The Boy Scouts in the Great Flood

CHAPTER XII.

WELL-EARNED PRAISE. “Well, your worst enemy now is a booster,” replied Hugh, smiling to see how the great change in the conditions was affecting Tip, who seemed to be smiling most all the time now. “It’s easy to see that you’re going to have smooth sailing here. Put your shoulder to the wheel, Tip, and never again allow yourself to give up to despair. Try and believe the sun is shining back of the clouds, and that it’s always darkest just before dawn.” “Dawn has come for us, I reckon, Hugh, and we owe the most of it to——” “There, I don’t want to listen to any talk like that, Tip. At least keep it until I’m back home in Oakvale. Then if you fellows here think I can give you any good advice, or help you to build up your troop, write me.” “You’ll hear from us, never fear,” said the other significantly, as though even then he had some vague idea in his mind as to the way in which he and his brother scouts of Lawrence Troop ought to suitably thank these two strangers for all they had done toward starting the ball rolling again. “We’re close to the river, Hugh!” sang out Monkey Stallings, “and, gee whiz! how it does seem to be booming along out there! Some current, that, let me tell you. Do you think we could work up against it if we had to, Hugh?” “Oh, I reckon we could,” the pilot replied carelessly, “though it’d be slow work, and if the engine took a notion to give out we’d have to get our anchor overboard in a hurry to hold fast. But so far as we know there’s no need of our trying such a risky thing as that.” “Why, look there, boys, isn’t that a house floating along, and bobbing up and down like a cork? Now she turns one way and then another. Some poor family has lost their home up above. It’s too bad, and I only hope they all managed to get safe to the hills before the cabin went. Oh! what’s that clinging to the roof? Seems to me it moved then! Yes, as sure as anything it’s alive!” As the scout in the bow made this loud outcry, the others all strained their eyes to see. Even Hugh diverted his attention from the steering gear and the working motor to look. “It’s a boy!” declared Tip Lange, almost immediately. “And the poor fellow looks like he would soon be tumbled into the river when that cabin takes a notion to turn all the way over!” added Billy. “Oh! what can we do?” cried Monkey, his voice filled with pity. “Hugh, would you dare chase after that floating house and try to rescue the poor chap?” Hugh had to think quickly when the question was put up to him in that way. Naturally his first impulse would be to say “go,” because he felt keenly for the desperate situation of that boy who dared not leave his floating refuge. It might be because he could not swim, and that raging torrent was enough to give the best swimmer reason for holding back. Still, Hugh had also to remember that it would be risking four lives for one if he decided to make the try. “We’ll save him if we can,” he said finally, after looking everything in the face. “If the current is too swift to let us get back again to-night, why what’s to hinder our tying up to the bank and waiting? There’ll be another day coming.” “Yes, and scouts ought to know how to rustle for grub at some house they’d find ashore,” added Billy, who, it may be remembered, was especially fond of hearing the dinner bell ring, or catching some other camp summons that told of a waiting meal. “Full speed ahead!” sang out Monkey, evidently entering into the spirit of the occasion with his customary zeal. The floating cabin had a pretty good start of them, Hugh knew, but once the launch had reached the river, and turned down, they must speedily overcome this lead. He had no fears about not being able to overtake the runaway cabin, though when they presently started with the speeding current their progress was so swift that it almost made one dizzy to watch the shore line, so rapidly did it seem to glide past. “We’re catching up hand over fist!” announced Monkey enthusiastically, from his post in the bow; but he no longer held this alone, since both Tip and Billy were crowded in alongside. “And he’s still hanging on!” announced the Lawrence scout. “Good for him, whoever the little chap is. I like his grit!” “Huh! I kind of guess he can’t do much else but hang on with all his might,” commented Billy. “There, didn’t you see him wave his hand at us then?” “He’s discovered us, all right,” observed Monkey, “and like as not it gives him a new lot of strength to know we’re heading after him, poor kid.” “Don’t forget to watch out for snags,” warned Hugh, “because going at this rate, if we ever banged into a log, it would be all up with the launch. And perhaps we’d be glad to climb up on that cabin roof with the boy.” “Whew! I hope we don’t come to