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CHAPTER XIII – ANOTHER HUNT FOR VENISON

“A good riddance to bad rubbish!” remarked Bluff, with a grin, as they saw the party disappear in the woods, with Bill Nackerson still snarling at his friends.

“I hope none of us will ever see that man again,” said Mr. Darrel, as he shook hands with each of his young friends.

“And, Bluff,” Frank observed, turning on the other, “I want to say that you did that business in fine shape. He seemed to have one eye on me, and I was afraid that if I started off to the cabin he would break loose.”

“That was a happy thought, your sending me,” replied Bluff, “and I’ll always feel that you did me a big favor. We’re sure glad to see you, Mr. Darrel. Hope you mean to spend some little time with us.”

“Only one night, boys,” replied the lumberman. “I have so much going on at Lumber Run Camp, with new men arriving daily, that it’s necessary for me to be on the job constantly. How are you all, anyway?”

“Feeling fine and dandy, sir,” Jerry told him.

“And getting some rattling good pictures in the bargain,” added Will. “I’ll show you what we’ve done, later on, sir.”

“How about you, Bluff?” demanded the lumberman, noticing that the other had not made any reply to his question. “I hope you’ve kept your appetite, and can come up smiling three times a day when the meal hour arrives?”

“Oh, I’m all right, Mr. Darrel!” replied Bluff. “Nothing the matter with my eating apparatus.”

During the rest of that day they had much to show their guest – and to tell him, as well. It seemed as though the lumberman was having the time of his life in the society of these bright young fellows. At least, he told them he was renewing his own youth.

They got up a supper later on that could be called sumptuous. Bluff and Frank exerted themselves to make a spread that would convince their guest they were well acquainted with camp cookery.

“I haven’t enjoyed a meal as much as that for years,” Mr. Darrel told them afterward, as they sat around the fire.

Bluff immediately commenced patting himself, as though he felt happy over having his work praised in this fashion. Will expected to start out presently, with one of the others for company, in order to place his camera trap again. He believed he could get a fox to take the tempting bait and thus photograph his own features.

The tongues clattered for several hours that evening. Mr. Darrel insisted on hearing scores of things connected with their past experiences. They had lots to tell, and every one took a hand in relating the story. It was almost like living those happy days over again, as they pictured the numerous thrilling episodes one after another.

Nothing would do but Bluff should arrange a couch on the floor, while their guest occupied his bunk. Mr. Darrel would have insisted on declining, only he saw how set the boy was upon carrying out his plan and what a deal of pleasure it seemed to afford him.

Indeed, Will and Jerry envied him that new bed when they saw what a cozy nest Frank and Bluff had made of it. A lot of hemlock browse, of which there was no lack in the vicinity of the woods cabin, had been piled up and covered with part of the blanket, the other fold being intended for a covering. As the fire was to be kept up through the night, since it was getting very cold outdoors, Bluff was not likely to suffer.

Mr. Darrel had been thoughtful enough to fetch his own blanket on his back. He knew each of the boys had one apiece, and realized that unless he provided for himself he must deprive one of them.

The owner of Lumber Run Camp stayed until the following noon. When finally he started back, two of the boys went part of the way with him.

“I hope to see you all again before many days, boys,” had been his parting words, “and if I don’t get over here, remember you must drop in at our camp on your way out. I want to keep in touch with such a fine lot of young chaps. And, Will, tell Uncle Felix for me that I’m a thousand times obliged to him for sending you up here. I feel ten years younger.”

Will was feeling very chipper that day. He had found his trap sprung, and upon developing the exposed film found that he had obtained a remarkably fine picture of a fox.

All the others told him he was making great headway toward winning that prize offered by the Maine railroad. The success that had rewarded his perseverance thus far did much to inspire Will with further ambition.

“If I could only get a view of a bull moose before we leave here, I think I’d be the happiest fellow in seven counties,” he said that evening, when again the four chums gathered before their crackling fire.

“Did you ever see a finer spell of brisk, bracing weather than we’ve been having?” Jerry wanted to know. “And, Frank, to-morrow we must be sure to get started on that hunt we’ve put off so long. The last bit of venison was cooked for supper to-night, you know; and what’s a camp in the woods without game hanging up?”

“That suits me all right,” Frank replied, “unless Will here, or Bluff, would rather keep you company.”

