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diff --git a/12225-0.txt b/12225-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4299b5e --- /dev/null +++ b/12225-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13008 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12225 *** + +TALES OF LONELY TRAILS + + +BY ZANE GREY + + +1922 + +[Illustration: Zane Grey] + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I. NONNEZOSHE + +II. COLORADO TRAILS + +III. ROPING LIONS IN THE GRAND CANYON + +IV. TONTO BASIN + +V. DEATH VALLEY + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +ZANE GREY + +Z.G. AFTER TWO MONTHS IN THE WILDS + +THERE WAS SOMETHING BEYOND THE WHITE PEAKED RANGES + +WEIRD AND WONDERFUL MONUMENTS IN MONUMENT VALLEY + +SUNSET ON THE DESERT + +CAVE OF THE CLIFF DWELLERS + +THIS IMMENSE CAVE WOULD HOLD TRINITY CHURCH. IN IT LIES THE RUINED +CLIFF DWELLING CALLED BETATAKIN + +THE WIND-WORN TREACHEROUS SLOPES ON THE WAY TO NONNEZOSHE + +FIRST SIGHT OF THE GREAT NATURAL BRIDGE + +NONNEZOSHE + +PACK HORSES ON A SAGE SLOPE IN COLORADO + +THE GRASSY UPLANDS, WITH WHITELEY'S PEAK IN THE DISTANCE + +A SPRUCE-SHADED, FLOWER-SKIRTED LAKE + +LOOKING DOWN UPON CLOUD-FILLED VALLEYS + +SEARCHING BURNED-OVER RANGES FOR GAME + +A HUNTER'S CABIN ON A FROSTY MORNING + +THE TROUBLESOME COUNTRY, NOTED FOR GRIZZLY BEARS + +UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE FLATTOP MOUNTAINS + +WHITE ASPEN TREE SHOWING MARKS OF BEAR CLAWS + +A BLACK BEAR TREED + +CROSSING THE COLORADO RIVER AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAND CANYON + +WHERE ROLLS THE COLORADO + +DOWN THE SHINUMO TRAIL OF THE NORTH RIVER + +CAMP AT THE SADDLE + +BUCKSKIN FOREST + +BUFFALO JONES WITH SOUNDER AND RANGER + +JONES ABOUT TO LASSO A MOUNTAIN LION + +REMAINS OF A DEER KILLED BY LIONS + +A LION TIED + +FIGHTING WEETAHS (BUFFALO BULLS) ON BUFFALO JONES'S DESERT RANCH + +TREED LION + +TREED LION + +TREED LION + +HIDING + +A DRINK OF COLD GRANITE WATER UNDER THE RIM + +WHICH IS THE PIUTE + +WILD HORSES DRINKING ON A PROMONTORY IN THE GRAND CANYON + +JONES AND EMETT PACKING LION ON HORSE + +JONES CLIMBING UP TO LASSO LION + +TWO LIONS IN ONE TREE + +JONES, EMETT, AND THE NAVAJO WITH THE LIONS + +BILLY IN CAMP + +LION LICKING SNOWBALL + +SOME OF OUR MENAGERIE IN BUCKSKIN FOREST + +WHITE MUSTANG STALLION WITH HIS BUNCH OF BLACKS IN SNAKE GULCH + +ON THE WAY HOME + +RIDING WITH A NAVAJO + +THE AUTHOR AND HIS MEN + +ROMER-BOY ON HIS FAVORITE STEED + +THE TONTO BASIN + +LISTENING FOR THE HOUNDS + +ZANE GREY ON DON CARLOS + +WILD TURKEY + +WILD TURKEYS + +THE WHITE QUAKING ASPS + +THE SKUNK, A FREQUENT AND RATHER DANGEROUS VISITOR IN CAMP + +ON THE RIM + +WHERE ELK, DEER, AND TURKEY DRINK + +WHERE BEAR CROSS THE RIDGE FROM ONE CANYON TO ANOTHER + +CLIMBING OVER THE TOUGH MANZANITA + +BEAR IN SIGHT ACROSS CANYON + +Z.G.'S CINNAMON BEAR + +R.C.'S BIG BROWN BEAR + +ANOTHER BEAR + +MEAT IN CAMP + +BURROS PACKED FOR THE TRAIL + +THE DEADLY CHOLLA, MOST POISONOUS AND PAIN INFLICTING OF THE CACTUS + +THE COLORED CALICO MOUNTAINS + +DOWN THE LONG WINDING WASH TO DEATH VALLEY + +DESOLATION AND DECAY. LOOKING DOWN OVER THE DENUDED RIDGES TO THE +STARK VALLEY OF DEATH + +DESERT GRAVES + +THE GHASTLY SWEEP OF DEATH VALLEY + +IN THE CENTER OF THE SALT-INCRUSTED FLOOR OF DEATH VALLEY, THREE +HUNDRED FEET BELOW SEA LEVEL + + + + +TALES OF LONELY TRAILS + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +NONNEZOSHE + +John Wetherill, one of the famous Wetherill brothers and trader at +Kayenta, Arizona, is the man who discovered Nonnezoshe, which is +probably the most beautiful and wonderful natural phenomenon in +the world. Wetherill owes the credit to his wife, who, through her +influence with the Indians finally after years succeeded in getting +the secret of the great bridge. + +After three trips to Marsh Pass and Kayenta with my old guide, Al +Doyle of Flagstaff, I finally succeeded in getting Wetherill to take +me in to Nonnezoshe. This was in the spring of 1913 and my party was +the second one, not scientific, to make the trip. Later this same +year Wetherill took in the Roosevelt party and after that the Kolb +brothers. It is a safe thing to say that this trip is one of the most +beautiful in the West. It is a hard one and not for everybody. There +is no guide except Wetherill, who knows how to get there. And after +Doyle and I came out we admitted that we would not care to try to +return over our back trail. We doubted if we could find the way. This +is the only place I have ever visited which I am not sure I could find +again alone. + +My trip to Nonnezoshe gave me the opportunity to see also Monument +Valley, and the mysterious and labyrinthine Canyon Segi with its great +prehistoric cliff-dwellings. + +The desert beyond Kayenta spread out impressively, bare red flats +and plains of sage leading to the rugged vividly-colored and +wind-sculptured sandstone heights typical of the Painted Desert of +Arizona. Laguna Creek, at that season, became flooded after every +thunderstorm; and it was a treacherous red-mired quicksand where I +convinced myself we would have stuck forever had it not been for +Wetherill's Navajos. + +We rode all day, for the most part closed in by ridges and bluffs, so +that no extended view was possible. It was hot, too, and the sand blew +and the dust rose. Travel in northern Arizona is never easy, and this +grew harder and steeper. There was one long slope of heavy sand that +I made sure would prove too much for Wetherill's pack mules. But they +surmounted it apparently less breathless than I was. Toward sunset a +storm gathered ahead of us to the north with a promise of cooling and +sultry air. + +At length we turned into a long canyon with straight rugged red +walls, and a sandy floor with quite a perceptible ascent. It appeared +endless. Far ahead I could see the black storm-clouds; and by and bye +began to hear the rumble of thunder. Darkness had overtaken us by the +time we had reached the head of this canyon; and my first sight of +Monument Valley came with a dazzling flash of lightning. It revealed +a vast valley, a strange world of colossal shafts and buttes of rock, +magnificently sculptored, standing isolated and aloof, dark, weird, +lonely. When the sheet lightning flared across the sky showing the +monuments silhouetted black against that strange horizon the effect +was marvelously beautiful. I watched until the storm died away. + +[Illustration: Z. G. AFTER TWO MONTHS IN THE WILDS] + +Dawn, with the desert sunrise, changed Monument Valley, bereft it of +its night gloom and weird shadow, and showed it in another aspect of +beauty. It was hard for me to realize that those monuments were not +the works of man. The great valley must once have been a plateau of +red rock from which the softer strata had eroded, leaving the gentle +league-long slopes marked here and there by upstanding pillars and +columns of singular shape and beauty. I rode down the sweet-scented +sage-slopes under the shadow of the lofty Mittens, and around and +across the valley, and back again to the height of land. And when I +had completed the ride a story had woven itself into my mind; and +the spot where I stood was to be the place where Lin Slone taught +Lucy Bostil to ride the great stallion Wildfire. + +[Illustration: THERE WAS SOMETHING BEYOND THE WHITE-PEAKED RANGES] + +Two days' ride took us across country to the Segi. With this wonderful +canyon I was familiar, that is, as familiar as several visits could +make a man with such a bewildering place. In fact I had named it +Deception Pass. The Segi had innumerable branches, all more or less +the same size, and sometimes it was difficult to tell the main canyon +from one of its tributaries. The walls were rugged and crumbling, of a +red or yellow hue, upward of a thousand feet in height, and indented +by spruce-sided notches. + +There were a number of ruined cliff-dwellings, the most accessible of +which was Keet Seel. I could imagine no more picturesque spot. A +huge wind-worn cavern with a vast slanted stained wall held upon a +projecting ledge or shelf the long line of cliff-dwellings. These +silent little stone houses with their vacant black eye-like windows +had strange power to make me ponder, and then dream. + +Next day, upon resuming our journey, it pleased me to try to find the +trail to Betatakin, the most noted, and surely the most wonderful and +beautiful ruin in all the West. In many places there was no trail at +all, and I encountered difficulties, but in the end without much loss +of time I entered the narrow rugged entrance of the canyon I had named +Surprise Valley. Sight of the great dark cave thrilled me as I thought +it might have thrilled Bess and Venters, who had lived for me their +imagined lives of loneliness here in this wild spot. With the sight +of those lofty walls and the scent of the dry sweet sage there rushed +over me a strange feeling that "Riders of the Purple Sage" was true. +My dream people of romance had really lived there once upon a time. +I climbed high upon the huge stones, and along the smooth red walls +where Pay Larkin once had glided with swift sure steps, and I entered +the musty cliff-dwellings, and called out to hear the weird and +sonorous echoes, and I wandered through the thickets and upon the +grassy spruce-shaded benches, never for a moment free of the story I +had conceived there. Something of awe and sadness abided with me. I +could not enter into the merry pranks and investigations of my party. +Surprise Valley seemed a part of my past, my dreams, my very self. +I left it, haunted by its loneliness and silence and beauty, by the +story it had given me. + +That night we camped at Bubbling Spring, which once had been a geyser +of considerable power. Wetherill told a story of an old Navajo who had +lived there. For a long time, according to the Indian tale, the old +chief resided there without complaining of this geyser that was wont +to inundate his fields. But one season the unreliable waterspout made +great and persistent endeavor to drown him and his people and horses. +Whereupon the old Navajo took his gun and shot repeatedly at the +geyser, and thundered aloud his anger to the Great Spirit. The geyser +ebbed away, and from that day never burst forth again. + +[Illustration: WEIRD AND WONDERFUL MONUMENTS IN MONUMENT VALLEY] + +[Illustration: SUNSET ON THE DESERT] + +[Illustration: CAVE OF THE CLIFF DWELLERS] + +Somewhere under the great bulge of Navajo Mountain I calculated that we +were coming to the edge of the plateau. The white bobbing pack-horses +disappeared and then our extra mustangs. It is no unusual thing for a +man to use three mounts on this trip. Then two of our Indians +disappeared. But Wetherill waited for us and so did Nas ta Bega, the +Piute who first took Wetherill down into Nonnezoshe Boco. As I came up I +thought we had indeed reached the end of the world. + +"It's down in there," said Wetherill, with a laugh. + +Nas ta Bega made a slow sweeping gesture. There is always something so +significant and impressive about an Indian when he points anywhere. It +is as if he says, "There, way beyond, over the ranges, is a place I +know, and it is far." The fact was that I looked at the Piute's dark, +inscrutable face before I looked out into the void. + +My gaze then seemed impelled and held by things afar, a vast yellow +and purple corrugated world of distance, apparently now on a level +with my eyes. I was drawn by the beauty and grandeur of that scene; +and then I was transfixed, almost by fear, by the realization that +I dared to venture down into this wild and upflung fastness. I kept +looking afar, sweeping the three-quarter circle of horizon till my +judgment of distance was confounded and my sense of proportion dwarfed +one moment and magnified the next. + +Wetherill was pointing and explaining, but I had not grasped all he +said. + +"You can see two hundred miles into Utah," he went on. "That bright +rough surface, like a washboard, is wind-worn rock. Those little lines +of cleavage are canyons. There are a thousand canyons down there, and +only a few have we been in. That long purple ragged line is the Grand +Canyon of the Colorado. And there, that blue fork in the red, that's +where the San Juan comes in. And there's Escalante Canyon." + +I had to adopt the Indian's method of studying unlimited spaces in the +desert--to look with slow contracted eyes from near to far. + +The pack-train and the drivers had begun to zigzag down a long slope, +bare of rock, with scant strips of green, and here and there a cedar. +Half a mile down, the slope merged in what seemed a green level. But I +knew it was not level. This level was a rolling plain, growing darker +green, with lines of ravines and thin, undefined spaces that might be +mirage. Miles and miles it swept and rolled and heaved, to lose its +waves in apparent darker level. Round red rocks stood isolated. +They resembled huge grazing cattle. But as I gazed these rocks were +strangely magnified. They grew and grew into mounds, castles, domes, +crags, great red wind-carved buttes. One by one they drew my gaze +to the wall of upflung rock. I seemed to see a thousand domes of a +thousand shapes and colors, and among them a thousand blue clefts, +each of which was a canyon. + +Beyond this wide area of curved lines rose another wall, dwarfing the +lower; dark red, horizon-long, magnificent in frowning boldness, and +because of its limitless deceiving surfaces incomprehensible to the +gaze of man. Away to the eastward began a winding ragged blue line, +looping back upon itself, and then winding away again, growing wider +and bluer. This line was San Juan Canyon. I followed that blue line +all its length, a hundred miles, down toward the west where it joined +a dark purple shadowy cleft. And this was the Grand Canyon of the +Colorado. My eye swept along with that winding mark, farther and +farther to the west, until the cleft, growing larger and closer, +revealed itself as a wild and winding canyon. Still farther westward +it split a vast plateau of red peaks and yellow mesas. Here the canyon +was full of purple smoke. It turned, it closed, it gaped, it lost +itself and showed again in that chaos of a million cliffs. And then it +faded, a mere purple line, into deceiving distance. + +I imagined there was no scene in all the world to equal this. The +tranquillity of lesser spaces was here not manifest. This happened to +be a place where so much of the desert could be seen and the effect +was stupendous Sound, movement, life seemed to have no fitness here. +Ruin was there and desolation and decay. The meaning of the ages +was flung at me. A man became nothing. But when I gazed across that +sublime and majestic wilderness, in which the Grand Canyon was only a +dim line, I strangely lost my terror and something came to me across +the shining spaces. + +Then Nas ta Bega and Wetherill began the descent of the slope, and the +rest of us followed. No sign of a trail showed where the base of the +slope rolled out to meet the green plain. There was a level bench a +mile wide, then a ravine, and then an ascent, and after that, rounded +ridge and ravine, one after the other, like huge swells of a monstrous +sea. Indian paint brush vied in its scarlet hue with the deep magenta +of cactus. There was no sage. Soap weed and meager grass and a bunch +of cactus here and there lent the green to that barren, and it was +green only at a distance. + +Nas ta Bega kept on at a steady gait. The sun climbed. The wind rose +and whipped dust from under the mustangs. There is seldom much talk +on a ride of this nature. It is hard work and everybody for himself. +Besides, it is enough just to see; and that country is conducive to +silence. I looked back often, and the farther out on the plain we rode +the higher loomed the plateau we had descended; and as I faced ahead +again, the lower sank the red-domed and castled horizon to the fore. + +It was a wild place we were approaching. I saw piñon patches under +the circled walls. I ceased to feel the dry wind in my face. We were +already in the lee of a wall. I saw the rock squirrels scampering to +their holes. Then the Indians disappeared between two rounded corners +of cliff. + +I rode round the corner into a widening space thick with cedars. It +ended in a bare slope of smooth rock. Here we dismounted to begin the +ascent. It was smooth and hard, though not slippery. There was not +a crack. I did not see a broken piece of stone. Nas ta Bega and +Wetherill climbed straight up for a while and then wound round a +swell, to turn this way and that, always going up. I began to see +similar mounds of rock all around me, of every shape that could be +called a curve. There were yellow domes far above and small red domes +far below. Ridges ran from one hill of rock to another. There were +no abrupt breaks, but holes and pits and caves were everywhere, and +occasionally deep down, an amphitheater green with cedar and piñon. We +found no vestige of trail on those bare slopes. + +Our guides led to the top of the wall, only to disclose to us another +wall beyond, with a ridged, bare, and scalloped depression between. +Here footing began to be precarious for both man and beast. Our +mustangs were not shod and it was wonderful to see their slow, short, +careful steps. They knew a great deal better than we what the danger +was. It has been such experiences as this that have made me see in +horses something besides beasts of burden. In the ascent of the second +slope it was necessary to zigzag up, slowly and carefully, taking +advantage of every bulge and depression. + +Then before us twisted and dropped and curved the most dangerous +slopes I had ever seen. We had reached the height of the divide and +many of the drops on this side were perpendicular and too steep for us +to see the bottom. + +[Illustration: THIS IMMENSE CAVE WOULD HOLD TRINITY CHURCH. IN IT LIES +THE RUINED CLIFF DWELLING CALLED BETATAKIN] + +At one bad place Wetherill and Nas ta Bega, with Joe Lee, a Mormon +cowboy with us, were helping one of the pack-horses named Chub. On the +steepest part of this slope Chub fell and began to slide. His momentum +jerked the rope from the hands of Wetherill and the Indian. But Joe +Lee held on. Joe was a giant and being a Mormon he could not let go of +anything he had. He began to slide with the horse, holding back with +all his might. + +[Illustration: THE WIND-WORN TREACHEROUS SLOPES ON THE WAY TO +NONNEZOSHE] + +It seemed that both man and beast must slide down to where the slope +ended in a yawning precipice. Chub was snorting or screaming in +terror. Our mustangs were frightened and rearing. It was not a place +to have trouble with horses. + +I had a moment of horrified fascination, in which Chub turned clear +over. Then he slid into a little depression that, with Joe's hold on +the lasso, momentarily checked his descent. Quick as thought Joe ran +sidewise and down to the bulge of rock, and yelled for help. I got +to him a little ahead of Wetherill and Nas ta Bega; and together we +pulled Chub up out of danger. At first we thought he had been choked +to death. But he came to, and got up, a bloody, skinned horse, but +alive and safe. I have never seen a more magnificent effort than Joe +Lee's. Those fellows are built that way. Wetherill has lost horses on +those treacherous slopes, and that risk is the only thing about the +trip which is not splendid. + +We got over that bad place without further incident, and presently +came to a long swell of naked stone that led down to a narrow green +split. This one had straight walls and wound away out of sight. It was +the head of a canyon. + +"Nonnezoshe Boco," said the Indian. + +This then was the Canyon of the Rainbow Bridge. When we got down into +it we were a happy crowd. The mode of travel here was a selection of +the best levels, the best places to cross the brook, the best places +to climb, and it was a process of continual repetition. There was no +trail ahead of us, but we certainly left one behind. And as Wetherill +picked out the course and the mustangs followed him I had all freedom +to see and feel the beauty, color, wildness and changing character of +Nonnezoshe Boco. + +My experiences in the desert did not count much in the trip down this +strange, beautiful lost canyon. All canyons are not alike. This one +did not widen, though the walls grew higher. They began to lean and +bulge, and the narrow strip of sky above resembled a flowing blue +river. Huge caverns had been hollowed out by water or wind. And when +the brook ran close under one of these overhanging places the running +water made a singular indescribable sound. A crack from a hoof on a +stone rang like a hollow bell and echoed from wall to wall. And the +croak of a frog--the only living creature I noted in the canyon--was a +weird and melancholy thing. + +"We're sure gettin' deep down," said Joe Lee. + +"How do you know?" I asked. + +"Here are the pink and yellow sego lilies. Only the white ones are +found above." + +I dismounted to gather some of these lilies. They were larger than +the white ones of higher altitudes, of a most exquisite beauty and +fragility, and of such rare pink and yellow hues as I had never seen. + +"They bloom only where it's always summer," explained Joe. + +That expressed their nature. They were the orchids of the summer +canyons. They stood up everywhere star-like out of the green. It was +impossible to prevent the mustangs treading them under foot. And as +the canyon deepened, and many little springs added their tiny volume +to the brook, every grassy bench was dotted with lilies, like a green +sky star-spangled. And this increasing luxuriance manifested itself +in the banks of purple moss and clumps of lavender daisies and +great mounds of yellow violets. The brook was lined by blossoming +buck-brush; the rocky corners showed the crimson and magenta of +cactus; and there were ledges of green with shining moss that sparkled +with little white flowers. The hum of bees filled the fragrant, dreamy +air. + +But by and bye, this green and colorful and verdant beauty, the almost +level floor of the canyon, the banks of soft earth, the thickets and +clumps of cottonwood, the shelving caverns and bulging walls--these +features were gradually lost, and Nonnezoshe began to deepen in bare +red and white stone steps. The walls sheered away from one another, +breaking into sections and ledges, and rising higher and higher, and +there began to be manifested a dark and solemn concordance with the +nature that had created this old rent in the earth. + +There was a stretch of miles where steep steps in hard red rock +alternated with long levels of round boulders. Here, one by one, the +mustangs went lame and we had to walk. And we slipped and stumbled +along over these loose, treacherous stones. The hours passed; the toil +increased; the progress diminished; one of the mustangs failed and was +left. And all the while the dimensions of Nonnezoshe Boco magnified +and its character changed. It became a thousand-foot walled canyon, +leaning, broken, threatening, with great yellow slides blocking +passage, with huge sections split off from the main wall, with immense +dark and gloomy caverns. Strangely it had no intersecting canyons. It +jealously guarded its secret. Its unusual formations of cavern and +pillar and half-arch led me to expect any monstrous stone-shape left +by avalanche or cataclysm. + +Down and down we toiled. And now the stream-bed was bare of boulders +and the banks of earth. The floods that had rolled down that canyon +had here borne away every loose thing. All the floor, in places, was +bare red and white stone, polished, glistening, slippery, affording +treacherous foothold. And the time came when Wetherill abandoned the +stream-bed to take to the rock-strewn and cactus-covered ledges above. + +The canyon widened ahead into a great ragged iron-lined amphitheater, +and then apparently turned abruptly at right angles. Sunset rimmed the +walls. + +I had been tired for a long time and now I began to limp and lag. I +wondered what on earth would make Wetherill and the Indians tired. It +was with great pleasure that I observed the giant Joe Lee plodding +slowly along. And when I glanced behind at my straggling party it was +with both admiration for their gameness and glee for their disheveled +and weary appearance. Finally I got so that all I could do was to drag +myself onward with eyes down on the rough ground. In this way I kept +on until I heard Wetherill call me. He had stopped--was waiting for +me. The dark and silent Indian stood beside him, looking down the +canyon. + +I saw past the vast jutting wall that had obstructed my view. A mile +beyond, all was bright with the colors of sunset, and spanning the +canyon in the graceful shape and beautiful hues of the rainbow was a +magnificent natural bridge. + +"Nonnezoshe," said Wetherill, simply. + +This rainbow bridge was the one great natural phenomenon, the one +grand spectacle which I had ever seen that did not at first give vague +disappointment, a confounding of reality, a disenchantment of contrast +with what the mind had conceived. + +But this thing was glorious. It absolutely silenced me. My body and +brain, weary and dull from the toil of travel, received a singular and +revivifying freshness. I had a strange, mystic perception that this +rosy-hued, tremendous arch of stone was a goal I had failed to reach in +some former life, but had now found. Here was a rainbow magnified even +beyond dreams, a thing not transparent and ethereal, but solidified, a +work of ages, sweeping up majestically from the red walls, its iris-hued +arch against the blue sky. + +[Illustration: FIRST SIGHT OF THE GREAT NATURAL BRIDGE] + +[Illustration: NONNEZOSHE] + +Then we plodded on again. Wetherill worked around to circle the huge +amphitheater. The way was a steep slant, rough and loose and dragging. +The rocks were as hard and jagged as lava, and cactus hindered +progress. Soon the rosy and golden lights had faded. All the walls +turned pale and steely and the bridge loomed dark. + +We were to camp all night under the bridge. Just before we reached it +Nas ta Bega halted with one of his singular motions. He was saying his +prayer to this great stone god. Then he began to climb straight up the +steep slope. Wetherill told me the Indian would not pass under the +arch. + +When we got to the bridge and unsaddled and unpacked the lame mustangs +twilight had fallen. The horses were turned loose to fare for what +scant grass grew on bench and slope. Firewood was even harder to +find than grass. When our simple meal had been eaten there was gloom +gathering in the canyon and stars had begun to blink in the pale strip +of blue above the lofty walls. The place was oppressive and we were +mostly silent. + +Presently I moved away into the strange dark shadow cast by the +bridge. It was a weird black belt, where I imagined I was invisible, +but out of which I could see. There was a slab of rock upon which I +composed myself, to watch, to feel. + +A stiffening of my neck made me aware that I had been continually +looking up at the looming arch. I found that it never seemed the same +any two moments. Near at hand it was too vast a thing for immediate +comprehension. I wanted to ponder on what had formed it--to reflect +upon its meaning as to age and force of nature. Yet it seemed that all +I could do was to see. White stars hung along the dark curved +line. The rim of the arch appeared to shine. The moon was up there +somewhere. The far side of the canyon was now a blank black wall. Over +its towering rim showed a pale glow. It brightened. The shades in the +canyon lightened, then a white disk of moon peeped over the dark line. +The bridge turned to silver. + +It was then that I became aware of the presence of Nas ta Bega. Dark, +silent, statuesque, with inscrutable face uplifted, with all that was +spiritual of the Indian suggested by a somber and tranquil knowledge +of his place there, he represented to me that which a solitary figure +of human life represents in a great painting. Nonnezoshe needed life, +wild life, life of its millions of years--and here stood the dark and +silent Indian. + +Long afterward I walked there alone, to and fro, under the bridge. The +moon had long since crossed the streak of star-fired blue above, and +the canyon was black in shadow. At times a current of wind, with all +the strangeness of that strange country in its moan, rushed through +the great stone arch. At other times there was silence such as I +imagined might have dwelt deep in the center of the earth. And again +an owl hooted, and the sound was nameless. It had a mocking echo. An +echo of night, silence, gloom, melancholy, death, age, eternity! + +The Indian lay asleep with his dark face upturned, and the other +sleepers lay calm and white in the starlight. I seemed to see in them +the meaning of life and the past--the illimitable train of faces +that had shone under the stars. There was something nameless in that +canyon, and whether or not it was what the Indian embodied in the +great Nonnezoshe, or the life of the present, or the death of the +ages, or the nature so magnificently manifested in those silent, +dreaming, waiting walls--the truth was that there was a spirit. + +I did sleep a few hours under Nonnezoshe, and when I awoke the tip of +the arch was losing its cold darkness and beginning to shine. The sun +had just risen high enough over some low break in the wall to reach +the bridge. I watched. Slowly, in wondrous transformation, the gold +and blue and rose and pink and purple blended their hues, softly, +mistily, cloudily, until once more the arch was a rainbow. + +I realized that long before life had evolved upon the earth this +bridge had spread its grand arch from wall to wall, black and mystic +at night, transparent and rosy in the sunrise, at sunset a flaming +curve limned against the heavens. When the race of man had passed it +would, perhaps, stand there still. It was not for many eyes to see. +The tourist, the leisurely traveler, the comfort-loving motorist would +never behold it. Only by toil, sweat, endurance and pain could any +man ever look at Nonnezoshe. It seemed well to realize that the great +things of life had to be earned. Nonnezoshe would always be alone, +grand, silent, beautiful, unintelligible; and as such I bade it a +mute, reverent farewell. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +COLORADO TRAILS + +Riding and tramping trails would lose half their charm if the motive +were only to hunt and to fish. It seems fair to warn the reader who +longs to embark upon a bloody game hunt or a chronicle of fishing +records that this is not that kind of story. But it will be one for +those who love horses and dogs, the long winding dim trails, the wild +flowers and the dark still woods, the fragrance of spruce and the +smell of camp-fire smoke. And as well for those who love to angle in +brown lakes or rushing brooks or chase after the baying hounds or +stalk the stag on his lonely heights. + +[Illustration: PACK HORSES ON A SAGE SLOPE IN COLORADO] + +We left Denver on August twenty-second over the Moffet road and had a +long wonderful ride through the mountains. The Rockies have a sweep, a +limitless sweep, majestic and grand. For many miles we crossed no +streams, and climbed and wound up barren slopes. Once across the divide, +however, we descended into a country of black forests and green valleys. +Yampa, a little hamlet with a past prosperity, lay in the wide valley of +the Bear River. It was picturesque but idle, and a better name for it +would have been Sleepy Hollow. The main and only street was very wide +and dusty, bordered by old board walks and vacant stores. It seemed a +deserted street of a deserted village. Teague, the guide, lived there. +He assured me it was not quite as lively a place as in the early days +when it was a stage center for an old and rich mining section. We stayed +there at the one hotel for a whole day, most of which I spent sitting on +the board walk. Whenever I chanced to look down the wide street it +seemed always the same--deserted. But Yampa had the charm of being old +and forgotten, and for that reason I would like to live there a while. + +[Illustration: THE GRASSY UPLANDS, WITH WHITELEY'S PEAK IN THE +DISTANCE] + +On August twenty-third we started in two buckboards for the foothills, +some fifteen miles westward, where Teague's men were to meet us with +saddle and pack horses. The ride was not interesting until the Flattop +Mountains began to loom, and we saw the dark green slopes of spruce, +rising to bare gray cliffs and domes, spotted with white banks of +snow. I felt the first cool breath of mountain air, exhilarating and +sweet. From that moment I began to live. + +We had left at six-thirty. Teague, my guide, had been so rushed with +his manifold tasks that I had scarcely seen him, let alone gotten +acquainted with him. And on this ride he was far behind with our load +of baggage. We arrived at the edge of the foothills about noon. It +appeared to be the gateway of a valley, with aspen groves and ragged +jack-pines on the slopes, and a stream running down. Our driver called +it the Stillwater. That struck me as strange, for the stream was in +a great hurry. R.C. spied trout in it, and schools of darkish, +mullet-like fish which we were informed were grayling. We wished for +our tackle then and for time to fish. + +Teague's man, a young fellow called Virgil, met us here. He did not +resemble the ancient Virgil in the least, but he did look as if he had +walked right out of one of my romances of wild riders. So I took a +liking to him at once. + +But the bunch of horses he had corralled there did not excite any +delight in me. Horses, of course, were the most important part of our +outfit. And that moment of first seeing the horses that were to carry +us on such long rides was an anxious and thrilling one. I have felt +it many times, and it never grows any weaker from experience. Many a +scrubby lot of horses had turned out well upon acquaintance, and some +I had found hard to part with at the end of trips. Up to that time, +however, I had not seen a bear hunter's horses; and I was much +concerned by the fact that these were a sorry looking outfit, dusty, +ragged, maneless, cut and bruised and crippled. Still, I reflected, +they were bunched up so closely that I could not tell much about them, +and I decided to wait for Teague before I chose a horse for any one. + +In an hour Teague trotted up to our resting place. Beside his own +mount he had two white saddle horses, and nine pack-animals, heavily +laden. Teague was a sturdy rugged man with bronzed face and keen +gray-blue eyes, very genial and humorous. Straightway I got the +impression that he liked work. + +"Let's organize," he said, briskly. "Have you picked the horses you're +goin' to ride?" + +Teague led from the midst of that dusty kicking bunch a rangy powerful +horse, with four white feet, a white face and a noble head. He had +escaped my eye. I felt thrillingly that here at least was one horse. + +The rest of the horses were permanently crippled or temporarily lame, +and I had no choice, except to take the one it would be kindest to +ride. + +"He ain't much like your Silvermane or Black Star," said Teague, +laughing. + +"What do you know about them?" I asked, very much pleased at this from +him. + +"Well, I know all about them," he replied. "I'll have you the best horse +in this country in a few days. Fact is I've bought him, an' he'll come +with my cowboy, Vern.... Now, we're organized. Let's move." + +[Illustration: A SPRUCE-SHADED, FLOWER-SKIRTED LAKE] + +[Illustration: LOOKING DOWN UPON CLOUD-FILLED VALLEYS] + +[Illustration: SEARCHING BURNED-OVER RANGES FOR GAME] + +We rode through a meadow along a spruce slope above which towered the +great mountain. It was a zigzag trail, rough, boggy, and steep in +places. The Stillwater meandered here, and little breaks on the water +gave evidence of feeding trout. We had several miles of meadow, and +then sheered off to the left up into the timber. It was a spruce +forest, very still and fragrant. We climbed out up on a bench, and +across a flat, up another bench, out of the timber into the patches of +snow. Here snow could be felt in the air. Water was everywhere. I saw +a fox, a badger, and another furry creature, too illusive to name. One +more climb brought us to the top of the Flattop Pass, about eleven +thousand feet. The view in the direction from which we had come was +splendid, and led the eye to the distant sweeping ranges, dark and dim +along the horizon. The Flattops were flat enough, but not very wide +at this pass, and we were soon going down again into a green gulf +of spruce, with ragged peaks lifting beyond. Here again I got the +suggestion of limitless space. It took us an hour to ride down to +Little Trappers Lake, a small clear green sheet of water. The larger +lake was farther down. It was big, irregular, and bordered by spruce +forests, and shadowed by the lofty gray peaks. + +The Camp was on the far side. The air appeared rather warm, and +mosquitoes bothered us. However, they did not stay long. It was after +sunset and I was too tired to have many impressions. + +Our cook appeared to be a melancholy man. He had a deep quavering +voice, a long drooping mustache and sad eyes. He was silent most of +the time. The men called him Bill, and yelled when they spoke, for he +was somewhat deaf. It did not take me long to discover that he was a +good cook. + +Our tent was pitched down the slope from the cook tent. We were too +tired to sit round a camp-fire and talk. The stars were white and +splendid, and they hung over the flat ridges like great beacon lights. +The lake appeared to be inclosed on three sides by amphitheatric +mountains, black with spruce up to the gray walls of rock. The night +grew cold and very still. The bells on the horses tinkled distantly. +There was a soft murmur of falling water. A lonesome coyote barked, +and that thrilled me. Teague's dogs answered this prowler, and some of +them had voices to make a hunter thrill. One, the bloodhound Cain, had +a roar like a lion's. I had not gotten acquainted with the hounds, and +I was thinking about them when I fell asleep. + +Next morning I was up at five-thirty. The air was cold and nipping and +frost shone on grass and sage. A red glow of sunrise gleamed on the +tip of the mountain and slowly grew downward. + +The cool handle of an axe felt good. I soon found, however, that I +could not wield it long for lack of breath. The elevation was close to +ten thousand feet and the air at that height was thin and rare. After +each series of lusty strokes I had to rest. R.C., who could handle +an axe as he used to swing a baseball bat, made fun of my efforts. +Whereupon I relinquished the tool to him, and chuckled at his +discomfiture. + +After breakfast R.C. and I got out our tackles and rigged up fly rods, +and sallied forth to the lake with the same eagerness we had felt