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Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island

<h2 id="id01165" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> <h5 id="id01166">LOYAL SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE</h5> This assertion on the part of their leader was so tremendous that for almost a dozen seconds the boys could not utter a single word; but just stood there, and gazed at Thad, speechless. But it is a very difficult thing to muzzle some lads for any length of time; and Giraffe presently burst out with: "Jumped on poor Bumpus right here, did they, Thad? And p'raps pounded him into a condition where he just couldn't give the alarm, no matter how hard he tried? Oh! mebbe I don't wish I could have been there to touch up the scoundrels with this fine hatchet? What I'd a done to 'em would have been a caution, let me warn you! But how do you tell all this from the signs, Thad? We're only a bunch of next door to tenderfeet scouts when it comes to reading trail talk; but we know enough to understand when she's explained to us. Please open up, and tell us now." "And then we must decide what we'll do, so as to rescue our chum," said Step Hen angrily; "because scouts always stand by each other, you know, through thick and thin; and Bumpus is the best fellow agoing, you bear me saying that?" "Well, it's this way," said the scout-master, always ready to oblige his mates whenever he could do so; "you can see that some sort of a scuffle has taken place where we're standing right now. Other feet than those of Bumpus are marked; and then they all start away from here, heading in that direction. But although Bumpus walked to this spot there's never a sign of his footprints, which I know so well leading off from here." "What's the answer to that?" asked Davy. "Why," broke in Giraffe, quickly, "that's as plain as the nose on your face, Davy. Our chum was carried away! Either he couldn't walk because he'd been tapped on the head, and was senseless; or else they had got him tied up that quick." "Is that so, Thad?" demanded Step Hem "Giraffe has got the answer all right," came the reply. "I can see where these fellows must have been hiding, and let Bumpus pass them by. Then one dropped down on top of him, so that he couldn't so much as draw in his breath before they had him. This is what I was thinking about when I said we shouldn't be caught off our guard; and that we'd be foolish if we separated at all, for they could pick us off one by one, where they'd be afraid to tackle the whole bunch. It came quicker than I thought it would, though." "Well, we ain't going to stand for this, I hope?" remarked Giraffe. "We'd be a fine lot of scouts, wouldn't we," broke in Davy, indignantly, "if we were ready to desert our chum when he was in hard luck? Anybody that knows what the boys of the Silver Fox Patrol of Cranford Troop are would make certain that could never go down with them. Sure we ain't ameaning to keep on hiding our light under a bushel, and sneaking off, while Bumpus, good old Bumpus, is in the hands of the enemy, and p'raps with a splitting headache in the bargain." "Headache!" echoed Step Hen; "just wait till we get our chance, and if they ain't the fashion among these here poachers, then I don't know beans, and I think I do. Wow! you hear me talking, fellows!" and he caused his club to fairly whistle through the air, as though getting into the swing, so that he would know just how to go about laying out one of the law-breakers when they finally rounded them up. "Hope we ain't meaning to waste any more time around here than's necessary, Mr. Scout-master?" Giraffe observed, grimly, running his finger suggestively along the edge of the camp hatchet, which they kept in pretty good condition, so that it would really cut quite well. "We're off right away," said the other. "And Thad," observed Allan, speaking for the first time, because he was usually a boy of few words, and one who left it to some of the others to do pretty much all the talking, "the new trail, where we fail to find any mark of Bumpus' shoes leads this way, which I take it is toward that shack you said you'd seen last night when you took that little scout on the sly?" "It sure does, Allan," came the reply. "Well, then, we must expect that was where they carried our chum; and so we'll make for the cabin now," Allan continued. "We'll see it soon enough," Thad told them, "because it's only a little ways from where they have their powerboat hidden. Move along as still as you can, boys; and no more talking now—except in whispers." Every scout must have felt his heart beating like a trip-hammer as the forward progress was continued. The very atmosphere around them seemed to be charged with electricity; at least one would imagine so to see the way they looked suddenly from right to left with quick movements, as they went stooping along. It was only a space of sixty seconds or so when Thad came to a stop. They knew from this that the cabin spoken of must already have been sighted; and this proved to be the case, as was made apparent when they came to examine the territory just ahead. Among the rocks and undergrowth it could hardly be seen; indeed, if they had not known of its presence there, possibly none of them would have thought a cabin was so near by. They stared hard at it, but failed to see the first sign of any living being in the neighborhood. "Any signs of 