The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound Part 21

"Wow! but those birds do smell good!" exclaimed Sandy, as he sniffed the air. "And that oven of Tolly Tip's, in which he says he often bakes bread, seems to do the work all right. Looks to me like one of the kind you get with a blue flame kerosene stove."

"Just what it is," Paul told him. "But it works splendidly on a red coal fire, too. We're going to try some baking-powder biscuits to-morrow, Bobolink says. He's tickled over finding the oven here."

The partridges were done to a turn, and never had those hungry boys sat down to a better feast than several of their number had prepared for them that night. The old woodsman complimented Bobolink, who was the chief cook.

"I ralely thought I could cook," Tolly Tip said, "but 'tis mesilf as takes a back sate whin such a connysure is around. And biscuits is it ye mane to thry in the mornin'? I'll make it a pint to hang around long enough to take lissons, for I confiss that up till now I niver did have much success with thim things."

Again some of the scouts had to warn Bobolink that he was in jeopardy of his life if he allowed his chest to swell up, as it seemed to be doing under such compliments.

After that wonderful supper had been disposed of, Paul busied himself with his camera, for he had several things to fix before it would be ready to serve as a trap to catch the picture of Bruin in the act of stealing the honey bait.

Jud fondled his shotgun, having thoughtfully replaced the bird sh.e.l.ls with a couple of sh.e.l.ls containing buckshot that he had brought along in the hope of getting a deer.

"No telling what we may run across when trapsing through the woods with a lantern after nightfall," he explained to Phil Towns, who was watching his operation with mild interest, not being a hunter himself.

"What would you do if you came face to face with the bear, or perhaps a panther?" asked Phil. "Tolly Tip said he saw one of the big cats last winter."

"Well, now, that's hardly a fair question," laughed Jud. "I'm too modest a fellow to go around blowing my own horn; but the chances are I wouldn't _run_. And if both barrels of my gun went off the plagued beast might stand in the way of getting hurt. Figure that out if you can, Phil."

After a little while Paul arose to his feet and proceeded to light the lantern they had provided for the outing.

"I'm ready if you are, Jud," he remarked, and shortly afterwards the two left the cabin, Tolly Tip once more repeating the plain directions, so that there need be no fear that the boys would get lost in the snowy woods.

Paul was too wise a woodsman to be careless, and he took Jud directly to the spot which the bear had visited the preceding night.

"Don't see anything of the creature around, do you?" asked Jud, nervously handling his gun as he spoke.

"Not a sign as yet," replied Paul. "But the chances are he'll remember the treat he found here last night, and come trotting along before many hours. That's what Tolly Tip told me, and he ought to know."

"Strikes me a bear is a pretty simple sort of an animal after all,"

chuckled Jud. "He must think that honey rains down somehow, and never questions but that he'll find more where the first comb lay. Tell me what to do, Paul, and I'll be only too glad to help you."

The camera was presently fixed just where Paul had decided on his previous visit would be the best place. Long experience had taught the lad just how to arrange it so that the animal of which he wished to get a flashlight picture would be compelled to approach along a certain avenue.

When it attempted to take the bait the cord would be pulled, and the cartridge exploded, producing the flash required to take the picture.

"There!" he said finally, after working for at least fifteen minutes, "everything is arranged to a dot, and we can start back home. If Mr.

Bear comes nosing around here to-night, and starts to get that honeycomb, I reckon he'll hand me over something in return in the shape of a photograph."

"Here's hoping you'll get the best picture ever, Paul!" said Jud, earnestly, for he had been deeply impressed with the clever manner in which the photographer went about his duties.

They had gone almost a third of the way over the back trail when a thrilling sound came to their ears almost directly in the path they were following. Both boys came to a sudden halt, and as Jud started to raise his gun he exclaimed:

"Unless I miss my guess, Paul, that was one of the bobcats Tolly Tip told us about."

CHAPTER XXII

WAYLAID IN THE TIMBER

"Stand perfectly still, Jud," cried Paul, hastily, fearful that his impulsive companion might be tempted to do something careless.

"But if he starts to jump at us I ought to try to riddle him, Paul, don't you think?" pleaded the other, as he drew both hammers of his gun back.

Paul carried a camp hatchet, which he had made use of to fas.h.i.+on the approach to the trap. This he drew back menacingly, while gripping the lantern in his left hand.

"Of course, you can, if it comes to a fight, Jud," he answered, "but the cat may not mean to attack us after all. They're most vicious when they have young kits near by, and this isn't the time of year for that."

"Huh! Tolly Tip told me there was an unusual lot of these fellows around here this season, and mighty bold at that," Jud remarked, drily, as he searched the vicinity for some sign of a creeping form at which he could fire.

"Yes, I suppose the early coming of winter has made them extra hungry," admitted the scout-master; "though there seems to be plenty of game for them to catch in the way of rabbits, partridges and gray squirrels."

"Well, do we go on again, Paul, or are you thinking of camping here for the rest of the night?" demanded Jud, impatiently.

"Oh! we'll keep moving toward the home camp," Jud was informed. "But watch out every second of the time. That chap may be lying in a crotch of a tree, meaning to drop down on us."

A minute later, as they were moving slowly and cautiously along, Jud gave utterance to a low hiss.

"I see the rascal, Paul!" he said excitedly.

"Wait a bit, Jud," urged the other. "Don't shoot without being dead sure. A wounded bobcat is nothing to be laughed at, and we may get some beauty scratches before we can finish him. Tell me where you've glimpsed the beast."

"Look up to where I'm pointing with my gun, Paul, and you can see two yellow b.a.l.l.s s.h.i.+ning like phosphorus. Those are his eyes and if I aim right between them I'm bound to finish him."

Jud had hardly said this when there came a loud hoot, and the sound of winnowing wings reached them. At the same time the glowing, yellow spots suddenly vanished.

"Wow! what do you think of that for a fake?" growled Jud in disgust.

"It was only an old owl after all, staring down at us. But say, Paul!

that screech didn't come from him let me tell you; there's a cat around here somewhere."

As if to prove Jud spoke the truth there came just then another vicious snarl.

"Holy smoke! Paul, did you hear that?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jud, half turning.

"Comes from behind us now, and I really believe there must be a pair of the creatures stalking us on the way home!"

"They usually hunt in couples," affirmed Paul, not showing any signs of alarm, though he clutched the hatchet a little more firmly in his right hand, and turned his head quickly from side to side, as though desirous of covering all the territory possible.

"Would it pay us to move around in a half circle, and let them keep the old path?" asked Jud, who could stand for one wildcat, but drew the line at a wholesale supply.

"I don't believe it would make any difference," returned the scout-master. "If they're bent on giving us trouble any sign of weakness on our part would only encourage them."

"What shall we do then?"

"Move right along and pay attention to our business," replied Paul.

"If we find that we've got to fight, try to make sure of one cat when you fire. The second rascal we may have to tackle with hatchet and clubbed gun. Now walk ahead of me, so the light won't dazzle your eyes when I swing the lantern."