The Outdoor Chums After Big Game by Captain Quincy Allen

C >> Captain Quincy Allen >> The Outdoor Chums After Big Game

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

[Illustration: FILLED WITH MAD RAGE, HE WAS GALLOPING STRAIGHT
TOWARD THEM!--_Frontispiece_.--_Page 66_]

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME

OR

Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness

BY

CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

AUTHOR OF "THE OUTDOOR CHUMS,"
"THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE," ETC.

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES

BY CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS
Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE
Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST
Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF
Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME
Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 50 cents postpaid._

GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP
_The Outdoor Chums After Big Game_

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I GLORIOUS NEWS 1
II THE MOTORCYCLE THIEVES 14
III HOMEWARD BOUND BY MOONLIGHT 22
IV STARTING HANK RIGHT 31
V WESTWARD BOUND 40
VI AT THE VALLEY RANCH 49
VII THE GRIZZLY AT BAY 60
VIII BLUFF MISSES SOMETHING 67
IX FRANK HAS HIS TURN 76
X THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE ELK 87
XI THE ELK AND THE YOUNG HUNTER 96
XII HARD LUCK 105
XIII AN INVADER IN CAMP 116
XIV THE COWBOY GUIDE 125
XV IN THE RAPIDS 134
XVI THE NEW CAMP 143
XVII AT THE CAMPFIRE OF THE CREES 153
XVIII AN INVITATION TO COME OUT 162
XIX A STRANGE DISCLOSURE 173
XX "WE MUST CUT AND RUN FOR IT!" 182
XXI NEVER GIVE UP 191
XXII THE WAR OF THE ELEMENTS 198
XXIII THE STAMPEDE 206
XXIV A MYSTERY SOLVED 215
XXV HOME AGAIN--CONCLUSION 225

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME

CHAPTER I

GLORIOUS NEWS

"Hello, there, _Red Rover_! Come alongside!"

"What's the row, fellows? This dandy breeze is too good to be wasted
loafing."

"Frank's coming in the _Jupiter_, and coming like a streak!"

"Yes, and more than that, Bluff, he waves his hat as though he had great
news!"

Will Milton and Jerry Wallington sat in the double canoe, that with
flapping sails pointed its stem into the wind; while their chum, Richard
Masters, known among all his schoolmates as Bluff, manipulated the
dainty fifteen-foot cedar craft in which he had been speeding over the
surface of Camalot Lake.

Another midget boat, constructed on the same lines as that in which
Bluff was seated, came flying down before the wind, and presently
brought up alongside the other craft.

It contained a single young fellow, upon whose frank and open face
rested a broad smile that seemed to prophesy pleasing news.

"What makes you look so happy, Frank? Evidently you've heard that your
examination papers were up to the standard, and it's college next year
for yours," remarked Bluff with eagerness, and, it must be confessed, a
tinge of envy in his quivering voice.

"Right for you! But that is only the beginning of my news!" cried Frank
Langdon as he reached out and caught Jerry by the arm.

"Am I in it?" demanded that worthy, seeming to catch his breath.

"Well, I should say you were, and with even better honors than poor me.
Now, the rest of you fellows, don't look that way. It's all right, I
tell you," went on the bearer of news, trying to control his own voice,
but succeeding only a little better than Jerry.

"Say! do you mean it? Did Bluff and I get through, after all?" exclaimed
Will.

Frank nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Careful, now, you wild Indians! Just remember that you're in canoes
that can be upset easily, and unless you want a ducking out in the
middle of the lake, restrain your enthusiasm a bit, please. It isn't the
easiest thing in the world, climbing over the stern of a canoe with all
your clothes on," he warned them.

"But is it really true?" pleaded Will. "Have I crawled through decently?
Well, I'm glad; not only because it will keep four chums together a
while longer, in college, but my mother has set her heart on this thing.
Yes, I'm mighty well pleased."

Will's mother was a rich widow, and as he had only a twin sister,
Violet, for whom Frank entertained a pronounced liking, the two were
more than ordinarily dear to Mrs. Milton.

"Well, fellows, let's give one mighty cheer because of our good
fortune," said Jerry, his face beaming with delight; for the chums were
very fond of each other, and had a single one been left behind on the
following year, when the college term opened, there would have been many
a keen regret.