'em, Thad?" whispered Giraffe, who was close at the heels of the scout-master; so close indeed, that Thad had more than once wondered whether the tall and nervous scout were still waving that up-to-date tomahawk, and if he the leader, might be so unlucky as to get in the way of the dangerous weapon. "Nothing that I can see," Thad answered, softly. "But you think they're in that place, don't you?" Giraffe continued to ask. "Like as not they are," the scout-master replied. All of them were staring hard at what they now saw. Having continued to advance a little farther they made out what seemed to be a lot of barrels; and some of them must have contained ice, to judge from the straw scattered about. Well, ice was needed in order to properly pack fish for the market; and if the poachers had ever had a supply on the island, secured during the winter time, it must have been exhausted before now, because the season was late. Yes, and what was more to the point, as the breeze happened to waft an odor to their noses all of the scouts detected the strong and unmistakable smell of fish, which must always be associated with every fishing camp. "Are we agoing to walk straight up to that door, and knock it in?" asked Giraffe, after they had stood there for a couple of anxious minutes, staring hard at the lone shack, as though trying to peer through the log walls, and see what lay within. "That might be hardly the thing for scouts to do," Thad told him. "They are taught to be cautious as well as brave. If those men happen to be hiding inside there, wouldn't they have a fine chance to riddle us if we walked right up as big, as camels? No, we've got to show a little strategy in this thing, eh, Allan?" "Just what we have, Mr. Scout-master." "So let's begin by circling around, and coming up on the shack from the other side," Thad said this he started off, with the others skulking along behind, about like a comet is followed by its tail. They kept a bright lookout all the while, not meaning to let the poachers get the better of them by creeping away from the shack while the boys in khaki were carrying out this evolution. Nothing however was seen. If the men were still in there they kept very quiet, everybody thought; and somehow this worried more than one of the scouts. Giraffe could not see what all this creeping around was intended for, anyhow; he would have been in favor of separating, and rushing toward the cabin from as many points of the compass as there were scouts. That sort of plan at least had the benefit of speed; for they would either be at the door inside of ten seconds, or have been staggered with a volley from within. But it would not be for much longer, because even now they had made such good progress that a few minutes more must put them through. It seemed an age to Giraffe since they had started to creep to the other side of the shack; when he saw by the actions of their leader that Thad was now ready to order the real advance. There did not appear to be any sign of a window on this side of the rude building, so that the chances were no one inside could watch their coming; which Giraffe well knew had been the principal reason why Thad had chosen to make this rear approach. "Now listen, all of you," whispered the leader, in thrilling tones; "I'm going to call out to Bumpus, and perhaps we'll get a clue regarding what's happened to him." Raising his voice, he called out the name of the fat scout twice in succession, being very particular to speak it distinctly, so that any one within would have to be absolutely deaf not to hear it. There was no reply, that is, nothing in the way of an answering voice; but all of them caught a peculiar sound that kept up intermittently for almost a full minute. "Now, what sort of a queer rumpus would you call that?" asked Step Hen. "Made me think of somebody kicking his heels into the floor, or some such stunt as that," Giraffe declared; while Davy nodded his head, as though there was no need for him to say anything when another voiced his sentiments so exactly. "Thad, are we going to stand this any longer?" Allan demanded, "No, we must see what's inside that place; so come along, boys, and we'll break in the door!" with which words the scout-master ran quickly forward, the others almost outstripping him, so great was their eagerness to be "in the swim," no matter what happened. The door seemed to be fastened in some way; though there was nothing in the way of a pistol shot or even a gruff voice warning them off. Thad tried in vain to find the fastening. "Pick up that log, and use it as a battering ram!" he ordered; and the other four scouts hastened to do so, while the patrol leader stood ready with his gun, not knowing how soon he might have need of it for defense. As the log came crashing against the door it flew wide open, proving that it had never been really intended as a means for keeping enemies out. Dropping the log, and at once snatching up their weapons, the scouts rushed to the open doorway, to stare into the cabin. What they saw amazed, and yet delighted them. There was not an enemy in sight; but some object moved upon the hard puncheon floor; and looking closer they discovered that it was no other than Bumpus, bound hand and foot, gagged, and with his face as red as a boiled lobster, redder by far than his fiery hair. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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