CHAPTER I

BOUND FOR LAKE SURPRISE

"Phil, please tell me we're nearly there!"

"I'd like to, Lub, for your sake; but the fact of the matter is we've got about another hour of climbing before us, as near as I can reckon."

"Oh! dear, that means sixty long minutes of this everlasting scrambling over logs, and crashing through tangled underbrush. Why, I reckon I'll have the map of Ireland in red streaks on my face before I'm done with it."

At that the other three boys laughed. They were not at all unfeeling, and could appreciate the misery of their fat companion; but then Lub had such a comical way of expressing himself, and made so many ludicrous faces, that they could never take him seriously.

They were making their way through one of the loneliest parts of the great Adirondack regions. There might not be a living soul within miles of them, unless possibly some guide were wandering in search of new fields.

The regular fishermen and tourists never came this way for many reasons; and the only thing that had brought these four well-grown boys in the region of Surprise Lake was the fact that one of them, Phil Bradley, owned a large mountain estate of wild land that abutted on the western shore of the lake.

All of the lads carried regular packs on their backs, secured with bands that passed across their foreheads, thus giving them additional advantages. In their hands they seemed to be gripping fishing rods in their cases, as well as some other things in the way of tackle boxes and bait pails.

Apparently Phil and his chums were bent on having the time of their lives upon this outing. Laden in this fashion, it was no easy task they had taken upon themselves to "tote" such burdens from the little jumping-off station up the side of the mountain, and then across the wooded plateau. There was no other way of getting to Lake Surprise, as yet, no wagon road at all; which accounted for its being visited only by an occasional fisherman or hunter.

Each year such places become fewer and fewer in the Adirondacks; and in time to come doubtless a modern hotel would be erected where just then only primitive solitude reigned.

Of course Lub (who at home in school rejoiced in the more aristocratic name of Osmond Fenwick) being heavily built, suffered more than any of his comrades in this long and arduous tramp. He puffed, and groaned, but stuck everlastingly at it, for Lub was not the one to give in easily, no matter how he complained.

Besides these two there was Raymond Tyson, a tall, thin chap, who was so quick to see through nearly everything on the instant that his friends had long ago dubbed him "X-Ray," and as such he was generally known.

The last of the quartette was Ethan Allan. He claimed to be a lineal descendant of the famous Revolutionary hero who captured Ticonderoga from the British by an early morning surprise. Ethan was very fond of boasting of his illustrious ancestor, and on that account found himself frequently "joshed" by his chums.

It happened that Ethan's folks were not as well off in this world's goods as those of his chums; and he was exceedingly sensitive about this fact. Charity was his bugbear; and he would never listen to any of the others standing for his share of the expense, when they undertook an expedition like the present.

Ethan was a smart chap. He knew considerable about the woods, and all sorts of things that could be found there. And he had hit upon an ingenious method for laying up a nice little store of money whereby he could keep his savings bank well filled with ready cash, and thus proudly meet his share of expenses.

In the winter he used to spend all his spare time out at a farm owned by an uncle, where he had traps, and managed to catch quite a few little fur-bearing denizens of the woods. Then in the summer and fall he knew just where the choicest mushrooms could be picked day after day in the early morning. He also had several deposits of wild ginseng and golden seal marked down, and many pounds of the dried roots did he ship to a distant city to be sold.

His success was enough to turn any boy's head, since he seemed to receive a price far above the top-notch quotations for such things. The head of the firm even took occasion to write, congratulating him on having sent a fox skin (really a dark red), which he claimed was as fine a black fox as he had ever seen, and worth a large sum of money. On another occasion it was to say that the dried ginseng Ethan had shipped was simply "magnificent," and that they took pleasure in remitting a price that they hoped would inspire him to renewed efforts.

Alas! how poor Ethan's pride would have taken a sad tumble had he ever so much as guessed that this very accommodating fur and root dealer was in reality an uncle of Phil Bradley, and that the whole thing was only a nice little plot on the part of the other three boys to assist Ethan without his knowing it.

That proved how much they thought of their chum; but should he ever discover the humiliating truth there was likely to be some trouble, on account of that pride of Ethan's.

