The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-02-27
Of Tale
of the
Hatwoods

ward the narrow valleys head where
the Northumberland roof Of a
squalid cabin could barely be seen
through the trees. A slow sternness
crawled into his eyes; he dropped the
butt of the shotgun to the leaves ;
leaned upon it. and stood staring
down at the road.
Gradually, as he stared, there grew
upon him the consciousness of an out
line of single footprint at the other
side of the road-detached, alone, ap-
leading either to It or from 1t. The
singular fact of its seemingly perfect
isolation slowly reached him, and won
a place among the troop Of thoughts
that gTipped him.
He studied 1t closely a moment,
grunted and then grinned.
Uncle Nick" he muttered. Heel
deepest-he's jumped-where fromT
He glanced at the other side of the
road where the take-off must have
been to land leap just there and
after short search found where the
old mans boot had scraped the moss
little in making the spring.
admin fr that slab of sandstone"
he chuckled, his eyes losing mite Of
their hardness, ''fell a bit shy and
landed In the soft dirt-mighty good
jump, at that, fr man with eighty
odd years on is back"
STOPPING again over the Isolated
footprint, he examined it with closest
attention, trying at the same time to
call up all the lore of the trail that
the old ranger had taken such pride
in teaching him-the wise and won
derful ways Of woodcraft that he had
taken an equal pride in learning.
until, next to Uncle Nick himself, he
was known to be the most skllful
he looked, a grass stem that had
been bent down and slightly hung In
the soil suddenly loosed and straight
ened.
''Hot trail, OF scoutmaster," he NUT
tered, In the half spoken soliloQuy that
nature sometimes teaches her favor
ties. "And there y'u go. pickin' y'ur
steps SOS t hit the hard spots and
miss the soft ones"
A sudden thoughtfulness crossed his
face. Il wonder why y'u're so p'tic'-
lar T. hide y'ur trail, though-there
amt no Pottawattomies t find II no
more. Mebbe the woods jlst filled y'u |
s. full this wonderful morning, like
they have me, that y'u can't help |
playin' a while at the OF war game Of |
the trail. Well, I'll play with y'u-
and I'll run y'u down b'fore the
shadow of the bluffs climbs out Of the |
crick."
After searching glance in every
direction, so keen and critical that II
appeared to handle with minuteness
every bush and tree within range Of
his eye, and a further moment spent
In sounding the woods for any false
note they might carry, he threw the
shotgun into the hollow Of his well
arm and took up the trail
1t led across the two or three rods
If broken ground between the road
and the little stream, which, at that
point, sparkled along over a shallow
-iffle Once, as his old friend had
sprung from stone to stone in cross
ng, his boot had slipped and gone
nto the water. After that every al
ornate stone on which he had
stepped, was still damp from the wet
,oot.
Jack had followed to a point well
within sight of Loge Belden's cabin
When, barely a hundred yards ahead,
lie caught a glimpse of a man stealing
rom cover TO cover-just a flash as
lie fitted from one hazel thicket to
but that was enough. That
all form, erect as an Indian, those
ron-gray locks. falling loosely from
nder the quaint old cap of hand
ressed coonskin. could belong to tut J
ne man In the worldwide Nick.
Jack instantly darted to cover and
egan stalking the old ranger. Barely
fly yards separated them when, as
e peeped from behind an oak, he saw
ne old man steal out from dense
licket of wild grape-vlnes. dart across
n open space and throw himself fiat
ehind a decaying log.
Crawling up behind a huge sugar :
laple that stood barely more than a =
ID from the log, Jack rose to his feet,
grin spreading over his face as he
fought of the surprise he WAS about I;
} spring upon his old friend.
He was just bracing himself for the
lsh when hand fell upon his Shout
ar, and, whirling with sudden startle-
ent, he found himself looking with
olish vacancy into the quizzically
eyes of-Uncle Nick.
At sight of his young friends be-
lldered face the shoulders of the old
inter shook with merriment. though
It a sound passed his lips-the silent
lighter that long years in the woods,
hen they were dangerous. had taught
m.
ITO BE CONTINJJED)