Camp Venture: A Story of the Virginia Mountains

CHAPTER XXXI
Corporal Jenkins's March

But the caravan did not come. A thaw had set in, reinforced by a rain, and all the mountain streams were torrents again – utterly impassable.

When Tom explained the case the lieutenant said:

"Nevertheless Corporal Jenkins will get here with the supplies. He may be much longer in coming than we hoped for, but he will come. He is a man of resource and he never gives up."

In the meantime Corporal Jenkins was in a very bad way half way up the mountain side. He had passed one torrent while yet it was only half full, and now it was so full that he could not even retreat with his mule caravan. In front was another torrent that it would have been sheer insanity to attempt to cross – a stream fifty feet wide, rushing down through a gorge with a violence that carried great stones with it, some of them weighing many tons, while the water was almost completely filled with a tangled mass of whirling trees that had been torn up by the roots by the on rush of the waters.

"We'll have to go back, Corporal," suggested one of the men.

"We can't go back," he replied. "That last stream we crossed is as full as this one now. Besides we must get these supplies to camp."

"But how?"

"I don't know how! Shut up and let me think the thing out."

After his thinking the corporal ordered the caravan to leave the trail and work its way up the mountain in the space between the two streams. It was a difficult and sometimes a perilous ascent. There were cliffs in the way around and over which a passage was partly found and partly forced by great labor. At some places the pathway was so steep that no mule could carry his load up it. Here the corporal divided the loads and led the mules up with only one-fourth or one-fifth of the burden upon each. Then unloading that he took the animals back again and placed another portion of their load upon their backs, repeating the journey as often as might be necessary. As he had twenty mules in his pack train it sometimes took half a day to get over thirty or forty yards of distance in this tedious and toilsome fashion. But at any rate there was progress made.

Often, too, there were great detours to be made in order to get around obstacles that could not be overcome. Thus day after day was consumed in the tedious climb up the mountain. The corporal knew how anxiously his commanding officer was awaiting his coming, but he could not hurry it more than he was already doing.

"What's your plan, Corporal?" asked one of the men when a bivouac was made one evening.

"Simple enough," answered the corporal. "When you've served in the mountains as long as I have, you'll know that every mountain torrent has a beginning somewhere up towards the top of the mountain. I'm simply following this one up to find its head waters and go around them."

The raging stream had grown much smaller now, as the caravan neared its place of beginning, and the next morning the corporal found a place at which he thought it safe to attempt a crossing. It was perilous work, but after an hour or two of struggle all the mules and all the men were got safely to the farther side.

The corporal knew that he was much higher up the mountain than the site of Camp Venture. But it was no part of his plan to descend until he had passed the head waters of all other streams and reached a point directly south of the camp and above it. So he proceeded westward around the mountain.

Without knowing what the trusty corporal's plans or proceedings would be, the lieutenant felt that he was likely to have difficulty in locating the camp. So he ordered a brush fire kept burning night and day, so that the smoke of it by day and the light of it by night might be seen from a great distance.

Finally, exactly ten days from the time of the corporal's departure, his caravan was seen slowly and toilsomely descending the mountain toward the camp.

A great shout of gladness went up from all the men, who had tasted nothing but meat for a week past, and Tom, seizing his rifle started up the hill at a rapid pace to show the corporal the easiest way down the steep mountain side.

When the corporal reached camp the lieutenant complimented him highly upon his skill and success in overcoming difficulties, and declared his purpose to make a commendatory report of his conduct of the expedition.

"But how did you happen to come to us from up the mountain instead of from down the mountain?" asked the lieutenant, while eagerly devouring an ash cake.

"Why," said the corporal, "when I found my road up the mountain blocked by an impassable torrent, I remembered some of my old soldier experiences and I turned them around. I remembered that when we camp on hills and set out in search of water the rule is to keep always going down hill, because that's the way water runs. If you keep on doing that you'll come to water after awhile. So, turning that around, I said to myself, 'all this water comes from up the mountain. The only way to get past it is to go clear up to where it comes from.' That's what I did, and then I marched straight around the high mountain till I saw your brush fire last night about midnight. I wanted to come right on, but both the men and the mules were exhausted by a terrific day's work and besides it was too dark to see the difficult way; so I bivouacked for the night and started down the hill between daylight and sunrise. There, Lieutenant, that's the whole story, and it isn't much of a story, at that."