when +we were boys going after chubs and sunfish. The lake glistened green +in the sunlight and it lay like a gem at the foot of the magnificent +black slopes. + +The water was full of little floating particles that Teague called +wild rice. I thought the lake had begun to work, like eastern lakes +during dog days. It did not look propitious for fishing, but Teague +reassured us. The outlet of this lake was the head of White River. We +tried the outlet first, but trout were not rising there. Then we +began wading and casting along a shallow bar of the lake. Teague had +instructed us to cast, then drag the flies slowly across the surface +of the water, in imitation of a swimming fly or bug. I tried this, and +several times, when the leader was close to me and my rod far back, I +had strikes. With my rod in that position I could not hook the trout. +Then I cast my own way, letting the flies sink a little. To my +surprise and dismay I had only a few strikes and could not hook the +fish. + +R.C., however, had better luck, and that too in wading right over the +ground I had covered. To beat me at anything always gave him the most +unaccountable fiendish pleasure. + +"These are educated trout," he said. "It takes a skillful fisherman to +make them rise. Now anybody can catch the big game of the sea, which +is your forte. But here you are N.G.... Watch me cast!" + +I watched him make a most atrocious cast. But the water boiled, and he +hooked two good-sized trout at once. Quite speechless with envy and +admiration I watched him play them and eventually beach them. They +were cutthroat trout, silvery-sided and marked with the red slash +along their gills that gave them their name. I did not catch any while +wading, but from the bank I spied one, and dropping a fly in front +of his nose, I got him. R.C. caught four more, all about a pound in +weight, and then he had a strike that broke his leader. He did not +have another leader, so we walked back to camp. + +Wild flowers colored the open slopes leading down out of the forest. +Golden rod, golden daisies, and bluebells were plentiful and very +pretty. Here I found my first columbine, the beautiful flower that is +the emblem of Colorado. In vivid contrast to its blue, Indian paint +brush thinly dotted the slopes and varied in color from red to pink +and from white to yellow. + +My favorite of all wild flowers--the purple asters--were there too, +on tall nodding stems, with pale faces held up to the light. The +reflection of mountain and forest in Trappers Lake was clear and +beautiful. + +The hounds bayed our approach to camp. We both made a great show about +beginning our little camp tasks, but we did not last very long. The +sun felt so good and it was so pleasant to lounge under a pine. One of +the blessings of outdoor life was that a man could be like an Indian +and do nothing. So from rest I passed to dreams and from dreams to +sleep. + +In the afternoon R.C. and I went out again to try for trout. The lake +appeared to be getting thicker with that floating muck and we could +not raise a fish. Then we tried the outlet again. Here the current +was swift. I found a place between two willow banks where trout were +breaking on the surface. It took a long cast for me, but about every +tenth attempt I would get a fly over the right place and raise a fish. +They were small, but that did not detract from my gratification. The +light on the water was just right for me to see the trout rise, and +that was a beautiful sight as well as a distinct advantage. I had +caught four when a shout from R.C. called me quickly down stream. I +found him standing in the middle of a swift chute with his rod bent +double and a long line out. + +"Got a whale!" he yelled. "See him--down there--in that white water. +See him flash red!... Go down there and land him for me. Hurry! He's +got all the line!" + +I ran below to an open place in the willows. Here the stream was +shallow and very swift. In the white water I caught a flashing gleam +of red. Then I saw the shine of the leader. But I could not reach it +without wading in. When I did this the trout lunged out. He looked +crimson and silver. I could have put my fist in his mouth. + +"Grab the leader! Yank him out!" yelled R.C. in desperation. "There! +He's got all the line." + +"But it'd be better to wade down," I yelled back. + +He shouted that the water was too deep and for me to save his fish. +This was an awful predicament for me. I knew the instant I grasped +the leader that the big trout would break it or pull free. The same +situation, with different kinds of fish, had presented itself many +times on my numberless fishing jaunts with R.C. and they all crowded +to my mind. Nevertheless I had no choice. Plunging in to my knees I +frantically reached for the leader. The red trout made a surge. I +missed him. R.C. yelled that something would break. That was no news +to me. Another plunge brought me in touch with the leader. Then I +essayed to lead the huge cutthroat ashore. He was heavy. But he was +tired and that gave birth to hopes. Near the shore as I was about to +lift him he woke up, swam round me twice, then ran between my legs. + +When, a little later, R.C. came panting down stream I was sitting on +the bank, all wet, with one knee skinned and I was holding his broken +leader in my hands. Strange to say, he went into a rage! Blamed me for +the loss of that big trout! Under such circumstances it was always +best to maintain silence and I did so as long as I could. After his +paroxysm had spent itself and he had become somewhat near a rational +being once more he asked me: + +"Was he big?" + +"Oh--a whale of a trout!" I replied. + +"Humph! Well, how big?" + +Thereupon I enlarged upon the exceeding size and beauty of that trout. +I made him out very much bigger than he actually looked to me and I +minutely described his beauty and wonderful gaping mouth. R.C. groaned +and that was my revenge. + +We returned to camp early, and I took occasion to scrape acquaintance +with the dogs. It was a strangely assorted pack--four Airedales, one +bloodhound and seven other hounds of mixed breeds. There were also +three pup hounds, white and yellow, very pretty dogs, and like all +pups, noisy and mischievous. They made friends easily. This applied +also to one of the Airedales, a dog recently presented to Teague by +some estimable old lady who had called him Kaiser and made a pet of +him. As might have been expected of a dog, even an Airedale, with that +name, he was no good. But he was very affectionate, and exceedingly +funny. When he was approached he had a trick of standing up, holding +up his forepaws in an appealing sort of way, with his head twisted in +the most absurd manner. This was when he was chained--otherwise he +would have been climbing up on anyone who gave him the chance. He was +the most jealous dog I ever saw. He could not be kept chained very +long because he always freed himself. At meal time he would slip +noiselessly behind some one and steal the first morsel he could +snatch. Bill was always rapping Kaiser with pans or billets of +firewood. + +Next morning was clear and cold. We had breakfast, and then saddled up +to ride to Big Fish Lake. For an hour we rode up and down ridges of +heavy spruce, along a trail. We saw elk and deer sign. Elk tracks +appeared almost as large as cow tracks. When we left the trail to +climb into heavy timber we began to look for game. The forest was +dark, green and brown, silent as a grave. No squirrels or birds or +sign of life! We had a hard ride up and down steep slopes. A feature +was the open swaths made by avalanches. The ice and snow had cut a +path through the timber, and the young shoots of spruce were springing +up. I imagined the roar made by that tremendous slide. + +We found elk tracks everywhere and some fresh sign, where the grass +had been turned recently, and also much old and fresh sign where the +elk had skinned the saplings by rubbing their antlers to get rid of +the velvet. Some of these rubs looked like blazes made by an axe. The +Airedale Fox, a wonderful dog, routed out a she-coyote that evidently +had a den somewhere, for she barked angrily at the dog and at us. Fox +could not catch her. She led him round in a circle, and we could not +see her in the thick brush. It was fine to hear the wild staccato note +again. + +We crossed many little parks, bright and green, blooming with wild +asters and Indian paint brush and golden daisies. The patches of red +and purple were exceedingly beautiful. Everywhere we rode we were knee +deep in flowers. At length we came out of the heavy timber down upon +Big Fish Lake. This lake was about half a mile across, deep blue-green +in color, with rocky shores. Upon the opposite side were beaver +mounds. We could see big trout swimming round, but they would not rise +to a fly. R.C. went out in an old boat and paddled to the head of the +lake and fished at the inlet. Here he caught a fine trout. I went +around and up the little river that fed the lake. It curved swiftly +through a meadow, and had deep, dark eddies under mossy, flowering +banks. At other places the stream ran swiftly over clean gravel beds. +It was musical and clear as crystal, and to the touch of hand, as cold +as ice water. I waded in and began to cast. I saw several big trout, +and at last coaxed one to take my fly. But I missed him. Then in a +swift current a flash of red caught my eye and I saw a big trout +lazily rise to my fly. Saw him take it! And I hooked him. He was not +active, but heavy and plunging, and he bored in and out, and made +short runs. I had not seen such beautiful red colors in any fish. He +made a fine fight, but at last I landed him on the grass, a cutthroat +of about one and three-quarter pounds, deep red and silver and green, +and spotted all over. That was the extent of my luck. + +We went back to the point, and thought we would wait a little while to +see if the trout would begin to rise. But they did not. A storm began +to mutter and boom along the battlements. Great gray clouds obscured +the peaks, and at length the rain came. It was cold and cutting. We +sought the shelter of spruces for a while, and waited. After an hour +it cleared somewhat, and R.C. caught a fine one-pound cutthroat, all +green and silver, with only two slashes of red along under the gills. +Then another storm threatened. Before we got ready to leave for camp +the rain began again to fall, and we looked for a wetting. It was +raining hard when we rode into the woods and very cold. The spruces +were dripping. But we soon got warm from hard riding up steep slopes. +After an hour the rain ceased, the sun came out, and from the open +places high up we could see a great green void of spruce, and beyond, +boundless black ranges, running off to dim horizon. We flushed a big +blue grouse with a brood of little ones, and at length another big +one. + +In one of the open parks the Airedale Fox showed signs of scenting +game. There was a patch of ground where the grass was pressed down. +Teague whispered and pointed. I saw the gray rump of an elk protruding +from behind some spruces. I beckoned for R.C. and we both dismounted. +Just then the elk rose and stalked out. It was a magnificent bull with +crowning lofty antlers. The shoulders and neck appeared black. He +raised his head, and turning, trotted away with ease and grace for +such a huge beast. That was a wild and beautiful sight I had not seen +before. We were entranced, and when he disappeared, we burst out with +exclamations. + +We rode on toward camp, and out upon a bench that bordered the lofty +red wall of rock. From there we went down into heavy forest again, dim +and gray, with its dank, penetrating odor, and oppressive stillness. +The forest primeval! When we rode out of that into open slopes the +afternoon was far advanced, and long shadows lay across the distant +ranges. When we reached camp, supper and a fire to warm cold wet feet +were exceedingly welcome. I was tired. + +Later, R.C. and I rode up a mile or so above camp, and hitched our +horses near Teague's old corral. Our intention was to hunt up along +the side of the slope. Teague came along presently. We waited, hoping +the big black clouds would break. But they did not. They rolled down +with gray, swirling edges, like smoke, and a storm enveloped us. We +sought shelter in a thick spruce. It rained and hailed. By and bye +the air grew bitterly cold, and Teague suggested we give up, and ride +back. So we did. The mountains were dim and obscure through the gray +gloom, and the black spear-tipped spruces looked ghostly against +the background. The lightning was vivid, and the thunder rolled and +crashed in magnificent bombardment across the heavens. + +Next morning at six-thirty the sun was shining clear, and only a +few clouds sailed in the blue. Wind was in the west and the weather +promised fair. But clouds began to creep up behind the mountains, +first hazy, then white, then dark. Nevertheless we decided to ride +out, and cross the Flattop rim, and go around what they call the +Chinese Wall. It rained as we climbed through the spruces above Little +Trappers Lake. And as we got near the top it began to hail. Again +the air grew cold. Once out on top I found a wide expanse, green and +white, level in places, but with huge upheavals of ridge. There +were flowers here at eleven thousand feet. The view to the rear was +impressive--a wide up-and-down plain studded with out-cropping of +rocks, and patches of snow. We were then on top of the Chinese Wall, +and the view to the west was grand. At the moment hail was falling +thick and white, and to stand above the streaked curtain, as it fell +into the abyss was a strange new experience. Below, two thousand feet, +lay the spruce forest, and it sloped and dropped into the White River +Valley, which in turn rose, a long ragged dark-green slope, up to a +bare jagged peak. Beyond this stretched range on range, dark under the +lowering pall of clouds. On top we found fresh Rocky Mountain sheep +tracks. A little later, going into a draw, we crossed a snow-bank, +solid as ice. We worked down into this draw into the timber. It +hailed, and rained some more, then cleared. The warm sun felt good. +Once down in the parks we began to ride through a flower-garden. Every +slope was beautiful in gold, and red, and blue and white. These parks +were luxuriant with grass, and everywhere we found elk beds, where the +great stags had been lying, to flee at our approach. But we did not +see one. The bigness of this slope impressed me. We rode miles and +miles, and every park was surrounded by heavy timber. At length we +got into a burned district where the tall dead spruces stood sear and +ghastly, and the ground was so thickly strewn with fallen trees that +we had difficulty in threading a way through them. Patches of aspen +grew on the hillside, still fresh and green despite this frosty +morning. Here we found a sego lily, one of the most beautiful of +flowers. Here also I saw pink Indian paint brush. At the foot of this +long burned slope we came to the White River trail, and followed it up +and around to camp. + +Late in the evening, about sunset, I took my rifle and slipped off +into the woods back of camp. I walked a short distance, then paused to +listen to the silence of the forest. There was not a sound. It was a +place of peace. By and bye I heard snapping of twigs, and presently +heard R.C. and Teague approaching me. We penetrated half a mile into +the spruce, pausing now and then to listen. At length R.C. heard +something. We stopped. After a little I heard the ring of a horn on +wood. It was thrilling. Then came the crack of a hoof on stone, then +the clatter of a loosened rock. We crept on. But that elk or deer +evaded us. We hunted around till dark without farther sign of any +game. + +R.C. and Teague and I rode out at seven-thirty and went down White +River for three miles. In one patch of bare ground we saw tracks of +five deer where they had come in for salt. Then we climbed high up a +burned ridge, winding through patches of aspen. We climbed ridge after +ridge, and at last got out of the burned district into reaches of +heavy spruce. Coming to a park full of deer and elk tracks, we +dismounted and left our horses. I went to the left, and into some +beautiful woods, where I saw beds of deer or elk, and many tracks. +Returning to the horses, I led them into a larger park, and climbed +high into the open and watched. There I saw some little squirrels +about three inches long, and some gray birds, very tame. I waited a +long time before there was any sign of R.C. or Teague, and then it was +the dog I saw first. I whistled, and they climbed up to me. We mounted +and rode on for an hour, then climbed through a magnificent forest of +huge trees, windfalls, and a ferny, mossy, soft ground. At length we +came out at the head of a steep, bare slope, running down to a verdant +park crossed by stretches of timber. On the way back to camp we ran +across many elk beds and deer trails, and for a while a small band of +elk evidently trotted ahead of us, but out of sight. + +Next day we started for a few days' trip to Big Fish Lake. R.C. and I +went along up around the mountain. I found our old trail, and was at a +loss only a few times. We saw fresh elk sign, but no live game at all. + +In the afternoon we fished. I went up the river half a mile, while +R.C. fished the lake. Neither of us had any luck. Later we caught four +trout, one of which was fair sized. + +Toward sunset the trout began to rise all over the lake, but we could +not get them to take a fly. + +The following day we went up to Twin Lakes and found them to be +beautiful little green gems surrounded by spruce. I saw some big trout +in the large lake, but they were wary. We tried every way to get a +strike. No use! In the little lake matters were worse. It was full of +trout up to two pounds. They would run at the fly, only to refuse it. +Exasperating work! We gave up and returned to Big Fish. After supper +we went out to try again. The lake was smooth and quiet. All at once, +as if by concert, the trout began to rise everywhere. In a little bay +we began to get strikes. I could see the fish rise to the fly. The +small ones were too swift and the large ones too slow, it seemed. +We caught one, and then had bad luck. We snarled our lines, drifted +wrong, broke leaders, snapped off flies, hooked too quick and too +slow, and did everything that was clumsy. I lost two big fish because +they followed the fly as I drew it toward me across the water to +imitate a swimming fly. Of course this made a large slack line which I +could not get up. Finally I caught one big fish, and altogether we got +seven. All in that little bay, where the water was shallow! In other +places we could not catch a fish. I had one vicious strike. The fish +appeared to be feeding on a tiny black gnat, which we could not +imitate. This was the most trying experience of all. We ought to have +caught a basketful. + +The next day, September first, we rode down along the outlet of Big +Fish to White River and down that for miles to fish for grayling. The +stream was large and swift and cold. It appeared full of ice water +and rocks, but no fish. We met fishermen, an automobile, and a camp +outfit. That was enough for me. Where an automobile can run, I do not +belong. The fishing was poor. But the beautiful open valley, flowered +in gold and purple, was recompense for a good deal of bad luck. + +A grayling, or what they called a grayling, was not as beautiful a +fish as my fancy had pictured. He resembled a sucker or mullet, had a +small mouth, dark color, and was rather a sluggish-looking fish. + +We rode back through a thunderstorm, and our yellow slickers afforded +much comfort. + +Next morning was bright, clear, cold. I saw the moon go down over a +mountain rim rose-flushed with the sunrise. + +R.C. and I, with Teague, started for the top of the big mountain on +the west. I had a new horse, a roan, and he looked a thoroughbred. +He appeared tired. But I thought he would be great. We took a trail +through the woods, dark green-gray, cool and verdant, odorous and +still. We began to climb. Occasionally we crossed parks, and little +streams. Up near the long, bare slope the spruce trees grew large and +far apart. They were beautiful, gray as if bearded with moss. Beyond +this we got into the rocks and climbing became arduous. Long zigzags +up the slope brought us to the top of a notch, where at the right lay +a patch of snow. The top of the mountain was comparatively flat, but +it had timbered ridges and bare plains and little lakes, with dark +domes, rising beyond. We rode around to the right, climbing out of the +timber to where the dwarf spruces and brush had a hard struggle for +life. The great gulf below us was immense, dark, and wild, studded +with lakes and parks, and shadowed by moving clouds. + +Sheep tracks, old and fresh, afforded us thrills. + +Away on the western rim, where we could look down upon a long rugged +iron-gray ridge of mountain, our guide using the glass, found two big +stags. We all had our fill of looking. I could see them plainly with +naked eyes. + +We decided to go back to where we could climb down on that side, +halter the horses, leave all extra accoutrements, and stalk those +stags, and take a picture of them. + +I led the way, and descended under the rim. It was up and down over +rough shale, and up steps of broken rocks, and down little cliffs. +We crossed the ridge twice, many times having to lend a hand to each +other. + +At length I reached a point where I could see the stags lying down. +The place was an open spot on a rocky promonotory with a fringe of +low spruces. The stags were magnificent in size, with antlers in the +velvet. One had twelve points. They were lying in the sun to harden +their horns, according to our guide. + +I slipped back to the others, and we all decided to have a look. So we +climbed up. All of us saw the stags, twitching ears and tails. + +Then we crept back, and once more I took the lead to crawl round under +the ledge so we could come up about even with them. Here I found the +hardest going yet. I came to a wind-worn crack in the thin ledge, and +from this I could just see the tips of the antlers. I beckoned the +others. Laboriously they climbed. R.C. went through first. I went over +next, and then came Teague. + +R.C. and I started to crawl down to a big rock that was our objective +point. We went cautiously, with bated breath and pounding hearts. When +we got there I peeped over to see the stags still lying down. But they +had heads intent and wary. Still I did not think they had scented us. +R.C. took a peep, and turning excitedly he whispered: + +"See only one. And he's standing!" + +And I answered: "Let's get down around to the left where we can get a +better chance." It was only a few feet down. We got there. + +When he peeped over at this point he exclaimed: "They're gone!" + +It was a keen disappointment. "They winded us," I decided. + +We looked and looked. But we could not see to our left because of the +bulge of rock. We climbed back. Then I saw one of the stags loping +leisurely off to the left. Teague was calling. He said they had walked +off the promontory, looking up, and stopping occasionally. + +Then we realized we must climb back along that broken ridge and then +up to the summit of the mountain. So we started. + +That climb back was proof of the effect of excitement on judgment. We +had not calculated at all on the distance or ruggedness, and we had a +job before us. We got along well under the western wall, and fairly +well straight across through the long slope of timber, where we saw +sheep tracks, and expected any moment to sight an old ram. But we did +not find one, and when we got out of the timber upon the bare sliding +slope we had to halt a hundred times. We could zigzag only a few +steps. The altitude was twelve thousand feet, and oxygen seemed +scarce. I nearly dropped. All the climbing appeared to come hardest on +the middle of my right foot, and it could scarcely have burned hotter +if it had been in fire. Despite the strenuous toil there were not many +moments that I was not aware of the vastness of the gulf below, or the +peaceful lakes, brown as amber, or the golden parks. And nearer at +hand I found magenta-colored Indian paint brush, very exquisite and +rare. + +Coming out on a ledge I spied a little, dark animal with a long tail. +He was running along the opposite promontory about three hundred yards +distant. When he stopped I took a shot at him and missed by apparently +a scant half foot. + +After catching our breath we climbed more and more, and still more, at +last to drop on the rim, hot, wet and utterly spent. + +The air was keen, cold, and invigorating. We were soon rested, and +finding our horses we proceeded along the rim westward. Upon rounding +an out-cropping of rock we flushed a flock of ptarmigan--soft gray, +rock-colored birds about the size of pheasants, and when they flew +they showed beautiful white bands on their wings. These are the rare +birds that have feathered feet and turn white in winter. They did not +fly far, and several were so tame they did not fly at all. We got our +little .22 revolvers and began to shoot at the nearest bird. He was +some thirty feet distant. But we could not hit him, and at last Fox, +getting disgusted, tried to catch the bird and made him fly. I felt +relieved, for as we were getting closer and closer with every shot, it +seemed possible that if the ptarmigan sat there long enough we might +eventually have hit him. The mystery was why we shot so poorly. But +this was explained by R.C., who discovered we had been shooting the +wrong shells. + +It was a long hard ride down the rough winding trail. But riding down +was a vastly different thing from going up. + +On September third we were up at five-thirty. It was clear and cold +and the red of sunrise tinged the peaks. The snow banks looked pink. +All the early morning scene was green, fresh, cool, with that mountain +rareness of atmosphere. + +We packed to break camp, and after breakfast it took hours to get our +outfit in shape to start--a long string, resembling a caravan. I knew +that events would occur that day. First we lost one of the dogs. Vern +went back after him. The dogs were mostly chained in pairs, to prevent +their running off. Samson, the giant hound, was chained to a little +dog, and the others were paired not according to size by any means. +The poor dogs were disgusted with the arrangement. It developed +presently that Cain, the bloodhound, a strange and wild hound much +like Don of my old lion-hunting days, slipped us, and was not missed +for hours. Teague decided to send back for him later. + +Next in order of events, as we rode up the winding trail through the +spruce forest, we met Teague's cow and calf, which he had kept all +summer in camp. For some reason neither could be left. Teague told us +to ride on, and an hour later when we halted to rest on the Flattop +Mountain he came along with the rest of the train, and in the fore was +the cow alone. It was evident that she was distressed and angry, for +it took two men to keep her in the trail. And another thing plain to +me was the fact that she was going to demoralize the pack horses. We +were not across the wide range of this flat mountain when one of the +pack animals, a lean and lanky sorrel, appeared suddenly to go mad, +and began to buck off a pack. He succeeded. This inspired a black +horse, very appropriately christened Nigger, to try his luck, and he +shifted his pack in short order. It took patience, time, and effort to +repack. The cow was a disorganizer. She took up as wide a trail as a +road. And the pack animals, some with dignity and others with disgust, +tried to avoid her vicinity. Going down the steep forest trail on +the other side the real trouble began. The pack train split, ran and +bolted, crashing through the trees, plunging down steep places, and +jumping logs. It was a wild sort of chase. But luckily the packs +remained intact until we were once more on open, flat ground. All went +well for a while, except for an accident for which I was to blame. I +spurred my horse, and he plunged suddenly past R.C.'s mount, colliding +with him, tearing off my stirrup, and spraining R.C.'s ankle. This +was almost a serious accident, as R.C. has an old baseball ankle that +required favoring. + +Next in order was the sorrel. As I saw it, he heedlessly went too near +the cow, which we now called Bossy, and she acted somewhat like a +Spanish Bull, to the effect that the sorrel was scared and angered at +once. He began to run and plunge and buck right into the other pack +animals, dropping articles from his pack as he dashed along. He +stampeded the train, and gave the saddle horses a scare. When order +was restored and the whole outfit gathered together again a full +hour had been lost. By this time all the horses were tired, and that +facilitated progress, because there were no more serious breaks. + +Down in the valley it was hot, and the ride grew long and wearisome. +Nevertheless, the scenery was beautiful. The valley was green and +level, and a meandering stream formed many little lakes. On one +side was a steep hill of sage and aspens, and on the other a black, +spear-pointed spruce forest, rising sheer to a bold, blunt peak +patched with snow-banks, and bronze and gray in the clear light. Huge +white clouds sailed aloft, making dark moving shadows along the great +slopes. + +We reached our turning-off place about five o'clock, and again entered +the fragrant, quiet forest--a welcome change. We climbed and climbed, +at length coming into an open park of slopes and green borders of +forest, with a lake in the center. We pitched camp on the skirt of the +western slope, under the spruces, and worked hard to get the tents up +and boughs cut for beds. Darkness caught us with our hands still full, +and we ate supper in the light of a camp-fire, with the black, deep +forest behind, and the pale afterglow across the lake. + +I had a bad night, being too tired to sleep well. Many times I saw the +moon shadows of spruce branches trembling on the tent walls, and the +flickering shadows of the dying camp-fire. I heard the melodious +tinkle of the bells on the hobbled horses. Bossy bawled often--a +discordant break in the serenity of the night. Occasionally the hounds +bayed her. + +Toward morning I slept some, and awakened with what seemed a broken +back. All, except R.C., were slow in crawling out. The sun rose hot. +This lower altitude was appreciated by all. After breakfast we set to +work to put the camp in order. + +That afternoon we rode off to look over the ground. We crossed the +park and worked up a timbered ridge remarkable for mossy, bare ground, +and higher up for its almost total absence of grass or flowers. On the +other side of this we had a fine view of Mt. Dome, a high peak across +a valley. Then we worked down into the valley, which was full of parks +and ponds and running streams. We found some fresh sign of deer, and a +good deal of old elk and deer sign. But we saw no game of any kind. It +was a tedious ride back through thick forest, where I observed many +trees that had been barked by porcupines. Some patches were four feet +from the ground, indicating that the porcupine had sat on the snow +when he gnawed those particular places. + +After sunset R.C. and I went off down a trail into the woods, and +sitting down under a huge spruce we listened. The forest was solemn +and still. Far down somewhere roared a stream, and that was all the +sound we heard. The gray shadows darkened and gloom penetrated the +aisles of the forest, until all the sheltered places were black as +pitch. The spruces looked spectral--and speaking. The silence of +the woods was deep, profound, and primeval. It all worked on my +imagination until I began to hear faint sounds, and finally grand +orchestral crashings of melody. + +On our return the strange creeping chill, that must be a descendant of +the old elemental fear, caught me at all obscure curves in the trail. + +[Illustration: A HUNTER'S CABIN ON A FROSTY MORNING] + +Next day we started off early, and climbed through the woods and into +the parks under the Dome. We scared a deer that had evidently been +drinking. His fresh tracks led before us, but we could not catch a +glimpse of him. + +[Illustration: THE TROUBLESOME COUNTRY, NOTED FOR GRIZZLY BEARS] + +We climbed out of the parks, up onto the rocky ridges where the +spruce grew scarce, and then farther to the jumble of stones that had +weathered from the great peaks above, and beyond that up the slope +where all the vegetation was dwarfed, deformed, and weird, strange +manifestation of its struggle for life. Here the air grew keener and +cooler, and the light seemed to expand. We rode on to the steep slope +that led up to the gap we were to cross between the Dome and its +companion. + +[Illustration: UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE FLATTOP MOUNTAINS] + +I saw a red fox running up the slope, and dismounting I took a quick +shot at three hundred yards, and scored a hit. It turned out to be a +cross fox, and had very pretty fur. + +When we reached the level of the deep gap the wind struck us hard and +cold. On that side opened an abyss, gray and shelving as it led down +to green timber, and then on to the yellow parks and black ridges that +gleamed under the opposite range. + +We had to work round a wide amphitheater, and up a steep corner to the +top. This turned out to be level and smooth for a long way, with a +short, velvety yellow grass, like moss, spotted with flowers. Here at +thirteen thousand feet, the wind hit us with exceeding force, and soon +had us with freezing hands and faces. All about us were bold black and +gray peaks, with patches of snow, and above them clouds of white and +drab, showing blue sky between. It developed that this grassy summit +ascended in a long gradual sweep, from the apex of which stretched a +grand expanse, like a plain of gold, down and down, endlessly almost, +and then up and up to end under a gray butte, highest of the points +around. The ride across here seemed to have no limit, but it was +beautiful, though severe on endurance. I saw another fox, and +dismounting, fired five shots as he ran, dusting him with three +bullets. We rode out to the edge of the mountain and looked off. It +was fearful, yet sublime. The world lay beneath us. In many places we +rode along the rim, and at last circled the great butte, and worked up +behind it on a swell of slope. Here the range ran west and the drop +was not sheer, but, gradual with fine benches for sheep. We found many +tracks and fresh sign, but did not see one sheep. Meanwhile the +hard wind had ceased, and the sun had come out, making the ride +comfortable, as far as weather was concerned. We had gotten a long way +from camp, and finding no trail to descend in that direction we turned +to retrace our steps. That was about one o'clock, and we rode and rode +and rode, until I was so tired that I could not appreciate the scenes +as I had on the way up. It took six hours to get back to camp! + +Next morning we took the hounds and rode off for bear. Eight of the +hounds were chained in braces, one big and one little dog together, +and they certainly had a hard time of it. Sampson, the giant gray and +brown hound, and Jim, the old black leader, were free to run to and +fro across the way. We rode down a few miles, and into the forest. +There were two long, black ridges, and here we were to hunt for bear. +It was the hardest kind of work, turning and twisting between the +trees, dodging snags, and brushing aside branches, and guiding a horse +among fallen logs. The forest was thick, and the ground was a rich +brown and black muck, soft to the horses' feet. Many times the hounds +got caught on snags, and had to be released. Once Sampson picked up a +scent of some kind, and went off baying. Old Jim ran across that trail +and returned, thus making it clear that there was no bear trail. We +penetrated deep between the two ridges, and came to a little lake, +about thirty feet wide, surrounded by rushes and grass. Here we rested +the horses, and incidentally, ourselves. Fox chased a duck, and it +flew into the woods and hid under a log. Fox trailed it, and Teague +shot it just as he might have a rabbit. We got two more ducks, fine +big mallards, the same way. It was amazing to me, and R.C. remarked +that never had he seen such strange and foolish ducks. + +This forest had hundreds of trees barked by porcupines, and some clear +to the top. But we met only one of the animals, and he left several +quills in the nose of one of the pups. I was of the opinion that these +porcupines destroy many fine trees, as I saw a number barked all +around. + +We did not see any bear sign. On the way back to camp we rode out of +the forest and down a wide valley, the opposite side of which was open +slope with patches of alder. Even at a distance I could discern the +color of these open glades and grassy benches. They had a tinge of +purple, like purple sage. When I got to them I found a profusion of +asters of the most exquisite shades of lavender, pink and purple. That +slope was long, and all the way up we rode through these beautiful +wild flowers. I shall never forget that sight, nor the many asters +that shone like stars out of the green. The pink ones were new to me, +and actually did not seem real. I noticed my horse occasionally nipped +a bunch and ate them, which seemed to me almost as heartless as to +tread them under foot. + +When we got up the slope and into the woods again we met a storm, and +traveled for an hour in the rain, and under the dripping spruces, +feeling the cold wet sting of swaying branches as we rode by. Then the +sun came out bright and the forest glittered, all gold and green. The +smell of the woods after a rain is indescribable. It combines a rare +tang of pine, spruce, earth and air, all refreshed. + +The day after, we left at eight o'clock, and rode down to the main +trail, and up that for five miles where we cut off to the left and +climbed into the timber. The woods were fresh and dewy, dark and cool, +and for a long time we climbed bench after bench where the grass and +ferns and moss made a thick, deep cover. Farther up we got into fallen +timber and made slow progress. At timber line we tied the horses and +climbed up to the pass between two great mountain ramparts. Sheep +tracks were in evidence, but not very fresh. Teague and I climbed on +top and R.C., with Vern, went below just along the timber line. The +climb on foot took all my strength, and many times I had to halt for +breath. The air was cold. We stole along the rim and peered over. R.C. +and Vern looked like very little men far below, and the dogs resembled +mice. + +Teague climbed higher, and left me on a promontory, watching all +around. + +The cloud pageant was magnificent, with huge billowy white masses +across the valley, and to the west great black thunderheads rolling +up. The wind began to blow hard, carrying drops of rain that stung, +and the air was nipping cold. I felt aloof from all the crowded world, +alone on the windy heights, with clouds and storm all around me. + +When the storm threatened I went back to the horses. It broke, but +was not severe after all. At length R.C. and the men returned and we +mounted to ride back to camp. The storm blew away, leaving the sky +clear and blue, and the sun shone warm. We had an hour of winding in +and out among windfalls of timber, and jumping logs, and breaking +through brush. Then the way sloped down to a beautiful forest, shady +and green, full of mossy dells, almost overgrown with ferns and low +spreading ground pine or spruce. The aisles of the forest were long +and shaded by the stately spruces. Water ran through every ravine, +sometimes a brawling brook, sometimes a rivulet hidden under +overhanging mossy banks. We scared up two lonely grouse, at long +intervals. At length we got into fallen timber, and from that worked +into a jumble of rocks, where the going was rough and dangerous. + +The afternoon waned as we rode on and on, up and down, in and out, +around, and at times the horses stood almost on their heads, sliding +down steep places where the earth was soft and black, and gave forth a +dank odor. We passed ponds and swamps, and little lakes. We saw where +beavers had gnawed down aspens, and we just escaped miring our +horses in marshes, where the grass grew, rich and golden, hiding +the treacherous mire. The sun set, and still we did not seem to get +anywhere. I was afraid darkness would overtake us, and we would get +lost in the woods. Presently we struck an old elk trail, and following +that for a while, came to a point where R.C. and I recognized a tree +and a glade where we had been before--and not far from camp--a welcome +discovery. + +Next day we broke camp and started across country for new territory +near Whitley's Peak. + +We rode east up the mountain. After several miles along an old logging +road we reached the timber, and eventually the top of the ridge. We +went down, crossing parks and swales. There were cattle pastures, and +eaten over and trodden so much they had no beauty left. Teague wanted +to camp at a salt lick, but I did not care for the place. + +We went on. The dogs crossed a bear trail, and burst out in a clamor. +We had a hard time holding them. + +The guide and I had a hot argument. I did not want to stay there and +chase a bear in a cow pasture.... So we went on, down into ranch +country, and this disgusted me further. We crossed a ranch, and rode +several miles on a highway, then turned abruptly, and climbed a rough, +rocky ridge, covered with brush and aspen. We crossed it, and went +down for several miles, and had to camp in an aspen grove, on the +slope of a ravine. It was an uninviting place to stay, but as there +was no other we had to make the best of it. The afternoon had waned. I +took a gun and went off down the ravine, until I came to a deep gorge. +Here I heard the sound of a brawling brook. I sat down for an hour, +but saw no game. + +That night I had a wretched bed, one that I could hardly stay in, +and I passed miserable hours. I got up sore, cramped, sleepy and +irritable. We had to wait three hours for the horses to be caught and +packed. I had predicted straying horses. At last we were off, and rode +along the steep slope of a canyon for several miles, and then struck a +stream of amber-colored water. As we climbed along this we came into +deep spruce forest, where it was pleasure to ride. I saw many dells +and nooks, cool and shady, full of mossy rocks and great trees. But +flowers were scarce. We were sorry to pass the head-springs of that +stream and to go on over the divide and down into the wooded, but dry +and stony country. We rode until late, and came at last to a park +where sheep had been run. I refused to camp here, and Teague, in high +dudgeon, rode on. As it turned out I was both wise and lucky, for we +rode into a park with many branches, where there was good water and +fair grass and a pretty grove of white pines in which to pitch our +tents. I enjoyed this camp, and had a fine rest at night. + +The morning broke dark and lowering. We hustled to get started before +a storm broke. It began to rain as we mounted our horses, and soon +we were in the midst of a cold rain. It blew hard. We put on our +slickers. After a short ride down through the forest we entered +Buffalo Park. This was a large park, and we lost time trying to find a +forester's trail leading out of it. At last we found one, but it soon +petered out, and we were lost in thick timber, in a driving rain, with +the cold and wind increasing. But we kept on. + +This forest was deep and dark, with tremendous windfalls, and great +canyons around which we had to travel. It took us hours to ride out of +it. When we began to descend once more we struck an old lumber road. +More luck--the storm ceased, and presently we were out on an aspen +slope with a great valley beneath, and high, black peaks beyond. Below +the aspens were long swelling slopes of sage and grass, gray and +golden and green. A ranch lay in the valley, and we crossed it to +climb up a winding ravine, once more to the aspens where we camped in +the rancher's pasture. It was a cold, wet camp, but we managed to be +fairly comfortable. + +The sunset was gorgeous. The mass of clouds broke and rolled. +There was exquisite golden light on the peaks, and many rose- and +violet-hued banks of cloud. + +Morning found us shrouded in fog. We were late starting. About nine +the curtain of gray began to lift and break. We climbed pastures and +aspen thickets, high up to the spruce, where the grass grew luxuriant, +and the red wall of rock overhung the long slopes. The view west was +magnificent--a long, bulging range of mountains, vast stretches of +green aspen slopes, winding parks of all shapes, gray and gold and +green, and jutting peaks, and here and there patches of autumn blaze +in grass and thicket. + +We spent the afternoon pitching camp on an aspen knoll, with water, +grass, and wood near at hand, and the splendid view of mountains and +valleys below. + +We spent many full days under the shadow of Whitley's Peak. After the +middle of September the aspens colored and blazed to the touch of +frost, and the mountain slopes were exceedingly beautiful. Against +a background of gray sage the gold and red and purple aspen groves +showed too much like exquisite paintings to seem real. In the mornings +the frost glistened thick and white on the grass; and after the +gorgeous sunsets of gold over the violet-hazed ranges the air grew +stingingly cold. + +Bear-chasing with a pack of hounds has been severely criticised by +many writers and I was among them. I believed it a cowardly business, +and that was why, if I chased bears with dogs, I wanted to chase the +kind that could not be treed. But like many another I did not know +what I was writing about. I did not shoot a bear out of a tree and I +would not do so, except in a case of hunger. All the same, leaving the +tree out of consideration, bear-chasing with hounds is a tremendously +exciting and hazardous game. But my ideas about sport are changing. +Hunting, in the sportsman's sense, is a cruel and degenerate business. + +[Illustration: WHITE ASPEN TREE, SHOWING MARKS OF BEAR CLAWS] + +The more I hunt the more I become convinced of something wrong about +the game. I am a different man when I get a gun in my hands. All is +exciting, hot-pressed, red. Hunting is magnificent up to the moment +the shot is fired. After that it is another matter. It is useless for +sportsmen to tell me that they, in particular, hunt right, conserve +the game, do not go beyond the limit, and all that sort of thing. I do +not believe them and I never met the guide who did. A rifle is made +for killing. When a man goes out with one he means to kill. He may +keep within the law, but that is not the question. It is a question of +spirit, and men who love to hunt are yielding to and always developing +the old primitive instinct to kill. The meaning of the spirit of life +is not clear to them. An argument may be advanced that, according to +the laws of self-preservation and the survival of the fittest, if a +man stops all strife, all fight, then he will retrograde. And that is +to say if a man does not go to the wilds now and then, and work hard +and live some semblance of the life of his progenitors, he will +weaken. It seems that he will, but I am not prepared now to say +whether or not that would be well. The Germans believe they are the +race fittest to survive over all others--and that has made me a +little sick of this Darwin business. + +[Illustration: A BLACK BEAR TREED] + +To return, however, to the fact that to ride after hounds on a wild +chase is a dangerous and wonderfully exhilarating experience, I will +relate a couple of instances, and I will leave it to my readers to +judge whether or not it is a cowardly sport. + +One afternoon a rancher visited our camp and informed us that he had +surprised a big black bear eating the carcass of a dead cow. + +"Good! We'll have a bear to-morrow night," declared Teague, in +delight. "We'll get him even if the trail is a day old. But he'll come +back to-night." + +Early next morning the young rancher and three other boys rode into +camp, saying they would like to go with us to see the fun. We were +glad to have them, and we rode off through the frosted sage that +crackled like brittle glass under the hoofs of the horses. Our guide +led toward a branch of a park, and when we got within perhaps a +quarter of a mile Teague suggested that R.C. and I go ahead on the +chance of surprising the bear. It was owing to this suggestion that my +brother and I were well ahead of the others. But we did not see any +bear near the carcass of the cow. Old Jim and Sampson were close +behind us, and when Jim came within forty yards of that carcass he +put his nose up with a deep and ringing bay, and he shot by us like a +streak. He never went near the dead cow! Sampson bayed like thunder +and raced after Jim. + +"They're off!" I yelled to R.C. "It's a hot scent! Come on!" + +We spurred our horses and they broke across the open park to the edge +of the woods. Jim and Sampson were running straight with noses high. I +heard a string of yelps and bellows from our rear. + +"Look back!" shouted R.C. + +Teague and the cowboys were unleashing the rest of the pack. It surely +was great to see them stretch out, yelping wildly. Like the wind they +passed us. Jim and Sampson headed into the woods with deep bays. I was +riding Teague's best horse for this sort of work and he understood the +game and plainly enjoyed it. R.C.'s horse ran as fast in the woods as +he did in the open. This frightened me, and I yelled to R.C. to be +careful. I yelled to deaf ears. That is the first great risk--a rider +is not going to be careful! We were right on top of Jim and Sampson +with the pack clamoring mad music just behind. The forest rang. Both +horses hurdled logs, sometimes two at once. My old lion chases with +Buffalo Jones had made me skillful in dodging branches and snags, and +sliding knees back to avoid knocking them against trees. For a mile +the forest was comparatively open, and here we had a grand and ringing +run. I received two hard knocks, was unseated once, but held on, and +I got a stinging crack in the face from a branch. R.C. added several +more black-and-blue spots to his already spotted anatomy, and he +missed, just by an inch, a solid snag that would have broken him +in two. The pack stretched out in wild staccato chorus, the little +Airedales literally screeching. Jim got out of our sight and then +Sampson. Still it was ever more thrilling to follow by sound rather +than sight. They led up a thick, steep slope. Here we got into trouble +in the windfalls of timber and the pack drew away from us, up over the +mountain. We were half way up when we heard them jump the bear. The +forest seemed full of strife and bays and yelps. We heard the dogs go +down again to our right, and as we turned we saw Teague and the others +strung out along the edge of the park. They got far ahead of us. When +we reached the bottom of the slope they were out of sight, but we +could hear them yell. The hounds were working around on another slope, +from which craggy rocks loomed above the timber. R.C.'s horse lunged +across the park and appeared to be running off from mine. I was a +little to the right, and when my horse got under way, full speed, we +had the bad luck to plunge suddenly into soft ground. He went to his +knees, and I sailed out of the saddle fully twenty feet, to alight all +spread out and to slide like a plow. I did not seem to be hurt. When I +got up my horse was coming and he appeared to be patient with me, but +he was in a hurry. Before we got across the wet place R.C. was out of +sight. I decided that instead of worrying about him I had better think +about myself. Once on hard ground my horse fairly charged into the +woods and we broke brush and branches as if they had been punk. It +was again open forest, then a rocky slope, and then a flat ridge with +aisles between the trees. Here I heard the melodious notes of Teague's +hunting horn, and following that, the full chorus of the hounds. They +had treed the bear. Coming into still more open forest, with rocks +here and there, I caught sight of R.C. far ahead, and soon I had +glimpses of the other horses, and lastly, while riding full tilt, I +spied a big, black, glistening bear high up in a pine a hundred yards +or more distant. + +Slowing down I rode up to the circle of frenzied dogs and excited men. +The boys were all jabbering at once. Teague was beaming. R.C. sat his +horse, and it struck me that he looked sorry for the bear. + +"Fifteen minutes!" ejaculated Teague, with a proud glance at Old Jim +standing with forepaws up on the pine. + +Indeed it had been a short and ringing chase. + +All the time while I fooled around trying to photograph the treed +bear, R.C. sat there on his horse, looking upward. + +"Well, gentlemen, better kill him," said Teague, cheerfully. "If he +gets rested he'll come down." + +It was then I suggested to R.C. that he do the shooting. + +"Not much!" he exclaimed. + +The bear looked really pretty perched up there. He was as round as a +barrel and black as jet and his fur shone in the gleams of sunlight. +His tongue hung out, and his plump sides heaved, showing what a quick, +hard run he had made before being driven to the tree. What struck me +most forcibly about him was the expression in his eyes as he looked +down at those devils of hounds. He was scared. He realized his peril. +It was utterly impossible for me to see Teague's point of view. + +"Go ahead--and plug him," I replied to my brother. "Get it over." + +"You do it," he said. + +"No, I won't." + +"Why not--I'd like to know?" + +"Maybe we won't have so good a chance again--and I want you to get +your bear," I replied. + +"Why it's like--murder," he protested. + +"Oh, not so bad as that," I returned, weakly. "We need the meat. We've +not had any game meat, you know, except ducks and grouse." + +"You won't do it?" he added, grimly. + +"No, I refuse." + +Meanwhile the young ranchers gazed at us with wide eyes and the +expression on Teague's honest, ruddy face would have been funny under +other circumstances. + +"That bear will come down an' mebbe kill one of my dogs," he +protested. + +"Well, he can come for all I care," I replied, positively, and I +turned away. + +I heard R.C. curse low under his breath. Then followed the spang of his +.35 Remington. I wheeled in time to see the bear straining upward in +terrible convulsion, his head pointed high, with blood spurting from his +nose. Slowly he swayed and fell with a heavy crash. + +[Illustration: CROSSING THE COLORADO RIVER AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAND +CANYON] + +[Illustration: WHERE ROLLS THE COLORADO] + +The next bear chase we had was entirely different medicine. + +Off in the basin under the White Slides, back of our camp, the hounds +struck a fresh track and in an instant were out of sight. With the +cowboy Vern setting the pace we plunged after them. It was rough +country. Bogs, brooks, swales, rocky little parks, stretches of timber +full of windfalls, groves of aspens so thick we could scarcely squeeze +through--all these obstacles soon allowed the hounds to get far away. +We came out into a large park, right under the mountain slope, and +here we sat our horses listening to the chase. That trail led around +the basin and back near to us, up the thick green slope, where high up +near a ledge we heard the pack jump this bear. It sounded to us as if +he had been roused out of a sleep. + +"I'll bet it's one of the big grizzlies we've heard about," said +Teague. + +That was something to my taste. I have seen a few grizzlies. Riding +to higher ground I kept close watch on the few open patches up on the +slope. The chase led toward us for a while. Suddenly I saw a big bear +with a frosted coat go lumbering across one of these openings. + +"Silvertip! Silvertip!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "I saw him!" + +My call thrilled everybody. Vern spurred his horse and took to the +right. Teague advised that we climb the slope. So we made for the +timber. Once there we had to get off and climb on foot. It was steep, +rough, very hard work. I had on chaps and spurs. Soon I was hot, +laboring, and my heart began to hurt. We all had to rest. The baying +of the hounds inspirited us now and then, but presently we lost it. +Teague said they had gone over the ridge and as soon as we got up to +the top we would hear them again. We struck an elk trail with fresh +elk tracks in it. Teague said they were just ahead of us. I never +climbed so hard and fast in my life. We were all tuckered out when we +reached the top of the ridge. Then to our great disappointment we did +not hear the hounds. Mounting we rode along the crest of this wooded +ridge toward the western end, which was considerably higher. Once on +a bare patch of ground we saw where the grizzly had passed. The big, +round tracks, toeing in a little, made a chill go over me. No doubt of +its being a silvertip! + +We climbed and rode to the high point, and coming out upon the summit +of the mountain we all heard the deep, hoarse baying of the pack. They +were in the canyon down a bare grassy slope and over a wooded bench +at our feet. Teague yelled as he spurred down. R.C. rode hard in his +tracks. + +But my horse was new to this bear chasing. He was mettlesome, and he +did not want to do what I wanted. When I jabbed the spurs into his +flanks he nearly bucked me off. I was looking for a soft place to +light when he quit. Long before I got down that open slope Teague and +R.C. had disappeared. I had to follow their tracks. This I did at a +gallop, but now and then lost the tracks, and had to haul in to find +them. If I could have heard the hounds from there I would have gone on +anyway. But once down in the jack-pines I could hear neither yell or +bay. The pines were small, close together, and tough. I hurt my hands, +scratched my face, barked my knees. The horse had a habit of suddenly +deciding to go the way he liked instead of the way I guided him, and +when he plunged between saplings too close together to permit us both +to go through, it was exceedingly hard on me. I was worked into a +frenzy. Suppose R.C. should come face to face with that old grizzly +and fail to kill him! That was the reason for my desperate hurry. I +got a crack on the head that nearly blinded me. My horse grew hot and +began to run in every little open space. He could scarcely be held in. +And I, with the blood hot in me too, did not hold him hard enough. + +It seemed miles across that wooded bench. But at last I reached +another slope. Coming out upon a canyon rim I heard R.C. and Teague +yelling, and I heard the hounds fighting the grizzly. He was growling +and threshing about far below. I had missed the tracks made by Teague +and my brother, and it was necessary to find them. That slope looked +impassable. I rode back along the rim, then forward. Finally I found +where the ground was plowed deep and here I headed my horse. He had +been used to smooth roads and he could not take these jumps. I went +forward on his neck. But I hung on and spurred him hard. The mad +spirit of that chase had gotten into him too. All the time I could +hear the fierce baying and yelping of the hounds, and occasionally I +heard a savage bawl from the bear. I literally plunged, slid, broke a +way down that mountain slope, riding all the time, before I discovered +the footprints of Teague and R.C. They had walked, leading their +horses. By this time I was so mad I would not get off. I rode all the +way down that steep slope of dense saplings, loose rock slides and +earth, and jumble of splintered cliff. That he did not break my +neck and his own spoke the truth about that roan horse. Despite his +inexperience he was great. We fell over one bank, but a thicket of +aspens saved us from rolling. The avalanches slid from under us until +I imagined that the grizzly would be scared. Once as I stopped to +listen I heard bear and pack farther down the canyon--heard them above +the roar of a rushing stream. They went on and I lost the sounds of +fight. But R.C.'s clear thrilling call floated up to me. Probably he +was worried about me. + +Then before I realized it I was at the foot of the slope, in a narrow +canyon bed, full of rocks and trees, with the din of roaring water in +my ears. I could hear nothing else. Tracks were everywhere, and when I +came to the first open place I was thrilled. The grizzly had plunged +off a sandy bar into the water, and there he had fought the hounds. +Signs of that battle were easy to read. I saw where his huge tracks, +still wet, led up the opposite sandy bank. + +Then, down stream, I did my most reckless riding. On level ground +the horse was splendid. Once he leaped clear across the brook. Every +plunge, every turn I expected to bring me upon my brother and Teague +and that fighting pack. More than once I thought I heard the spang of +the .35 and this made me urge the roan faster and faster. + +The canyon narrowed, the stream-bed deepened. I had to slow down to +get through the trees and rocks. And suddenly I was overjoyed to ride +pell-mell upon R.C. and Teague with half the panting hounds. The +canyon had grown too rough for the horses to go farther and it would +have been useless for us to try on foot. As I dismounted, so sore and +bruised I could hardly stand, old Jim came limping in to fall into the +brook where he lapped and lapped thirstily. Teague threw up his hands. +Old Jim's return meant an ended chase. The grizzly had eluded the +hounds in that jumble of rocks below. + +"Say, did you meet the bear?" queried Teague, eyeing me in +astonishment and mirth. + +Bloody, dirty, ragged and wringing wet with sweat I must have been a +sight. R.C. however, did not look so very immaculate, and when I saw +he also was lame and scratched and black I felt better. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +ROPING LIONS IN THE GRAND CANYON + +I + +The Grand Canyon of Arizona is over two hundred miles long, thirteen +wide, and a mile and a half deep; a titanic gorge in which mountains, +tablelands, chasms and cliffs lie half veiled in purple haze. It is +wild and sublime, a thing of wonder, of mystery; beyond all else a +place to grip the heart of a man, to unleash his daring spirit. + +On April 20th, 1908, after days on the hot desert, my weary party and +pack train reached the summit of Powell's Plateau, the most isolated, +inaccessible and remarkable mesa of any size in all the canyon +country. Cut off from the mainland it appeared insurmountable; +standing aloof from the towers and escarpments, rugged and bold in +outline, its forest covering like a strip of black velvet, its giant +granite walls gold in the sun, it seemed apart from the world, +haunting with its beauty, isolation and wild promise. + +The members of my party harmoniously fitted the scene. Buffalo Jones, +burly-shouldered, bronze-faced, and grim, proved in his appearance +what a lifetime on the plains could make of a man. Emett was a Mormon, +a massively built grey-bearded son of the desert; he had lived his +life on it; he had conquered it and in his falcon eyes shone all its +fire and freedom. Ranger Jim Owens had the wiry, supple body and +careless, tidy garb of the cowboy, and the watchful gaze, quiet face +and locked lips of the frontiersman. The fourth member was a Navajo +Indian, a copper-skinned, raven-haired, beady-eyed desert savage. + +I had told Emett to hire some one who could put the horses on grass in +the evening and then find them the next morning. In northern Arizona +this required more than genius. Emett secured the best trailer of the +desert Navajos. Jones hated an Indian; and Jim, who carried an ounce +of lead somewhere in his person, associated this painful addition to +his weight with an unfriendly Apache, and swore all Indians should +be dead. So between the two, Emett and I had trouble in keeping our +Navajo from illustrating the plainsman idea of a really good Indian--a +dead one. + +While we were pitching camp among magnificent pine trees, and above a +hollow where a heavy bank of snow still lay, a sodden pounding in the +turf attracted our attention. + +"Hold the horses!" yelled Emett. + +As we all made a dive among our snorting and plunging horses the sound +seemed to be coming right into camp. In a moment I saw a string of +wild horses thundering by. A noble black stallion led them, and as he +ran with beautiful stride he curved his fine head backward to look at +us, and whistled his wild challenge. + +Later a herd of large white-tailed deer trooped up the hollow. The +Navajo grew much excited and wanted me to shoot, and when Emett told +him we had not come out to kill, he looked dumbfounded. Even the +Indian felt it a strange departure from the usual mode of hunting to +travel and climb hundreds of miles over hot desert and rock-ribbed +canyons, to camp at last in a spot so wild that deer were tame as +cattle, and then not kill. + +Nothing could have pleased me better, incident to the settling into +permanent camp. The wild horses and tame deer added the all-satisfying +touch to the background of forest, flowers and mighty pines and sunlit +patches of grass, the white tents and red blankets, the sleeping +hounds and blazing fire-logs all making a picture like that of a +hunter's dream. + +"Come, saddle up," called the never restful Jones. "Leave the Indian +in camp with the hounds, and we'll get the lay of the land." All +afternoon we spent riding the plateau. What a wonderful place! We were +completely bewildered with its physical properties, and surprised +at the abundance of wild horses and mustangs, deer, coyotes, foxes, +grouse and other birds, and overjoyed to find innumerable lion trails. +When we returned to camp I drew a rough map, which Jones laid flat on +the ground as he called us around him. + +"Now, boys, let's get our heads together." + +In shape the plateau resembled the ace of clubs. The center and side +wings were high and well wooded with heavy pines; the middle wing +was longest, sloped west, had no pine, but a dense growth of cedar. +Numerous ridges and canyons cut up this central wing. Middle Canyon, +the longest and deepest, bisected the plateau, headed near camp, and +ran parallel with two smaller ones, which we named Right and Left +Canyons. These three were lion runways and hundreds of deer carcasses +lined the thickets. North Hollow was the only depression, as well as +runway, on the northwest rim. West Point formed the extreme western +cape of the plateau. To the left of West Point was a deep cut-in of +the rim wall, called the Bay. The three important canyons opened into +it. From the Bay, the south rim was regular and impassable all the way +round to the narrow Saddle, which connected it to the mainland. + +"Now then," said Jones, when we assured him that we were pretty well +informed as to the important features, "you can readily see our +advantage. The plateau is about nine or ten miles long, and six wide +at its widest. We can't get lost, at least for long. We know where +lions can go over the rim and we'll head them off, make short cut +chases, something new in lion hunting. We are positive the lions can +not get over the second wall, except where we came up, at the Saddle. +In regard to lion signs, I'm doubtful of the evidence of my own eyes. +This is virgin ground. No white man or Indian has ever hunted lions +here. We have stumbled on a lion home, the breeding place of hundreds +of lions that infest the north rim of the canyon." + +The old plainsman struck a big fist into the palm of his hand, a rare +action with him. Jim lifted his broad hat and ran his fingers through +his white hair. In Emett's clear desert-eagle eyes shown a furtive, +anxious look, which yet could not overshadow the smouldering fire. + +"If only we don't kill the horses!" he said. + +More than anything else that remark from such a man thrilled me with +its subtle suggestion. He loved those beautiful horses. What wild +rides he saw in his mind's eye! In cold calculation we perceived the +wonderful possibilities never before experienced by hunters, and as +the wild spell clutched us my last bar of restraint let down. + +During supper we talked incessantly, and afterward around the +camp-fire. Twilight fell with the dark shadows sweeping under the +silent pines; the night wind rose and began its moan. + +"Shore there's some scent on the wind," said Jim, lighting his pipe +with a red ember. "See how uneasy Don is." + +The hound raised his fine, dark head and repeatedly sniffed the air, +then walked to and fro as if on guard for his pack. Moze ground his +teeth on a bone and growled at one of the pups. Sounder was sleepy, +but he watched Don with suspicious eyes. The other hounds, mature and +somber, lay stretched before the fire. + +"Tie them up, Jim," said Jones, "and let's turn in." + + +II + +When I awakened next morning the sound of Emett's axe rang out +sharply. Little streaks of light from the camp-fire played between the +flaps of the tent. I saw old Moze get up and stretch himself. A jangle +of cow-bells from the forest told me we would not have to wait for the +horses that morning. + +"The Injun's all right," Jones remarked to Emett. + +"All rustle for breakfast," called Jim. + +We ate in the semi-darkness with the gray shadow ever brightening. +Dawn broke as we saddled our horses. The pups were limber, and ran +to and fro on their chains, scenting the air; the older hounds stood +quietly waiting. + +"Come Navvy--come chase cougie," said Emett. + +"Dam! No!" replied the Indian. + +"Let him keep camp," suggested Jim. + +"All right; but he'll eat us out," Emett declared. + +"Climb up you fellows," said Jones, impatiently. "Have I got +everything--rope, chains, collars, wire, nippers? Yes, all right. +Hyar, you lazy dogs--out of this!" + +We rode abreast down the ridge. The demeanor of the hounds contrasted +sharply with what it had been at the start of the hunt the year +before. Then they had been eager, uncertain, violent; they did not +know what was in the air; now they filed after Don in an orderly trot. + +We struck out of the pines at half past five. Floating mist hid the +lower end of the plateau. The morning had a cool touch but there was +no frost. Crossing Middle Canyon about half way down we jogged on. +Cedar trees began to show bright green against the soft gray sage. We +were nearing the dark line of the cedar forest when Jim, who led, held +up his hand in a warning check. We closed in around him. + +"Watch Don," he said. + +The hound stood stiff, head well up, nose working, and the hair on his +back bristling. All the other hounds whined and kept close to him. + +"Don scents a lion," whispered Jim. "I've never known him to do that +unless there was the scent of a lion on the wind." + +"Hunt 'em up Don, old boy," called Jones. + +The pack commenced to work back and forth along the ridge. We neared +a hollow when Don barked eagerly. Sounder answered and likewise Jude. +Moze's short angry "bow-wow" showed the old gladiator to be in line. + +"Ranger's gone," cried Jim. "He was farthest ahead. I'll bet he's +struck it. We'll know in a minute, for we're close." + +The hounds were tearing through the sage, working harder and harder, +calling and answering one another, all the time getting down into the +hollow. + +Don suddenly let out a string of yelps. I saw him, running head up, +pass into the cedars like a yellow dart. Sounder howled his deep, full +bay, and led the rest of the pack up the slope in angry clamor. + +"They're off!" yelled Jim, and so were we. + +In less than a minute we had lost one another. Crashings among the dry +cedars, thud of hoofs and yells kept me going in one direction. The +fiery burst of the hounds had surprised me. I remembered that Jim had +said Emett and his charger might keep the pack in sight, but that none +of the rest of us could. + +It did not take me long to realize what my mustang was made of. His +name was Foxie, which suited him well. He carried me at a fast pace on +the trail of some one; and he seemed to know that by keeping in this +trail part of the work of breaking through the brush was already done +for him. Nevertheless, the sharp dead branches, more numerous in a +cedar forest than elsewhere, struck and stung us as we passed. We +climbed a ridge, and found the cedars thinning out into open patches. +Then we faced a bare slope of sage and I saw Emett below on his big +horse. + +Foxie bolted down this slope, hurdling the bunches of sage, and +showing the speed of which Emett had boasted. The open ground, with +its brush, rock and gullies, was easy going for the little mustang. I +heard nothing save the wind singing in my ears. Emett's trail, plain +in the yellow ground showed me the way. On entering the cedars again +I pulled Foxie in and stopped twice to yell "waa-hoo!" I heard the +baying of the hounds, but no answer to my signal. Then I attended to +the stern business of catching up. For what seemed a long time, I +threaded the maze of cedar, galloped the open sage flats, always on +Emett's track. + +A signal cry, sharp to the right, turned me. I answered, and with the +exchange of signal cries found my way into an open glade where Jones +and Jim awaited me. + +"Here's one," said Jim. "Emett must be with the hounds. Listen." + +With the labored breathing of the horses filling our ears we could +hear no other sound. Dismounting, I went aside and turned my ear to +the breeze. + +"I hear Don," I cried instantly. + +"Which way?" both men asked. + +"West." + +"Strange," said Jones. "The hound wouldn't split, would he, Jim?" + +"Don leave that hot trail? Shore he wouldn't," replied Jim. "But his +runnin' do seem queer this morning." + +"The breeze is freshening," I said. "There! Now listen! Don, and +Sounder, too." + +The baying came closer and closer. Our horses threw up long ears. It +was hard to sit still and wait. At a quick cry from Jim we saw Don +cross the lower end of the flat. + +No need to spur our mounts! The lifting of bridles served, and away +we raced. Foxie passed the others in short order. Don had long +disappeared, but with blended bays, Jude, Moze, and Sounder broke out +of the cedars hot on the trail. They, too, were out of sight in a +moment. + +The crash of breaking brush and thunder of hoofs from where the hounds +had come out of the forest, attracted and even frightened me. I saw +the green of a low cedar tree shake, and split, to let out a huge, +gaunt horse with a big man doubled over his saddle. The onslaught +of Emett and his desert charger stirred a fear in me that checked +admiration. + +"Hounds running wild," he yelled, and the dark shadows of the cedars +claimed him again. + +A hundred yards within the forest we came again upon Emett, +dismounted, searching the ground. Moze and Sounder were with him, +apparently at fault. Suddenly Moze left the little glade and venting +his sullen, quick bark, disappeared under the trees. Sounder sat on +his haunches and yelped. + +"Now what the hell is wrong?" growled Jones tumbling off his saddle. + +"Shore something is," said Jim, also dismounting. + +"Here's a lion track," interposed Emett. + +"Ha! and here's another," cried Jones, in great satisfaction. "That's +the trail we were on, and here's another crossing it at right angles. +Both are fresh: one isn't fifteen minutes old. Don and Jude have split +one way and Moze another. By George! that's great of Sounder to hang +fire!" + +"Put him on the fresh trail," said Jim, vaulting into his saddle. + +Jones complied, with the result that we saw Sounder start off on the +trail Moze had taken. All of us got in some pretty hard riding, and +managed to stay within earshot of Sounder. We crossed a canyon, and +presently reached another which, from its depth, must have been Middle +Canyon. Sounder did not climb the opposite slope, so we followed the +rim. From a bare ridge we distinguished the line of pines above us, +and decided that our location was in about the center of the plateau. + +Very little time elapsed before we heard Moze. Sounder had caught up +with him. We came to a halt where the canyon widened and was not so +deep, with cliffs and cedars opposite us, and an easy slope leading +down. Sounder bayed incessantly; Moze emitted harsh, eager howls, and +both hounds, in plain sight, began working in circles. + +"The lion has gone up somewhere," cried Jim. "Look sharp!" + +Repeatedly Moze worked to the edge of a low wall of stone and looked +over; then he barked and ran back to the slope, only to return. When +I saw him slide down a steep place, make for the bottom of the stone +wall, and jump into the low branches of a cedar I knew where to look. +Then I descried the lion a round yellow ball, cunningly curled up in a +mass of dark branches. He had leaped into the tree from the wall. + +"There he is! Treed! Treed!" I yelled. "Moze has found him." + +"Down boys, down into the canyon," shouted Jones, in sharp voice. +"Make a racket, we don't want him to jump." + +How he and Jim and Emett rolled and cracked the stone! For a moment I +could not get off my horse; I was chained to my saddle by a strange +vacillation that could have been no other thing than fear. + +"Are you afraid?" called Jones from below. + +"Yes, but I am coming," I replied, and dismounted to plunge down the +hill. It may have been shame or anger that dominated me then; whatever +it was I made directly for the cedar, and did not halt until I was +under the snarling lion. + +"Not too close!" warned Jones. "He might jump. It's a Tom, a +two-year-old, and full of fight." + +It did not matter to me then whether he jumped or not. I knew I had to +be cured of my dread, and the sooner it was