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CHAPTER XIII
ON THE WAY

“It all comes back to me again, when I see that frozen mud bank over there, fellows,” called out Frank Savage, after they had been pushing their way along the rough canal for some time.

“How many times we did get stuck on just such a mud bank,” laughed Paul. “I can shut my eyes even now, and imagine I see some of us wading alongside, and helping to get our motor boats out of the pickle. I think Bobolink must dream of it every once in a while, for he had more than his share of the fun.”

“It was bully fun all right, say what you will!” declared the boy mentioned, “though like a good many other things that are past and gone, distance lends enchantment to the view.”

“That’s right,” echoed Tom Betts, “you always seem to forget the discomforts when you look back to that kind of thing, and remember only the jolly good times. I’ve come home from hunting as tired as a dog, and vowed it would be a long while before I ever allowed myself to be tempted to go again. But, fellows, if a chum came along the next day and asked me I’d fall to the bait.”

A chance to do a little sailing interrupted this pleasant exchange of reminders. But it was for a very short distance only that they were able to take advantage of a favoring breeze; then the boys found it necessary to push the boats again.

Some of them strapped on their skates and set out to draw the laden iceboats as the most logical way of making steady progress.

“What are two measly miles, when such a glorious prospect looms up ahead of us?” cried Sandy. “We ought to be at the old Radway by noon.”

“Yes,” added Bobolink, quickly. “And I heard Paul saying just now that as we were in no great hurry he meant to call a halt there for an hour or more. We can start a fire and have a bully little warm lunch, just to keep us from starving between now and nightfall, when a regular dinner will be in order.”

Of course, this set some of the boys to making fun of Bobolink’s well known weakness. The accused scout took it all as good natured joking. Besides, who could get angry when engaged in such a glorious outing as that upon which they were now fully embarked? Certainly not the even-tempered Bobolink.

From time to time the boys recognized various spots where certain incidents had happened to them when on their never-to-be-forgotten motor boat cruise of the preceding summer.

It was well on towards noon when they finally reached the place where the old connecting canal joined the Radway river. It happened, fortunately for the plans of the scouts, that both streams were rather high at the setting in of winter, which accounted for an abundance of ice along the connecting link.

“Looky there, Paul. Could you find a better place for a fire than in that cove back of the point?” demanded Bobolink, evidently bent on reminding the commander-in-chief of his promise.

“You’re right about that,” admitted Paul, “for the trees and bushes on the point act as a wind break. Head over that way, boys, and let’s make a stop for refreshments.”

“Good for you, Paul!” cried Spider Sexton, jubilantly. “I skipped the best part of my usual feed this morning, I was so excited and afraid I might get left; and I want to warn you all I’m as empty right now as a drum. So cook enough for an extra man or two when you’re about it.”

“Huh! you’ll take a hand in that job yourself, Spider,” asserted Bobolink, pretending to look very stern, though he knew there would be no lack of volunteers for preparing that first camp meal. Enthusiasm always runs high when boys first go into the woods, but later on it gets to be an old story, and some of the campers have to be drummed into harness.

A fire was soon started, for every one of the scouts knew all about the coaxing of a blaze, no matter how damp the wood might seem. The scouts had learned their lesson in woodcraft, and took pride in excelling one another on occasion.

Then a bustling ensued as several cooks busied themselves in frying ham, as well as some potatoes that had already been boiled at home. When several onions had been mixed with these, after being first fried in a separate pan, the odors that arose were exceedingly palatable to the hungry groups that stood around awaiting the call to lunch.

Coffee had been made in the two capacious tin pots, for on such a bracing day as this they felt they needed something to warm their systems. Plenty of condensed milk had been brought along, and a can of this was opened by puncturing the top in two places. Thus, if not emptied at a sitting, a can can be sealed up again, and kept over for another occasion.

“As good a feed as I ever want to enjoy!” was the way Bobolink bubbled over as he reached for his second helping, meanwhile keeping a wary eye on the boy who had warned them as to his enormous capacity for food.

“It is mighty fine,” agreed Wallace Carberry, “but somehow, fellows, it seems like a funeral feast to me, because it’s the last time I’ll be able to join you. Never felt so bad in my life before. Shed a few tears for me once in a while, won’t you?”

