The Outdoor Chums on the Lake Part 21

Plainly he had conceived a great fear regarding the mysterious object that had appeared in the camp, and vanished with their provisions.

Frank laughed.

"Make your mind easy, I'm not intending to follow him. We expect to go to the place where my pard vanished yesterday, and take up the trail there. I followed it a while, but night was coming on and I lost it. You may do better, Tom," he said.

"But you mentioned that hairy monster, didn't you?" queried the other, uneasily.

"I only want to examine the track he left, so as to settle in my mind whether it was really a crazy human being or a big ape. Come over here and let's see."

"Huh! none of our fellers ever thought of lookin' around. A snake-whip couldn't a-coaxed 'em over this way. Like as not they expected the varmint was lyin' in the bushes, waitin' to jump out again. But I don't pull leather when I give my word."

He threw himself prostrate on the ground. In less than three minutes an exclamation announced that he had found what he sought. Frank dropped beside him.

"There she is, and a jim-dandy of a track, too, plain as the hoof marks of a cayuse around a snubbing post!" he exclaimed, pointing.

"Just as I thought, a man's shoe, and an unusually big one. That settles one thing in my mind. It is no escaped ape that runs wild on this island. It may be a lunatic that has got away from the asylum over at Merrick, or----"

Frank did not finish his sentence, but nodded his head as though the thought that had flashed into his mind pleased him.

"That all here?" asked the other, a little nervously, although apparently relieved to learn that it was not a wild animal he had seen on the preceding night.

"Yes, I'm entirely satisfied. Now let us find the place where those Indian mounds are, and we can get on the trail without delay," answered Frank, leading the way.

It took him fully an hour to accomplish this. First they had to return to the spot at the foot of the bluff where the canoeists' camp had lately stood. Here his own trail was taken up, and Tom Somers proved to the satisfaction of the others that he did know considerable about following tracks through thickets and woods, for he led them unerringly until finally Frank saw the two mounds.

"There they are," he said, in a low voice.

Bluff pushed his gun forward menacingly.

"Where?" he demanded in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Oh! I mean the two Indian mounds, not the hoboes. Come over here and see the trail made as they went away," replied his chum, quickly.

When the boy who had spent a year on a Texas ranch punching cattle saw the marks, he announced it as his opinion that they had been made by two parties besides Jerry.

"I reckon your chum was snoozing some when they jumped his claim. He kicked and put up a right husky fight, but they was too much for him, and choked him off. I reckon one of them must a-been a boy, and the other a big man, judgin' from the marks. Then, when they had reduced him to quiet they just snaked him off."

"That's what I thought--the big brute carried Jerry on his back, for there are no signs of my chum's footprints around. Now, let's start off.

I'm anxious to know the worst, no matter what it is!" cried Frank.

Bluff brought up the rear. It was anything but light under the dense growth of trees and clinging vines. At times the tracker had to get down close to the ground in order to see what he wanted.

Bluff had slung his gun over his shoulder by the strap, and was holding Will's camera in his hands, wondering if he had not been foolish to bring such a silly thing along with him on so serious an errand.

The deeper they penetrated into the interior of the island the denser the undergrowth seemed to become, until at times it was only with the utmost difficulty they pushed their way through. Others having gone ahead of them made it a trifle easier, perhaps; at least Tom Somers said so in a whisper.

"Perhaps we're gettin' clost to the place, now, pardners; so we'd better take our time an' not hustle too much. Don't speak above a whisper, either," he said, as he parted the bushes in front.

Even as he did so Frank heard him utter a low exclamation, not of fear so much as of disgust. One look told the other what it meant, and he, too, feared that their plans would all be disarranged through an accidental meeting with a resident of the jungle, who seemed disposed to dispute their further progress.

There was the biggest wildcat Bluff had ever seen in all his life squatted on the low limb of a tree, growling angrily, and with it claws digging into the bark after the manner of a cat that is getting ready to jump, and will not be stopped!

True, Frank could easily have raised his gun and shot the ferocious creature dead in its tracks; but such an explosion must warn the enemy of their presence in the vicinity, and effectually prevent any surprise.

It looked like a serious problem, and yet it must be solved immediately unless they wanted to experience an encounter at close quarters with that fury.

"Hold up! give me a chance. Duck your heads, fellows; I'm going to flashlight the critter!" exclaimed Bluff. And even as he spoke, there was a sudden startling illumination that lit up the immediate vicinity like day.

CHAPTER XVIII--UNDER THE CABIN WALL

"So-long!" exclaimed the ex-cowboy, as he dropped to the ground.

Frank did not know just then whether Tom Somers was trying to evade an expected attack from the big cat, or had been startled and alarmed by the suspicious "click" behind him, instantly followed by that electric flash.

"He's gone!" whispered Bluff, excitedly.

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. The day had been saved by Will's inoffensive camera after all, for there was no alarm, and they had escaped an encounter with the poisonous claws of that beast of prey.

"And I bet I got a dandy picture of him, too, for Will. Say, this isn't so bad, after all. Perhaps there can be some fun hunting with a camera,"

pursued Bluff.

"Silence, Bluff. Let's lie here a bit and listen. I hope we didn't happen to be so close to their camp as to let them see that flash through the trees," whispered Frank, dropping down.

Five minutes later they once more began to creep forward. At the suggestion of Tom Somers, all of them were now on their knees, Bluff, as before, bringing up the rear.

It was very thrilling work, and Bluff found himself trembling with excitement as he trailed after his companions.

"Sure he's a peach at this sort of business, and it was a bully streak of luck when we ran across the poor wretch tied up to a tree," he was saying to himself, as he watched Tom Somers gliding along, keeping an eye on the ground, and sometimes almost poking his nose against the earth in order to solve a knotty problem.

He hoped they would run up against no more bobcats. While fortune had smiled upon them on that last occasion, perhaps the same good luck might not always be their portion; and Bluff found no desire in his heart for a tussle at close quarters with the owner of a set of claws such as these beasts sported.

Frank and the other fellow seemed to be conferring in low whispers, and hence he crept up to learn what was in the wind.

"See anything, Frank?" he asked eagerly, as he pushed in beside his chum.

"Softly, Bluff. Yes, if you look through this little opening you can see it, too."

"Why, it's a house--a sort of old cabin, more like," said Bluff, as he peeped.

"That's just what it is. Now, search your memory, both of you--do you ever recollect hearing about any one living on Wildcat Island?" asked Frank.

"Sure I do, now that you ask. There was a queer man once who used to live like a hermit here. That was years ago. They found his skeleton in his cabin. n.o.body ever knew what he died of, but it was alone, excepting for his dog, that ran wild till he was shot by a duck-shooter,"

whispered Bluff.