  Camp, that night, was made at the portage of which the major had spoken. Although strict watch was kept all night nothing unusual occurred. Bright and early the work of the portage was commenced. The Major, Jumbo and Professor Jorum, each burdened themselves with a canoe, which they carried across their shoulders, turned bottom up and resting on a wooden “yoke.” The lads carried the “duffle” and provisions. The portage, connecting the lake they had traversed with the one beyond, was over rough ground. In fact, at one place, they had to clamber up quite a ridge. It was rocky and grown with coarse undergrowth interspersed with scanty trees. Further on the trail ran beside quite a deep ravine. Tubby, with his load of duffle, was slightly in advance of the other lads, and humming a song as he trudged along. With the curiosity natural to the stout youth, he could not refrain from wandering from the path to peer over into the depths of the gulch. “My goodness!” he exclaimed to himself, as he gazed interestedly, “it would be no joke to fall in there.” As he spoke he drew closer to the edge of the rift and craned his short neck to obtain a still better view of the abyss below him. At this juncture the others, laboring along the trail, caught up with him, and Rob gave the stout Scout a hail. “Better come away from there, Tubby,” he warned, “you know what happened out west, when you went rubbering about the haunted caves.” “It’s all right,” retorted the fat boy, “it looks nice and cool down in there. I’d like to——” The rest of his speech was lost in an alarmed exclamation from the onlookers. As Tubby uttered his confident remark he seemed to vanish suddenly, like an actor in a stage spectacle who has dived through a trap door. Only a cloud of dust and a roar of stones sliding into the ravine told of what had happened to the over-confident youth. Standing too close to the edge he had stepped on an overhanging bit of ground and had been precipitated downward. “Good gracious!” cried Rob, in real alarm, “he’s gone over!” With a swift fear that Tubby’s accident might have resulted fatally, Rob was at the edge of the ravine in two jumps. The rest were not far behind him. Rob experienced a feeling of intense relief, however, as he gazed into the depths. Some time before, a tree had become dislodged and slid into the rift. It lay upon the bottom of the place. Tubby, luckily for himself, had fallen into its branches and was, except for a few scratches, apparently unhurt. “Are you injured?” demanded Rob, anxiously, nevertheless. He wanted to hear from Tubby’s own lips that he was all right. “Nothing hurt but my feelings,” the stout youth assured him. “Say, it is cool down here.” “Well, if nothing’s hurt but your feelings you’re all right,” cried Merritt; “you couldn’t hurt those with an axe.” “Just you wait till I get out of here,” yelled Tubby from his leafy seat. “Well, how are we going to get you up?” demanded Merritt. “Guess you’ll have to stay there till we get a ladder.” “Tell you what we’ll do,” said Rob, “we’ll take the ropes off the packs and join them together. Then we can knot one end to one of the staves and haul Tubby up.” “That’s a good idea,” called the stout youth, who had overheard, “and hurry up, too.” “Gracious, it needs an elephant to haul your fat carcass out of there,” scoffed Merritt. “I guess we’ll take our time over it.” “Take as long as you like, so long as you get me out,” parried Tubby, “you always were slow, anyhow, as the fellow said when he threw his dollar watch into the creek.” It did not take long to rig up an extemporized life-line with the pack ropes. This done, one end was made fast to the staves, and the other lowered to Tubby. At Rob’s orders the rope was passed round a tree trunk, and when Tubby had adjusted the rope under his arm pits the young Scouts began to haul. As Merritt had said, Tubby was no lightweight. Once they had to stop, and the rope ran back quite a way. A yell from Tubby ensued. “Hey! Keep on hauling there!” he roared, “what do you think I am, a sack of potatoes?” “You feel like a sack of sash weights!” shouted Rob, “keep still now, and we’ll have you out in a jiffy.” A few minutes later Tubby’s fat face, very red, appeared above the edge of the rift over which he had taken his abrupt plunge. Rob seized him by the shoulders and dragged him into safety. “There now, for goodness sake don’t fall in again,” he said. “As if you aren’t always telling me to fall in,” scoffed Tubby. “When, pray?” “Every time we drill,” said the stout youth solemnly, flicking some dust off his uniform with elaborate care. Owing to the length of time occupied by extricating Tubby from his difficulties, the canoe bearers had become apprehensive of harm to the following body and had halted. Of course questions ensued when the rear guard came up. “What happened?” demanded the major, noting the suppressed amusement on the lads’ faces. “Oh, Tubby fell in again,” answered Merritt. “Fell in?” asked the professor in an astonished tone. “I went hunting for botanical specimens at the bottom of a ravine, professor,” said Tubby gravely. “For botanical specimens? Most interesting. Pray did you find any?” “Nothing but a Bumpibus Immenseibus,” replied Tubby with perfect gravity. The other boys had to turn aside and stuff their fists in their mouths to keep from laughing outright. Even the major’s