“Please don’t count on my doing any hunting with a murderous gun on this trip,” Will hastened to say. “I’m too much taken up with this new hobby of mine. Not that I would refuse to help eat any nice partridge, venison, or even bear meat, if you insist on bringing it into camp.”

At that the rest laughed.

“I’ve heard others talk that way before,” Frank remarked. “One old fellow who was said to be a natural woodsman, and who used to write splendid things for the sporting magazines, always boasted about going into the woods light, carrying little besides a blanket, a coffeepot, frying pan, cup, tin plate, and a few necessities in the way of coffee, tea, sugar, and the like.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of him, too,” broke in Bluff; “and while he used to make all manner of fun of the poor sillies who nearly broke their backs toting all sorts of good things like canned meats into camp, he confessed that he was always willing to help them get rid of the grub later on.”

In this lively fashion did they pass the evening, and then came the time for turning in. Another peaceful night followed. The boys were gradually forgetting Bill Nackerson and his threats. If they thought of him at all, it was with the hope that he had come to his senses, and concluded it would hardly pay to bother the inmates of the cabin, since they had such a stanch friend in the big lumberman.

On the following morning Jerry and Frank started off. The former was counting on making a respectable addition to the larder before they returned. Frank expected to take a new course, covering ground that none of them had as yet hunted over.

“At the same time,” he explained to Jerry, as they moved along, “I’m trying to keep a good distance away from the place where that other crowd is. We don’t hanker about having any trouble with Nackerson, and the best way to avoid it is to give him a wide berth.”

Presently it was thought advisable to keep still. In that frosty atmosphere even ordinary sounds could be heard at some distance, and deer have the sharpest of ears.

Of course, the hunters had headed up into what light wind was stirring, so that their coming might not be heralded by the scent upon which a wild animal depends to give him warning of the approach of danger.

A number of times they were flurried by flushing a covey of partridges. Jerry almost wished they had come prepared to load down with the birds; but until the last flickering chance of getting a deer had died out, Frank advised that they confine their attention to the one thing they had in mind.

“On the way home,” he told Jerry, when the other sighed at seeing three plump birds sitting on a limb within easy range, “we can get all we want, if the venison is missing.”

So Jerry had to be content. They had gone several miles from camp, and so far had not started a deer. Tracks in the snow had been seen several times. Indeed, Frank was really following a trail that he seemed to think rather fresh. It could do no harm, and might turn out a wise move on their part, Jerry realized, as he trotted along at the side of his chum.

“Did you hear anything like a shout then?” Frank suddenly asked.

Before Jerry could reply, it came again. This time the sound was seemingly close by, certainly not over a quarter of a mile away.

“Somebody’s in trouble, Frank!” exclaimed Jerry, immediately aroused. “That was a cry for help!”

“It certainly was,” agreed Frank. “We’ll push on in that direction; but let’s keep our eyes about us, and look sharp against anything like treachery.”

“You’re thinking of Nackerson?”

“Just who I am. He wouldn’t hesitate a minute if he could lure us into a trap. But that sound’s genuine enough, I must say.”

They hurried their footsteps. Indeed, the piteous nature of the cries thrilled the boys.

“He can’t be very far away now,” ventured Jerry, panting a little from his exertions.

“Just back of that scrub yonder,” replied Frank. “Let’s move out a little, and in that way we can see him before we get too close.”

Three minutes later Jerry broke out again.

“I can see him now, Frank! He’s sitting down and holding on to his foot. There he gets up again, and oh! my stars, Frank, what’s he got fastened to his leg? I declare to goodness if it doesn’t look like one of Jesse Wilcox’s bear traps!”

“Just what it is, Jerry, though it’s hard to believe!” added Frank, also excited. “Don’t you see who the poor chap is?”

“Why, as sure as anything it’s that Teddy we saw with Bill Nackerson on the train coming here! The poor fellow, to get himself in such a pickle as that!”

CHAPTER XIV – THE VICTIM OF THE BEAR TRAP

By this time the other boy had discovered their presence. He waved his hand, and begged them not to desert him, as he would soon freeze to death.

Frank had made up his mind no trap had been set for them, but that the agony of the poor fellow was genuine. Accordingly, he started on a run, with Jerry close at his heels.

Without waiting to ask questions, Frank set to work to release the imprisoned boy. While Teddy had been unable to get around to press down heavily enough on the double springs of the bear trap, it was not a difficult job for Frank to do, assisted by Jerry.

