THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE FIELD HOSPITAL

BY SCOUT MASTER ROBERT SHALER

AUTHOR OF “BOY SCOUTS OF THE SIGNAL CORPS,” “BOY SCOUTS OF PIONEER CAMP,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SURVEY,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE LIFE SAVING CREW,” “BOY SCOUTS ON PICKET DUTY,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE FLYING SQUADRON,” “BOY SCOUTS AND THE PRIZE PENNANT,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE NAVAL RESERVE,” “BOY SCOUTS IN THE SADDLE,” “BOY SCOUTS FOR CITY IMPROVEMENT,” “BOY SCOUTS IN THE GREAT FLOOD,” “BOY SCOUTS WITH THE RED CROSS,” “BOY SCOUTS AS COUNTY FAIR GUIDES,” “BOY SCOUTS AS FOREST FIRE FIGHTERS,” ETC.

NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

Sterling Boy Scout Books

BY Scout Master Robert Shaler

Bound in cloth Fifteen titles

You can purchase any of the above books at the price you paid for this one, or the publishers will send any book, postpaid, upon receipt of 25c.

HURST & CO., Publishers 432 Fourth Avenue, New York

Copyright, 1915, by Hurst & Company

CHAPTER I. THE CAMP ON THE HURRICANE.

“The same old hard luck seems to follow our scout master wherever we go, Hugh!”

“It surely looks that way, Billy, for a fact.”

“After taking all the trouble to hunt around the country for a new camping place where the Oakvale Troop could open their summer campaign, here the scout master has to be called back home with his mother coming down sick.”

“It was too bad, Billy, and Lieutenant Denmead looked as if he had met with a bitter disappointment. Having his old mother ill would be bad enough at any time, but to have it happen just now seemed doubly hard. I know he looked forward to a week or so of rest and recreation up here.”

“Well, all my sympathy is with the lieutenant; I’m not wasting any on the bunch of scouts gathered here around these tents, let me tell you, Hugh. They’ll be just as well looked after by our efficient assistant scout master.”

“It’s nice of you to say that, Billy, even if not true. I’ll try my level best to please you, but if I succeed it will only be because I’ve got such a splendid lot of fellows to work with.”

“What d’ye think of the place our scout master picked out for us, Hugh?”

“Couldn’t be much better, it seems to me, Billy. We’ve got mountain scenery and running water. We can take long hikes to the top of the range there; and at the same time get to a town inside of an hour if we want to. The combination is pretty nearly perfect I should say in so far as that goes.”

The stout boy in khaki, Billy Worth, looked quickly up at the face of his companion, Hugh Hardin. Evidently there must have been some little intonation connected with the last part of the other’s remark that aroused a sudden suspicion in his mind.

“Something you don’t appear to like about it, Hugh,” he remarked. “Has it anything to do with this rapid river, which might be dangerous to a fellow not knowing how to swim, or take care of himself?”

“I wasn’t thinking about that just then, Billy; and besides, all the boys, so far as I know, are good swimmers—unless it’s that new recruit, Harold Tremaine; and we’ve got to find out considerable about him on this trip.”

“Then perhaps you happen to know something about the farmers of this section, and that they’ll raise a kick against scouts crossing their fields; how about that guess, Mr. Scout Master?”

“Still shy more or less, Billy,” the other told him. “To relieve your mind, since I see you’re bound to get the truth, I’ll tell you what it is. I understand that a couple of miles away toward the west of this place, there’s a big establishment or cement works where they employ a couple of hundred workmen.”

“Why, yes, I believe that’s so,” interrupted Billy. “It’s called the Samson Cement Company, seems to me. But what’s that got to do with us scouts, Hugh?”

“I hope it isn’t going to have anything to do with us,” came the reply, as something like a slight frown appeared on Hugh’s forehead. “But it happens that there’s some sort of trouble going on at the works.”

“A strike, do you mean?” ejaculated Billy, becoming deeply interested at once, for he was a boy who delighted in action and adventure of all kinds.

“Yes, and they say that it’s developing into a bitter struggle, too. The men are mostly foreigners, and their wives are worse than the workers. If strike-breakers are brought up from Boston, as there was talk of the company doing, there might possibly be a pitched battle between the strikers and the guards who act as deputies.”