"Hip, hip, hurrah! Hurrah! hurrah! Tiger!"

No doubt, many persons ashore, who heard that lusty shout come ringing
over the clear water of the beautiful little lake on which the town of
Centerville was located, wondered what the burst of enthusiasm meant.

But then they knew these four boys were built along the right lines,
and that while they loved the whole outdoors, with its attendant
exciting times, never had they been known to indulge in mean pranks.

After the cheer had died away there was a shaking of hands all around.

"Fellows, it begins to look as though our great trip to the Gulf of
Mexico last winter might not be our last grand outing, after all. You
know what our parents promised us if we went through all right?"

"Hear! hear! Frank has the floor!" cried Jerry.

"We were to have our choice of an extended tour through Yellowstone Park
to California, and return by way of the Canadian Rockies; or a grand
hunt in the wilderness, wherever we chose to take it. That was the idea,
wasn't it?" went on the happy occupant of the _Jupiter_.

"Talk to me about your personally conducted tours all you please,
nothing appeals to me like a real old hunt in the Great West," said
Jerry ecstatically. "Haven't I just longed for a chance to look at a big
elk in his native wilds, for years? And the thought of a grizzly bear
sends a thrill of pleasure through me."

"And as for me, haven't I lain awake nights without number thinking
about what bliss it would be to actually snap off a few pictures of
those same animals right where they live? How tame to go to a menagerie
and get a photo of a poor old bear behind the bars, when a fellow has a
chance to take him in the open!"

Of course it was Will who made this remark. He was the official
photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, as our four boy friends
called themselves, and his ambition to secure striking scenes, with wild
game in the center of the stage, had already led him into quite a few
scrapes, just as it would again when the opportunity presented itself.

"But what I have told you isn't quite all," remarked Frank presently,
when the chatter of voices allowed him a chance to get in a few words
edgewise.

"What else have you got up your sleeve?" demanded Bluff.

"Yes, confess everything, and perhaps we'll forgive you," came from
Will.

"Well, I've had a letter." And Frank held something up.

"From that old side partner of Jesse Wilcox, the trapper whose camp we
used to visit during our fall hunt?" cried Jerry.

Frank nodded his head.

"And what does he say? Hurry up, and tell. Can't you see that Bluff,
here, will be overboard? He's leaning so far over the side that the
water is ready to pour in over the gunwale. Will Martin Mabie take us
out?" asked Jerry.

"He says he will be glad to do so, for old friendship's sake. I'm to
wire when to expect us, and leave the rest to him," Frank explained.

"I hope he has told you what we are to fetch along. We've done some
hunting, fellows, in our time, but that sort of thing, with big game in
prospect, calls for heavier gear. None of your repeating shotguns need
apply this trip, Bluff, you understand?"

Jerry could never become wholly reconciled to the modern gun Bluff
owned. He professed to be such a clean sportsman that he always believed
in giving the game a chance, and declared it to be next door to murder
to have six shots in hand when hunting birds. With big game, it was all
right, because then a fellow's life might often be in danger.

"Oh, Martin Mabie has written quite a long letter. He seems to be an
educated man, and not at all the brand we figured out from hearing Jesse
talk about him. Boys, we can now lay our plans, and make a start inside
of a week," declared Frank.

"Isn't it just great? Did ever a set of grads get such a chance for fun
as this?"

"I don't believe they ever did, or ever will, Bluff. And our folks have
been mighty good to give us this glorious opportunity to enjoy an outing
such as we've hankered after for a year, remember that, fellows,"
remarked Frank seriously.

"You can just wager that I make it a point to let the pater know my
sentiments. He's the best dad going, and I mean to make him proud of me
some day. But tell us more about it, Frank. Where is Martin Mabie to
meet us, and what does he tell us to fetch along?"

"I'm not going to say another word, Jerry, until we get to the
clubhouse, when every one of you can have a chance to read his letter,"
remarked Frank as he prepared to cast off and throw his sails to the
breeze again.

"A week, did you say? Oh! what a long time to wait!" groaned Bluff.

"Still, there are lots of things to be done. I think it may be necessary
for one of us to run down to the city to lay in some things in the way
of ammunition, and a few articles of clothing for mountain wear."

"Then we'll appoint you as a committee of one to see to such traps,
Frank," called Jerry as the other shot away with the wind, his canoe
gliding over the little wavelets like a phantom craft.