It happened that Phil was an orphan, and had been left a very large property, the income from which he could never begin to spend in any sensible fashion. That accounted for his desire to assist Ethan; and while he felt that it was too bad to play such a trick, there seemed to be no other way in which the end they sought might be attained.

Raymond's folks, too, were wealthy, and he had really been sent up into the clear atmosphere of the Adirondacks to improve his health. Although the doctors did not really say he was threatened with signs of lung trouble, they advised that the boy, who had grown so fast at the expense of his strength, should live out of doors all he could for a year or two. He would then be able to catch up in school duties with little trouble.

The other three had by degrees come to look upon Phil as their leader; and indeed, he had all the qualities that go to make a successful pilot. They delighted to call themselves the "Mountain Boys." Really it had been Ethan Allan who originated that name, and no doubt at the time he had in mind those daring heroes of Revolutionary days who made themselves such a terror to the British under the title of "Green Mountain Boys."

Among other properties of which the Bradley estate consisted there was a tract of several thousand acres of wild land bordering on this mysterious Lake Surprise. Phil had heard a number of things about it that excited his curiosity. He had so far never set eyes on the place; when one of the other chums happened to suggest that it might make a splendid little outing, if they started to look in on the lonely estate.

One thing led to another, with the result that here they were heading toward the lake, and following a dim trail which had been described by an old guide who could not accompany them on account of other pressing engagements.

The boys were pretty good woodsmen, all but Lub, and they had not doubted their ability to find the lake.

"I think we're in luck about one thing," X-Ray was saying, as he toiled along sturdily, and wishing that he had as much stamina as Phil or Ethan; for somehow his legs seemed a bit shaky after so long and difficult a tramp, with all that burden piled on his back.

"As what?" asked Ethan, giving Phil a nudge, and thus calling attention to the fact that by degrees the puffing Lub had actually gone ahead, fastening his eyes on the winding trail, and evidently feeling that he was becoming quite a woodsman.

"Why, about that cabin the old guide Jerry Kane told us was on the shore of the lake. It'll save us building one, you know, if it's in any kind of a decent condition," the tall boy went on to say.

"Yes, that's a fact," Phil himself remarked; "I've been thinking so right along. I only hope we won't find some fishermen camped in it. Kane said that once in a long while some guide took a party over to Surprise; but that the tramp was so hard few gentlemen cared to try for it. There are lakes all around that offer just about as good fishing."

"I should think there'd be some pretty fine hunting around up here," remarked Ethan. "I've noticed quite a few signs of deer, and that was certainly the track of a big moose we saw. I'd like to run across one of that stripe. Never saw a wild moose in all my life."

"I wouldn't be surprised if some of us do meet one while we roam the woods around the little lake," Phil told him. "If I'm that lucky I want to take a picture of the beast, to add to my collection."

"And I reckon, now," suggested X-Ray, "that nearly every night you'll be setting traps, not to catch wild animals, but to make them take their own pictures. That's the main reason why you've come up here, isn't it, Phil?"

"Well, you know it's a sort of hobby of mine, and I've got all the apparatus for taking flashlight pictures along with me. I started in to the business just to kill time; but let me tell you it grows on a fellow like everything. I'm something of a hunter myself, but this shooting with a camera beats anything else all hollow. Besides, you get your game, and yet don't injure it, which is the best of all."

Ethan laughed, and shook his head.

"But your pelts don't bring you in the hard cash, Phil, like mine do," he went on to say, with a touch of genuine pride in his voice. "S'pose now I'd just snapped off that black fox's picture instead of getting his paw in my steel Newhouse trap—it might have been all very well, but I'd be several hundred dollars shy right now."

X-Ray Tyson chuckled; but the other frowned and shook his head. It would never do to get Ethan's suspicions aroused. He was terribly persistent, and once on the scent would never give up until he had unearthed their clever little plot. Then good-by to peace among the Mountain Boys, for Ethan would never be apt to forgive them the deception.

"That's the main thing, after all, Ethan," Phil added. "One man's food is another man's poison. You enjoy your way of doing things, and I understand how that is, for I'm something of a hunter of small game myself; but I find more real delight in surprising a keen-nosed fox, or a night-roaming raccoon, and getting his photo than in blowing them over with a charge of shot."

