The Outdoor Chums in the Big Woods: or, Rival Hunters of Lumber Run

“That’s the getting-up gong!” they heard Mr. Darrel call. “Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes, so perhaps you’d better hurry. My men have big appetites these brisk days, and might clear off the table before you had a show.”

Of course the lumberman was only joking, for Cuba had gone to extra pains to have an abundance of food prepared. He had made fresh biscuits, and there was also oatmeal and coffee, with some fried ham and potatoes, as well as an egg apiece for the favored young guests of the “boss.”

Pretty soon the big lumberjacks started off to their daily work of chopping down trees. These would be trimmed into logs, and eventually be drawn by teams of horses to the river, where their voyage down to the sawmills or the pulp factories would begin.

The boys had never been in a lumbering region before, and numerous things interested them. Each brawny axman shouted good-by to the boys ere departing, for they were a jovial as well as a brawny lot. Frank could see how a life like this must develop any one physically.

Having received full directions from their host how to find his lonely lodge in the heart of the Big Woods, the four chums set out. Mr. Darrel would have accompanied them but for the fact that he had his hands full just then, and was expecting a new lot of employees to arrive that day.

“But a little later on you can expect a visit from me, lads,” he told them, as he squeezed each boy’s hand in a way that made them wince. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again with considerable pleasure.”

So the chums started off. Being fresh after a good night’s sleep, they did not mind the weight of their packs so much now. Later on in the day, if the tramp proved protracted, they might murmur again, particularly Bluff. He was addicted to that habit, though he really did not mean anything by it, as Frank knew from experience.

They tramped for more than an hour. Frank was always on the watch. He had been given explicit directions, which he was following closely. For a mile they had kept along the little creek, now beginning to freeze. Arriving at a spot where a spruce tree hung half-way across the bed of the stream, they had turned sharply to the left, and commenced making their way through a dense wilderness of firs.

In this way the second mile had been covered, while a third had taken them to what seemed to be quite a little hill.

“Sure we’re on the right track, are you, Frank?” asked Will, when they had left this elevation behind them nearly half an hour.

“Yes, we’re going as straight as a die,” Bluff hastened to say, before the leader could utter a word. “I know it because right ahead of us I can see that other little stream Mr. Darrel was saying we’d strike. Down that two miles and we’ll come to his cabin.”

“I only hope we find it unoccupied, that’s all,” ventured Will.

“No danger of anybody breaking in,” Frank declared. “Up here in the Maine woods there’s a queer sort of law among the natives. They are honest as the day in that way. Nobody ever thinks of locking his door at night.”

“Small game seems to be plenty enough,” Bluff went on to say. “But where are all the deer they’ve been telling us about? I’d like to run across something worth taking a crack at with my pump-gun.”

“Then there’s your chance, Bluff!” suddenly remarked Will. “Why, it looks for all the world like a gray wolf to me!”

“It must be a wolf, because Mr. Darrel said they sometimes come down here from over the Canadian border!” exclaimed Jerry.

“I’ll wolf him with that buckshot charge I’ve got ready for a deer!” muttered Bluff fiercely, as he dropped his pack and started to bring his repeating shotgun up to his shoulder.

“Hold on!” cried Frank, pulling the weapon hastily down. “Look again, Bluff, and you’ll see that’s no wolf, but a dingy dog. Yes, and we’ve seen that dog before, too!”

CHAPTER VI – THE LONE CABIN

“Here’s trouble ahead!” declared Jerry, in evident disgust; “because sure enough that’s certainly the ugly beast we saw on the train.”

“Bill Nackerson’s dog!” exclaimed Will.

Bluff was still staring. He seemed half-inclined to doubt his eyesight. Just then the dingy-looking animal gave a series of snappy barks; after which expression of defiance to the boys he turned and scampered away at a rapid pace.

“For three cents I’d knock him over,” muttered Bluff angrily.

“It would be silly for you to try it, Bluff,” Frank told him, “and only give the dog’s owner a good reason for taking the law in his own hands.”

“But, just think of it, that crowd must have got off at the next station, Frank!” declared Bluff.

“Well, they had a right to, if they felt like it, I suppose,” he was told. “Since when did the railroad company give us charge over the trains up here in Maine, that we could object to anybody leaving the cars? We did that when we felt like it.”

