Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey, by Robert Shaler

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Title: The Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey

Author: Robert Shaler

Release Date: July 19, 2004 [EBook #12945]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEOLOGICAL SURVEY ***

Produced by Jim Ludwig

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SURVEY

By Scout Master Robert Shaler

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
    I. The Golden Feather
   II. A Timely Suggestion
  III. The Combat on the Cliff
   IV. A Night in the Woods
    V. Friends at the Farm
   VI. A Nocturnal Visitor
  VII. Boy Scout Detectives
 VIII. The Surveying Squad
   IX. Awaiting a Decision
    X. Camp Life
   XI. The New Project
  XII. An Illustrious Example
 XIII. The Result of the Surveys

CHAPTER I

THE GOLDEN FEATHER

"This was a pretty fair catch, for a change," thought Ralph Kenyon, as he tied the limp animal to his pack-saddle, and reset the trap, hoping next time to catch the dead mink's larger mate. He ran a quick, appraising eye over the load slung across Keno's broad back. "Pretty good, eh, old boy?" he added aloud, stroking the velvety nose of his dumb companion on many a solitary hunt. "Now, Keno, you hang around, and browse on these young cottonwoods, while I do some figuring. I want to see what I'm likely to get for this next shipment of pelts."

The old horse, nothing loath, obeyed his young master's behest as promptly as though he had fully understood the words. Meanwhile, Ralph found a mossy spot on the shady side of a big gray, lichen-covered boulder, and, seating himself thereon, with his back comfortably adjusted to a depression in the rock, he drew a worn account book from a pocket of his corduroy coat. Moistening his thumb he began to turn the pages rapidly, until he came to the place where he had made the last entry in his accounts. With a stubby pencil, which he had taken from another pocket, he jotted down the new items:

"So far, one mink, six coon, three skunk, a gray fox, and seventeen rabbit skins. All told it ought to bring—-let me see." He relapsed into silence, as he estimated the total, and then he sighed deeply. "Not very much," was his inward comment; "not anywhere near enough!"

Ralph felt that it was high time that he brought to a close his season's operations with trap and gun. The spring was unusually early this year, and the fallow truck patches were fairly clamoring for his attention. Yet he was reluctant to abandon his winter pursuit of pelts and to return to the sterner and less thrilling labor of ploughing and planting and peddling vegetables.

Not that he was averse to hard work—-far from it! Ralph Kenyon was as industrious, energetic, and sensible a young fellow as one would wish to know; yet, being a very average, normal lad, and at that age when love of freedom and adventure is foremost, he naturally preferred the varied life of a huntsman and trapper—-even though his field of activity was not extensive—-to the moiling occupation of a market gardener.

On the other hand, there were times when he thoroughly enjoyed the labor of wresting a livelihood from the soil, and he took pride in raising the choicest products that could be offered for sale. Such spells were most frequent in midsummer, when all nature was in a placid mood for growth; but in autumn and spring came livelier hopes and a stronger call to this lad, and in his own way he set about accomplishing the chief aim of his life, the great end to which these winter pursuits were but a means.

After the death of his father, which had occurred less than a month after his graduation from High School, Ralph had taken the responsibility of the small farm upon his eighteen-year-old shoulders, bravely putting aside his cherished plans for a course in the School of Mines until he could save the necessary funds from his individual earnings. That was a year ago. In the interval he had found an opportunity to study the principles of surveying, and for two weeks he had acted as guide to a party of university students doing research work in his native hills. For this service he had been paid twenty-five dollars—-which had been promptly banked as a nucleus of his college fund.

How simple and easy it had seemed, earning his way through the School of Mines, while talking with those enthusiastic young collegians and their professor! How well he remembered the things they had said, the advice they had given him! Yet now, after eight months of hard work, constant hunting in the woods, and rigid economy, he seemed no nearer the goal than he had been when the portals of High School closed behind him forever. In fact, just as he was now placed in his prospects he faced a bitter discouragement; he was on the threshold of a new calamity.

His mother, who took in fine sewing, had developed a serious eye trouble that threatened to put an end to her earning power, and to leave her totally blind unless she submitted to a very delicate operation within a few weeks. Of course, his mother's welfare was stronger than any other consideration with Ralph, but he had a vague idea that operations cost a great deal of money. At least, he had been told so by his nearest neighbor, Tom Walsh, a farmer who lived several miles from the town of Oakvale, which was the station from whence he would have to take his mother by train to New York. A day's journey, a week or more in the hospital, and incidental expenses—-even with the aid of his precious hoard and the inadequate sum these furs would bring him—-how could he ever raise enough to help her, in time?

With another deep sigh, he replaced the worn account book, and rested his head against the mossy hollow in the stone, gazing disconsolately up through the branches of the trees at the jagged cliffs that towered high above the mountain trail for a while, nothing was heard in ravine or glade save the brawling of the crystal-clear brook that went dashing and tumbling over the stones of its rough bed, in a mad race to its fall of twenty feet or more, or the crunching of succulent twigs and leaves of cottonwood, or the snapping of dead wood, as old Keno moved leisurely about from one spot to another. Side by side, on a jutting crag that leaned far out over the brook, sat a splendid pair of golden eagles, joyously preening their plumage in the spring sunshine. The birds aroused no special interest in Ralph's mind, however, on this particular morning; he had seen them many times before, while rambling over the mountains with his father. But the sight of their glittering napes awakened memories of that loved and admired man.

"Dad used to say—-and I guess he believed it, too—-that iron in paying quantities lies just beneath the stones of our little farm," mused Ralph. "We might become rich, mother and I, if we could only get money enough to open up our mine."

One of the eagles, rare birds in that part of the Country, evidently alarmed or annoyed at the approach of some intruder on their domain, some animal or human being Unseen by Ralph, thrust out its head, opened its beak, and uttered a harsh