Part 10
The Poaching Camp
At Boggs' Landing, the four of them set out to solve the mystery once and for all. Buford and Duchess were perched on the prow of the buggy, as they headed out into the black waters of Fenokee.
The cameramen and Mr. Martin took a larger boat they had rented, equipped with headlights. They started out after the twins once their swamp buggy was far enough ahead, keeping their lights dim.
"Let's head back to that island first." said Cindy Mae.
"Good idea." Agreed Woody.
By the time they reached the island, they noticed that the Tarkins' boat was gone. Again, they parked the buggy and got out. Woody looked back where the cameramen's boat was. "Think they're still back there?" he asked.
"They'll catch up with us before long." said Cindy Mae. "Let's get a move on. There's something I want to check out. Buford, d'ya think you can find them tracks again?"
"Uh-huh." Buford immediately began sniffing. The scent of the two men had gone rather stale by now, but still his ultra-keen senses picked it up. He began following the tracks of the two men. Duchess followed Buford's lead, her own nose to the ground. Her city-bred senses weren't as keen as Buford's, but being a bloodhound, they were keen enough, and soon she picked up the scent as well. The hounds followed the trail until they came to the place where the two men's tracks were joined by the tracks of another man, along with the tracks of a puma. And even though the scent was faint, Buford could tell it was same cat the Tarkins had shown them at Jenkins farm, and not the real Woundfoot.
He followed the tracks of the tree men and the cat, expecting them to lead back out to where their boat had been parked. Instead the trail made a swerve deeper inland. The trail was leading them deeper, into the core of the island, and Buford began secretly to get nervous.
And then he picked up an even stranger scent-or rather a curious mixture of different scents very close by. Buford's nose flashed bright red, sirening loudly as it did so.
"Sound's like Buford's really onto something this time, Sis." said Woody. Buford's ears went straight up, he followed the scent of the men, and strange mixture of smells grew stronger until it stopped by a large grove of cypresses. The miasma of scents carried with it the scents of different species of animals, along with that of men, mixed with an assortment of sharp, unnatural odors. Buford noted that the grove had been purposefully screened off with branches and clippings, as though whoever had done that was attempting to hide what ever lay within.
He turned to the twins and pointed with one paw toward the grove. "In here! In here!"
"We're raht behind ya, Buford!" said Cindy Mae.
Buford poked his head into the grove. Duchess craned her head around him too, sniffing curiously in the gloom. To the showdog, all the scents were unfamiliar and frightening. To Buford, who had grown up in Fenokee, most of the scents were familiar, but in much concentration. Woody and Cindy Mae stuck their heads in as well. scanning the place with their flashlights.
"Glory be!" exclaimed Woody. "This here's a poaching camp!"
"No doubt about that, Woody." said Cindy Mae, her voice trembling.
Their flashlights fell on stretched gator hides, some of them looking freshly skinned. There was a canvas tent and some rude wooden tables. On these tables were skinning utensils. There were the hides of other animals as well, two river otters, and no less than four bobcats. There were rifles, bullets, and also assorted cooking materials. There were several cages with trap-spring doors. As Buford and Duchess were sniffing around at the assortment of material, Duchess began sniffing some corroded steal. When Buford saw her do this he flashed to her side and pushed her away. "Stay back!" he mumbled.
Duchess looked at him in surprise, though she realized Buford must have a reason for doing that.
"What?" she asked.
"A trap." mumbled Buford. "See here!"
He picked up a stick and jammed it into the steel jaws of the poaching trap. The jaws smashed themselves together, snapping stick, and causing Duchess to jump in fright.
"Oh, Buford," sighed Duchess.
"Never fear, my dear." said Buford. Then an even stronger scent reached Buford's nose, and it went off flashing unexpectedly. It was the scent of men—and they were very close by! Maybe this camp wasn't deserted after all!
He followed the scent until it stopped at large canvas screen. Buford hesitated at first, then pulled it back. His eyes went wide in shock at what the canvas revealed.
Two men sat tied and gagged uncomfortably. Woody and Cindy Mae came over to take a look at them.
"Well, holy jumpn' tree toads!" Woody exclaimed. "Are they who I think they are?"
"They are, Woody," answered Cindy. "Them's the Tarkins' boys!"
Sheriff Muletrain and Deputy Goofer drove up the dirt road to Jeb Crowley's hut deep in the Fenokee swamp. "You sure 'ol Jeb cen tell us anything sheriff?" Goofer asked.
"Well, he ought to," said the Sheriff. "If Jenna Crowleys' really his sister, like Steve Tarkins said. They went up to Jeb's porch and knocked on the door. For several minutes, no one answered.
"Looks like no one's here, Goofer." The sheriff said. "ol Jeb musta gone frog hunting. We'll check back later." He turned to leave when the door opened a crack. The sheriff and deputy looked around to see Jeb's face peering out.
"Well hallo, sheriff, Goofer." Said Jeb Crowley. "Fancy seen' you this time of night. Care to come in for some conrpone and shoo-fly pie?"
Goofer was about to answer, but Muletrain said, "No, thet won't be necessary, thank you all the same. Don't mean to disturb you, Jeb, but we're working on a case, and we thought you might be able to help us out. See there's this critter been plundering the Fenokee stockades. Yesterday I hired some conservation guys to take care of it. Well, them Boggs kids stuck their noses in again, and they think they might not really be conservation guys at all! What's bothern' me is how they said thet an old hermit lady told them where to find the ornery critter."
Jeb shrugged. "Sos what do you think I know about it?"
"Well, it just so happens," said Muletrain. "That they mentioned that this old lady was your sister!"
"Mah sister!" Jeb exclaimed. "Pre-posterous! Them boys must have swamp fever or somethin'"
"Gol-lee!" exclaimed Goofer "You sayin' ya ain't got no sister, Jeb?'
"Ah didn't say thet."
"Well, do ya, or don't ya?"
For the first time, Jeb Crowley looked visibly angered. "I ain't saying no more." He turned his back on the sheriff, but didn't close the door yet.
"Jeb," said Muletrain," Ah know you may not like talkin' 'bout yer sister. But we think this may be important. Them kids went into the swamp tonight lookin' for clues, 'an likely as not they've gone back. They could be in real trouble. They already had a talk with this sister of yours 'an-"
Jeb turned around and starred at the sheriff wide-eyed. "huh?"
"I said the Boggs twins were at your sisters' tonight, an-"
"Then there' pullin' yer leg, sheriff. Or somethins' mighty peculiar gonin' on."
"How's that?"
Jeb still seemed reluctant to talk. "Now's it's not like I'm ashamed of her myself." Jeb said finally. "But folks used to give us trouble all the time 'saying how Jenna was a witch 'an stuff. Ah suppose she came across as one, reading folks' fortunes, and stuff, but she always kept much herself, even more then me."
"Is that's what's peculiar?" asked Goofer.
"Uh-uh." Answered Jeb "What's peculiar is thet 'ol Jenna's dead. Been dead last ten years. Ah buried her myself out behind the smoke house!"