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Pony Rider Boys on the Blue Ridge

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<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> <h3>WHAT HAPPENED TO CHOPS</h3> "Boys, boys!" cried the Professor. "You don't know how relieved I am to see you safe and sound—" "And wet and miserable," added Stacy. "That doesn't make any difference so long as you are safe. I feared something serious might have happened to you." "There did. Tad was knocked out and I was lost up a tree," added the fat boy eagerly. "Oh, what a fine time we're having!" "Where is the guide?" "We are going back to look for him, Professor," answered Butler. "I don't know what has become of him." "And we don't care what's become of the Jonah," scoffed Chunky. "Got anything that looks like food in this outfit?" "Yes. By the way, Professor, how about the stores? Have you saved any from your packs?" questioned Tad. "I am afraid the provisions are in a sad state," answered Professor Zepplin ruefully. "But surely the canned stuff must be all right," urged Tad. "Yes, but where is the canned stuff? The pack holding the canned goods came open and everything spilled out," Walter Perkins informed them. Chunky groaned. "I see my end! Not satisfied with trying to drown me in a raging flood, you now propose to starve me to death! But I won't be starved. I'll go out and shoot a deer. I understand they are plentiful in this range of rocks." "I reckon you will have to get out of Smoky Pass before you carry out any of your well-laid plans," answered Ned. At Tad's suggestion, such stores and equipment as they had saved were taken from the packs and spread out on the ground to dry. Most of the biscuit were so soaked that they were falling apart. Not a single can of food was left, although a ham had been preserved from the wreck. Their extra clothing, too, had been saved from the flood, and merely needed drying to be fit for use. "We can live on ham for a long, long time," said Tad encouragingly. "Then there is the coffee which will be usable after we have dried it out. I propose that we leave all the stuff here with someone to watch it, while the rest of us go upstream to see what we can pick up, and at the same time look for Chops. I am mighty glad that we haven't lost our tents. Professor, will you stay here while we take the trail?" "Yes. But you will be careful, won't you?" "Of what?" "That you don't get into other difficulties." "No danger of that," answered Tad laughingly. "Everything that could occur already has happened, unless Stacy were to climb the side of the pass and fall off." "No, thank you," objected the fat boy. "You may stir up all the excitement you like, but no more for Stacy Brown until he is at least dried out from the last mixup." Tad now suggested that he and Ned go back to look for their lost property and their guide. "The rest of the party will remain here," he directed. "No need for you to go with us, but suppose we have something to eat first—ham and coffee, for instance." "We have no matches to start a fire with," reminded Walter Perkins. The boys looked very solemn. Chunky groaned dismally. "I knew you fellows would find some way to my distress—to the awful gnawing on the inside of me," he complained. "Never mind, young men," spoke up the Professor. "Find some reasonably dry wood or bark, and I will attend to the lighting end. Fortunately my match safe is intended for just such an emergency as this, and I do not believe we shall find any difficulty in making a fire, provided you rustle the fuel." The Pony Rider Boys gave a cheer for Professor Zepplin. The problem of finding wood, however, was almost as perplexing as had been that of the matches. Tad immediately jumped on his pony and trotted up the pass. He returned half an hour later, with a bundle of bark, dry sticks and a few pieces of pitchpine. A roaring fire was going soon after his arrival. The warmth from it felt good, indeed, to the wet and shivering Pony Riders. Breakfast that morning was limited, so far as variety was concerned, though there was plenty to eat, and the ham had grown perceptibly smaller when they finished, and not the least of this had found a resting place in the person of Stacy Brown. Stacy was quite willing to remain with Walter and the Professor. Tad and Ned started up the pass immediately after breakfast, and on the way up they recovered the missing ponies, except the pack animal, which must have been carried away with most of their stores. Later in the day they discovered Billy Veal fast asleep in the sunlight on a ledge of rock, some eight feet above the channel of the creek. How he had succeeded in getting up there neither Tad nor Ned could imagine, nor did Billy seem to know what had happened to him. He sat up, regarding them with wide eyes, after they had called to him several times. Great was their relief when they found him, but the next problem was how to get Billy down. This was solved by Tad's ever-ready rope. One end of this was tossed up to the guide with instructions to pass it about a nearby sapling, tossing the free end down to them. In this way Tad would only have to pull on one rope after the colored man had come down, then the rope would slip back to its owner. Shortly after that Billy was standing in the creek channel beside them. "Did you get wet, Chops?" asked Rector. "Yassir, nassir." "Did you get