"Well, I don't know," said the lieutenant, meditatively. "It's enough of a story at any rate to make a sergeant out of Corporal Jenkins, if my recommendations carry any weight at headquarters. Corporal, you have conducted this affair in a masterly manner, with zeal, skill and discretion. My report will mention these facts."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," was all that the soldier could say. But it was quite enough.

CHAPTER XXXII
The Lieutenant's Wrath

The lieutenant's faith in Tom's sportsmanship was so great that in making his requisition for thirty days' rations for his men and his prisoners he had asked to have all the meat rations, except a dozen sides of bacon, commuted into rations of flour, meal, maccaroni, rice, potatoes and other starchy foods. His first care, after the mules were unloaded, was to replenish the leader of Camp Venture with such provisions as these in return for the drafts he had been compelled to make upon their supplies. "And besides," he said, "Camp Venture is just now my hospital, with five wounded men in it, to every one of whom ten days' rations are overdue."

Thus at last the boys were abundantly supplied with starchy food and for the rest Tom's gun never failed to provide a sufficient supply of meat.

Now that five of the six bunks in Camp Venture were occupied by wounded men, the boys made for themselves the best beds they could, on the earthen floor. At first it was proposed that the Doctor should occupy the one bunk not devoted to the use of a wounded man, but the Doctor dismissed the suggestion with scorn. Next it was suggested that Ed should still consider himself an invalid and accept the hospitality of the bunk.

"But I'm no longer an invalid," answered Ed, almost angrily. "I'm well enough now to chop down trees, and take cold baths. A pretty sort of sick fellow I am!"

Finally it was agreed that the several boys should occupy the bunk in succession, one each night, and lots were drawn for the order in which they should occupy it. As the soldiers now kept guard it was no longer necessary for the boys to keep a sentinel awake.

The lieutenant's second care after provisioning the boys, was to make another appeal to the revenue officer, or rather to place that person again in his rightful position of responsibility.

"I have provisioned my force," he said. "Are you contemplating any further operations in the mountains? If so I shall be glad to place myself and my men at your disposal. We can march at a moment's notice."

"I don't know," said the officer, "whether further operations just now would yield results commensurate with the risk. What do you think, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, it is not my business to think," answered the military man, "at least not on questions of that kind. I have been ordered up here to give military support to any operations that you may undertake against the illicit distillers. Beyond giving such military support I have no functions whatever."

"But what do you think, Lieutenant?"

"I tell you I am not thinking. I am simply waiting for orders."

"But surely you have some opinion. Won't you give me the benefit of it?"

"Yes," answered the lieutenant. "I have an opinion – several of them, in fact – and as you insist, I will give you the benefit of them. It is my opinion that you have conducted your affairs like an imbecile. You were sent up here to break up the illicit stills and you haven't found one of them yet and never will. You found this camp of wood chopping boys and made me capture it for you. Then the moonshiners took the offensive, while you were pottering around here trying to find a still where a mere glance would have convinced an intelligent man that there was none. Very well, I captured the moonshiners while you were hiding behind the Camp Venture barricade. They are our prisoners, no thanks to you. I think now, as I told you at the time, that then, if ever, was your time to search out the stills and capture them. You would not do it, and it is my conviction that by this time every still in the mountain is so securely hidden that a fine tooth comb couldn't find one of them or any tangible evidence that one of them was ever in existence. You've got the materials for a report, of course, – a report showing so many prisoners captured – but I fancy you'll find it difficult to show either that you captured them or that you had any authority to capture them. I captured them and I had a right to do so, because they attacked a body of regular troops engaged in doing their duty. In other words, they levied war upon the United States and were caught in the act. The charge of treason cannot be sustained against them, probably; if not they are guilty of rioting, assault and battery and all that sort of thing. But what charge can you bring against them? You may say that they are moonshiners, but you can't offer a particle of proof of that, simply because you would not follow up this affair by hunting out the stills. There, you have a few of my leading 'opinions,' and as you don't seem to relish them, perhaps I needn't give you any more."

The revenue agent was dejected beyond measure. For a time he sat still with a flushed and angry face. Then, as he realized the situation in which he had placed himself by his foolishness and indecision, he turned pale. Finally he appealed again to the lieutenant:

"Won't you advise me what to do now at any rate?" he asked.

"I'll advise you as to nothing. When the time to act came I volunteered some advice and you rejected it. I now simply notify you that my force will be held ready to march at a moment's warning to any point where you may feel the need of military support in the discharge of your duty."