done the better. + +Old Moze had already climbed a third of the distance up to the lion. + +"Hyar Moze! Out of there, you rascal coon chaser!" Jones yelled as he +threw stones and sticks at the hound. Moze, however, replied with his +snarly bark and climbed on steadily. + +"I've got to pull him out. Watch close boys and tell me if the lion +starts down." + +When Jones climbed the first few branches of the tree, Tom let out an +ominous growl. + +"Make ready to jump. Shore he's comin'," called Jim. + +The lion, snarling viciously, started to descend. It was a ticklish +moment for all of us, particularly Jones. Warily he backed down. + +"Boys, maybe he's bluffing," said Jones, "Try him out. Grab sticks and +run at the tree and yell, as if you were going to kill him." + +Not improbably the demonstration we executed under the tree would +have frightened even an African lion. Tom hesitated, showed his white +fangs, returned to his first perch, and from there climbed as far as +he could. The forked branch on which he stood swayed alarmingly. + +"Here, punch Moze out," said Jim handing up a long pole. + +The old hound hung like a leech to the tree, making it difficult to +dislodge him. At length he fell heavily, and venting his thick battle +cry, attempted to climb again. + +Jim seized him, made him fast to the rope with which Sounder had +already been tied. + +"Say Emett, I've no chance here," called Jones. "You try to throw at +him from the rock." + +Emett ran up the rock, coiled his lasso and cast the noose. It sailed +perfectly in between the branches and circled Tom's head. Before it +could be slipped tight he had thrown it off. Then he hid behind the +branches. + +"I'm going farther up," said Jones. + +"Be quick," yelled Jim. + +Jones evidently had that in mind. When he reached the middle fork of +the cedar, he stood erect and extended the noose of his lasso on the +point of his pole. Tom, with a hiss and snap, struck at it savagely. +The second trial tempted the lion to saw the rope with his teeth. In +a flash Jones withdrew the pole, and lifted a loop of the slack rope +over the lion's ears. + +"Pull!" he yelled. + +Emett, at the other end of the lasso, threw his great strength into +action, pulling the lion out with a crash, and giving the cedar such a +tremendous shaking that Jones lost his footing and fell heavily. + +Thrilling as the moment was, I had to laugh, for Jones came up out of +a cloud of dust, as angry as a wet hornet, and made prodigious leaps +to get out of the reach of the whirling lion. + +"Look out!" he bawled. + +Tom, certainly none the worse for his tumble, made three leaps, two at +Jones, one at Jim, which was checked by the short length of the rope +in Emett's hands. Then for a moment, a thick cloud of dust enveloped +the wrestling lion, during which the quick-witted Jones tied the free +end of the lasso to a sapling. + +"Dod gast the luck!" yelled Jones reaching for another lasso. "I +didn't mean for you to pull him out of the tree. Now he'll get loose +or kill himself." + +When the dust cleared away, we discovered our prize stretched out at +full length and frothing at the mouth. As Jones approached, the lion +began a series of evolutions so rapid as to be almost indiscernible to +the eye. I saw a wheel of dust and yellow fur. Then came a thud and +the lion lay inert. + +Jones pounced upon him and loosed the lasso around his neck. + +"I think he's done for, but maybe not. He's breathing yet. Here, help +me tie his paws together. Look out! He's coming to!" + +The lion stirred and raised his head. Jones ran the loop of the second +lasso around the two hind paws and stretched the lion out. While in +this helpless position and with no strength and hardly any breath left +in him the lion was easy to handle. With Emett's help Jones quickly +clipped the sharp claws, tied the four paws together, took off the +neck lasso and substituted a collar and chain. + +"There, that's one. He'll come to all right," said Jones. "But we are +lucky. Emett, never pull another lion clear out of a tree. Pull him over +a limb and hang him there while some one below ropes his hind paws. +That's the only way, and if we don't stick to it, somebody is going to +get done for. Come, now, we'll leave this fellow here and hunt up Don +and Jude. They've treed another lion by this time." + +Remarkable to me was to see how, as soon as the lion lay helpless, +Sounder lost his interest. Moze growled, yet readily left the spot. +Before we reached the level, both hounds had disappeared. + +[Illustration: DOWN THE SHINUMO TRAIL OF THE NORTH RIVER] + +[Illustration: CAMP AT THE SADDLE] + +"Hear that?" yelled Jones, digging spurs into his horse. "Hi! Hi! Hi!" + +From the cedars rang the thrilling, blending chorus of bays that told +of a treed lion. The forest was almost impenetrable. We had to pick +our way. Emett forged ahead; we heard him smashing the deadwood; and +soon a yell proclaimed the truth of Jones' assertion. + +First I saw the men looking upward; then Moze climbing the cedar, and +the other hounds with noses skyward; and last, in the dead top of the +tree, a dark blot against the blue, a big tawny lion. + +"Whoop!" The yell leaped past my lips. Quiet Jim was yelling; and +Emett, silent man of the desert, let from his wide cavernous chest a +booming roar that drowned ours. + +Jones' next decisive action turned us from exultation to the grim +business of the thing. He pulled Moze out of the cedar, and while he +climbed up, Emett ran his rope under the collars of all of the hounds. +Quick as the idea flashed over me I leaped into the cedar adjoining +the one Jones was in, and went up hand over hand. A few pulls brought +me to the top, and then my blood ran hot and quick, for I was level +with the lion, too close for comfort, but in excellent position for +taking pictures. + +The lion, not heeding me, peered down at Jones, between widespread +paws. I could hear nothing except the hounds. Jones' gray hat came +pushing up between the dead snags; then his burly shoulders. The +quivering muscles of the lion gathered tense, and his lithe body +crouched low on the branches. He was about to jump. His open dripping +jaws, his wild eyes, roving in terror for some means of escape, his +tufted tail, swinging against the twigs and breaking them, manifested +his extremity. The eager hounds waited below, howling, leaping. + +It bothered me considerably to keep my balance, regulate my camera +and watch the proceedings. Jones climbed on with his rope between his +teeth, and a long stick. The very next instant it seemed to me, I +heard the cracking of branches and saw the lion biting hard at the +noose which circled his neck. + +Here I swung down, branch to branch, and dropped to the ground, for +I wanted to see what went on below. Above the howls and yelps, I +distinguished Jones' yell. Emett ran directly under the lion with a +spread noose in his hands. Jones pulled and pulled, but the lion held +on firmly. Throwing the end of the lasso down to Jim, Jones yelled +again, and then they both pulled. The lion was too strong. Suddenly, +however, the branch broke, letting the lion fall, kicking frantically +with all four paws. Emett grasped one of the four whipping paws, and +even as the powerful animal sent him staggering he dexterously left +the noose fast on the paw. Jim and Jones in unison let go of their +lasso, which streaked up through the branches as the lion fell, and +then it dropped to the ground, where Jim made a flying grab for it. +Jones plunging out of the tree fell upon the rope at the same instant. + +If the action up to then had been fast, it was slow to what followed. +It seemed impossible for two strong men with one lasso, and a giant +with another, to straighten out that lion. He was all over the little +space under the trees at once. The dust flew, the sticks snapped, +the gravel pattered like shot against the cedars. Jones ploughed the +ground flat on his stomach, holding on with one hand, with the other +trying to fasten the rope to something; Jim went to his knees; and on +the other side of the lion, Emett's huge bulk tipped a sharp angle, +and then fell. + +I shouted and ran forward, having no idea what to do, but Emett rolled +backward, at the same instant the other men got a strong haul on +the lion. Short as that moment was in which the lasso slackened, it +sufficed for Jones to make the rope fast to a tree. Whereupon with the +three men pulling on the other side of the leaping lion, somehow I had +flashed into my mind the game that children play, called skipping the +rope, for the lion and lasso shot up and down. + +This lasted for only a few seconds. They stretched the beast from tree +to tree, and Jones running with the third lasso, made fast the front +paws. + +"It's a female," said Jones, as the lion lay helpless, her sides +swelling; "a good-sized female. She's nearly eight feet from tip to +tip, but not very heavy. Hand me another rope." + +When all four lassos had been stretched, the lioness could not move. +Jones strapped a collar around her neck and clipped the sharp yellow +claws. + +"Now to muzzle her," he continued. + +Jones' method of performing this most hazardous part of the work was +characteristic of him. He thrust a stick between her open jaws, and +when she crushed it to splinters he tried another, and yet another, +until he found one that she could not break. Then while she bit on it, +he placed a wire loop over her nose, slowly tightening it, leaving the +stick back of her big canines. + +The hounds ceased their yelping and when untied, Sounder wagged his +tail as if to say, "Well done," and then lay down; Don walked within +three feet of the lion, as if she were now beneath his dignity; Jude +began to nurse and lick her sore paw; only Moze the incorrigible +retained antipathy for the captive, and he growled, as always, low and +deep. And on the moment, Ranger, dusty and lame from travel, trotted +wearily into the glade and, looking at the lioness, gave one disgusted +bark and flopped down. + + +III + +Transporting our captives to camp bade fair to make us work. When +Jones, who had gone after the pack horses, hove in sight on the sage +flat, it was plain to us that we were in for trouble. The bay stallion +was on the rampage. + +"Why didn't you fetch the Indian?" growled Emett, who lost his temper +when matters concerning his horses went wrong. "Spread out, boys, and +head him off." + +We contrived to surround the stallion, and Emett succeeded in getting +a halter on him. + +"I didn't want the bay," explained Jones, "but I couldn't drive the +others without him. When I told that redskin that we had two lions, he +ran off into the woods, so I had to come alone." + +"I'm going to scalp the Navajo," said Jim, complacently. + +These remarks were exchanged on the open ridge at the entrance to the +thick cedar forest. The two lions lay just within its shady precincts. +Emett and I, using a long pole in lieu of a horse, had carried Tom up +from the Canyon to where we had captured the lioness. + +Jones had brought a packsaddle and two panniers. + +[Illustration: BUCKSKIN FOREST] + +[Illustration: BUFFALO JONES WITH SOUNDER AND RANGER] + +When Emett essayed to lead the horse which carried these, the animal +stood straight up and began to show some of his primal desert +instincts. It certainly was good luck that we unbuckled the packsaddle +straps before he left the vicinity. In about three jumps he had +separated himself from the panniers, which were then placed upon the +back of another horse. This one, a fine looking beast, and amiable +under surroundings where his life and health were considered even a +little, immediately disclaimed any intention of entering the forest. + +"They scent the lions," said Jones. "I was afraid of it; never had but +one nag that would pack lions." + +"Maybe we can't pack them at all," replied Emett dubiously. "It's +certainly new to me." + +"We've got to," Jones asserted; "try the sorrel." + +For the first time in a serviceable and honorable life, according to +Emett, the sorrel broke his halter and kicked like a plantation mule. + +"It's a matter of fright. Try the stallion. He doesn't look afraid," +said Jones, who never knew when he was beaten. + +Emett gazed at Jones as if he had not heard right. + +"Go ahead, try the stallion. I like the way he looks." + +No wonder! The big stallion looked a king of horses--just what he +would have been if Emett had not taken him, when a colt, from his wild +desert brothers. He scented the lions, and he held his proud head up, +his ears erect, and his large, dark eyes shone fiery and expressive. + +"I'll try to lead him in and let him see the lions. We can't fool +him," said Emett. + +Marc showed no hesitation, nor anything we expected. He stood +stiff-legged, and looked as if he wanted to fight. + +"He's all right; he'll pack them," declared Jones. + +The packsaddle being strapped on and the panniers hooked to the horns, +Jones and Jim lifted Tom and shoved him down into the left pannier +while Emett held the horse. A madder lion than Tom never lived. It was +cruel enough to be lassoed and disgrace enough to be "hog-tied," as +Jim called it, but to be thrust down into a bag and packed on a horse +was adding insult to injury. Tom frothed at the mouth and seemed like +a fizzing torpedo about to explode. The lioness being considerably +longer and larger, was with difficulty gotten into the other pannier, +and her head and paws hung out. Both lions kept growling and snarling. + +"I look to see Marc bolt over the rim," said Emett, resignedly, as +Jones took up the end of the rope halter. + +"No siree!" sang out that worthy. "He's helping us out; he's proud to +show up the other nags." + +Jones was always asserting strange traits in animals, and giving them +intelligence and reason. As to that, many incidents coming under my +observation while with him, and seen with his eyes, made me incline to +his claims, the fruit of a lifetime with animals. + +Marc packed the lions to camp in short order, and, quoting Jones, +"without turning a hair." We saw the Navajo's head protruding from a +tree. Emett yelled for him, and Jones and Jim "hahaed" derisively; +whereupon the black head vanished and did not reappear. Then they +unhooked one of the panniers and dumped out the lioness. Jones +fastened her chain to a small pine tree, and as she lay powerless he +pulled out the stick back of her canines. This allowed the wire muzzle +to fall off. She signalled this freedom with a roar that showed her +health to be still unimpaired. The last action in releasing her from +her painful bonds Jones performed with sleight-of-hand dexterity. He +slipped the loop fastening one paw, which loosened the rope, and in a +twinkling let her work all of her other paws free. Up she sprang, ears +flat, eyes ablaze, mouth wide, once more capable of defense, true to +her instinct and her name. + +Before the men lowered Tom from Marc's back I stepped closer and put +my face within six inches of the lion's. He promptly spat on me. I had +to steel my nerve to keep so close. But I wanted to see a wild lion's +eyes at close range. They were exquisitely beautiful, their physical +properties as wonderful as their expression. Great half globes of +tawny amber, streaked with delicate wavy lines of black, surrounding +pupils of intense purple fire. Pictures shone and faded in the amber +light--the shaggy tipped plateau, the dark pines and smoky canyons, +the great dotted downward slopes, the yellow cliffs and crags. Deep in +those live pupils, changing, quickening with a thousand vibrations, +quivered the soul of this savage beast, the wildest of all wild +Nature, unquenchable love of life and freedom, flame of defiance and +hate. + +Jones disposed of Tom in the same manner as he had the lioness, +chaining him to an adjoining small pine, where he leaped and wrestled. + +Presently I saw Emett coming through the woods leading and dragging +the Indian. I felt sorry for the Navvy, for I felt that his fear was +not so much physical as spiritual. And it seemed no wonder to me that +the Navvy should hang back from this sacrilegious treatment of his +god. A natural wisdom, which I had in common with all human beings who +consider self preservation the first law of life, deterred me from +acquainting my august companions with my belief. At least I did not +want to break up the camp. + +In the remorseless grasp of Emett, forced along, the Navajo dragged +his feet and held his face sidewise, though his dark eyes gleamed +at the lions. Terror predominated among the expressions of his +countenance. Emett drew him within fifteen feet and held him there, +and with voice, and gesticulating of his free hand, tried to show the +poor fellow that the lions would not hurt him. + +Navvy stared and muttered to himself. Here Jim had some deviltry in +mind, for he edged up closer; but what it was never transpired, for +Emett suddenly pointed to the horses and said to the Indian: + +"_Chineago_ (feed)." + +It appeared when Navvy swung himself over Marc's broad back, that our +great stallion had laid aside his transiently noble disposition and +was himself again. Marc proceeded to show us how truly Jim had spoken: +"Shore he ain't no use for the redskin." Before the Indian had fairly +gotten astride, Marc dropped his head, humped his shoulders, brought +his feet together and began to buck. Now the Navajo was a famous +breaker of wild mustangs, but Marc was a tougher proposition than the +wildest mustang that ever romped the desert. Not only was he unusually +vigorous; he was robust and heavy, yet exceedingly active. I had seen +him roll over in the dust three times each way, and do it easily--a +feat Emett declared he had never seen performed by another horse. + +Navvy began to bounce. He showed his teeth and twisted his sinewy +hands in the horse's mane. Marc began to act like a demon; he plowed +the ground; apparently he bucked five feet straight up. As the Indian +had bounced he now began to shoot into the air. He rose the last time +with his heels over his head, to the full extent of his arms; and on +plunging down his hold broke. He spun around the horse, then went +hurtling to the ground some twenty feet away. He sat up, and seeing +Emett and Jones laughing, and Jim prostrated with joy, he showed his +white teeth in a smile and said: + +"No bueno dam." + +I think all of us respected Navvy for his good humor, and especially +when he walked up to Marc, and with no show of the mean Indian, +patted the glossy neck and then nimbly remounted. Marc, not being so +difficult to please as Jim in the way of discomfiting the Navajo, +appeared satisfied for the present, and trotted off down the hollow, +with the string of horses ahead, their bells jingling. + +Camp-fire tasks were a necessary wage in order to earn the full +enjoyment and benefit of the hunting trip; and looking for some task +with which to turn my hand, I helped Jim feed the hounds. To feed +ordinary dogs is a matter of throwing them a bone; however, our dogs +were not ordinary. It took time to feed them, and a prodigious amount +of meat. We had packed between three and four hundred pounds of +wild-horse meat, which had been cut into small pieces and strung on +the branches of a scrub oak near camp. + +Don, as befitted a gentleman and the leader of the greatest pack in +the West, had to be fed by hand. I believe he would rather had starved +than have demeaned himself by fighting. Starved he certainly would +have, if Jim had thrown meat indiscriminately to the ground. Sounder +asserted his rights and preferred large portions at a time. Jude +begged with great solemn eyes but was no slouch at eating for all her +gentleness. Ranger, because of imperfectly developed teeth rendering +mastication difficult, had to have his share cut into very small +pieces. As for Moze--well, great dogs have their faults as do great +men--he never got enough meat; he would fight even poor crippled Jude, +and steal even from the pups; when he had gotten all Jim would give +him, and all he could snatch, he would growl away with bulging sides. + +"How about feeding the lions?" asked Emett. + +"They'll drink to-night," replied Jones, "but won't eat for days; then +we'll tempt them with fresh rabbits." + +We made a hearty meal, succeeding which Jones and I walked through +the woods toward the rim. A yellow promontory, huge and glistening, +invited us westward, and after a detour of half a mile we reached it. +The points of the rim, striking out into the immense void, always drew +me irresistibly. We found the view from this rock one of startling +splendor. The corrugated rim-wall of the middle wing extended to the +west, at this moment apparently running into the setting sun. The gold +glare touching up the millions of facets of chiseled stone, created +color and brilliance too glorious and intense for the gaze of men. And +looking downward was like looking into the placid, blue, bottomless +depths of the Pacific. + +"Here, help me push off this stone," I said to Jones. We heaved a huge +round stone, and were encouraged to feel it move. Fortunately we had a +little slope; the boulder groaned, rocked and began to slide. Just as +it toppled over I glanced at the second hand of my watch. Then with +eyes over the rim we waited. The silence was the silence of the +canyon, dead and vast, intensified by our breathless earstrain. Ten +long palpitating seconds and no sound! I gave up. The distance was too +great for sound to reach us. Fifteen seconds--seventeen--eighteen-- + +With that a puff of air seemed to rise, and on it the most awful +bellow of thunderous roar. It rolled up and widened, deadened to burst +out and roll louder, then slowly, like mountains on wheels, rumbled +under the rim-walls, passing on and on, to roar back in echo from the +cliffs of the mesas. Roar and rumble--roar and rumble! for two long +moments the dull and hollow echoes rolled at us, to die away slowly in +the far-distant canyons. + +"That's a darned deep hole," commented Jones. + +Twilight stole down on us idling there, silent, content to watch the +red glow pass away from the buttes and peaks, the color deepening +downward to meet the ebon shades of night creeping up like a dark +tide. + +On turning toward the camp we essayed a short cut, which brought us to +a deep hollow with stony walls, which seemed better to go around. The +hollow, however, was quite long and we decided presently to cross it. +We descended a little way when Jones suddenly barred my progress with +his big arm. + +"Listen," he whispered. + +It was quiet in the woods; only a faint breeze stirred the pine +needles; and the weird, gray darkness seemed to be approaching under +the trees. + +I heard the patter of light, hard hoofs on the scaly sides of the +hollow. + +"Deer?" I asked my companion in a low voice. + +"Yes; see," he replied, pointing ahead, "just right under that broken +wall of rock; right there on this side; they're going down." + +I descried gray objects the color of the rocks, moving down like +shadows. + +"Have they scented us?" + +"Hardly; the breeze is against us. Maybe they heard us break a twig. +They've stopped, but they are not looking our way. Now I wonder--" + +Rattling of stones set into movement by some quick, sharp action, an +indistinct crash, but sudden, as of the impact of soft, heavy bodies, +a strange wild sound preceded in rapid succession violent brushings +and thumpings in the scrub of the hollow. + +"Lion jumped a deer," yelled Jones. "Right under our eyes! Come on! +Hi! Hi! Hi!" + +He ran down the incline yelling all of the way, and I kept close to +him, adding my yells to his, and gripping my revolver. Toward the +bottom the thicket barred our progress so that we had to smash through +and I came out a little ahead of Jones. And farther up the hollow I +saw a gray swiftly bounding object too long and too low for a deer, +and I hurriedly shot six times at it. + +"By George! Come here," called my companion. "How's this for quick +work? It's a yearling doe." + +In another moment I leaned over a gray mass huddled at Jones feet. It +was a deer gasping and choking. I plainly heard the wheeze of blood +in its throat, and the sound, like a death-rattle, affected me +powerfully. Bending closer, I saw where one side of the neck, low +down, had been terribly lacerated. + +"Waa-hoo!" pealed down the slope. + +"That's Emett," cried Jones, answering the signal. "If you have +another shot put this doe out of agony." + +But I had not a shot left, nor did either of us have a clasp knife. +We stood there while the doe gasped and quivered. The peculiar sound, +probably made by the intake of air through the laceration of the +throat, on the spur of the moment seemed pitifully human. + +I felt that the struggle for life and death in any living thing was +a horrible spectacle. With great interest I had studied natural +selection, the variability of animals under different conditions of +struggling existence, the law whereby one animal struck down and +devoured another. But I had never seen and heard that law enacted on +such a scale; and suddenly I abhorred it. + +Emett strode to us through the gathering darkness. + +"What's up?" he asked quickly. + +He carried my Remington in one hand and his Winchester in the other; +and he moved so assuredly and loomed up so big in the dusk that I +experienced a sudden little rush of feeling as to what his advent +might mean at a time of real peril. + +[Illustration: JONES ABOUT TO LASSO A MOUNTAIN LION] + +[Illustration: REMAINS OF A DEER KILLED BY LIONS] + +"Emett, I've lived to see many things," replied Jones, "but this is +the first time I ever saw a lion jump a deer right under my nose!" + +As Emett bent over to seize the long ears of the deer, I noticed the +gasping had ceased. + +"Neck broken," he said, lifting the head. "Well, I'm danged. Must have +been an all-fired strong lion. He'll come back, you may be sure of +that. Let's skin out the quarters and hang the carcass up in a tree!" + +We returned to camp in a half an hour, the richer for our walk by a +quantity of fresh venison. Upon being acquainted with our adventure, +Jim expressed himself rather more fairly than was his customary way. + +"Shore that beats hell! I knowed there was a lion somewheres, because +Don wouldn't lie down. I'd like to get a pop at the brute." + +I believed Jim's wish found an echo in all our hearts. At any rate +to hear Emett and Jones express regret over the death of the doe +justified in some degree my own feelings, and I thought it was not +so much the death, but the lingering and terrible manner of it, and +especially how vividly it connoted the wild-life drama of the plateau. +The tragedy we had all but interrupted occurred every night, perhaps +often in the day and likely at different points at the same time. +Emett told how he had found fourteen piles of bleached bones and dried +hair in the thickets of less than a mile of the hollow on which we +were encamped. + +"We'll rope the danged cats, boys, or we'll kill them." + +"It's blowing cold. Hey, Navvy, _coco! coco!_" called Emett. + +The Indian, carefully laying aside his cigarette, kicked up the fire +and threw on more wood. + +"_Discass!_ (cold)," he said to me. "_Coco, bueno_ (fire good)." + +I replied, "Me savvy--yes." + +"Sleep-ie?" he asked. + +"Mucha," I returned. + +While we carried on a sort of novel conversation full of Navajo, +English, and gestures, darkness settled down black. I saw the stars +disappear; the wind changing to the north grew colder and carried +a breath of snow. I like north wind best--from under the warm +blankets--because of the roar and lull and lull and roar in the pines. +Crawling into the bed presently, I lay there and listened to the +rising storm-wind for a long time. Sometimes it swelled and crashed +like the sound of a breaker on the beach, but mostly, from a low +incessant moan, it rose and filled to a mighty rush, then suddenly +lulled. This lull, despite a wakeful, thronging mind, was conducive to +sleep. + + +IV + +To be awaked from pleasant dreams is the lot of man. The Navajo +aroused me with his singing, and when I peeped languidly from under +the flap of my sleeping bag, I felt a cold air and saw fleecy flakes +of white drifting through the small window of my tent. + +"Snow; by all that's lucky!" I exclaimed, remembering Jones' hopes. +Straightway my langour vanished and getting into my boots and coat I +went outside. Navvy's bed lay in six inches of snow. The forest was +beautifully white. A fine dazzling snow was falling. I walked to the +roaring camp-fire. Jim's biscuits, well-browned and of generous +size, had just been dumped into the middle of our breakfast cloth, a +tarpaulin spread on the ground; the coffee pot steamed fragrantly, and +a Dutch oven sizzled with a great number of slices of venison. "Did +you hear the Indian chanting?" asked Jones, who sat with his horny +hands to the blaze. + +"I heard his singing." + +"No, it wasn't a song; the Navajo never sings in the morning. What you +heard was his morning prayer, a chant, a religious and solemn ritual +to the break of day. Emett says it is a custom of the desert tribe. +You remember how we saw the Mokis sitting on the roofs of their little +adobe huts in the gray of the morning. They always greet the sun in +that way. The Navajos chant." + +It certainly was worth remembering, I thought, and mentally observed +that I would wake up thereafter and listen to the Indian. + +"Good luck and bad!" went on Jones. "Snow is what we want, but now we +can't find the scent of our lion of last night." + +Low growls and snarls attracted me. Both our captives presented sorry +spectacles; they were wet, dirty, bedraggled. Emett had chopped down a +small pine, the branches of which he was using to make shelter for the +lions. While I looked on Tom tore his to pieces several times, but the +lioness crawled under hers and began licking her chops. At length +Tom, seeing that Emett meant no underhand trick, backed out of the +drizzling snow and lay down. + +Emett had already constructed a shack for the hounds. It was a way of +his to think of everything. He had the most extraordinary ability. A +stroke of his axe, a twist of his great hands, a turn of this or that +made camp a more comfortable place. And if something, no matter what, +got out of order or broken, there was Emett to show what it was to be +a man of the desert. It had been my good fortune to see many able +men on the trail and round the camp-fire, but not one of them even +approached Emett's class. When I said a word to him about his knack +with things, his reply was illuminating: "I'm fifty-eight, and four +out of every five nights of my life I have slept away from home on the +ground." + +"_Chineago!_" called Jim, who had begun with all of us to assimilate a +little of the Navajo's language. + +Whereupon we fell to eating with appetite unknown to any save hunters. +Somehow the Indian had gravitated to me at meal times, and now he sat +cross-legged beside me, holding out his plate and looking as hungry as +Moze. At first he had always asked for the same kind of food that +I happened to have on my own plate. When I had finished and had no +desire to eat more, he gave up his faculty of imitation and asked for +anything he could get. The Navajo had a marvelous appetite. He liked +sweet things, sugar best of all. It was a fatal error to let him get +his hands on a can of fruit. Although he inspired Jones with disgust +and Jim with worse, he was a source of unfailing pleasure to me. He +called me "Mista Gay" and he pronounced the words haltingly in low +voice and with unmistakable respect. + +"What's on for today?" queried Emett. + +"I guess we may as well hang around camp and rest the hounds," replied +Jones. "I did intend to go after the lion that killed the deer, but +this snow has taken away the scent." + +"Shore it'll stop snowin' soon," said Jim. + +The falling snow had thinned out and looked like flying powder; the +leaden clouds, rolling close to the tree-tops, grew brighter and +brighter; bits of azure sky shone through rifts. + +Navvy had tramped off to find the horses, and not long after his +departure he sent out a prolonged yell that echoed through the forest. + +"Something's up," said Emett instantly. "An Indian never yells like +that at a horse." + +[Illustration: A LION TIED] + +[Illustration: FIGHTING WEETAHS (BUFFALO BULLS) ON BUFFALO JONES'S +DESERT RANCH] + +We waited quietly for a moment, expecting to hear the yell repeated. +It was not, though we soon heard the jangle of bells, which told us he +had the horses coming. He appeared off to the right, riding Foxie and +racing the others toward camp. + +"Cougie--mucha big--dam!" he said leaping off the mustang to confront +us. + +"Emett, does he mean he saw a cougar or a track?" questioned Jones. + +"Me savvy," replied the Indian. "_Butteen, butteen_!" + +"He says, trail--trail," put in Emett. "I guess I'd better go and +see." + +"I'll go with you," said Jones. "Jim, keep the hounds tight and hurry +with the horses' oats." + +We followed the tracks of the horses which lead southwest toward the +rim, and a quarter of a mile from camp we crossed a lion trail running +at right angles with our direction. + +"Old Sultan!" I cried, breathlessly, recognizing that the tracks had +been made by a giant lion we had named Sultan. They were huge, round, +and deep, and with my spread hand I could not reach across one of +them. + +Without a word, Jones strode off on the trail. It headed east and +after a short distance turned toward camp. I suppose Jones knew what +the lion had been about, but to Emett and me it was mystifying. Two +hundred yards from camp we came to a fallen pine, the body of which +was easily six feet high. On the side of this log, almost on top, were +two enormous lion tracks, imprinted in the mantle of snow. From here +the trail led off northeast. + +"Darn me!" ejaculated Jones. "The big critter came right into camp; he +scented our lions, and raised up on this log to look over." + +Wheeling, he started for camp on the trot. Emett and I kept even +with him. Words were superfluous. We knew what was coming. A +made--to--order lion trail could not have equalled the one right in +the back yard of our camp. + +"Saddle up!" said Jones, with the sharp inflection of words that had +come to thrill me. "Jim, Old Sultan has taken a look at us since break +of day." + +I got into my chaps, rammed my little automatic into its saddle +holster and mounted. Foxie seemed to want to go. The hounds came out +of their sheds and yawned, looking at us knowingly. Emett spoke a word +to the Navajo, and then we were trotting down through the forest. The +sun had broken out warm, causing water to drip off the snow laden +pines. The three of us rode close behind Jones, who spoke low and +sternly to the hounds. + +What an opportunity to watch Don! I wondered how soon he would catch +the scent of the trail. He led the pack as usual and kept to a +leisurely dog--trot. When within twenty yards of the fallen log, he +stopped for an instant and held up his head, though without exhibiting +any suspicion or uneasiness. + +The wind blew strong at our backs, a circumstance that probably +kept Don so long in ignorance of the trail. A few yards further on, +however, he stopped and raised his fine head. He lowered it and +trotted on only to stop again. His easy air of satisfaction with +the morning suddenly vanished. His savage hunting instinct awakened +through some channel to raise the short yellow hair on his neck and +shoulders and make it stand stiff. He stood undecided with warily +shifting nose, then jumped forward with a yelp. Another jump brought +another sharp cry from him. Sounder, close behind, echoed the yelp. +Jude began to whine. Then Don, with a wild howl, leaped ten feet to +alight on the lion trail and to break into wonderfully rapid flight. +The seven other hounds, bunched in a black and yellow group, tore +after him filling the forest with their wild uproar. + +Emett's horse bounded as I have seen a great racer leave the post, and +his desert brothers, loving wild bursts of speed, needing no spur, +kept their noses even with his flanks. The soft snow, not too deep, +rather facilitated than impeded this wild movement, and the open +forest was like a highway. + +So we rode, bending low in the saddle, keen eyes alert for branches, +vaulting the white--blanketed logs, and swerving as we split to pass +the pines. The mist from the melting snow moistened our faces, and the +rushing air cooled them with fresh, soft sensation. There were moments +when we rode abreast and others when we sailed single file, with white +ground receding, vanishing behind us. + +My feeling was one of glorious excitation in the swift, smooth flight +and a grim assurance of soon seeing the old lion. But I hoped we would +not rout him too soon from under a windfall, or a thicket where he +had dragged a deer, because the race was too splendid a thing to cut +short. Through my mind whirled with inconceivable rapidity the great +lion chases on which we had ridden the year before. And this was +another chase, only more stirring, more beautiful, because it was the +nature of the thing to grow always with experience. + +Don slipped out of sight among the pines. The others strung along the +trail, glinted across the sunlit patches. The black pup was neck and +neck with Ranger. Sounder ran at their heels, leading the other pups. +Moze dashed on doggedly ahead of Jude. + +But for us to keep to the open forest, close to the hounds, was not in +the nature of a lion chase. Old Sultan's trail turned due west when he +began to go down the little hollows and their intervening ridges. We +lost ground. The pack left us behind. The slope of the plateau became +decided. We rode out of the pines to find the snow failing in the +open. Water ran in little gullies and glistened on the sagebrush. A +half mile further down the snow had gone. We came upon the hounds +running at fault, except Sounder, and he had given up. + +"All over," sang out Jones, turning his horse. "The lion's track and +his scent have gone with the snow. I reckon we'll do as well to wait +until to-morrow. He's down in the middle wing somewhere and it is my +idea we might catch his trail as he comes back." + +The sudden dashing aside of our hopes was exasperating. There seemed +no help for it; abrupt ending to exciting chases were but features of +the lion hunt. The warm sun had been hours on the lower end of the +plateau, where the snow never lay long; and even if we found a fresh +morning trail in the sand, the heat would have burned out the scent. + +So rapidly did the snow thaw that by the time we reached camp only the +shady patches were left. + +It was almost eleven o'clock when I lay down on my bed to rest awhile +and fell asleep. The tramp of a horse awakened me. I heard Jim calling +Jones. Thinking it was time to eat I went out. The snow had all +disappeared and the forest was brown as ever. Jim sat on his horse and +Navvy appeared riding up to the hollow, leading the