Chums of the Camp Fire Part 20

"What, me, and with only my p-p-pajamas on?" cried Toby; "I'd like to s-s-see myself adoin' that. Seems to me the b-b-best way would be to dig a trench, and then shoo the old p-p-porker out."

"That's what we'll do," Max announced. "It would seem that the monkey is too smart to step into a trap built like this, so we wouldn't have any further need of the pit. Let's get some clothes on first, so we won't take cold, and then everybody dig."

It was a duty they could not s.h.i.+rk, and before long they had managed to knock away part of the wall of the pit, so that an ordinary hog might manage to scramble up the incline from the depths.

Then they all gathered on the other side, and "shooed," and waved their arms as well as the lantern. The prisoner of the pit, alarmed no doubt for his safety, and seeing an opening for escape, started to climb, with such success that presently he reached level ground, gave a satisfied grunt, and then trotted off into the neighboring woods.

The four boys were laughing among themselves as they once more went back to the warmth of their blankets.

"Another dream shattered," said Steve, "and count me out after this when it comes to hatching up dark schemes against that poor ape. Some of the rest of you can try your hands if you want; but ten to one we'll have to get down to hard gravel in the end, and use that wild-animal-catcher stunt with the doped stuff. To tell you the truth I'm sort of hoping we will, because I'd like to see how it works."

"M-m-me too, Steve!" exclaimed Toby; "and I only h-h-hope Max say's the word after we've tried a few more games, and find they don't w-w-work any."

"I'll fix the limit for another night," said Max, "and then if we haven't been successful in trapping the monkey I'll agree to try Mr. Jenks'

plan."

With that all of the others declared they would rest content, though it seemed as though Bandy-legs, as well as Steve and Toby, was willing to proceed to extremes as soon as possible, only Max objecting to the plan as hardly fair to the monkey.

Another day pa.s.sed, and they amused themselves in various ways, taking pictures, fis.h.i.+ng for pickerel in the big pond with fair success, and making arrangements for trying out another idea that night, in hopes of capturing the smart monkey.

This consisted of a trap fas.h.i.+oned somewhat on the order of the turkey cage mentioned by Toby. It was built of stout canes, carried all the way from the pond, and with the corner joints spliced with cord. Then a descending roadway was carefully dug out, and brought up inside the cage. A trigger was arranged, to be sprung should the monkey, in following the roadway, enter the cage, and which would release a little door that, falling into place, would shut the opening, and at the same time ring a bell Toby had fixed close to where his head would be as he slept.

Altogether it was quite an ingenious contraption; but all the same there was no bell ringing during _that_ night: And yet when Toby went out next morning to examine his disappointing contrivance he reported that the monkey had actually been there, and eaten up all the nut meat, even going inside the trap, and never setting the trigger off.

Sure enough they did find his tracks in the roadway as far as the trap, but no further, which told them the animal was too smart to be caught by such a flimsy device.

Toby insisted on it that he had gone inside, because the bait had all vanished; but Max, having lifted the cage aside, showed that there was not a sign of the monkey's footprints there. On the other hand he told them the inside bait had plainly been devoured by little mice, for he showed them innumerable tracks made by their dainty feet.

So Toby declared that he was done.

"He's too cute for m-m-me, fellers, I admit," he said; "though if it wasn't for that fetching bait left by Mr. Jenks I'd k-k-keep on tryin'

till I didn't know my own name. But now, Max, l-l-let 's g-g-get busy in earnest."

As he had promised them, Max would not draw back. The balance of the nut meat and some of the dried bread he put in a pannikin, and poured a portion of the contents of the bottle over the mess, until the liquid was soaked up.

This was done at a certain spot where they believed the monkey was most apt to show himself. Then the boys went away, one of them remaining on sentry duty at some little distance off, so as to give the signal should Link make his appearance.

The whole morning pa.s.sed without the monkey showing up. Lunch had been served, and the one on duty relieved, so that he could take his turn at the rude table they had constructed near the tent.

Bandy-legs was the sentinel now, and would remain on post until about the middle of the afternoon, unless something happened to break the dreadful monotony.

It did.

About two o'clock Bandy-legs came running in, all out of breath, with the exciting news that the monkey had appeared, just as they hoped, and was even then busily engaged in disposing of the doped food as greedily as anything.