"But, Lieutenant – "

"I tell you I have said all I am going to say," broke in the military man, angered quite as much by the man's imbecility as by his obvious cowardice. "I await any requisition you may make upon me for military support, and I will instantly respond to every such requisition. As to advice, I have none to offer. When we go back down the mountain, you doubtless will make your report. I will make mine also. Good night, sir."

And with that the lieutenant strode away to his camp fire out under the bluff, gave his orders for the night and went to sleep with a clear conscience.

CHAPTER XXXIII
A Homing Prospect

The revenue officers and the soldiers remained at Camp Venture, the Doctor caring for the wounded men who were rapidly recovering as the days went by. Meantime the boys were nearing the end of their winter's work and were looking forward rather eagerly to a home-going in the near future. Tom continued to hunt for game, and his diligence in that direction provided a sufficient supply of meat, while the lieutenant's stores furnished enough bread stuffs for all.

The chief revenue officer announced his purpose to take his party down the mountain as soon as the streams should be passable, and Jack announced his intention of taking his party down as soon as they should have finished the work they had laid out for themselves.

"I shan't wait for the streams to get out of the way," he said. "We'll go down the mountain not by the road, but over the cliffs as Tom did that night we were so scared about him. There are no streams to cross there. That's perfectly feasible, isn't it, Tom?"

"Oh, yes," answered Tom, "particularly as we shall have the Doctor along to patch up any broken legs or arms that we may get in dropping down over precipices."

"Is there serious danger of that?" asked Jim.

"Yes, if you are careless; no, if you are careful," answered Tom. "In fact, my experience teaches me that that's usually the case. The man who doesn't look out for himself usually meets with what he calls 'accidents' and blames Luck, or Fortune or Providence with mishaps which a little intelligent care on his own part would have averted. In fact I don't believe there is any such thing as accident, strictly speaking."

"How about that perforated ear of yours, Tom?" asked Ed.

"Oh, that illustrates my point. That wasn't an accident at all. I might have stayed here in the house that morning, and I'd have been perfectly safe. You see, I had no business out there on the line. The work to be done there belonged exclusively to the soldiers. But, with my curiosity to see how such things were managed I went out there and then like a young idiot I stood up by the lieutenant, when all the soldiers were lying down. If I hadn't done that I wouldn't have got my ear pierced. No, there's no such thing as accident in a world that is governed by law."

"But Tom," asked Jim Chenowith, "suppose you are on a railroad train and it runs off the track and you are considerably done up. Isn't that an accident?"

"No. The train would never have run off the track if everybody had done his duty. But somebody laid the rails carelessly, or some engineer failed to discover that a stone was loose on the cliff above and about to drop down on the track, or somebody else failed somewhere; otherwise the train would never have run off the track. I tell you I don't believe there is any such thing as accident, in the strict sense of the word. This world is governed by law. Causes produce their effects as certainly as the multiplication table gives its results. The trouble is we don't take enough care of the causes."

"But sometimes we don't know enough to do that," said Jack.

"Well, ignorance is the cause in that case. I don't say that one is always to blame for the evils that befall him. I only say that they don't befall him by 'accident,' and that with due care we can avoid most of them. That is particularly true in letting yourself down over a precipice by holding on to bushes. Some bushes hold on tenaciously and some give way with the smallest pull. The thing to do is never to let go of the secure one till you have tried the next one and satisfied yourself of its stability – or better still, never to trust yourself to one bush except while making an instantaneous change, but hold by two always. But I say, Jack, how near are we to the end of our job?"

"Well," said Jack, taking out his memorandum book and studying the entries in it, "we have only about sixty more ties to send down. We have already sent a great deal more cord wood than we agreed to, but as to that the railroad people said 'the more the better,' and so with bridge timbers. We did not agree to furnish any particular number of them and I fancy the railroad people didn't expect us to send more than two or three, while in fact we have sent down twenty-nine and have six more nearly ready to send. My plan is to cut the remaining ties which we are permitted to furnish under our contract, send down the bridge timbers that we have ready or nearly so, cut up all the remains of the felled timber into cord wood and send that down, and then go down ourselves. Even if the trail were open, which it isn't likely to be for some weeks to come, I should favor going down over the cliffs instead, because that will land us near where we want to be, while if we went down by the trail we should have to walk fifteen miles to get there."

The camp was early astir next morning, for now that the thought of going home had come to them, the boys were eager to hasten the time for it.

"By working hard," said Jack, "we can turn out ten or twelve ties a day, or under favorable conditions twenty. At three o'clock to-day we'll begin working the chutes and as I reckon it we'll be ready to start down a little before the first of April, and that was the date set. The weather is fine now and growing finer every day."

