Canoe Boys and Campfires Part 7

"Then you must have scared these fellows off," said Ned. "That accounts for nothing being stolen. Everything of value was in the tent, however, and I don't suppose they cared to meddle with the canoes."

"Do you think these are the same men that the farmer chased off his land?" asked Randy.

"Very likely," replied Ned. "I'm sorry now that I didn't inquire more about them. The best thing we can do is to break camp and put about ten miles between us and this place."

"That would be cowardly," exclaimed Randy. "We have no reason to be afraid of these fellows. They'll get a warm reception if they meddle around camp again. Let's stay here for one day anyhow. We won't find many prettier places, and besides, I'm anxious to do some hunting and fis.h.i.+ng."

Clay seemed disposed to side with Randy, while Nugget favored both sides of the question. He wanted to go, and he was just as anxious to catch some more ba.s.s down at the point of rocks.

Ned hesitated for a moment. He knew that it would be the more prudent plan to break camp at once, but the same time he was not inclined to insist upon it, and thus incur the ill will of his companions.

"I see that the majority is against me," he said good naturedly. "But if we get in any kind of a sc.r.a.pe you fellows will shoulder the blame, that's all."

The boys appeared to be satisfied with this arrangement. They trooped off to the brook to wash, while Ned turned aside to make the fire.

After breakfast Randy shouldered his gun and started down the creek in search of snipe or woodc.o.c.k. Clay and Nugget caught a pailful of minnows and departed for the point of rocks, for this was the time of day when the ba.s.s would probably bite best.

Ned did not accompany them. He had the true appreciation of outdoor life, and was never happier than when doing odd bits of work around the camp. He occupied himself in this way for an hour or two--arranging the interior of the tent, hanging the blankets out to air, stacking the wood neatly by the fireplace, and scrubbing the frying pans and the outside of the coffee pot with sand and gravel.

He was scooping out a little fish pond at the mouth of the brook when Randy returned.

"What luck?" he asked, looking up from his work.

"Not a thing," answered Randy in a disappointed tone. "The snipe are all on the other side of the creek. I'm going after them now in my canoe. I tramped along the sh.o.r.e for at least a mile, Ned, and I didn't see a trace of anybody, either on this side or on the other. Our midnight visitors must have cleared out for good."

"I hope they have," said Ned. "What luck are the boys having?"

"Four ba.s.s, and one of them is a big fellow. Help me up with my canoe now, will you?"

Ned rendered the desired a.s.sistance.

"Don't stay too long," he told Randy.

"I'll be back inside of an hour," was the reply, as the other paddled swiftly down the creek.

Ned finished the fish pond to his satisfaction, and feeling a little tired, he climbed up the slope and threw himself down in a clump of high gra.s.s behind the tent. He was gazing dreamily up the creek with his head resting on his outstretched arms, when a boat containing two persons came suddenly into view around the bend.

Ned crept a little deeper into the gra.s.s, where he could see without being seen. The boat was now out of sight behind the trees, but when it reappeared a moment later, directly opposite the camp, a single glance satisfied Ned that it was not the same craft which had landed at the mouth of the brook during the previous night.

This was a rude affair known as a "flat." It was long and narrow, with square ends and sides, and from its cranky motion evidently had no keel.

The occupants were young fellows of twenty or thereabouts. They were roughly dressed, and their general appearance was by no means favorable.

They stopped paddling in amazement when they caught sight of the camp, and after a brief conversation, which Ned did not catch, they ran their craft on sh.o.r.e a few yards below the mouth of the brook.

Ned s.h.i.+fted his position, and watched their movements curiously. The strangers evidently intended to pitch a camp of their own, for they made frequent trips up the slope, carrying blankets and tin pails, and various other articles. Then they chopped down a number of fine shoots, and constructed, in a brief s.p.a.ce of time, a snug lean-to between two big trees.

Having placed their things in this--casting suspicious glances all the while at the tent--they went back to the boat, climbed in, and paddled swiftly down the creek.

Ned rose to his feet, and looked after them in amazement. As the boat vanished around the sharp curve that the creek made immediately below the camp, he noticed for the first time a bait box trailing on behind.