The others laughingly promised to accommodate him. Truth to tell, most of them did feel very sorry for Wallace and the other boys whose parents had debarred them from all this pleasure before them.

When the hour was up another start was made. This time they headed up the erratic Radway. The skaters still clung to them, bent on seeing all they could of those whom they envied so much.

Progress was sometimes very tedious, because the wind persisted in meeting them head on, and it is not the easiest task in the world to force an iceboat against a negative breeze. Tacking had to be resorted to many times, and each mile they gained was well won.

The boys enjoyed the exhilarating exercise, however, and while there were a few minor accidents nothing serious interfered with their progress.

It was two o’clock when they sighted Lake Tokala ahead of them. Shouts of joy from those in advance told the glad story to the toilers in the rear. This quickened their pulses, and made them all feel that the worst was now over.

When the broad reaches of the lake had been gained they were able to make speed once more. It was the best part of the entire trip—the run across the wide lake. And how the sight of Cedar Island brought back most vividly recollections of the happy and exciting days spent there not many months before!

Wallace and his three chums still held on. They declared they were bound to stick like “leeches” until they had seen the expedition safely across the lake. What if night did overtake them before they got back to the Bushkill again? There would be a moon, and skating would be a pleasure under such favorable conditions.

“Don’t see any signs of another wild man on the island, do you, Jack?” asked Tom Betts, as the Speedaway fairly flew past the oasis in the field of ice that was crowned by a thick growth of cedars, which had given the island its name.

“Nothing doing in that line, Tom,” replied the other with a laugh. “Such an adventure happens to ordinary fellows only once in a life-time. But then something just as queer may be sprung on us in the place we’re heading for.”

The crossing of Tokala Lake did not consume a great deal of time, for the wind had shifted just enough to make it favor them more or less much of the way over.

“I c’n see smoke creeping up at the point Paul’s heading for,” announced Tom Betts. “That must come from the cabin we heard had been built here since we had our outing on the lake.”

“We were told that it stood close to the mouth of the creek which we have to ascend some miles,” remarked Jack. “And this man is the one we think to leave our boats in charge of while away in the woods.”

“I only hope then that he’ll be a reliable keeper,” observed Tom, seriously, “for it would nearly break my heart if anything happened to the Speedaway now. I’ve only tried her out a few times, but she gives promise of beating anything ever built in this section of the country. I don’t believe I could duplicate her lines again if I tried.”

“Don’t borrow trouble,” Jack told him. “We’ll dismantle the boats all we can before we leave them, and the chances are ten to one we’ll find them O.K. when we come out of the woods two weeks from now. But here we are at the place, and the boys who mean to return home will have to say good-bye.”

CHAPTER XIV
THE RING OF STEEL RUNNERS

As the little flotilla of ice yachts drew up close to the shore, the sound of boyish laughter must have been heard, for a man was seen approaching. He came from the direction of the cabin which they had sighted among the trees, and from the mud and stone chimney of which smoke was ascending straight into the air—a promise of continued good weather.

The boys were climbing up the bank when he reached them. So far as they could see he appeared to be a rough but genial man, and Paul believed they could easily trust him to take care of the boats while away.

“I suppose you are Abe Turner, spoken of by Mr. Garrity?” was the way Paul addressed the man, holding out his hand in friendly greeting.

The other’s face relaxed into a smile. Evidently he liked this manly looking young chap immediately, as most people did, for Paul had a peculiarly winning way about him.

“That’s my name, and I reckon now you must be Paul,” said the other.

“Why, how did you know that?” demanded Bobolink, in surprise.

“Oh! I had a letter from Mr. Thomas Garrity telling me all about you boys, and ordering me to do anything you might want. You see he owns all the country around here, an’ I’m holding the fort until spring, when there’s going to be some big timber cutting done. We expect to get it to market down the Radway.”

The scouts exchanged pleased looks.

“Bully for Mr. Thomas Garrity!” shouted Tom Betts, “he’s all to the good, if his conversion to liking boys did come late in life. He’s bound to make up for all the lost time now. Three cheers, fellows, for our good friend!”

They were given with a rousing will, and the echoes must have alarmed some of the shy denizens of the snow forest, for a fox was seen to scurry across an open spot, and a bevy of crows in some not far distant oak trees started to caw and call.