“Yes, but we’re going to have that bunch around here, and they’ll be our rivals in the hunting,” Bluff continued vigorously.

“If half they tell us is true,” laughed Frank, determined not to cross rivers before he came to them, “there’ll be plenty of game here for us all.”

“But when that Nackerson knows we’re here he’ll just as like as not try to make things uncomfortable for us,” Jerry broke in, showing that he felt the same way Bluff did.

“Oh! let’s hope not,” murmured Will, whose motto was peace.

“If they bother us too much we can let Mr. Darrel know about it,” Frank went on calmly.

“That’s so,” Will burst out, “and I tell you if a bunch of those husky lumberjacks got busy, they’d chase Nackerson and his cronies out of the Big Woods in a hurry, believe me!”

At the same time, while Frank tried to make light of the impending trouble, deep down in his heart he feared they were to find the Nackerson set of sporting men unpleasant neighbors.

“The only bother it can make us that I can see,” Frank told the others, “is that we’ll have to do all our roaming around in couples. There must be no solitary jaunts. With two to handle they would hesitate to attempt anything serious. Remember that always, will you, boys?”

“It’s just as well,” remarked Will, “and whoever stays in camp with me can help with my photograph work. I’m in earnest about succeeding in my particular branch on this trip; and p’raps you’d like to know the reason why.”

“We certainly would,” Frank told him; “I’ve had an idea that you were keeping something back all this while; so out with it.”

Will chuckled, and took some papers from his pocket.

“That’s a folder issued by one of the big Maine railroads,” he explained. “You see, I happened to read in a paper that they had offered some pretty nice cash prizes for the best photographs taken this season that would show what woods life up here stood for. The offer holds good up to New Year’s Day.”

“And you mean to enter – to try for the money?” demanded Bluff.

“That’s what I expect to,” was the reply. “I’ve complied with all the conditions they impose, and if I’m lucky enough to get some first-class views while in the Big Woods, I mean to submit them in competition. It may be keen, and I’ll stand little show, but nothing venture nothing win.”

Bluff knew what splendid work Will had been doing in the line of sport he had taken as his especial hobby.

“Now, excuse me for differing with you there,” he said, “but I’d like to say right here that if you go in for those prizes they’re sure to drop into your hand like ripe plums. You know how to get results better’n any amateur photographer I ever ran across.”

They were once more pushing forward while discussing this latest matter. For the time being every one seemed to have quite forgotten the unpleasant feeling conjured up by the sudden appearance of the dog.

It was near the middle of the day when, after following the stream in its meanderings for quite two miles, Frank pointed out to them the object of their search.

“There’s the little cabin, sure enough,” said Bluff, his voice full of pleasure, “and let me tell you it looks all that Mr. Darrel cracked it up to be.”

“For my part I think we ought to be as comfortable as four bugs in a rug in such a cozy hut,” Will told them, happy in the thought that he could now drop that heavy pack, and before long start to taking some of the beautiful scenes of the snowy woods.

There was only an inch or so of the white covering on the ground, but it gave the landscape a wintry appearance. They had really had more of a fall in their far distant home town, Frank remembered, thinking of the snowball battle, and the broken window.

A few minutes later they were inside the cabin. Every boy expressed himself as delighted with the prospects. There was a huge fireplace, and just four bunks ranged around the interior, with a rude table, and a number of home-made rustic chairs.

It did not take them long to begin to make things seem homelike, once they had their packs open. The cheery sound of the ax at work told that a fire would soon add to the charm of that interior. Then would follow the delightful odors of cooking, with each boy taking his turn.

By the time the afternoon was well along they had managed to stow everything in the place where it was intended to be found. Their well-beloved blankets, that had accompanied them on numerous outings, were settled each in the particular bunk its owner had chosen.

“Now that I’ve hung our cooking things up on these nails alongside the fireplace there’s a cheery look about the place I like,” Will announced, with considerable pride in his voice.

“And that pile of firewood outside the door, cut by all of us in turn, stands for solid comfort in my eyes,” Jerry remarked, as he ruefully surveyed the first row of blisters on palms unused to such hard work.

“With plenty of game to be had,” announced Bluff, patting his favorite gun, “we ought to be as happy as the day is long – only for that tough crowd being somewhere close by.”