So they all trooped out to witness the strange sight. Toby carried along the chain and collar and padlock left in his charge by the showman; for he kept hoping that the time had now come when he might find a good use for the same.

True enough, they discovered the big monkey busily at work. His liking for strong drink was apt to prove his undoing, even as it has that of countless millions of the human race. Watching him eating like a starving thing, the boys exchanged many humorous remarks.

By the time Link had appeased his appet.i.te he could hardly stand up straight, and Max declared there was now no longer any reason why they should not surround and capture him.

It was almost too easy after all. The stupid beast made no attempt to flee, for he staggered whenever he tried to move. He also seemed to understand his condition, for at their approach he held out one hand toward them pitifully, as though seeking their a.s.sistance to guide his faltering footsteps.

And so the exulting Toby quickly fixed that collar around his neck, snapped the little-padlock shut, and gripping the chain led the way to camp, followed by the others, with Steve holding one of the poor monkey's hands, and Max the other.

That was the story of Link's downfall and capture. The evening following he sat there, secured to a tree, and holding his head between his hands as though it ached terribly, and blinked at the boys whenever they approached; but with not even a whimper of complaint, just a little moan at times.

In the morning the monkey seemed to be all right again, and full of comical antics. And after that Toby spent about all his time hovering around the place where Link was chained, talking to him, coaxing him to show off by tempting pieces of food, and enjoying himself more than words could tell.

Their vacation was drawing to a close, and while they had not met with any really thrilling adventures, still the four chums were a unit in declaring that they had never had a better time.

A deep mystery had been solved, and they had caught the monkey which was to net them such a dazzling reward. Max had become reconciled to the means employed, as it was all for the beast's own good; and Link himself, apparently had forgotten that there was such a thing as freedom.

When the time came for them to break camp, they took down the khaki-colored tent with the customary sad rites, chanting in unison the chorus of "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground."

They were a merry lot as they started the old horse homeward, and with the captive monkey in their midst to keep them company. They had to maintain a watch on Link, for he was apt to pinch them, s.n.a.t.c.h anything he could see, from a watch to a lead pencil, and was as full of his pranks "as an egg is of meat," as Steve said.

When they arrived home Max hastened to wire Mr. Jenks of their success, and on the very next train the delighted circus man appeared in Carson, to claim the valuable runaway, and gladly turned over the two hundred dollars to the chums.

What that represented to Max and his three mates in paying the expenses of the next great outing they planned will be told in the next story of this series, to be called "Afloat on the Flood."

Until we meet again in the pages of that volume we will have to bid the boys of Carson good-bye for a short time, shake hands with the reader, and turn down the light.

[Transcriber's Note: For short books such as "Chums of the Campfire,"

it was common for the publisher to add additional material.

"Mortimer Halleck's Adventure" was chosen to accompany the main text in this edition.]

V.

MORTIMER HALLECK'S ADVENTURE.

Among the many adventurous incidents of our frontier life in northwest Iowa, fifteen years ago, I recall one that befell a boy neighbor, Mortimer Halleck, in which his recklessness came very near causing his death.

There were five of us boys, who formed a little company of tried friends and pledged comrades. We hunted, trapped, boated, went skating and swimming together, and, when the first frame school-house was built, we occupied the two back seats, on the boys' side.

In our hunts after deer, wolves, badgers, and feathered game, we found an exhilaration such as I never again expect to experience in the tamer pursuits of life. We even felt an exultant joy in the fierce buffeting of the winter blizzards which annually descended upon us from the plateaus of Dakota.

During the regular season of bird migration, the resounding _golunk_, _golunk_, of the wild goose, the shrill _klil-la-la_ of the swift and wary brant, the affectionate _qu-a-a-rr-k_, _quack_ of the Mallard drake and his mate, with the strange, inimitable cry of the whooping crane, combined to form a sylvan orchestra, the music of which thrilled us with more pleasurable sensations than were ever awakened by the household organ or the town bra.s.s band of later years.

In the early spring, during the alternate slush, mud and freeze of the first thaws, there always occurred a short vacation from school and work, in which we gathered a harvest of fun, fur and feathers.

At this season, the low, flat valleys of the Little Sioux and the Ocheyedan rivers were covered six or eight feet deep by the annual overflow; and torrents of yellow snow-water, the melting of tremendous drifts, rushed down creeks and ravines.