“now, i got it all fixed, tavia. you come along with us and see the fun,” said joe dale, at luncheon time. “i’m
sorry dorothy’s gone over to the post-office. she won’t find anything, i’m afraid. nobody came there this morning
when i was on watch,” he added, as though that was conclusive.
“but she will expect me——”
“no, she won’t. bob and ned are going there right after two o’clock, they say, and they’ll take her place.”
“if bob niles is going there i don’t want to go,” said tavia, with a toss of her head. “he’s getting too—
numerous.”
“come on with us and hunt woodchucks. we got the holes all marked this morning,” said her brother johnny. “and
rogue’s got a turtle—a real snappy one, if it is so early in the spring.”
“a turtle?” asked tavia, wonderingly. “what do you do with a turtle catching woodchucks?”
211 “oh, you’ll see,” promised joe. “come on.”
and tavia, who was just crazy to run wild in the woods and fields again, as she herself said, was over-ruled and
went with the boys.
they went up into the fields near the rouse farm. had they gone by the way of the railroad crossing they might have
passed “the dump,” as the open lot was called, just about the time dorothy was talking with jane daggett and her
hopeful son.
but tavia and the boys—all dorothy’s friends, in fact—were quite unaware of the trouble into which dorothy’s
impetuosity had gotten her.
the old pasture in which the boys had discovered the woodchuck burrows was full of sheltering clumps of dwarfed
trees, and piles of stone. a woodchuck always has two openings to his home, and unless a watch is set at both holes
no amount of smoking out will enable the hunter to grab mr. woodchuck.
“but we got it cinched!” declared joe dale, with excitement. “see this old mud turtle?”
the turtle produced was as large as the bottom of a two-quart pail. tavia, who knew lots about snaring and trapping
small game, was frankly puzzled over the use to which the turtle was to be put.
“now you’ll see,” giggled her brother. “and we ain’t goin’ to hurt the turtle a mite. pull out his tail, joe.
”
212 “yes, pull out his tail, brother,” urged roger, dancing around the group that hovered about one of the doors
to mr. woodchuck’s den.
“isn’t a turtle funny?” laughed tavia. “he sits down, swallows his head, and puts both his hands and feet in his
pockets.”
“now the string,” said joe, seriously. he tied a piece of stout cord to the creature’s tail.
“it’ll slip,” objected johnny.
“no, ’twon’t!”
“give me the wire, rogue,” commanded johnny.
the younger lad produced a piece of thin wire about two feet in length. at one end was a loop, and to this the bit
of stout cord was fastened. then, to the other end of the wire, johnny attached a ball of cotton. joe produced a
bottle of coal oil.
“whatever are you horrid boys going to do?” demanded tavia, suddenly.
“now, we’re not going to hurt the turtle,” explained her brother, calmly. “you needn’t fret. we’re going to
get and bake mr. woodchuck. he’s proper game. mr. turtle may be scared for a minute, or two, but that’s all. he is
a cold-blooded insect——”
“insect! hear to him!” burst out joe dale, laughing uproariously.
213 “oh—ah-ugh! i mean reptile,” grunted johnny.
“that’s as bad as one of the fellows in school,” said roger. “teacher asked him what an oyster was, and he told
her it was a fish built like a nut.”
“goody!” chuckled tavia. “so it is. but do you think this cold-blooded reptile—which is also a good deal like a
nut—needs warming up, boys?”
“we won’t warm him,” explained johnny. “don’t you see we’ve got the wire tied to his tail with a piece of
string? if the wire should get hot he’d never feel it. now come on, joe. pour on the oil. you watching that other
hole, rogue? we don’t want the old groundhog to fool us.”
“he hasn’t poked his snout out here yet,” declared the smallest boy, with confidence.
but tavia, who had begun to look worried, suddenly interfered.
“say! i want to know,” she demanded, “wherever you boys learned to smoke a woodchuck out in this way? it’s not
nice. i don’t like it——”
“aw, listen to her!” ejaculated johnny travers. “don’t be a softie, tavia.”
“i tell you it doesn’t hurt the turtle,” said joe dale.
“i don’t care,” said tavia, warmly. “even if it only looks as though it might hurt him, we shouldn’t do it. we
shouldn’t even be willing to214 stand for animals appearing to be hurt. it’s not nice—it’s not kindly——”
“aw, shucks!” began her brother again; but joe shut him up quickly:
“that’s all right, jack. if tavia says we’re not to do it, we won’t. let him go,” and in a moment he had
released the reptile, which began crawling off desperately as though he knew just how narrow an escape he had had
from becoming an animated torch.
for a minute or two johnny was inclined to pout. but tavia (who knew as much about woodchuck hunting as the boys
themselves) quickly made a brush torch, and they saturated that with oil, touched it off with a match, and pushed it
down the woodchuck hole.
there was a big stack of corn fodder near at hand; but the interested young folk did not pay much attention to it at
the moment. they did not even observe a certain rustling in the fodder when they first came to the woodchuck burrow;
nor did they see a pair of very bright eyes, belonging to a young man with very red hair, that peered out at them
when they began smoking out the denizen of the hole in the hillside. this red-haired person only grinned at them and
then lay down for another nap in the fodder. he was laying up sleep for the coming night, for he expected to “jump
” the fast freight to the west that passed through dalton215 at midnight, and only stopped at the water-tank below
this hill.
the three boys and tavia waited at the other end of the woodchuck burrow.
“if he doesn’t get heart-failure, or apoplexy, or something like that, mr. woodchuck will run out in about two
shakes of a lamb’s tail,” chuckled johnny travers.
“your lamb has an awful long tail, johnny,” quoth his sister, teasingly, after a minute or so.
and then she suddenly joined the boys in a whoop of excitement. the nose of the woodchuck appeared. little rogue hit
it a crack and the creature didn’t run far. but johnny waited with uplifted “whanger” and there appeared a second
woodchuck. they got that one, too—and both were pretty plump, for all that they had been hived up during the
winter.
“we’ve got enough for a bake—a small one,” said roger.
“aw, wait,” said his brother. “there’s another hole. come on, johnny! let’s make a new torch.”
johnny obeyed and joe led the way around the stack. there were signs of another woodchuck hollow. they repeated the
performance with the torch here, and then grouped about the other outlet to welcome the groundhog when he appeared.
in ten minutes they had a third fat carcass, and the boys began to skin and clean them.
216 “nat was laughing at us,” said joe dale. “i reckon he and cousin ned will be glad enough to eat some of these
fellows.”
“faugh! you wouldn’t really eat ’em?” began tavia. but the boys laughed uproariously.
“ain’t that just like a girl?” cried johnny. “woodchuck is as good eating as ’possum, or coon, or squirrel.”
“that’s all right,” laughed tavia, tossing her head. “everybody to their taste, as the old woman said when she
kissed her cow. i’ll choose squirrel—and i reckon doro will, too—and the bigger boys. and i know where we can get
some, for there’s no law on squirrels in this county. we’ll have some potatoes in the bake, too.”
“goody!” cried roger, jumping around. “it takes girls to think of the fixin’s.”
“that’s so,” agreed johnny, getting over his little grouch.
“and let’s have the bake in griscom’s grove—you know—back of the old schoolhouse; there’s a fine place there.
don’t you remember, johnny?”
“of course,” said her brother. “there’s plenty of stones there for an oven. and——”
“oh, oh, oh!” screamed tavia, suddenly.
“whatever became of that torch, rogue?” demanded joe.
it was too late, however, to wonder about that. one side of the stack of fodder was all ablaze.
