Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission. Stratemeyer Edward

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Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission - Stratemeyer Edward

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they reached the lower end of the island Dave held up his hand as a warning.

      “I think I saw some partridges ahead,” he said, in a low voice. “If they are there we don’t want to disturb them. Put down the hamper and take off your skates, and we’ll try to bag them.”

      His chums were not slow in complying with his commands, and soon the crowd was making its way toward the center of the island, where grew a dense clump of cedars. They had to work their way through the brushwood.

      “Ouch!” exclaimed Shadow, presently.

      “What’s the trouble?” whispered Roger.

      “Scratched my hand on a bramble bush,” was the reply. “But it isn’t much.”

      “Be careful of your guns,” cautioned Dave. “Don’t let a trigger get caught in a bush or you may have an accident.”

      “There they are!” cried Ben, in a strained voice. “My, what a lot of ’em!”

      He pointed ahead, and to one side of the tall cedars they saw a covey of partridges, at least twenty in number, resting on the ground.

      “All together!” said Dave, in a low, steady voice. “Fire as you stand, those on the right to the right, those on the left to the left, and those in the center for the middle of the flock. I’ll count. Ready? One, two, three!”

      Crack! bang! crack! bang! went the shotguns and pistols. Then came a rushing, rattling, roaring sound, and up into the air went what was left of the covey, one partridge, being badly wounded, flying in a circle and then directly for Roger’s head. He struck it with his gun barrel and then caught it in his hands, quickly putting it out of its misery. The other boys continued to bang away, but soon the escaping game was beyond their reach.

      “A pretty good haul!” cried Dave, as he and his chums moved forward. “Three here and the one Roger has makes four. Boys, we won’t go back empty-handed.”

      “Who hit and who missed?” questioned Sam.

      “That would be a hard question to answer,” returned Phil. “Better let the credit go to the whole crowd,” and so it was decided.

      “Well, there isn’t much use in looking for any more game around here,” said Dave. “Those volleys of shots will make them lay low for some time.”

      “Let’s go into camp and get lunch,” suggested Buster. “I’m as hungry as a bear.”

      “Were you ever anything else?” questioned Ben, with a grin, for the stout youth’s constant desire to eat was well known.

      They tramped to the south shore of the island, and there, in a nook that was sheltered from the north wind, they went into temporary camp, cutting down some brushwood and heavier fuel and building a fire. Over the flames they arranged a stick, from which they hung a kettle filled with water obtained by chopping a hole through the ice of the river.

      “Now, when the water boils, we can have some coffee,” said Roger, who was getting out the tin cups. “And we can roast those potatoes while the water boils,” he added.

      “What about some rabbit pot-pie, or roast partridge?” asked Buster.

      “Oh, let us take all the game back to the school!” exclaimed Ben. “Just to show the fellows what we got, you know.”

      “That’s the talk!” cried Gus. “If we don’t, maybe they won’t believe we were so lucky.”

      “Yes, let us take it all back,” chimed in Chip Macklin.

      All but Buster were willing to keep the game. He heaved a deep sigh.

      “All right, if we must,” he said mournfully. “But it makes my mouth water, just the same!” And he eyed the plump rabbits and fat partridges wistfully.

      Inside of half an hour the lunch was under way. Around the roaring campfire sat the students, some on convenient rocks and others on a fallen tree that chanced to be handy. They had brought with them several kinds of sandwiches, besides hard-boiled eggs, crackers, cheese, some cake, and the coffee, with a small bottle of cream and some sugar. They also had some potatoes for roasting, and though these got partly burned, all declared them “fine” or “elegant,” – which shows what outdoor air will do for one’s appetite.

      They took their time, and during the meal Shadow was allowed to tell as many stories as he pleased, much to his satisfaction. It was Dave who was the first to get up.

      “Might as well be moving,” he said, after consulting his watch. “We’ll have to start on the return inside of two hours, and that won’t give us much time for hunting.”

      “Wait, I want just one more picture!” cried Sam, who had been busy before with his camera. “Now all look as happy as if to-morrow were Christmas!” And as the others grinned over the joke, click! went the shutter of the box, and the picture was snapped.

      “Now, Sam, let me take you, with a gun in one hand and the partridges in the other!” cried Dave. “If it turns out well, we can have it enlarged for our dormitory.” And a minute later another picture was added to the roll of films.

      “Why not leave the things here and come back for them?” suggested Roger. “No use in toting the hamper and game everywhere.”

      “We can hang the game in a tree,” added Ben.

      All agreed to this, and so the hamper and the game were hung up on the limbs of a near-by walnut tree along with their skates and some other things. Then the fire was kicked out, so that it might not start a conflagration in the woods, and the students prepared to continue their hunt.

      “I guess we may as well tramp to the upper end of the island first,” said Dave, in answer to a question from his companions. “Then, if we have time, we can beat up one shore and then the other. By that time it will be getting dark and time to turn back to the Hall.”

      “Say, wait a minute!” cried Ben, suddenly.

      “What’s wrong, Ben?” asked several.

      “Why, I – er – I thought I saw somebody over in the woods yonder, looking at us,” and the Crumville lad pointed to the trees in question. All gazed steadily in the direction but saw nothing unusual.

      “Maybe it was a rabbit, or a bear, or something like that,” suggested Buster. “If it’s a bear we had better look out,” he added, nervously.

      “We’ll soon find out,” said Dave. “Come on,” and he walked forward toward the woods. But he found nothing and soon rejoined his companions.

      “I must have been mistaken,” said Ben. “Come on, if we are to do any hunting.” And off he stalked, and one by one the others followed.

      Evidently the shots at the partridges had scared much of the game away, for at the upper end of the island they started up nothing but two squirrels and a few wild pigeons. Then they came down the north shore and there bagged two rabbits. They also saw a wild turkey, but it got away before anybody could take aim at it.

      “See, it has started to snow!” cried the senator’s son, presently, and he was right. At first the flakes were few, but inside of five minutes it was snowing steadily.

      “We

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