"Yes," answered Harry, "and the days are growing long enough to enable us to do full days' work."

Under the new inspiration the axes were briskly used that day until three o'clock. Then all hands were called to help roll the big bridge timbers into place and send them down the mountain. Four of them were sent off, the others not being quite ready yet. But the handling of these big timbers was slow work and so night fell before any of the ties or cordwood could be sent down the chute. There were twenty-one ties ready and about thirty cords of wood. But these must wait until three o'clock the next day, and by that time the number of ties and the quantity of cord wood would be considerably increased.

CHAPTER XXXIV
In the Hands of the Enemy

Weary as they were with their over-energetic day's work, the boys went to bed early that night – all of them but Tom. That tireless Nimrod had found a bear's den the day before and was minded to go out and watch for the bear that inhabited it. "Your bear is a night prowler," he said, "and if I can catch this one going out of his den or into it to-night, I'll bring home a supply of meat. We're a trifle short of that commodity just now."

Several of the boys wanted to go with Tom, and the lieutenant, who had dined with them that evening, wanted to send two soldiers as his assistants.

"No," said Tom, "I don't want anybody with me. We'd inevitably talk, and then we'd never see a bear. I'll go alone."

With that he took his rifle and went out into the darkness, while the rest of the boys went to bed and to sleep.

As he neared the bear den which he had discovered during the day and identified by tracks, Tom moved very cautiously, making no noise, and, secreting himself between two rock masses, lay down to await developments.

Hour after hour passed, and there were none. Still Tom maintained an attitude of alert attention.

Presently a great light appeared over a spur of the mountain, in the direction of Camp Venture.

"There's something the matter over there," said Tom to himself, "but with all those soldiers there they don't need me half as much as they need a bear."

Just at that moment – it was about three o'clock in the morning – Tom heard a crackling of sticks near at hand, and a moment later a great black bear came waddling and lumbering along on his way to the den.

With that instinct of humorous perception which was strong in Tom, he could not help likening the belated beast to a convivial gentleman returning from his club in the small hours.

Then it occurred to him that convivial gentlemen under such circumstances are sometimes "held up" at their own door ways, a fact which still further heightened the resemblance between the two cases. It next occurred to Tom that should his shot prove ineffective or imperfectly effective, the bear might get the better of him, as convivial gentlemen sometimes do with footpads. For, from the point at which Tom was lying, there was no avenue of escape except directly in the path of the bear, and a wounded bear is about as ugly an enemy to encounter as it is possible to find anywhere.

"Moral: " said Tom to himself, "Don't shoot till you've got a bead on a vital point. Fortunately this rifle has an 'initial velocity' as they call it, which will send a bullet through the thickest skull that any animal in the world wears as a breastwork to his brains."

Of course Tom would have preferred to shoot at the animal's heart, but there was no chance to do that, for at that moment the great beast discovered his huntsman and presented his full front to him at a distance of less than ten feet. Another second and the bear would make mince meat of the boy. So Tom taking a hasty aim fired at the animal's forehead, and the bullet did its work so well that the beast fell instantly dead.

After waiting for a minute or so to see if any scratching capacity remained in his game, Tom went to the bear and after inspecting it muttered: "I've shot Ursa Major himself," for the bear was of unusual bulk, greatly the largest Tom had ever seen. "I wonder what the stars will look like now that the constellation of the Great Bear is done for."

The beast was much too heavy for Tom to carry or even drag to the camp. So he instantly set out in search of assistance. His plan was to go to the camp and secure three or four soldiers to assist him in transporting his game. But he had not gone far on his campward journey before he was "held up" by three mountaineers. Fortunately one of the party – apparently its leader – was his own particular mountaineer, the one whom he had set free and who had so generously repaid his favor with gifts of corn and rye meal.

"Now set down, little Tom," said the man; "we wants a little talk with you."

"All right," said Tom, "I'm ready."

"Well you see, you done tole me an' I done tole the other folks as how you boys had nothin' whatsomever to do with the revenue officers or the soldiers."

"That's all right," said Tom. "We haven't had anything to do with them, we haven't spied upon you fellows or molested you in any way."

"But there's a big gang o' soldiers an' revenue officers in your camp."

"Yes, I know that," said Tom. "But are we talking fair and square as we did before?"

"Yes, fa'r an' squar'," answered the man.

"Very well then, I'll tell you about this matter. We boys don't like your illegal occupation up here in the mountains, but it is none of our business. We have never spied out your stills and certainly we have given no information to the revenue officers."

