"Gee! she's mounting like fun!" he exclaimed. "Water must be pouring into the old lake from every side, and little gettin' out. Say, if this keeps on, the whole island, except that hill up yonder, will be under water before night. It sets rather low, you understand, Paul."
The scout master was naturally thrilled by these words. He knew that the leader of the Gray Fox Patrol was no alarmist, and that he seldom lost his head in times of excitement.
And so it was with considerable apprehension that Paul stooped down so he might see just how fast the lake was rising. And when he noticed that it actually crept up the stick before his very eyes, he knew that what Jud had said about the whole island being covered might not be such a silly assertion after all.
It began to look as though the adventures of the scouts had not yet reached an end, and that they were in for another thrilling experience.
"She's just walking up hand over fist; eh, Paul?" asked Jud.
"No question about it, Jud," came the reply as the scout master cast an apprehensive look across the half-mile of water that separated them from the outlet of the lake. "I'd give something to know what's happened down there, to dam this water up, and just how far it's going to rise on us."
"Tell you what," said Bobolink, who had followed Paul when he left the tent, as had also the rest of the occupants, "I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that awful explosion shook the shoulder of earth and rock down, that we saw hanging above the mouth of the Radway River where she leaves the lake."
"You've hit it, I do believe!" cried Paul, exultantly; "and that's just what did happen, chances are, fellows."
"But if the outlet is filled up," said Jud, "and this water keeps pouring in on four sides, it's dead sure the blooming lake will fill up in short order. What had we better do, Paul?"
"That's just what I'm trying to figure on, Jud," answered the other; "it's one of two things—either hike out for the hill, where we'll be safe until the water goes down; or else get our things aboard the boats, and stay here."
"That last strikes me as the best of all!" declared Jack.
"Besides," broke in Nuthin, "we don't want to lose those boats, you know. They were loaned to us and if we let 'em go to smash, wouldn't it take us a long time to pay the bill, though? Besides, we'll need 'em to get away from here."
"That isn't the worst of it," remarked Paul, who was very serious.
"Why, what is there besides?" demanded Bobolink.
"Suppose the water does get up so as to cover the island, all but the hill," the scout master went on deliberately, as though making sure of his ground as he talked; "and then, all of a sudden the weight of it broke through the dam; don't you see the suction, as the water rushed out, would be somethingterrific. No rope ever made, I reckon, could hold these boats back. They'd sure be drawn through the gap, and carried on the flood, any old way, even upside-down, maybe."
"Whew!" whistled Bobolink; and as for some of the other fellows, they began to lose their usual color as they realized what Paul was saying.
"Now, that's just an idea that came into my mind," Paul went on, seeing that he had alarmed some of the scouts. "It may never happen, you understand. But you know the motto we believe in is 'be prepared!' That means never to take things for granted. Keep your eyes and ears always on guard, and see lots of things, even before they swoop down on you. So, it's up to us, fellows, to get our tents and other fixings loaded up as soon as we can. After that we'll go aboard ourselves, and try to prepare against a sudden break in the dam."
"And lookin' at that water creeping up," remarked Jud, "the sooner we get busy, the better."
Accordingly, they all hastened back to the camp. It was found that already the water seemed to be creeping into the sink. Those in the other two tents were talking it over, and wondering what was about to happen.
When they heard the latest news, their faces indicated both astonishment and not a little alarm. But under the direction of the scout master, they started to convey all their belongings to the boats.
First the blankets and clothes bags were taken over; then the food and cooking utensils; and finally the tents came down in a hurry, for the boys were working in water almost up to their knees when this last part of the job was concluded.
Once out of the sink, they found plenty of high ground to walk on, while carrying the wet tents to the landing where the boats were lying.
After they were all aboard, the scouts packed the stuff as best they could, so that it would take up as little space as possible. Meanwhile Paul and Jack, with both the other patrol leaders, were trying to figure out just what would be the best course for them to pursue.
"Makes me think of old Noah, when he went aboard the ark, and the animals they followed two by two," said Bobolink, with a chuckle.
"Huh, call yourself a kangaroo, or a monkey, if you like," spoke up Old Dan Tucker, "but as for me I'd rather play the part of Ham, or one of the other sons."
"Sure thing!" assented Bobolink, cheerfully; "never saw the time yet when you raised any kick about takin' the part of Ham. Sounds good, don't it, Dan?"
It was pretty hard to keep the spirits of Bobolink from sizzling and gushing forth like a fountain when the water is turned on. He could joke, even while the several leaders of the expedition were consulting gravely about their chances of holding the boats against the frightful suction of the current, when the obstructions in the outlet of the lake gave way, which they hoped would not be suddenly, but by degrees.
It was certainly a condition that confronted them, and not a theory. Paul was really more worried than he showed; for he kept his feelings under control, knowing that if some of the others realized how much he was concerned, the fact might create a panic.
"If I really thought the worst would come," Paul said, in a low tone, to Jack, after it had been concluded that they would stay by the boats, and do the best they could, "why I'd be tempted to give the order to just cut for the hill, and leave everything but some food behind. Once up there, we would be safe, and that's what we can't say is the case now."
"But even if the water goes out with a rush, it can't tear a tree like this one up by the roots; can it?" asked Jack, pointing to where the cables of the boats had been secured as strongly as possible.
