and after a brief drop through empty space, heplunged into ice cold water, going clear under the surface.
The noise of the splitting wood that followed warned Clay of his danger. He stood stock still, trembling in every limb.
The dog did not appear to be coming any nearer, and his shrill barking was now mingled with the clank of chains. All at once Clay comprehended the situation. The brute was fastened to his kennel somewhere near the gate, and was therefore powerless to do harm.
Clay's presence of mind quickly returned. He drew a match from his pocket and struck it on his shoe just as a feeble cry for help came apparently from the bowels of the earth.
As the blaze flared up Clay saw the partially covered mouth of a well just in front of him. The gap between the planking showed where Ned had fallen through.
Clay was terribly alarmed, but he had sufficient presence of mind to kneel beside the orifice and hold the match down.
"Are you hurt, Ned?" he cried huskily. "Can you hold out for a moment or two?"
"I'm all right so far," came the reply in a feeble, chattering voice. "I can't stand it long, though. The water is over my head, and I'm holding on to the cracks in the wall. Waken the family, quick!"