<h2 id="c23">CHAPTER XXIII. <br/><span class="small">AN ANCHOR TO WINDWARD.</span></h2>
<p>When Bob White heard Bumpus talk in this way
he took notice of the fact that the stout scout was in
deadly earnest in what he said. It was no laughing
matter, apparently, because Bumpus had evidently
made all sorts of preparations for the expected disaster,
besides fastening one end of that cord around
his body, and asking his fellow scout to hold the
other.</p>
<p>His precious silver-plated bugle which, as the accredited
musician of the troop, he always carried
along with him, unless otherwise forbidden by Thad,
he had now made more secure against possible damage
by fastening the same about his neck, so that it
dangled between his shoulders. And he was gripping
his rifle as though bent on keeping that also out
of the awful muck, should the accident he anticipated
come to pass; for once let any of that ooze
find a way into the barrel, and it would be a most
difficult task to get the interior “spic-and-span,”
and shiny again, as Bumpus always wished to keep
his firearm.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_202">202</div>
<p>But Bob White did not smile.</p>
<p>He liked the fat boy too well to give him unnecessary
pain, though the fact of Bumpus preparing that
heavy cord so that he might be saved in time,
should he slip from the narrow causeway and sink
into the slime, was really comical; and later on
would doubtless elicit roars of laughter from unfeeling
Giraffe and Davy, when they came to talk
matters over, and were free to make as much noise
as they felt like.</p>
<p>“That’s all right, Bumpus,” Bob said, reassuringly,
as he accepted the cord, and proceeded to
wind it several times around his left hand, for he
was carrying his gun in his right.</p>
<p>“You’ll do me the favor, then, will you?” questioned
the other, with eagerness.</p>
<p>“To be sure I will, suh, and only too gladly,”
replied Bob; “but, if so be you happen to know
when you’re going, it might be a good thing, I take
it, to give me due warning of the same, because a
sudden jerk would perhaps pull me over with you;
and then, suh, it’d be a case of the blind leading the
blind.”</p>
<p>“I will, Bob, depend on it, I’ll try to,” Bumpus
assured him. “Course I don’t want to souse in that
awful mud, and I’m agoing to try my level best to
keep on the straight and narrow road all I can; but
if it does happen, it’s always some comfort to know
you’ve got an anchor out to windward.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_203">203</div>
<p>“Yes, suh, it’s sometimes a good thing to have
a string tied to things, so they can be jerked back if
the conditions don’t seem favorable. I’ve known
fellows who never made a bargain but they had an
‘if’ or a ‘perhaps’ fixed to the same. But nobody
could say that of you, Bumpus. Don’t worry about
me; I’ll attend to business at the old stand, suh, all
right. You won’t go down so quick but that I’ll
manage to draw the line taut; and if she holds you’re
just bound to come out, either whole or in sections,
suh. That’s all.”</p>
<p>Which intelligence could hardly have been very
comforting to poor Bumpus; whose face took on a
thoughtful look, as though he had begun already to
wonder whether the remedy might not be more
dreadful than the disease.</p>
<p>But there was no time for more conversation in
these whispered tones between the two scouts; because
Alligator Smith had apparently found the
place for which he was looking, and boldly stepped
out from the firm ground.</p>
<p>While his feet went under the surface an inch or
so, he seemed to have struck a solid foundation;
for he immediately turned, and waved his hand to
the posse; and then held up his finger suggestively,
as though warning them under no circumstances
should they make unnecessary noise.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_204">204</div>
<p>Perhaps the fox they hoped to find in his hole
might be sleeping, and not apt to take the alarm
easily; but it was not wise to depend too much upon
that chance. The really keen woodsman never underrates
the party or animal he may be hunting,
but always acts as though he must expect the worst.
It is better to be too cautious than to lack in this
regard, and ruin well-laid plans.</p>
<p>Pretty soon there was a long line of men and
boys making their way along that submerged ledge
of solid ground. Thad came immediately after the
guide, walking in the footprints of the swamp
hunter, if such a thing could be said where the soft
ooze instantly settled back as soon as one withdrew
his foot. Then others of the scouts, led by the
sheriff, trailed along, Bumpus being just behind his
good friend Bob White, so no one really noticed
that there was a connecting link between the two.</p>
<p>By the time the last member of the big posse had
entered the bog, Alligator Smith was almost halfway
over; and thus far all had gone smoothly, so
that save for a certain amount of soft splashing
there had nothing happened to create a disturbance.