that yet a while, Hugh!” said Monkey. “I’m keeping a bright lookout for any floaters all the time. It isn’t near as bad as if we were breasting the current, you know. Then they’d hit us a savage smash, while now we’re all going the same way, only we’re beating everything else out of sight.” Billy, seeing the imperiled boy once more waving his hand, took it upon himself to give him a return salute with his campaign hat. At the same time he let out a vigorous shout in hopes of cheering the poor castaway. Already they had gone a mile or so below the flooded town, but they were rapidly overhauling the floating cabin. “We’ll get him, don’t you fear,” Billy was saying, half to himself, as though he may have been doubtful up to then. “That cabin is going to behave, and not act like a bucking broncho to toss him off, even if it does lurch and bog something scandalous. Give him a cheer, boys, to hearten him more. Now, altogether!” So they ran down alongside the cabin. They had discovered some time back that their conclusion about its being a half-grown boy who was clinging to the roof of the floating house was correct. He looked peaked and white, indeed, though it could be seen that he was beginning to pluck up new courage as he saw them drawing ever nearer. “How’ll we get him aboard without running too much risk, Hugh?” asked Billy. “First get your rope ready,” the pilot told him. “Have a loop in the end just as you did for Miss Maria. Then when I pull alongside throw it up to him. Once he gets that loop under his arms, and we can be sure of drawing him aboard even if he happened to make a slip and fall overboard.” “I like the scheme, Hugh,” was the only comment Billy made as he hurriedly took up the accommodating clothes line, at the end of which he found the same running noose that had played such a prominent part in the saving of the little old maid who had persisted in clinging to her perch in the tree. “Guess I can fling it all right, even if the room isn’t all I’d like,” Billy remarked as he arranged the coils the way he had seen some Western cowboys do many a time in a Wild West show. “Please back off, Tip, and get on my other side. And, Monkey, hold the push pole out of the way when you hold off from the cabin. All ready here, Hugh. Bring her closer, will you?” Hugh was calculating the distance. He wanted to succeed in their present undertaking because that boy’s life was just as valuable as any other they had saved during the momentous day. At the same time Hugh did not wish to make any blunder apt to cost them dear. Billy saw his chance, and giving the necessary toss sent the coils of rope across the roof of the teetering cabin. “Get hold of that rope, and slip the loop under your arms!” he called out as loud as he could, for the water was making a lot of noise as it swirled about the cabin and the launch, forming fierce eddies and little whirlpools. The boy was not so badly frightened now. He could do what he was told, they saw with considerable relief. Had it been otherwise one of the rescuing party, perhaps the agile Monkey Stallings, would have been compelled to clamber up to the roof and have accomplished the dangerous work in that way. “Now, pull the noose tight!” continued Billy, when he saw the boy had followed out his command. “Make your way toward this end of the roof, and be ready to jump when I say so. Don’t be afraid of falling in; we’ve got the rope tight, and can yank you out of the river as quick as a flash if you should miss. Steady now, and it’s going to be as easy as falling off a log.” In this fashion, then, did Billy coax the boy to crawl along the reeling roof of the cabin until he had reached the edge. Then, when the right second came, and the building was inclined toward them, he suddenly called out: “Jump, boy, jump!” The lad had faith enough to believe what Billy so confidently told him. He sprang without hesitation, struck the edge of the launch, and then several eager hands seized upon him before he could fall back into the water. And as Hugh backed away from the tumbling cabin he joined his chums in letting out a loud shout that relieved their pent-up feelings as nothing else could have done. CHAPTER XII. WELL-EARNED PRAISE. It was just as Hugh had expected. The launch was turned so that her head pointed upstream again, but out there, in the middle of the river, the current proved to be so strong that, although the motor worked madly, they gained very little headway. Even when Hugh crept in closer to the shore, where they might have a better chance to proceed, he realized that it was hopeless trying to get back to town under several hours. As the night was now ready to close in upon them, the danger of meeting with an accident warned the careful pilot against attempting anything like