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Two Little Savages Part 59

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Sam studied it carefully and wrote Forty feet. Wes put down Forty-five.

"Here, I want to be in this. I'll show you fellers how," exclaimed Guy in his usual scornful manner, and wrote down Fifty feet.

"Let's all try it for scalps," said Char-less, but this was ruled too unimportant for scalps, and again the penalty of failure was dishwas.h.i.+ng, so the other boys came and put down their guesses close to that of their Chief--Forty-four, Forty-six and Forty-nine feet.

"Now we'll find out exactly," and Little Beaver, with an air of calm superiority, took three straight poles of exactly the same length and pegged them together in a triangle, leaving the pegs sticking up. He placed this triangle on the bank at _A B C_, sighting the line _A B_ for the little Hemlock _D_, and put three pegs in the ground exactly under the three pegs where the triangle was; moved the triangle to _E F G_ and placed it so that _F G_ should line with _A C_ and _E G_ with _D_. Now _A G D_ also must be an equilateral triangle; therefore, according to arithmetic, the line _D H_ must be seven-eighths of _A G. A G_ was easily measured--70 feet. Seven-eighths of 70 equals 61-1/4 feet. The width of the pond--they measured it with tape line--was found to be 60 feet, so Yan was nearest, but Guy claimed that 50 feet was within 10 feet of it, which was allowed. Thus there were two winners--two who escaped dishwas.h.i.+ng; and Hawkeye's bragging became insufferable. He never again got so close in a guess, but no number of failures could daunt him after such a success.

Sam was interested in the White-man's Woodcraft chiefly on Yan's account, but Blackhawk was evidently impressed with the study itself, and said:



"Little Beaver, I'll give you one more to do. Can you measure how far apart those two trees are on that bank, without crossing?"

"Yes," said Yan; "easily." So he cut three poles 6, 8 and 10 feet long and pegged them together in a triangle (in diagram). "Now," said he, "_A B C_ is a right angle; it must be, when the legs of the triangle are 6, 8 and 10; that's a law."

He placed this on the sh.o.r.e, the side _A B_ pointing to the inner side of the first tree, and the side _B C_ as nearly as possible parallel with the line between the two trees. Then he put in a stake at _B_, another at _C_, and continued this line toward _K_. Now he slid his triangle along this till the side _G F_ pointed to _E_, and the side _H G_ in line with _C B_. The distance from _D_ to _E_, of course, is equal to _B G_, which can be measured, and again the tape line showed Yan to be nearly right.

This White-man's Woodcraft was easy for him, and he volunteered to teach the other Indians, but they thought it looked "too much like school." They voted him a _coup_ on finding how well he could do it. But when Raften heard of it he exclaimed in wonder and admiration, "My, but that's mightiful!" and would not be satisfied till the _coup_ was made a _grand coup_.

"Say, Beaver," said Woodp.e.c.k.e.r sadly, harking back, "if a Dog's front foot is 3-1/2 inches long and 3 inches wide, what colour is the end of his tail?"

"White," was the prompt reply; "'cause a Dog with feet that size and shape is most likely to be a yaller Dog, and a yaller Dog always has some white hairs in the end of his tail."

"Well, this 'un hadn't, 'cause his tail was cut off in the days of his youth!"

XXIX

The Long Swamp

The union of the tribes, however, was far from complete. Blackhawk was inclined to be turbulent. He was heavier than Beaver. He could not understand how that slighter, younger boy could throw him, and he wished to try again. Now Yan was growing stronger every day. He was quick and of very wiry build. In the first battle, which was entirely fisty, he was worsted; on the try-over, which cost him such an effort, he had arranged "a rough-and-tumble," as they called it, and had won chiefly by working his only trick. But now Blackhawk was not satisfied, and while he did not care to offer another deadly challenge, by way of a feeler he offered, some days after the peace, to try a friendly throw for scalps.

"Fists left out!" Just what Beaver wanted, and the biggest boy was sent flying. "If any other Boiler would like to try I'd be pleased to oblige him," said Yan, just a little puffed up, as he held up the second scalp he had won from Blackhawk.

Much to his surprise, Bluejay, the city boy, accepted, and he was still more surprised when the city boy sent _him_ down in the dust.

"Best out of three!" shouted Woodp.e.c.k.e.r quickly, in the interest of his friend, taking advantage of an unwritten law that when it is not stated to be in one try, usually called "sudden death," it is "best two out of three" that counts.

Yan knew now that he had found a worthy foe. He dodged, waiting for an opening--gripped--locked--and had him on the hip, he thought, but the city boy squirmed in time, yielding instead of resisting, and both went down tight-gripped. For a minute it was doubtful.

"Go it, Yan."

"Give it to him, Bluejay."

But Yan quickly threw out one leg, got a little purchase, and turned the city boy on his back.

"Hooray for Little Beaver!"

"One try more! So far even!" cried Blackhawk.

They closed again, but Yan was more than ever careful. The city boy was puffing hard. The real trial was over and Cy went down quite easily.