Bumpus was going strong. He must feel more or
less encouraged by the success with which he was
following in the wake of Smithy, who evidently felt
this thing of soiling his brand new leggings with
that black ooze more than any other scout; because
Smithy never could get over being particular in his
appearance, though he had been cured of being a
dude, brushing his hair when in camp, and other
silly ways of trying to imagine that certain duties
must be performed when roughing it, just the same
as when he was at home.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_205">205</div>
<p>Bumpus kept his eyes glued upon the feet of
Smithy, knowing that eternal vigilance was always
the price of safety and liberty. If the other manifested
signs of wabbling Bumpus was apt to shudder,
and stand stock-still until he saw Smithy go on
again without taking the anticipated tumble into
that quaking muck bed that seemed to just yawn
expectantly on either side of the moving line of men
and boys.</p>
<p>Some persons declare that when one is anticipating
a thing it generally comes about. Others say a
“watched kettle never boils;” so you can take your
choice. But as events proved, Bumpus’ fears were
not without a foundation; for when he was all of
two-thirds of the way over the bog he suddenly
slipped, and losing his footing, just settled into the
ooze like a big balloon might drop down.</p>
<p>Bumpus gave no yelp of alarm, for he had kept
schooling himself on this score all along, and made
up his mind that if the sacrifice must be carried out
he would at least prove himself a credit to the training
of Thad, and go down in silence.</p>
<p>Bob White came very near being pulled in after
him; but Giraffe who came just behind the Southern
boy, succeeded in clutching him in time.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_206">206</div>
<p>There was poor Bumpus over his knees in the
slime, and sinking steadily all the while on account
of his great weight. He knew the futility of trying
to get out by himself, and that the more he moved
about the worse his plight was bound to be; and so
he just squatted there like a huge frog, holding his
gun up above his head, and looking appealingly
toward the chum from whom he felt that he had a
right to expect help.</p>
<p>Nor was Bob White slow to get busy on that line.
Fortunately it was a new and strong cord that
Jasper had used in his man-trap which failed to
work because of the vigilance of the scout-master;
and when several others had laid hold of the same
no doubt they could assist Bumpus to clamber out
again.</p>
<p>It was rather difficult to accomplish anything
while on such a narrow footing, because in the first
place they could not bunch together; and then again
there was always a chance that one of the other
scouts might also lose his footing, and slide into
that soft bed; for the muck was no respector of
persons, neither did Bumpus have a monopoly of
the same, because there was plenty of room for
others.</p>
<p>But by dint of judicious handling, and a sort of
swinging pull they managed to start the heavy
scout coming.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_207">207</div>
<p>“Get a move on, and help yourself, can’t you?”
fretted Giraffe, upon seeing how Bumpus was just
content to let himself be hauled out by main strength.</p>
<p>“Shall I, Bob?” asked the object of all this solicitude,
as though recognizing the Southern boy as
the one in command, because it had been in his
charge he had submitted his case when the prospects
looked dubious.</p>
<p>“Yes, it would help some, I take it, suh, if you
did make motions like you-all might be a frog swimming
in there,” the one appealed to made answer.</p>
<p>And so Bumpus, who had doubtless often watched
a frog swimming so gracefully in the water, started
to give them his conception of what it was like.
Giraffe nearly doubled up with silent laughter, and
only for the proximity of Allan might have made
more or less of a noise; but he succeeded in restraining
his exuberant spirits, and even did some hauling
on the faithful cord that did not fail Bumpus in
this great emergency.</p>
<p>They got him out presently, and while Bumpus
was a sight, with all that black mud clinging to his
legs, so that the rest had to keep away from him,
Davy had the temerity, instead of giving thanks
over the successful rescue of his chum, to go and
mutter something that sounded like:</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_208">208</div>
<p>“Anyway, now, he’ll just <i>have</i> to throw away
that old suit, and the rest of us’ll be able to breathe
easy again. Blessings lots of times come along in
disguise, my ma says, and this must be one of ’em.