this. “Keep on the lookout for a good tying-up place, boys,” he told them. “If you see a tree close to the water, and what looks like a little cove below it, that’s the spot we want to stop at.” “And let’s hope,” added Billy, sighing, “that there’ll be a hospitable farmer, or some sort of kind-hearted man with a house up on the hillside where we can beg a bite to eat.” “There are all sorts of pots and pans and kitchen things aboard,” Monkey told them, “if only we can lay hold of anything to cook.” “Leave that to me,” remarked Billy loftily, determination written on his face. The landing was effected without any particular trouble, and with the cable they tied the launch up to the friendly tree, as well as made the boat fast astern. Billy hardly waited for this to be done before he was off. Evidently he had discovered that they were close to the river road, at this point well elevated. Tip had told him that people lived here and there all along this thoroughfare, although very likely they could not get anywhere now, with the water so high, for in places the road must be covered ten feet or more with the flood. The night began to creep around them, but there was no rain, for which all of them thought they had reason to be thankful. Upon questioning the boy who had been taken off the floating cabin, Hugh learned just how it happened that he came there. He had been away from home when his folks must have fled because of the rising water. Coming back later he had not known what to do, but remained cowering in the home until the rising water caused him to take to the roof. And later on, when the current started the cabin downstream, there he was helpless, because he did not know the first thing about swimming. “You’d have known that at any rate if you’d been a scout,” Hugh told him, always ready to plant the seed broadcast, “though that mightn’t have helped you much. It was lucky you stuck to the cabin. We’ll see that you get back with your folks all right, Tommy, never fear. I’m only wondering what your mother will be thinking when she misses you.” “There comes Billy!” cried Monkey Stallings, excitedly. “Say, he looks as if he might be just loaded down with stuff. Chances are he found a deserted house, and made a raid on the pantry.” “That’s where you’ve got another guess coming,” said Billy Worth, as he started to relieve himself of his numerous packages. “By the greatest good luck in the wide world I hit on the house of a gentleman named Judge Coffin. Seems that he’s been one of your best backers, Tip, here in Lawrence. When he heard what the scouts had been doing he told me the house was mine, and that I could have anything I wanted. Fact is, he loaded me down with good things; and he’s coming over here to eat dinner with us in an hour!” Tip threw up his hat and crowed as though he might be an exultant barnyard rooster that had just whipped his worst enemy. “Oh! what luck!” he exclaimed. “Everything seems to be coming my way. I think you Oakvale fellows must have brought it along with you. ‘It never rains but it pours,’ and I don’t care if I haven’t any umbrella either. Let’s get busy and give the judge the best camp supper he ever heard about.” “We can do that, too, Tip,” intimated Monkey. “This fellow Billy Worth has all the French chefs beat to a frazzle when he gets to slinging the pots and pans around. You’ll think so after you get a whiff of his cooking.” “That’s a whole lot taffy, and don’t you take any stock in it, Tip,” protested the said Billy. “Course I like to cook some, and, if I do say it myself, I know how to do a few plain things fairly decent. But we’ll all lend a hand. Here, Monkey, you start the ball rolling by peeling these potatoes, while I look after the fire aboard the boat, for everything is soaked out here.” The owner of the launch must have delighted to take little excursions on his boat, for he had everything on board that would be needed for getting up a meal, even to a three-burner blue-flame kerosene stove that worked splendidly, Billy soon discovered. In spite of all they had gone through, the boys entered into the duty of getting up that supper with the greatest of vim. And when later on an elderly gentleman, whom Tip introduced to them as Judge Coffin, made his appearance, he found the meal ready to be served. He was a man whose heart had always remained fresh, and who loved boys, although his twin sons had been cruelly taken from him years before through an accident, simply because no one with them had known the first thing about reviving a person who had been in the water until he seemed to be drowned. Judge Coffin firmly believed that had the comrades of his boys been posted as all scouts of to-day are on these important methods of resuscitation, one or both of his precious twins might