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Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 17. Big Game And A Night In Camp |
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_ CHAPTER XVII. BIG GAME AND A NIGHT IN CAMP "IT'S a bad time to follow through the woods," remarked Corporal Cotter. "There goes the sun behind the tops." "It'll be dark within five or six minutes more," said Noll. "If Hal Overton is running about in the woods, I think the best thing to do will be to run two lanterns up to the tree top, so that Overton can locate the camp. Then, if he's in any further difficulty, he'll fire the rifle signal. What do you think, lieutenant?" "Nothing," replied Mr. Prescott promptly. "You're in temporary command here, Sergeant Terry." "Run up the camp lights, Johnson," Noll directed. These lights, a red and a green one, were quickly run up on halyards to almost the top of a tall fir tree. It was quickly dark, but camp now waited to learn the meaning of so many shots. "Hey, there's Dinkelspiel's Comet let loose in the sky!" announced Private Johnson. "Wrong! It's Overton waving a torch from a tree top," returned Noll, studying the flame sweeps of the distant torch that waved. "Johnson get hold of the halyards and raise and lower the lanterns two or three times to let Sergeant Overton know that we see his signal." The distant signalman now began waving his torch from right to left, following the regular code. "Send--here--all--men--can--spare," read Sergeant Terry, following the torch's movements with his eyes. "Will--signal--time--to--time--till--men--arrive. Overton." "He must be in trouble," cried Hyman. "No; he's struck game," retorted Noll. "Johnson, raise and lower the lanterns three times to show Sergeant Overton that his signal has been read. Now, then, we'll all get out there on a hike--a fast hike. But we'll have to leave some one here who can read further signals. Lieutenant, do you mind, sir, watching further signals?" "Why, yes," agreed young Mr. Prescott, laughing, "if you feel that I'll be of no use on the hike. But if you asked me what I'd like, I'd rather go with you." "Very good, sir. Corporal Hyman, you will remain here and watch for further signals. Kelly and Slosson, of course, will stay by the supper. The rest--forward!" "Guns, Sergeant?" called one of the men. "Two of you bring rifles, in case of trouble. The rest had better be unencumbered. Forward." Having located his bunkie's direction, Noll had little difficulty in finding the way. Most of the time they were within sight of the torch that moved from time to time. "Hel-lo, bun-kie!" hailed Noll when the party was within an eighth of a mile of the tree. "Hello! Glad you're here." From the subsequent movements of the torch the approaching party knew that Overton was going down the tree. Then they saw him coming over the ground. "What's up?" hailed Noll. "Nothing. I've just come down," retorted Sergeant Hal. "What have you been doing?" "Killing game," replied Sergeant Overton, as he headed toward them. "What kind?" "How much?" "All you'll want to lug back," chuckled Sergeant Hal gleefully. "Come on, now, and I'll show you. You see," Sergeant Hal continued, as the party joined him, "I got a sight at a fine antelope buck to windward and only four hundred yards away. I brought him down the first shot." "Oh, come now, Sarge!" teased Private Johnson. "I fired two shots, but the first toppled him," insisted Hal. "Come, look here." Hal Overton halted under the trees, pointing with his torch. It was certainly a fine, sleek, heavy buck to which Hal pointed. "But you didn't need all of us to carry it in, did you?" demanded one of the men. "Not exactly," laughed Hal happily. "Swing on to the buck, a couple of you, and come along. I'll tell you the rest. Just after I fired the second shot I heard a growl close to me. Less than a hundred yards away I heard a sound of paws moving toward me. Then I saw him. There he is." Sergeant Overton's torch now lit up the carcass of a dead brown bear, one of the biggest that any of them had ever seen. "And right behind him," went on Hal, "was Mrs. Bruin. I can tell you, my nerve was beginning to ooze. But I fired--and here's the lady bear." Sergeant Hal led his soldier friends to the second bear carcass. "But it wasn't more than a second or two later," laughed Hal, though some of the soldiers now noticed the quiver in his voice, "that I began to think some one had locked me in with a menagerie and turned the key loose. Just beyond were a he-bear and two more females, and they were plainly some mad and headed