"That's so," replied the scout master; "but then, think of the ropes, and what a terrible strain would come on them. I'm afraid both would snap like pipe-stems. To hold tight, we'd need a big chain; or a hawser like that one the switching engine on the railroad uses to drag cars on a parallel track. But then, the water may be nearly as high, right now, as it will get We'll hope so, anyhow."
That was Paul's way of trying to look on the bright side, although he never failed to prepare for the worst, even while expecting the best.
"If we could only think up some way to help ease the strain, it would be a good thing," observed Jack, thoughtfully.
"I wish you could. It would ease my mind more than I care to tell you," was Paul's answer.
"One thing, the storm is over," called out Jud, just then; "see, there's a break in the clouds, and I reckon the sun will be peepin' out soon."
"But the water will keep on rushing down the sides of the hills away off yonder," Paul remarked, "and filling up this cup until it runs over. They say that the Radway River drains three times the amount of country that our own Bushkill does. And by the way the water comes in here, I believe it. Look out there on the lake, will you; it shows that it's getting wider right now."
"Why, in another half hour, if it keeps on the same way, it's going to lap over pretty much all the lower part of the island," Jack declared.
Everything else was neglected now, and the scouts gathered along the side of each boat, watching the lake. It was as if they half expected to see the water suddenly take to rushing toward the spot where they knew the peculiar outlet lay, not more than twenty feet across, and with abrupt sides, one of which had been partly overhanging the water at the time they entered.
It was, of course, this section which must have been dislodged by the blast which shook the surrounding territory, filling the bed of the stream, and causing the rapidly accumulating waters of the lake to back up, since they could find no place to discharge, as usual.
It was while they were moodily watching the waste of waters that one of the scouts, who had wandered across to the other side of theComforttsuddenly sounded a fresh alarm, that sent another thrill to the hearts of the already excited boys.
"Hey! here's a lot of men comin' down on us, fellows I They're meanin' to capture our boats, just like pirates. Boarders ahoy! Get busy everybody. Clubs are trumps!"
As they rushed to the other side, some having to clamber over the heaps of duffle that took up so much room aboard, the scouts saw that it was no false alarm. A number of men were hurrying toward them, splashing through water that was in places almost knee deep, even when they took the upper levels. Should they make a blunder, and stray off the ridges, it was likely they would speedily have to swim for it.
Paul was considerably aroused at first. They did not know very much about these mysterious people of the island; and after their recent rough experience, most of the boys were decidedly averse to knowing anything more of them. And yet, here they were hurrying toward the two motor-boats, as though they might indeed have some desperate idea in view.
Perhaps they meant to capture the boats, so as to insure their escape from the rising waters. And then again, it seemed at least possible that they might want to keep the scouts from telling what strange things they had seen.
So the first thing Paul did when he had that glimpse of the oncoming men, was to hasten to possess himself of his double-barreled shotgun. Not that he expected that there would be any necessity for firing it, but it was apt to inspire a certain amount of respect.
And the balance of the scouts had made haste to arm themselves with whatever they could find that would help hold the enemy at bay. Some had brought their clubs aboard, others seized upon the push poles, while one grabbed up the camp axe, and another seized upon the hatchet.
When eighteen husky and determined lads line the sides of two boats, prepared to give a good account of themselves, it must needs be brave men who would dare try to clamber aboard.
And it was about this time, when things were looking rather squally around the floating homes of the scouts, that Paul noticed something singular.
Three men could be seen splashing desperately through the water; and they seemed to be carrying a fourth, who was lying on a rude sort of litter, as though he might either be sick, or badly hurt.
And so it flashed through Paul's mind that perhaps after all their mission was not one of conquest, or even hostility, but that they were seeking help.
"Hold up, fellows," he hastened to say; "we'll have to let them come aboard now, because they never could get back to the hill again, with the water rising so fast. Besides, I think they've got a wounded man along, and need help. Don't forget we're scouts, and always ready to hold out a helping hand."
"That's the ticket!" declared the impulsive Bobolink, forgetting his warlike disposition when he saw the man on the litter.
So Paul beckoned to the men to approach. He had already made the discovery that one of those who bore the litter was the big man who had waved them away with such violent gestures, just before the terrible explosion, when they happened to get too near the mine that was being fired for some strange purpose.
Two minutes later, and still splashing through water that came almost up to their hips, those who bore the injured man arrived close to the boats.
"Why, it's Professor Hackett who's being carried!" exclaimed Jack.
The small man on the litter, who looked very white, lifted his head with an effort, and tried to wave his hand.
"Yes, that's who it is; and you're Jack Stormways; aren't you? Oh! I hope that chum of yours can do something to stop this bleeding; I made them carry me down here as a last chance. My man who was sent for a doctor in our aeroplane, has not come back, and we're afraid he had an accident. Can some of you boys help lift me aboard? I'm very weak from loss of blood, and nearly gone."
His voice was as faint as a whisper; and indeed, it was a wonder that he managed to speak at all.