have been spared to him. And that was the secret of his belief in the scout movement as a means of saving life. There on board the launch, and while enjoying such a supper as he had not sat down to for many years, no doubt—primitive though the table and the tin dishes may have been—he listened while the scouts modestly told what a great day they had had. And, reading between the lines, that astute lawyer could easily understand how the coming of Hugh Hardin to Lawrence just when the breaking down of the railroad embankment brought about his enforced stay there had been the main cause for all this service on the part of the local scouts. How his eyes shone as he looked fondly at the boy who had dashed upon the imperiled bridge and saved the reckless bully, Tug Wilson, as Tip persisted in telling the story, despite Hugh’s remonstrance and embarrassed manner. No doubt Judge Coffin was saying, deep down in his heart, that had his boys only lived he could not wish anything grander for either of them than that they might take pattern after this brave yet modest scout from Oakvale. Long he lingered—indeed, it seemed hard work for the worthy gentleman to tear himself away from the company of those four gallant boys. “Have no fear, Tipton,” he said, as he shook the hand of each after bidding them “good-night” for the third time, “there are bright days ahead for you and your comrades of Lawrence Troop. When such a scout hater as Neighbor Jasper has had the scales lifted from his eyes, all opposition is bound to cease. A reaction is going to set in, and you’ll have more recruits applying for admission to your ranks than you can well take care of.” All of the scouts voted the judge one of the finest men they had ever met. He seemed to have a faculty for entering into the inmost recesses of a boy’s heart, and finding lodgment there. “How are we going to manage for to-night?” asked Tip Lange, some time after the judge had taken his departure, and they began to feel more or less sleepy. It turned out that the Lawrence scout had had very little experience in camping. He and his comrades of the local troop had met with so many backsets in their efforts to build up an enduring organization that their outings had been few and unhappy. Hugh had been thinking this over himself, and now expressed his views. “I suppose we might manage to sleep aboard the launch, though it would be a tight squeeze for us all. Two might do it comfortably, and the others camp ashore.” “What’s to hinder all of us spending the night here on the bank?” asked Tip; “I know I’d enjoy it a whole lot better than being cooped up on the old launch.” “My sentiments exactly,” declared Billy; “and to tell you the truth I’m getting so sleepy right now I hardly care where I drop down, so long as I’m let alone.” “How about you, Monkey?” demanded Hugh. “Oh, all I need is a tree with a decent limb to the same! You know I’m something like a bat or a ’possum, and I c’n hang head-down from a branch without any bother. Count me in any game you’ve got on the calendar.” “That’s settled, then,” asserted Hugh. “There are some blankets and robes in the lockers of the boat, you know,” suggested Billy, as he scrambled to his feet to stretch himself before starting aboard the launch again. When a thorough search had been made it was found that there were plenty of covers for the entire quartet. “Couldn’t be better if we’d planned for this little camping trip,” remarked Monkey, as he began to look around for a good place in which to make up his bed, such as it was going to be. “The song of the flooded river will be a regular lullaby,” suggested Hugh. “It may be to you fellows,” observed Tip; “but I own up that I’m not used to going to sleep in the open, and it’s likely to keep me awake. If I do manage to drop off, the chances are I’ll dream of poor people hanging to the roofs of houses that are floating down the river and falling to pieces.” “You can stand it for one night, though, Tip,” Billy told him. “Besides, it’s going to be an experience for you worth having,” Monkey told him. “When you meet your chums again you can crow over them.” “That’s right,” admitted Tip, as he watched closely to see how the others fixed their blankets, so that he could imitate them. “One good thing,” remarked Billy, after another tremendous yawn, “this isn’t like being up in the wild woods where a bear or a panther might take a notion to drop in on us.” Hugh knew that Billy was saying this to get an opinion from some of the others. Perhaps he was feeling a trifle uneasy over sleeping there in the open. “I don’t think there’s any danger of our camp being invaded by an animal more dangerous than a wandering cow that might have got lost in all the excitement,” Hugh assured him. Billy seemed to be satisfied with