saddle horses. + +"Jones, get out," called Jim. + +"Can't you let a fellow sleep? I'm not hungry," replied Jones testily. + +"Get out and saddle up," continued Jim. + +Jones burst out of his tent, with rumpled hair and sleepy eyes. + +"I went over to see the carcass of the deer an' found a lion sittin' +up in the tree, feedin' for all he was worth. Pie jumped out an' ran +up the hollow an' over the rim. So I rustled back for you fellows. +Lively now, we'll get this one sure." + +"Was it the big fellow?" I asked + +"No, but he ain't no kitten; an' he's a fine color, sort of reddish. I +never seen one just as bright. Where's Emett?" + +"I don't know. He was here a little while ago. Shall I signal for +him?" + +"Don't yell," cried Jones holding up his fingers. "Be quiet now." + +Without another word we finished saddling, mounted and, close +together, with the hounds in front, rode through the forest toward the +rim. + + +V + +We rode in different directions toward the hollow, the better to +chance meeting with Emett, but none of us caught a glimpse of him. + +It happened that when we headed into the hollow it was at a point just +above where the deer carcass hung in the scrub oak. Don in spite of +Jones' stern yells, let out his eager hunting yelp and darted down the +slope. The pack bolted after him and in less than ten seconds were +racing up the hollow, their thrilling, blending bays a welcome spur to +action. Though I spoke not a word to my mustang nor had time to raise +the bridle, he wheeled to one side and began to run. The other horses +also kept to the ridge, as I could tell by the pounding of hoofs on +the soft turf. The hounds in full cry right under us urged our good +steeds to a terrific pace. It was well that the ridge afforded clear +going. + +The speed at which we traveled, however, fast as it was, availed not +to keep up with the pack. In a short half mile, just as the hollow +sloped and merged into level ground, they left us behind and +disappeared so quickly as almost to frighten me. My mustang plunged +out of the forest to the rim and dashed along, apparently unmindful of +the chasm. The red and yellow surface blurred in a blinding glare. I +heard the chorus of hounds, but as its direction baffled me I trusted +to my horse and I did well, for soon he came to a dead halt on the +rim. + +Then I heard the hounds below me. I had but time to see the character +of the place--long, yellow promontories running out and slopes of +weathered stone reaching up between to a level with the rim--when in a +dwarf pine growing just over the edge I caught sight of a long, red, +pantherish body. + +I whooped to my followers now close upon me and leaping off hauled out +my Remington and ran to the cliff. The lion's long, slender body, of a +rare golden-red color, bright, clean, black-tipped and white-bellied, +proclaimed it a female of exceeding beauty. I could have touched her +with a fishing rod and saw how easily she could be roped from where I +stood. The tree in which she had taken refuge grew from the head of +a weathered slope and rose close to the wall. At that point it was +merely a parapet of crumbling yellow rock. No doubt she had lain +concealed under the shelving wall and had not had time to get away +before the hounds were right upon her. + +"She's going to jump," yelled Jones, in my rear, as he dismounted. + +I saw a golden-red streak flash downward, heard a mad medley from the +hounds, a cloud of dust rose, then something bright shone for a second +to the right along the wall. I ran with all my might to a headland of +rock upon which I scrambled and saw with joy that I could command the +situation. + +The lioness was not in sight, nor were the hounds. The latter, +however, were hot on the trail. I knew the lioness had taken to +another tree or a hole under the wall, and would soon be routed out. +This time I felt sure she would run down and I took a rapid glance +below. The slope inclined at a steep angle and was one long slide of +bits of yellow stone with many bunches of scrub oak and manzanita. +Those latter I saw with satisfaction, because in case I had to go down +they would stop the little avalanches. The slope reached down perhaps +five hundred yards and ended in a thicket and jumble of rocks from +which rose on the right a bare yellow slide. This ran up to a low +cliff. I hoped the lion would not go that way, for it led to great +broken battlements of rim. Left of the slide was a patch of cedars. + +Jim's yell pealed out, followed by the familiar penetrating howl of +the pack when it sighted game. With that I saw the lioness leaping +down the slope and close behind her a yellow hound. + +"Go it, Don, old boy!" I yelled, wild with delight. + +A crushing step on the stones told me Jones had arrived. + +"Hi! Hi! Hi!" roared he. + +I thought then that if the lioness did not cover thirty feet at every +jump I was not in a condition to judge distance. She ran away from Don +as if he had been tied and reached the thicket below a hundred yards +ahead of him. And when Don leaving his brave pack far up the slide +entered the thicket the lioness came out on the other side and bounded +up the bare slope of yellow shale. + +"Shoot ahead of her! Head her off! Turn her back!" cried Jones. + +With the word I threw forward the Remington and let drive. Following +the bellow of the rifle, so loud in that thin air, a sharp, harsh +report cracked up from below. A puff of yellow dust rose in front of +the lioness. I was in line, but too far ahead. I fired again. The +steel jacketed bullet hit a stone and spitefully whined away into the +canyon. I tried once more. This time I struck close to the lioness. +Disconcerted by a cloud of dust rising before her very eyes she +wheeled and ran back. + +We had forgotten Don and suddenly he darted out of the thicket, +straight up the slide. Always, in every chase, we were afraid the +great hound would run to meet his death. We knew it was coming +sometime. When the lioness saw him and stopped, both Jones and I felt +that this was to be the end of Don. + +"Shoot her! Shoot her!" cried Jones. "She'll kill him! She'll kill +him!" + +As I knelt on the rock I had a hard contraction of my throat, and +then all my muscles set tight and rigid. I pulled the trigger of my +automatic once, twice. It was wonderful how closely the two bullets +followed each other, as we could tell by the almost simultaneous +puffs of dust rising from under the beast's nose. She must have been +showered and stung with gravel, for she bounded off to the left and +disappeared in the cedars. I had missed, but the shots had served to a +better end than if I had killed her. + +As Don raced up the ground where a moment before a battle and probably +death had awaited him, the other hounds burst from the thicket. With +that, a golden form seemed to stand out from the green of the cedar, +to move and to rise. + +"She's treed! She's treed!" shouted Jones. "Go down and keep her there +while I follow." + +From the back of the promontory where I met the main wall, I let +myself down a niche, foot here and there, a hand hard on the soft +stone, braced knee and back until I jumped to the edge of the slope. +The scrub oak and manzanita saved me many a fall. I set some stones +rolling and I beat them to the bottom. Having passed the thicket, I +bent my efforts to the yellow slide and when I had surmounted it my +breath came in labored pants. The howling of the hounds guided me +through the cedars. + +First I saw Moze in the branches of cedar and above him the lioness. I +ran out into a little open patch of stony ground at the end of which +the tree stood leaning over a precipice. In truth the lioness was +swaying over a chasm. + +Those details I grasped in a glance, then suddenly awoke to the fact +that the lioness was savagely snarling at Moze. + +"Moze! Moze! Get down!" I yelled. + +He climbed on serenely. He was a most exasperating dog. I screamed at +him and hit him with a rock big enough to break his bones. He kept on +climbing. Here was a predicament. Moze would surely get to the lioness +if I did not stop him, and this seemed impossible. It was out of the +question for me to climb after him. And if the lioness jumped she +would have to pass me or come straight at me. So I slipped down the +safety catch on my automatic and stood ready to save Moze or myself. + +The lioness with a show of fury that startled me, descended her branch +a few steps, and reaching below gave Moze a sounding smack with her +big paw. The hound dropped as if he had been shot and hit the ground +with a thud. Whereupon she returned to her perch. + +This reassured me and I ran among the dogs and caught Moze already +starting for the tree again and tied him, with a strap I always carried, +to a small bush nearby. I heard the yells of my companions +and looking back over the tops of the cedars I saw Jim riding down and +higher to the left Jones sliding, falling, running at a great rate. I +encouraged them to keep up the good work, and then gave my attention to +the lioness. + +She regarded me with a cold, savage stare and showed her teeth. I +repaid this incivility on her part by promptly photographing her from +different points. + +Jones and Jim were on the spot before I expected them and both were +dusty and dripping with sweat. I found to my surprise that my face was +wet as was also my shirt. Jones carried two lassos, and my canteen, +which I had left on the promontory. + +"Ain't she a beauty?" he panted, wiping his face. "Wait--till I get my +breath." + +When finally he walked toward the cedar the lioness stood up and +growled as if she realized the entrance of the chief actor upon the +scene. Jones cast his lasso apparently to try her out, and the noose +spread out and fell over her head. As he tightened the rope the +lioness backed down behind a branch. + +"Tie the dogs!" yelled Jones. + +"Quick!" added Jim. "She's goin' to jump." + +Jim had only time to aid me in running my lasso under the collar of +Don, Sounder, Jude and one of the pups. I made them fast to a cedar. +I got my hands on Ranger just as Moze broke his strap. I grabbed his +collar and held on. + +Right there was where trouble commenced for me. Ranger tussled valiantly +and Moze pulled me all over the place. Behind me I heard Jones' roar and +Jim's yell; the breaking of branches, the howling of the other dogs. +Ranger broke away from me and so enabled me to get my other hand on the +neck of crazy Moze. On more than one occasion I had tried to hold him +and had failed; this time I swore I would do it if he rolled me +over the precipice. As to that, only a bush saved me. + +More and louder roars and yells, hoarser howls and sharper +wrestling, snapping sounds told me what was going on while I tried to +subdue Moze. I had a grim thought that I would just as lief have had +hold of the lioness. The hound presently stopped his plunging which gave +me an opportunity to look about. The little space was smoky with a smoke +of dust. I saw the lioness stretched out with one lasso around a bush +and another around a cedar with the end in the hands of Jim. He looked +as if he had dug up the ground. While he tied this lasso securely Jones +proceeded to rope the dangerous front paws. + +The hounds quieted down and I took advantage of this absence of tumult +to get rid of Moze. + +"Pretty lively," said Jones, spitting gravel as I walked up. Sand and +dust lay thick in his beard and blackened his face. "I tell you she +made us root." + +Either the lioness had been much weakened or choked, or Jones had +unusual luck, for we muzzled her and tied up her paws in short order. + +"Where's Ranger?" I asked suddenly, missing him from the panting +hounds. + +"I grabbed him by the heels when he tackled the lion, and I gave him a +sling somewheres," replied Jim. + +Ranger put in an appearance then under the cedars limping painfully. + +"Jim, darn me, if I don't believe you pitched him over the precipice!" +said Jones. + +Examination proved this surmise to be correct. We saw where Ranger had +slipped over a twenty-foot wall. If he had gone over just under the +cedar where the depth was much greater he would never have come back. + +"The hounds are choking with dust and heat," I said. When I poured +just a little water from my canteen into the crown of my hat, the +hounds began fighting around and over me and spilled the water. + +"Behave, you coyotes!" I yelled. Either they were insulted or fully +realized the exigency of the situation, for each one came up and +gratefully lapped every drop of his portion. + +"Shore, now comes the hell of it," said Jim appearing with a long +pole. "Packin' the critter out." + +An argument arose in regard to the best way up the slope, and by +virtue of a majority we decided to try the direction Jim and I thought +best. My companions led the way, carrying the lioness suspended on the +pole. I brought up the rear, packing my rifle, camera, lasso, canteen +and a chain. + +It was killing work. We had to rest every few steps. Often we would +fall. Jim laughed, Jones swore, and I groaned. Sometimes I had to drop +my things to help my companions. So we toiled wearily up the loose, +steep way. + +"What's she shakin' like that for?" asked Jim suddenly. + +Jones let down his end of the pole and turned quickly. Little tremors +quivered over the lissome body of the lioness. + +"She's dying," cried Jim, jerking out the stick between her teeth and +slipping off the wire muzzle. + +Her mouth opened and her frothy tongue lolled out. Jones pointed to +her quivering sides and then raised her eyelids. We saw the eyes +already glazing, solemnly fixed. + +"She's gone," he said. + +Very soon she lay inert and lifeless. Then we sat beside her without +a word, and we could hardly for the moment have been more stunned and +heartbroken if it had been the tragic death of one of our kind. +In that wild environment, obsessed by the desire to capture those +beautiful cats alive, the fateful ending of the successful chase was +felt out of all proportion. + +"Shore she's dead," said Jim. "And wasn't she a beauty? What was +wrong?" + +"The heat and lack of water," replied Jones. "She choked. What idiots +we were! Why didn't we think to give her a drink." + +So we passionately protested against our want of fore-thought, and +looked again and again with the hope that she might come to. But death +had stilled the wild heart. We gave up presently, still did not move +on. We were exhausted, and all the while the hounds lay panting on the +rocks, the bees hummed, the flies buzzed. The red colors of the upper +walls and the purple shades of the lower darkened silently. + + +VI + +"Shore we can't set here all night," said Jim. "Let's skin the lion +an' feed the hounds." + +The most astonishing thing in our eventful day was the amount of meat +stowed away by the dogs. Lion flesh appealed to their appetites. If +hungry Moze had an ounce of meat, he had ten pounds. It seemed a good +opportunity to see how much the old gladiator could eat; and Jim and I +cut chunks of meat as fast as possible. Moze gulped them with absolute +unconcern of such a thing as mastication. At length he reached his +limit, possibly for the first time in his life, and looking longingly +at a juicy red strip Jim held out, he refused it with manifest shame. +Then he wobbled and fell down. + +We called to him as we started to climb the slope, but he did not +come. Then the business of conquering that ascent of sliding stone +absorbed all our faculties and strength. Little headway could we have +made had it not been for the brush. We toiled up a few feet only to +slide back and so it went on until we were weary of life. + +When one by one we at last gained the rim and sat there to recover +breath, the sun was a half globe of fire burning over the western +ramparts. A red sunset bathed the canyon in crimson, painting the +walls, tinting the shadows to resemble dropping mists of blood. It was +beautiful and enthralling to my eyes, but I turned away because it +wore the mantle of tragedy. + +Dispirited and worn out, we trooped into camp to find Emett and a +steaming supper. Between bites the three of us related the story of +the red lioness. Emett whistled long and low and then expressed his +regret in no light terms. + +"Roping wild steers and mustangs is play to this work," he said in +conclusion. + +I was too tired to tease our captive lions that evening; even the +glowing camp-fire tempted me in vain, and I crawled into my bed with +eyes already glued shut. + +A heavy weight on my feet stirred me from oblivion. At first, when +only half awake, I could not realize what had fallen on my bed, then +hearing a deep groan I knew Moze had come back. I was dropping off +again when a strange, low sound caused my eyes to open wide. The black +night had faded to the gray of dawn. The sound I recognized at once +to be the Navajo's morning chant. I lay there and listened. Soft and +monotonous, wild and swelling, but always low and strange, the savage +song to the break of day was exquisitely beautiful and harmonious. I +wondered what the literal meaning of his words could have been. The +significance needed no translation. To the black shadows fading away, +to the brightening of the gray light, to the glow of the east, to the +morning sun, to the Giver of Life--to these the Indian chanted his +prayer. + +Could there have been a better prayer? Pagan or not, the Navajo with +his forefathers felt the spiritual power of the trees, the rocks, the +light and sun, and he prayed to that which was divinely helpful to him +in all the mystery of his unintelligible life. + +We did not crawl out that morning as early as usual, for it was to be +a day of rest. When we did, a mooted question arose--whether we or the +hounds were the more crippled. Ranger did not show himself; Don could +just walk and that was all; Moze was either too full or too tired to +move; Sounder nursed a foot and Jude favored her lame leg. + +After lunch we brightened up somewhat and set ourselves different +tasks. Jones had misplaced or lost his wire and began to turn the camp +topsy-turvy in his impatient efforts to locate it. The wire, however, +was not to be found. This was a calamity, for, as we asked each other, +how could we muzzle lions without wire? Moreover, a half dozen heavy +leather straps which I had bought in Kanab for use as lion collars had +disappeared. We had only one collar left, the one that Jones had put +on the red lioness. + +Whereupon we began to blame each other, to argue, to grow heated and +naturally from that to become angry. It seems a fatality of campers +along a wild trail, like explorers in an unknown land, to be prone to +fight. If there is an explanation of this singular fact, it must be +that men at such time lose their poise and veneer of civilization; in +brief, they go back. At all events we had it hot and heavy, with the +center of attack gradually focusing on Jones, and as he was always +losing something, naturally we united in force against him. + +Fortunately, we were interrupted by yells from the Navajo off in the +woods. The brushing of branches and pounding of hoofs preceded his +appearance. In some remarkable manner he had gotten a bridle on Marc, +and from the way the big stallion hurled his huge bulk over logs and +through thickets, it appeared evident he meant to usurp Jim's ambition +and kill the Navajo. Hearing Emett yell, the Indian turned Marc toward +camp. The horse slowed down when he neared the glade and tried to +buck. But Navvy kept his head up. With that Marc seemed to give way to +ungovernable rage and plunged right through camp; he knocked over the +dogs' shelter and thundered down the ridge. + +Now the Navajo, with the bridle in his hand was thoroughly at home. He +was getting his revenge on Marc, and he would have kept his seat on a +wild mustang, but Marc swerved suddenly under a low branch of a pine, +sweeping the Indian off. + +When Navvy did not rise we began to fear he had been seriously hurt, +perhaps killed, and we ran to where he lay. + +Face downward, hands outstretched, with no movement of body or muscle, +he certainly appeared dead. + +"Badly hurt," said Emett, "probably back broken. I have seen it before +from just such accidents." + +"Oh no!" cried Jones, and I felt so deeply I could not speak. Jim, who +always wanted Navvy to be a dead Indian, looked profoundly sorry. + +"He's a dead Indian, all right," replied Emett. + +We rose from our stooping postures and stood around, uncertain and +deeply grieved, until a mournful groan from Navvy afforded us much +relief. + +"That's your dead Indian," exclaimed Jones. + +Emett stooped again and felt the Indian's back and got in reward +another mournful groan. + +"It's his back," said Emett, and true to his ruling passion, forever +to minister to the needs of horses, men, and things, he began to rub +the Indian and call for the liniment. + +[Illustration: TREED LION] + +[Illustration: TREED LION] + +Jim went to fetch it, while I, still believing the Navvy to be +dangerously hurt, knelt by him and pulled up his shirt, exposing the +hollow of his brown back. + +"Here we are," said Jim, returning on the run with the bottle. + +"Pour some on," replied Emett. + +Jim removed the cork and soused the liniment all over the Indian's +back. + +"Don't waste it," remonstrated Emett, starting to rub Navvy's back. + +Then occurred a most extraordinary thing. A convulsion seemed to +quiver through the Indian's body; he rose at a single leap, and +uttering a wild, piercing yell broke into a run. I never saw an Indian +or anybody else run so fleetly. Yell after yell pealed back to us. + +Absolutely dumfounded we all gazed at each other. + +"That's your dead Indian!" ejaculated Jim. + +"What the hell!" exclaimed Emett, who seldom used such language. + +"Look here!" cried Jones, grabbing the bottle. "See! Don't you see +it?" + +Jim fell face downward and began to shake. + +"What?" shouted Emett and I together. + +"Turpentine, you idiots! Turpentine! Jim brought the wrong bottle!" + +In another second three more forms lay stretched out on the sward, and +the forest rang with sounds of mirth. + + +VII + +That night the wind switched and blew cold from the north, and so +strong that the camp-fire roared like a furnace. "More snow" was the +verdict of all of us, and in view of this, I invited the Navajo to +share my tent. + +"Sleepie-me," I said to him. + +"Me savvy," he replied and forthwith proceeded to make his bed with +me. + +Much to my surprise all my comrades raised protestations, which +struck me as being singularly selfish considering they would not be +inconvenienced in any way. + +"Why not?" I asked. "It's a cold night. There'll be frost if not +snow." + +"Shore you'll get 'em," said Jim. + +"There never was an Indian that didn't have 'em," added Jones. + +"What?" I questioned. + +They made mysterious signs that rather augmented my ignorance as to +what I might get from the Indian, but in no wise changed my mind. When +I went to bed I had to crawl over Navvy. Moze lay at my feet as usual +and he growled so deep that I could not but think he, too, resented +the addition to my small tent. + +"Mista Gay!" came in the Indian's low voice. + +"Well Navvy?" I asked. + +"Sleepie--sleepie?" + +"Yes, Navvy, sleepy and tired. Are you?" + +"Me savvy--mucha sleepie--mucha--no bueno." + +I did not wonder at his feeling sleepy, tired and bad. He did not +awaken me in the morning, for when my eyes unclosed the tent was light +and he had gone. I found my companions up and doing. + +We had breakfast and got into our saddles by the time the sun, a red +ball low down among the pines, began to brighten and turn to gold. No +snow had fallen but a thick frost encrusted the ground. The hounds, +wearing cloth moccasins, which plainly they detested, trotted in +front. Don showed no effects of his great run down the sliding slope +after the red lioness; it was one of his remarkable qualities that he +recuperated so quickly. Ranger was a little stiff, and Sounder favored +his injured foot. The others were as usual. + +Jones led down the big hollow to which he kept after we had passed the +edge of the pines; then marking a herd of deer ahead, he turned his +horse up the bank. + +We breasted the ridge and jogged toward the cedar forest, which we +entered without having seen the hounds show interest in anything. +Under the cedars in the soft yellow dust we crossed lion tracks, many +of them, but too old to carry a scent. Even North Hollow with its +regular beaten runway failed to win a murmur from the pack. + +"Spread out," said Jones, "and look for tracks. I'll keep the center +and hold in the hounds." + +Signalling occasionally to one another we crossed almost the breadth +of the cedar forest to its western end, where the open sage flats +inclined to the rim. In one of those flats I came upon a broken sage +bush, the grass being thick thereabout. I discovered no track but +dismounted and scrutinized the surroundings carefully. A heavy body +had been dragged across the sage, crushing it. The ends of broken +bushes were green, the leaves showed bruises. + +I began to feel like Don when he scented game. Leading my mustang I +slowly proceeded across the open, guided by an occasional down-trodden +bush or tuft of grass. As I neared the cedars again Foxie snorted. +Under the first tree I found a ghastly bunch of red bones, a spread of +grayish hairs and a split skull. The bones, were yet wet; two long doe +ears were still warm. Then I saw big lion tracks in the dust and even +a well pressed imprint of a lion's body where he had rolled or lain. + +The two yells I sent ringing into the forest were productive of +interesting results. Answers came from near and far. Then, what with +my calling and the replies, the forest rang so steadily with shrill +cries that the echoes had no chance to follow. + +An elephant in the jungle could not have caused more crashing and +breaking of brush than did Emett as he made his way to me. He arrived +from the forest just as Jim galloped across the flat. Mutely I held up +the two long ears. + +"Get on your horse!" cried Jim after one quick glance at the spread of +bones and hair. + +It was well he said that, for I might have been left behind. I ran to +Foxie and vaulted upon him. A flash of yellow appeared among the sage +and a string of yelps split the air. + +"It's Don!" yelled Jim. + +Well we knew that. What a sight to see him running straight for us! He +passed, a savage yellow wolf in his ferocity, and disappeared like a +gleam under the gloomy cedars. + +We spurred after him. The other hounds sped by. Jones closed in on us +from the left, and in a few minutes we were strung out behind Emett, +fighting the branches, dodging and swerving, hugging the saddle, and +always sending out our sharp yells. + +The race was furious but short. The three of us coming up together +found Emett dismounted on the extreme end of West Point. + +"The hounds have gone down," he said, pointing to the runway. + +We all listened to the meaning bays. + +"Shore they've got him up!" asserted Jim. "Like as not they found him +under the rim here, sleeping off his gorge. Now fellows, I'll go down. +It might be a good idea for you to spread along the rim." + +[Illustration: TREED LION] + +[Illustration: HIDING] + +With that we turned our horses eastward and rode as close to the rim +as possible. Clumps of cedars and deep fissures often forced us to +circle them. The hounds, traveling under the walls below, kept pace +with us and then forged ahead, which fact caused Jones to dispatch +Emett on the gallop for the next runway at North Hollow. + +Soon Jones bade me dismount and make my way out upon one of the +promontories, while he rode a little farther on. As I tied my mustang +I heard the hounds, faint and far beneath. I waded through the sage +and cedar to the rim. + +Cape after cape jutted out over the abyss. Some were very sharp and +bare, others covered with cedar; some tottering crags with a crumbling +bridge leading to their rims; and some ran down like giant steps. From +one of these I watched below. The slope here under the wall was like +the side of a rugged mountain. Somewhere down among the dark patches +of cedar and the great blocks of stone the hounds were hunting the +lion, but I could not see one of them. + +The promontory I had chosen had a split, and choked as this was with +brush, rock, and shale, it seemed a place where I might climb down. +Once started, I could not turn back, and sliding, clinging to what +afforded, I worked down the crack. A wall of stone hid the sky from +me part of the way. I came out a hundred feet below upon a second +promontory of huge slabs of yellow stone. Over these I clambered, to +sit with my feet swinging over the last one. + +Straight before my gaze yawned the awful expanse of the canyon. In the +soft morning light the red mesas, the yellow walls, the black domes +were less harsh than in the full noonday sun, purer than in the tender +shadow of twilight. Below me were slopes and slides divided by ravines +full of stones as large as houses, with here and there a lonesome +leaning crag, giving irresistible proof of the downward trend, of the +rolling, weathering ruins of the rim. Above the wall bulged out full +of fissures, ragged and rotten shelves, toppling columns of yellow +limestone, beaded with quartz and colored by wild flowers wonderfully +growing in crannies. + +Wild and rare as was this environment, I gave it but a glance and a +thought. The bay of the hounds caused me to bend sharp and eager eyes +to the open spaces of stone and slide below. Luck was mine as usual; +the hounds were working up toward me. How I strained my sight! Hearing +a single cry I looked eastward to see Jones silhouetted against the +blue on a black promontory. He seemed a giant primeval man overlooking +the ruin of a former world. I signalled him to make for my point. + +Black Ranger hove in sight at the top of a yellow slide. He was at +fault but hunting hard. Jude and Sounder bayed off to his left. I +heard Don's clear voice, permeating the thin, cool air, seemingly +to leave a quality of wildness upon it; yet I could not locate him. +Ranger disappeared. Then for a time I only heard Jim. Moze was next to +appear and he, too, was upward bound. A jumble of stone hid him, and +then Ranger again showed. Evidently he wanted to get around the bottom +of a low crag, for he jumped and jumped only to fall back. + +Quite naturally my eyes searched that crag. Stretched out upon the top +of it was the long, slender body of a lion. + +"Hi! hi! hi! hi! hi!" I yelled till my lungs failed me. + +"Where are you?" came from above. + +"Here! Here!" I cried seeing Jones on the rim. "Come down. Climb down +the crack. The lion is here; on top of that round crag. He's fooled +the hounds and they can't find him." + +"I see him! I see him!" yelled Jones. Then he roared out a single call +for Emett that pealed like a clear clarion along the curved broken rim +wall, opening up echoes which clapped like thunder. + +While Jones clattered down I turned again to the lion. He lay with +head hidden under a little shelf and he moved not a muscle. What a +place for him to choose! But for my accidental venturing down the +broken fragments and steps of the rim he could have remained safe from +pursuit. + +Suddenly, right under my feet, Don opened his string of yelps. I could +not see him but decided he must be above the lion on the crag. I +leaned over as far as I dared. At that moment among the varied and +thrilling sounds about me I became vaguely aware of hard, panting +breaths, like coughs somewhere in my vicinity. As Jones had set in +motion bushels of stone and had already scraped his feet over the +rocks behind me I thought the forced respiration came from him. When +I turned he was yet far off--too far for me to hear him breathe. I +thought this circumstance strange but straightway forgot it. + +On the moment from my right somewhere Don pealed out his bugle blast, +and immediately after Sounder and Jude joining him, sent up the thrice +welcome news of a treed lion. + +"There 're two! There 're two!" I yelled to Jones, now working down to +my right. + +"He's treed down here. I've got him spotted!" replied Jones. "You stay +there and watch your lion. Yell for Emett." + +Signal after signal for Emett earned no response, though Jim far below +to the left sent me an answer. + +The next few minutes, or more likely half an hour, passed with Jones +and me separated from each other by a wall of broken stone, waiting +impatiently for Jim and Emett, while the hounds bayed one lion and I +watched the other. + +Calmness was impossible under such circumstances. No man could have +gazed into that marvel of color and distance, with wild life about +him, with wild sounds ringing in his ears, without yielding to the +throb and race of his wild blood. + +Emett did not come. Jim had not answered a yell for minutes. No doubt +he needed his breath. He came into sight just to the left of our +position, and he ran down one side of the ravine to toil up the other. +I hailed him, Jones hailed him and the hounds hailed him. + +"Steer to your left Jim!" I called.. "There's a lion on that crag +above you. He might jump. Round the cliff to the left--Jones is +there!" + +The most painful task it was for me to sit there and listen to the +sound rising from below without being able to see what happened. My +lion had peeped up once, and, seeing me, had crouched closer to his +crag, evidently believing he was unseen, which obviously made it +imperative for me to keep my seat and hold him there as long as +possible. + +But to hear the various exclamations thrilled me enough. + +"Hyar Moze--get out of that. Catch him--hold him! Damn these rotten +limbs. Hand me a pole--Jones, back down--back down! he's comin'--Hi! +Hi! Whoop! Boo--o! There--now you've got him! No, no; it slipped! Now! +Look out, Jim, from under--he's going to jump!" + +A smashing and rattling of loose stones and a fiery burst of yelps +with trumpet-like yells followed close upon Jones' last words. Then +two yellow streaks leaped down the ravine. The first was the lion, the +second was Don. The rest of the pack came tumbling helter-skelter in +their wake. Following them raced Jim in long kangaroo leaps, with +Jones in the rear, running for all he was worth. The animated +and musical procession passed up out of the ravine and gradually +lengthened as the lion gained and Jones lost, till it passed +altogether from my jealous sight. + +On the other side of the ridge of cedars the hounds treed their quarry +again, as was easy to tell by their change from sharp intermittent +yelping to an unbroken, full, deep chorus. Then presently all quieted +down, and for long moments at a time the still silence enfolded the +slope. Shouts now and then floated up on the wind and an occasional +bark. + +I sat there for an hour by my watch, though it seemed only a few +minutes, and all that time my lion lay crouched on his crag and never +moved. + +I looked across the curve of the canyon to the purple breaks of the +Siwash and the shaggy side of Buckskin Mountain and far beyond to +where Kanab Canyon opened its dark mouth, and farther still to the +Pink Cliffs of Utah, weird and dim in the distance. + +Something swelled within my breast at the thought that for the time I +was part of that wild scene. The eye of an eagle soaring above would +have placed me as well as my lion among the few living things in the +range of his all-compassing vision. Therefore, all was mine, not +merely the lion--for he was only the means to an end--but the +stupendous, unnameable thing beneath me, this chasm that hid mountains +in the shades of its cliffs, and the granite tombs, some gleaming +pale, passionless, others red and warm, painted by a master hand; and +the wind-caves, dark-portaled under their mist curtains, and all +that was deep and far off, unapproachable, unattainable, of beauty +exceeding, dressed in ever-changing hues, was mine by right of +presence, by right of the eye to see and the mind to keep. + +"Waa-hoo!" + +The cry lifted itself out of the depths. I saw Jones on the ridge of +cedars. + +"All right here--have you kept your line there?" he yelled. + +"All's well--come along, come along," I replied. + +I watched them coming, and all the while my lion never moved. The +hounds reached the base of the cliff under me, but they could not +find the lion, though they scented him, for they kept up a continual +baying. Jim got up to the shelf under me and said they had tied up the +lion and left him below. Jones toiled slowly up the slope. + +"Some one ought to stay down there; he might jump," I called in +warning. + +"That crag is forty feet high on this side," he replied. + +I clambered back over the uneven mass, let myself down between the +boulders and crawled under a dark ridge, and finally with Jim catching +my rifle and camera and then lending his shoulders, I reached the +bench below. Jones came puffing around a corner of the cliff, and soon +all three of us with the hounds stood out on the rocky shelf with only +a narrow space between us and the crouching lion. + +Before we had a moment to speak, much less form a plan of attack, the +lion rose, spat at us defiantly, and deliberately jumped off the crag. +We heard him strike with a frightful thud. + +Surprise held us dumb. To take the leap to the slope below seemed +beyond any beast not endowed with wings. We saw the lion bounding down +the identical trail which the other lion had taken. Jones came out of +his momentary indecision. + +"Hold the dogs! Call them back!" he yelled hoarsely. "They'll kill the +lion we tied! They'll kill him!" + +The hounds had scattered off the bench here and there, everywhere, to +come together on the trail below. Already they were in full cry with +the matchless Don at the fore. Manifestly to call them back was an +injustice, as well as impossible. In ten seconds they were out of +sight. + +In silence we waited, each listening, each feeling the tragedy of the +situation, each praying that they would pass by the poor, helpless, +bound lion. Suddenly the regular baying swelled to a burst of savage, +snarling fury, such as the pack made in a vicious fight. This +ceased--short silence ensued; Don's sharp voice woke the echoes, then +the regular baying continued. + +As with one thought, we all sat down. Painful as the certainty was it +was not so painful as that listening, hoping suspense. + +"Shore they can't be blamed," said Jim finally. "Bumping their nose +into a tied lion that way--how'd they know?" + +"Who could guess the second lion would jump off that quick and run +back to our captive?" burst out Jones. + +"Shore we might have knowed it," replied Jim. "Well, I'm goin' after +the pack." + +He gathered up his lasso and strode off the bench. Jones said he would +climb back to the rim, and I followed Jim. + +Why the lions ran in that particular direction was clear to me when +I saw the trail. It was a runway, smooth and hard packed. I trudged +along it with rather less enjoyment than