The scouts had quite forgotten everything but that there was some one in trouble. Tender hands immediately were forthcoming to assist in raising litter and man over the side of the boat. Then the three attendants climbed aboard, and strange to say the scouts seemed to have forgotten all their fear of the men they had believed to be lawbreakers. For now they saw that they were an intelligent lot of men, who bore little resemblance to such criminals as they had seemed to be.
Paul had long been interested in surgery. His father was the leading doctor of Stanhope, and had always encouraged this fancy in the boy. It seemed that the professor chanced to remember that he had been told about the ability of Jack Stormways' chum; and when matters began to look desperate, since none of his assistants could seem to stop the flow of blood that followed his accident, as a last resort he had forced them to put him on a litter, and make for the spot where they knew the scouts had their camp, the man in the aeroplane having signaled the fact back to them, just as Paul suspected.
Of course they had not dreamed of such a thing as the lake rising, until they had gone too far to retreat; and then they took desperate chances of finding the boys still there, where they had boats with which they could go to the mainland.
Paul busied himself immediately. It was a pretty bad wound that the little man had received, and his left arm would be practically useless the balance of time; but he cared not for this, if only his life might be spared.
Jack and Jud assisted whenever their services were needed and in the end Paul had not only stopped the flow of blood, but had the injured arm neatly bandaged—as well, the professor weakly declared, as any surgeon could have done.
"And now," said Paul, turning on the big man, who had hovered around anxiously, watching what was being done, as though he thought a great deal of the professor; "in return for what we've done, won't you please tell us who and what you are, and why you're doing all these queer stunts away up here on this lonely island, where nobody can see you? We're all mixed up, and don't know what to think. At first we believed you must be a lot of counterfeiters hiding from the Government agents; but what with these explosions, and such things as aeroplanes, I'm getting it in my head that it means you're trying out some big sensations that are going to be sprung on the Coney Island public next season."
"And that's where you made a pretty clever guess, my boy," said the big man, as he settled down to take it a bit more easily after his recent hard work; "Professor Hackett has invented most of the biggest sensations seen at seaside resorts these last ten years. He expects to excel his record next season, and then retire; and I tell you, now, I began to think he'd retire another way, if he lost much more blood from that wound, which he got by accident this morning."
The scouts looked at each other, and a broad smile appeared on many a face that only a short time before had been pale with apprehension.
When a thing that has seemed a dark mystery is finally explained, it often looks so easy and simple that all of us wonder how we ever could have bothered our heads over such a puzzle. And so it was in this case. Why did it come that no one had guessed the true explanation before, when it was so easy?
They began to tell the big man all about their experiences, and how so many things seemed to make it appear that the strangers were hiding from officers.
"How about that fellow who was hanging around my father's mill that night you had your two big boxes stored there?" Jack asked.
"He represented a rival inventor, who has always been jealous of Professor Hackett, and is forever trying to find out what he has on the stocks," replied the big man, whose name they learned was Mr. Jameson, an able assistant to the inventor of aerial bombs, brilliant exploding mines, and a dozen other wonders that thrill audiences at the seashore each season.
"But wouldn't he be likely to follow the wagon when it took the boxes away in the morning?" the boy continued to ask.
"Oh! we put him on a false scent, by shipping two other boxes away on a train," was the reply. "He must have gone two hundred miles before he discovered his mistake; and I doubt very much if he knows yet, but is watching those cases to see what we do with them, away out in western New York State."
"Er, how about these?" asked Bobolink, jingling the two shining quarters in his hand. "I picked 'em up close to that field smithy you have on the island. We thought they were the best counterfeits we ever saw. I guess they are."
"I lost a bunch of small change through a hole in my pocket," laughed the man, "and so I judge those are a part of it. But keep them as souvenirs of your wonderful adventures on Cedar Island. Every time you look at them you'll remember that narrow escape you and your friends had when you came near stepping on a mine, the fuse of which had been lighted; for Professor Hackett, even while he was wounded, would not hear of us stopping our work."
"Thanks," replied the gratified Bobolink, again pocketing the quarters that had been the cause of so much speculation among the seven scouts; "I'll be glad to accept your kind offer. But there's another thing we'd like to know."
"Speak up, then, and I'll be pleased to accommodate you, if the knowledge is in my power to bestow. This flood bids fair to bring our experiments to an end for the time being, even if the professor's weakness hadn't made it necessary that we get to some place where he can receive the right kind of care, to build up his strength. What's bothering you now, my boy?"
"How about the wild man?" asked Bobolink.
"Oh! he was here when we came, and we made friends with him," the other replied, promptly. "You see, some of us have been up here for a month. We had some new stuff shipped in those big cases; but it'll all be rusted now by this water. The poor fellow is harmless, for all he looks so fierce. Why, at the smell of coffee the tears trickled down his dirty cheeks like rain; it seemed to be just one last link that bound his flitting memory to something in the far-away past. We gave him an old saucepan to cook it in, and showed him how. Ever since he's visited us often, and we supplied him with food, because it seemed as though he was the one who had first right to this island."
"I hope the poor old chap has the good sense to climb that hill, and get away from the rising water," remarked Jack, with some feeling. "Have you any idea who he can be, or where he came from?"
"We made up our minds that he had been out of his head a long time, and perhaps had escaped from some institution. He mentioned the name of John Pennington once, and we think it must have been his. The professor intended to make inquiries, later on, and if possible have him returned to his home, wherever it might be."