At first they almost dreaded to look closely at the leg of the released boy as he sat there in a heap, tenderly caressing it. When Frank did come to examine it, he was pleased to see that, after all, the damage was not so alarming.

“Luckily those springs have weakened with age; and then again the thick leather leggings you’re wearing have helped to save you some,” he told Teddy.

The leg had been lacerated more or less, and must have been exceedingly painful. Teddy was miles away from camp. He did not have a gun, and Frank began to wonder what could have brought him there. Apparently he must have been in the old bear trap for an hour or two.

“How did it happen, Teddy?” he asked, for information.

“I dunno just how I came to tread in that old trap,” the other replied, stopping his whimpering for a minute. “I was just walking along, and thinkin’ I’d soon get to Old Joe’s, when all at once it grabbed me. I thought at first I was killed. Then when I tried to get at the springs, and it seemed like my leg was beginnin’ to freeze, it scared me right bad. That’s why I hollered. I thought Joe might hear me.”

“Who’s Old Joe?” continued Frank.

“Why, you see, he’s a man that’s runnin’ a fur farm over this way,” Teddy explained. “He raises skunks for their skins. He was taken with me when he dropped in at our camp, and told me he wisht I’d come over and stay the winter out with him.”

“And were you on your way to his place when this happened?” asked Jerry.

The injured boy nodded his head in the affirmative. Frank was now down on his knees and starting to remove the legging. He meant to take a look at the wound, both to ascertain how serious it was, and perhaps do what he could to alleviate the suffering of the other.

“Did your uncle send you over to Old Joe’s?” he asked Teddy.

“Bill Nackerson isn’t really my uncle, you know, only a relation of some kind; and I’m right sorry now I ever asked him to take me on a hunting trip. I’ve led a dog’s life of it. After he knocked me down after supper last night I just couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“Then you ran away; is that what you mean?” inquired Jerry, deeply interested by this time and noting a bruise under Teddy’s eye.

“Just what I did,” muttered the boy. “After what I heard Bill Nackerson saying, I got the notion in my head that I wanted to cut out of there. Even a skunk farm couldn’t be quite so bad as he made it for me; anyhow, I was willin’ to take the chances. But that trap nearly finished me. What if you hadn’t heard me yelling?”

“You’d have had a hard spell of it, that’s sure,” Frank admitted. As it was below the freezing point at the time, he fancied poor Teddy might not have lived to see another day.

After he had examined the wound and managed to bind it up, he began to figure on what could be done. Plainly the deer hunt must be given up for that day. It seemed to be ill-fated, seeing that so many postponements were necessary.

Still, there was always a chance that on the way home they would pick up some partridges, which would have to do.

“Do you have any notion how far away this Old Joe’s place might be?” Frank asked Teddy, thinking that their best plan would be to get the boy there if it could be managed.

“I got an idea it was close by here,” replied Teddy. “He told me after I struck the little ravine on the trail it wasn’t more’n a quarter of a mile off.”

“If you think you can walk a little, with us helping you,” Frank continued, “we might go on and see if we can find the place.”

Jerry was sniffing the air at a lively rate.

“Yes, she’s close by, I give you my word for that,” he announced, as though he believed he was on the right scent.

Teddy seemed anxious to do all he could to help. He was desperately afraid the other boys might conclude to leave him, and as he was next to helpless the prospect alarmed him.

So they moved slowly along. Now and then the boy groaned a little. This was at such times as he happened to give his leg a wrench.

“I hope you’ll stand by me in case he ain’t home,” he ventured. “Joe, he told me he might shut up shop here and go to town for a month, so’s to be treated by a doctor for a trouble he’s got. I’m takin’ big chances in comin’ over without letting him know anything about it.”

“Well, we’re nearly there now,” observed Frank.

“There’s a wire fence!” exclaimed the injured boy. “See how tight it’s made, to keep the skunks from gettin’ away.”

“And I can see some sort of cabin farther on,” Frank announced.

As they drew nearer it struck them that everything looked deserted. Teddy was the first to voice his dismay.

“I don’t see a whiff of smoke comin’ from the chimbly,” he remarked. “I’m afraid he’s cleared out to town. Whatever will I do now? I just can’t stay here; and, as to gettin’ back to Bill’s place, I’d die on the way.”

