

THE MYSTERY OF THE BLUE GOOSE 



By DAN BEARD 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE CAMP IN BIG PETE'S PARK 



(Continued) 



O have one's nose all 

 but broken, both eyes 

 blackened and a 

 twisted ankle is a 

 sad misfortune 

 wherever it occurs, 

 but when such a 

 thing happens to a 

 fellow many weary 

 miles from the near- 

 est human habitation 

 and in a howling 

 wilderness it might 

 be considered as anything but pleasant. 

 Yet, paradoxical as it may appear, 

 among the most pleasant and precious 

 memories I have stored away in my 

 mind, only to be tapped like old wine, 

 upon special occasions, is the memory 

 of the glorious days spent nursing my 

 bruises and lolling around that far- 

 away camp. v Sometimes I listened to 

 the quaint yarns of my unique and in- 

 teresting guide, or idly watched the 

 changing colors and effects which the 

 stm and atmosphere produced on the 

 snow-capped mountains of Darlinkle's 

 Park. I made friends with our little 

 neighbors, the rock-chucks, whose 

 home was in the cliff back of the 

 spring, and became intimate with the 

 golden chipmunk and its pretty little 

 black and white cousin, the four-striped 

 chipmunk, both of which were common 

 and remarkably tame about camp. 



Back of the camp, in the dark shade 

 of the evergreens, there was a mound 

 composed entirely of the fragments of 



conifera cones, which Pete said was 

 the squirrels' dining-room. This 

 mound contained at least four good 

 cart loads of fragments, and all of it 

 was the work of the blunt-nosed red 

 squirrels, which were plentiful in the 

 woods. 



How long it took these little rodents 

 to heap such a mass of material to- 

 gether I was unable to calculate, but 

 the mound was as large as some of the 

 shell heaps made by the ancient oyster- 

 eating men and left by them along our 

 coasts from Florida to Maine. 



The numerous magpies seemed to be 

 conscious of my admiration of their 

 beautiful piebald plumage and to take 

 every oportunity to show off its iri- 

 descent hues to the best advantage in 

 the sunlight. 



Pete evidently thought that I was a 

 man of very low taste, with a great 

 lack of discrimination in the choice of 

 my friends among the forest folk, and 

 he could see no reason for my intimacy 

 with "all tha' outlaws and most ras- 

 cally varmints of the park." 



Truth compels me to admit that the 

 pranks of some of my little friends 

 were often mischievous and annoying, 

 but they were also humorous and enter- 

 taining, and I laughed when the "tal- 

 low head" jay swooped down and 

 snatched a tid-bit from Pete's plate 

 just as he was about to eat it, and when 

 the irate trapper threw his plate at the 

 camp robber it was a charming sight 

 to see a number of birds flutter down 

 to feast upon the scattered food. 



The loud-mouthed, self-asserting fly- 

 catcher in the cottonwood tree learned 



5 o8 



