The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island or Marooned Among the Game-fish Poachers

"Will you do me a favor, Bumpus?"

"Sure I will, Giraffe; what is it you want now?"

"Then tell me who that is talking to our scoutmaster, Dr. Philander Hobbs; because, you know, I've just come in after a scout ahead, and first thing saw was a stranger among the patrol boys."

"Oh! You mean that thin chap who came along in his buggy a bit ago, chasing after us all the way from that town where we had a bite of lunch? Why, I understand he's the son of the telegraph operator there. You know we made arrangements with him to try and get a message to us, if one came along."

"Whew! then I hope he ain't fetched a message that'll spoil all our fun, just when we've got to the last leg of the journey, with the boat only a few miles further on! That'd be the limit Bumpus. You don't know anything about it, I reckon?"

"Well, our scout-master looks kinder down in the mouth, and I'm afraid it must be some sort of a recall to duty for him," remarked a third lad, also wearing the khaki garments of a Boy Scout, as he joined the pair who were talking.

"I'm afraid you're right, Davy," said the tall, angular fellow who seemed to own the queer name of Giraffe, though his long neck plainly proved why it had been given to him by his mates. "But don't it beat the Dutch how many times Doe Hobbs has had to give up a jolly trip, and hurry back home, just when the fun was going to begin, because the old doctor he works with needed him the worst kind?"

"But say," spoke up the fat boy who answered to the designation of Bumpus, "mebbe the Cranford Troop, and the Silver Fox Patrol in particular, ain't lucky to have such a wide-awake, efficient assistant scout-master as our Thad Brewster, who knows more in a day about out-of-door things than Dr. Hobbs would in a year."

"Yes, that's right," replied Giraffe; "but we're going to know what's in the wind now, because here's the scout-master heading this way, with several of the other boys tagging at his heels, and sure as you live they're grinning too. Looks to me like Stephen and Allan thought it a good joke, though they look solemn enough when Doc turns their way. He's just got to leave us, you mark my words, fellows."

It turned out that very way. An urgent message had come that necessitated the immediate return of the scout-master. The old doctor with whom he practiced had been unlucky enough to fall, and break a leg; so it was absolutely essential that his assistant come back to look after the sick people of Cranford, hundreds of miles away.

While the scout-master is getting his personal belongings together, and the six boys gathered around are trying to look terribly disappointed, it might be well to introduce the little party to such of our readers who have not had the pleasure of making their acquaintance in previous volumes of this series.

The Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts now consisted of two full patrols, and a third was in process of forming. The original patrol was known as the Silver Fox, and the six scouts who were with Doctor Hobbs, away up here on the border of Lake Superior, bent on a cruise on the great fresh water sea, all belonged to that division of the troop, so that they are old friends to those who have perused any of the earlier books.

Thad Brewster, whom Bumpus had spoken of so highly, was a bright, energetic lad, who had always delighted in investigating things connected with outdoor life. He had belonged to a troop before organizing the one at Cranford, and was well qualified for being made the assistant scoutmaster, having received his credentials from the New York Headquarters long ago.

Allan Hollister, who would assume the responsibility should Thad be absent, was a boy who had spent quite a time in the Adirondacks before joining the scouts, and his knowledge was along practical lines.

Then there was another fellow, rather a melancholy chap, who had a queer way of showing the whites of his eyes, and looking scared, at the least opportunity, only to make his chums laugh; for he would immediately afterwards grin-in school as a little fellow he had insisted that his name of Stephen should be pronounced as though it consisted of two syllables; and from that day to this he had come to be known as Step Hen Bingham.

The other three boys were the ones who engaged in the little talk with which this story opens. Bumpus really had another name, though few people ever thought to call him by it; yet in the register at school he was marked down as Cornelius Jasper Hawtree; while the fellow who had that strange "rubber-neck" that he was so fond of stretching to its limit, was Conrad Stedman.