"I understand it now," he muttered. "Those fellows are out for a fis.h.i.+ng trip, and they're going down to the rocks to set their lines. I hope they won't get into a row with Clay and Nugget."

The possibility of such a thing made Ned uneasy. He stood in perplexity for a moment or two, and had just made up his mind to go down and look after the boys, when the sound of loud, angry voices reached his hearing.

He hesitated no longer, but leaped down the slope and ran at full speed along the beach. Bursting through a covert of reeds and tall bushes, he emerged within a few yards of the rocks.

On the outermost bowlder, close to the swirling current, were Nugget, Clay, and the two strangers. The flat was drawn out on sh.o.r.e.

As Ned put foot on the nearest rock the taller of the strange lads struck Nugget violently on the arm with a paddle. Clay immediately hit the cowardly fellow in the breast, and in the struggle that followed the latter lost his balance and rolled backward into the swift current. His companion pounced on Clay, and they came down together on the rock, while Nugget stood by, holding his injured arm and shouting for help.

Ned took in the situation at a glance. He saw that the lad in the water was a poor swimmer, and could make no headway against the current.

Without stopping to count the cost he threw off his coat, and ran to the edge of the bowlder.

"Bring the boat quick!" he shouted to Clay and his a.s.sailant, who had fallen apart and were glaring wrathfully at each other.

Then Ned put his arms together and dived head first into the foaming water. He came to the surface half a dozen yards below, and struck out vigorously for the struggling lad, who was by this time on the point of exhaustion.

Ned was an admirable swimmer, and absolutely fearless in the water.

"Keep cool, and don't struggle," he shouted, as he reached the fellow and put on hand on his collar.

The other had sense enough to obey, and both floated down stream together.

It was out of the question for Ned to reach the sh.o.r.e immediately with his heavy burden, and as Clay and the other lad were slow about launching the boat, the affair might have ended seriously. But just at that time Randy came paddling up the creek in his canoe, and spied the drifting figures.

He was soon alongside, and as the stern of the Water Sprite swung toward them, Ned and his companion each threw an arm over it.

Then Randy paddled for the sh.o.r.e, and landed about sixty feet below the rocks.

Clay and the other stranger reached the spot in the boat just as Ned and the lad he had so n.o.bly rescued, waded out on the beach. The latter shook the water from his clothes and hesitatingly approached Ned.

"I dunno' how to thank you for what you did," he said sheepishly. "I'm mighty sorry I hit that chap. Me and Joe were downright mad because you'uns were fis.h.i.+ng thar in our place. You see we come here from the mountains every now and then, and ketch a lot of ba.s.s, and sell 'em back at Newville. I reckon it ain't our place anyhow, an' you'uns can fish thar as much as you please. My name is Jim Batters--Batters they allus calls me--and that's my brother Joe there."

"I'm glad to know you, Batters," said Ned, holding out his hand. "You are welcome to your fis.h.i.+ng ground. We are going away to-morrow anyhow.

As for the quarrel--we'll just let that drop. You had better go up to camp now and dry your clothes."

Batters was not satisfied, however, until he had apologized all around, and made Joe do the same. Nugget had arrived by this time, and he declared that his arm no longer pained him.

Then the whole party went up the creek, some on water and some on land.

The two mountaineers were tall, lanky youths with expressionless faces, surrounded by shocks of yellow hair.

They wore homespun clothes and high boots. They were speedily on intimate terms with Jolly Rovers, and gladly accepted Ned's invitation to dinner. They asked many curious questions, and lost themselves in admiration over the canoes.

Ned told them about the nocturnal visitors of the previous night, and inquired if they had seen anything of the men. Both stoutly replied in the negative, but a swift, covert glance that pa.s.sed between them did not escape Ned's attention.

During the remainder of the day he remembered it more than once. When dinner was over they all went down to the rocks, and Batters and Joe proudly displayed their skill at fis.h.i.+ng. In two hours they caught fifteen large ba.s.s. For bait they used crabs and lizards, which they had brought from the mountains.

In the evening Randy entertained the country lads with a mouth organ performance, and at ten o'clock the visitors went to their camp on the other side of the brook.