“Frank,” remarked Will, “have you any idea how far away they are camping?”

“Well, that would be a hard question to answer,” replied the other, smiling, “only for the fact that our friend, Mr. Darrel, happened to mention a little thing I expect might have a bearing on what you want to know.”

“But he couldn’t know anything about that Nackerson crowd?” objected Jerry.

“I don’t suppose he did,” Frank informed him, “but in telling me how to get over to his little lodge he mentioned another log cabin that lay in the woods on the way here. He said it was an old one that some trappers had used long ago. The roof was bad, but might be repaired. Sometimes hunters stopped there a night or two when passing through.”

“Then that must be where those men are putting up,” said Will. “Let’s hope two nights will be their limit, and that none of us run across them when off in the big timber.”

“Forget about such an unpleasant subject,” advised Frank. “Everything looks bright and promising around us, so what’s the use bothering with trouble that may never happen?”

He changed the subject, and soon the others had apparently forgotten all about the near presence of Bill Nackerson and his evil companions.

Supper that evening was a meal not soon to be forgotten. The boys all had a hand in its preparation. Soon they meant to adopt a system that would give each one his regular turn at this important duty.

And then afterward, how jolly it was to make themselves comfortable before a roaring fire, and talk of home, or the many interesting things that had happened to them on past outings.

Later on all were snuggled down under their blankets in their bunks. The fire burned low, and would perhaps go out entirely before dawn came.

The last thing Bluff remembered hearing was the far-off hooting of some owl that braved the winter’s cold. It seemed to soothe him, for, listening, and occasionally hearing the cheery cackle of the fire, Bluff lost himself in sleep.

CHAPTER VII – OUT FOR GAME

They had a peaceful night, with one exception. Along in the small hours Bluff was heard to give a sudden wild whoop:

“Get out, you cowardly beast!” he cried at the top of his voice. Of course there was considerable excitement.

Frank had been wise enough to bring a little vest-pocket type of electric torch with him, knowing how valuable such a contrivance may be at times. He instantly switched on the light; and, as he picked up his gun with one hand, he managed to turn the white glow upon the bunk occupied by Bluff.

The latter had apparently subsided, for no more shouts rang out. Frank discovered him lying there rubbing his eyes. He looked as though hardly knowing whether to burst out laughing or appear ashamed of having startled the others so.

“What’s all this row mean, Bluff?” demanded Frank sternly.

“Shucks! I guess I must have been dreaming, that’s all,” he was told.

“What nipped you? Because you acted as if it hurt,” Jerry asked.

“Why, you see,” explained Bluff, “I had come across that big Bill Nackerson, while roamin’ through the woods, and he managed to sneak my gun away when I wasn’t looking. Then what did he do but sic that mangy cur of his on me. I was kickin’ like everything at him. See how I sent my blanket out on the floor. All I wanted was one sound smack at his ugly jaws. I’m sorry I woke up so soon, because next time I’d have fetched him.”

“Well, go to sleep again, and let’s hope you dream of other things besides scrapping,” advised Jerry, as he proceeded to once more deposit his gun in a corner, and crawl under his blanket.

Bluff must have taken the advice to heart; at any rate his voice was not heard again until Frank pounded on the frying-pan to let the sleepers know it was time to creep out. Then each one in turn wanted to learn whether breakfast was ready.

As they ate they began to lay out plans for the day.

“Of course Bluff and Frank must try to get us some venison,” Will said; “and that’ll leave Jerry to assist me in camp. Besides, I want to find places to fix up my flashlight for the next night. If I can get a picture of some animal, taken by himself, it’ll please me a heap. What you know about the habits of these little creatures will help me out lots, Jerry.”

“I may be able to give a little advice, too, Will,” the latter remarked, as he helped himself to another flapjack; “because, you know, I went out with that gentleman who was stopping at our house late this fall. He had the flashlight habit about as bad as any one I’ve ever met.”

“Oh! you did mention it to me once, I remember,” said the other, evidently much pleased. “Then you may have picked up a few little wrinkles that will help me out in my game.”

“Leave that to me,” replied Jerry, swelling with importance. “I can put you wise to heaps of things. You see, I like to ask questions, and Mr. Mallon always gave me the straight answer.”

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