lip quivered. But the professor displayed immense interest. As for Jumbo, he was lost in admiration. “Dat suttinly am de mos’ persuasive word I’ve done hearn in a long time,” he exclaimed. “Blumpibusibus Commenceibus. What am dat, fish, flesh or des corned beef?” “It’s a pain,” rejoined Tubby, “and usually follows a fall. But not a fall in temperature, or——” “Ah, Hopkins, I fear you are making merry at my expense,” exclaimed the professor, good-naturedly. “Well, I took a tumble, anyhow,” said Tubby. “About time you did,” came in Merritt’s voice. In the chase that ensued a wave of merriment burst loose. But time pressed, and the march was speedily resumed, with but a short interruption for lunch. Late that afternoon they emerged on the shores of the other lake. It was a beautiful sheet of water, narrow and hemmed in by high hills which shot up abruptly on every side. At the far end could be seen a series of three peaks, jagged and sharp against the sky. The major turned to the professor, and both consulted the map and the translation of the cipher. “When the ruby mound masks the Three Brothers take a course by the great dead pine. Four hundred to the west, three hundred to the north, and below the man of stone.” Such were the words which the major read aloud from the professor’s translation. “How do you interpret that, professor?” he asked. “Why, plainly enough: the three brothers referred to are those three similar peaks,” said the professor; “the map indicates them. The ruby mound is not quite so clear. But I don’t doubt that we shall stumble across its meaning, and also that of ‘the man of stone,’ which, I confess, I cannot make out.” “May be it’s some mass of rock that looks like a man,” volunteered Rob, who, like the others, had listened with eager attention while the major read. “An excellent idea, my boy. That is possibly the correct meaning, although the old buccaneer may have spoken in riddles. Such men frequently did. However, we are at the gateway of our venture. To-morrow we shall know if it meets with success or failure.” “To-morrow!” echoed the Boy Scouts. “Ef ah could cotch dat five-hundred-dollah-pusson to-morrow dat would be all de treasure ah’d want,” mumbled Jumbo as he set down his canoe. He had kept it on his back up to now, like a shell on a black turtle. “Ah don’ lak dis business ob interfussin’ wid a dead man’s belongin’s. No good ain’t gwine ter come uv it.” “What are you mumbling about, Jumbo?” asked the major, overhearing some of this last. “Why, majah, I was jes’ a communicatin’ to myself mah pussonal convictions on de subjec’ ob dead men’s gold.” “Why, Jumbo, are you superstitious?” inquired the professor. “No, sah. Ah’s bin vaccinated an’ am glad to say it took. We ain’t neber had no supposishishness in our fam’bly. But dis yar meddlin’ an monkeyin’ wid what belongs to dem as is daid and buried is bad bis’nis, sah—bad bis’nis.” “I thought that you had more courage than that,” said the professor seriously. “Ah got lots ob dat commodity, too, sah. Ah dassay dat ah is de bravest man in de—Oh! fo’ de law’s sake, wha’ dat? Oh, golly umptions! Majah! You Boy Scrouts, help!” Jumbo suddenly cast himself down on the ground and began rolling over and over, trying to seize the major’s feet in his paroxysm of real alarm. “Get up!” ordered the major curtly, “get up at once, you cowardly creature. What’s the matter?” “Oh, mah goodness, majah, you didn’t see it. You had yo’ back to der bushes. So did de odders. But ah seed it.” “Saw what, sir?” “Oh, golly gumptions! De ugliest lilly face wid black whiskers an’ eyes dat I ebber seed. It was lookin’ frough de bushes an’ listening to you alls.” “Where? Show me the place at once.” The major’s tone was curt and fraught with a deeper meaning. “Right hyah, sah, majah. Right hyah, dis am whar I seen dat homely lilly face. Yas sah.” But although they made a thorough search of the vicinity no trace of a concealed listener could be found. “I’d be half-inclined to put it down to Jumbo’s foolishness if it wasn’t that we know we have enemies in the mountains,” said the major, after supper that night. “But as it is, sir?” asked Rob. “As it is,” replied the major, “I think we had better keep a sharp look out and ‘Be Prepared.’ Jumbo’s description of that face seems to tally pretty closely with the countenance of Black Bart.” “Just what I think,” rejoined Rob; “if he hadn’t got so frightened Jumbo might have secured that five hundred dollars after all.” “Marse Rob,” said Jumbo, who had been listening intently, “you ebber hyah dat lilly story ’bout de man wot caught de wild cat?” “No; heave ahead with the yarn, Jumbo,” said the major. “Well, sah, onct upon a time two men was campin’. One went to der spring ter git watah. Pretty soon de one lef’ behin’ hearn de awfullest racket and caterwaulin’ by dat spring you ever hearn tell ob. “‘What de mattah?’ he call. “‘I got a wild cat!’ holler de man by de spring. “‘Kain’t you hole him?’ hollers his fren’. “‘I kin hole him all right,’ hollered de udder feller, ‘but I don’t know how ter let him go ag’in’.” After the laughter excited by this narration had subsided, Jumbo rolled his eyes solemnly and cleared his throat. Then he spoke: “An’ dat lilly nanny-goat (anecdote) applies sah, dat applies ter me and dis yar Black Bart or whateber his name am.” |
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