Chapter XVIII: Back in Camp

“Did you hit him?”

“What was it?”

“Say, we’d better get out of this!”

Tom, Jack and Bert thus cried in turn. As for Dick he said nothing, and he did nothing, for he could not see to run in the darkness of the cave, and the rush of air, following the shot from his gun, had put out the match Tom was holding up.

“Show a light there,” called the marksman. “I think I plugged him all right.”

Tom struck another match and held it high above his head. Dick stood his ground, and Bert and Jack, who had started to run, came back to the mouth of the cave.

“No, I didn’t get him. I can see his green eyes yet!” shouted Dick. “Here goes for another shot.”

“Hold on!” cried Tom.

“What’s the matter?” asked Dick. “Don’t you want me to hit the beast?”

“I would if there was one there,” spoke Tom, quietly, “but there’s no use wasting powder and lead on a stone wall.”

“A stone wall?” gasped Dick.

“Yes, that’s what you shot at. Look,” and Tom, advancing into the cave, held up a piece of wood he had lighted as a sort of torch, against the rocky wall of the cave. “That was what you thought were the glittering eyes of some animal,” he went on, and he pointed to two shining particles of mica in the rock. They were about the distance apart of an animal’s eyes, and when the match was reflected from them Dick mistook them for the orbs of a bear or some other beast. He had fired on the instant.

“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” gasped the marksman.

“You’d have plugged him if it _had_ been anything,” said Tom, as he held the little torch still closer to the rocky wall. Then they could all see where the shot from Dick’s gun had flattened out between the glittering bits of mica.

“Some shot, that,” complimented Bert, who, with Jack, had entered the cave.

“I should say yes,” added Jack.

“And in the dark, too,” came from Tom. “Well, fellows, we’re here. We’ve got a shelter, and now if we only had something to eat, we’d be all right.”

“That’s so,” agreed Bert, as he and Jack lighted some dry sticks of wood they had picked up on the floor of the cave. The place was now comparatively light.

Dick lowered his gun, which he had been holding in readiness for another shot if necessary, and as the torches blazed up more brightly, he uttered a startled cry.

“What is it?” demanded Tom. “Do you see a bear?”

“No, but I see where there’s been a fire in here,” answered Dick, “and, unless I’m mistaken, there’s something here to eat.”

“Get out!” cried Bert incredulously.

“Don’t raise our hopes,” pleaded Jack. “I’m half starved.”

For answer Dick went farther back into the cave where his companions could see some boxes. Then came a cry of triumph.

“It’s all right fellows!” shouted Dick. “Someone has been camping here, and they’ve left enough stuff so we won’t starve until morning, anyhow. Here’s some canned meat, some crackers, a bit of stale bread, and a coffee pot. There’s coffee too, if my nose is good for anything!”

“Hurray!” yelled Jack. “Hold me, someone, I’m going to faint.”

“Is it real food?” demanded Tom.

“It looks like it,” answered Dick.

“Then, fellows, get in some wood, strip some bark for torches and we’ll make a fire and eat,” suggested Tom. “Is there anything we can get water in, Dick?”

“Yes, here’s a battered pail. It may leak, but I guess it will hold enough for coffee. And there are some tin cups, too.”

“Good! Bert, you get some water. We passed a spring just before we found this cave. See if you can locate it. Jack, you and Dick sort this stuff out, and I’ll get wood for the fire.”

Thus Tom soon had his little force busily employed. From the depths of despair they had been transported to delight in a short time.

A quick survey showed that the cave had been used by campers, and that within a day or two. There was enough canned meat and crackers left for at least two meals, and with the coffee, a supply of which, already ground, Dick found in a can, and with some condensed milk, the boys knew they would not starve.

“This is great luck!” exclaimed Tom, as Bert came back with the pail of water.

“It sure is,” assented Jack. “I wonder who has been here?”

“I shouldn’t wonder but what Sam and Nick were,” replied Tom.

“What makes you think so?” they asked him.

“Because there are two cups, two knives and two forks, and two tin plates. That shows two fellows were here, and Sam and Nick are the most likely ones I can think of.”

“Could this have been their main camp?” asked Dick.

“I hardly think so,” replied Tom. “I believe they just found this cave--or maybe Mr. Skeel did--and they may have made this a stopping place just to be nearer the old mill.”

“Or maybe they have been searching for the treasure in here,” suggested Jack.

“It’s possible,” admitted Tom. “Well, anyhow, let’s see what sort of a meal we can get, and then for a rest. I’m dead tired.”

It was a very primitive supper that they managed to cook over a fire built in the cave. There was a natural ventilation to the place, so the smoke did not annoy them much. They warmed some canned roast beef in a battered skillet, opening the can with a jackknife.

