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Pony Rider Boys in Louisiana

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<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> <h3>WOODMAN, SPARE THIS TREE</h3> "Now, what are you going to do?" questioned the guide. "I'll show you. Everyone get out of the way." Ned Rector swung the axe, burying the blade in the tree. "Ned, Ned!" warned the Professor. "He won't have to cut it down. Stacy will come down long before there is any danger," answered Walter. "Pshaw! You don't know how to chop," jeered Chunky. "George Washington, with his dull little hatchet, could out-chop you with one hand." Ned was making the chips fly just the same. His hat had dropped off and perspiration was rolling from his forehead, for his axe was not making as much impression on the tree as he had confidently expected it would. He made lots of chips, but they were thin ones. "Woodman, spare this tree," pleaded a mocking voice from above. "I will spare the tree, but I won't spare you," retorted Rector. "We shall have this tree on the ground within fifteen minutes." Stacy was tugging at a small bushy limb, but Ned was too busy to observe what the fat boy was doing. After considerable effort Chunky succeeded in breaking off the limb. He poised it carefully for a few seconds, then let go. The limb was not heavy, but in falling that distance it gained considerable momentum. The limb caught Ned fairly on top of the head, causing him to stagger back and sit down heavily, while his companions shouted and jeered, Billy Lilly looking on with a broad grin on his face. "Stop this instantly!" commanded the Professor. "I'll not have such goings on. Stacy, will you come down out of that tree?" "I will not." "I command you to come down." "Command him. Don't command me. How can I come down when Ned Rector is using the axe? He might chop me in two." "Stacy!" "Professor!" "Ned, put away that axe. We can't have anything like this." "But he smeared my face with mud after I had saved him from the 'gators," protested Ned. "He—he jumped on me. I had to stop him," answered the boy up the tree. The Professor motioned to Ned to go away, which Rector did rather unwillingly. "Now, come down here." Stacy hesitated, then wrapping both arms about the tree trunk he started down slowly. As he went he gained momentum, and the last eight or ten feet he shot down barely touching the tree, landing in a heap in the mud at the feet of his laughing companions. Stacy was up in a twinkling, fully expecting to find Ned Rector sprinting towards him. Ned, however, had remained by the tents. "You never mind! I'll take it out of you some other time. I'll owe you a thrashing until some more convenient time," warned Ned, shaking his fist at Stacy. "Now, young man, what excuse have you to offer for going into the lake?" demanded the Professor, laying a firm grip on Chunky's shoulder. "What excuse?" "That is what I asked." "Be—be—because I wanted to take a bath," answered the fat boy. "Go to your tent and finish dressing." "Yes, I guess Ichabod has breakfast nearly ready," added the guide. Stacy pricked up his ears at the word "breakfast," and started on a trot for the camp. "I'll fix you for that, one of these days," threatened Ned as Chunky sprang into his own tent, appearing neither to have seen nor heard Ned. The same condition existed at breakfast. Ned was casting threatening glances at the fat boy, which the latter was pleased to ignore. Once during the meal Chunky, chancing to catch Ned's eye, winked solemnly, whereupon Ned forgot his anger and laughed aloud. "That's the way it always ends. No one can stay mad at me for very long," wailed the fat boy. "That's the way my fun is always spoiled." "Do you like to have folks mad at you?" questioned Lilly. "Of course I do. What's the fun of living if somebody isn't making life interesting for you?" replied Stacy, gazing earnestly at the perplexed face of the guide. "I—I never heard it put just that way before, but I reckon maybe there's something in what you say," reflected Billy. "Of course there is. There is always something in what I say. I'll leave it to Tad, if there isn't." "I agree," laughed Butler. "But let's talk about the canebrake. Where do we go from here, Mr. Lilly?" "I reckon we will lay our course for Sunflower." "What is that?" asked Ned. "A flower," answered Stacy. "The common garden variety, like some persons we know." "You mean Sunflower River, do you not?" asked Tad. "Yes. What do you know about it?" inquired Lilly, raising his eyebrows. "Not very much. I know there is such a place some twenty miles to the westward of where we are located at present," answered Butler. "As I have said before, you boys don't need a guide." "No, I think we need a guardian as much as anything. I move that we appoint you as Master Stacy's guardian," suggested Ned. "Carried," shouted Walter. "Excuse me, as Ichabod would say. I may be something of a success as a guide, but as the guardian of our young friend I fear I should be a miserable failure. I am too