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Boy Scouts First Camp Fire

<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> <h3>LOOKING TO BIG THINGS AHEAD.</h3> "Ain't this fine and dandy, though?" remarked Bumpus, as he stood on the shore, after a short session in the water, and rubbed his plump form with part of the fine sheet Smithy had fetched along, foolishly thinking he would need it for sleeping. They had splashed, and swam about to their hearts' content, until Thad timing the bathing period, ordered the last scout from the water. There was an absence of the frolicsome spirit so often seen among boys when in swimming. Discipline would not allow Step-hen, for instance, slapping a lump of mud upon Bumpus just after he had succeeded in drying himself; though possibly he might have enjoyed doing it first-rate; since he still felt that the fat boy was playing a joke on him by concealing his precious compass upon which he depended to show him the right road, should he ever get astray in the woods. Breakfast was an easy meal to get. They just had to boil the coffee, and fry several rashers of bacon for each mess; after which the appointed cooks, tried their hands at making flapjacks; which,[83] be it mentioned here, are about the same as the common pancake at home, though never called by that ordinary name in camp. These were fairly good, though a bit heavy, not quite enough "rising" having been put in the flour. The next time, Thad said, they would carry the self-raising kind of flour along, when they would be sure of having light bread. "If there are any left, boys," remarked Thad, "don't forget that we are honored by the presence of a guest in our camp. He came without invitation, and is kept here perhaps against his will; but all the same we owe him a heavy debt of gratitude." "Yes," spoke up Bumpus, who had not cared very much for the latter end of his breakfast, as he was a light eater, and rather particular, "fussy" Step-hen called it, "which we will proceed to cancel by a heavy dose of dough. Give him my share, boys, and welcome. I've got too much respect for my poor stomach to cram such prog down into it." "Hold on," remarked Giraffe, looking up, hungrily; "perhaps everybody ain't through yet; and Bob, I think those flapjacks you made are simply delicious." "Thanks, suh!" returned the cook of his mess, with a pretended bow; "but I beg to diffah with you; and by the orders of the scout-master I am handing the balance over to Smithy, from the other mess, who will proceed to feed it to the prisoner. Our scout-master is afraid that if you did get sick so early in the outing, he might have to exhaust the medicine chest befo' your appetite returned."[84] "Oh! all right, Bob, just as you say; and perhaps I have devoured as many as I had ought to; but they were good, I don't care what you say. Come again, Bob." "Hey! anybody seen my head—" began Step-hen; when Davy interrupted him to bawl: "Anybody seen Step's head; he's done gone and lost that, now. Always said he would have done it long ago, only Nature had it fastened on tight. But the catastrophe has arrived at last. Step's lost his head, fellows; not that it matters much. A liberal reward is hereby offered to the finder. Apply to Step-hen Bingham." "Think you're smart, don't you?" jeered the lean one, as he kept on overturning all manner of things. "I was only going to ask if any one had taken my head gear, otherwise known as my campaign hat? Of course I know what the answer'll be—nobody's seen a thing of it. It does beat the Dutch how my things are always going, the funniest way ever. Now I could declare I hung that hat up on the broken branch of this tree." "Well, you've been sitting on it all the time you were eating breakfast; and there it lies, as flat as any pancake that was ever cooked. Now perhaps you'll learn sometimes just to put things where you c'n find 'em," said Bumpus. Step-hen turned to shoot an accusing stare at the speaker that made the fat boy writhe, for he knew what was passing in the mind of the other. "Didn't, so there!" he snapped, as he turned[85] away; and Step-hen, looking after him, wagged his head as he muttered: "Honest Injun now, I really believe he did take it, and the joke's gone so far he just hates to own up. Oh! all right, Bumpus, I'll get on to your game sooner or later; and then the laugh will be with you, just wait and see." It was the purpose of Thad, in the absence of Dr. Philander Hobbs, the real scout-master of Cranford Troop, to daily put the scouts through various interesting exercises connected with the education of a Boy Scout. For instance there was the following of a trail in the woods, observing every little item of interest connected with it, until the properly educated scout would be able to actually describe the man who had made the tracks without ever having seen him, telling his height, whether thin or stout, even the color of his hair, what sort of shoes he wore, whether new or old, and that he walked with a limp, carried a cane, and many other interesting facts in connection with the unknown. Then there was photography in which two of the Silver Fox Patrol were deeply interested, so that they kept continually in a fever of expectancy regarding the prospects for pictures that would be out of the common. One of the scouts even went so far as to propose that the boys don their fancy pajamas in the broad daylight, and hunt up the friendly trees, in whose branches they had sought refuge when the bear first[86] invaded the camp; so that a snapshot could be taken that would preserve the event for all time. Bumpus, however, put his foot down