Davy Jones, too, wag a remarkable character, as may be made evident before the last word is said in this story. He seemed to be as nimble as they make boys; and was forever doing what he called "stunts," daring any of his comrades to hang by their toes from the limb of a tree twenty feet from the ground; walking a tight-rope which he stretched across deep gully, and all sorts of other dangerous enterprises of that nature. Often he was called "Monkey," and no nick-name ever given by boy playmates fitted better than his.

Once Davy had been a victim to fits, and on this account gained great consideration from his teachers at school, as well as from his comrades. But latterly there had arisen a suspicion that these "fits" that doubled him up so suddenly always seemed to come just when there was some hard work to be done; and once the suspicion that Davy was shamming broke in upon the rest, they shamed him into declaring himself radically cured. It was either that, or take a ducking every time he felt one of those spells coming on; so Davy always declared the camp air had effected a miracle in his case, and that he owed a great deal to his having joined the scouts.

"Too bad, boys," said Dr. Hobbs, who was a mighty fine young man, and well liked by all the scouts in Cranford Troop, although they saw so little of him because his pressing duties called him away so often; "but I've got to go home on the first train. Doctor Green has a broken leg, and there's nobody to make the rounds among our sick people in Cranford. I never was more disappointed in my life, because we've fixed things for a glorious cruise up here on Old Superior."

The boys assured him that they deeply sympathized with him, because they knew it would break their hearts to be deprived of their outing, now that they had come so far.

"Fortunately," continued Dr. Hobbs, with a twinkle in his kindly eyes, "that isn't at all necessary; because all arrangements have been made, the boat is waiting only a few miles away, and you have an efficient assistant scout-master in this fine chap here, Thad Brewster, who will take charge while I'm away, as he has done on numerous other sad occasions."

"Hurrah!" burst from Bumpus; "that's the kind of stuff we like to hear. Not that we won't miss you, Doctor, because you know boys from the ground up, and we all feel like you're an older brother to us; but we've been out with Thad so much, we're kinder used to his ways."

"Well," continued the scout-master, with a long sigh, "I've got to hurry off if I expect to catch that afternoon train, and there's no other until morning; so good-bye, boys. Take good care of yourselves, and write to me as often as you can. I'll try and picture the jolly happenings of this Lake Superior cruise as I read your accounts of it."

He squeezed the hand of every one of the six lively lads; and there was a huskiness in his voice as he bade them a last good-bye that told better than words how sorry he was to leave the merry bunch, just when they were almost, as Bumpus put it, "in sight of the Promised Water."

So the vehicle passed from sight, and the last they saw of Doctor Hobbs was a hand waving his campaign hat to them just before a bend in the country road was reached.

All of them now turned to Thad to see what his plan of campaign would be.

"If it's just this way, fellows," he remarked, with one of his smiles that had made him the most popular boy in all Cranford, barring none; "we've got about three miles to hit it up before we reach the lake shore. Then we'll make camp and spend another night, which I hope will be our last ashore for some little time. Because, unless there's a hitch to the program, we ought to come on the landing where our boat is going to be in waiting, by ten o'clock to-morrow."

"Hurrah!" cried Bumpus, who was already weary of "hiking" because his build made him less active than some of the other scouts, notably Davy and Giraffe.

"Let's get a move on, then," suggested Step Hen. "I can see that poor old Giraffe here is nearly perishing for a little bite of supper."

A rippling laugh ran around at this, for every one knew the failing of the long-legged scout, whose stowage capacity when it came time to eat had never as yet within the memory of any comrade been fully tested; for they always declared that his legs must be hollow, for otherwise it was a mystery where all the food he devoured went to, since he never seemed to get any stouter after a meal than he was before.

The march was accordingly resumed, with Tad and Allan leading the van. The boys were going light, because they did not intend to do much camping on this trip, as it was expected that the boat would accommodate all of them with sleeping quarters.

Each one had a blanket strapped to his back, and with this were a few necessities in the line cooking utensils and food. Most of their luggage had been sent on by another route, as had also their supplies. Doctor Hobbs had wished them to go to the landing where their boat was to meet them, by following this roundabout course, having had some reason of his own for visiting the country. His folks in Cranford owned considerable land in this vicinity, and it was said that there were out-croppings of valuable copper to be found upon it; which accounted for the young man's desire to make inquiries while up in this region.