"What did they come up here for then?" asked one of the mountaineer's companions.

"They came up to capture us. They had seen the lights of Camp Venture and had located us. So they thought they had a still sure, and they came up here to capture it. The first thing they did was to surround us and fire at us in the dark. I explained matters to them and they searched our camp all over. Then they decided to camp there till they could get some provisions from down below, and while they were waiting, they asked me to tell them where the stills were so that they might raid them for meal. I knew where some stills were of course, for I've seen a lot since I came up here, but I refused to tell them."

"Is that honest Injun, Tom?"

"Yes," answered the boy. "I never tell lies. But you must understand me clearly. I haven't the smallest respect for you moonshiners or for your business. Under ordinary circumstances I should not hesitate to tell the revenue officers where a still was if I happened to know. But I made a bargain with you, Bill Jones. I told you truly that we had come up here to cut railroad ties and not to interfere with you or your criminal business. I told you that if you'd let us alone we'd let you alone. We could have sent a message down the mountain by our chute any day which would have brought the soldiers and the revenue people up at once but we didn't. I had promised you and I have kept my promise."

"Yes," answered Bill Jones, "an' you let me off in a state prison case, jest in time to save my little gal from starvin' to death! I'll never forgit it, an' I tell you fellers you mustn't hurt little Tom. Ef you do, I'll stand on his side an' they'll be some ugly work done before you're through with it."

"Well," said one of the men, "he tells a mighty nice, slick story like, an' maybe it's true. But they's jest one question I'd like to ask him afore we close the conversation like."

"Ask me any question you please," said Tom, "and I'll answer it truly. I have nothing to conceal, and I never tell lies."

"Well," said the man after discharging a quid of tobacco from further service and biting off a new one to take its place, "what I want to know is what you'se been doin', out here in the mounting all night like."

"That's easy," said Tom. "I've been killing a bear."

"Where?" asked the man.

"About a quarter of a mile back. You see we're getting short of meat down there in camp, with all these soldiers quartered upon us."

"Then ef you done got a bear whar is it?" asked the man.

"It is back there, as I tell you, about a quarter of a mile."

"Why didn't you bring it with you?" asked the man.

"Simply because it is too heavy. It is the biggest bear I ever saw. I was on my way to camp, when you stopped me, to get some fellows to come out here and help me drag it."

"Will you show it to us?" asked the man, still incredulously. "Seein's believin' you know."

"Certainly," said Tom. "The little old moon is rising now, and you can get a good look at the bear that I've sat up all night to kill."

He led the way back and at sight of the bear even the incredulous one of the party was satisfied.

"Now," spoke up Bill Jones, "we've got jest one thing to do. Ef this bar is left here it'll be half et up by varmints afore men can be brought from the camp to carry it in. Fellers we've got to carry it in fer Little Tom – him what let me go jist in time to save my little gal from starvin' when her mother was lyin dead in the cabin an' fer two days the little gal hadn't so much as a bite to eat. We'll drag the bar to the camp fer Little Tom!"

One of the men offered an objection: "We'll git arrested ef we do," he said.

"For what?" asked Tom.

"Why fer moonshining of course."

"But you haven't been caught moonshining. Nobody in camp can accuse you of that or any other crime. Anyhow if you fellows will help me to camp with this bear I pledge you my honor that I'll stand by you and see to it that you're not arrested."

"That's 'nuff sed," said Bill Jones. "Little Tom never goes back on his word, an' he knows how to manage things. We'll take the bar to camp."

The men assented but with hesitation and obvious reluctance. Seeing their hesitation Bill Jones spoke again:

"Now I tell you, you needn't worry the least little bit. I know whereof I speak, as the Bible says, when I tell you that you kin bet all you've got on Little Tom Ridsdale. When he says a thing he means it an' when he means it he'll do it ef all the eggs in the basket gits broke."

"Thank you Bill," said Tom. "Anyhow I'll see that you fellows get safely out of our camp or else I'll go with you with my rifle in my hand."

The men seemed satisfied. Seizing the bear they dragged it campwards as the daylight began to grow strong. Before Camp Venture was reached the sun was well above the horizon, and as they approached Tom gained some notion of what had happened there and of what the blaze of the night before had signified. But well outside the camp his mountaineers dropped the bear and bade Tom good bye.

Not a vestige of the house in which the boys had lived all winter remained. Only the smoke of a still smoldering fire marked the place where it had been.