flatly against having anything to do with such an "idiotic proceeding," as he chose to term it. "Huh!" he remarked, disdainfully; "all very fine for you fellows, looking so grand up in your leafy bowers, like a flock of queer parrots; but what about poor me, pinned there on the ground by that pesky old tent, that wouldn't let me back in? Think I want to be the butt of the joke? Count me out. I refuse to join in any such silly game." Besides there were classes in tying difficult knots, which every scout in good standing is supposed to know how to do neatly. Then came lessons in erecting and taking down the tents, so that every fellow might know just how to go about making camp, and breaking the same. In the water they played the game of landing the big fish, one of the boys allowing a stout line to be fastened to him; and then by swimming and struggling making it as difficult as possible for the angler to reel him in. Thad knew considerable about first "aid to the injured", because, as has been stated, he had belonged to a patrol before he came to Cranford. So he was able to show the others many things about stopping the flow of blood in case any one happened to be cut with a knife, or an ax, and bandaging the wound afterwards. But the drowning person being brought back to[87] life when it seemed next to hopeless was what interested Allan most of all. He had seen more than a few accidents while up in the woods of Maine, and knew of the very rough means adopted by the native guides looking to resuscitating a person who has been in the water until life seems extinct. So he eagerly watched the way Thad placed the supposed patient on his chest, and kneeling over him, started pressing down on his back while others worked his arms with a regular motion; the whole endeavor being to imitate breathing, and in this artificial way induce the muscles to take on genuine respiration. "That takes with me, I tell you," said Allan, eagerly. "I saw a man drowned once, and I believe right now his life could have been saved if only the guide had known the right way to go about it. I'll never forget that lesson, Mr. Scout-Master, never." "It's a splendid thing for any boy to know," said Thad, "and might save a chum's life at any time. Because, boys are always falling into the water, in summer while swimming, and in winter skating. I intend to practice that every day we're here. It's one of those things you may never want; but in case you do, you want it in a hurry." "How about the fire building tests?" demanded Giraffe, eagerly. "Yes, that's where Giraffe feels at home. Give him a chance to start a blaze, and you'll make him happy," laughed Step-hen.[88] "You know you're as good as licked, before we begin," replied the other, derisively. "I'm going to start on that fun right away," returned Thad. "Some of you may be thinking that we're spending entirely too much time with these things; but all the same they go right along with all that a Boy Scout has got to know. Pretty soon Cranford Troop will be getting its charter from the organization headquarters, and I'd like to have a few merit badges come along with it. That isn't all, either." "I reckon I can give a pretty good guess what you mean by shaking your wise old head that way, Thad, and looking sorter mysterious-like," declared Davy Jones; who seldom showed the proper amount of respect to the acting scout-master, that by rights he should. "Then tell us all about it, Davy; because we want to know," demanded Step-hen. "That's right, and we must know; so start up the music, Davy," said Giraffe. "Why, there's been a whole lot of talk between Thad and Allan here about the new Silver Fox Patrol taking a trip away from home. It's only a question of getting the money, and the consent of our parents and guardians. I guess the money part could be taken care of, all right; but when it comes to getting permission to really leave Cranford, and go down to the Blue Ridge mountains, that's another thing. It might be done; but my father is a lawyer, and hard to convince." "You're wrong there, Davy," said Thad, with[89] a laugh; "he was the easiest proposition of the whole lot to fix. There'll be no trouble in that quarter. What we can do about Smithy's mother is another thing." "But why the Blue Ridge mountains; whatever put that notion in your head, Thad?" demanded Giraffe, deeply puzzled. "I did, suh," announced Bob White, drawing himself up; "you see, I came from that section, and I've been telling my chums so much about it that they've become wild to make it a visit. And I invited them to drop in on my old home there, you understand. It would be very nice for me to have you all there as my guests; and to tell you the truth, my mother has been telling me that I ought to go down there right soon now on particular business. If you all could be with me, I should be mighty glad of it. And it might be a splendid thing foh me, I confess." "The Blue Ridge!" repeated Bumpus, as if to see just how it sounded. "Say, I've read a lot about the Alleghanies, the Big Smokies, and the Blue Ridge mountains down there in North Carolina, where Bob White came from; but honest now, I never expected to find myself there, at least not till I grew up. The Blue Ridge! Well, if so be you can win my folks over to letting me go along, say, won't I wake up the echoes in them old mountains with the merry notes of my bugle? But there goes the scout-master to start the fire building, and water boiling test. Come along boys and see who can beat Giraffe at his pet game!"[90] <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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