Joking and laughing, and even singing snatches of school songs, the boys of the Silver Fox Patrol tramped along the road that was to bring them to the shore of the lake by and by.

It was about half-past four when they obtained their first glimpse of the apparently boundless body of water, said to be the largest fresh water sea in the whole world. Shortly afterwards they reached the shore and were looking almost in awe out upon the vast expanse of water, upon the bosom of which they anticipated making their home for some weeks during vacation time.

"Here's the finest camp site you ever struck in your born days, fellers!" called out Giraffe, as he waved his arm around at the trees that grew close to the edge of the inland sea; and every one of the other five scouts agreed with him.

They had made many camps in the last two years, for they had wandered far from the home town, down in Tennessee, up in Maine, and away out to the Rockies on one memorable occasion; but no better place to spend a night had ever greeted their eyes.

It was soon a bustling scene, with a fire being started, and arrangements made to build a sort of lean-to shelter that would even shed rain in a pinch should a storm come upon them during the night they expected to spend here.

Davy, as usual, was climbing trees, and spying into every hole he could find. When Monkey Jones had a chance to exercise his peculiar gifts like this present opportunity afforded him it was utterly out of the question to hold him in. And so he swung daringly from one limb to another, just for all the world like a squirrel, chattering at times in a way that Giraffe always declared left no doubt in his mind concerning Davy's having descended from the original tree-climbing tribe that sported tails.

There was one very large tree close by, that is, large considering that in this section there were few that could boast a girth of more than a foot; but this one was really what Bumpus called a "whopper;" and Davy sported among the higher branches with all the delight of a child with a new toy; giving the others more than one thrill as he swooped this way and that with reckless abandon.

But suddenly he sent out a shout that caused every fellow to take notice; and Bumpus actually turned pale with apprehension, as he vainly looked around for some sort of weapon with which to defend himself; because he always believed he must be a shining mark for any hungry wild beast, on account of his plumpness.

"Oh!" shouted the boy in the tree, "a panther, fellers, a really true panther!"

"He says a panther is up there!" echoed Giraffe, stretching that long neck of his at a fearful rate, in the endeavor to locate the animal in question.

All of them became immediately intensely interested in the further doings of Davy Jones. The boy chanced to be in a position where he could not apparently pass down the trunk of the tree, for fear lest he come in contact with the sharp claws of the dreaded beast which he claimed was hiding up there somewhere; but then that was a small matter to one so active as the Jones boy.

He immediately started to fearlessly slide down the outside of the tree, making use of the branches as he came along, to stay his program when it threatened to become too rapid.

The sight of Davy spinning down from that height with such perfect abandon, was one none of those fellows would ever forget.

When he finally landed on the ground they gathered around him with some misgivings, for Davy was addicted to practical jokes, and some of his chums suspected that even now he was, as Step Hen suggested, "putting up a job on his unsuspecting comrades."

One look at his really white face told them that at least Davy's fright had been genuine. He may not have seen a truly savage panther up there in the tree, but he firmly believed he did.

"Where was it, Davy?" demanded Giraffe, who had hastened to snatch up the camp hatchet in lieu of any better weapon with which to defend himself.

"Did it try to grab you?" asked Bumpus, with a tremor in his voice that he tried in vain to conceal by a great show of assumed bluster.

"And was there only one up there?" queried Step Hen, anxiously, fingering the double-barreled Marlin shotgun, which was the only firearm they had with them, as this expedition had not been organized with any idea of hunting; and the season for game was not on as yet, either, even in this northern country; though Giraffe, who owned the gun, had fetched it in the hope that they might be forgiven if they knocked over a few wild ducks, should their rations run low.

"I didn't wait to ask," stammered Davy, "fact is, boys, I didn't really see the terrible beast at all, only his big yellow eyes!"

"Oh! is that so, Davy?" exclaimed Thad, turning to give Allan a wink, as much as to let him understand that the truth would soon be coming now.