that convincing statement, for presently he crawled under his blanket. “Good-night, fellows!” he said in a thick voice as if already half asleep. Tip looked as though he really envied Billy his indifference. Just as he had said it would very likely prove a difficult task for the new camper to lose himself in slumber. Hugh waited until all the others had apparently settled down. There was the fire to look after, for with so much dampness in the air he did not think it advisable to let it go out entirely. That was where his long experience in camping would prove valuable, for Hugh knew just how to arrange the fire so that it would burn for hours at a stretch without needing replenishing. Finally he, too, crawled under his coverings and settled down as best he could to get some sleep, of which they were all in such need. They had had a pretty lively day of it considering, and it was little wonder Hugh felt more or less tired. The noisy flood might continue to boom and gurgle as it rushed along near by, but that would not keep the patrol leader from slumber. Many times in the past he had experienced worse conditions and refused to be kept awake. The last thing he remembered noticing was the crackling fire sending its red tongues upward as it seized upon the fresh fuel. Hugh awoke with a start, and no wonder. Someone was calling aloud, and the burden of his cries were of a nature to cause alarm: “Hugh! oh! Hugh, wake up! There’s something raiding our camp! It tried to carry me off!” That was Billy whooping it up, as Hugh discovered when he rolled out of his blanket. Monkey Stallings was already on his feet, being a wonderfully agile chap. He had looked around in his quick fashion, and not discovering any terrible tiger or other beast of prey in sight, naturally turned on the disturber of his peace. “You’ve gone and got the nightmare, that’s what’s the matter, Billy Worth!” he told the other. “It’s a nice state of affairs when a fellow can’t get his sleep out. I knew you’d pay for eating so much supper. You just dreamed it all. I’d like to see what’d try to carry you off!” Billy, however, was firmly convinced that it had not been a dream but a positive reality. “Guess I ought to know,” he declared; “didn’t I feel it lifting me up, and growling like everything in the bargain? First I was scared so I seemed to be turned into ice. Then I let out that first whoop.” “Oh, then it ran away, did it?” sneered the unbelieving Monkey. “Just what it did,” asserted Billy. “Did you see it, Billy?” asked Hugh, determined to sift this midnight alarm to the bottom while about it. “Why, Hugh,” Billy went on to say, “I had a little trouble getting my cover away from my face, for I’d snuggled down in the same to keep my head warm. But as sure as I’m standing here, Hugh, I saw the bushes moving over there, like some terrible animal had gone that way. Let’s throw some stones and scare him off!” “No need of that,” said Hugh, with a chuckle, as he picked up a club and then started directly toward the quarter pointed out by Billy. “Take care, Hugh, or he might get you!” warned Monkey, at the same time casting about for the duplicate of the cudgel the patrol leader had taken as a weapon of defense. “Shoo!” cried Hugh, waving his arms vigorously as he approached the bushes. As though that cry and the accompanying movement had broken the spell of silence there came a whole chorus of grunts both big and little. There was also a great scurrying of feet, together with squeals that could have but one meaning to the scouts. “Pigs!” gasped Billy, as a mother sow followed by half a dozen little porkers started off in a panic, rushing pell-mell away, and followed by the mocking shouts of Monkey Stallings. “So that’s your tiger, is it, Billy?” he demanded as he prepared to once more crawl into his coverings; “Well, you certainly have got the liveliest imagination of any fellow I ever met. The idea of taking a poor old mother hog with her litter of suckling pigs for a monster trying to carry you off.” “Well, she did root under my blanket, I tell you,” Billy insisted; “and being waked up so suddenly, how could I tell the difference between a grunt and a growl? I only hope she stays away the rest of the night and lets a poor tired scout get his regular sleep.” Apparently it would require much more than an occurrence of this sort to keep Billy wakeful. Inside of ten minutes Hugh could hear his regular breathing, from which he concluded the other was again off to the land of dreams. The balance of the night passed without any further alarm. Perhaps Tip did not secure much sleep, and was the happiest fellow in the party to see the gray dawn coming in the east. Still, it had been a great experience for Tip, and one he would not soon forget. All of the boys were soon