They soon saw that the cabin was deserted. No doubt the raiser of skunks had made such arrangements as were possible, so that his pets might exist while he was away.

Frank knew there was only one thing that could be done: the wounded boy must be taken to their camp and looked after, for a short time at least. Later on, if he found he could walk fairly well, he might go back to the other cabin in which the rival hunters were quartered.

“Let’s see if we can find an old ax around,” Frank said.

“What are you meaning to do – break in the locked door?” Jerry inquired.

Teddy looked anxious, and full of curiosity besides.

“There’d be no use in doing that, because Teddy couldn’t stop here all by himself,” Frank explained.

“What do we want an ax for, then?” continued Jerry.

“It’s this way,” he was told: “we’ll have to get him back with us, because he can’t be left here. And as he can’t walk all the way, the thing for us to do is to knock some kind of a litter together and carry him between us.”

Jerry was immediately interested.

“Guess we can do that, all right, Frank,” he exclaimed; “and there’s your ax over by the chopping block. It’s a tough-looking thing, but might answer in an emergency like this.”

“You must never look a gift-horse in the mouth; it isn’t right,” Frank told him, as he laid hold of the nicked ax and looked around for some poles of the proper type.

“There’s where a tree was cut down some years ago,” Jerry told Frank. “See what a nest of young growth has started up around the stump! They’d make great hop poles, wouldn’t they? And I don’t see why we shouldn’t get all we want for our stretcher right here.”

“We certainly can,” replied Frank, beginning to swing the apology for an ax.

He soon began to fell the straight saplings by twos and threes. There would be no trouble about obtaining as many as they needed, it soon became apparent.

When a stack had been trimmed off, the two boys started to work making a rude litter. All they had to fasten the poles together with consisted of their stout bandannas and some cord Jerry chanced to find in his coat pocket.

As both lads were of an ingenious turn of mind, they managed to rig up a litter that looked pretty comfortable. Over the bars they spread a thick coat of hemlock, tearing off small branches so that the fragrant foliage might not be lost.

“And let me tell you,” remarked Jerry, when their work was finished, “I wouldn’t mind being carried on such an elegant litter, myself. Talk to me about Oriental palanquins and Jap jinrickshas; this has got the whole bunch beat, if I do say it as oughtn’t. Teddy, climb on, and let’s see how she goes.”

Teddy was only too willing to do so. He gave each of the boys a grateful look that spoke louder than the words he used to express his thanks.

“Shucks, don’t mention it!” said Jerry, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Why, we wouldn’t deserve to be called hunters if we did anything less. When people go to the woods they ought to be willing to hold out a helping hand to anybody that’s in trouble, even if it’s their worst enemy. If we ran on Bill, fixed the same way, we’d stand by him; wouldn’t we, Frank?”

“We’d feel that we had to,” was the reply.

It was with a feeling of chagrin that Jerry found himself heading for home and walking at one end of the litter. He managed to keep his gun handy, and the first time Frank spoke of seeing partridges close by the burden was hastily deposited on the ground, and, rifles in hand, the young hunters crept toward the spot.

In this foray they succeeded in dropping two birds, and that comforted Jerry a little. Later on the operation was repeated; and as several more partridges, instead of taking themselves off, insisted on perching in another tree, a third brace fell to the aim of the marksmen.

“My mind is easy now!” declared Jerry, when they had deposited this assortment of game upon the stretcher alongside the wounded boy. “No starvation staring us in the face yet awhile. I am chuckling to think how the other fellows will stare when they see what we’re bringing in with us.”

“You’re mighty good to me,” muttered Teddy, “and I’m a lucky feller to have run on you like I did. I got a good mind to tell something – mebbe I will yet.”

Whatever he had on his mind, Frank could guess that it was weighing heavily. He supposed, of course, that it had to do with Bill Nackerson. Perhaps Teddy had heard something while in the rival camp that concerned some evil work the ugly sportsman had been concerned in.

After taking a number of rests on the way, as the afternoon wore on they drew near their home camp. Jerry sent out a shout to warn Will and Bluff that they were coming. He wanted to make sure that both were outdoors on the watch; so that they might be mystified by seeing the hunters coming back in such a queer fashion.

Just as Jerry had anticipated, there was a loud shout of wonder.

“Why, whatever have you got?” Will exclaimed, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that the way you fellows fetch a deer home?” demanded Bluff; and then gaped anew when he discovered a head raised above the side of the litter.