"But see here," Step Hen wanted to know; "however was you agoin' to see his eyes and not glimpse the panther himself; that's a thing you've got to explain, Davy Jones."

The other bent a look of commiseration on the speaker.

"What's the answer to that?" he went on to say, recovering his voice more and more with each passing second, now that his personal safety seemed assured; "I'll tell you, Step Hen. You see, there's a big yawning gap in the tree up there, as black inside as your hat after night. And when I just happened to look that way what did I see but a pair of round yellow eyes astaring straight at me! Guess I've seen a panther, and I ought to know how his eyes look in the dark-just like you've seen the old cat alooking at you to home, when you went into a dark room. Wow! say, did you notice me acoming down that tree outside like greased lightning? I own up I expected I'd be pounced on any second, and that made me in something like a hurry, fellows!"

One or two of the scouts snickered at this. The sound appeared to annoy

Davy, who was plainly very much in earnest.

"Huh! easy to laugh, you fellows," he remark, with deep satire in his voice. "Mebbe, now, you, don't believe what I'm telling you! Mebbe one of you'd like to just climb up there, and see for yourself what it is? I dare you, Bumpus!"

"You'll have to excuse me, Davy; it's too big a job for a boy built like me, you understand, though sure I'd like to accommodate first rate," replied the scout with the red hair and mild blue eyes, shrinking back, and shrugging his shoulders.

"Then how about you, Step Hen," pursued Davy, determined to put it to each of the scoffers in turn until he had shown them up in good style; "I notice that you're looking like you didn't reckon there couldn't abeen such a thing as a genuine panther around this region in the last twenty years and more. Suppose you tumble up there, and take a look-in!"

But the party indicated smiled sweetly, and laid his hand on the region of his stomach, as he went on to say:

"Why, really and truly, Davy, I think I'm going to have one of those nasty cramps just like you used to have so often. There's agripe coming on right now, and you see how unpleasant it would be to find myself doubled-up while I was thirty feet from the ground. I'm afraid I'll have to pass this time."

"Then, there's Giraffe who'll he sure to volunteer," continued the other, bound to take all the scoffers in by turns. "He's of an investigating turn of mind, and if he wants to, I reckon he might take that gun along, so he could have some show, if the thing jumped right out in his face!"

"Well, now," the long-legged scout answered, with a whimsical grin, "I'd like to accommodate you the worst kind, Davy, but you know how it is with me. I ain't worth a cooky before I've had my feed. Feel sorter weak about the knees, to tell you the honest truth; and I never was as keen about climbing to the top of tall trees as you were, Davy. Count me out, please, that's a good fellow."

At that Davy laughed outright.

"I see you've got cold feet in the bargain, Giraffe," he asserted. "Well, then, if anybody's going to climb up there and poke that ugly old beast out of his den it'll have to be either our scout-master, or Allen; for I tell you right now you don't catch me monkeying with a buzz-saw after I've had my fingers zipped."

"I'll go," said Thad, quietly.

"Here, take this, Thad," urged Step Hen, trying to force the shotgun into the hands of the other, as he stepped toward the base of the big tree.

Thad and Allan again exchanged looks.

"Don't think I'll need it, do you, Allan?" the former asked.

"Hardly," came the reply; "and even if you did carry it up, the chances are you couldn't find a way to hold on, and shoot at the same time. Here, let me take that thing, Step Hen; you're that nervous. If anything did happen to fluster you, I honestly believe you'd up and bang away, and perhaps fill our chum with bird-shot in the bargain."

Step Hen disavowed any such weakness, but nevertheless he was apparently glad to hand over the weapon; because he realized that Allan knew much better how to use firearms than he did, and if there was any occasion for shooting, the responsibility would be off his shoulders; for Step Hen never liked to find himself placed where he was in the limelight and had to make good, or be disgraced.

Thad did not appear to be at all worried, as he took a last good look aloft, as though wishing to assure himself that there was no panther in sight among the thick branches above, before he trusted himself up there.