“Whew! You don’t say!” cried Billy, with a whistle that marked his interest in the news. “But, Hugh, if we make it a point to keep away from that section of country in our hikes there’s no reason why we should get mixed up in any of this ugly business, that I can see.”

“Perhaps not,” the scout master continued, “but if these ignorant foreigners begin to feel the pinch of hunger pretty soon, they may take to raiding orchards and fields of the farmers, and then there will be the mischief to pay. They don’t bother much about the rights of property when they can see no sign of officers around. And if they happen to discover some of our troop, they may think from our uniforms we’re members of the State Militia, sent secretly to camp here so as to arrest them when they get to acting vicious.”

“Hugh, I can see now where we might get into trouble. If Lieutenant Denmead had dreamed of anything like this, the chances are he would never have selected a camp so near the cement works. It’s too late to make a change of base now, I reckon.”

“Yes, we’ve got things all nicely fixed for a stay, Billy, and we’ll have to try and not get mixed up in any of this strike business.”

“That reminds me that I saw three men walking up that country road a while back when I was taking a look around; and, Hugh, they were foreigners, as sure as anything. We may have to keep watch nights so as not to suffer from a raid on our stores.”

“Oh! I don’t think that would happen,” said Hugh, immediately. “These men are ignorant and foreigners but we mustn’t believe them to be a nest of thieves. Only when they see their women and children suffering from lack of proper food they might be tempted to resort to violence. In one way you could hardly blame the men for taking what don’t belong to them in order to save the lives so precious to them.”

From where the two boys reclined at their ease, they could look at the tents of waterproofed canvas that had been pitched with such skill as scouts learn to show after they have had frequent practice. Several lads were bustling around, tidying up the camp, looking after the fires and apparently making ready for rather a lengthy and enjoyable stay.

Close by ran the river, a brawling stream of quite some size, and also deep in places. It was said to contain plenty of fish, so that the scouts anticipated enjoying more than one chowder during their stay on its high bank. While they had no boat with them, that was not going to debar them from making frequent use of the stream for bathing purposes.

Hugh and Billy belonged to the Wolf Patrol of the Oakvale Troop. They were among the charter members or “early settlers” as Billy called them, having helped organize the initial patrol.

By degrees there had come other patrols, known as the Hawks, the Otters, the Fox, and the Owls, and the members of all of these were now in camp on the Hurricane River. The first mentioned patrol had for leader Walter Osborne; Alec Sands had charge of the lively Otters; while Don Miller was looked up to as the head of the Fox adjunct.

A retired army officer had taken charge of the troop, and devoted much of his time to building up the organization, having the development of boy character as his impetus. On this particular occasion, as we have learned from the conversation between Hugh and Billy, Lieutenant Denmead had been called away, which he had undoubtedly regretted very much, just after their camp was started.

In other seasons some of these enterprising scouts had managed to enjoy certain outings which have been described at length in the earlier volumes of this series. For the full particulars of these happenings, the reader will have to be referred to those books, every one of which will be found teeming with adventure, useful information, accounts of scout activities, and all such things as boys with red blood in their veins love to read about.

Some of them had seen service with the genuine army signal corps; on another occasion they had been enabled to work in conjunction with the maneuvers of the State Militia on their annual training trip, when a mock battle was fought in which the scouts took a prominent part.

A few of the boys on a visit to Florida had a chance to assist the life-savers of the coast in rescuing survivors from a wreck; then there was another time when some of them accompanied the Naval Reserve Corps aboard a war vessel placed at their disposal by the National Government, which gave the lads a splendid opportunity to pick up much valuable information connected with naval affairs.

Under the energetic leadership of Hugh Hardin, the scouts had undertaken to clean up their town in order to assist the Women’s Civic Organization, which alone and unaided had found the task beyond their power. That triumph alone would have been enough to make the scouts respected in the community, even if they had not in numerous other ways proved their efficiency.

