The Boy Scouts First Camp Fire | Page 3

to former scenes, and he longed to return to
Maine again.
Here then was the complete roster of the Silver Fox Patrol of Cranford
Troop, as called by the secretary, Bob White, at each and every
meeting.
1. Thad Brewster, Patrol Leader, and Assistant Scout-Master.
2. Allan Hollister, upon whom the responsibility rested after Thad.

3. Cornelius Hawtree.
4. Robert Quail White.
5. Edmund Maurice Travers Smith.
6. Conrad Stedman.
7. Davy Jones.
8. Stephen Bingham.
Of course, as the rules of the organization provided, there was a
genuine scout-master to accompany the boys when possible, and look
after their moral welfare; as well as act as a brake upon the natural
exuberance of their spirits. This was a young man who was studying
medicine with Dr. Calkins in the town of Cranford. Frequently the
clever young M.D. could not keep his appointments with his boys; at
such times he had to delegate to Thad his duties. And to tell the truth
when they learned that as the elder doctor was sick himself, their
scout-master would be unable to accompany them on this, their first
real hike and outing, none of the scouts felt very sorry.
"Pretty near time we started again for the lake, isn't it, Thad?"
demanded Step-hen, something like an hour after they had stopped to
break the march with a bite and a cool drink.
"Oh! please let me finish this little grub," called out Giraffe, who was
tremendously fond of eating; "it's a shame to waste it. You stopped me
from making a fire you know, Thad; and I fell behind the rest of you
that way."
"I never saw such a fellow, always crazy to set fire to things," remarked
Davy Jones. "He'll burn the whole world up some day."
"I expect to set the river on fire when I get in business," grinned
Giraffe.
"Give the signal to fall in, Mr. Bugler--but I say, where is Bumpus

anyway?" asked the acting scout-master, looking around.
"Oh! he went wandering away some time ago," remarked Davy. "But
here's his horn; let's see if I can blow the old thing."
He put the shining instrument to his lips, puffed out his cheeks, and
emitted a frightful groaning sound. The rest of the scouts had just
started to laugh when there came a strange, rattling noise from the
woods near by, as though a landslide might be in progress. And
accompanying the racket they heard a feeble voice that must belong to
Bumpus, though no one recognized it, calling out:
"Help! help! Oh, somebody come quick, and save me!"
With that call every member of the scout patrol leaped erect, staring at
one another in dismay.
CHAPTER II.
THE PRISONER OF THE TREE STUMP.
"Oh! perhaps a wolf has got poor Bumpus!" exclaimed Smithy, who
had never had any real experience in the woods, and was therefore a
genuine "greenhorn" scout.
"Or a bear!" suggested Step-hen.
Thad was not the one to stand and speculate, when a comrade appeared
to be in deep trouble, so he immediately cried out:
"Get your staves, and come along, everybody; no; you stay with our
knapsacks, to guard them, Bob White. This may be some trick of Brose
Griffin and his cronies to steal our stuff. This way, the rest of you,
boys!"
"Hurrah!" shouted Step-hen, showing great animation; but cautiously
falling in the rear of the procession that went rushing into the depths of
the woods.

"Which way did it come from, Thad?" asked Smithy; who, despite his
girl-like neatness of person and belongings, and dainty ways, was close
to the leader, his face whiter than usual, but his eyes flashing with
unaccustomed fire.
"I think over in this direction," said Davy Jones, before the leader could
reply.
"Listen!" commanded Thad, as he held up his hand, bringing them all
to a halt. Straining their ears, each scout tried to catch some sound that
would give him the privilege of being the first to point to the spot
where Bumpus was in sore need of assistance.
"I think I heard a groan!" remarked Step-hen, in an awe-struck voice,
that trembled in spite of his effort to seem brave.
"So did I," declared Allan; "and it was over yonder to the left."
Accordingly the six boys went helter-skelter into the underbrush,
making all the noise an elephant might in pushing through the woods.
Perhaps it was only the result of their eagerness to reach the companion,
who seemed to be in trouble; and then again, a racket like that might
frighten away any wild beast that had attempted to carry their stout
bugler away.
"Stop again, and listen," said Thad, half a minute later. "We must be
near the place where that groan came from. Hear it again, anybody?"
"Help! oh, help! they're eating