"Did he have a big yellow dog tied up at his shack?" asked Nuthin, eagerly, as though he wished to settle that point, because the animal in question had once belonged to the Cypher family.
"Yes," answered Mr. Jameson, "but it got away from him one night, by breaking the rope, and he's been making a great fuss about it ever since. But from the ugly looks of the beast, I'd sooner put a bullet in him than try to make friends."
"Well, that about finishes the list of questions we've been nearly dying to ask somebody," remarked Bobolink, "and seems like everything's been explained. What we want to know now, and there isn't a livin' soul c'n tell the answer to that, I reckon, is, how high is this old lake goin' to get before she commences to fall again? And how in Sam Hill are we expectin' to ride those motor-boats over that pile of rocks and mud, that lies in the outlet? Anybody know the answer? I'd like to hear it."
But they shook their heads. Nobody could say, although all sorts of guesses ran the rounds, for the scouts were good hands at that sort of thing.
The water was still rising, and apparently just as fast as ever. Already it had encroached upon the main part of the island; and Mr. Jameson declared that he was sure it must be all around the shed where they kept their machinery, that had been brought secretly to this isolated spot, where they hoped to complete the greatest marvel in the way of sensations ever known to curious crowds at watering places.
"It'll be badly hurt, unless the water goes down soon," remarked the big man; "but that doesn't seem to be the worst thing that can happen, if what your Doctor Paul here, says, turns out to be true, and the water goes out of the lake in a raging torrent that may drag boats and all with it."
They passed a most anxious hour, after the coming of the professor and his assistants. The lake kept on rising until pretty much all of the island except the hill was under water. Of course the trees stood out, but most of their roots were under ten feet or more of water.
It would not last much longer, that they knew, for the supply must be falling short, and besides there was always a chance that the fearful force exerted by such a mass of pent-up water would break away the obstruction that clogged the outlet.
Paul had done everything he could think of to add to their security in case the worst came. Some of the scouts were even perched in the neighboring trees. These were the more timid, who Paul knew were shivering from anxiety, and watching the spot where the lake water ordinarily escaped, as though dreading lest at any second they should see a sudden heave that would mean the beginning of the end.
"Good news, Paul!" sang out Jud Elderkin, to whom had been delegated the duty of keeping watch on the rise of the flood. "She's stationary at last Never rose a bit the last ten minutes. And believe me, I honestly think she's begun to go down just a little."
The other boys let out a cheer at this news. That was what they were all hoping for—that the water would go down gradually, so as not to endanger the motorboats.
Just how the craft were to get out of the lake, if the exit remained closed, no one could say; but then they might look to Paul to open a way somehow. He could make use of some dynamite to blow up the obstructions, so Mr. Jameson had suggested, and it sounded all right.
Five minutes later Jud was quite positive that the tide was on the ebb.
"Two inches lower than she was at the highest point. Paul!" he called out, jubilantly.
"Hurrah! that sounds good to me!" exclaimed Bobolink, swinging his campaign hat vigorously about his head, as he sat in the bow of theComfort, it being a part of his task to watch the cable, and if the worst came to ease up on it so that there would be less likelihood of a sudden snap.
"But we're not out of danger yet, remember," cautioned the scout master.
Presently the water was lowering at a still faster rate.
"Looks like the opening might be getting larger," said Jack, when this fact was made clear beyond any doubt.
"Watch over there," said Paul, "and see if there's any sudden rush, though already the water is escaping so fast that I begin to believe we might hold on here, even if the whole pile of earth and rocks were washed away, leaving the channel clear."
Five, ten, fifteen minutes crept along, and all the while the water kept going steadily down until much of the island could be seen again under the trees.
"Oh! look, there she goes!" cried Bobolink, without warning, and thereby causing some of the fellows who had descended from the trees to wish they were aloft again.
Over in the vicinity of the outlet they could see something of a commotion. The water seemed to be running down hill, as it struggled to pour out through the now cleared passage.
Immediately the boats felt the suction, which must have been very strong indeed. They strained at their ropes, and those who had the cables in charge obeyed the instructions given to them, allowing a certain length of line to slip, thus easing the fearful drag.
"Whoop! they're going to hold!" exclaimed Bobolink, in great glee.
Paul believed so himself, and a smile came to his face that up to now had looked careworn and anxious; for a dreadful catastrophe had been hovering over them, he felt certain.
And the ropes did make good, holding in spite of that fierce drag. The water soon got down to about its normal level, when the pull upon the hawsers ceased, and everything seemed to settle back into the old rut.
But the boys had had quite enough of Cedar Island. It was water-soaked now, and offered little attraction to them for camping. Paul suggested that they leave the cove and head for a certain section of the main shore which, on account of being much higher than the island, had not been overflowed.
There was not a single voice raised in opposition, and so they started the motors and with a series of derisive sounds that seemed almost like chuckles the boats said goodbye to Cedar Island. Landing they found a splendid spot for the erection of the tents, and before the coming of night the scouts were as snugly fixed as though nothing had happened to disturb them.
The injured professor declared that he meant to stick by Paul until his messenger arrived with a carriage and a doctor by way of the road, which ran only a half mile away from the lake.