toward me." "Whew!" whistled Lieutenant Prescott. "What did you do?" "Shook with the buck fever," admitted the boyish sergeant, with a laugh. "I'm not joking, either. I didn't expect to get back to camp alive, for it was growing dark in here under the trees, and I knew I couldn't depend on my shooting. I'm almost afraid I closed my eyes as I fired and kept firing. But, anyway----" Hal stopped, holding his torch so as to show the carcass of another male bear. Not many yards away lay two females. "An antelope and five bears!" gasped Lieutenant Prescott. "Sergeant Overton, you've qualified for the sharpshooter class in two minutes!" "I don't claim any credit for the last three bears," insisted Hal. "I simply don't know how I hit 'em. It wasn't marksmanship, anyway." "Nonsense!" spoke Prescott almost sharply. "It was clever shooting and uncommonly brave work." "Brave, sir?" retorted Hal, laughingly. "Lieutenant, do you note how my teeth are still chattering? I'm shaking all over, still, for that matter." "Talk until morning light comes, and you can't throw any discredit either on your shooting or your nerve, Sergeant Overton. If you won't take a young officer's word for it," answered Mr. Prescott, "then ask any of the old, buck doughboys in this outfit." "It's a job an old hunter'd brag about," glowed one of the soldiers. Forgetting, for the time, their hunger, the men wandered from one carcass to another, examining them to see where the hits had been made. "If you men are not going to get together soon, to pick up these animals, I'll have to tote 'em all myself," Prescott reminded them. "Terry, will you swing on under this bear with me?" The two managed to raise it. "Here, Lieutenant, that's not for you to do," remonstrated Sergeant Overton. "Let me take hold of your end." "I'm not a weakling, thank you," retorted Mr. Prescott. "I'll do my share, and I recommend you to proclaim that any man who doesn't do his share doesn't eat to-night. But as for you, Sergeant Overton, I shall have a bad opinion of this outfit if they let you carry anything more than your rifle back to camp this night." And that motion was carried unanimously. Sergeant Hal was forced to go ahead as guide, while the others, the lieutenant included, buckled manfully to their burdens. Not infrequently they had to halt and rest, for the carcasses were fearfully heavy, even for men as toughened as regulars. Yet, finally, they did manage to get Hal's prizes back to camp. "Another day or two like this, and we needn't be ashamed to face the men back at Clowdry," observed Lieutenant Prescott complacently. "Six bears and a buck antelope in one day is no fool work, even if one man did do it all." "But you killed the bear this morning, sir," urged Sergeant Hal. "Yes, Sergeant; after you had fired the first shot and had crippled the beast so that it couldn't get away from me." Not even to gloat over the big haul of game, however, could the men wait any longer for their long-deferred evening meal. There was a general washup, after which the entire party went to table. Lieutenant Prescott permitted one concession to his rank. He sat at table with the enlisted men, but he had one end of the board all to himself. Two ruddy campfires now shed their glow over the table. It was a rough scene, but one full of the sheer joy of outdoor, manly life. "I hope, Kelly, that the long wait hasn't encouraged to-night's bear meat to dry up in the pans," remarked the lieutenant pleasantly. "No fear o' that, sir," replied the soldier cook. "Instead, the meat had simmered so long in its own juices that a thin pewter fork would pick it to pieces." "How much meat is there?" asked Private Johnson, whereat all the men laughed as happily as schoolboys on a picnic. "Never ye fear, glutton," retorted Kelly. "There's more meat than any seventeen giants in the fairy tales could ever eat at one sitting." And then on it came--great hunks of roast bear meat, flanked with browned potatoes and gravy; flaky biscuits, huge pats of butter, bowls heaped with canned vegetables. Pots of steaming coffee passed up and down the table. Hunters in the wilds get back close to nature, and have the appetites of savages. These men around the camp table ate, every man of them, twice as much as he could have eaten back at company mess at Fort Clowdry. Then, to top it all, came more coffee and mince pie in abundance. Nor did these hardy hunters, after climbing the mountain trails all day, fear the nightmare. Their stomachs were fitted to digest anything edible! It was over at last, and pipes came out here and there, though