drowned?" asked Tad with a grin. "Nassir, yassir, I done—" "He doesn't know what happened to him," scoffed Ned. "You come along with us. There's work to be done today and if you don't do your share, I shall have something besides words for you," threatened Butler. They made the guide walk until they came up with his pony. Chops grinned broadly, delightedly, when he discovered his horse browsing contentedly beside the stream. "Wah-hoo-wah!" he shouted, flinging his arms above his head. "Who would have thought him to be so near human?" cried Ned. "Yes, there's hope for Chops yet. But we shall see," answered Butler. It was considerably past noon when they reached their companions on the return journey. A few of their belongings had been picked up in the pass, but not enough to relieve their critical situation. "Boys, I have been thinking, since you left. We shall have to find a place where we may replenish our stores, else we shall have to go back. Guide, do you know of a store anywhere near here?" asked the Professor. "Yassir." "You forgot something," laughed Tad. "Nassir," jeered Stacy. "Chops, you're a Jonah. I've said it before, and I say it again. Why, you couldn't go to the aquarium without some of the whales biting you." "That will do, Stacy. Now, guide, where is this store that you know about?" urged the Professor. "Jim Abs', sah. Ah reckon him done keep a store at Hunt's Corners, sah." "Good for you, Chops," cheered the boys. "How far is that from here?" "Right smart piece, ah reckon, sah." "How far, how far?" insisted Professor Zepplin. The Professor was near to losing his temper. "Right smart, sah, right smart." "It's hopeless," declared Butler. "The best we can do will be to follow him. See here, Chops, shall we be able to reach there before dark if we start out right away?" "Yassir, nassir." "He means no," interpreted Tad. "I wish you'd give me the key so I could understand what he does mean," said Ned disgustedly. "You'd have to get the key to the whale, if you expect to understand Jonah," scoffed the fat boy. "I would suggest that we start at once," said Tad. "The outfit is pretty well dried out now. It doesn't matter so much about the tents. They will dry quickly after they have been pitched. When we come to a good camping place we will go into camp along towards night. In the morning we can go on and find the store. Are you sure you know where it is, Billy?" "Guyot's Peak." "Very good, very good. You are improving, my man." "Yassir. T'ank you, sah." "Nassir, ah don't t'ank you, sah," mocked Stacy. "Let him alone, can't you?" demanded Ned savagely. "Yes, while he is trying to be good, help instead of discouraging him. You are enough to upset anyone," returned Tad, trying to be stern. The camp was pitched near a spring and there in the warm late afternoon sun a thorough drying out was given to both tents and equipment, with everyone in excellent humor. The boys even sang as they went about their work of dressing up the camp. Supper consisted of more ham and some excellent coffee, the latter having been thoroughly dried out before grinding. Chops, of course, ate his supper after the others had finished, one or another of the boys now and then tossing him a piece of food while they were eating, which Billy ordinarily swallowed whole. The evening was spent sitting about the campfire telling stories and joking with one another. At such times the Professor came in for a share of jibes, all of which he took with smiling face, frequently giving the boys back better than they had sent. Morning was ushered in with a brilliant sun, the birds singing all about them and the fresh odors of foliage and flowers in the air. Even Chunky began to sing before he had finished his dressing. "Anybody'd think you were a bird," called Rector. "Thank you for the compliment," retorted Stacy. "I didn't say what kind of a bird, did I?" jeered Ned. "What kind am I?" "You remind me of a crow. You sing like a crow. I'll wager that Chops can sing better than you." "How about it, Chops?" called Tad. "Yassir?" "Can you sing?" "Yassir." "Nassir," added Chunky. "Let's hear you," urged Walter. "Yes, I guess we can stand it after all we have been through," decided the fat boy. "Wha' you want me sing?" grinned Chops. "Sing something soft and low," begged Stacy. "No, none of those sob songs for mine," objected Ned. "Give us something to cheer us up. We need cheering." "Yassir." Chops cleared his throat and with frying pan in hand began to sing in a melodious voice: Quit dat playin' 'possum, Ah sees dem eyelids peep! Spec's to fool yo' mammy P'tendin' you'se ersleep. Smah'tes li'l baby dat uver drord a bref, Try ter fool he mammy, he gwine git sho'-nuff lef'. 'Possum, 'possum, 'possum mighty sly, 'Possum, 'possum, 'possum, ah sees you blink dat eye. Bye-o, bye-o, baby, 'Possum mighty sly, Bye-o, bye-o, baby, Bye-o, bye-o-bye. M-hm-m-m-m. M-hm-hm-hm! "Hooray!" howled the Pony Rider Boys. "''Possum mighty sly, Bye-o, bye-o, baby bye.'" "Go on. Sing some more," urged Tad. "Yes, for goodness' sake do something that you really know how to do," cried Ned Rector. Chops began swaying his body, swinging the frying pan from side to side. Then he launched into another song that set the boys joining in the chorus, swinging their own bodies, keeping time with the singer. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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