The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron | Page 3

my latest wonder. Yes, and as sure as anything, I can
hear the singing of that little waterfall just below the big spring."
"It seems to tell me that I'm thirsty enough to stop and get a drink
before going on. The shack lies just back of that screen of trees and
bushes, anyway," Hugh remarked, as he turned slightly aside and
headed directly toward the quarter from whence that melodious song
arose.
Apparently Bud was of the same mind, for he instantly followed suit. In
another minute both scouts had deposited their packs on the hard
ground and were kneeling at the rim of the little basin where the clear
water, bubbling up from the sand, ran away in a busy stream that as yet
had not felt the chilling hand of Jack Frost.
Each boy produced a collapsible metal cup with which he could dip
into the sparkling spring. This is a much better way than bending down
and sucking in great quantities of water, without knowing what
impurities may be swallowed. Some scouts on their tramps even carry a
small filtering stone such as is used in the army, and this is considered
a wise precaution by thoughtful scout masters.
"Well, that tastes pretty fine," remarked Bud, after he had drunk his fill
and carefully replaced his cup in its receptacle; "and now to get under
cover. I reckon the very first thing we ought to attend to is getting a
supply of wood indoors, so as to make the old shanty feel comfortable.
I never think of a camp without seeing a camp fire as the best thing in it.
It is that that binds scouts together more than any other part of the
outdoor game, I think. Does it strike you that way, too, Hugh?"

"Yes, I came to that conclusion," replied the leader of the Wolf patrol,
"after watching how anxious the boys always were to get plenty of fuel
ready long before night came. Then you know a fire stands for grub
time, too, and that always appeals to scouts who have done lots of
things during the day to tire themselves out."
"That's so, I've had heaps of fun just watching Billy Worth's eyes dance
while he hauled firewood into camp. With every armful he seemed to
be saying, 'There, that's going to help cook our supper to-night! And
we're going to have fried onions, and potatoes and ham omelette!' I had
half a notion to ask Billy to come along with us on this trip, but
somehow I hated to think of the fun he'd poke at me in case my
wonderful invention turned out to be a fizzle, like so many of them
have in the past. I knew you wouldn't give me away, Hugh, if that
happened,---and if I lived to tell the tale! Well, I hope I can get my
pack on my back again for the last hundred feet; but it comes harder
every time. Thanks awfully for the poke, Hugh; it did the business.
Now I'm in harness and ready to go on."
The two weary scouts staggered more or less as they started to push
through the last barrier of trees and brush. They knew that they would
speedily discover the long deserted shack there among the second
growth thicket of young trees. Indeed, it was hardly half a minute later
when Bud came to a sudden halt, at the same time saying in a hoarse
whisper:
"Hugh, look there, will you? There's a light in the shanty! What do you
think of the meanness of that? After we've come all the way up here
just to keep to ourselves, then to find somebody camping on the ground!
Shucks! It makes me feel as if it was a bad omen, and right in the start,
too!"
CHAPTER II
A CAMP SUPPER
The two boys stood there looking for a full minute. Hugh had
discovered the presence of a light in the cabin about the same time that

Bud mentioned the fact. It could be seen shining through the aperture
that had once been used as a window. There was no glass in this now,
and a heavy shutter, hung on rusty hinges, gave the only means of
keeping out the cold air, though this had not been closed by the
unknown party within.
"Whoever can it be?" muttered the disgusted Bud, doubtless
begrudging that long tramp from the road where the friendly farmer had
dropped them.
"Perhaps some one who's thinking of using the old shanty as
headquarters while trapping this season," Hugh replied. "You know
Ralph Kenyon used to take quite a lot of pelts around this region before
he joined the scouts and changed his mind about that sort of thing."
"Then you don't think