Frank smiled. It was certainly nice to know that his chums felt such
sincere confidence in him at all times. There was nothing he would not
do to give them pleasure.

So the three cedar boats were soon heading for the clubhouse, and while
they are thus employed it might be well for us to understand just who
these chums were, and what they had been doing in the past to make them
such firm friends.

Frank was from Maine, but his father, a banker, had come to Centerville
a few years back; and among all the boys attending the Academy Frank had
soon picked out as his especial friends these three, Will Milton, Jerry
Wallingford and Bluff Masters.

After the Rod, Gun and Camera Club had been formed they had taken their
first outing, using their motorcycles to reach the woods beyond the head
of the lake. What befell them on this occasion has been told in the
first volume of this series, called "The Outdoor Chums; or, The First
Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club."

Later on, a storm having done considerable damage at the school, they
were given an unexpected fall vacation, and the chums decided to spend
it on Wildcat Island, situated at the foot of the lake. There were
several strange things connected with this island, such as a mysterious
wild man who had been seen there; and besides, it was shunned because of
the fierce bobcats that had possession. How our boys camped on this
island, and what wonderful adventures they met with there, can be
learned by reading the second volume, entitled "The Outdoor Chums on the
Lake; or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island."

When the Easter holidays came around they had laid out another charming
campaign. This was nothing more nor less than an expedition to Oak
Ridge, that lay some ten miles back from the lake, amid the Sunset
Mountains. Report had it that there was a real ghost to be seen there,
and the boys were bent on discovering the truth of this weird story. It
can be easily understood that they must have had a glorious time on that
trip, viewed from the standpoint of an eager, adventure-loving boy. But
the story is set down in full in the third volume, and you can read it
for yourselves in "The Outdoor Chums in the Forest; or, Laying the Ghost
of Oak Ridge."

No further long jaunts came the way of the quartet during the school
term, up to the Christmas holidays, when they received permission to
undertake a trip to the Sunny South. Just how this came about, and what
wonders they saw and experienced on a Florida river, as well as upon
the great Mexican Gulf, have been told in the fourth book of the series,
called "The Outdoor Chums on the Gulf; or, Rescuing the Lost
Balloonists."

And now it seemed as though, less than six months later, they were ready
to embark on what promised to be the most exciting trip of all, a visit
to the wilderness of the great Northwest, in search of big game.

Reaching the clubhouse, they quickly stowed their boats away. From this
time on there would probably be scant time for aquatic sports. The
tremendous undertaking they had in view would, very likely, occupy all
their spare moments.

"Now let's have that letter, Frank. We want to con it so that every word
will be photographed on our brains from this time on. Didn't old Jesse
say that Martin Mabie was a big stockman now, and had really quit being
a guide and hunter? Then it's mighty kind of him to undertake to convoy
a raft of tenderfeet into the wilderness. Money didn't enter into it,
that's sure," said Bluff.

"He mentions having had a long letter from Jesse," remarked Frank.

"That settles it, then. Our good old friend has been telling him
everything we ever did, and got him interested. We must make it a point
to run up and see Jesse before we go, and thank him."

"You're right about that, Jerry," said Frank warmly. "I was thinking the
same, myself. But here's the letter. Read it for yourselves."

Various were the comments after this had been done.

"Talk to me about your good fellows! That Martin Mabie stands in a class
of his own," observed Jerry. "Think of him offering to take us into the
mountains for weeks, and see that we have the time of our lives! And he
warns us not to mention the word money to him unless we want to break up
the game. I sure am anxious to shake hands with that same friend of old
Jesse."

"I move we start up there right now and see Jesse. The day is fine, and
when can we spare the time better?" suggested Will, who secretly wanted
just another chance to try a snapshot of the queer cabin which the
trapper occupied.

"Second the motion!" cried Bluff eagerly.

"I'm some cramped, myself, from sitting so long in that canoe. Perhaps a
run on our motorcycles might give me relief. So I say go," came from
Jerry.

Frank himself believed it would be a good idea. He knew that once they
started making preparations for their Western trip nothing was apt to
tear them away.

"All right, boys. It's going to be a full moon to-night. Suppose we stop
over and have a parting supper with Jesse? He'd be dreadfully tickled at
the notion. Tell your folks at home, and meet me at the Forks in not
more than half an hour."