He expressed himself satisfied with the work Paul had done on his arm, and believed it to be the right thing.
They hoped to spend a quiet night. There would be no bomb explosions in the heavens to disturb them, at least. Mr. Jameson had already explained to the boys that, if they had happened to be awake at the time of that first tremendous shock, they must have seen by the glare in the heavens that it was a new kind of aerial bomb that had been fired; and possibly under such conditions some one of the scouts would have guessed the truth. But when they crept out of the tents there was nothing to be seen aloft.
Luckily, these wide-awake boys could accommodate themselves to their surroundings. Their former experiences had made most of them quickwitted, resolute and cheerful under difficulties that might have daunted most lads.
Although they had received a tremendous shock because of the numerous remarkable occurrences that had taken place since their landing on Cedar Island, now that their troubles seemed to have departed, most of the scouts were just as full of life and good-natured "chaff" as ever.
Bluff seemed to never tire of entertaining those who had not been fortunate enough to be among the valiant band of explorers with wonderful accounts of all they had seen. He had them holding their very breath with awe, as he described, in his own way, how they first of all crept up to the shack in the thicket and looked in upon the wild man asleep.
But when Bluff told of how he and his comrades had been warned off in such a dramatic manner by the unknown man, and immediately afterwards found themselves knocked down by that tremendous concussion, as the explosion took place, he had them hanging on his every sentence.
But words failed Bluff when he tried to picture the wild scene that had followed. That furious scamper through the wooded part of the island must remain pretty much in the nature of a nightmare with the boys.
Phil and Bobolink and Andy all eagerly chimed in, trying to do the subject justice, but after all it seemed beyond their powers. They could only end by holding up both hands, rolling their eyes, shrugging their shoulders, and then mutely pointing to the various cuts, scratches and contusions that decorated their faces. The rest had to be left to the imagination.
Fortunately there was an abundance of witch hazel ointment along, so that every sufferer was able to anoint his hurts. The whole bunch seemed to fairlyglistenfrom the time of their arrival at the boats. Indeed, there never had been such a wholesale raid made upon the medical department since the Stanhope Troup of Banner Boy Scouts was organized.
But after all was said and done they had come out of the whole affair at least with honor. And now that the peril was a thing of the past they could well afford to laugh at their adventures on Cedar Island.
"Seems like a dream; don't it, Paul?"
Jack dropped down beside the acting scout master as he made this remark. He had just stepped out from the new camp on the mainland, and found Paul sitting upon a log, looking across the water in the direction they had come.
The sun was just setting, and a rosy flush filled the western heavens. It seemed to fall softly upon mysterious Cedar Island, nestling there in the midst of the now tranquil waters.
Paul looked up with a smile, as he made room on the log for his chum, who had always been so willing to stand by him through thick and thin.
"Well, do you know, Jack," he spoke, "that was just exactly what seemed to strike me. I was staring hard at the island, and wondering if I had been asleep and dreamed all those queer happenings. Fact is, just before you spoke I even pinched my leg to see if I was really wide awake."
The other laughed at this.
"Oh! you're awake, all right, Paul," he remarked. "You seemed to get off without any show of damage to your good-looking face. As for the rest of us, if ever we begin to think we've been and dreamed it, we've got a remedy better than pinching. All we have to do is to bend down over a still pool of water and take a look at our faces. That'll convince us in a hurry wedidhave a lively time of it."
Paul pointed across the lake to where the island lay bathed in that wonderful afterglow that shone from the painted heavens.
"Did you ever see a prettier sight?" he asked. "It looks as peaceful as any picture could be. You wouldn't think a bunch of fellows could run up against such a lot of trouble over on such a fine little place as Cedar Island; would you, now?"
"I feel the same way you do, Paul; and I'd say we never ought to have left it, only after the flood it'd be a muddy place, and we wouldn't take any pleasure getting around."
"Oh! well," Paul rejoined cheerfully, "after all, perhaps it isn't our last visit up this way. Who knows but what we may have another chance to come over here and look around. It was a good scheme, I'm thinking, Jack, and we'll never be sorry we came."
"I should say not," remarked the other, quickly; "just turn around and take a look back into our camp. See where Professor Hackett is lying propped up with pillows from the boats. Well, suppose we'd never come over this way, what d'ye think would have happened to him? He says he owes his life to your skill, Paul, and that, try as they would, Mr. Jameson and the other assistants couldn't seem to stop the bleeding. That alone pays us for all we've gone through, Paul."
"I guess it does," Paul admitted, readily, "because he's a smart man, and has done a lot to entertain the crowds that go to the seashore to rest and forget their troubles. But I'm glad none of the boys seem to have suffered any serious damage from the effect of the explosion or that mad chase afterwards."
"Yes, we ought to call ourselves lucky, and let it go at that,"Jack remarked.
"When you think about all that might have happened, I tell you we've got lots of reason to be thankful," Paul went on, with considerable feeling.
"Sure we have," added Jack. "Instead of that stick taking me in the cheek, it might have struck my eye and injured my sight for life."
"And where I got only a wrench that may make me limp a little for a few days, I could have broken a leg," said Paul.