slow for a job like that. It needs a younger and more active man than myself for that position." "You are right it does," piped up Stacy. "It needs a hustler to keep going with Stacy Brown. When do we strike camp?" "After breakfast," answered Tad. "That means you fellows will have some work to do," nodded Chunky. "It means you will have to do your share," replied Tad sharply. "You needn't think we are going to do your work for you this trip. Any man who shirks will be punished." "How?" "We haven't decided that yet. When we get into camp on the Sunflower River we are going to hold a meeting and draw up rules and regulations for the guidance of the Pony Rider Boys. Every man will have to abide by those rules, including Professor Zepplin," declared Tad. "I agree to them in advance. It is an excellent idea," approved the Professor. "Better not be too sure about that," laughed Tad. "We may make some regulations to which you will find it hard to submit. They will be very stringent." "Yes," urged Chunky. "The Professor needs discipline." "So do some others," muttered Tad. Immediately after breakfast the boys began their work of packing. They were glad to break camp after their experiences on Tensas Lake. It was not a comforting feeling to know that the waters almost underfoot were alive with dangerous reptiles. Then again these might come on shore in search of prey. Such things had been known. Beyond this the boys were eager to get into the heart of the canebrake and begin following the game trails of the southern jungle, an unknown section to most American people. Only a comparatively few sturdy hunters and rangers have followed these trails. The perils are too great, both from fever and from the denizens of the big swamp. "How are we ever going to drive our horses through?" questioned Tad. "That is easy when you know how," smiled Lilly. "But it was all I could do to get through on foot when I was out the other day." "You will find these horses are pretty handy in the swamp. The ordinary animal would be of no use at all. I will lead the way and show you something that will perhaps be new to you in forest travel." "It is all new to me," answered Tad. "All you folks have your horns with you in case we get separated. If you do, wind the horn until you get a reply." "Wind your horn?" wondered Stacy Brown. "Yes." "What do you wind it with?" "Oh, a piece of string," retorted Ned. "Winding the horn is blowing it, Stacy," Tad informed him. "Blow it for keeps in case you get lost or are in trouble." "Oh! Funny names you have for things down here. Won't it scare all the game out of the woods?" "It will if you blow the horn," laughed Ned. Laughing and joking the boys hurried the work of breaking camp, folding their tents into neat packages, putting every piece of equipment in its proper place. The boys liked to attend to all these details themselves, having been in the habit of doing things in the same way for so long. Then again they knew where everything was, right where to put their hands on any part of their equipment no matter how dark the night might be. When they were ready, the guide looked over the outfit and nodded approvingly. "I'll take the lead," he said. "Give your horses their heads. They will know how to follow; in fact, they will know better than you boys. After you have ridden the brake for a time you will know it as well as I do. And look out that you don't get sidewiped and dismounted by any of those low-hanging vines." "I should like to see the vine that could unhorse me," answered Stacy. The outfit started with the guide leading, Ichabod next, then Tad and the others. Stacy's saddle girth slipped as he grabbed the pommel to mount, causing him to sit down suddenly. The others were too fully occupied to notice his mishap, nor did they hear him call to them to wait for him. The riders swept away at a brisk running trot, which these experienced horses always adopted in working through the swamp or the canebrake. The way Lilly bored through the forest was a revelation to the boys. In and out among the great tree trunks he rode, dodging cypress knees, leaping fallen trees where not too high, slashing right and left with his long bush-knife, cutting a vine here or a limb there, leaving a broad, easily followed trail that even a novice would have had little difficulty in following, though of course at a slower pace. The boys were convulsed with laughter at the way Lilly bored his way through the jungle, the banged tail of his cob standing straight out, the tough little animal's ears laid back on its head, and nose thrust straight ahead. To Tad Butler the wild ride was a delight, only he would have preferred to be the one up in front, slashing and hewing the way for the others, for Tad was a natural leader and would have enjoyed work of this kind. In the meantime Stacy Brown had been left far behind, out of sight and out of sound of the rapidly moving outfit. As yet he had not been missed. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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