Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the Great North Woods Part 11

"Had we better not get him under his tent?" asked Grace.

"If there is a tent left, yes. You folks will remain right here until I return. I am going over to the camp," replied Tom.

"Is there danger?" questioned Grace anxiously.

"I think not. I shall not be gone more than a few minutes."

Tom took his pocket lamp with him, leaving the Overlanders in the dark, for their own lamps were in their packs in the tents. Tom, however, came back inside of fifteen minutes.

"How is the camp?" asked Elfreda.

"There isn't any camp," answered Tom.

"Wha--at?" gasped the Overlanders.

"It hit me and went on into the river," groaned Hippy. "Voice of nature," he added in a mutter, but no one laughed.

"Our camp was pitched in the travoy way. The storm loosened the supports of the skidway and let the logs down. Several hundred thousand feet of them rolled over our camp and mashed it flat. A good part of the timber went on into the river. The rest of it is scattered all the way along the travoy."

"What! All our provisions gone?" wailed Hippy.

"No. They were strung up high enough to be out of the way," spoke up Grace.

"You are wrong, Grace," differed Tom. "A log must have ended up and broken the rope. At least the rope is broken and most of our supplies appear to have been carried away. We are now back to first principles.

We must either go back for fresh supplies or live as the forest wanderer lives, rustling for our grub as we go along. The first thing to be done is to build a fire."

"Fine! I should like to see you do that with everything soaking wet,"

laughed Elfreda.

"We shall see," replied Tom. "What we need first of all is light so we may see what we are about."

After searching about, Tom found an old uptilted log which he proposed to use as a "backlog" for a fire. He next roamed about with his lamp, hunting for a dead pine tree leaning to the south. He explained that the wood and bark on the under side of such a tree would be reasonably dry and would make excellent fuel. He found one that had been s.h.i.+vered by lightning, and from the south side of this he chopped off bark and chips. The girls carried these to the fallen uptilted tree.

In the meantime, the guide had searched for and found several pine knots. From these Tom whittled shavings from their less resinous ends, leaving the shavings on the sticks. He set these knots up like a tripod under the fallen tree, small ends down and the shavings touching.

"We will now strike a match and you shall see whether or not we know how to build a fire under present conditions. Grace, how do you think you would strike a match with nothing dry to strike it on?" he teased.

"I do not believe I should strike it," answered Grace.

"Hold your hat over me," he directed, getting down on his knees. Tom placed the head of the match between his teeth and jerked the match forward through the teeth, cupped the match in his hands until the flame of the match ran up its stick, whereupon he applied it to the shavings.

The pine knots flickered, then flamed up, snapping and shooting out little streamers of reddish fire. Bark and splinters from the leaning tree were placed about the knots, and in a few moments they had a cheerful fire.

"Cut two saplings and spread the blanket for a backing," said Tom, nodding to the guide.

Joe sharpened one end of each sapling and forced them into the ground back of the log, and on the saplings she stretched one of the wet blankets.

"Girls, in all our campaigning we haven't learned much, have we?"

demanded Anne. "Had it not been for Tom we should have sat all night in misery and wetness. I think we are going to learn something on this journey."

"It strikes me that we have already learned a few things," observed Miss Briggs.

Lieutenant Wingate recovered rapidly, and when able he began searching about to discover what had hit him but could find nothing.

The clothing of the party under the influence of that red-hot fire soon dried out, and the spirits of the Overland Riders rose in proportion.

Acting upon Elfreda's suggestion that they make an effort to salvage their supplies, Tom and Hippy prepared pitchpine torches, and all hands repaired to the scene of their late camping place.

"Look! Oh, look!" cried Emma, as they came within sight of it. Not a vestige of the camp was left. Logs lay about everywhere, some almost standing on end. Young trees were broken off short, bushes laid flat as if a tornado had swept over the scene, and here and there the trunks of giant trees were scarred where the bark had been torn off by logs coming in contact with them.

"Think what might have happened to us had we not got out in time,"

murmured Anne.

"We should have been mashed flat," agreed Emma. "How terrible!"

"That is what comes from listening to the voice of nature," chuckled Hippy.

"Here are some of our provisions," called Grace, who had been clambering over the logs, peering under them and feeling about among the pine cones. She uncovered a dozen or so cans of food, all dented, some mashed out flat, and while she was doing this Elfreda discovered some badly battered mess kits.

Hippy salvaged a chunk of bacon on the river bank, and others found widely scattered remnants of their supplies, including some that had been swept into the river which had not floated away.

"This will keep us going until we can replenish our larder," finally announced Grace. "After daybreak we shall undoubtedly find more of our belongings. The tents, however, seem to have been destroyed. I found a few pieces of canvas, but that was all. I am glad we saved our blankets."

"By the way, Mrs. Shafto, where is Henry?" asked Nora.

"Henry!" cried Joe.

"If Henry is wise he will be found up a tree," chuckled Hippy.

"Henry! Henre-e-e-e-e!" called the forest woman. "Oh, Henre-e-e-e-e-e!

Here, Hen, Hen, Hen, Hen! Come here, I tell ye! Hen, Hen, Hen, Hen, Hen!"

"Crow! Maybe that will fetch Hen," suggested Hippy, and the Overland girls shouted.

"Don't ye make fun of me!" raged the forest woman, striding over to Hippy and shaking a belligerent fist before his face. "I give ye notice that Joe Shafto kin take care of herself and her bear, and she don't need no advice from a greenhorn like yerself." Hippy backed away, the woman following him and still shaking her fist, and the more the girls laughed the angrier did Joe get.

"That's all right, old dear. Don't get excited," begged Hippy, trying to soothe the irate woman.

"What? Old dear! Don't ye call me old dear. I ain't yer old dear nor yer young dear. Ain't ye ashamed of yerself to speak to yer betters that way, and 'specially to a woman of my years? I'll larn ye to be civil and to mind yer own business!" Joe gave the embarra.s.sed Hippy a sound box on one ear, then on the other. "Take that, and that," she cried. "Next time I'll use the club on ye!"

Each blow jolted Hippy's head.

"Mrs. Shafto! Please, please! We can't have any such actions in this outfit," rebuked Grace. "Lieutenant Wingate did not mean to offend you, and you must learn to be a good fellow and take as well as give if you are going to stay with this outfit. If you think you cannot, now is the time to say so."

"Do ye want me to git out?" demanded Joe, glaring at Grace.

"Indeed we do not. We wish you to remain, to be a good fellow, to share in our pleasures and take the unpleasant features in the spirit of the Overland Riders. Do you think you can do this?" Grace smiled as she said it.

"I reckon yer right, Miss Gray," decided the forest woman after a moment's pondering and glaring through her spectacles at Grace.