CHAPTER VIII

PLANS OF CAMPAIGN

Gee whiz, I can be sober when I have to. I could see all right enough that we had a chance to do something big. I wasn’t going to start fooling about it. I knew if old Mr. Bagley’s last will was in that chasm and we could find it, _oh boy_, there would be some excitement. His son would get all that land that Temple Camp wanted and he would sell it to Mr. Temple. You can see where _we_ would fit in--_oh boy_! Talk about good turns!

“There are only two things bothering me,” I said.

“There are six things bothering me,” Dub said, “and all of them _when are we going to eat and if so, what_?”

“Those are the same twenty things that are bothering me,” Sandy said.

I said, “Pee-wee can’t even speak, he’s starving to death.”

All of a sudden the kid piped up, “The reason I don’t speak is because I’m disgusted----”

“Good,” I said, “I hope you’ll be disgusted for the rest of your life.”

“If I kept on going around with you I’d be disgusted twice at the same time,” he said.

“Fancy that,” I said to him. “If you don’t like going around with us, you can go my way and I’ll go yours.”

“You start out in the morning,” he shouted, “without any lunch and look where we are now, with no village anywhere around and nothing to eat.”

“Do you expect me to get a village and bring it here?” I asked him. “Is it my fault there isn’t any village here? Did I make the map of the Catskill Mountains? I’ll leave it to Dub. We’re having a fine hike with detours. What are you kicking about?”

“I can’t eat detours!” the kid shouted.

“Well you couldn’t eat a village either,” I said; “so what are you talking about?”

“Will you fellows listen?” Dub said. “For just two seconds will you listen? We’ve got a big chance, haven’t we? We’ve got a chance to do something that will knock Temple Camp off its feet. Suppose we can find that will! First will somebody please tell me what one of those dispatch containers is like. I’d like to know whether one would last all this while--whether it would be preserved.”

“If you’re talking about preserves,” I said, “you’d better ask Pee-wee. He knows all about preserves.”

“Are you going to be serious when there’s a real mystery or not?” the kid yelled. “Now we’ve got a chance to do something, are you going to have some sense or not? Are we going to get something to eat I don’t know how, and are we going to try to find that oilskin cover or whatever you call it, or are we just going to stay here talking crazy and acting like fools--which?”

“We are going to plan our campaign at once, ain’t it,” I told him. “The answer is no we do, _by an unanimous minority_.”

“Listen,” said Sandy, kind of sober like. “It’s noon-time and we thought that by this time we’d be at a village or some place or other. We’ve got a chance to do something big. Are we just going to fool around or what? I’d like to hunt for that thing, only we’ve got to have something to eat, that’s sure.”

“It’s even more than sure, it’s absolutely positive,” Pee-wee piped up.

I said, “All right then, listen----”

“Are you going to be serious?” Pee-wee shouted.

“Now listen,” I said, “and no more fooling. Hunting for that thing means work. You don’t think we can go down there and just pick it up, do you? All right then. How about eats? There are a lot of things to be considered if we’re going to do this and what we need first of all is a leader----”

“I thought you were going to say that,” Pee-wee shouted.

“You wanted me to be serious, didn’t you?” I said. “All right then, listen. I’m willing to hunt for that oilskin container, only if we do we’re going to do it right. We’re going to start out like Columbus did, only different.”

“There you go,” Pee-wee shouted.

“All right,” I said. “We’re at Beaver Chasm, aren’t we. And it’s time for lunch. We’re about two miles from Bagley Center and we’re about five miles from camp. How long can we hold out without eats?”

“Maybe five minutes,” Dub said.

“Maybe three at a pinch,” Sandy said.

“I can’t hold out at all,” Pee-wee piped up; “not even at a pinch.”

“A fine lot of Scouts!” I said. “Now I’ll show you what a fine Scout I am. The brook down there in the chasm has run dry but there will be water standing in pools between the rocks and all places like that. Further along is a place they call the Giant’s Basin--all rock. There will be water in there, I bet you. And that’s just where all the fish go when the brook runs dry. I bet in places down there we’ll be able to scoop them up in our hands--please shut up till I finish.”

“This is what I say let’s do. Let’s go down in the chasm and find a hollow place where some fish are and let’s scoop some up and cook them--I’ve got some matches.”

“I can even get a light from the sun,” Pee-wee said, all excited.

“The sun is too far to go for a light,” I told him. “Even if you went scout pace you wouldn’t get back in time for lunch. After we’ve had something to eat----”

“That shows you how we’ve got resources,” Pee-wee said. He was talking for the benefit of Dub and Sandy because they were new fellows at camp.

“Sure,” I said, “and we can fry some resources or boil them in ice water. I say let’s _eat_ and after that let’s hike back to camp and get permission to start out again to-morrow and camp for a couple of days in the chasm. We can bring a tent and some provisions and everything and we won’t say anything to any one why we’re going to do it and if we find that oilskin container we’ll be the big noise at Temple Camp. Now that’s the way I say to do. We’ll go back this afternoon and get ready for to-morrow and you fellows can leave it to me about getting permission to come back and camp here.”

“Do you promise you won’t let any other Scouts in on it?” Pee-wee asked me, all excited. “Now’s our chance, if we only keep still!”

I had to laugh, Pee-wee talking about keeping still.