on any trail I had ever +followed to the canyon. Jim waited for me over the cedar ridge and +showed me where the captive lion lay dead. The hounds had not torn +him. They had killed him and passed on after the other. + +"He was a fine fellow, all of seven feet, we'll skin him on our way +back." + +Only dogged determination coupled with a sense of duty to the hounds +kept us on that trail. For the time being enthusiasm had been +submerged. But we had to follow the pack. + +Jim, less weighted down and perhaps less discouraged, forged ahead up +and down. The sun had burned all the morning coolness out of the air. +I perspired and panted and began to grow weary. Jim's signal called me +to hurry. I took to a trot and came upon him and the hounds under a +small cedar. The lion stood among the dead branches. His sides where +shaking convulsively, and his short breaths could be plainly heard. +He had the most blazing eyes and most untamed expression of any wild +creature I have ever seen; and this amazed me considering I had kept +him on a crag for over an hour, and had come to look upon him as my +own. + +"What'll we do, Jim, now that we have him treed?" + +"Shore, we'll tie him up," declared Jim. + +The lion stayed in the cedar long enough for me to photograph him +twice, then he leaped down again and took to his back trail. We +followed as fast as we could, soon to find that the hounds had put him +up another cedar. From this he jumped down among the dogs, scattered +them as if they had been so many leaves, and bounded up the slope out +of sight. + +I laid aside my rifle and camera and tried to keep up with Jim. The +lion ran straight up the slope and treed again under the wall. Before +we covered half the distance he was on the go once more, flying down +in clouds of dust. + +"Don is makin' him hump," said Jim. + +And that alone was enough to spur us on. We would reward the noble +hound if we had the staying power. Don and his pack ran westward this +time, and along a mile of the beaten trail put him up two more trees. +But these we could not see and judged only by the sound. + +[Illustration: A DRINK OF COLD GRANITE WATER UNDER THE RIM] + +[Illustration: WHICH IS THE PIUTE?] + +"Look there!" cried Jim. "Darn me if he ain't comin' right at us." + +It was true. Ahead of us the lion appeared, loping wearily. We stopped +in our tracks undecided. Jim drew his revolver. Once or twice the lion +disappeared behind stones and cedars. When he sighted us he stopped, +looked back, then again turning toward us, he left the trail to plunge +down. He had barely got out of sight when old Don came pattering along +the trail; then Ranger leading the others. Don did not even put his +nose to the ground where the lion had switched, but leaped aside and +went down. Here the long section of slope between the lion's runway +and the second wall had been weathered and worn, racked and convulsed +into deep ravines, with ridges between. We climbed and fell and toiled +on, always with the bay of the hounds in our ears. We leaped fissures, +we loosened avalanches, rolling them to crash and roar below, and send +long, rumbling echoes out into the canyon. + +A gorge in the yellow rock opened suddenly before us. We stood at the +constricted neck of one of the great splits in the second wall. The +side opposite was almost perpendicular, and formed of mass on mass of +broken stones. This was a weathered slope on a gigantic scale. Points +of cliffs jutted out; caves and cracks lined the wall. + +"This is a rough place," said Jim; "but a lion could get over the +second wall here, an' I believe a man could too. The hounds seemed to +be back further toward where the split narrows." + +Through densely massed cedars and thickets of prickly thorns we wormed +our way to come out at the neck of the gorge. + +"There ye are!" sang out Jim. The hounds were all on a flat shelf some +few feet below us, and on a sharp point of rock close by, but too far +for the dogs to reach, crouched the lion. He was gasping and frothing +at the mouth. + +"Shore if he'd only stay there--" said Jim. + +He loosened his lasso, and stationing himself just above the tired +beast he prepared to cast down the loop. The first throw failed of its +purpose, but the rope hit the lion. He got up painfully it seemed, +and faced the dogs. That way barred he turned to the cliff. Almost +opposite him a shelf leaned out. He looked at it, then paced to and +fro like a beast in a cage. + +He looked again at the hounds, then up at us, all around, and finally +concentrated his attention on the shelf; his long length sagged in +the middle, he stretched low, his muscles gathered and strung, and he +sprang like a tawny streak. + +His aim was true, the whole forepart of his body landed on the shelf +and he hung there. Then he slipped. We distinctly heard his claws +scrape the hard, smooth rock. He fell, turning a somersault, struck +twenty feet below on the rough slant, bounded from that to fall down, +striking suddenly and then to roll, a yellow wheel that lodged behind +a rock and stretched out to move no more. + +The hounds were silent; Jim and I were silent; a few little stones +rattled, then were still. The dead silence of the canyon seemed to pay +tribute to the lion's unquenchable spirit and to the freedom he had +earned to the last. + + +VIII + +How long Jim and I sat there we never knew. The second tragedy, not so +pitiful but as heart sickening as the first, crushed our spirits. + +"Shore he was a game lion," said Jim. "An' I'll have to get his skin." + + +"I'm all in, Jim. I couldn't climb out of that hole." I said. + +"You needn't. Rest a little, take a good drink an' leave your canteen +here for me; then get your things back there on the trail an' climb +out. We're not far from West Point. I'll go back after the first +lion's skin an' then climb straight up. You lead my horse to the point +where you came off the rim." + +He clattered along the gorge knocking the stones and started down. I +watched him letting himself over the end of the huge slabs until he +passed out of my sight. A good, long drink revived me and I began the +ascent. + +From that moment on time did not matter to me. I forgot all about it. +I felt only my leaden feet and my laboring chest and dripping skin. +I did not even notice the additional weight of my rifle and camera +though they must have overburdened me. I kept my eyes on the lion +runway and plunged away with short steps. To look at these towering +walls would have been to surrender. + +At last, stumbling, bursting, sick, I gained the rim and had to rest +before I could mount. When I did get into the saddle I almost fell +from it. + +Jones and Emett were waiting for me at the promontory where I had +tied my horse, and were soon acquainted with the particulars of my +adventure, and that Jim would probably not get out for hours. We made +tracks for camp, and never did a place rouse in me such a sense of +gratefulness. Emett got dinner and left on the fire a kettle of potato +stew for Jim. It was almost dark when that worthy came riding into +camp. We never said a word as he threw the two lion skins on the +ground. + +"Fellows, you shore have missed the wind-up!" he exclaimed. + +We all looked at him and he looked at us. + +"Was there any more?" I asked weakly. + +"Shore! An' it beats hell! When I got the skin of the lion the dogs +killed I started to work up to the place I knowed you'd leave my +horse. It's bad climbing where you came down. I got on the side of +that cliff an' saw where I could work out, if I could climb a smooth +place. So I tried. There was little cracks an' ridges for my feet and +hands. All to once, just above where I helped you down, I heard a +growl. Looking up I saw a big lion, bigger'n any we chased except +Sultan, an' he was pokin' his head out of a hole, an' shore telling +me to come no further. I couldn't let go with either hand to reach my +gun, because I'd have fallen, so I yelled at him with all my might. He +spit at me an' then walked out of the hole over the bench as proud as +a lord an' jumped down where I couldn't see him any more. I climbed +out all right but he'd gone. An' I'll tell you for a minute, he shore +made me sweat." + +"By George!" I yelled, greatly excited. "I heard that lion breathing. +Don chased him up there. I heard hard, wheezing breaths somewhere +behind me, but in the excitement I didn't pay any attention to them. I +thought it was Jones panting, but now I know what it meant." + +"Shore. He was there all the time, lookin' at you an' maybe he could +have reached you." + +We were all too exhausted for more discussion and putting that off +until the next day we sought our beds. It was hardly any wonder that I +felt myself jumping even in my sleep, and started up wildly more than +once in the dead of night. + +[Illustration: WILD HORSES DRINKING ON A PROMONTORY IN THE GRAND +CANYON] + +Morning found us all rather subdued, yet more inclined to a +philosophical resignation as regarded the difficulties of our special +kind of hunting. Capturing the lions on the level of the plateau was +easy compared to following them down into canyons and bringing them up +alone. We all agreed that that was next to impossible. Another feature, +which before we had not considered, added to our perplexity and it was a +dawning consciousness that we would be perhaps less cruel if we killed +the lions outright. Jones and Emett arrayed themselves on the side that +life even in captivity was preferable; while Jim and I, no doubt still +under the poignant influence of the last lion's heroic race and end, +inclined to freedom or death. We compromised on the reasonable fact that +as yet we had shown only a jackass kind of intelligence. + +[Illustration: JONES AND EMETT PACKING LION ON HORSE] + +[Illustration: JONES CLIMBING UP TO LASSO LION] + +About eleven o'clock while the others had deserted camp temporarily +for some reason or other, I was lounging upon an odorous bed of pine +needles. The sun shone warmly, the sky gleamed bright azure through +the openings of the great trees, a dry west breeze murmured through +the forest. I was lying on my bed musing idly and watching a yellow +woodpecker when suddenly I felt a severe bite on my shoulder. I +imagined an ant had bitten me through my shirt. In a moment or so +afterward I received, this time on my breast, another bite that left +no room for imagination. There was some kind of an animal inside my +shirt, and one that made a mosquito, black-fly, or flea seem tame. + +Suddenly a thought swept on the heels of my indolent and rather +annoying realization. Could I have gotten from the Navajo what Jim and +Jones so characteristically called "'em"? I turned cold all over. And +on the very instant I received another bite that burned like fire. + +The return of my companions prevented any open demonstration of my +fears and condition of mind, but I certainly swore inwardly. During +the dinner hour I felt all the time as if I had on a horsehair shirt +with the ends protruding toward my skin, and, in the exaggerated +sensitiveness of the moment, made sure "'em" were chasing up and down +my back. + +After dinner I sneaked off into the woods. I remembered that Emett +had said there was only one way to get rid of "'em," and that was to +disrobe and make a microscopical search of garments and person. With +serious mind and murderous intent I undressed. In the middle of the +back of my jersey I discovered several long, uncanny, gray things. + +"I guess I got 'em," I said gravely. + +Then I sat on a pine log in a state of unadorned nature, oblivious +to all around, intent only on the massacre of the things that had +violated me. How much time flew I could not guess. Great loud +"Haw-haws!" roused me to consternation. There behind me stood Jones +and Emett shaking as if with the ague. + +"It's not funny!" I shouted in a rage. I had the unreasonable +suspicion that they had followed me to see my humiliation. Jones, who +cracked a smile about as often as the equinoxes came, and Emett the +sober Mormon, laughed until they cried. + +"I was--just wondering--what your folks would--think--if they--saw +you--now," gurgled Jones. + +That brought to me the humor of the thing, and I joined in their +mirth. + +"All I hope is that you fellows will get 'em' too," I said. + +"The Good Lord preserve me from that particular breed of Navvy's," +cried Emett. + +Jones wriggled all over at the mere suggestion. Now so much from the +old plainsman, who had confessed to intimate relations with every +creeping, crawling thing in the West, attested powerfully to the +unforgettable singularity of what I got from Navvy. + +I returned to camp determined to make the best of the situation, +which owing to my failure to catch all of the gray devils, remained +practically unchanged. Jim had been acquainted with my dilemma, as was +manifest in his wet eyes and broad grin with which he greeted me. + +"I think I'd scalp the Navvy," he said. + +"You make the Indian sleep outside after this, snow or no snow," was +Jones' suggestion. + +"No I won't; I won't show a yellow streak like that. Besides, I want +to give 'em to you fellows." + +A blank silence followed my statement, to which Jim replied: + +"Shore that'll be easy; Jones'll have 'em, so'll Emett, an' by thunder +I'm scratchin' now." + +"Navvy, look here," I said severely, "mucha no bueno! heap bad! +You--me!" here I scratched myself and made signs that a wooden Indian +would have understood. + +"Me savvy," he replied, sullenly, then flared up. "Heap big lie." + +He turned on his heel, erect, dignified, and walked away amid the +roars of my gleeful comrades. + + +IX + +One by one my companions sought their blankets, leaving the shadows, +the dying embers, the slow-rising moan of the night wind to me. Old +Moze got up from among the other hounds and limped into my tent, where +I heard him groan as he lay down. Don, Sounder, and Ranger were +fast asleep in well-earned rest. Shep, one of the pups, whined and +impatiently tossed his short chain. Remembering that he had not been +loose all day, I unbuckled his collar and let him go. + +He licked my hand, stretched and shook himself, lifted his shapely, +sleek head and sniffed the wind. He trotted around the circle cast by +the fire and looked out into the darkening shadows. It was plain that +Shep's instincts were developing fast; he was ambitious to hunt. But +sure in my belief that he was afraid of the black night and would stay +in camp, I went to bed. + +The Navajo who slept with me snored serenely and Moze growled in his +dreams; the wind swept through the pines with an intermittent rush. +Some time in the after part of the night I heard a distant sound. +Remote, mournful, wild, it sent a chill creeping over me. Borne +faintly to my ears, it was a fit accompaniment to the moan of the wind +in the pines. It was not the cry of a trailing wolf, nor the lonesome +howl of a prowling coyote, nor the strange, low sound, like a cough, +of a hunting cougar, though it had a semblance of all three. It was +the bay of a hound, thinned out by distance, and it served to keep me +wide awake. But for a while, what with the roar and swell of the wind +and Navvy's snores, I could hear it only at long intervals. + +Still, in the course of an hour, I followed the sound, or imagined so, +from a point straight in line with my feet to one at right angles +with my head. Finally deciding it came from Shep, and fancying he was +trailing a deer or coyote, I tried to go to sleep again. + +In this I would have succeeded had not, all at once, our captive lions +begun to growl. That ominous, low murmuring awoke me with a vengeance, +for it was unusual for them to growl in the middle of the night. +I wondered if they, as well as the pup, had gotten the scent of a +prowling lion. + +I reached down to my feet and groped in the dark for Moze. Finding +him, I gave him a shake. The old gladiator groaned, stirred, and came +out of what must have been dreams of hunting meat. He slapped his tail +against my bed. As luck would have it, just then the wind abated to a +soft moan, and clear and sharp came the bay of a hound. Moze heard it, +for he stopped wagging his tail, his body grew tense under my hand, +and he vented his low, deep grumble. + +I lay there undecided. To wake my companions was hardly to be +considered, and to venture off into the forest alone, where old Sultan +might be scouting, was not exactly to my taste. And trying to think +what to do, and listening for the bay of the pup, and hearing mostly +the lions growling and the wind roaring, I fell asleep. + +"Hey! are you ever going to get up?" some one yelled into my drowsy +brain. I roused and opened my eyes. The yellow, flickering shadows on +the wall of my tent told me that the sun had long risen. I found my +companions finishing breakfast. The first thing I did was to look over +the dogs. Shep, the black-and-white pup, was missing. + +"Where's Shep?" I asked. + +"Shore, I ain't seen him this mornin'," replied Jim. + +Thereupon I told what I had heard during the night. + +"Everybody listen," said Jones. + +We quieted down and sat like statues. A gentle, cool breeze, barely +moving the pine tips, had succeeded the night wind. The sound of +horses munching their oats, and an occasional clink, rattle, and growl +from the lions did not drown the faint but unmistakable yelps of a +pup. + +"South, toward the canyon," said Jim, as Jones got up. + +"Now, it'd be funny if that little Shep, just to get even with me for +tying him up so often, has treed a lion all by himself," commented +Jones. "And I'll bet that's just what he's done." + +He called the hounds about him and hurried westward through the +forest. + +"Shore, it might be." Jim shook his head knowingly. "I reckon it's +only a rabbit, but anythin' might happen in this place." + +I finished breakfast and went into my tent for something--I forget +what, for wild yells from Emett and Jim brought me flying out again. + +"Listen to that!" cried Jim, pointing west. + +The hounds had opened up; their full, wild chorus floated clearly on +the breeze, and above it Jones' stentorian yell signaled us. + +"Shore, the old man can yell," continued Jim. "Grab your lassos an' +hump yourselves. I've got the collar an' chain." + +"Come on, Navvy," shouted Emett. He grasped the Indian's wrist and +started to run, jerking Navvy into the air at every jump. I caught up +my camera and followed. We crossed two shallow hollows, and then saw +the hounds and Jones among the pines not far ahead. + +In my excitement I outran my companions and dashed into an open glade. +First I saw Jones waving his long arms; next the dogs, noses upward, +and Don actually standing on his hind legs; then a dead pine with a +well-known tawny shape outlined against the blue sky. + +"Hurrah for Shep!" I yelled, and right vigorously did my comrades join +in. + +"It's another female," said Jones, when we calmed down, "and fair +sized. That's the best tree for our purpose that I ever saw a lion in. +So spread out, boys; surround her and keep noisy." + +Navvy broke from Emett at this juncture and ran away. But evidently +overcome by curiosity, he stopped to hide behind a bush, from which I +saw his black head protruding. + +When Jones swung himself on the first stubby branch of the pine, the +lioness, some fifteen feet above, leaped to another limb, and the one +she had left cracked, swayed and broke. It fell directly upon Jones, +the blunt end striking his head and knocking him out of the tree. +Fortunately, he landed on his feet; otherwise there would surely have +been bones broken. He appeared stunned, and reeled so that Emett +caught him. The blood poured from a wound in his head. + +This sudden shock sobered us instantly. On examination we found a +long, jagged cut in Jones' scalp. We bathed it with water from my +canteen and with snow Jim procured from a nearby hollow, eventually +stopping the bleeding. I insisted on Jones coming to camp to have the +wound properly dressed, and he insisted on having it bound with a +bandana; after which he informed us that he was going to climb the +tree again. + +We objected to this. Each of us declared his willingness to go up and +rope the lion; but Jones would not hear of it. + +"I'm not doubting your courage," he said. "It's only that you cannot +tell what move the lion would make next, and that's the danger." + +We could not gainsay this, and as not one of us wanted to kill the +animal or let her go, Jones had his way. So he went up the tree, +passed the first branch and then another. The lioness changed her +position, growled, spat, clawed the twigs, tried to keep the tree +trunk between her and Jones, and at length got out on a branch in a +most favorable position for roping. + +The first cast of the lasso did the business, and Jim and Emett with +nimble fingers tied up the hounds. + +"Coming," shouted Jones. He slid down, hand over hand, on the rope, +the lioness holding his weight with apparent ease. + +"Make your noose ready," he yelled to Emett. + +I had to drop my camera to help Jones and Jim pull the animal from +her perch. The branches broke in a shower; then the lioness, hissing, +snarling, whirling, plunged down. She nearly jerked the rope out of +our hands, but we lowered her to Emett, who noosed her hind paws in a +flash. + +"Make fast your rope," shouted Jones. "There, that's good! Now let her +down--easy." + +As soon as the lioness touched ground we let go the lasso, which +whipped up and over the branch. She became a round, yellow, rapidly +moving ball. Emett was the first to catch the loose lasso, and he +checked the rolling cougar. Jones leaped to assist him and the two of +them straightened out the struggling animal, while Jim swung another +noose at her. On the second throw he caught a front paw. + +"Pull hard! Stretch her out!" yelled Jones. He grasped a stout piece +of wood and pushed it at the lioness. She caught it in her mouth, +making the splinters fly. Jones shoved her head back on the ground and +pressed his brawny knee on the bar of wood. + +"The collar! The collar! Quick!" he called. + +I threw chain and collar to him, which in a moment he had buckled +round her neck. + +"There, we've got her!" he said. "It's only a short way over to camp, +so we'll drag her without muzzling." + +As he rose the lioness lurched, and reaching him, fastened her +fangs in his leg. Jones roared. Emett and Jim yelled. And I, though +frightened, was so obsessed with the idea of getting a picture that I +began to fumble with the shutter of my camera. + +"Grab the chain! Pull her off!" bawled Jones. + +I ran in, took up the chain with both hands, and tugged with all my +might. Emett, too, had all his weight on the lasso round her neck. +Between the two of us we choked her hold loose, but she brought Jones' +leather leggin in her teeth. Then I dropped the chain and jumped. + +"**-- **--!" exploded Jones to me. "Do you think more of a picture +than of saving my life?" Having expressed this not unreasonable +protest, he untied the lasso that Emett had made fast to a small +sapling. + +Then the three men, forming points of a triangle around an animated +center, began a march through the forest that for variety of action +and splendid vociferation beat any show I ever beheld. + +So rare was it that the Navajo came out of his retreat and, +straightway forgetting his reverence and fear, began to execute a +ghost-dance, or war-dance, or at any rate some kind of an Indian +dance, along the side lines. + +There were moments when the lioness had Jim and Jones on the ground +and Emett wobbling; others when she ran on her bound legs and chased +the two in front and dragged the one behind; others when she came +within an ace of getting her teeth in somebody. + +They had caught a Tartar. They dared not let her go, and though Jones +evidently ordered it, no one made fast his rope to a tree. There was +no opportunity. She was in the air three parts of the time and the +fourth she was invisible for dust. The lassos were each thirty feet +long, but even with that the men could just barely keep out of her +reach. + +Then came the climax, as it always comes in a lion hunt, unerringly, +unexpectedly, and with lightning swiftness. The three men were nearing +the bottom of the second hollow, well spread out, lassos taut, facing +one another. Jones stumbled and the lioness leaped his way. The +weight of both brought Jim over, sliding and slipping, with his rope +slackening. The leap of the lioness carried her within reach of Jones; +and as he raised himself, back toward her, she reached a big paw for +him just as Emett threw all his bull strength and bulk on his lasso. + +The seat of Jones' trousers came away with the lioness' claws. Then +she fell backward, overcome by Emett's desperate lunge. Jones sprang +up with the velocity of an Arab tumbler, and his scarlet face, working +spasmodically, and his moving lips, showed how utterly unable he was +to give expression to his rage. I had a stitch in my side that nearly +killed me, but laugh I had to though I should die for it. + +No laughing matter was it for them. They volleyed and thundered +back and forth meaningless words of which "hell" was the only one +distinguishable, and probably the word that best described their +situation. + +All the while, however, they had been running from the lioness, which +brought them before they realized it right into camp. Our captive +lions cut up fearfully at the hubbub, and the horses stampeded in +terror. + +"Whoa!" yelled Jones, whether to his companions or to the struggling +cougar, no one knew. But Navvy thought Jones addressed the cougar. + +"Whoa!" repeated Navvy. "No savvy whoa! No savvy whoa!" which proved +conclusively that the Navajo had understanding as well as wit. + +Soon we had another captive safely chained and growling away in tune +with the others. I went back to untie the hounds, to find them sulky +and out of sorts from being so unceremoniously treated. They noisily +trailed the lioness into camp, where, finding her chained, they formed +a ring around her. + +Thereafter the day passed in round-the-camp-fire chat and task. For +once Jim looked at Navvy with toleration. We dressed the wound in +Jones' head and laughed at the condition of his trousers and at his +awkward attempts to piece them. + +"Mucha dam cougie," remarked Navvy. "No savvy whoa!" + +The lions growled all day. And Jones kept repeating: "To think how +Shep fooled me!" + + +X + +Next morning Jones was out bright and early, yelling at Navvy to hurry +with the horses, calling to the hounds and lions, just as usual. + +Navvy had finally come to his full share of praise from all of us. +Even Jim acknowledged that the Indian was invaluable to a hunting +party in a country where grass and water were hard to find and wild +horses haunted the trails. + +"_Tohodena! Tohodena!_ (hurry! hurry!)" said Navvy, mimicking Jones +that morning. + +As we sat down to breakfast he loped off into the forest and before we +got up the bells of the horses were jingling in the hollow. + +"I believe it's going to be cloudy," said Jones, "and if so we can +hunt all day." + +We rode down the ridge to the left of Middle Canyon, and had trouble +with the hounds all the way. First they ran foul of a coyote, which +was the one and only beast they could not resist. Spreading out to +head them off, we separated. I cut into a hollow and rode to its head, +where I went up. I heard the hounds and presently saw a big, white +coyote making fast time through the forest glades. It looked as if he +would cross close in front of me, so I pulled Foxie to a standstill, +jumped off and knelt with my rifle ready. But the sharp-eyed coyote +saw my horse and shied off. I had not much hope to hit him so far +away, and the five bullets I sent after him, singing and zipping, +served only to make him run faster. I mounted Foxie and intercepted +the hounds coming up sharply on the trail, and turned them toward my +companions, now hallooing from the ridge below. + +Then the pack lost a good hour on several lion tracks that were a day +old, and for such trails we had no time. We reached the cedars however +at seven o'clock, and as the sky was overcast with low dun-colored +clouds and the air cool, we were sure it was not too late. + +One of the capes of the plateau between Middle and Left Canyon was a +narrow strip of rock, covered with a dense cedar growth and cut up +into smaller canyons, all running down inevitably toward the great +canyon. With but a single bark to warn us, Don got out of our sight +and hearing; and while we split to look and call for him the remainder +of the pack found the lion trail that he had gone on, and they left +us trying to find a way out as well as to find each other. I kept the +hounds in hearing for some time and meanwhile I signalled to Emett who +was on my right flank. Jones and Jim might as well have vanished off +the globe for all I could see or hear of them. A deep, narrow gully +into which I had to lead Foxie and carefully coax him out took so much +time that when I once more reached a level I could not hear the hounds +or get an answer to my signal cry. + +"Waa-hoo!" I called again. + +Away on the dry rarified air pealed the cry, piercing the cedar +forest, splitting sharp in the vaulted canyons, rolling loud and long, +to lose power, to die away in muffling echo. But the silence returned +no answer. + +I rode on under the cedars, through a dark, gloomy forest, silent, +almost spectral, which brought irresistibly to my mind the words +"I found me in a gloomy wood astray." I was lost though I knew the +direction of the camp. This section of cedar forest was all but +impenetrable. Dead cedars were massed in gray tangles, live cedars, +branches touching the ground, grew close together. In this labyrinth +I lost my bearings. I turned and turned, crossed my own back trail, +which in desperation I followed, coming out of the cedars at the deep +and narrow canyon. + +Here I fired my revolver. The echo boomed out like the report of heavy +artillery, but no answering shot rewarded me. There was no alternative +save to wander along the canyon and through the cedars until I found +my companions. This I began to do, disgusted with my awkwardness in +losing them. Turning Foxie westward I had scarcely gotten under way +when Don came trotting toward me. + +"Hello, old boy!" I called. Don appeared as happy to see me as I was +to see him. He flopped down on the ground; his dripping tongue rolled +as he panted; covered with dust and flecked with light froth he surely +looked to be a tired hound. + +"All in, eh Don!" I said dismounting. "Well, we'll rest awhile." Then +I discovered blood on his nose, which I found to have come from a deep +scratch. "A--ah! been pushing a lion too hard this morning? Got your +nose scratched, didn't you? You great, crazy hound, don't you know +some day you'll chase your last lion?" + +Don wagged his tail as if to say he knew it all very well. I wet my +handkerchief from my canteen and started to wash the blood and dust +from his nose, when he whined and licked my fingers. + +"Thirsty?" I asked, sitting down beside him. Denting the top of my hat +I poured in as much water as it would hold and gave him to drink. Four +times he emptied my improvised cup before he was satisfied. Then with +a sigh of relief he lay down again. + +The three of us rested there for perhaps half an hour, Don and I +sitting quietly on the wall of the canyon, while Foxie browsed on +occasional tufts of grass. During that time the hound never raised his +sleek, dark head, which showed conclusively the nature of the silence. +And now that I had company--as good company as any hunter ever had--I +was once more contented. + +Don got up, at length of his own volition and with a wag of his tail +set off westward along the rim. Remounting my mustang I kept as close +to Don's heels as the rough going permitted. The hound, however, +showed no disposition to hurry, and I let him have his way without a +word. + +We came out in the notch of the great amphitheater or curve we had +named the Bay, and I saw again the downward slope, the bold steps, the +color and depth below. + +I was just about to yell a signal cry when I saw Don, with hair rising +stiff, run forward. He took a dozen jumps, then yelping broke down the +steep, yellow and green gorge. He disappeared before I knew what had +happened. + +Shortly I found a lion track, freshly made, leading down. I believed +I could follow wherever Don led, so I decided to go after him. I tied +Foxie securely, removed my coat, kicked off spurs and chaps, and +remembering past unnecessary toil, fastened a red bandana to the top +of a dead snag to show me where to come up on my way out. Then I +carefully strapped my canteen and camera on my back, made doubly +secure my revolver, put on my heavy gloves, and started down. And I +realized at once that only so lightly encumbered should I have ever +ventured down the slope. + +Little benches of rock, grassy on top, with here and there cedar +trees, led steeply down for perhaps five hundred feet. A precipice +stopped me. From it I heard Don baying below, and almost instantly saw +the yellow gleam of a lion in a tree-top. + +"Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!" I yelled in wild encouragement. + +I felt it would be wise to look before I leaped. The Bay lay under me, +a mile wide where it opened into the great slumbering smoky canyon. +All below was chaos of splintered stone and slope, green jumble of +cedar, ruined, detached, sliding, standing cliff walls, leaning yellow +crags--an awful hole. But I could get down, and that was all I cared +for. I ran along to the left, jumping cracks, bounding over the uneven +stones with sure, swift feet, and came to where the cliff ended in +weathered slope and scaly bench. + +It was like a game, going down that canyon. My heavy nailed boots +struck fire from the rocks. My heavy gloves protected my hands as I +slid and hung on and let go. I outfooted the avalanches and wherever I +came to a scaly slope or bank or decayed rock, I leaped down in sheer +delight. + +But all too soon my progress was barred; once under the cliff I found +only a gradual slope and many obstacles to go round or surmount. Luck +favored me, for I ran across a runway and keeping to it made better +time. I heard Don long before I tried to see him, and yelled at +intervals to let him know I was coming. A white bank of weathered +stones led down to a clump of cedars from where Don's bay came +spurring me to greater efforts. I flew down this bank, and through an +opening saw the hound standing with fore feet against a cedar. The +branches over him swayed, and I saw an indistinct, tawny form move +downward in the air. Then succeeded the crash and rattle of stones. +Don left the tree and disappeared. + +I dashed down, dodged under the cedars, threaded a maze of rocks, to +find myself in a ravine with a bare, water-worn floor. In patches of +sand showed the fresh tracks of Don and the lion. Running down this +dry, clean bed was the easiest going I ever found in the canyon. Every +rod the course jumped in a fall from four to ten feet, often more, and +these I slid down. How I ever kept Don in hearing was a marvel, but +still I did. + +The lion evidently had no further intention of taking to a tree. From +the size of his track I concluded he was old and I feared every moment +to hear the sounds of a fight. Jones had said that nearly always in +the case of one hound chasing an old lion, the lion would lie in wait +for him and kill him. And I was afraid for Don. + +Down, down, down, we went, till the yellow rim above seemed a thin +band of gold. I saw that we were almost to the canyon proper, and +I wondered what would happen when we reached it. The dark shaded +watercourse suddenly shot out into bright light and ended in a deep +cove, with perpendicular walls fifty feet high. I could see where +a few rods farther on this cove opened into a huge, airy, colored +canyon. + +I called the hound, wondering if he had gone to the right or left of +the cove. His bay answered me coming from the cedars far to the right. +I turned with all the speed left in me, for I felt the chase nearing +an end. Tracks of hound and lion once more showed in the dust. The +slope was steep and stones I sent rolling cracked down below. Soon I +had a cliff above me and had to go slow and cautiously. A misstep or +slide would have precipitated me into the cove. + +Almost before I knew what I was about, I stood gasping on the gigantic +second wall of the canyon, with nothing but thin air under me, except, +far below, faint and indistinct purple clefts, red ridges, dotted +slopes, running down to merge in a dark, winding strip of water, +that was the Rio Colorado. A sullen murmur soared out of the abyss. + +[Illustration: TWO LIONS IN ONE TREE] + +[Illustration: JONES, EMETT, AND THE NAVAJO WITH THE LIONS] + +The coloring of my mood changed. Never had the canyon struck me so +terribly with its illimitable space, its dread depth, its unscalable +cliffs, and particularly with the desolate, forbidding quality of its +silence. + +I heard Don bark. Turning the corner of the cliff wall I saw him on a +narrow shelf. He was coming toward me and when he reached me he faced +again to the wall and barked fiercely. The hair on his neck bristled. +I knew he did not fancy that narrow strip of rock, nor did I. But a +sudden, grim, cold something had taken possession of me, and I stepped +forward. + +"Come on, Don, old fellow, we've got him corralled." + +That was the first instance I ever knew of Don's hesitation in the +chase of a lion. I had to coax him to me. But once started he took the +lead and I closely followed. + +The shelf was twenty feet wide and upon it close to the wall, in the +dust, were the deep imprints of the lion. A jutting corner of cliff +wall hid my view. I peeped around it. The shelf narrowed on the other +side to a yard in width, and climbed gradually by broken steps. Don +passed the corner, looked back to see if I was coming and went on. He +did this four times, once even stopping to wait for me. + +"I'm with you Don!" I grimly muttered. "We'll see this trail out to a +finish." + +I had now no eyes for the wonders of the place, though I could not but +see as I bent a piercing gaze ahead the ponderous overhanging wall +above, and sense the bottomless depth below. I felt rather than saw +the canyon swallows, sweeping by in darting flight, with soft +rustle of wings, and I heard the shrill chirp of some strange cliff +inhabitant. + +Don ceased barking. How strange that seemed to me! We were no longer +man and hound, but companions, brothers, each one relying on the +other. A protruding corner shut us from sight of what was beyond. Don +slipped around. I had to go sidewise and shuddered as my fingers bit +into the wall. + +To my surprise I soon found myself on the floor of a shallow wind +cave. The lion trail led straight across it and on. Shelves of rock +stuck out above under which I hurriedly walked. I came upon a shrub +cedar growing in