“All we want you to do for us, Abe,” explained Paul, “is to take good care of our five iceboats, which we will have to leave with you.”

“And we might as well tell you in the beginning,” added Bobolink, “that several tough chaps from our town have come up here to spend some time, just from learning of our plans.”

“Yes,” went on Tom Betts, the anxious one, “and nothing would tickle that Hank Lawson and his gang so much as to be able to sneak some of our boats away, or, failing that, to smash them into kindling wood with an axe.”

Abe nodded his shaggy head and smiled.

“I’ve heard some things about Hank Lawson,” he observed. “But take it from me that if he comes around my shanty trying any of his tricks he’ll get a lesson he’ll never forget. I’ll see to it that your boats are kept safe. I’ve two dogs off hunting in the woods just now, but I’ll fasten ’em nigh where you store the boats. I’m sorry for the boy who gets within the grip of Towser’s teeth, yes, or Clinch’s either.”

That was good news to Tom, who smiled as though finally satisfied that there was really nothing to be feared.

“Sorry to say we’ll have to be leaving you, boys,” announced Wallace just then, as he started to go the rounds with a mournful face, shaking hands with each lucky scout whom he envied so much.

“Hope you have the time of your lives,” called out another of those who were debarred from enjoying the outing.

These boys started away, looking back from time to time as they crossed wide Lake Tokala. Finally, with a last parting salute, they darted into the mouth of the canal and were lost to view.

There was an immediate bustle, for time was flitting, and much remained to be done. The five owners of the iceboats proceeded to dismantle them, which was not a tedious proceeding. The masts were unstepped and hidden in a place by themselves. The sails were taken into the cabin of Abe, where they would be safe.

Meanwhile, the other boys had been engaged in making up the various packs which from now on must be shouldered by each member of the expedition. Experience in such things allowed them to accomplish more in a given time than novices would have been able to do.

“Everything seems to be ready, Paul,” announced Jack after a while, as they gathered around, each boy striving to fix his individual pack upon his back, and getting some other fellow to adjust the straps.

Bobolink seemed to have half again as much as any of the others, though this was really all his own doing. Besides his usual share of the luggage he had pots and pans and skillets sticking out in all directions, so that he presented the appearance of a traveling tinker.

“It’s a great pity, Bobolink,” said Tom Betts, with a grin, as he surveyed his comrade after helping the other load up, “that you were born about seventy-five years too late.”

“Tell me why,” urged the other.

“Think what a peddler you would have made! You’d have been a howling success hawking your goods around the country.”

Of course they had all adjusted their skates before taking up their packs; for bending down would really have been next to a physical impossibility after those weighty burdens had been assumed.

“Hope you have a right good time, boys,” said Abe Turner in parting. “And don’t any of you worry about these boats. When you come back this way you’ll find everything slick and neat here.”

“Good for you, Abe,” cried Tom Betts. “And make up your mind to it the Banner Boy Scouts never forget their friends. You’re on the list, Abe. Good-bye!”

They were off at last, and it was high time, for the short December day was already getting well along toward its close. Night would come almost before they knew it, though they had no reason to expect anything like darkness, with that moon now much more than half full up there in the heavens.

Some of the boys had noticed the mouth of this creek when camping on Cedar Island the previous summer. They had been so much occupied with fishing, taking flashlight pictures of little wild animals in their native haunts, and in solving certain mysteries that came their way that none of them had had time to explore the stream.

On this account then it would prove to be a new bit of country for them, and this fact rather pleased most of the boys, as they dearly loved to prowl around in a section they had never visited before.

Strung out in a straggling procession they skated along. The creek was about as crooked as anything could well be, a fact that influenced Bobolink to shout out:

“In the absence of a better name, fellows, I hereby christen this waterway Snake Creek; any objections?”

“It deserves the name, all right,” commented Spider Sexton, “for I never saw such a wiggly stream in all my born days.”

“Seems as if we had already come all of five miles, and nary a sign of a cabin ahead yet that I can see,” observed Phil Towns, presently, for Phil was really beginning to feel pretty well used up, not being quite so sturdy as some others among the ten scouts.