His good common sense told him that the chances were as ten to one that Davy had not seen what he claimed at all; but his fears had worked overtime, and simply magnified some trifling thing.

Of course had Thad really believed there was any chance of meeting such a savage beast as a panther he would never have ventured w make that climb; or if he did he must have surely taken the gun along with him.

The others gathered around near the foot of the tree, and tried to follow the daring climber with their eyes, meanwhile exchanging more or less humorous remarks in connection with his mission.

All of them, saving possibly Allan, seemed to be a little nervous concerning the outcome; because Davy kept on asserting his positive belief that it was a real true panther that lay in the aperture above, and not a make-believe.

"I only hope Thad can dodge right smart if the old thing does come whooping out at him!" was the way Davy put it; at which the eyes of Bumpus grew rounder and rounder, and he began to quietly edge away from under the tree, an inch at a time; for he hoped none of his chums would notice his timidity, because Bumpus was proud of having done certain things in the line of bagging big game, on the occasion of their trip to the Far West.

"There," remarked Step Hen, "he's getting up pretty far now, and I reckon must be close by the place where you saw your old panther, Davy."

"Yes," added Giraffe, "and you notice that Thad's marking time, so to speak, for he's hanging out there, and trying to see what's above him."

"A scout should always use a certain amount of caution," interposed Allan; "there are times when a fellow might take chances, if it's a case of necessity, and quick action is necessary in order to save life; but right now Thad's only carrying out the rule he's always laid down for the rest of us.

"Be prepared, you know, is the slogan of every scout, and that's what he's doing. He wants to be sure of his ground before he jumps."

"Hub!" grunted Davy, "if I'd stopped to count ten before I slid down, I wonder now what would have happened to me. Some fellers act from impulse every time, and you can't change the spots of the leopard, they say. What's dyed in the wool can't be washed out, as took as Bumpus here with his carroty hair."

"You leave my hair alone, Davy Jones, and pay attention to your own business," complained the stout scout, aggressively. "You just know you're a going to get it when Thad makes his report, and you're trying to draw attention somewhere else. Make me think of what I read about the pearl divers when they see an old hungry man-eating shark waiting above 'em; they stir up the sand with the sharp-pointed stick they carry; and when the water gets foggy they swim away without the fish being able to see 'em. And you're atrying right now to befog the real case, which is, did you really see anything, or get scared at your own shadow."

"Hear! Hear!" crowed Giraffe, who always liked to see Bumpus aroused, and when this occurred he often made out to back him up with approval, just as some boys would sick one dog on another, or tempt rival roosters to come to a "scrap."

"You fellow's let up, and watch what Thad's agoin' to do," Step Hen advised them at that juncture; and so for the time being Davy and Bumpus forgot their complaint and riveted their eyes on the boy who was up in the tree.

"I can't hardly see him any more, the branches are so thick," complained

Bumpus ducking his head this way and that.

"That's because he's gone on again," argued Giraffe; "seems like he didn't find any signs of a real panther when he took that survey."

"Hold your horses!" was all Davy allowed himself to say, though no doubt he himself had commenced to have serious doubts by now.

Half a minute later and there broke out a series of strange sounds from up above their heads.

"Listen to that, now, would you?" cried Davy, bristling with importance again. "Don't that sound like Thad might a hit up against something big? Hear him talking, will you? Didn't you catch what he said right then-no, you don't grab me, you rascal; I'm afraid I'll have to knock you on the head yet! Say, don't that sound like Thad had found my panther, and was keeping him off with that club he took up with him. Oh! what's that?"

Something came crashing down as Davy uttered this last exclamation. The boys were horrified at, first, because they imagined it might bit Thad and the panther, that, meeting in midair, had lost their grip, and were falling to the ground, fully forty feet below.

"Why, it's only his club," cried Giraffe, quickly.

"Then he must have let it get knocked out of his hand!" ejaculated Bumpus. "Oh! poor Thad. He'll be in a bad fix without a single thing to fight that animal with!"