a niche and marveled to see it there. Don went slower +and slower. + +We suddenly rounded a point, to see the lion lying in a box-like space +in the wall. The shelf ended there. I had once before been confronted +with a like situation, and had expected to find it here, so was not +frightened. The lion looked up from his task of licking a bloody paw, +and uttered a fierce growl. His tail began to lash to and fro; it +knocked the little stones off the shelf. I heard them click on the +wall. Again and again he spat, showing great, white fangs. He was a +Tom, heavy and large. + +It had been my purpose, of course, to photograph this lion, and now +that we had cornered him I proposed to do it. What would follow had +only hazily formed in my mind, but the nucleus of it was that he +should go free. I got my camera, opened it, and focused from between +twenty and twenty-five feet. + +Then a growl from Don and roar from the lion bade me come to my +senses. I did so and my first movement after seeing the lion had risen +threateningly was to whip out my revolver. + +The lion's cruel yellow eyes darkened and darkened. In an instant I +saw my error. Jones had always said in case any one of us had to +face a lion, never for a single instant to shift his glance. I had +forgotten that, and in that short interval when I focused my camera +the lion had seen I meant him no harm, or feared him, and he had +risen. Even then in desperate lessening ambition for a great picture I +attempted to take one, still keeping my glance on him. + +It was then that the appalling nature of my predicament made itself +plain to me. The lion leaped ten feet and stood snarling horribly +right in my face. + +Brave, noble Don, with infinitely more sense and courage than I +possessed, faced the lion and bayed him in his teeth. I raised the +revolver and aimed twice, each time lowering it because I feared to +shoot in such a precarious position. To wound the lion would be the +worst thing I could do, and I knew that only a shot through the brain +would kill him in his tracks. + +"Hold him, Don, hold him!" I yelled, and I took a backward step. The +lion put forward one big paw, his eyes now all purple blaze. I backed +again and he came forward. Don gave ground slowly. Once the lion +flashed a yellow paw at him. It was frightful to see the wide-spread +claws. + +In the consternation of the moment I allowed the lion to back me +across the front of the wind cave, where I saw, the moment it was too +late, I should have taken advantage of more space to shoot him. + +Fright succeeded consternation, and I began to tremble. The lion was +master of the situation. What would happen when I came to the narrow +point on the shelf where it would be impossible for me to back around? +I almost fainted. The thought of heroic Don saved me, and the weak +moment passed. + +"By God, Don, you've got the nerve, and I must have it too!" + +I stopped in my tracks. The lion, appearing huge now, took slow +catlike steps toward me, backing Don almost against my knees. He was +so close I smelt him. His wonderful eyes, clear blue fire circled by +yellow flame, fascinated me. Hugging the wall with my body I brought +the revolver up, short armed, and with clinched teeth, and nerve +strained to the breaking point, I aimed between the eyes and pulled +the trigger. + +The left eye seemed to go out blankly, then followed the bellow of the +revolver and the smell of powder. The lion uttered a sound that was a +mingling of snarls, howls and roars and he rose straight up, towering +high over my head, beating the wall heavily with his paws. + +In helpless terror I stood there forgetting weapon, fearing only the +beast would fall over on me. + +But in death agony he bounded out from the wall to fall into space. + +I sank down on the shelf, legs powerless, body in cold sweat. As I +waited, slowly my mind freed itself from a tight iron band and a +sickening relief filled my soul. Tensely I waited and listened. Don +whined once. + +Would the lion never strike? What seemed a long period of time ended +in a low, distant roar of sliding rock, quickly dying into the solemn +stillness of the canyon. + + +XI + +I lay there for some moments slowly recovering, eyes on the far +distant escarpments, now darkly red and repellent to me. When I got up +my legs were still shaky and I had the strange, weak sensation of a +long bed-ridden invalid. Three attempts were necessary before I could +trust myself on the narrow strip of shelf. But once around it with the +peril passed, I braced up and soon reached the turn in the wall. + +After that the ascent out of the Bay was only a matter of work, which +I gave with a will. Don did not evince any desire for more hunting +that day. We reached the rim together, and after a short rest, I +mounted my horse, and we turned for camp. + +The sun had long slanted toward the western horizon when I saw the +blue smoke of our camp-fire among the pines. The hounds rose up and +barked as Don trotted in to the blaze, and my companions just sitting +to a dinner, gave me a noisy greeting. + +"Shore, we'd began to get worried," said Jim. "We all had it comin' to +us to-day, and don't you forget that." + +Dinner lasted for a long hour. Besides being half famished we all +took time between bites to talk. I told my story first, expecting my +friends to be overwhelmed, but they were not. + +"It's been the greatest day of lion hunting that I ever experienced," +declared Jones. "We ran bang into a nest of lions and they split. We +all split and the hounds split. That tells the tale. We have nothing +to show for our day's toil. Six lions chased, rounded up, treed, +holed, and one lion killed, and we haven't even his skin to show. I +did not go down but I helped Ranger and two of the pups chase a lion +all over the lower end of the plateau. We treed him twice and I yelled +for you fellows till my voice was gone." + +"Well," said Emett, "I fell in with Sounder and Jude. They were hot on +a trail which in a mile or two turned up this way. I came on them just +at the edge of the pines where they had treed their game. I sat under +that pine tree for five hours, fired all my shots to make you fellows +come, yelled myself hoarse and then tried to tie up the lion alone. He +jumped out and ran over the rim, where neither I nor the dogs could +follow." + +"Shore, I win, three of a kind," drawled Jim, as he got his pipe and +carefully dusted the bowl. "When the stampede came, I got my hands on +Moze and held him. I held Moze because just as the other hounds broke +loose over to my right, I saw down into a little pocket where a +fresh-killed deer lay half eaten. So I went down. I found two other +carcasses layin' there, fresh killed last night, flesh all gone, hide +gone, bones crushed, skull split open. An' damn me fellows, if that +little pocket wasn't all torn to pieces. The sage was crushed flat. +The ground dug up, dead snags broken, and blood and hair everywhere. +Lion tracks like leaves, and old Sultan's was there. I let Moze loose +and he humped the trail of several lions south over the rim. Major got +down first an' came back with his tail between his legs. Moze went +down and I kept close to him. It wasn't far down, but steep and rocky, +full of holes. Moze took the trail to a dark cave. I saw the tracks of +three lions goin' in. Then I collared Moze an' waited for you fellows. +I waited there all day, an' nobody came to my call. Then I made for +camp." + +"How do you account for the torn-up appearance of the place where you +found the carcasses?" I asked. + +"Lion fight sure," replied Jones. "Maybe old Sultan ran across the +three lions feeding, and pitched into them. Such fights were common +among the lions in Yellowstone Park when I was there." + +"What chance have we to find those three lions in a cave where Jim +chased them?" + +"We stand a good chance," said Jones. "Especially if it storms +to-night." + +"Shore the snow storm is comin'," returned Jim. + +Darkness clapped down on us suddenly, and the wind roared in the pines +like a mighty river tearing its way down a rocky pass. As we could not +control the camp-fire, sparks of which blew fiercely, we extinguished +it and went to bed. I had just settled myself comfortably to be sung +to sleep by the concert in the pines, when Jones hailed me. + +"Say, what do you think?" he yelled, when I had answered him. "Emett +is mad. He's scratching to beat the band. He's got 'em." + +I signalled his information with a loud whoop of victory. + +"You next, Jones! They're coming to you!" + +I heard him grumble over my happy anticipation. Jim laughed and so +did the Navajo, which made me suspect that he could understand more +English than he wanted us to suppose. + +Next morning a merry yell disturbed my slumbers. "Snowed in--snowed +in!" + +"Mucha snow--discass--no cougie--dam no bueno!" exclaimed Navvy. + +When I peeped out to see the forest in the throes of a blinding +blizzard, the great pines only pale, grotesque shadows, everything +white mantled in a foot of snow, I emphasized the Indian words in +straight English. + +"Much snow--cold--no cougar--bad!" + +"Stay in bed," yelled Jones. + +"All right," I replied. "Say Jones, have you got 'em yet?" + +He vouchsafed me no answer. I went to sleep then and dozed off and on +till noon, when the storm abated. We had dinner, or rather breakfast, +round a blazing bonfire. + +"It's going to clear up," said Jim. + +The forest around us was a somber and gloomy place. The cloud that had +enveloped the plateau lifted and began to move. It hit the tree tops, +sometimes rolling almost to the ground, then rising above the trees. +At first it moved slowly, rolling, forming, expanding, blooming like +a column of whirling gray smoke; then it gathered headway and rolled +onward through the forest. A gray, gloomy curtain, moving and +rippling, split by the trees, seemed to be passing over us. It rose +higher and higher, to split up in great globes, to roll apart, showing +glimpses of blue sky. + +Shafts of golden sunshine shot down from these rifts, dispelling the +shadows and gloom, moving in paths of gold through the forest glade, +gleaming with brilliantly colored fire from the snow-wreathed pines. + +The cloud rolled away and the sun shone hot. The trees began to drip. +A mist of diamonds filled the air, rainbows curved through every glade +and feathered patches of snow floated down. + +A great bank of snow, sliding from the pine overhead almost buried +the Navajo, to our infinite delight. We all sought the shelter of the +tents, and sleep again claimed us. + +I awoke about five o'clock. The sun was low, making crimson paths in +the white aisles of the forest. A cold wind promised a frosty morning. + +"To-morrow will be the day for lions," exclaimed Jones. + +While we hugged the fire, Navvy brought up the horses and gave them +their oats. The hounds sought their shelter and the lions lay hidden +in their beds of pine. The round red sun dropped out of sight beyond +the trees, a pink glow suffused all the ridges; blue shadows gathered +in the hollow, shaded purple and stole upward. A brief twilight +succeeded to a dark, coldly starlit night. + +Once again, when I had crawled into the warm hole of my sleeping bag, +was I hailed from the other tent. + +Emett called me twice, and as I answered, I heard Jones remonstrating +in a low voice. + +"Shore, Jones has got 'em!" yelled Jim. "He can't keep it a secret no +longer." + +"Hey, Jones," I cried, "do you remember laughing at me?" + +"No, I don't," growled Jones. + +"Listen to this: Haw-haw! haw! haw! ho-ho! ho-ho! bueno! bueno!" and I +wound up with a string of "hi! hi! hi! hi! hi!" + +The hounds rose up in a body and began to yelp. + +"Lie down, pups," I called to them. "Nothing doing for you. It's only +Jones has got 'em." + + +XII + +When we trooped out of the pines next morning, the sun, rising +gloriously bright, had already taken off the keen edge of the frosty +air, presaging a warm day. The white ridges glistened; the bunches of +sage scintillated, and the cedars, tipped in snow, resembled trees +with brilliant blossoms. + +We lost no time riding for the mouth of Left Canyon, into which Jim +had trailed the three lions. On the way the snow, as we had expected, +began to thin out, and it failed altogether under the cedars, though +there was enough on the branches to give us a drenching. + +Jim reined in on the verge of a narrow gorge, and informed us the cave +was below. Jones looked the ground over and said Jim had better +take the hounds down while the rest of us remained above to await +developments. + +Jim went down on foot, calling the hounds and holding them close. We +listened eagerly for him to yell or the pack to open up, but we were +disappointed. In less than half an hour Jim came climbing out, with +the information that the lions had left the cave, probably the evening +after he had chased them there. + +"Well, then," said Jones, "let's split the pack, and hunt round the +rims of these canyons. We can signal to each other if necessary." + +So we arranged for Jim to take Ranger and the pups across Left Canyon; +Emett to try Middle Canyon, with Don and Moze, and we were to perform +a like office in Right Canyon with Sounder and Jude. Emett rode back +with us, leaving us where we crossed Middle Canyon. + +Jones and I rimmed a mile of our canyon and worked out almost to the +west end of the Bay, without finding so much as a single track, so we +started to retrace our way. The sun was now hot; the snow all gone; +the ground dry as if it had never been damp; and Jones grumbled that +no success would attend our efforts this morning. + +We reached the ragged mouth of Right Canyon, where it opened into the +deep, wide Bay, and because we hoped to hear our companions across the +canyon, we rode close to the rim. Sounder and Jude both began to bark +on a cliff; however, as we could find no tracks in the dust we called +them off. Sounder obeyed reluctantly, but Jude wanted to get down over +the wall. + +"They scent a lion," averred Jones. "Let's put them over the wall." + +Once permitted to go, the hounds needed no assistance. They ran up +and down the rim till they found a crack. Hardly had they gone out +of sight when we heard them yelping. We rushed to the rim and looked +over. The first step was short, a crumbled section of wall, and from +it led down a long slope, dotted here and there with cedars. Both +hounds were baying furiously. + +I spied Jude with her paws up on a cedar, and above her hung a lion, +so close that she could nearly reach him. Sounder was not yet in +sight. + +"There! There!" I cried, directing Jones' glance. "Are we not lucky?" + +"I see. By George! Come, we'll go down. Leave everything that you +don't absolutely need." + +Spurs, chaps, gun, coat, hat, I left on the rim, taking only my camera +and lasso. I had forgotten to bring my canteen. We descended a ladder +of shaly cliff, the steps of which broke under our feet. The slope +below us was easy, and soon we stood on a level with the lion. The +cedar was small, and afforded no good place for him. Evidently he +jumped from the slope to the tree, and had hung where he first +alighted. + +"Where's Sounder? Look for him. I hear him below. This lion won't stay +treed long." + +I, too, heard Sounder. The cedar tree obstructed my view, and I moved +aside. A hundred feet farther down the hound bayed under a tall piñon. +High in the branches I saw a great mass of yellow, and at first glance +thought Sounder had treed old Sultan. How I yelled! Then a second +glance showed two lions close together. + +"Two more! two more! look! look!" I yelled to Jones. + +"Hi! Hi! Hi!" he joined his robust yell to mine, and for a moment we +made the canyon bellow. When we stopped for breath the echoes bayed at +us from the opposite walls. + +"Waa-hoo!" Emett's signal, faint, far away, soaring but unmistakable, +floated down to us. Across the jutting capes separating the mouths of +these canyons, high above them on the rim wall of the opposite side of +the Bay, stood a giant white horse silhouetted against the white +sky. They made a brave picture, one most welcome to us. We yelled in +chorus: "Three lions treed! Three lions treed! come down--hurry!" + +A crash of rolling stones made us wheel. Jude's lion had jumped. He +ran straight down, drawing Sounder from his guard. Jude went tearing +after them. + +"I'll follow; you stay here. Keep them up there, if you can!" yelled +Jones. Then in long strides he passed down out of sight among the +trees and crags. + +It had all happened so quickly that I could scarcely realize it. The +yelping of the hounds, the clattering of stones, grew fainter, telling +me Jude and Sounder, with Jones, were going to the bottom of the Bay. + +Both lions snarling at me brought me to a keen appreciation of the +facts in the case. Two full-grown lions to be kept treed without +hounds, without a companion, without a gun. + +"This is fine! This is funny!" I cried, and for a moment I wanted to +run. But the same grim, deadly feeling that had taken me with Don +around the narrow shelf now rose in me stronger and fiercer. I +pronounced one savage malediction upon myself for leaving my gun. I +could not go for it; I would have to make the best of my error, and in +the wildness born of the moment I swore if the lions would stay treed +for the hounds they would stay treed for me. + +First I photographed them from different positions; then I took up my +stand about on a level with them in an open place on the slope where +they had me in plain sight. I might have been fifty feet from them. +They showed no inclination to come down. + +About this moment I heard hounds below, coming down from the left. I +called and called, but they passed on down the canyon bottom in the +direction Jones had taken. + +Presently a chorus of bays, emphasized by Jones' yell, told me his +lion had treed again. + +"Waa-hoo!" rolled down from above. + +I saw Emett farther to the left from the point where he had just +appeared. + +"Where--can--I--get--down?" + +I surveyed the walls of the Bay. Cliff on cliff, slide on slide, +jumble, crag, and ruin, baffled my gaze. But I finally picked out a +path. + +"Farther to the left," I yelled, and waited. He passed on, Don at his +heels. + +"There," I yelled again, "stop there; let Don go down with your lasso, +and come yourself." + +I watched him swing the hound down a wall, and pull the slip noose +free. Don slid to the edge of a slope, trotted to the right and left +of crags, threaded the narrow places, and turned in the direction of +the baying hounds. He passed on the verge of precipices that made me +tremble for him; but sure-footed as a goat, he went on safely down, to +disappear far to my right. + +Then I saw Emett sliding, leg wrapped around his lasso, down the first +step of the rim. His lasso, doubled so as to reach round a cedar +above, was too short to extend to the landing below. He dropped, +raising a cloud of dust, and starting the stones. Pulling one end of +his lasso up around the cedar he gathered it in a coil on his arm and +faced forward, following Don's trail. + +What strides he took! In the clear light, with that wild red and +yellow background, with the stones and gravel roaring down, streaming +over the walls like waterfalls, he seemed a giant pursuing a foe. From +time to time he sent up a yell of encouragement that wound down the +canyon, to be answered by Jones and the baying hounds and then the +strange echoes. At last he passed out of sight behind the crests of +the trees; I heard him going down, down till the sounds came up faint +and hollow. + +I was left absolutely alone with my two lions and never did a hunter +so delight in a situation. I sat there in the sun watching them. For a +long time they were quiet, listening. But as the bays and yells below +diminished in volume and occurrence and then ceased altogether, they +became restless. It was then that I, remembering the lion I had held +on top of the crag, began to bark like a hound. The lions became quiet +once more. + +I bayed them for an hour. My voice grew from hoarse to hoarser, and +finally failed in my throat. The lions immediately grew restless +again. The lower one hissed, spat and growled at me, and made many +attempts to start down, each one of which I frustrated by throwing +stones under the tree. At length he made one more determined effort, +turned head downward, and stepped from branch to branch. + +I dashed down the incline with a stone in one hand and a long club in +the other. Instinctively I knew I must hurt him--make him fear me. +If he got far enough down to jump, he would either escape or have me +helpless. I aimed deliberately at him, and hit him square in the ribs. +He exploded in a spit-roar that raised my hair. Directly under him I +wielded my club, pounded on the tree, thrashed at the branches and, +like the crazy fool that I was, yelled at him: + +"Go back! Go back! Don't you dare come down! I'd break your old head +for you!" + +Foolish or not, this means effectually stopped the descent. He climbed +to his first perch. It was then, realizing what I had done, that I +would certainly have made tracks from under the piñon, if I had not +heard the faint yelp of a hound. + +I listened. It came again, faint but clearer. I looked up at my lions. +They too heard, for they were very still. I saw how strained they held +their heads. I backed a little way up the slope. Then the faint yelp +floated up again in the silence. Such dead, strange silence, that +seemed never to have been broken! I saw the lions quiver, and if I +ever heard anything in my life I heard their hearts thump. The yelp +wafted up again, closer this time. I recognized it; it belonged to +Don. The great hound on the back trail of the other lion was coming to +my rescue. + +"It's Don! It's Don! It's Don!" I cried, shaking my club at the lions. +"It's all up with you now!" What feelings stirred me then! Pity for +those lions dominated me. Big, tawny, cruel fellows as they were, they +shivered with fright. Their sides trembled. But pity did not hold me +long; Don's yelp, now getting clear and sharp, brought back the rush +of savage, grim sensations. + +A full-toned bay attracted my attention from the lions to the downward +slope. I saw a yellow form moving under the trees and climbing fast. +It was Don. + +"Hi! Hi! old boy!" I yelled. + +Then it seemed he moved up like a shot and stood all his long length, +forepaws against the piñon, his deep bay ringing defiance to the +lions. + +It was a great relief, not to say a probable necessity, for me to sit +down just then. + +"Now come down," I said to my lions; "you can't catch that hound, and +you can't get away from him." + +Moments passed. I was just on the point of deciding to go down to +hurry up my comrades, when I heard the other hounds coming. Yelp on +yelp, bay on bay, made welcome music to my ears. Then a black and +yellow, swiftly flying string of hounds bore into sight down the +slope, streaked up and circled the piñon. + +Jones, who at last showed his tall stooping form on the steep ascent, +seemed as long in coming as the hounds had been swift. + +"Did you get the lion? Where's Emett?" I asked in breathless +eagerness. + +"Lion tied--all fast," replied the panting Jones. "Left Emett--to +guard--him." + +"What are we to do now?" + +"Wait--till I get my breath. Think out--a plan. We can't get both +lions--out of one tree." + +"All right," I replied, after a moment's thought. "I'll tie Sounder +and Moze. You go up the tree. That first lion will jump, sure; he's +almost ready now. Don and the other hounds will tree him again pretty +soon. If he runs up the canyon, well and good. Then, if you can get +the lasso on the other, I'll yell for Emett to come up to help you, +and I'll follow Don." + +Jones began the ascent of the piñon. The branches were not too close, +affording him easy climbing. Before we looked for even a move on the +part of the lions, the lower one began stepping down. I yelled a +warning, but Jones did not have time to take advantage of it. He had +half turned, meaning to swing out and drop, when the lion planted both +forepaws upon his back. Jones went sprawling down with the lion almost +on him. + +Don had his teeth in the lion before he touched the ground, and when +he did strike the rest of the hounds were on him. A cloud of dust +rolled down the slope. The lion broke loose and with great, springy +bounds ran up the canyon, Don and his followers hot-footing it after +him. + +Moze and Sounder broke the dead sapling to which I had tied them, and +dragging it behind them, endeavored in frenzied action to join the +chase. I drew them back, loosening the rope, so in case the other lion +jumped I could free them quickly. + +Jones calmly gathered himself up, rearranged his lasso, took his long +stick, and proceeded to mount the piñon again. I waited till I saw him +slip the noose over the lion's head, then I ran down the slope to +yell for Emett. He answered at once. I told him to hurry to Jones' +assistance. With that I headed up the canyon. + +I hung close to the broad trail left by the lion and his pursuers. I +passed perilously near the brink of precipices, but fear of them was +not in me that day. I passed out of the Bay into the mouth of Left +Canyon, and began to climb. The baying of the hounds directed me. In +the box of yellow walls the chorus seemed to come from a hundred dogs. + +When I found them, close to a low cliff, baying the lion in a thick, +dark piñon, Ranger leaped into my arms and next Don stood up against +me with his paws on my shoulders. These were strange actions, and +though I marked it at the moment, I had ceased to wonder at our +hounds. I took one picture as the lion sat in the dark shade, and then +climbed to the low cliff and sat down. I called Don to me and held +him. In case our quarry leaped upon the cliff I wanted a hound to put +quickly on his trail. + +Another hour passed. It must have been a dark hour for the lion--he +looked as if it were--and one of impatience for the baying hounds, but +for me it was a full hour. Alone with the hounds and a lion, far from +the walks of men, walled in by the wild-colored cliffs, with the dry, +sweet smell of cedar and piñon, I asked no more. + +Sounder and Moze, vociferously venting their arrival, were forerunners +to Jones. I saw his gray locks waving in the breeze, and yelled for +him to take his time. As he reached me the lion jumped and ran up the +canyon. This suited me, for I knew he would take to a tree soon and +the farther up he went the less distance we would have to pack him. +From the cliff I saw him run up a slope, pass a big cedar, cunningly +turn on his trail, and then climb into the tree and hide in its +thickest part. Don passed him, got off the trail, and ran at fault. +The others, so used to his leadership, were also baffled. But Jude, +crippled and slow, brought up the rear, and she did not go a yard +beyond where the lion turned. She opened up her deep call under the +cedar, and in a moment the howling pack were around her. + +Jones and I toiled laboriously upward. He had brought my lasso, and +he handed it to me with the significant remark that I would soon have +need of it. + +The cedar was bushy and overhung a yellow, bare slope that made Jones +shake his head. He climbed the tree, lassoed the spitting lion and +then leaped down to my side. By united and determined efforts we +pulled the lion off the limb and let him down. The hounds began to +leap at him. We both roared in a rage at them but to no use. + +"Hold him there!" shouted Jones, leaving me with the lasso while he +sprang forward. + +The weight of the animal dragged me forward and, had I not taken a +half hitch round a dead snag, would have lifted me off my feet or +pulled the lasso from my hands. As it was, the choking lion, now +within reach of the furious, leaping hounds, swung to and fro before +my face. He could not see me, but his frantic lunges narrowly missed +me. + +If never before, Jones then showed his genius. Don had hold of the +lion's flank, and Jones, grabbing the hound by the hind legs, threw +him down the slope. Don fell and rolled a hundred feet before he +caught himself. Then Jones threw old Moze rolling, and Ranger, and all +except faithful Jude. Before they could get back he roped the lion +again and made fast to a tree. Then he yelled for me to let go. The +lion fell. Jones grabbed the lasso, at the same time calling for me to +stop the hounds. As they came bounding up the steep slope, I had to +club the noble fellows into submission. + +Before the lion recovered wholly from his severe choking, we had his +paws bound fast. Then he could only heave his tawny sides, glare and +spit at us. + +"Now what?" asked Jones. "Emett is watching the second lion, which we +fastened by chain and lasso to a swinging branch. I'm all in. My heart +won't stand any more climb." + +"You go to camp for the pack horses," I said briefly. "Bring them all, +and all the packs, and Navvy, too. I'll help Emett tie up the second +lion, and then we'll pack them both up here to this one. You take the +hounds with you." + +"Can you tie up that lion?" asked Jones. "Mind you, he's loose except +for a collar and chain. His claws haven't been clipped. Besides, it'll +be an awful job to pack those two lions up here." + +"We can try," I said. "You hustle to camp. Your horse is right up back +of here, across the point, if I don't mistake my bearings." + +Jones, admonishing me again, called the hounds and wearily climbed the +slope. I waited until he was out of hearing; then began to retrace my +trail down into the canyon. I made the descent in quick time, to find +Emett standing guard over the lion. The beast had been tied to an +overhanging branch that swung violently with every move he made. + +"When I got here," said Emett, "he was hanging over the side of that +rock, almost choked to death. I drove him into this corner between the +rocks and the tree, where he has been comparatively quiet. Now, what's +up? Where is Jones? Did you get the third lion?" + +I related what had occurred, and then said we were to tie this lion +and pack him with the other one up the canyon, to meet Jones and the +horses. + +"All right," replied Emett, with a grim laugh. "We'd better get at +it. Now I'm some worried about the lion we left below. He ought to be +brought up, but we both can't go. This lion here will kill himself." + +"What will the other one weigh?" + +"All of one hundred and fifty pounds." + +"You can't pack him alone." + +"I'll try, and I reckon that's the best plan. Watch this fellow and +keep him in the corner." + +Emett left me then, and I began a third long vigil beside a lion. The +rest was more than welcome. An hour and a half passed before I heard +the sliding of stones below, which told me that Emett was coming. He +appeared on the slope almost bent double, carrying the lion, head +downward, before him. He could climb only a few steps without lowering +his burden and resting. + +I ran down to meet him. We secured a stout pole, and slipping this +between the lion's paws, below where they were tied, we managed to +carry him fairly well, and after several rests, got him up alongside +the other. + +"Now to tie that rascal!" exclaimed Emett. "Jones said he was the +meanest one he'd tackled, and I believe it. We'll cut a piece off of +each lasso, and unravel them so as to get strings. I wish Jones hadn't +tied the lasso to that swinging branch." + +"I'll go and untie it." Acting on this suggestion I climbed the tree +and started out on the branch. The lion growled fiercely. + +"I'm afraid you'd better stop," warned Emett. "That branch is bending, +and the lion can reach you." + +But despite this I slipped out a couple of yards farther, and had +almost gotten to the knotted lasso, when the branch swayed and bent +alarmingly. The lion sprang from his corner and crouched under me +snarling and spitting, with every indication of leaping. + +"Jump! Jump! Jump!" shouted Emett hoarsely. + +[Illustration: BILLY IN CAMP] + +[Illustration: LION LICKING SNOWBALL] + +I dared not, for I could not jump far enough to get out of the lion's +reach. I raised my legs and began to slide myself back up the branch. +The lion leaped, missing me, but scattering the dead twigs. Then the +beast, beside himself with fury, half leaped, half stood up, and +reached for me. I looked down into his blazing eyes, and open mouth +and saw his white fangs. + +Everything grew blurred before my eyes. I desperately fought for +control over mind and muscle. I heard hoarse roars from Emett. Then +I felt a hot, burning pain in my wrist, which stung all my faculties +into keen life again. + +I saw the lion's beaked claws fastened in my leather wrist-band. At +the same instant Emett dashed under the branch, and grasped the lion's +tail. One powerful lunge of his broad shoulders tore the lion loose +and flung him down the slope to the full extent of his lasso. Quick +as thought I jumped down, and just in time to prevent Emett from +attacking the lion with the heavy pole we had used. + +"I'll kill him! I'll kill him!" roared Emett. + +"No you won't," I replied, quietly, for my pain had served to soothe +my excitement as well as to make me more determined. "We'll tie up the +darned tiger, if he cuts us all to pieces. You know how Jones will +give us the laugh if we fail. Here, bind up my wrist." + +Mention of Jones' probable ridicule and sight of my injury cooled +Emett. + +"It's a nasty scratch," he said, binding my handkerchief round it. +"The leather saved your hand from being torn off. He's an ugly brute, +but you're right, we'll tie him. Now, let's each take a lasso and +worry him till we get hold of a paw. Then we can stretch him out." + +Jones did a fiendish thing when he tied that lion to the swinging +branch. It was almost worse than having him entirely free. He had a +circle almost twenty feet in diameter in which he could run and leap +at will. It seemed he was in the air all the time. First at Emett, +than at me he sprang, mouth agape, eyes wild, claws spread. We whipped +him with our nooses, but not one would hold. He always tore it off +before we could draw it tight. I secured a precarious hold on one hind +paw and straightened my lasso. + +"That's far enough," cried Emett. "Now hold him tight; don't lift him +off the ground." + +I had backed up the slope. Emett faced the lion, noose ready, waiting +for a favorable chance to rope a front paw. The lion crouched low and +tense, only his long tail lashing back and forth across my lasso. +Emett threw the loop in front of the spread paws, now half sunk into +the dust. + +"Ease up; ease up," said he. "I'll tease him to jump into the noose." + +I let my rope sag. Emett poked a stick into the lion's face. All at +once I saw the slack in the lasso which was tied to the lion's chain. +Before I could yell to warn my comrade the beast leaped. My rope +burned as it tore through my hands. The lion sailed into the air, his +paws wide-spread like wings, and one of them struck Emett on the head +and rolled him on the slope. I jerked back on my rope only to find it +had slipped its hold. + +"He slugged me one," remarked Emett, calmly rising and picking up his +hat. "Did he break the skin?" + +"No, but he tore your hat band off," I replied. "Let's keep at him." + +For a few moments or an hour--no one will ever know how long--we ran +round him, raising the dust, scattering the stones, breaking the +branches, dodging his onslaughts. He leaped at us to the full length +of his tether, sailing right into our faces, a fierce, uncowed, +tigerish beast. If it had not been for the collar and swivel he would +have choked himself a hundred times. Quick as a cat, supple, powerful, +tireless, he kept on the go, whirling, bounding, leaping, rolling, +till it seemed we would never catch him. + +"If anything breaks, he'll get one of us," cried Emett. "I felt his +breath that time." + +"Lord! How I wish we had some of those fellows here who say lions are +rank cowards!" I exclaimed. + +In one of his sweeping side swings the lion struck the rock and hung +there on its flat surface with his tail hanging over. + +"Attract his attention," shouted Emett, "but don't get too close. +Don't make him jump." + +While I slowly manoeuvered in front of the lion, Emett slipped behind +the rock, lunged for the long tail and got a good hold of it. Then +with a whoop he ran around the rock, carrying the kicking, squalling +lion clear of the ground. + +"Now's your chance," he yelled. "Rope a hind foot! I can hold him." + +In a second I had a noose fast on both hind paws, and then passed my +rope to Emett. While he held the lion I again climbed the tree, untied +the knot that had caused so much trouble, and very shortly we had our +obstinate captive stretched out between two trees. After that we took +a much needed breathing spell. + +"Not very scientific," growled Emett, by way of apologizing for our +crude work, "but we had to get him some way." + +"Emett, do you know I believe Jones put up a job on us?" I said. + +"Well, maybe he did. We had the job all right. But we'll make short +work of him now." + +He certainly went at it in a way that alarmed me and would have +electrified Jones. While I held the chain Emett muzzled the lion +with a stick and a strand of lasso. His big blacksmith's hands held, +twisted and tied with remorseless strength. + +"Now for the hardest part of it," said he, "packing him up." + +We toiled and drudged upward, resting every few yards, wet with sweat, +boiling with heat, parching for water. We slipped and fell, got up to +slip and fall again. The dust choked us. We senselessly risked our +lives on the brinks of precipices. We had no thought save to get the +lion up. One hour of unremitting labor saw our task finished, so far. +Then we wearily went down for the other. + +"This one is the heaviest," gloomily said Emett. + +We had to climb partly sidewise with the pole in the hollow of our +elbows. The lion dragged head downward, catching in the brush and +on the stones. Our rests became more frequent. Emett, who had the +downward end of the pole, and therefore thrice the weight, whistled +when he drew breath. Half the time I saw red mist before my eyes. How +I hated the sliding stones! + +"Wait," panted Emett once. "You're--younger--than me--wait!" + +For that Mormon giant--used all his days to strenuous toil, peril and +privation--to ask me to wait for him, was a compliment which I valued +more than any I had ever received. + +At last we dropped our burden in the shade of a cedar where the +other lions lay, and we stretched ourselves. A long, sweet rest came +abruptly to end with Emett's next words. + +"The lions are choking! They're dying of thirst! We must have water!" + +One glance at the poor, gasping, frothing beasts, proved to me the +nature of our extremity. + +"Water in this desert! Where will we find it? Oh! why, did I forget my +canteen!" + +After all our hopes, our efforts, our tragedies, and finally our +wonderful good fortune, to lose these beautiful lions for lack