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قراءة كتاب The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp
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The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp
jaws, and I declare to goodness, he had a mouth big enough to swallow a sugar barrel, and that’s the honest truth, fellows.”
“I see plain enough that we’re due for some rattling lively times while we’re down in old Louisiana,“ remarked Smithy. “But if you don’t mind, Thad, please paddle your craft a little more to the left, because the breeze is blowing straight from you to us, and, well, you know what I mean.”
Bumpus was feeling so hilarious over seeing that great splash taken by his persecutor, Giraffe, that he did not pay the slightest attention to what Smithy said.
“You know, fellows,” the fat scout went on to remark, “up to now it’s been poor old Bumpus who’s generally gone overboard, or got in trouble like that; but seems as if times have changed, and now Giraffe, he wants to take his turn. If I’d been close enough, and had a boat-hook handy, sure I’d a got it fast in the collar of your jacket, Giraffe. And I’d a considered it a pleasure, too.”
“That’s right, I reckon you would, Bumpus; you’re an awful accommodating chum, ain’t you?” the tall scout sneered. “But see here, whatever am I to do now, Thad?”
“Sit in the sun, and let your duds dry on you!” suggested one comrade.
“The only trouble is, we have to bail out the boat, because he’s nearly flooded us right now,” Bob White asserted, beginning to get busy with a big sponge.
“Had I ought to make a change, Thad?” demanded Giraffe, ignoring these side thrusts, and appealing to the fountain head.
“Just suit yourself,” replied the scout-master.
“That’s what I mean to do, only this is my new suit, and I kinder hate to put it up to dry, for fear it’ll shrink on me, and I can’t get out of it again,” the lanky one went on to say.
Presently, as the air under the trees was not so warm as if they had had more sunshine, and Giraffe commenced to shiver, Thad told him he had better make the change.
“You can wear your old suit right along, if you have to,” he remarked; “and even if you have to throw away the other, better do that than get a heavy cold from trying to let it dry on you. That’s all very well in hot August weather; but there’s a little tang in the air, even away down South here, along in December. So strip to the skin, and make yourself comfortable.”
Giraffe concluded that after all this was the best policy; and so he set to work, paying little heed to the jests of his chums, who, like all boys, could never let so good a chance to joke an unlucky companion pass by.
“Next time you see a log, Giraffe,” Bumpus told him, “take a second look before you go to punch it with your paddle. They say logs down here have got teeth, and can take a big bite right out of an oar. We don’t want to lose any of our paddles; and let me warn you that it’s risky jumping overboard after one when you do drop it in the drink. We’d hate to see you make a meal for a hungry ’gator; though for that matter it’d be a pretty slim dinner he’d get!”
“Well, one thing sure,” retorted the tall scout, who was now fully dressed, and feeling in readiness to do battle again; “I wouldn’t blame any old ’gator if he declined to gobble you for a relish right now, and that’s what.”
“There you go again, but on account of your recent trouble I’ll let it pass. A fellow that has just been nearly scared to death ain’t responsible for half he says,” and the fat boy waved his hand toward the other as though he really meant it.
“From the way you’ve been pestering us lately about that stuff you forgot to take home to your mother from the drug store, I’d think you had troubles of your own to bother about,” retorted Giraffe. “I never saw such a fellow to keep thinking of little things that don’t amount to a row of beans. Why, you admit it only cost five cents, and yet to hear you let out a howl about it every little while, you’d think it was worth a whole dollar.”
“It ain’t that,” said Bumpus, with dignity, “but I’m so built that when anything gets on my nerves like that has, I just can’t sleep till I’ve solved the puzzle. Did I take that little package home and give it to my mother, or did I leave it anywhere on the way? That’s the question I’d like to have solved; and I mean it shall be, if I have to write to three separate boys whose houses I stopped in on my way home, to tell ’em what a ge-lorious time I expected to have down here.”
“But you did write to your mother from Memphis, to ask her about it; and when we got letters back at that last town you nearly took a fit because there wasn’t any for you,” Davy Jones went on to say, taking a hand in the affair, though he was as far away from Bumpus in the other end of the boat as he could possibly get.
“That’s all very true,” replied the fat scout, composedly; “and now I’ve got to just hold in, and wait a long time till we get more mail. It bothers me more’n words can tell you. A scout should never fail in his duty; and my mother said she wanted what she wrote on that paper the worst kind. What if it was only five cents; I’m not thinking of the amount, but the fulfilling of my duty. Thad always says that’s the main thing to consider. Faithful in little things, is my motto.”
“Hear! hear!” cheered Bob White, from the other boat.
“Good boy, Bumpus! them’s our sentiments, too!” declared Step Hen, hilariously.
“Huh! little things, hey?” sniffed Giraffe; “please get busy fellows, and draw ahead of our friends in the other boat once more. Seems to me the air is better up ahead.”
“But make him beware of the logs, mind you,” called Bumpus, as a parting shot.
They proceeded carefully along for some time. The channel they were following seemed to be very winding, and yet there could be no reasonable doubt but that it was constantly taking the expedition deeper into the great Alligator Swamp all the time.
Thad had tried to get all the information possible about the strange place he intended to visit, but few people could assist him. One man gladly allowed him to have a very rude chart that he said “Alligator” Smith, who made a practice of hunting the denizens of the swamp for their skins, had once drawn for him, with a bit of charcoal, and a piece of wrapping paper. This was when the “cracker” had lost a heifer which he suspected had either strayed into the fastnesses of the swamp; or else been killed, and eaten by some “hideout” escaped convicts, who found a refuge from pursuit within the almost impenetrable depths of the extensive morass.
There were things about this chart which none of them could fully grasp. Thad had some hopes of being fortunate enough to come upon the man who had drawn it, as he was said to be somewhere about, pursuing his queer vocation of acquiring a living from securing the skins of alligators he managed to shoot or trap.
And it was in this way that the eight chums had actually dared to start into one of the least known places in the whole State of Louisiana. Some of those with whom they had spoken about their intended trip had warned them not to attempt such a risky thing without a guide. But Thad was fairly wild to learn whether there could be any truth in the strange story that had come to his guardian in that letter; and he just felt that he could not stand the suspense another day.
Inquiry had developed the fact that inside of the last few months a man and a little girl had really been seen several times, though nobody knew where he stayed; and some said they had seen him paddling out of the swamp in a pirogue, which had evidently been fashioned from the