The Boy Scouts Patrol Part 8

"But what do you do when that is gone?" asked Pepper.

"Oh, that's a different story," laughed the colonel. "We'll come to that later."

"Now," began the colonel, when they had finished their meal, unanimously voting it the best dinner they had ever eaten, "I know you all have been wondering how I happened to be here when you came along."

"Yes, sir," admitted Jack, "we were talking about you just before we came ash.o.r.e."

"Speaking of angels, I see," said the colonel. "The fact is, boys, I've got a little shack down here in the woods and whenever I get tired of town I come out here and get a breath of the woods, and I was out here to-day."

"That was lucky for us," interjected Donald.

"Is that your house above here?" asked Rand, "the one covered with bark. We saw it as we came along. Pepper was sure an outlaw lived there."

"And you weren't so far out of the way at that, were you, Pepper?"

answered the colonel. "How would you like to take a look at it?"

"'Twould be most interesting," said Donald.

"Come along then. I see the enemy were out in force," he added when they had gone part of the way.

"How was that?" asked Rand.

"Monkey Rae," replied the colonel. "There were a number of them."

"Of Monkey Raes?" cried Rand. "Gee! I hope not."

"I mean," laughed the colonel, "there were more with him."

"Yes," said Rand, "he and Sam Hopkins and Red Burns are always together."

"Who was the man with them?" went on the colonel.

"Was there a man with them?" asked Jack. "I wonder who he could have been?"

"A man who walked with a limp," continued the colonel.

"Man with a limp," mused Jack. "What was he like, did you see him?"

"No," replied the colonel. "I only see his track. They came along this way."

"Where do you see that?" asked Rand.

"Here is the trail," replied the colonel, pointing it out as he spoke. "Here is the print of a foot on the dirt and here is another.

Here is a bigger and a heavier one; a man made those. You can see one of them is deeper than the other, showing more weight on that side."

"But, how can you see all that?" questioned Pepper. "You have hardly looked at them, and I couldn't see them at all until you pointed them out."

"Practice and observation," answered the colonel. "That trail is as plain as day. There wasn't any attempt to hide it. Why, out on the plains a scout would follow it at a gallop. See how far you can track it."

"'Twill no be far, in my opinion," confessed Donald. "'Tis no over plain."

But with much care and patience the boys were able to follow the track for a considerable distance, losing it every now and then and picking it up again, Rand being the quickest and Donald the most persistent; ail of them getting a little more expert as they went on.

"Where does it go now?" asked Jack after a while, when they had lost it and were unable to pick it up again.

"That's doing very well for a beginning," commended the colonel.

"They went off here, I think to avoid the house, and we are almost there."

A short walk brought them to the shack, which was set in a little clearing in the woods. It was one-story high and about sixteen feet square, with a small kitchen in the back. It was provided with two doors, numerous windows, and had a small porch in front. It was ceiled inside and scantily furnished with a few chairs, a couple of tables and a couch, but the walls were ornamented with the heads of deer and elk, as well as the skins of smaller animals, and the floor was covered with bear and panther skins. Over the big fireplace hung a shotgun with a couple of rifles, and several Indian bows stood in one corner.

CHAPTER VIII

TALKING IT OVER

"I thought you didn't use a stove," remarked Jack, opening his eyes in astonishment at the sight of the colonel's well-appointed kitchen.

"Why not?" asked the colonel, smiling at Jack's surprise. "I don't sleep on the ground from choice, when I have a comfortable bed."

"But, you said--" continued Jack.

"This is a permanent headquarters," the colonel went on. "When I go on a march I don't carry all these things with me. What we don't have we get along without, as part of the day's task."

"That's a grand pair of horns on that elk's head," admired Rand, who was looking at the trophies of the chase that hung on the walls.

"Isn't there a story that goes with that?"

"Not much of a story," replied the colonel. "It was killed on a trip I made up in the Canadian Northwest, and it was a narrow escape for me, too. It was killed by an arrow from one of those bows there."

"An arrow!" exclaimed Rand. "I didn't know that an elk could be killed with an arrow."

"An arrow is as deadly as a bullet at short range," replied the colonel. "You have read of the English archers and their famous long-bows, haven't you?"

"And Robin Hood," put in Pepper.

"Robin Hood, of course," continued the colonel. "The Indians were dangerous foes, too, even when they had nothing but their bows and arrows."

"I wonder if I could learn to shoot with one of them," mused Rand, drawing back one of the bows, a feat that required all of his strength. "Say, boys, I've got an idea."

"Hold fast to it," counseled Donald. "You may no get another."

"Let's organize an Indian patrol, and we can carry bows and arrows."

"It might be worth thinking about," admitted Donald.

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about, colonel," said Jack, "but I am afraid it's too late to take the matter up to-day."