“That’s the joke,” laughed Paul; “and it’s on me I guess more than any one else. I thought of nearly a thousand things, seems to me, but forgot to ask any one just how far it was up to the cabin from the lake by way of this scrambling creek.”

“Why, I’m sure Mr. Garrity said something like six miles!” exclaimed Jack.

“Yes, but that may have meant as the crow flies, straightaway,” returned the scout-master.

“At the worst then, Paul,” Bobolink ventured to say, “we can camp, and spend a night in the open under the hemlocks. Veteran scouts have no need to be afraid to tackle such a little game as that, with plenty of grub and blankets along.”

“Hear! hear!” said Phil Towns. “And as the sun has set already I for one wouldn’t care how soon you decided to do that stunt.”

“Oh! we ought to be good for another hour or so anyway, Phil,” Tom told him, at which the other only grunted and struck manfully out again.

As evening closed in about them, the shadows began to creep out of the heavy growth of timber by which the skaters were surrounded.

“Look! look! a deer!” shrieked Sandy Griggs, suddenly. Thrilled by the cry the others looked ahead just in time to see a flitting form disappear in the thick fringe of shrubbery that lined one side of the creek

CHAPTER XV
TOLLY TIP AND THE FOREST CABIN

“Oh! that’s too bad!” exclaimed Spider Sexton, “I’ve been telling everybody we’d taste venison of our own killing while off on this trip, and there the first deer we’ve glimpsed gives us the merry ha-ha!”

“Rotten luck!” grumbled Jud Elderkin. “And me with a rifle gripped in my fist all the time. But I only had a glimpse of a brown object disappearing in the brush, and I never want to just wound a deer so it will suffer. That’s why I didn’t fire when I threw my gun up.”

“With me,” explained Jack Stormways, “it happened that Bluff here was just in my way when I had the chance to aim.”

“Well,” laughed Bobolink, “you might have shot straight through his head, because it’s a vacuum. I once heard a teacher tell him so when he failed in his lessons every day for a week.”

“Oh! there’s bound to be plenty of deer where you can see one so easily,” Paul told them, “so cheer up. Unless I miss my guess we’ll have all sorts of game to eat while up here in the snow woods. Abe said it was a big season for fur and feather this year.”

They kept plodding along and put more miles behind them. The moon now had to be relied on to afford them light, because the last of the sunset glow had departed from the western heavens.

Phil was beginning to feel very tired, and feared he would have to give up unless inside of another mile or two they arrived at their intended destination. Being a proud boy he detested showing any signs of weakness, and clinched his teeth more tightly together as he pressed on, keeping a little behind the rest, so that no one should hear his occasional groan.

All at once a glad cry broke out ahead, coming from Sandy Griggs, who at the moment chanced to be in the van.

“I reckon that’s a jolly big fire yonder, fellows, unless I miss my guess!” he told them.

“It is a fire, sure thing,” agreed Bobolink.

“Tolly Tip has been looking for us, it seems, and has built a roaring blaze out of doors to serve as a guide to our faltering steps!” announced Jud, pompously, although he could hardly have been referring to himself, for his pace seemed to be just as swift and bold as when he first set out.

“It’s less than half a mile away I should say, even with this crooked stream to navigate,” announced Bobolink, more to comfort Phil than anything else.

“Keep going right along, and don’t bother about me, I’m all right,” called the latter, cheerfully, from the rear.

In a short time the scouts drew near what proved to be a roaring fire built on the bank of the creek. They could see a man moving about, and he must have already heard their voices in the near distance for he was shading his eyes with his hand, and looking earnestly their way.

“Hello, Tolly Tip!” cried out the boisterous Bobolink. “Here we come, right-side up with care! How’s Mrs. Tip, and all the little Tips?”

This was only a boyish joke, for they had already been told by Mr. Garrity that the keeper of the hunting lodge was a jolly old bachelor. But Bobolink must have his say regardless of everything. They heard the trapper laugh as though he immediately fell in with the spirit of fun that these boys carried with them.

“He’s all right!” exclaimed Bobolink, on catching that boisterous laugh. “Who’s all right? Tolly Tip, the keeper of Deer Head Lodge, situated in Garrity Camp! For he’s a jolly good fellow, which none can deny!”