"Think there could be any bear up around here, Phil?" asked Lub, over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't be surprised, and if we run across tracks I'll add to my collection."

"Mebbe we ought to have fetched a gun along," suggested X-Ray, who was not much of a hunter himself, though fond of any kind of game when it was cooked at a camp-fire.

"Well, that would have brought us into trouble with the game wardens," Phil replied.

At this point they were interrupted by a cry from Lub, who was on his hands and knees in the midst of the scrub, where he had evidently caught his foot in a vine, and gone sprawling down on account of his clumsiness.

High above the exclamation from the lips of their fat companion they could hear a fierce growling sound, and about ten feet beyond Lub they saw the crouching body of a very large and angry bobcat, with blazing yellow eyes, and every hair on its back standing up on edge, as it got ready to spring.

CHAPTER II

LUB, AND THE MOTHER BOBCAT

"Keep still, everybody!" said Phil, grasping the perilous situation instantly.

"Gee whiz! look at its eyes staring, will you?" gasped X-Ray, appalled by the ferocious aspect of the crouching beast, which was squatted on a log just a few paces beyond poor kneeling and terrorized Lub.

"Phil, oh! Phil, tell me what I ought to do!" they heard the fat chum saying in rather a faint voice; all the while doubtless keeping his strained eyes glued on that dreadful apparition.

"It's a mother wildcat, and she's got kits somewhere near by," Phil was saying steadily. "That's what makes her so fierce in the daytime. Lub, can you hear me plainly?"

He did not elevate his voice in the least, not wishing to do anything out of the ordinary so as to excite the angry beast further, and cause it to jump.

"Yes, sure I can; go on and tell me, Phil," whined the other, appealingly, and remaining on his hands and knees as though absolutely incapable of moving.

"Don't be alarmed," Phil went on to say. "I've got my revolver in my hand, and if it comes to the worst I'll shoot. The other boys will yell like everything, too, and that might make her sheer off. But first try and back up, just as you are. Careful now, and do it as easy as you can, Lub."

They saw the fat boy begin to cautiously extend one foot backwards. When there came a warning snarl he instantly stiffened out as though he had been turned into stone.

"Try it some more," Phil told him, "go carefully, but never mind the growls. When she sees you're retreating she'll be satisfied, let's hope."

So Lub did as he was told, for his nature was rather docile. It could be seen that he was holding himself in readiness to flatten out on his stomach in case of hostile demonstrations on the part of the wildcat. No doubt he expected that he could in this way manage to protect his face from her claws; while the pack on his back would serve him in good stead there.

Phil, however, had rightly gauged the intention of the mother beast. She was only standing up for her whelps, and so long as they were not placed in peril she did not mean to attack that crowd of two-legged enemies.

The further Lub got away from the danger zone the more rapidly he began to move his plump legs. Presently he felt Ethan lay hold of his foot, at which he gave a gasping cry, under the impression that it must be the mate of the enraged bobcat which had attacked him from the rear.

"It's all right, Lub," Ethan hastened to say, reassuringly, for he had not intended to frighten the other; "you're among friends now; and see there how the old cat slinks away, still growling and looking daggers at us with those yellow eyes of hers. Wow! she would have given us a warm time of it, I'm telling you!"

"Did you get her photo, Phil?" demanded X-Ray; "because I heard the click, after you'd swung your little camera around."

"Yes, when I saw that she didn't mean to tackle us," replied the other, "I remembered that I ought to have something to show for Lub's adventure. Guess you'll be glad to have a print of your friend, Lub; it'll be a nice thing to look at on a hot summer day; because you'll always have a chill chase up and down your spinal column, when you think what would have happened if you'd come to close quarters with that cat."

"And talk about the map of Ireland on your face," added Ethan; "more'n likely you'd call it one of Europe, with every river plainly marked."

Lub was mopping his face with his red bandanna. All the color had fled, leaving him as white as a ghost; but under the manipulation of his handkerchief that was being speedily rectified.

"I think I'll drop back a bit, and let some of the rest of you fellows take the lead from now on," Lub told them, contritely, "I ought to have known better than to try and show off when I'm such a greeny about following a trail."