"That's where you're mistaken, because I can see him now, and he's acoming down the tree right smart!" Step Hen announced; which intelligence allowed Bumpus to breathe freely again, for his face was getting fiery red with the suspense that had gripped him.

"That's so!" echoed Giraffe, "and I'm looking to see if there's any signs of a big cat trailing after him, but so far nothing ain't come in sight."

The five scouts on the ground hastened to close in around the foot of the big tree, so as to welcome their patrol leader when he dropped from the lower limb.

"Seems to me Thad acts kind of clumsy, for him," announced Step Hen; "now, if it'd been Bumpus here I could understand it, because, well I won't say what I was agoing to, because it might make hard feelings between us; and with all his shortcomings Bumpus is a good sort of a chap."

"Huh! dassent, that's what!" grunted the party indicated, making a threatening gesture in the direction of his fellow-scout.

The arrival of the scout-master caused them to forget all other things. Thad, as soon as he found his feet fixed on solid ground once more, strode straight up until he faced Davy Jones, and suddenly called out:

"There's your panther, Davy!"

There was a craning of necks, a gasping of breaths, and then a series of yells broke forth that made the nearby woods fairly ring with the echoes.

"Why, it's only a big owl!" shouted Giraffe.

"Hey, Davy, shake hands with your yellow-eyed panther!" roared Step Hen.

Bumpus snatched up his bugle, for he held that office in the Cranford Troop, and let out a piercing series of blasts that would have undoubtedly frightened any wild animal, had there been such within a mile of the camp on the lake shore.

It was a large owl that Thad grasped in such fashion that the bird could not reach him with its curved beak, though it made several vicious lunges, as though anxious to fight the whole patrol at once.

He had kept it hidden under his coat when descending the tree, and now gripped it firmly by its two splendidly colored wings.

"Well, it did have yellow eyes, all right," complained the dejected Davy; "and as it stuck there in that black hole, how was I to know it was only a harmless old owl, a hooter at that?"

"If you think he's harmless just try and lay a finger on him," said Thad. "Why, he'd snap you like lightning; once let that beak strike, and you'd lose a piece of skin as big as a half dollar. He's a savage bird, let me warn you."

"Oh! say, can't we, keep him for a pet?" ejaculated Bumpus, who could hardly take his eyes off the bird, for its plumage was certainly beautiful, being a combination of creamy yellows and nut browns, while two bunches stuck up like horns from the region of his ears.

"I've got a nice little chain we might put around one of his legs, and what fun we'd have with the thing while we were afloat on the raging lake," Step Hen went on to say.

"Allan, get on that thick pair of gloves we brought, and see if you could fasten the chain to his leg. It would be worth while to have some sort of pet along with us; because Bumpus has kicked over the traces long ago, and won't let us make a baby out of him any more," Thad went on to remark.

When he had protected his hands in this way, Allan had little difficulty in adjusting the slender but strong steel chain which Step Hen had brought with him, intending to use in case he managed to capture a raccoon, or some other small beast, for he was especially found of pets.

When they had fastened the other end of the chain to something, the owl sat on the limb of a tree, and gazed at them with blinking eyes. There was still enough of daylight, with all that glow in the western heavens to interfere with his sight more or less, and he simply ruffled up his feathers in high dudgeon, and kept trying to pick at the chain that held his leg.

"Now, that's what I call a pretty good start," argued Step Hen, as he stood in front of the chained owl, and admired his plumage; "perhaps later on I might happen to land a 'coon or a mink, who knows. I've always believed that I'd like to have a pet mink, though somebody told me they couldn't be tamed."

"Yes," went on Giraffe scornfully, "if you had your way the whole boat'd be a floating menagerie, you've got such a liking for pets. The mink would soon be joined by a 'possum; then would come a pair of muskrats; after which we'd expect to find a fox under our feet every time we stepped; a wolverine growling like fun at us when we made the least move; a squirrel climbing all over us; a heron perched on the garboard streak, whatever that might be; and mebbe a baby bear rolling on the deck. All them things are possible, once Step Hen gets started on his collecting stunt."

