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Pony Rider Boys in New England

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<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> <h3>FACING NEW OBSTACLES</h3> "The first thing to be done," announced the guide, "is to get either some pitch pine or some birch bark." "Ha, ha!" laughed Stacy in a hollow voice. "Easily said." "I am afraid that is beyond me," declared Tad Butler. The other boys were of the same mind. Cale directed them to stand where they were while he made a search for the desired wood. They could hear him threshing around in the darkness, the sounds growing fainter and fainter until they were finally lost in the steady patter of the heavy raindrops showering down on them through the foliage. Now and then the raindrops became a deluge as a breeze, stirring the tops of the trees, sent a chilling shower over their shivering bodies. "Whoo-ee!" It was the voice of the guide. "Whoo-ee!" answered Tad. Cale was seeking for the camp. Tad's voice guided him quickly to it. "Did you find it?" questioned Butler as the guide strode in. "I did. I have some choice pine knots here. Wait until I whittle some fine shavings, then we will have a nice little fire. I've got some bark, too. That will answer until we get a light to see what we are about." "Shall I get out the dog tent?" asked Tad. "Yes, you might as well, if you can find it." "I know where to lay my hands on it." While Tad was occupied with this the other boys stood shivering against the trunks of trees, trying to shelter themselves from the storm, but without marked success. A faint light flared up as Vaughn struck a match under his hat, but a sudden gust extinguished it. "Boys, I am not fit to be called a woodsman," grumbled the guide. "I failed to fill my match safe before leaving camp this morning." "I have matches," spoke up Rector. "In a waterproof case?" asked the guide. "No, in my pocket." "No good! They are soaked to a pulp. Master Tad, have you a match safe?" "Yes, sir." "Good." "Oh, fudge, I have lost it," groaned Tad. "I am a greenhorn to do a thing like that." "No, it was not your fault that you lost it. It was my fault that I forgot to fill mine. So you are in the better position of the two," said Vaughn. "What are we going to do now?" asked Ned. "I'm going to stand against this tree until I fall over," declared Stacy. "There will be a dead Pony Rider Boy at the foot of this tree in the morning." "Buck up!" commanded Rector. "I can't. All the buck is soaked out of me," wailed the fat boy. "We might as well put up the tent while we are about it," advised Cale. "After that we shall see what can be done." "Is—is there anything to eat in the packs?" begged Chunky. "We shall find something," replied Cale cheerfully. "This is nothing, except the provoking part of not having any matches. Got the tent, Master Tad?" "Yes, sir." "I will cut a sapling or two for the frame; then we will put the camp to rights." "There are two saplings right here by the ponies that I think will answer the purpose. Shall I cut them, Mr. Vaughn?" asked Butler. "No, I will do that." Tad and the guide worked in the darkness almost to as good purpose as if the hour had been midday. In a short time they had pitched the little tent in which the five were to sleep that night. Next they gathered all the spruce and cedar boughs they could lay their hands on, shaking the water from the browse as best they could, then piling the stuff inside the tent until the little structure was almost full to the peak. "Isn't there anything I can do?" asked Ned. "Not now. Too many at this job would hold the work back," answered the guide. "You have a plan for getting a light?" questioned Butler. "I am going to try it," answered the guide. "Got anything dry about your person?" "My throat is the only dry part of me," answered Tad in a hoarse, laughing voice. "I think I have something dry. That part of my shirt that is under the tail of my coat I think is fairly dry. I am going to try to show you a trick worth while," announced the guide. Cale took a cartridge from his belt. He extracted the bullet with his teeth, then placed a wad over the powder. Next he ripped a piece of cloth from the lower part of his shirt, guarding it from the rain, and placing the cartridge in his rifle, he poked the piece of dry cloth loosely into the barrel of the gun. "Don't be scared, boys. I'm going to shoot," warned the guide. "Wha—what are you going to shoot at?" cried Stacy. "At you, if you don't keep still," answered the voice of one of the boys, though Chunky did not know which one. A flash and a report followed. A few seconds later the boys were amazed to see a glowing ball descending apparently from the tops of the tall spruce. "Good gracious, what is it?" cried Rector. "That is our light," answered the guide. "But I don't understand." "I will explain to you later. I'll warrant Master