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Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island

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<h2 id="id00799" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XVII</h2> <h5 id="id00800">ROBINSON CRUSOE, JR.</h5> "There you are," said Giraffe, presently. "Why, that shelf of rock looks just like it was meant to keep the rain off," declared Step Hen, delighted at the prospect. "Hold on," Bumpus advised. "What ails you now?" Giraffe wanted to know. "Why, you see," the stout boy went on to say, "she looks kinder dark and gloomy under that same rock." "But it won't after I get a fire started; you see the night's beginning to settle down already," Giraffe told him. "How d'ye know there ain't somethin' ahiding in there?" demanded Bumpus. At that the lengthy scout laughed scornfully. "Oh! that's the way the wind blows, does it? Well, you watch me eat your old wolf up. I'm hungry enough right now to eat anything, I reckon." Few of them could remember when Giraffe was anything but starving, for he always had that appetite of his along, and working overtime. He immediately crawled under the ledge, for the shelf of rock was not high enough to admit of his standing erect. "Seems to be all right," admitted Bumpus. "Of course it is, though I kind o' think a wolf, if he showed good taste, would let me alone, and wait for you, Bumpus," Giraffe called back. They hastened to deposit their burdens under the shelving rock. "Now, Thad, don't you think it'd be a good idea to have everybody hustle, and collect what fuel we could?" the fire-maker asked. "As it's apt to rain any, time now," answered the scout-master, "and we'll be glad to have a fire all night, it seems as though we'd show our good sense by gathering wood while we have the chance." "That's the ticket! You hear Thad speaking, fellows, so get busy." Giraffe showed them how by immediately starting in to collect such wood as lay conveniently at hand. "Pile it up here, where it'll keep dry, and we can get what we need from time to time," he told them. Many hands make light work, and as the entire half dozen boys busied themselves like a pack of beavers, before long they had accumulated such a pile of good dry fuel as pleased Giraffe exceedingly. "That's what I call a hunky-dory lot of wood," he finally declared, when Thad had announced the they must surely have enough to see them through the night, "but better bring in a little more, boys, because you don't know how fast the fire eats it up." As for himself, Giraffe was now ready to get his cheery blaze started. He actually wasted a match in doing this, muttering at the time that there was no use bothering with his fire-sticks, which would come in handy later, perhaps, when the stock of matches ran low. Well, every boy admitted that things certainly did take on a rosier hue, once that fire began to crackle and send up sparks. "That feels good, Giraffe," said Bumpus, holding his hands out toward the blaze. "Sure it does," the fire maker went on to say, "and we'll all feel better still after we get some grub inside. Thad, what are we going to have for supper?" Nobody started making fun of Giraffe now. They were all pretty sharp pushed, and could sympathize with the hungry one. "Oh! look over our stock, and see what we've got," replied the scout-master. "Only go slow, and don't cook too much, because nobody can tell how long we might have to stay here on this island, and we may have to come down to half rations yet." His words struck a chill to some of their hearts. Giraffe, however, refused to allow himself to be concerned. "Oh! don't worry, boys," he remarked, "we ain't going to starve, even if we have to be marooned here two weeks before a vessel can be signaled. Why, what use are the fishing lines to us if we can't take lots of finny prizes? Then, if there's ducks around, or anything else to shoot, ain't we got a gun? And last of all, I reckon we'd find lots of mussels or fresh water clams in the sand at the end of the island where we landed." Somehow, his hopeful spirit did a great deal to help buoy up the spirits of the other scouts. Even Bumpus volunteered to assist in getting supper ready; indeed, there was no lack of cooks on this occasion, for every one seemed willing to lend a hand. After all, youth is so hopeful, and filled with animal spirits, that it takes more than ordinary backsets to dishearten a parcel of healthy boys. By the time the supper was done they were talking like magpies, and it would be difficult to imagine that these six happy-go-lucky fellows were now actual Crusoes of the great lake, their boat a wreck, and deliverance a very uncertain prospect of the future. "That's the very last of the bacon, ain't it, Giraffe?" asked Step Hen, during the progress of the meal. "Sorry to say it is," came the reply. "And don't it taste finer than ever, though?" Bumpus wanted to know. "That's always the way," laughed Thad. "Yes," added Allan, "you never miss the water till the well runs dry. But how about our ham, is that gone, too!" "Well, I should say, yes," declared Giraffe, an injured look on his face, as if he felt accusing eyes fixed upon him, "s'pose you think one poor lone ham with six hungry fellows to chaw away at it, could last forever, but it won't. If you want to know what we've got left I'll tell you—two cans of Boston baked beans, one of tomatoes, some potatoes, a package of rice, plenty of tea, sugar and coffee, three tins of milk, some chocolate, and three packages of crackers." "Is that all?" gasped Bumpus. "So you see right away to-morrow we've got to get busy trying to lay in some sort of supplies," Giraffe went on to say. "How about that, Thad?" "You never said truer words," was the scoutmaster's comment. "Yum, yum, I don't know when I've enjoyed a supper like I have this one," Step Hen acknowledged. "I hope it ain't the last time I'll hear you say that," remarked Giraffe. "Hope so myself," returned the other, "because it'd be too bad if I had to quit eating at my tender age." "Thad, do you think this island could be inhabited?" It was Davy who asked this question, but Bumpus must have been thinking along the same lines, for he nodded his head violently and smiled, as though he awaited Thad's answer with interest. "Of course I couldn't say," the scout-master observed. "It's only a small rocky island, you know, and people wouldn't live here the year' through." "But they might come here, ain't that so?" Step Hen insisted. "Why, yes, to fish, or shoot wild fowl in the season," Thad went on to say. "Well, I sure do hope there may be some white fish netters here right now," Step Hen said. "Or if their ain't, let's wish they'll be comin' along soon," Bumpus added with a fervency that was certainly genuine. "I wonder," Davy broke in with, "what we could do if our boat was carried away, or we found we couldn't mend the same?" "Huh! What did old Robinson do but build him a boat? Here are six boys, wide-awake as they make 'em—and I'd like to know why we couldn't do as much as one man!" Bumpus said this rather boastfully, not that he had so much confidence in his own ability to do things as he felt satisfied that Thad and Allan would be equal to almost any emergency. "Well, we might, under the same conditions," the former told him. "Ain't the conditions the same," inquired Step Hen. "He was wrecked, and so are we, you might call it." "Yes, but there's no tree on this rocky island big enough to make into a boat," Thad informed him. "That's a fact, they do grow dwarf trees here," Step Hen admitted. "And suppose there was, how could we ever chop one down with one little camp hatchet, and hollow out the log?" Thad asked. "Might take a year," acknowledged the other. "We'd freeze to death here in the winter time, because it gets awful cold, they say," Step Hen continued. "Why, we could walk over the ice, and get ashore," Davy suggested. "Guess the old lake don't freeze over solid any time; it's too big, ain't it, Thad?" Giraffe went on to say. "That's something I don't know," came the scout master's answer; "and what's more to the point I don't care, because we'll never stay here that long." "Glad to know it," said Bumpus. "P'raps now our friends'll be looking us up, and come to the rescue." "You mean Smithy and Bob White, don't you?" asked Step Hen. "That's who." And so they continued to discuss matters from every view-point possible, as only wide-awake boys may. Meanwhile the scout-master, thinking that while the rain held off he might as well step out and take a little look around, proceeded to do so. Allan Hollister was sitting there, resting, and listening to the arguments of the other boys, when he saw the scout-master beckoning just outside the full glow of light cast by the fire. "What's up, Thad?" he asked, as he joined the other. "I think I've made the discovery that we're not alone on the island," came the answer. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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