not all of the soldiers smoked. Hal Overton was one of those who did not smoke. He had brought out his rubber poncho and a blanket, and had placed these on the frosty ground at some distance from one of the campfires. "You are looking rather thoughtful, Sergeant," observed Lieutenant Prescott, strolling over to Overton. "I hope I am not interrupting any train of thought." "No, sir." "May I sit down beside you?" "Certainly, sir." Sergeant Hal moved over, making plenty of room on his blanket. Officer and non-com. stretched themselves out comfortably, each resting on one elbow. "Nevertheless, Sergeant," continued Mr. Prescott, "you were thinking of something very particular when I came along." "I was just thinking, sir, how jolly this life is, and for that matter, how jolly everything connected with the Army is. I was wondering why so many young fellows let their earlier manhood slip by without finding out what an ideal place the Army is." "But what is especially jolly just now, Sergeant," replied the lieutenant, "is the hunting. Now, men don't have to enter the Army in order to have all the hunting they want." "But we're drawing our pay while here," returned Overton. "And we are having our expenses paid, too. The man in civil life doesn't get that. If he hunts, he must do it at his own expense. Then there's another point, sir. In the case of the average hunting party of men from civil life it must be hard to find a lot of really good fellows, who'll keep their good nature all through the hardships of camping. For instance, where, in civil life, could you get together seventeen fellows, all of them as fine fellows and as agreeable as we have here? But I beg the lieutenant's pardon. I didn't intend to include him as one of the crowd, for the rest are all enlisted men." "I want to be considered one of the crowd," replied the young officer simply. "But you're not an enlisted man, sir." "No; but I've cast my lot with the Army for life, and so, I trust, have most of you enlisted men. Therefore we all belong together, though not all can be officers. For that matter, I imagine there are a good many men in the ranks of our battalion who wouldn't care to be officers. Many soldiers are of a happy-go-lucky type, and wouldn't care to burden themselves with an officer's responsibilities. Yet I certainly want to be, as far as good discipline will permit, one of the crowd along with all good, staunch and loyal soldiers, whatever their grades of rank may be." This was seeing the commissioned officer of Uncle Sam's Army in a somewhat different light, even to one as keen and observing as Hal Overton. In garrison life it is very seldom that the enlisted man gets a real glimpse of the "man side" of the officer. The requirements of military discipline are such that officers and enlisted men do not often mingle on any terms of equality. This fact, as far as the American Army goes, is based on the military experience of ages that, when officers and men mingle on terms of too much equality, discipline suffers sadly. It is this intimacy of officers and men that keeps many National Guard organizations from reaching greater efficiency. Men have served through a whole term of enlistment in the regular Army without realizing how friendly a really good and capable officer always feels toward the really good enlisted men under his command. The captain of a company, is, in effect, the father of his company, and his time must be spent largely in looking after the actual welfare and happiness of his men. In this work the captain's lieutenants are his assistants. Soon the night grew much colder in this high altitude. Now the wood was heaped on one fire, and around this blazing pile soldiers sat or stretched themselves on blankets and ponchos. It is at such a time that the soldier's yarns crop up. Story after story of the military life was told. All in good time Lieutenant Prescott contributed his share, from anecdotes of the old days at West Point. Then it became so late that Sergeant Hal announced that Johnson and Dietz would have the camp detail for the day following. This meant, also, that Johnson and Dietz would therefore divide between them the duty of watching over the camp through the night. It was Johnson who took the first trick of the watch, while the others turned in in their tents. Holding his rifle across his knees, mainly as a matter of form, Johnson sat down by the campfire, while his drowsy comrades turned in in their tents and slept the sleep of the strong in that clear, crisp Colorado air. _ |
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