Amidst all this laughter and chatter the ten scouts arrived at the spot where the welcoming blaze awaited them, to receive a warm welcome from the queer, old fellow who took care of Mr. Garrity whenever the latter chose to hide away from his business vexations up here in the woods.

The boys could see immediately that Tolly Tip was about as queer as his name would indicate. At the same time they believed they would like him. His blue eyes twinkled with good humor, and he had a droll Irish brogue that was bound to add to the flavor of the stories they felt sure he had on the end of his tongue.

“Sure, it’s delighted I am to say the lot av yees this night,” he said as they came crowding around, each wanting to shake his hand fiercely. “Mr. Garrity towld me in the letther he was after sindin’ up with the tame that ye war a foine bunch av lads, that would be afther kapin’ me awake all right. And sure I do belave ’twill be so.”

“I hope we won’t bother you too much while we’re here,” said Paul, understanding what an energetic crowd he was piloting on this excursion.

“Ye couldn’t do the same if ye tried,” Tolly Tip declared, heartily. “I have to be alone most all the long winther, an’ it do be a great trate to hav’ some lively lads visit me for a s’ason. Fetch the packs along wid ye into the cabin. I want to make ye sorry for carrying all this stuff wid ye up here.”

His words mystified them until, having entered the capacious cabin built of hewn logs, with the chinks well filled with hard mortar, they were shown a wagonload of groceries which Mr. Garrity had actually taken secret pleasure in purchasing without letting the boys know anything about it.

A team had found its way across the miles of intervening woods, and delivered this magnificent present at the forest lodge. It was intended to be a surprise to the boys, and Mr. Garrity certainly overwhelmed them with his generosity.

Bobolink alone was seen to stand and gaze regretfully at the small edition of a grocery store, meanwhile shaking his head sorrowfully.

“What ails you, Bobolink?” demanded one of his chums.

“It can’t be done, no matter how many meals a day we try to make way with,” the other solemnly announced. “I’ve been calculating, and there’s enough stuff there to feed us a month. Then, besides, think of what we toted along. Shucks! why didn’t Nature make boys with India rubber stomachs.”

“Some fellows I happen to know have already been favored in that line,” hinted Tom Betts, maliciously; “but as for the rest of us, we have to get along with just the old-fashioned kind.”

“Cheer up, Bobolink,” laughed Paul; “what we can’t devour we’ll be only too glad to leave to our good friend Tolly Tip here. The chances are he’ll know what to do with everything so none of it will be wasted.”

“When a man who all his life has been as tightfisted as Mr. Garrity does wake up,” said Phil Towns, “he goes to the other extreme, and shames a lot of people who’ve been calling themselves charitable.”

“Oh! that’s because he has so much to make up, I guess,” explained Jud.

While some of the boys started in to get a good supper ready the others went around taking a look at the cabin in the snowy woods that was to be their home for the next twelve days.

It had been strongly built to resist the cold, though as a rule the owner did not come up here after the leaves were off the forest trees. A stove in one room could be used to keep it as warm as toast when foot-long lengths of wood were fed to its capacious maw. The fire in the big open hearth served to heat the other room, and over this the cooking was also done.

Several bunks gave promise of snug sleeping quarters. As these would accommodate only four it was evident that lots must be cast to see who the lucky quartette would prove to be.

“To-morrow,” said Paul, when speaking of this lack of accommodations, “one of the very first things we do will be to fix other bunks, because every scout should have a decent place for his bed. There’s plenty of room in here to make a regular scout dormitory of it.”

“Fine!” commented Tom Betts; “and those of us who draw the short straws can manage somehow with our blankets on the floor for one night, I guess.”

“We’ve all slept soundly on harder beds than that, let me tell you,” asserted Bobolink, “and for one I decline to draw a straw. Me for the soft side of a plank to-night, you hear.”

The other boys knew that Bobolink, in his generosity, really had in mind Phil and one or two more of the boys, not quite so accustomed to roughing it as others of the campers.

That supper, eaten under such novel surroundings, would long be remembered; for while these boys were old hands at camping, up to now they had never spent any time in the open while Jack Frost had his stamp on all nature, and the earth was covered with snow.

It was, all things considered, one of the greatest evenings in their lives.