Part 6 (1/2)
Their manner of march was about like this: Elmer went in front, breaking a way, as it might be described, and his was the eye that had to pick the course, avoiding all the difficult drifts as much as possible, though heading into the near-northwest as arranged at the time they laid their plans.
Immediately after him came Toby, puffing like a porpoise at times, being short of breath; and occasionally floundering about when he lost his footing or made a miscalculation.
On his heels George plodded along, looking this way and that, ever ready to call to Elmer did he but discover a moving, dun-colored object that might turn out to be the deer they had missed.
Lil Artha brought up the rear, though with those long waders of his it must have been an easy task for him to have taken the lead, since they seemed particularly adapted for carrying their owner through floods of snow or water. Lil Artha kept his gun ready at all times. If game that had been made to hide because of the coming of Elmer attempted to slink away later on, the tall scout was on hand, ready to take advantage of the first opportunity.
So far nothing had rewarded their vigilance, much to their keen disappointment. That there was game to be found in the forest they did not question; but after such a heavy fall of snow it wisely remained in den or hollow tree, waiting for a change in the weather before venturing forth. Hunger would eventually compel most of the animals that did not hibernate like the bear to issue forth and seek their accustomed food; but they could abstain for days, and meanwhile what was to become of the four scouts?
As they moved along the stillness was disturbed by the noisy cawing of a flock of crows that seemed to be disputing some matter. Often had the boys watched the queer actions of crows when holding what Toby called a ”cawcus,” as though trying one of their number that had been caught doing something unfair, according to crow laws; but never had they antic.i.p.ated they would begin to observe the noisy black fellows with hungry eyes.
”If it comes to the worst, crow mightn't go so _very_ bad,” suggested Lil Artha.
”Well, we haven't got to that point yet, remember!” hastily cried George. ”I'm willing to stand for nearly anything, but eating crow is too, too much. What d'ye take us for, Lil Artha; think we're a bunch of defeated politicians, do you, that have to pay an election wager? No crow for me until I'm at the last gasp. Get out, you black rascals;” and he waved his arms in order to make them fly before Lil Artha could conclude to fire his gun.
CHAPTER VI
IN THE FROZEN MARSH
PERHAPS it was just as well that the crows took the alarm, and flew noisily away. If Lil Artha had taken a shot at them and secured one or more, there might have been a peck of trouble, not only for the crows but some of the scouts as well.
They pushed on for some little time after this in silence. Elmer was constantly on the watch for a possible camping spot. He hardly expected they would be as highly favored as on the preceding night; but then, as no storm threatened, this was not absolutely necessary. He antic.i.p.ated that they would be able to put up some sort of barrier to keep the keen wind off, clear a place of snow, and do the best possible with what they found.
”Looks like we might be on the border of a sort of marsh,” suggested Lil Artha, as he made an extra effort, and caught up with the plodding leader.
”Yes, I began to notice that about ten minutes ago,” replied Elmer.
”I only mention the fact,” continued the lanky scout, ”because it strikes me that several times when Toby read out long descriptive letters he had from his uncle up here the old gentleman told of getting some of his best views when lying out in a marsh, and watching the little animals play tag, or some game like that, build their nests, and have their sc.r.a.ps. Am I right about that, Elmer?”
”Yes, and I can see what you're hinting at, Lil Artha. You've got an idea this may be that marsh?”
”Correct!” admitted the tall scout.
”And that if we've finally managed to work around, and strike Uncle Caleb's favorite stamping grounds, there's a pretty good chance the cabin can't be a great ways off?” Elmer concluded, while his words brought vigorous nods of approval from the other.
”Wish we could set up a holler that'd reach him!” ventured Lil Artha.
”We might try a few shots and see if they had any result, though I'd rather wait till dark before doing that,” the scout master remarked, thoughtfully.
Lil Artha pondered over this for a minute before he made any further remark.
”I reckon you mean you still hope we might run foul of some sort of game that would give us a supper?” he finally observed.
”Well, here's the marsh, and while the snow is deep in most places, we might manage to run across one of their queer little winter houses, you know.”
Lil Artha must have been thinking along the same lines as Elmer, if one could judge from the rapidity with which he took the other up.
”You mean muskrats, don't you, Elmer?”
”Just what I do,” came the reply. ”Beggars mustn't be choosers, they say; and it looks like that, or go hungry to-night, because we haven't got enough stuff on hand for two, much less four.”