"That's one of the rules scouts have to keep in mind, you know," Jack continued; "always be cheerful and look on the bright side of things. I reckon there never comes a time when you can't find a rainbow of promise if you look far enough. Things are never as bad as they might be."
"The boys seem to have settled down here just as if they meant to enjoy the rest of the stay," Paul observed, as he turned his head again, so as to look at the bustling camp close by.
"Yes, and even the very air seems to tell of peace and plenty," said Jack, with a little laugh, as he sniffed the appetizing odors that were beginning to announce that preparations for the evening meal had started.
"You're right," agreed Paul, "I guess there's nothing more 'homey' than the smell of onions frying. I never get a whiff of it on the street of a winter evening but what I seem to see some of the camps I've been in. And then, just think how it gets your appetite on edge, till you can hardly wait for the cook to call out that supper's ready. But I was thinking of some other things when you came up."
"I reckon I could mention one of them," said Jack.
"Let's hear, then," the other demanded.
Jack swept his hand down the lake in the direction of the outlet.
"You're worrying about that," he said.
"Well, that's just about the size of it, Jack. We know the lake's gone down to about what it was before the storm hit us; but what if a great big rock blocks the passage?"
"You know what Mr. Jameson said you could do?" Jack remarked.
"About the dynamite, to blast an opening big enough for our boats to get through? Yes, Jack, I suppose that could be done."
"And he says he'll stand by to see that itisdone," the other continued. "As Mr. Jameson is an expert at all sorts of explosives, you can just make up your mind we'll have no trouble getting away. Besides, Paul, I've got a feeling that when we go down in the morning to take a survey, we'll be more than pleased with the way things look."
"Which all sounds good to me," Paul hastened to declare. "Anyhow, I'm going to believe it's bound to turn out as you say. In spite of our troubles we've been a pretty lucky lot."
"But you talked as though the getting away part of the business was only a part of what you had on your mind," Jack went on.
"There was something else," the other scout admitted.
"Suppose you open up and tell me, Paul; because somehow I don't seem to be able to get what you mean."
"It seems to me," the patrol leader remarked, seriously, "that while all of us scouts, and the professor's party in the bargain, have been shaking hands with each other over the lucky escape we had, we've pretty near forgotten one poor chap."
Jack gave a start, and then whistled softly.
"That's right, Paul," he said, "for I take it you mean the crazy islander."
"How do we know what happened to him?" Paul continued.
"But Mr. Jameson seemed to feel sure he would take to the hill when the flood came," Jack replied. "And he also told us, you remember, that some of their food was at a higher point than the water could have reached. So, if the crazy man wanders about that camp, there's no need of his going hungry long."
"I guess that's about so," Paul agreed, as though these words from his chum took away some of his anxiety. "From what they say, it seems as if he has come to look on them as friends. So, chances are ten to one he'd go to their different camps after the flood went down."
"Queer how he came to be here," Jack remarked.
"Oh, I don't know," the other observed; "there's no telling what a crazy person will do. His coming to this island must have been with the hazy notion that any one searching for him couldn't find him here."
"Searching for him, Paul?"
"Well, you remember Mr. Jameson said he had an idea the poor fellow must have escaped from some institution," Jack continued.
"Yes, he did say that; and for all he looks so big and fierce, with his long hair and beard, he's harmless. But, Jack, between us now, do you think we could go back home when our little vacation trip is over and feel that we'd doneallour duty as true scouts, when that poor chap had been left up here—perhaps to starve on Cedar Island?"
"Whew! You're the greatest boy I ever saw, Paul, to get a grip on a situation and remember things."
"But—answer my question," persisted the other.
"Well, what you said must be so," Jack acknowledged; "and it makes me feel pretty small to remember that, while we've all been feeling so merry over our wonderful escape, I'd forgotten all abouthim."
"Jack, it's too late to do anything tonight, you know."
"I reckon it is, Paul," replied the other, looking a bit anxiously across the water to where the glow was commencing to give way to shadows along the wooded shore of Cedar Island; "but if you thought best, I'd be willing to take the lantern and cross over with you."
Paul thrust out his hand impulsively.
"Shake on that, old chum," he exclaimed. "Your heart's as big as a bushel basket, and in the right place every time. But on the whole, Jack, I don't believe it would be the wise thing for us to do."
"Just as you say, Paul; only I wanted you to know I was ready to back you up in anything."
"We're both tired, and sore in the bargain," continued the scout master, steadily.
"Yes," Jack admitted, unconsciously caressing his painful bruises.
"The island is in a bad state just now, after being flooded," Paul continued.
"That's right, I can jolly well believe it," his chum agreed.
"And if the wild man hasn't been drowned, he'll surely be able to look out for himself a while longer. Mr. Jameson felt sure he wouldn't starve, with all the food they left behind."
"Then it won't hurt to let it go till tomorrow, eh, Paul?"
"I had made up my mind that we'd organize another party, this time taking some of the fellows who have been kept in camp, and comb Cedar Island from end to end to find that man."
"A good plan, Paul," said the other scout; "but do you think he'll make friends with us, even when we find him?"
"Mr. Jameson says he understands the peace sign," the scout master continued, "and must really have had a bright mind at some time. He told me he had an idea the man may have met with some injury that had unsettled his reason. He seemed to be greatly interested in all they were doing, and several times even made suggestions that startled the professor."
