“You mean, do you, Rob,” interrupted the listening Andy, who had not had the same good fortune as the others to see some of the fighting across in Belgium and Northern France, “that even while the Dominion is being shaken from east to west, right here along the border it’s just as it always was?”
“Well, hardly that,” continued the other hastily. “You know there have been all sorts of stories in the papers about plots hatched and engineered in the States by those whose sympathies are with Germany, and who feel furious because of the never-ending trains loaded with munitions, soldiers, food, aeroplane parts, motor trucks, and such things that an army in the field would require – these all heading across Canada, and aiming for the ports where steamers are waiting to carry cargoes to Great Britain. It would make these German sympathizers joyous if only something might happen to cut off this endless chain of supplies for the Allies.”
“Yes,” added Tubby eagerly. “I’ve read where the folks down in Washington are dreadfully alarmed lest one of these terrible schemes may succeed. You recall how the President enjoined everybody in the States to be strictly neutral, and not to lift a hand toward doing anything that might be reckoned an unfriendly or unneighborly act by the aroused people of Canada? So now the Government on both sides is keeping an extra guard along the border, in order to nip any such black scheme in the bud.”
“I’ve been told that’s the case,” Rob assured them. The talk went on along the same lines until finally the scout master, jumping up, announced:
“Well, we’ve rested long enough, I guess! We’d better put our best foot forward if we hope to get anywhere near that logging camp close to the border. So pick up your packs, fellows, and we’ll be off!”
“Oh, listen to that, would you!” cried Tubby excitedly. “It sounded just like the far-away whistle of a railroad locomotive.”
“A good guess, Tubby,” chuckled Andy, “because that’s just what it was. I half expected you’d ask Rob if it could be the scream of one of those Canadian lynx we’ve heard tell about are to be found up here.”
They were conversing while walking, and once again the whistle sounded. Even Tubby could tell now that it came from the northwest. There was also a faint rumbling sound that indicated the passage of a heavy train over a trestle, miles away.
“Yes, the Great Canadian Railway runs close to the boundary along here somewhere,” Rob said, “and I suppose we’ll often hear distant whistles, for the traffic at present must be unusually heavy. That’s likely a long train filled with grain, and all sorts of valuable supplies that are being sent from the rich Saskatchewan and Alberta country, as an offering from the Canadian Northwest granary. It means another nail in the coffin of the Germans, when it reaches the land across the sea. All day long, and night, too, at intervals, those trains are running, carrying millions and millions of dollars’ worth of supplies.”
“Huh!” chuckled Tubby, “if a German only chanced to live around here, he’d have to stuff cotton in his ears to shut out the sound; because each rumble of trains would mean to him more trouble for his friends across the sea.”
They pushed on for some time. Rob evidently had his plan of campaign well figured out, for he now turned sharply to the left and headed almost due west. Apparently he fancied he was as near the International Boundary as there might be any need of going; and that the lone logging camp must lie farther along the new course.
The startling idea had occurred to Tubby that, all unbeknown to themselves, they might inadvertently stray across the line, and be arrested as invaders, by some of those alert Canadian guards mentioned by Rob. The thought disturbed him considerably, and he was about to speak of it, despite the jeers with which he felt sure Andy would greet the idea, when something else suddenly came to pass that completely put it out of his head.
There was a crashing sound heard close by, a swishing of the undergrowth, and then a bounding object flashed into view, which took on the shape of a two-year-old buck, leaping frantically over logs and bushes, as though possessed. Upon his neck and shoulders the boys glimpsed a strange, mysterious gray hunch!
CHAPTER II
RUMBLINGS OF COMING TROUBLE
“Oh! Did you see that hump on his back, Rob? What could it have been?” gasped Tubby, gripping the sleeve of the other’s khaki coat in his excitement.
“Why, Tubby, don’t you know that was the pirate of the northern woods?” cried the equally aroused Andy, who had also been stupefied while the little drama was being enacted, and only recovered the use of his hands, and realized that he was carrying a gun, when the leaping buck had completely vanished from view.
“Do you mean a filibuster?” asked the stout boy incredulously.
“Well, yes; you might call a panther by that name,” laughed Rob.
“A panther!” echoed Tubby, thrilled more than ever. “Was that what the bunch across the poor deer’s shoulders was, Rob? Oh, to think we didn’t get a chance to use a gun and save the noble buck!”
“It all happened too fast for me,” admitted Andy dejectedly. “Besides, I don’t believe any of us could have hit that crouching beast and not harmed the deer.”
“No, that’s right, Andy,” said Rob convincingly. “After all, we only chanced to see one of the woods tragedies that are taking place right along. Panthers must have meat to live on, and deer are their legitimate prey. That’s why there’s never a close season on the gray buccaneers, nor on wildcats and wolves.”
Tubby did not express any timidity in words, but it might have been noticed how he somehow managed to keep a bit closer to his chums after that. If there were such savage “varmints” at large in the country along the International Boundary, Tubby did not think it wise to take any unnecessary chances; not that he would have admitted being afraid, of course; but then, as he always said, he offered a shining mark, because a discriminating beast was sure to pick out a plump morsel when foraging for a dinner, and consequently lucky Andy would get off scot-free.
They continued to walk on in a clump, and chatting as they advanced, though Rob kept his eyes and senses constantly on the alert for signs that would tell him what he wished to know.
“I’ve heard a lot about the Maine woods, and how all sorts of people manage to get a fair living from them, winter or summer,” Tubby was saying later on. “Rob, you know something of such things, because you’ve been up here before. How about it?”
“It’s just as you say,” Rob replied. “Thousands on thousands of men find ways to wring a living from Nature’s storehouse up here in the great pine forests. I’ve met some of them personally, and asked questions. I’ve been told all about the others, and what interesting stunts they do.”
“Tell us a little about them, please, Rob?” urged Tubby.
“Well,” began the scout leader, always willing to oblige his chums when it was within his power to accommodate, “first of all there are the thousands of guides, both natives and Indians, who in summer take parties along the waterways of Maine in canoes, fishing for trout, bass, or salmon in the countless streams and lakes; and in the fall serve the hunters in their camps, when they are after deer and moose. They go to make up quite a little army in themselves, and their wages amount to many hundreds of thousands of dollars per annum. Next in order and importance, I expect, is the gum-hunter.”
“Well, I declare, what is a gum-hunter, anyway, Rob?” demanded the listening Tubby. “I’ve heard of a gumshoe man; but do hunters go shod that way in the Maine woods?”
That allowed Andy, better posted, to have another little explosion,
“Oh, dear innocent, trusting soul, you’ll be the death of me yet!” he gasped, between his fits of laughter. “For pity’s sake, Rob, tell him quickly what a gum-hunter is, or he’ll surely burst with curiosity.”
“You must know, Tubby,” said Rob, himself smiling broadly, “that spruce gum is used in immense quantities, not only in the manufacture