Coffee they made in the dented pot, and then they had to take turns eating, as there were only enough table utensils for two at a time. The table was a box in which the stuff had evidently been brought to the cave.

“Oh, but I feel better now!” exclaimed Jack, with a contented sigh, when supper was over.

“So do I, and I’ll feel better still when I find my boat,” came from Tom.

“We’ll have another hunt for her in the morning,” suggested Bert.

“And we may have good luck,” added Dick. “I think the finding of this cave and the food means that our luck will take a turn.”

“It needs to,” said Tom grimly.

For beds they cut spruce and hemlock boughs, spreading them out on the floor of the cave, and, though it was not like their comfortable cots, they slept fairly well, not being disturbed. After a breakfast, on what was left from the previous night, they held a conference.

“What’s best to do?” asked Tom. “I don’t want to always be giving orders.”

“Sure, you’re the camp-captain,” declared Jack. “We’ll listen to you. I should think you’d have to find the boat first, before we can do anything else. We can’t swim back to our camp, that’s certain.”

“Well, if that’s the general opinion, we’ll have another try for the boat, walking along the lake shore,” agreed Tom.

They set out, and retraced their route of the previous day, coming finally to the lake. As the place where the river entered was quite broad it was out of the question to swim it, or, rather, they did not like to risk it, in such unknown waters.

So they followed the lake shore for a considerable distance farther than Tom and Bert had gone the previous evening. They climbed a high hill, that gave a good view of the lake, but, strain their eyes as they could, they had no glimpse of the _Tag_.

“They’ve either got her well hidden, or else they have sunk her,” was Tom’s despairing comment.

“Oh, maybe we’ll find her,” said Jack, more cheerfully.

“Say, I’ve just thought of something!” exclaimed Bert.

“What is it?” his chums asked him in a chorus.

“It’s this! That old hermit must have some sort of a boat. He never could get on the other side of the lake, where we are camped, and over here again as quickly as he does without crossing in a boat. I believe he must have some sort of a craft hidden in the river near the mill.”

Silence followed Bert’s advancement of his theory, and then Tom exclaimed:

“By Jove! old man, I believe you’re right. Why didn’t we think of that before? Of course he has a boat! He never could get around the way he does if he didn’t have. And it’s up to us to find it. Come on back. We’ll walk along the river bank until we get to the mill. Then we’ll look for the boat.”

Buoyed up by new hope, they started back, and, proceeding cautiously, they soon were below, and opposite, the ancient mill.

“It’ll be on this side,” decided Tom, “and probably hidden under some bushes. Look carefully, and don’t make much noise. We don’t want old Wallace to chase us again.”

The river was far enough below the old mill so that ordinary sounds made at the stream could not be heard at the structure. But still the boys were cautious. They kept a sharp lookout, too, for any sign of the old hermit.

Up and down the bank they went, peering under bushes, and in little coves formed by water eddies. Suddenly Jack cried out:

“Here it is, fellows! An old tub, but it’s got oars, and we can row to camp in it.”

They ran to where he stood beside an old skiff. It looked to be leaky and unsafe, but it was a boat, and they would have almost welcomed a wash-tub in their plight.

“Quick!” exclaimed Tom. “I think I hear someone coming. Get in and shove off.”

They lost no time in embarking, and, when they were afloat on the river, they found that the craft was better than she looked.

“I guess we can get to camp in this,” said Tom with a sigh of relief. “And, on our way, we may see the _Tag_.”

“If we’re not caught before we get into the lake,” spoke Jack grimly.

Apprehensively they looked in the direction of the old mill. All they heard was the rustle of the wind in the trees. The place seemed silent and deserted.

“Say, things are happening all right!” exclaimed Dick. “I never imagined camping was so exciting.”

“Oh, things generally happen where Tom Fairfield is,” remarked Jack, with a laugh.

Dick was at the oars, and rowed rapidly down stream, being aided by the current. In a short time they were far enough below the mill to make it practically impossible for the old hermit to catch them.

“Unless he has our motorboat,” put in Bert.

“In that case I’ll let him capture us, and then I’ll take the _Tag_ away from him,” said Tom firmly.

Out on the lake they floated. It was a bit rough, but the skiff was a broad and heavy one, and made a good sea boat. They took turns rowing, meanwhile keeping a watch for Tom’s craft, but they did not see her.

“You don’t appreciate a motorboat untill you have to row!” exclaimed our hero, as Bert relieved him at the oars.

“Oh, well, we’ll soon be in camp,” consoled Dick, and an hour later they were opposite their tents.

“Everything seems all right,” said Tom, with an air of relief. “Now to see if we’ve had any visitors.”