CHAPTER VI

BLUFF MEETS WITH A LOSS

The wildest excitement ensued.

Jerry met with a mishap right in the beginning of the hunt, falling over the long box in which much of their camp material had been carried.

It happened to lie just back of the tent, empty save for a few fag-ends of canvas brought along in case of need, and with the cover in place.

“Talk about your obstacle races!” he shouted, as he scrambled up, and went limping after the others; “this has ’em beaten to a frazzle.”

The hunt for the offender was without result.  He had evidently made haste to scuttle off, after heaving the stones at the camp.

Frank and Will, after searching for some little time, started to return to the camp, and on the way overtook Bluff.

“Where’s Jerry?” asked Frank, as they joined forces.

“Don’t know,” came the answer, as Bluff pushed on eagerly ahead; “last I saw of him he was taking a header over that long coffin-box back of the tents.”

“I hope he didn’t hurt himself badly, that’s all.  What’s your hurry, Bluff?” continued Frank, noticing that the other seemed particularly anxious to get along.

“Why, I left my gun standing against a tree,” replied Bluff.

“Well, we all did about the same thing.  I forgot I had a gun, in fact, being so anxious to get my hands on that chump who bombarded our camp.  I guess you’ll find the gun safe.  Uncle Toby stayed in camp,” said Frank, nudging Will.

“He did not.  I saw him scooting off like a scared dog.  Like as not that coon is hiding somewhere under the bushes at this very minute,” declared Bluff.

At which both the others laughed.

Presently the cheery blaze was seen through the trees.

Some one was there, for they could see him bending over as though busily engaged.

“It’s Jerry, all right,” said Bluff, over his shoulder.

“But what in the wide world is he doing?  I believe he’s been hurt, boys,” declared Frank, with a touch of anxiety in his voice, for Jerry and he had been very thick of late.

“Binding a bandage around his shin, as sure as you live!  Hello!  What happened to you, old fellow?  Did one of those rocks hit home, or was it the box you tried to capture that jumped up and kicked you?” asked Will.

Bluff was in the meantime rushing wildly about the camp as though looking for something.

“I tumbled over that plagued box, that’s all; and after limping around for a spell thought I’d better come back and put some witch-hazel on the bruise,” explained the other, turning down his trousers’ leg, and scrambling to his feet to ascertain how well he could walk.

“It will be some stiff in the morning, I reckon.  Talk about your bears, I thought one had me nailed when I fell over that thing ‘ker chunk,’” he continued, as he rubbed his shin and screwed his face up as if to conceal his pain.