Tad understands." "Yes, I know how you did that, Mr. Vaughn. It's a trick worth while, too," answered Butler. "But what are you going to fire with it?" "You'll see. Will you shield me from the wind with a blanket while I am starting this fire, Butler?" Tad kept the blanket in place by standing on two corners, the other two corners being gripped in his upraised hands, while the guide, having pared some thin shavings from the pitch pine and made a pile of bark and pine ready for the flame, was blowing on the glowing wad that he had shot from the gun. All at once a little flame leaped up from the pine shavings. "Hooray!" shouted the Pony Rider Boys. "We don't need matches to build a fire in this outfit," laughed Tad. "No, we need neither matches nor gunpowder. I can start a fire anywhere, and so can you, Master Tad," returned Cale. "I shall believe it after this," nodded Tad. "Now if you will drive a couple of stakes into the ground on the windward side of the fire, and fasten the blanket up, I think the fire will stay where it is for the rest of the night, unless the wind shifts in the meantime. Come, boys, get the packs under the tent. Make yourselves useful unless you are in no hurry for your supper." This had the desired effect. The boys hustled. Their good humor returned instantly. Wet as they were—and they could have been no wetter had they jumped into a pond—they forgot all about discomfort in their eagerness to get ready for their late supper. The campfire had been built close to the front of the tent, whose roof, sloping back away from the fire, caught and deflected the heat down over the browse, drying that out very rapidly, filling the little tent with warmth. "This is what I call fine," declared Chunky, throwing himself down on the browse. "Come out of that," commanded Tad. "We are not ready to loaf yet. Bring the saddles in and stow them in the corner. Every man must do his part now." Stacy grumbled at this, but obeyed Tad's command, knowing that if he did not Tad would be after him with a sharp stick. Mr. Vaughn cooked the supper. There was not a great variety—bacon, biscuit and coffee, the water for which had been brought from a nearby spring. "You see," said Cale, while doing the cooking, "how necessary water is to a camp. Had we not staked down our ponies by the spring here before leaving them this forenoon we would be in a fix now and obliged to go to bed supperless. It would have been a thankless task to look for a spring at this time of the night in the rain. However, I don't need to tell you this. You have been through it before." "We have," answered Tad. "We have learned the value of water from sad experience." "So have I," agreed the fat boy. "I use it for washing every day." "Come and get it," cried the guide. They arranged themselves as best they could in the tent, while Cale handed around the supper. There was little conversation for the next ten minutes. The boys were too busy. "After supper we shall have to rustle for firewood," said the guide after a time. "I will look after that," offered Tad. "We will all go out," added Rector. "No, it isn't necessary for all of us to get wet," answered Tad. "I suppose the ponies will have to stay out in the wet, but they are used to that. Do we go back to our other camp in the morning, Mr. Vaughn?" "Yes. One day and night of this, I guess, will be enough for you boys for one time." "I wouldn't mind a month of it," answered Tad. "Nor I," agreed Ned. "Not for me," spoke up Stacy. "I have had enough to last me a lifetime already. Next time I remain in camp, bears or no bears. Just think of the Professor snoring away in that nice, comfortable tent. Oh, dear!" No one gave heed to the fat boy's plaints. They were enjoying themselves too thoroughly after their long wet walk. After supper the boys began to put the camp in shape for the night. Tad cut down a tree, getting a shower of water over him and wetting himself to the skin again. This tree he chopped into proper lengths for a campfire while Ned and Walter toted them to camp. The interior of the tent was thoroughly dried out by this time, so that when they were ready for bed their bedroom was warm and sweet and dry. They had dried out their blankets fairly well, and wrapping up in them the boys settled down for a night's rest just at midnight. They did not remember ever to have had a better night's rest. It seemed as if they had just gone to sleep when they were awakened by Cale. "Time to get up," he called cheerily. "We will have a quick breakfast, then you will lead us back to camp, Master Tad." Packs were quickly lashed after breakfast, and before the sun had topped the fronds of the great pines the party was wending its way through the trackless forest, Tad leading the way with unerring instinct, backed by keenest observation. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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