"Three cheers for Little Beaver!" A fourth scalp was added to his collection, and Sam patted him on the back, while Bluejay got out a pocket mirror and comb and put his hair straight.

But this did not help out in the matter of leaders.h.i.+p, and when the Medicine Man heard of the continued deadlock he said:

"Boys, you know when there is a doubt about who is to lead the only way is for all Chiefs to resign and have a new election." The boys acted on this suggestion but found another deadlock. Little Beaver refused to be put up. Woodp.e.c.k.e.r got three votes, Blackhawk four, and Guy one (his own), and the Sangers refused to stand by the decision.

"Let's wait till after the 'hard trip'--that will show who is the real Chief--then have a new election," suggested Little Beaver, with an eye to Woodp.e.c.k.e.r's interest, for this hard trip was one that had been promised them by Caleb--a three-days' expedition in the Long Swamp.

This swamp was a wild tract, ten miles by thirty, that lay a dozen miles north of Sanger. It was swampy only in parts, but the dry places were mere rocky ridges, like islands in the bogs. The land on these was worthless and the timber had been ruined by fire, so Long Swamp continued an uninhabited wilderness.

There was said to be a few Deer on the hardwood ridges. Bears and Lynx were occasionally seen, and Wolves had been heard in recent winters.

Of course there were Foxes, Grouse and Northern Hare. The streams were more or less choked with logs, but were known to harbour a few Beavers and an occasional Otter. There were no roads for summer use, only long, dim openings across the bogs, known as winter trails and timber roads. This was the region that the boys proposed to visit under Caleb's guidance.

Thus at last they were really going on an "Indian trip"--to explore the great unknown, with every probability of adventure.

At dawn Yan tapped the tom-tom. It sang a high and vibrant note, in guarantee of a sunny day.

They left camp at seven in the morning, and after three hours' tramp they got to the first part of the wilderness, a great tract of rocky land, disfigured with blackened trees and stumps, but green in places with groves of young Poplars or quaking Aspen.

The Indians were very ready to camp now, but the Medicine Man said, "No; better keep on till we find water." In another mile they reached the first stretch of level Tamarack bog and a welcome halt for lunch was called. "Camp!" shouted the leader, and the Indians ran each to do his part. Sam got wood for the fire and Blackhawk went to seek water, and with him was Blue jay, conspicuous in a high linen collar and broad cuffs, for Caleb unfortunately had admitted that he once saw an Indian Chief in high hat and stand-up collar.

Beaver was just a little disappointed to see the Medicine Man light the fire with a match. He wanted it all in truly Indian style, but the Trapper remarked, "Jest as well to have some tinder and a thong along when you're in the woods, but matches is handier than rubbing-sticks."

Blackhawk and Bluejay returned with two pails of dirty, tepid, swampy water.

"Why, that's all there is!" was their defense.

"Yan, you go and show them how to get good water," said Caleb, so the Second Sanger Chief, remembering his training, took the axe and quickly made a wooden digger, then went to the edge of the swamp, and on the land twenty feet from the bog he began to dig a hole in the sandy loam. He made it two feet across and sunk it down three feet.

The roily water kept oozing in all around, and Bluejay was scornful.

"Well, I'd rather have what we got." Beaver dug on till there was a foot of dirty water in the hole. Then he took a pail and bailed it all out as fast as possible, left it to fill, bailed it out a second time, and ten minutes later cautiously dipped out with a cup a full pail of crystal-clear cold water, and thus the Boilers learned how to make an Indian well and get clear water out of a dirty puddle.

After their simple meal of tea, bread and meat Caleb told his plan.

"You never get the same good of a trip if you jest wander off; better have a plan--something to do; and do it without a guide if ye want adventures. Now eight is too many to travel together; you'd scare everything with racket and never see a livin' thing. Better divide in parties. I'll stay in camp and get things ready for the night."

Thus the leaders, Sam and Yan, soon found themselves paired with Guy and Peetweet. Wes felt bound to take care of his little cousin Char-less.

Bluejay, finding himself the odd man, decided to stay with Caleb, especially as the swamp evidently was without proper footpaths.

"Now," said Caleb, "northwest of here there is a river called the Beaver, that runs into Black River. I want one of you to locate that.

It's thirty or forty feet wide and easy to know, for it's the only big stream in the swamp. Right north there is an open stretch of plain, with a little spring creek, where there's a band of Injuns camped.

Somewhere northeast they say there's a tract of Pine bush not burned off, and there is some Deer there. None of the places is ten miles away except, maybe, the Injuns' camp. I want ye to go scoutin' and report. You kin draw straws to say who goes where."

So the straws were marked and drawn. Yan drew the timber hunt. He would rather have had the one after the Indians. Sam had to seek the river, and Wesley the Indian camp. Caleb gave each of them a few matches and this parting word:

"I'll stay here till you come back. I'll keep up a fire, and toward sundown I'll make a smoke with rotten wood and gra.s.s so you kin find your way back. Remember, steer by the sun; keep your main lines of travel; don't try to remember trees and mudholes; and if you get lost, you make _two smokes_ well apart and stay right there and holler every once in awhile; some one will be sure to come."

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