"I remember that much, too," said Jack, "and Mr. Jameson also said he meant to try and learn if anybody knew about a John Pennington. That was the name the man spoke once in his rambling talk."
"Well, perhaps we may be able in some way to do the poor fellow a good turn, Jack. I hope so, anyhow. My! how those boys are trying to beat the record at getting up a grand supper. Seems to me my appetite is growing at the rate of a mile a minute."
"If it keeps on that way, good-bye to our stock of provisions," laughed Jack; "but, to tell the truth, I feel pretty much the same. The most welcome sound I could hear right now would be Bluff calling everybody to get a share of that fine mess."
"Then you won't have to wait long, I guess," his chum declared, "because from all the signs of dishing out I imagine they're about ready right now."
Paul proved a true prophet, for immediately Bluff began to ding-dong upon a sheet iron frying pan, using a big spoon to produce a discord that, in the ears of the hungry boys, was the sweetest music in the world.
Gathering around, the scouts made a merry group as they proceeded to demolish the stacks of savory food that had been heaped upon their tin plates; and drink to each other's health in the fragrant coffee that steamed in the generous cups, also of tin, belonging to their mess chest.
After supper the scouts sat around, and while some of them worked at various things in which they were particularly interested, such as developing the films that would give a dozen views of the great flood, others sang songs or listened to Mr. Jameson tell strange stories.
The man had been to the corners of the world during a busy lifetime, often with scientific parties sent out by societies interested in geography, natural history or astronomy. And hence it had fallen to the lot of Mr. Jameson to experience some remarkable adventures. The boys felt that he was the most interesting talker they had ever met.
After several hours had slipped by, some of the scouts, notably those who had been among the bold explorers band, were discovered to be nodding drowsily. Indeed, Andy and Tom Betts had gone sound asleep, just as they lay curled up before the fire. The warmth of the blaze, together with the unusual exertions of the day, had been too much for the boys.
And so the bugler was told to sound "taps" to signify that it was time they crawled under their blankets.
A few chose to sleep aboard the motor boats, which, of course, relieved the tents from overcrowding. Professor Hackett and his assistants had been lodged in one of the tents, which fact had something to do with the lack of room.
But presently all these things had been arranged. Paul himself intended to pass the night in the open. He declared he would really enjoy the experience; and two others insisted on keeping him company—little Nuthin and Bobolink.
So Paul, who knew a lot about these things, showed them just how to wrap themselves up like mummies in their blankets, and then lie with their feet to the fire. He said old hunters and cowboys always slept that way when camping in the open.
Paul was awakened by feeling something nudging him in the ribs. It was Bobolink's elbow; and, thinking at first that it might be an accident, the scout master made no move.
But again he received a severe jolt. And at the same time came a whisper close in his ear:
"Paul! Are you awake?" Bobolink was saying, so low that any one six feet away could not have heard his voice.
"What ails you?" asked Paul.
He might have imagined that the other had been taken ill, from over feeding, perhaps, and wanted Paul, as the doctor of the troop, to give him some medicine. But on second thought Paul realized that there was too much mystery about the action of Bobolink to admit of such an explanation.
"Listen, Paul," the other went on, still whispering, "there's some sort of wild beast goin' to raid the camp!"
"What's that?" asked the scout master, a little sternly, for, knowing the weakness of Bobolink in the line of practical joking, he suspected that the other might be up to some of his old tricks.
And Bobolink must have detected an air of doubt in the manner in whichPaul spoke those two words, for he immediately resumed:
"Honest Injun, Paul, I ain't foolin'! Say, do they have panthers around here? Because that's what I think it must be."
"Where'd you see it?"
As Paul put this question he was working his arms free from the folds of his blanket. When he lay down, more through force of habit than because he thought there would be any need of such a thing, Paul had placed his shotgun on the ground beside him. And no sooner was his right hand at liberty than, groping around, he took possession of it.
"Up in that big oak tree," Bobolink went on. "You watch where that limb hangs out over the camp and you'll see somethin' move; or I've been dreamin', that's all."
Paul did not have to twist his head very far around in order to see the spot in question. He watched it as the seconds began to troop along, until almost a fell minute had gone.
And Paul was just about to believe Bobolink must have been dreaming, when he, too, saw the bunch of leaves violently agitated.
Undoubtedly some tree-climbing animal was up there. Paul felt a thrill pass through him. Unconsciously, perhaps, his fingers tightened their grip upon the shotgun, which was apt to prove a tower of strength in case the worst that could happen came to pass.
Straining his eyes, as he partly lifted his head, Paul believed he could just make out a shadowy form stretched upon the large oak limb.
He was more than puzzled.
Wild animals were not altogether unknown within the twenty-mile limit around Stanhope. A bear might be seen occasionally—or at least the tracks of one, for the timid beast knew enough to hide in the daytime in one of the numerous swamps.
But this did not seem large enough for a bear, which would have surely made a more bulky object clinging to the limb. Moreover, bears were not reckoned bold, and no hunter had ever known one to come spying around a camp. As soon as the trail of human beings is run across by a bear, the animal always takes the alarm and hastens to its den, to lie low until the danger has passed.