"Well, forget it now, won't you, Giraffe, because there goes Bumpus putting supper on the fire; and unless you look sharp he'll just cut down your ration till you'll only get as much as any two of us," advised Step Hen.

In spite of all these little encounters of wit, and the sharp things that were sometimes said, boy fashion, these six churns were as fond of each other as any lads could possibly be. There was hardly anything they would not have done for one another, given the opportunity; and this had been proved many times in the past.

While they were fond of joking the tall scout on his appetite, truth to tell every one of the others could display a pretty good stowage capacity when it came to disposing of the meals. And so they were all anxious to help Bumpus when he started getting the camp supper ready.

Besides these six lads there were of course two others who went to, make up the full complement; of the Silver Fox Patrol; and who have figured in previous stories of this series.

These boys were named Robert Quail White, who was Southern born, and went by the name of "Bob White," among his friends; and Edmund Maurice Travers Smith, conveniently shortened to plain "Smithy."

These two had taken a different route to the lake, and expected to meet their six churns at a given rendezvous. They were intending also to make use of another boat, since the one engaged for the party would only accommodate seven at a pinch, and counting the scout-master they would have numbered nine individuals in all.

The other two had found that they wanted to see the wonderful Soo Canal, and the rapids that the St. Mary river boasts at that point, where the pent-up waters of Superior rush through the St. Mary's river to help swell the other Great Lakes, and eventually pass through the St. Lawrence river to the sea.

It is no joke cooking for half a dozen hungry scouts, and the one whose duty compelled him to be the chef for a day had to count on filling the capacity of coffee-pot and frying-pans, of which latter there were two.

Evening had settled down upon them by the time they were ready to enjoy the supper of Boston baked beans, fried onions with the steak that had been procured at the last town they had passed through; crackers, some bread that one of them toasted to a beautiful brown color alongside the fire, and almost scorched his face in the bargain; and the whole flanked by the coffee which was "like ambrosia," their absent chum Smithy would have said, until they dashed some of the contents of the evaporated cream into each tin cup, along with lumps of sugar.

"This is what I call living," sighed Giraffe, as he craned his neck visibly in the endeavor to see, whether there was a third "helping" left in the pan for "manners," which was another name for Conrad Stedman.

"Hadn't we better save this piece of steak for Tim?" suggested Step Hen, wickedly, for that was the name he had given to the captive owl.

"No, you don't," objected Giraffe, vociferously, just as the other had known he would do; "that's the very last beef steak we're apt to see for half a moon; and I say it would be a shame to waste it on a heathen bird. Besides, you couldn't coax Jim to take a bite till he's nearly starved; ain't that so, Thad?"

They always appealed to either the assistant scout-master or Allan, whenever any question like this came up, connected with bird or animal lore; and no matter how puzzling the matter might seem to the one who asked, it was promptly answered in nearly every instance.

"Yes, he isn't likely to take hold for a day or two," replied Thad. "By that time the old fellow will sort of get used to seeing us about; and he won't refuse to eat when you put something out for him; only all of you be careful that he doesn't prefer a piece out of your hand. Don't trust him ever!"

"You can make up your mind I won't give him a chance to grab me," asserted Bumpus, never dreaming that by accident he would be the very first to feel the force of that curved beak.

"Listen!" exclaimed Step Hen; "as sure as anything there's another!

Why, this must be what you might call Owl-land."

From far away in the timber came the plain sound of hooting. All of the scouts knew what it was easily enough, though there had been a time when they were real tenderfeet, and could hardly distinguish between the call of an owl and the braying of a donkey; but camping-out experience had done away with all such ignorance as that.

"There, don't that make you feel foolish, Step Hen?" demanded Bumpus.

"Me? Whatever put that silly notion into your head, Bumpus?"

"Why," the other went on to say reproachfully, "it was you that really wanted to keep the poor old bird; and just listen to its mate mourning for it, would you? I'd think you'd feel so sorry you'd want to unfasten that chain right away, and give the owl its freedom."