"You were doing all right," Phil told him, "and making a good job of it up to that time. Who'd ever expect that we'd run across a bobcat in the middle of the afternoon; and one that had kits at that? I'd have had just as bad a shock as you got, Lub, if it was me in the lead. No need of feeling ashamed; the sight of that thing was enough to give any hunter a bad scare, especially if he had no gun along."

This sort of consolation served to make poor Lub better satisfied; though doubtless he would continue to feel unusually nervous for some little time. If a chipmunk stirred in the trash under a dead tree Lub was apt to draw a long breath, and involuntarily shrink back behind one of his companions.

"Guess we'd better make a detour around that bunch of scrub, eh, Phil?" remarked Ethan, sagely.

"Well, it would be a wise thing to do," chuckled the other; "because just now we haven't lost any bobcat that we know about. The trail seems to be heading pretty straight right here; and chances are we'll have little trouble running across the same some little ways on."

Both he and Ethan took a good survey of their surroundings, but evidently the wildcat was still hiding amidst that scrub, for they saw nothing of her again while making the half circuit.

"Now keep your eyes peeled for the trail again, Ethan," advised Phil, when they were well around on the other side of the danger spot.

Lub managed to push along until he could find himself in the midst of the bunch. He cast numerous side glances in the direction of that disputed ground, as though half anticipating seeing a whole army of ferocious bobcats come leaping forth, all with blazing yellow eyes and stubby tails.

Nothing of the kind happened, however, and presently Ethan was heard calling:

"Here's your old trail, Phil, as plain as print. And d'ye know, there's only one thing I'm sorry about, which is that you didn't think to snap off a picture with our chum on his hands and knees backing off, and the cat on the log."

"Well, I'm glad myself there wasn't any chance to keep that accidental tumble of mine as a perpetual joke," said Lub, indignantly.

"Nothing to be ashamed about at all, Lub," remarked X-Ray; "and I reckon now if it had been Ethan himself who stumbled when he caught his foot in a vine, and then found himself face to face with a mad cat he'd have been near paralyzed too."

This seemed to mollify Lub somewhat, though he hardly liked that reference to his having been paralyzed very much.

They pushed on resolutely and the minutes passed. Phil on hearing Lub puffing and seeing that X-Ray lagged a little, cheered both of them up by declaring that the time was now short.

"It wouldn't surprise me a whit," he said, cheerily, "to get a glimpse of the lake any time now, through the trees. Unless all my calculations are faulty we must be on my land right now."

"That sounds good to me, Phil," asserted X-Ray, joyously, as he took a fresh spurt, and no longer limped as though he had a stone bruise on his heel.

Even Lub grinned until his red face looked like a newly risen sun.

"We'll all be mighty glad to get there, believe me!" he declared; "and think of the jolly time we'll have preparing our first supper in the woods. This big aluminum frying pan of Phil's has kept digging me in the ribs right along, until I'm afraid there's a black and blue spot there; but I mean to take my revenge good and plenty when we fill it full of onions and potatoes and such fine things. Take another squint ahead, Phil, and see if you can't give us real good news."

"Well, just as sure as anything I see what looks like water!" called out Phil, with an eager tremor in his voice.

"Whereabouts, Phil? Oh! I hope now, you're not joshing us?" Lub demanded.

"Stop just where you are, everybody," the pilot of the expedition told them, "and watch where I'm pointing. If you follow my finger you can see if I've made a mistake or not. How about it, X-Ray? You've got the best eyes of the crowd, I guess."

"It's water, all right, Phil," replied the other, glad that he could be accounted as best in something.

"And that means Lake Surprise, doesn't it?" questioned Ethan Allan.

"Yes, because it's the only body of water for miles around here," Phil continued. "That's one reason they let it alone so much. Other lakes lie in bunches, and a canoe can be taken over a carry from one to another in the chain; but Surprise is an awful lonely sheet of water."

"And that's how it must have got its name," added Ethan. "All the while nobody dreamed there was any such lake up here; and then all at once a wandering guide must have run headlong on the same, to his surprise."

"Wish we were there on the bank right now," grunted Lub.

"Another mile, perhaps half of that, ought to take us to the water," he was assured by Phil; "and you see we are coming in from the west, which is all right, too, because my land lies on the western shore; and that cabin must be somewhere just ahead of us."