But Bobolink had mentioned the magic word "panther," and this caused the other aroused scout to look more closely at the dimly seen object Sure enough it did seem to be flattened out on the limb, much as Paul imagined a big cat might lie.
"What'd we better do about it, Paul—give a yell and jump up?" Bobolink asked, his voice quivering, perhaps with excitement, or it might be under stress of alarm; for it was not the nicest thing in the world to be lying there helpless with a hungry panther crouching above.
"Wait, and let's make sure," replied the careful Paul.
Some impetuous boys would have thought, the very first thing, of bringing that double-barrelled gun to bear on the dark, shadowy figure, and cutting loose, perhaps even firing both charges at once.
At such close range, less than thirty feet, a shell containing even bird shot is apt to be projected with all the destructive qualities of a large bullet. Paul knew all about this, and also had faith in the hard-hitting qualities of his long tested gun; but he was not the one to be tempted into any rash action.
"Be sure you're right; then go ahead," was a motto which Paul always tried to practice. He had certainly found it worth while on more than one occasion in the past, and it was likely to serve him well now.
And so he waited, ready for a sudden emergency, but not allowing himself to be hurried.
He soon had reason to feel very thankful that his good sense had prevailed, for presently the leaves were again set to shaking and, as they parted, Paul saw something that gave him a shock.
"Oh! what d'ye think of that, now? It's the wild man of Cedar Island!" gasped Bobolink, actually sitting up in his excitement.
And Paul had already made certain of this fact as soon as his eyes fell upon the hairy face seen among the branches. The shudder that passed through his frame had nothing to do with fear. Paul was only horrified to realize what might have happened had he taken Bobolink's suggestion for the truth, and fully believed the figure in the oak to be a savage panther.
"We'd better let Mr. Jameson know," Paul remarked, as he also sat up and cleared his legs of the blanket.
"Yes, he'll know how to get him down. I bet you, Paul, the feller went and swam across from the island. But how would he guess we were here?"
"Oh! he could see the boats in the day time; and don't forget we've had a fire burning all night, so far," said the scout master.
When Mr. Jameson came out of the tent, in answer to Paul's low summons, and learned what had happened, he readily agreed to influence the wild man to come down. The poor fellow had learned to look on Mr. Jameson as a friend, and, realizing that he had abandoned the island, doubtless it was his desire to see him again that had induced this visit.
He proved to be harmless, and upon being given food ate ravenously. Later on it was discovered that he had launched a log and made his way to the mainland by means of this crude craft, with a branch for a paddle.
Mr. Jameson declared that he would take the stranger to Stanhope when the vehicle came for the professor, and do all in his power to learn just who he was, as well as get him safely back among his friends.
To dispose of the wild man of Cedar Island once and for all, it might be said right here that Mr. Jameson kept his word. The name John Pennington served as a clue, and in the end he learned that was his name. He had lost his mind through an accident and, though his case was deemed hopeless, occasionally he was apt to have little flashes of his former cleverness. He was returned to the sanitarium from which he had escaped, and the boys never heard of him again. But the memory of the wild man would always be associated with Cedar Island.
On the following day Paul and Jack managed to get around to the outlet, for the scout master was anxious to learn what the chances of their leaving the lake, when they were ready, might be.
They found that, just as had been believed that shoulder of rock and earth had been shaken loose by the tremor of the earth at the time of the big shock, when the professor was experimenting with some new explosive.
In falling, it had indeed dammed the outlet, and the storm coming so soon after, of course the water in the lake had risen at a frightful rate. In the end the obstruction had commenced to disappear; but luckily for all concerned, it had held fairly well until much of the water had escaped, when finally it had given way.
The channel was as good as ever; indeed, Paul seemed to think that it offered fewer impediments to a passage now than before all this had happened.
That eased the minds of the scouts, and they could go back again to their camp with good news for the others.
A carriage came that day for the professor, and his assistants managed to carry him across country to the road; just as they had undoubtedly done the two big boxes of material that came from Mr. Stormways' mill that other day.
He shook hands with each and every scout before leaving, and promised to remember them always for what they had done. When he came to Paul, he clung to his hand, and there were tears in the eyes of the little professor as he, said:
"I honestly believe that you saved my life, my boy, and I trust that through your ability I may be spared a few more years. And depend on it, I'm never going to let you get out of touch with me, Paul Morrison. I hope to live to see you a great surgeon, some day."
The scouts filled out the balance of their vacation at the lake, and considered that they had had some of the strangest experiences that could happen to a group of boys; but although at the time they could not suspect it, there were still more interesting things in store for Paul and his comrades of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts. What these were, you will find related in the next volume of this series, to be called, "The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound; Or, A Tour on Skates and Iceboats."
When the time came for them to start back, it was with more or less anxiety that they came to the canal connecting the waters of the two rivers flowing parallel for a few miles, and only a short distance apart.
But they need not have borrowed trouble, for the Bushkill was still higher than usual at this season of the year and all through the disused canal they found plenty of water, so that neither of the boats stuck in the mud.
In good time, then, the Banner Boy Scouts arrived home, to thrill the lads who had not been fortunate enough to accompany them on their trip afloat, with wonderful accounts of all the remarkable things which had happened to them while in camp on Cedar Island.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat, by George A. Warren