The latest exploit in which some of the Wolf Patrol members were concerned had taken place at some distance away from the home town. They chanced to be sent to Lawrence on business early in the spring at just the time when there came a terrible rain, and a flood that put the whole country under water. Being kept from returning home by a break in the railroad embankment, Hugh and his chums proved themselves energetic workers, and by enthusing the local troop of scouts to work like beavers in rescuing imperiled persons, they not only did a vast amount of good but revived the flagging interest of the organization, so that from that day Lawrence Boy Scout stock boomed.

With all these successful doings scattered along the pages of their short history, the scouts of Oakvale had reason to feel proud of the badges some of them wore. From scout headquarters in New York City had come medals such as are only given to those who save human life at peril to themselves; for the enthusiastic Lawrence people had seen to it that a record of the achievements of the wide-awake visitors to their town on that momentous occasion was forwarded to the proper officials, with a request that their efforts be duly recognized in the proper way.

“Hello! Sounds to me like some of the boys have started to bathe, even if the sun is burning hot for a June day!” remarked Billy Worth, as sounds of splashing, accompanied by boisterous sounds, came to their ears.

Hugh sat up and looked a trifle anxious.

“I’m sorry they were in such a rushing hurry,” he remarked. “I meant to give them one more caution about risking that fierce current out there. The river is unusually high for early summer, on account of recent rains, and I would hate to get caught in that swirl myself, stout swimmer that I am.”

“Same here, Hugh!” declared Billy Worth, as he started to get on his feet. “Let’s walk over there, and you can tell the fellows what you think about it. I’m more concerned about that new tenderfoot, Tremaine, than any of the old members. He seems to be a bundle of nerves, and inclined to be rash. That’s just the kind of chap to take chances, so as to make the rest think him some punkins.”

“All right! Come on, Billy. I’ll feel easier in my mind——”

Hugh stopped short in what he was saying. A sudden chorus of excited cries rang out, coming from the river where the scouts were bathing.

“Scoot for it, Hugh!” barked Billy, often called “Billy the Wolf” by his chums. “I reckon what we were just talking about has happened. I heard someone shriek that Tremaine was drowning! I’m at your heels, Hugh, all right!”

CHAPTER II. A CLOSE CALL IN THE RAPIDS.

It took Hugh and Billy only a dozen seconds to clear the intervening ground to reach the scene, such was the speed with which they ran.

On reaching the bank of the river, Hugh saw that it was just as he had feared. Out in the midst of the boiling current, where the foam leaped and there were evidently dangerous rapids of some sort, a boy was struggling madly. He had evidently been attempting to swim across that dangerous place when attacked by cramps; either that or else he had been thrown against a concealed rock and struck his head so as to become staggered and frightened.

Billy Worth may have wondered why Hugh led him to the river below where the outcries arose, instead of heading directly toward them; but he now realized the wisdom of the move.

As usual, Hugh had grasped the situation and understood that there would be an advantage in reaching the river bank below the scene of the accident, rather than further up the current. It was always this way with the scout master; and many of his successes were due to his ability to do the right thing in the start.

As he ran, Hugh had thrown off his hat, and even unfastened his flannel shirt, for he had a premonition that it might be necessary for him to plunge into the river. Now he tore off his shoes, and his trousers followed suit; all this taking but a very few seconds of time.

All of the other scouts had not been paralyzed with fright, for Ralph Kenyon, Bud Morgan and Alec Sands were even then splashing through the shallow water close to the shore, and evidently trying to make their way below the spot where the boy was struggling with the current.

Hugh shouted to them even as he sprang into the water:

“Keep on going down, and make a chain out as far as you can, everybody! Billy, you follow me!”

Billy had been just as rapid in disposing of his clothes as Hugh, so that he was close at the other’s heels when the scout master hurried into the stream.

It grew deeper as Hugh pushed on. Presently he was compelled to swim, and that was where his knowledge of aquatic sports served him well. His sturdy strokes allowed him to buffet the waves of the rapids; while his quick eye figured the course he must take in order to keep below the drowning boy.

Hugh realized that there was every probability that the struggles of the tenderfoot would cease before he could reach him. That was the main reason why he wanted to be where he might intercept the helpless form of Tremaine when it was borne along with the current.

He shouted encouraging words when he could do so without having his mouth filled with the foamy water. It is doubtful whether the imperiled scout heard these cries. At least he was too far exhausted to keep up the struggle long enough for Hugh to reach his side.