"Not for Joseph, though I'll let you go and undo his chain if you feel inclined that way," Step Hen observed, knowing full well that Bumpus did not want to see the feathered captive set free quite that bad. "Besides, how d'ye know that's a mate to my bird whooping it up back there?"

"Well, if you want to find out, just you sleep with one eye open," Bumpus told him; "and take it from me you'll see that other owl come winnowing around here, wanting to know why our new pet don't come when she calls."

"Huh! mebbe I will,"' was all Step Hen would say about it; but evidently the idea had appealed to him; and there was a chance that he would indulge in very little rest that night, for trying to "keep one eye open while he slept."

After supper was all over, and the boys lay around on their blankets, they fell to talking of other days when they had been in company, and met with a great many, surprising adventures.

Then Bumpus, who really had a very fine tenor voice, which he could strain so as to sing soprano like a bird, was coaxed to favor them with a number of selections, the others coming in heavy in each chorus.

Sometimes it was a popular ballad of the day that Bumpus gave them; but more often a school chorus, or it might be some tender Scotch song like "Comin' Through the Rye," "Annie Laurie," or "Twickenham Ferry;" for boys can appreciate such sentiments more than most folks believe; and especially when in an open air camp, with the breeze sighing through the trees around them, or the waves murmuring as they wash the sandy shore of a lake, and the moonlight throwing a magical spell upon all their surroundings; for there is the seed of romance in the heart of nearly every healthy lad.

So the evening wore on until some of them began to yawn frequently, showing that they were ready to turn in. As one of them had said, this might be the last time they would camp ashore during trip, because on the morrow they anticipated, unless something unforeseen came up to prevent it, going aboard their boat, and starting on the cruise upon the big waters of Superior.

They had no tent on this occasion, but really that was not going to prove any hardship to these bold lads, accustomed to spending many a night in the woods, with only a blanket for a cover against the dew and frost.

It was arranged to keep the fire going. This would serve in a double capacity, for not only would they be kept warm through the cold part of the night, but if there did happen to be any wild beasts around in that section of the Lake Superior country, which both Allan and Thad rather doubted, why, the glow of the blaze was apt to make them keep their distance.

The last thing Giraffe remembered, as his heavy eyes persisted in closing, was seeing Step Hen bob up his head to stare over toward the low branch upon which the captive owl was fastened; as though he might have arranged a program with himself and meant to do this thing at stated intervals all through the night.

Giraffe chuckled at the idea of sacrificing good sleep in the interest of knowledge; he was willing to simply ask some one who knew, and be satisfied to accept their answer as conclusive.

An hour later and the camp seemed to be all quiet, for every one was apparently sound asleep. Even Thad and Allan had known of no reason why a watch should be maintained, for they felt sure there could hardly be a human being within miles of the camp; and even if this were not so, the chances were strongly in favor of its proving to be an honest farmer, or some miner on his way to the workings further west.

The only sounds that could have been heard from time to time were an occasional peevish fretful croak from the captive owl, as it continued to peck savagely at the chain around its leg; or it might be a snore from Bumpus, or some other fellow who had a fashion of lying squarely on his back.

Perhaps pretty soon, when one of the scouts had been kept awake by this noise until patience ceased to be a virtue, he would get quietly up, and pour a tin-cup of lake water over the one who persisted in sleeping with his mouth wide open; for that sort of radical remedy had proven effective on other occasions, and brought relief.

It must have been almost midnight when a sudden change came about that took even the seasoned campers by surprise, for they had not been anticipating any such startling event.

The stillness was broken by a piercing scream that caused every head to bob up, and the blankets to be hurriedly thrown aside.

"My owl's mate has come in on us, mebbe!" exclaimed Step Hen; for that idea was so firmly lodged in his brain that it had to occur to him as soon as he heard all that row.

But some of the others were wiser, for they knew that shout had surely come from human lips.

Giraffe was the first to call out and draw their attention to certain facts.

"Looky there at old Bumpus dancing a jig, will you! Whatever ails the feller, d'ye think! Acts like he'd clean gone out of his head, and got loony!" he cried, as with the other boys he came tumbling out from under the rude shelter made of branches.