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Updated: May 18, 2025
Just when the scouts glimpsed the hairy denizen of Sassafras Swamp, he was engaged in sitting on his haunches and gathering in the bushes with his sturdy forelegs. To Lil Artha, it looked as though Bruin might be making a lunch from the luscious, big blueberries that grew in such abundance here and there through the swamp.
"Good enough, Lil Artha," the scout master went on to say in a relieved tone; "I couldn't believe you'd be so reckless. A charge of bird shot at that distance goes like a bullet, because it hasn't a chance to scatter." It was apparently Toby's turn to appear skeptical now. "Huh!
It had evidently been filed; and boys, can you guess what it made me think it must have once been?" Although all of them looked eagerly interested, they shook their heads in the negative, as though unable to hazard even a guess. "Go on, Elmer, and tell us," urged Toby. "Yes, let down the bars and relieve our anxiety, please, Elmer," added Lil Artha.
Apparently, the three fellows perched on the Virginia rail fence had agreed to wait for others who were to join them in starting for the favorite "swimmin' hole," for their conversation betrayed this fact. Lil Artha began to grow a little impatient.
It turned out to be no child's play handling that long, heavy pole which had a faculty for clinging to the ooze below the surface of the water, and necessitating more or less exertion in order to drag it loose each time it was used. Landy had not taken his turn as yet. It really looked as though Lil Artha was a little afraid of the fat scout, for he and Mark had alternated in doing the work.
I don't thee how elth he could make him do whatever he wants. Yeth, I even believe he forced Hen to wite that letter. Needn't laugh, Lil Artha, I've been reading it all up lately, and there are thome queer happeningth along the line of hypnothism." "Elmer, how about that; do you believe in it?" asked Lil Artha, who was known to be pretty much of a scoffer in his way.
Vyasa of immeasurable intelligence, has spoken of the Mahabharata as a treatise on Artha, on Dharma, and on Kama. Those who have listened to his history can never bear to listen to others, as, indeed, they who have listened to the sweet voice of the male Kokila can never hear the dissonance of the crow's cawing.
It was an event of prime importance, according to his mind, when seven real scouts came and took the farmhouse of the Trotters by storm. That supper was one never to be forgotten by the fellows. Why, according to Lil Artha, and he ought to know as well as the next one, the table fairly groaned under the weight of good things which the farmer's wife kept placing upon it.
He still favored the original idea, and, in fact, never bothered mentioning the other speculation to his comrades. All of them being ready they set out. Elmer and Lil Artha led the van, for they were recognized as the best equipped scouts in the Wolf Patrol when it came to a question of trailing.
"I can't say that I see him now, for he's somewhere up in the thickest part of the bushy tree; but it must have been something more than a 'coon, because I actually saw the blaze of its eyes!" "Whew!" gasped Landy, looking as though he wanted to drop the push-pole on the spur of the moment; "get your gun, Lil Artha, why don't you?
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