up and doing. While two of them saw to it that the blankets and other coverings were returned to the launch, the others looked after the preparations for their morning meal which, thanks to the generous judge, would not be as primitive as it might have been. After they had eaten breakfast, the start was made up the current. Monkey had been smart enough to fix some sort of tally so as to know how high the river rose while they slept. “Just seven inches, fellows,” he had announced the first thing; and then, as the expedition was about to leave their moorings, Monkey declared with considerable delight: “Would you believe it, the water is actually going down ! Sure it is, for here you can see where the stick is wet for an inch above the level!” “Bully!” cried Tip. “Things will soon be on the mend, and poor old Lawrence will get back to looking like it was before the flood, all but our bridge, which is gone where the woodbine twineth.” “Never mind about that,” said Billy, “so long as none of your folks went downstream with it.” They found it slow work breasting the current, but then, as a rift appeared in the leaden clouds overhead, everyone was soon feeling greatly encouraged. “There’s the judge waving to us!” said Tip, and of course everyone hastened to reply to the salutation from the high ground back of which the home of their good friend lay, safe from danger. All through that day the scouts found plenty to do with the launch. And many a mother and father had reason to thank them warmly for attentions received that were doubly welcome in such a time of stress. Hugh kept his word and saw to it that Tommy was safely returned to his family, thus relieving the fears of the father and mother, who had begun to believe the little fellow had been drowned. As there still seemed to be no way of getting back home unless they went by aëroplane, Hugh and Billy and Monkey had to remain over for another day or so, nor did they feel sorry that this happened. Monkey had interested his uncle in his two chums so that nothing would do but they must be his guests while in town. Tip Lange felt somewhat disappointed for he had hoped to coax them to go home with him. But on the second day word came that the repairs had progressed so far with the washed portions of the railroad embankment that a train would pass through Lawrence early that afternoon bound east. It was at the station, as our three young friends, together with Tip Lange, Wash Bradford, Teddy McQuade, and Wallie Cramer, were waiting for the train to appear that quite a crowd of older people, as well as all the rest of the Boy Scouts in town surprised them. At the head of the delegation was the worthy Mayor of Lawrence. When Hugh saw them coming he began to show signs of uneasiness; but there was no place to which he could retreat, nor would the other fellows allow it. And so he had to stand there and listen to as neat a flood of oratory as could be imagined, as the Mayor told him, and his two chums in the bargain, that they carried away from Lawrence the best wishes of all those who dwelt there. “Your visit was in the nature of an inspiration,” the Mayor wound up with. “It has certainly put new life into our local troop of scouts. We owe you more than mere words can tell, and in leaving us we want you to know that you will never be forgotten. Your noble work here in the time of our tribulation will always stand as a living example of what Boy Scouts can accomplish when their hearts are in the cause.” Fortunately the coming of the train allowed Hugh to escape without making a reply to this flood of praise that came straight from the heart of the speaker. And the last they saw of the Lawrence scouts they were lined up and giving their comrades from Oakvale the grand salute, with Tip Lange at their head. Later on Hugh heard from the boys, and was delighted to know that the troop was flourishing like a green bay tree. There arrived at Hugh’s home a loving cup purchased by donations from scores of Lawrence citizens, and which was accompanied by a letter which might well cause the recipients to feel proud they had been given an opportunity to be of service to the victims of the Great Flood. If you want to know what undertaking next employed the attention of these wide-awake Oakvale lads, read the succeeding volume, entitled: “ The Boy Scouts of the Field Hospital .” THE END. Transcriber’s Notes Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication. Silently corrected palpable typos (including once exchanging the order of two entire lines); left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged. In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE GREAT FLOOD *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. 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