And so I’m real glad we had to creep along this
slippery ridge after all, because it’s going to make
a change in things when we get back to our duffel.”</p>
<p>“Keep quiet, can’t you, Davy!” warned Giraffe,
who all the time was chuckling to himself as though
he really enjoyed every word he heard the other
scout say, because Davy was voicing his own sentiments
exactly.</p>
<p>When that suspicious “plunk” had warned them
all that some one was in the mire, Thad and the
guide had come to a full stop, to wait until the
rescue had been effected. While they were strung
out in that wavering line, what was the interest of
one concerned them all; and there would be little
use in a few of them getting safely over the bog if
the main body were held up out there; because none
of those in the rear could pass by until Bumpus
had been saved.</p>
<p>The fat scout gave Bob White many thankful
looks, and insisted upon the other retaining hold of
that friendly piece of thin rope, because, as often
happens, history might choose to repeat, as one
good turn deserves another, and he did not like
that oozy bed any better after testing its capacity,
than he had before his slip-up.</p>
<p>As for that line, Bumpus would treasure it most
religiously, as one of his most valued possessions;
for had it not saved his life?</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_209">209</div>
<p>The forward march was resumed, with everybody
hoping that clumsy Bumpus would be much
more careful of his footing now, so that the solid
ground might be reached without more trouble.</p>
<p>Nobody was more anxious than the stout boy
that such a thing might carry; and quite naturally
he exercised all the caution he could muster up in
order to keep from doing that sliding trick again.</p>
<p>When finally he reached solid ground, and actually
felt something firm under his feet, Bumpus
gave a great sigh of thanksgiving and relief. Others
did the same, it may as well be confessed.</p>
<p>First of all, Bumpus restored his bugle to its
customary place at his side. Then, having deposited
his gun on the ground, leaning up against a tree, he
next proceeded to coil up that valuable cord, and
stow the same away inside his khaki jacket.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you get busy, and scrape some of
that mud off?” asked Step Hen, in the ear of the
one who had so recently been saved; whereupon
Bumpus sat him down deliberately, picked up a
stick, and began to reduce the amount of bog which
he was carrying on his person; which operation
some of the others watched in more or less amusement,
particularly Davy, who shook his head, and
grinned as he caught the eye of Giraffe, as much as
to say:</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_210">210</div>
<p>“Here’s where luck came our way in great big
chunks, Giraffe, because, don’t you see, he’s just
bound to throw that suit away after getting it in
such a horrible mess, for Thad won’t allow him to
tote it along, nohow. Our time is near at hand,
thank goodness; and I say again we’re lucky; because
it’d almost take an earthquake to make such a
stubborn mule as Bumpus to change his mind, he’s
so sot in his ways.”</p>
<p>The others had better luck than the fat scout;
several may have slipped a little on the way over,
but no one actually fell in far enough to make a
rescue necessary.</p>
<p>By degrees they came ashore, until presently it
was seen that every one in the expedition had
landed.</p>
<p>The sheriff deemed it a wise piece of precaution
to leave a couple of his men at this point to act as
a guard. If, as Alligator Smith believed, this was
the only means of crossing the fearful muck bed,
then, should they have the misfortune to do anything
that would start the fugitive to action, he
might still be nabbed in the act of trying to get over
to the mainland at this point.</p>
<p>And this having been duly attended to, the rest
of the posse, together with Alligator Smith and the
Boy Scouts, prepared to leave the vicinity of the
quaking bog, and start in among the trees with
which this queer island, looking like an oasis in the
midst of a desert, was pretty well covered.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_211">211</div>
<p>Every fellow just knew that they must be very
close to the place where the man they were hunting
had his “hang-out;” and the knowledge caused
them to experience a succession of odd little thrills
that seemed to chase all over their bodies, as though
some one might be pouring ice water down their
backs. But at the same time there was a delightful
sense of expectancy in the air that caused most of
the scouts to feel that the climax to their long journey
must now be at hand.</p>
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