Frank hustled the others out of the boathouse, locked the door, and then
the four chums hastened to their various homes.

Ere the half hour was up they came together at the forks of the road,
just out of Centerville. Frank was first on hand, as usual, but even
laggard Will showed up on time, camera and all.

In single file, and with a little space separating them, they started
off, the motors soon popping merrily as the boys entered into the spirit
of the occasion.

The air was fresh as they sped along the dusty road. The leader was ever
ready to signal a slow-down in case they met a farmer with a load of
hay, going to market, or any other vehicle. This was rendered necessary
because the cloud of dust might blind the eyes of those who came after,
and a collision be the result.

In this fashion they arrived at the lumber camp, which was deserted at
this time of year. From there on the pace had to be slowed down, for the
road was only used by logging teams, and hardly suitable for
motorcycles.

They were plugging along, each keeping his eyes open for obstacles apt
to present themselves, such as roots cropping up above the surface, when
the leader gave a sudden toot upon the little horn attached to his
machine that warned the others a stop was imperative.

CHAPTER II

THE MOTORCYCLE THIEVES

"What's gone wrong, Frank?" demanded Bluff, dropping off his seat.

"In luck again, for I'd have banged up against that big root if Frank
hadn't given the signal just then," chuckled Will, holding up his
machine.

"A puncture, Frank?" demanded Jerry, who had been in the rear.

"Not at all. I thought I heard some one shouting. Perhaps I was
mistaken, for with a lot of motors popping away it's hard to be sure.
Still, we can stop for a minute and listen," remarked Frank seriously.

"Shouting--for help?" repeated Will, looking around nervously.

"That's queer," cried Bluff, "that we seldom go out anywhere but what
somebody calls on us for assistance. Think of it! There was the town
bully, Andy Lasher, who was caught under that falling tree in the storm,
and rescued by Jerry."

"That's a fact; and then there was Jed, the bound boy, you remember,
fellows," went on Will eagerly.

"Not to mention the saving of the aeronaut from the burning hotel by
Frank, here; and last, but not least, our giving that little Joe the
glad hand down South," observed Jerry, joining in with enthusiasm.

"Yes, but there are a few rescues you seem to forget, Jerry. How about
that time when the wild dogs had you chasing around the tree?" asked
Bluff, grinning.

"Oh, that isn't in the same class. You forget that I got out of that
scrape by my own exertions," replied the other.

"But there was another time when we hauled you out of a hollow tree in
which you found yourself caged. You didn't crawl out of there alone and
unaided, if I remember right," persisted Will.

"Some things are better buried in oblivion. You and your camera want to
remind a fellow constantly of events that ought to be forgotten. But
Frank, that must have been an owl you heard. I haven't caught any call
for help yet."

"Perhaps we'd better go on, then. Look out how you mount here, for it's
a hard proposition, Jerry, with these roots and stones."

Frank had just started to move forward with his own motorcycle, when
all of them heard a sound issuing from the woods alongside the "tote"
road.

"Help! help!"

They looked at each other.

"Somebody's in trouble there. Who can it be?" said Frank as he leaned
his machine up against a tree, as though eager to hasten to the
assistance of the one who had cried out.

"No hunters around at this time of year," remarked Will as he followed
suit.

"And the loggers have been gone some months," went on Bluff.

"Tell me about that, now! It wasn't a child's voice, or I might think a
kid had got lost up here. Perhaps some man has cut himself badly with
his ax," suggested Jerry.

"Or dropped down into some old abandoned mine shaft," spoke up Frank,
with a wink toward Will; for one of the chums had gone through with just
such an experience during one of their outings, and had to be rescued.

"Shall we all go?" demanded Bluff, given to caution.

"Why not? Nothing can happen to our machines here. For one, I decline to
stay out of the rescuing party. Besides, perhaps I may get a chance to
snap off a lovely picture of the Good Samaritans at work."

Will had hastily unfastened his camera, and held it in his hands as he
spoke.

"All right, then. Come on, boys!"

With these words, Frank led the way into the woods.

"Sure the sound came from this direction?" asked Bluff.

"That was my impression. What do you say, Jerry?" and Frank turned to
the chum on whose knowledge of woodcraft he felt he could rely.

"Straight in there. You're heading all right, Frank," he replied.