“Oh, he’s sunk, Hugh!” came a shout behind the leader of the Wolf Patrol.

Hugh knew this without being told. He had figured it all out, and understood just when the helpless figure would reach him. In imagination he was following its rapid progress with his eye; and with such precision that, sure enough, he was enabled to seize hold of the boy.

Then came a desperate struggle, for it was difficult to keep his clutch on the slippery form of the helpless lad and at the same time buffet the current of the worst place in the rapids.

Fortunately, indeed, for them both, Billy Worth was close at hand to lend his aid. Billy was a stout swimmer, and between them they managed to keep Tremaine’s head out of the water as they allowed the current to carry them down.

Presently they had arrived at a stretch where the river broadened out somewhat, and here Alec Sands and the others had stretched themselves in a human chain with the leader of the Otters as the outermost link.

Once upon a time Alec Sands had been a bitter rival of Hugh, and had even done numerous mean things in order to overreach the latter; but since then Alec had learned to esteem his former enemy because of his manly nature, and nowadays they were the best of friends.

It was meet that Alec’s should be the hand to obtain a grip on Hugh and begin to tow the two swimmers ashore, bearing their limp burden between them.

“Oh, is he dead, Hugh, and is our summer outing going to be broken up right in the very start?” cried Tom Sherwood, who had run down from the camp by this time and was waiting for them on the shore.

“I hope it isn’t as bad as that,” replied Hugh. “Carry him up on the bank, so we can get busy. He wasn’t under the water long, and I expect he will soon be all to the good. I think he must have struck his head on a sunken rock, and that made him dizzy. Then he became frightened, and when a swimmer gets in a panic, it’s going to be a bad lookout for him.”

They laid young Tremaine down on his stomach, with his head raised a little. Hugh placed himself over him, with his knees planted against the ribs of the unconscious boy. He commenced pressing downward regularly with both hands, pumping just as one might breathe. This was to force the water and air out of the lungs, and allow them to fill again with oxygen. It took the part of natural respiration.

Meanwhile the others were all doing something to assist in the work of restoration. Alec vigorously rubbed one of Tremaine’s legs to induce a warmth and get the blood circulating. Another was holding the boy’s head in such a way that his tongue might not slip back.

Fortunately, the time of Tremaine’s immersion had not been of long duration; and under these vigorous efforts of the energetic life-savers, he soon opened his eyes.

Shortly afterward he was able to sit up, though he still felt weak. Everyone experienced a great sensation of relief. The sudden black cloud that had fallen on the new camp had drifted away, thanks to their intimate knowledge of what was required in a case of near-drowning.

There is not a summer passes but that the precious lives of scores of boys are imperiled when in swimming; and since the scout movement took root in this country, the records show that in innumerable instances fatal results have been avoided simply through the knowledge that membership in that organization entails on all who expect to attain the rank of second or first-class scout.

Tremaine admitted that he had been very unwise to undertake that passage of the rushing rapids. He seemed humble enough, and thankful that he had such loyal and dependable comrades near at hand.

“I’ve always boasted about my swimming,” he contritely explained to Hugh, after the scout master had gently taken him to task for his recklessness, “and I think I could have made the crossing all right only for that wave dashing me against a sunken rock. It clipped me on the side of the head, and made me feel sick. After that I guess I got scared and near frantic, for I felt that I was in danger of being drowned out there in all that foam and swirling waters. But I’ve had a lesson, Hugh, and I promise you after this ‘I’ll look before I leap.’”

“A good motto for every scout to keep in mind,” remarked Alec Sands, who was hovering near, since he had taken quite a liking for the new boy. “I used to be just as quick on the trigger as you, Harold; and let me tell you it got me into no end of scrapes. I’m beginning to see things differently now; and a heap of that is due to my knowing Hugh Hardin better.”

If Hugh heard these last words as he hurried away to hunt up the several parts of his clothes, they must have given him considerable satisfaction. Making a friend out of a bitter enemy was always a favorite diversion of the young scout master; and nothing he ever did gave him more deep-seated pleasure than the conversion of Alec Sands.