"How far did it seem to be?" went on the leader.

"That is hard to say. The man may have been weakened from loss of blood.
If he was shouting, then it may have been several hundred yards, perhaps
a quarter of a mile off; but I think we'll come across him closer than
that."

"I agree with you, Jerry," said Frank, stopping short.

"What did you hear?" demanded the other, for Frank had bent his head,
and seemed to be listening over his shoulder.

"I don't know. Perhaps it was a bush springing back into place after our
passage. But suppose we shout occasionally? It may encourage the poor
fellow, and besides, guide us to where he lies," returned Frank, once
more pushing on.

Accordingly they lifted up their voices and gave a series of calls.

"Why doesn't he answer us?" asked Will, astonished when only the echoes
came back from the surrounding forest.

Frank stopped in his tracks.

"Can he have fainted from loss of blood?" said Bluff, still having in
mind a picture of a woodsman who had severed an artery by a misblow of
his ax.

"There's Frank listening again, and he seems to be paying more attention
to our rear than ahead," remarked Will, puzzled.

"I bet you he thinks somebody is playing us for a lot of fools; that
there isn't any one hurt, or in need of help at all. What's that?"

The distinct and well-known "popping" of a motor was heard.

"It's a trick, fellows! Somebody is meddling with our machines! Back to
the road!" shouted Jerry, turning and plunging through the under-brush
recklessly.

A wild scramble followed. The four chums were so excited, and filled
with a determination to stop the unknown miscreants from making way
with their machines, that they gave little heed to their steps. The
consequence was that more than once a collision with a tree ensued, and
various bumps afterward gave mute evidence as to the reckless manner of
their chase.

"There's two of 'em!" shrieked Will from the rear, as he caught the
sound of a second series of erratic poppings.

Evidently those who were meddling with the motorcycles did not have a
thorough knowledge of how to work the same, for the sounds would
suddenly cease and then start up again.

"Oh! don't I wish they'd just take headers over some nice fat root!"
gasped the perspiring Will, still hugging his precious camera to his
heart as he followed in Frank's wake.

The latter had made for the road in as direct a line as possible.
Progress was bound to be slow through the dense undergrowth, and the
sooner they struck the open the quicker they could hope to gain on the
thieves.

In this fashion they came upon the road at last. Of course, their eyes
immediately turned down its sinuous way to the quarter whence the
excitable popping sounds still continued to come.

The sight that met their eyes amazed them. All of the chums had
naturally expected that they would discover some mischievous school
companions, who, seeing them coming, had hatched up this little game
with the intention of playing a practical joke.

Nothing of the kind. On the contrary, they saw two of the motorcycles
bobbing along in the most erratic manner possible, moving from one side
of the rough road to the other, and mounted on the same were a couple of
roughly dressed men, either tramps, or journeymen on the road looking
for a job.

"Tell me about that, will you!" gasped Jerry.

"Why, the blooming idiots mean to steal our machines!" cried Bluff.

"Oh! what luck that I thought to take my camera with me!" came from
Will.

Frank only made one remark, but it was characteristic of the boy:

"After them, fellows!"

Then began a mad chase. Had the road been half-way decent, the boys
would have had no chance of overtaking the thieves; but those exposed
roots, while not bothersome to the lumbermen, proved extremely so to the
men who were trying to make off with the motorcycles.

They dared not put on great speed. More than this, much of their time
was taken up with dodging the stones and other things that threatened to
bring sudden disaster upon them.

Hence it was that the boys, having considerable sprinting ability,
began to rapidly overhaul the fleeing rascals. The two men dared not
cast a single glance behind, and consequently the only means they had of
knowing how close their pursuers might be would lie in any shouts given
by Frank and his chums.

As he ran, the leading boy cast an occasional look alongside the path.
He was in search of a good stout cudgel. Knowing that the chances were
the affair would presently come to a face-to-face issue between the two
parties, he wished to be prepared as well as possible.

"Bully stunt!" exclaimed Jerry as he followed suit.

They were now drawing close upon the fugitives, who were having a
nerve-racking time dodging those numerous roots.

Knowing that the angry owners of the wheels must be close upon them, the
men endeavored to increase their speed, with disastrous results.

"Wow!" shouted Jerry, as he saw one of the riders suddenly shoot out of
his saddle and take a header, to be followed by his companion a second
later.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10