of a +little water was sickening, maddening. + +"Think quick!" cried Emett. "I'm no good; I'm all in. But you must +find water. It snowed yesterday. There's water somewhere." + +Into my mind flashed a picture of the many little pockets beaten by +rains into the shelves and promontories of the canyon rim. With the +thought I was on the jump. I ran; I climbed; I seemed to have wings; I +reached the rim, and hurried along it with eager gaze. I swung down on +a cedar branch to a projecting point of rock. Small depressions were +everywhere still damp, but the water had evaporated. But I would not +give up. I jumped from rock to rock, and climbed over scaly ledges, +and set tons of yellow shale into motion. And I found on a ragged +promontory many little, round holes, some a foot deep, all full of +clear water. Using my handkerchief as a sponge I filled my cap. + +Then began my journey down. I carried the cap with both hands and +balanced myself like a tight-rope performer. I zigzagged the slopes; +slipped over stones; leaped fissures and traversed yellow slides. +I safely descended places that in an ordinary moment would have +presented insurmountable obstacles, and burst down upon Emett with an +Indian yell of triumph. + +"Good!" ejaculated he. If I had not known it already, the way his face +changed would have told me of his love for animals. He grasped a lion +by the ears and held his head up. I saturated my handkerchief and +squeezed the water into his mouth. He wheezed, coughed, choked, but to +our joy he swallowed. He had to swallow. One after the other we served +them so, seeing with unmistakable relief the sure signs of recovery. +Their eyes cleared and brightened; the dry coughing that distressed us +so ceased; the froth came no more. The savage fellow that had fought +us to a standstill, and for which we had named him Spitfire, raised +his head, the gold in his beautiful eyes darkened to fire and he +growled his return to life and defiance. + +Emett and I sank back in unutterable relief. + +"Waa-hoo!" Jones' yell came, breaking the warm quiet of the slope. +Our comrade appeared riding down. The voice of the Indian, calling to +Marc, mingled with the ringing of iron-shod hoofs on the stones. + +Jones surveyed the small level spot in the shade of the cedars. He +gazed from the lions to us, his stern face relaxed, and his dry laugh +cracked. + +"Doggone me, if you didn't do it!" + + +XIII + +A strange procession soon emerged from Left Canyon and stranger to us +than the lion heads bobbing out of the alfagoes was the sight of Navvy +riding in front of the lions. I kept well in the rear, for if anything +happened, which I calculated was more than likely, I wanted to see +it. Before we had reached the outskirts of pines, I observed that the +piece of lasso around Spitfire's nose had worked loose. + +Just as I was about to make this known to Jones, the lion opened a +corner of his mouth and fastened his teeth in the Navajo's overalls. +He did not catch the flesh, for when Navvy turned around he wore only +an expression of curiosity. But when he saw Spitfire chewing him he +uttered a shrill scream and fell sidewise off his horse. + +Then two difficulties presented themselves to us, to catch the +frightened horse and persuade the Indian he had not been bitten. We +failed in the latter. Navvy gave us and the lions a wide berth, and +walked to camp. + +Jim was waiting for us, and said he had chased a lion south along the +rim till the hounds got away from him. + +Spitfire, having already been chained, was the first lion we +endeavored to introduce to our family of captives. He raised such a +fearful row that we had to remove him some distance from the others. + +"We have two dog chains," said Jones, "but not a collar or a swivel +in camp. We can't chain the lions without swivels. They'd choke +themselves in two minutes." + +Once more, for the hundredth time, Emett came to our rescue with his +inventive and mechanical skill. He took the largest pair of hobbles we +had, and with an axe, a knife and Jones' wire nippers, fashioned two +collars with swivels that for strength and serviceableness improved +somewhat on those we had bought. + +Darkness was enveloping the forest when we finished supper. I fell +into my bed and, despite the throbbing and burning of my wrist, +soon lapsed into slumber. And I crawled out next morning late for +breakfast, stiff, worn out, crippled, but happy. Six lions roaring a +concert for me was quite conducive to contentment. + +Emett interestingly engaged himself on a new pair of trousers, which +he had contrived to produce from two of our empty meal-bags. The lower +half of his overalls had gone to decorate the cedar spikes and brush, +and these new bag-leg trousers, while somewhat remarkable for design, +answered the purpose well enough. Jones' coat was somewhere along the +canyon rim, his shoes were full of holes, his shirt in strips, and his +trousers in rags. Jim looked like a scarecrow. My clothes, being of +heavy waterproofed duck, had stood the hard usage in a manner to bring +forth the unanimous admiration of my companions. + +"Well, fellows," said Jones, "there's six lions, and that's more than +we can pack out of here. Have you had enough hunting? I have." + +"And I," rejoined Emett. + +"Shore you can bet I have," drawled Jim. + +"One more day, boys, and then I've done," said I. "Only one more day!" + +Signs of relief on the faces of my good comrades showed how they took +this evidence of my satisfied ambition. + +I spent all the afternoon with the lions, photographing them, +listening to them spit and growl, watching them fight their chains, +and roll up like balls of fire. From different parts of the forest I +tried to creep unsuspected upon them; but always when I peeped out +from behind a tree or log, every pair of ears would be erect, every +pair of eyes gleaming and suspicious. + +Spitfire afforded more amusement than all the others. He had indeed +the temper of a king; he had been born for sovereignty, not slavery. +To intimidate me he tried every manner of expression and utterance, +and failing, he always ended with a spring in the air to the length of +his chain. This means was always effective. I simply could not stand +still when he leaped; and in turn I tried every artifice I could think +of to make him back away from me, to take refuge behind his tree. I +ran at him with a club as if I were going to kill him. He waited, +crouching. Finally, in dire extremity, I bethought me of a red flannel +hood that Emett had given me, saying I might use it on cold nights. +This was indeed a weird, flaming headgear, falling like a cloak down +over the shoulders. I put it on, and, camera in hand, started to crawl +on all fours toward Spitfire. + +[Illustration: SOME OF OUR MENAGERIE IN BUCKSKIN FOREST] + +[Illustration: WHITE MUSTANG STALLION WITH HIS BUNCH OF BLACKS IN +SNAKE GULCH] + +I needed no one to tell me that this proceeding was entirely beyond +his comprehension. In his astonishment he forgot to spit and growl, +and he backed behind the little pine, from which he regarded me with +growing perplexity. Then, having revenged myself on him, and getting a +picture, I left him in peace. + + +XIV + +I awoke before dawn, and lay watching the dark shadows change into +gray, and gray into light. The Navajo chanted solemnly and low his +morning song. I got up with the keen eagerness of the hunter who faces +the last day of his hunt. + +I warmed my frozen fingers at the fire. A hot breakfast smoked on the +red coals. We ate while Navvy fed and saddled the horses. + +"Shore, they'll be somethin' doin' to-day," said Jim, fatalistically. + +"We haven't crippled a horse yet," put in Emett hopefully. Don led the +pack and us down the ridge, out of the pines into the sage. The sun, a +red ball, glared out of the eastern mist, shedding a dull glow on +the ramparts of the far canyon walls. A herd of white-tailed deer +scattered before the hounds. Blue grouse whirred from under our +horses' feet. + +"Spread out," ordered Jones, and though he meant the hounds, we all +followed his suggestion, as the wisest course. + +Ranger began to work up the sage ridge to the right. Jones, Emett +and I followed, while Jim rode away to the left. Gradually the space +widened, and as we neared the cedars, a sharply defined, deep canyon +separated us. + +We heard Don open up, then Sounder. Ranger left the trail he was +trying to work out in the thick sage, and bounded in the direction of +the rest of the pack. We reined in to listen. + +First Don, then Sounder, then Jude, then one of the pups bayed +eagerly, telling us they were hunting hard. Suddenly the bays blended +in one savage sound. + +"Hi! Hi! Hi!" cracked the cool, thin air. We saw Jim wave his hand +from the far side of the canyon, spur his horse into action, and +disappear into the cedars. + +"Stick close together," yelled Jones, as we launched forward. We made +the mistake of not going back to cross the canyon, for the hounds soon +went up the opposite side. As we rode on and on, the sounds of the +chase lessened, and finally ceased. To our great chagrin we found it +necessary to retrace our steps, and when we did get over the deep +gully, so much time had elapsed that we despaired of coming up with +Jim. Emett led, keeping close on Jim's trail, which showed plain in +the dust, and we followed. + +Up and down ravines, over ridges, through sage flats and cedar +forests, to and fro, around and around, we trailed Jim and the hounds. +From time to time one of us let out a long yell. + +"I see a big lion track," called Jones once, and that stirred us on +faster. Fully an hour passed before Jones halted us, saying we had +best try a signal. I dismounted, while Emett rolled his great voice +through the cedars. + +A long silence ensued. From the depths of the forest Jim's answer +struck faintly on my ear. With a word to my companions I leaped on my +mustang and led the way. I rode as far as I could mark a straight line +with my eye, then stopped to wait for another cry. In this way, slowly +but surely we closed in on Jim. + +We found him on the verge of the Bay, in the small glade where I had +left my horse the day I followed Don alone down the canyon. Jim was +engaged in binding up the leg of his horse. The baying of the hounds +floated up over the rim. + +"What's up?" queried Jones. + +"Old Sultan. That's what," replied Jim. "We run plumb into him. We've +had him in five trees. It ain't been long since he was in that cedar +there. When he jumped the yellow pup was in the way an' got killed. +My horse just managed to jump clear of the big lion, an' as it was, +nearly broke his leg." + +Emett examined the leg and pronounced it badly strained, and advised +Jim to lead the horse back to camp. Jones and I stood a moment over +the remains of the yellow pup, and presently Emett joined us. + +"He was the most playful one of the pack," said Emett, and then he +placed the limp, bloody body in a crack, and laid several slabs of +stone over it. + +"Hurry after the other hounds," said Jim. "That lion will kill them +one by one. An' look out for him!" + +If we needed an incentive, the danger threatening the hounds furnished +one; but I calculated the death of the pup was enough. Emett had a +flare in his eye, Jones looked darker and more grim than ever, and I +had sensations that boded ill to old Sultan. + +"Fellows," I said, "I've been down this place, and I know where the +old brute has gone; so come on." + +I laid aside my coat, chaps and rifle, feeling that the business ahead +was stern and difficult. Then I faced the canyon. Down slopes, among +rocks, under piñons, around yellow walls, along slides, the two big +men followed me with heavy steps. We reached the white stream-bed, +and sliding, slipping, jumping, always down and down, we came at last +within sound of the hounds. We found them baying wildly under a piñon +on the brink of the deep cove. + +Then, at once, we all saw old Sultan close at hand. He was of immense +size; his color was almost gray; his head huge, his paws heavy and +round. He did not spit, nor snarl, nor growl; he did not look at the +hounds, but kept his half-shut eyes upon us. + +We had no time to make a move before he left his perch and hit the +ground with a thud. He walked by the baying hounds, looked over the +brink of the cove, and without an instant of hesitation, leaped down. +The rattling crash of sliding stones came up with a cloud of dust. +Then we saw him leisurely picking his way among the rough stones. + +Exclamations from the three of us attested to what we thought of that +leap. + +"Look the place over," called Jones. "I think we've got him." + +The cove was a hole hollowed out by running water. At its head, where +the perpendicular wall curved, the height was not less than forty +feet. The walls became higher as the cove deepened toward the canyon. +It had a length of perhaps a hundred yards, and a width of perhaps +half as many. The floor was mass on mass of splintered rock. + +"Let the hounds down on a lasso," said Jones. + +Easier said than done! Sounder, Ranger, Jude refused. Old Moze +grumbled and broke away. But Don, stern and savage, allowed Jones to +tie him in a slip noose. + +"It's a shame to send that grand hound to his death," protested Emett. + +"We'll all go down," declared Jones. + +"We can't. One will have to stay up here to help the other two out," +replied Emett. + +"You're the strongest; you stay up," said Jones. "Better work along +the wall and see if you can locate the lion." + +[Illustration: ON THE WAY HOME] + +[Illustration: RIDING WITH A NAVAJO] + +We let Don down into the hole. He kicked himself loose before reaching +the bottom and then, yelping, he went out of sight among the boulders. +Moze, as if ashamed, came whining to us. We slipped a noose around him +and lowered him, kicking and barking, to the rocky floor. Jones made +the lasso fast to a cedar root, and I slid down, like a flash, burning +my hands. Jones swung himself over, wrapped his leg around the rope, +and came down, to hit the ground with a thump. Then, lassos in hands, +we began clambering over the broken fragments. + +For a few moments we were lost to sights and sounds away from our +immediate vicinity. The bottom of the cove afforded hard going. Dead +piñons and cedars blocked our way; the great, jagged stones offered no +passage. We crawled, climbed, and jumped from piece to piece. + +A yell from Emett halted us. We saw him above, on the extreme point of +wall. Waving his arms, he yelled unintelligible commands to us. The +fierce baying of Don and Moze added to our desperate energy. + +The last jumble of splintered rock cleared, we faced a terrible and +wonderful scene. + +"Look! Look!" I gasped to Jones. + +A wide, bare strip of stone lay a few yards beneath us; and in the +center of this last step sat the great lion on his haunches with his +long tail lashing out over the precipice. Back to the canyon, he +confronted the furious hounds; his demeanor had changed to one of +savage apprehension. + +When Jones and I appeared, old Sultan abruptly turned his back to the +hounds and looked down into the canyon. He walked the whole length of +the bare rock with his head stretched over. He was looking for a niche +or a step whereby he might again elude his foes. + +Faster lashed his tail; farther and farther stretched his neck. He +stopped, and with head bent so far over the abyss that it seemed he +must fall, he looked and looked. + +How grandly he fitted the savage sublimity of that place! The +tremendous purple canyon depths lay beneath him. He stood on the last +step of his mighty throne. The great downward slopes had failed him. +Majestically and slowly he turned from the deep that offered no hope. + +As he turned, Jones cast the noose of his lasso perfectly round the +burly neck. Sultan roared and worked his jaws, but he did not leap. +Jones must have expected such a move, for he fastened his rope to a +spur of rock. Standing there, revolver gripped, hearing the baying +hounds, the roaring lion, and Jones' yells mingled with Emett's, I had +no idea what to do. I was in a trance of sensations. + +Old Sultan ran rather than leaped at us. Jones evaded the rush by +falling behind a stone, but still did not get out of danger. Don flew +at the lion's neck and Moze buried his teeth in a flank. Then the +three rolled on the rock dangerously near the verge. + +Bellowing, Jones grasped the lasso and pulled. Still holding my +revolver, I leaped to his assistance, and together we pulled and +jerked. Don got away from the lion with remarkable quickness. But +Moze, slow and dogged, could not elude the outstretched paws, which +fastened in his side and leg. We pulled so hard we slowly raised the +lion. Moze, never whimpering, clawed and scratched at the rock in his +efforts to escape. The lion's red tongue protruded from his dripping +jaws. We heard the rend of hide as our efforts, combined with those of +Moze, loosed him from the great yellow claws. + +The lion, whirling and wrestling, rolled over the precipice. When the +rope straightened with a twang, had it not been fastened to the rock, +Jones and I would have jerked over the wall. The shock threw us to our +knees. + +For a moment we did not realize the situation. Emett's yells awakened +us. + +"Pull! Pull! Pull!" roared he. + +Then, knowing that old Sultan would hang himself in a few moments, we +attempted to lift him. Jones pulled till his back cracked; I pulled +till I saw red before my eyes. Again and again we tried. We could lift +him only a few feet. Soon exhausted, we had to desist altogether. How +Emett roared and raged from his vantage-point above! He could see the +lion in death throes. + +Suddenly he quieted down with the words: "All over; all over!" Then he +sat still, looking into space. Jones sat mopping his brow. And I, all +my hot resentment vanished, lay on the rock, with eyes on the distant +mesas. + +Presently Jones leaned over the verge with my lasso. + +"There," he said, "I've roped one of his hind legs. Now we'll pull him +up a little, then we'll fasten this rope, and pull on the other." + +So, foot by foot, we worked the heavy lion up over the wall. He +must have been dead, though his sides heaved. Don sniffed at him in +disdain. Moze, dusty and bloody, with a large strip of hide hanging +from his flank, came up growling low and deep, and gave the lion a +last vengeful bite. + +"We've been fools," observed Jones, meditatively. "The excitement of +the game made us lose our wits. I'll never rope another lion." + +I said nothing. While Moze licked his bloody leg and Don lay with his +fine head on my knees, Jones began to skin old Sultan. Once more the +strange, infinite silence enfolded the canyon. The far-off golden +walls glistened in the sun; farther down, the purple clefts smoked. +The many-hued peaks and mesas, aloof from each other, rose out of the +depths. It was a grand and gloomy scene of ruin where every glistening +descent of rock was but a page of earth's history. + +It brought to my mind a faint appreciation of what time really meant; +it spoke of an age of former men; it showed me the lonesome crags +of eagles, and the cliff lairs of lions; and it taught mutely, +eloquently, a lesson of life--that men are still savage, still driven +by a spirit to roam, to hunt, and to slay. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +TONTO BASIN + +The start of a camping trip, the getting a big outfit together and +packed, and on the move, is always a difficult and laborsome job. +Nevertheless, for me the preparation and the actual getting under way +have always been matters of thrilling interest. This start of my hunt +in Arizona, September 24, 1918, was particularly momentous because I +had brought my boy Romer with me for his first trip into the wilds. + +It may be that the boy was too young for such an undertaking. His +mother feared he would be injured; his teachers presaged his utter +ruin; his old nurse, with whom he waged war until he was free of her, +averred that the best it could do for him would be to show what kind +of stuff he was made of. His uncle R.C. was stoutly in favor of taking +him. I believe the balance fell in Romer's favor when I remembered +my own boyhood. As a youngster of three I had babbled of "bars an' +buffers," and woven fantastic and marvelous tales of fiction about my +imagined adventures--a habit, alas! I have never yet outgrown. + +Anyway we only made six miles' travel on this September twenty-fourth, +and Romer was with us. + +Indeed he was omnipresent. His keen, eager joy communicated itself to +me. Once he rode up alongside me and said: "Dad, this's great, but I'd +rather do like Buck Duane." The boy had read all of my books, in spite +of parents and teachers, and he knew them by heart, and invariably +liked the outlaws and gunmen best of all. + +We made camp at sunset, with a flare of gold along the west, and the +Peaks rising rosy and clear to the north. We camped in a cut-over pine +forest, where stumps and lopped tops and burned deadfalls made an +aspect of blackened desolation. From a distance, however, the scene +was superb. At sunset there was a faint wind which soon died away. + +My old guide on so many trips across the Painted Desert was in charge +of the outfit. He was a wiry, gray, old pioneer, over seventy years, +hollow-cheeked and bronzed, with blue-gray eyes still keen with fire. +He was no longer robust, but he was tireless and willing. When he told +a story he always began: "In the early days--" His son Lee had charge +of the horses of which we had fourteen, two teams and ten saddle +horses. Lee was a typical westerner of many occupations--cowboy, +rider, rancher, cattleman. He was small, thin, supple, quick, tough +and strong. He had a bronzed face, always chapped, a hooked nose, +gray-blue eyes like his father's, sharp and keen. + +Lee had engaged the only man he could find for a cook--Joe Isbel, a +tall, lithe cowboy, straight as an Indian, with powerful shoulders, +round limbs, and slender waist, and Isbel was what the westerners +called a broncho-buster. He was a prize-winning rider at all +the rodeos. Indeed, his seat in the saddle was individual and +incomparable. He had a rough red-blue face, hard and rugged, like the +rocks he rode over so fearlessly, and his eyes were bright hazel, +steady and hard. Isbel's vernacular was significant. Speaking of one +of our horses he said: "Like a mule he'll be your friend for twenty +years to git a chance to kick you." Speaking of another that had to be +shod he said: "Shore, he'll step high to-morrow." Isbel appeared to be +remarkably efficient as camp-rustler and cook, but he did not inspire +me with confidence. In speaking of this to the Doyles I found them +non-committal on the subject. Westerners have sensitive feelings. I +could not tell whether they were offended or not, and I half regretted +mentioning my lack of confidence in Isbel. As it turned out, however, +I was amply justified. + +Sievert Nielsen, whom I have mentioned elsewhere, was the fourth of my +men. + +Darkness had enveloped us at supper time. I was tired out, but the +red-embered camp-fire, the cool air, the smell of wood-smoke, and the +white stars kept me awake awhile. Romer had to be put to bed. He was +wild with excitement. We had had a sleeping-bag made for him so that +once snugly in it, with the flaps buckled he could not kick off the +blankets. When we got him into it he quieted down and took exceeding +interest in his first bed in the open. He did not, however, go quickly +to sleep. Presently he called R.C. over and whispered: "Say, Uncle +Rome, I coiled a lasso an' put it under Nielsen's bed. When he's +asleep you go pull it. He's tenderfoot like Dad was. He'll think it's +a rattlesnake." This trick Romer must have remembered from reading +"The Last of the Plainsmen," where I related what Buffalo Jones' +cowboys did to me. Once Romer got that secret off his mind he fell +asleep. + +The hour we spent sitting around the camp-fire was the most pleasant +of that night, though I did not know it then. The smell of wood-smoke +and the glow of live coals stirred memories of other camp-fires. I was +once more enveloped by the sweetness and peace of the open, listening +to the sigh of the wind, and the faint tinkle of bells on the hobbled +horses. + +An uncomfortable night indeed it turned out to be. Our covers were +scanty and did not number among them any blankets. The bed was hard as +a rock, and lumpy. No sleep! As the night wore on the air grew colder, +and I could not keep warm. At four a.m. I heard the howling of +coyotes--a thrilling and well remembered wild chorus. After that +perfect stillness reigned. Presently I saw the morning star--big, +blue-white, beautiful. Uncomfortable hours seemed well spent if the +reward was sight of the morning star. How few people ever see it! How +very few ever get a glimpse of it on a desert dawn! + +Just then, about five-thirty, Romer woke up and yelled lustily: "Dad! +My nose's froze." This was a signal for me to laugh, and also to rise +heroically. Not difficult because I wanted to stay in bed, but because +I could hardly crawl out! Soon we had a fire roaring. At six the dawn +was still gray. Cold and nipping air, frost on everything, pale stars, +a gold-red light in the east were proofs that I was again in the open. +Soon a rose-colored flush beautified the Peaks. + +After breakfast we had trouble with the horses. This always happened. +But it was made worse this morning because a young cowboy who happened +along took upon himself the task of helping Lee. I suspected he wanted +to show off a little. In throwing his lasso to rope one, the noose +went over the heads of two. Then he tried to hold both animals. They +dragged him, pulled the lasso out of his hands, and stampeded the +other horses. These two roped together thundered off with the noose +widening. I was afraid they would split round a tree or stump, but +fortunately the noose fell off one. As all the horses pounded off I +heard Romer remark to Isbel: "Say, Joe, I don't see any medals on that +cowboy." Isbel roared, and said: "Wal, Romer, you shore hit the nail, +on the haid!" + +Owing to that stampede we did not get saddled and started till eleven +o'clock. At first I was so sore and stiff from the hard bed that I +rode a while on the wagon with Doyle. Many a mile I had ridden with +him, and many a story he had related. This time he told about sitting +on a jury at Prescott where they brought in as evidence bloody shirts, +overalls, guns, knives, until there was such a pile that the table +would not hold them. Doyle was a mine of memories of the early days. + +Romer's mount was a little black, white-spotted horse named Rye. Lee +Doyle had scoured the ranches to get this pony for the youngster. Rye +was small for a horse, about the size of an Indian mustang, and he +was gentle, as well as strong and fast. Romer had been given riding +lessons all that summer in the east, and upon his arrival at Flagstaff +he informed me that he could ride. I predicted he would be in the +wagon before noon of the second day out. He offered to bet on it. +I told him I disapproved of betting. He seemed to me to be daring, +adaptable, self-willed; and I was divided between pride and anxiety as +to the outcome of this trip for him. + +In the afternoon we reached Lake Mary, a long, ugly, muddy pond in a +valley between pine-slopes. Dead and ghastly trees stood in the water, +and the shores were cattle-tracked. Probably to the ranchers this +mud-hole was a pleasing picture, but to me, who loved the beauty of +the desert before its productiveness, it was hideous. When we passed +Lake Mary, and farther on the last of the cut-over timber-land, we +began to get into wonderful country. We traveled about sixteen miles, +rather a small day's ride. Romer stayed on his horse all through that +ride, and when we selected a camp site for the night he said to me: +"Well, you're lucky you wouldn't bet." + +Camp that evening was in a valley with stately pines straggling down +to the level. On the other slope the pines came down in groups. The +rim of this opposite slope was high, rugged, iron-colored, with cracks +and holes. Before supper I walked up the slope back of our camp, to +come upon level, rocky ground for a mile, then pines again leading to +a low, green mountain with lighter patches of aspen. The level, open +strip was gray in color. Arizona color and Arizona country! Gray of +sage, rocks, pines, cedars, piñons, heights and depths and plains, +wild and open and lonely--that was Arizona. + +That night I obtained some rest and sleep, lying awake only a few +hours, during which time I turned from side to side to find a soft +place in the hard bed. Under such circumstances I always thought +of the hard beds of the Greeks and the Spartans. Next day we rode +twenty-three miles. On horseback trips like this it was every one for +himself. Sometimes we would be spread out, all separated; at others we +would be bunched; and again we would ride in couples. The morning was +an ordeal for me, as at first I could scarcely sit my saddle; in +the afternoon, however, riding grew to be less severe. The road led +through a winding, shallow valley, with clumps of pine here and there, +and cedars on the slopes. Romer rode all the way, half the time with +his feet out of the stirrups, like a western boy born to the saddle, +and he wanted to go fast all the time. Camp was made at a place called +Fulton Spring. It might have been a spring once, but now it was a +mud-hole with a dead cow lying in it. Clear, cold water is necessary +to my pleasure, if not to my health. I have lived on sheep water--the +water holes being tainted by sheep--and alkali water and soapy water +of the desert, but never happily. How I hailed the clear, cold, +swiftly-flowing springs! + +This third camp lay in a woods where the pines were beautiful and the +silence noticeable. Upon asking Romer to enumerate the things I had +called to his attention, the few times I could catch up with him on +the day's journey, he promptly replied--two big spiders--tarantulas, +a hawk, and Mormon Lake. This lake was another snow-melted mud-hole, +said to contain fish. I doubted that. Perhaps the little bull-head +catfish might survive in such muddy water, but I did not believe bass +or perch could. + +One familiar feature of Arizona travel manifested itself to me that +day--the dry air. My nails became brittle and my lips began to crack. +I have had my lips cracked so severely that when I tried to bite bread +they would split and bleed and hurt so that I could not eat. This +matter of sore lips was for long a painful matter. I tried many +remedies, and finally found one, camphor ice, that would prevent the +drying and cracking. + +Next day at dawn the forest was full of the soughing of wind in the +pines--a wind that presaged storm. No stars showed. Romer-boy piled +out at six o'clock. I had to follow him. The sky was dark and cloudy. +Only a faint light showed in the east and it was just light enough +to see when we ate breakfast. Owing to strayed horses we did not get +started till after nine o'clock. + +Five miles through the woods, gradually descending, led us into an +open plain where there was a grass-bordered pond full of ducks. Here +appeared an opportunity to get some meat. R.C. tried with shotgun and +I with rifle, all to no avail. These ducks were shy. Romer seemed to +evince some disdain at our failure, but he did not voice his feelings. +We found some wild-turkey tracks, and a few feathers, which put our +hopes high. + +Crossing the open ground we again entered the forest, which gradually +grew thicker as we got down to a lower altitude. Oak trees began to +show in swales. And then we soon began to see squirrels, big, plump, +gray fellows, with bushy tails almost silver. They appeared wilder +than we would have suspected, at that distance from the settlements. +Romer was eager to hunt them, and with his usual persistence, +succeeded at length in persuading his uncle to do so. + +To that end we rode out far ahead of the wagon and horses. Lee had a +yellow dog he called Pups, a close-haired, keen-faced, muscular canine +to which I had taken a dislike. To be fair to Pups, I had no reason +except that he barked all the time. Pups and his barking were destined +to make me hail them both with admiration and respect, but I had no +idea of that then. Now this dog of Lee's would run ahead of us, +trail squirrels, chase them, and tree them, whereupon he would bark +vociferously. Sometimes up in the bushy top we would fail to spy the +squirrel, but we had no doubt one was there. Romer wasted many and +many a cartridge of the .22 Winchester trying to hit a squirrel. He +had practiced a good deal, and was a fairly good shot for a youngster, +but hitting a little gray ball of fur high on a tree, or waving at the +tip of a branch, was no easy matter. + +"Son," I said, "you don't take after your Dad." + +And his uncle tried the lad's temper by teasing him about Wetzel. Now +Wetzel, the great Indian killer of frontier days, was Romer's favorite +hero. + +"Gimme the .20 gauge," finally cried Romer, in desperation, with his +eyes flashing. + +Whereupon his uncle handed him the shotgun, with a word of caution +as to the trigger. This particular squirrel was pretty high up, +presenting no easy target. Romer stood almost directly under it, +raised the gun nearly straight up, waved and wobbled and hesitated, +and finally fired. Down sailed the squirrel to hit with a plump. That +was Romer's first successful hunting experience. How proud he was of +that gray squirrel! I suffered a pang to see the boy so radiant, so +full of fire at the killing of a beautiful creature of the woods. Then +again I remembered my own first sensations. Boys are blood-thirsty +little savages. In their hunting, playing, even their reading, some +element of the wild brute instinct dominates them. They are worthy +descendants of progenitors who had to fight and kill to live. This +incident furnished me much food for reflection. I foresaw that before +this trip was ended I must face some knotty problems. I hated to shoot +a squirrel even when I was hungry. Probably that was because I was not +hungry enough. A starving man suffers no compunctions at the spilling +of blood. On the contrary he revels in it with a fierce, primitive +joy. + +"Some shot, I'll say!" declared Romer to his uncle, loftily. And he +said to me half a dozen times: "Say, Dad, wasn't it a grand peg?" + +But toward the end of that afternoon his enthusiasm waned for +shooting, for anything, especially riding. He kept asking when the +wagon was going to stop. Once he yelled out: "Here's a peach of a +place to camp." Then I asked him: "Romer, are you tired?" "Naw! But +what's the use ridin' till dark?" At length he had to give up and be +put on the wagon. The moment was tragic for him. Soon, however, he +brightened at something Doyle told him, and began to ply the old +pioneer with rapid-fire questions. + +We pitched camp in an open flat, gray and red with short grass, and +sheltered by towering pines on one side. Under these we set up our +tents. The mat of pine needles was half a foot thick, soft and springy +and fragrant. The woods appeared full of slanting rays of golden +sunlight. + +This day we had supper over before sunset. Romer showed no effects +from his long, hard ride. First he wanted to cook, then he fooled +around the fire, bothering Isbel. I had a hard time to manage him. +He wanted to be eternally active. He teased and begged to go +hunting--then he compromised on target practice. R.C. and I, however, +were too tired, and we preferred to rest beside the camp-fire. + +"Look here, kid," said R.C., "save something for to-morrow." + +In disgust Romer replied: "Well, I suppose if a flock of antelope came +along here you wouldn't move.... You an' Dad are great hunters, I +don't think!" + +After the lad had gone over to the other men R.C. turned to me and +said reflectively: "Does he remind you of us when we were little?" + +To which I replied with emotion: "In him I live over again!" + +That is one of the beautiful things about children, so full of pathos +and some strange, stinging joy--they bring back the days that are no +more. + +This evening, despite my fatigue, I was the last one to stay up. My +seat was most comfortable, consisting of thick folds of blankets +against a log. How the wind mourned in the trees! How the camp-fire +sparkled, glowed red and white! Sometimes it seemed full of blazing +opals. Always it held faces. And stories--more stories than I can ever +tell! Once I was stirred and inspired by the beautiful effect of the +pine trees in outline against the starry sky when the camp-fire +blazed up. The color of the foliage seemed indescribably blue-green, +something never seen by day. Every line shone bright, graceful, +curved, rounded, and all thrown with sharp relief against the sky. How +magical, exquisitely delicate and fanciful! The great trunks were +soft serrated brown, and the gnarled branches stood out in perfect +proportions. All works of art must be copied of nature. + +Next morning early, while Romer slept, and the men had just begun to +stir, I went apart from the camp out into the woods. All seemed solemn +and still and cool, with the aisles of the forest brown and green and +gold. I heard an owl, perhaps belated in his nocturnal habit. Then to +my surprise I heard wild canaries. They were flying high, and to the +south, going to their winter quarters. I wandered around among big, +gray rocks and windfalls and clumps of young oak and majestic pines. +More than one saucy red squirrel chattered at me. + +When I returned to camp my comrades were at breakfast. Romer appeared +vastly relieved to see that I had not taken a gun with me. + +This morning we got an early start. We rode for hours through a +beautiful shady forest, where a fragrant breeze in our faces made +riding pleasant. Large oaks and patches of sumach appeared on the +rocky slopes. We descended a good deal in this morning's travel, and +the air grew appreciably warmer. The smell of pine was thick and +fragrant; the sound of wind was sweet and soughing. Everywhere pine +needles dropped, shining in the sunlight like thin slants of rain. + +Only once or twice did I see Romer in all these morning hours; then he +was out in front with the cowboy Isbel, riding his black pony over +all the logs and washes he could find. I could see his feet sticking +straight out almost even with his saddle. He did not appear to need +stirrups. My fears gradually lessened. + +During the afternoon the ride grew hot, and very dusty. We came to a +long, open valley where the dust lay several inches deep. It had been +an unusually dry summer and fall--a fact that presaged poor luck for +our hunting--and the washes and stream-beds were bleached white. We +came to two water-holes, tanks the Arizonians called them, and they +were vile mud-holes with green scum on the water. The horses drank, +but I would have had to be far gone from thirst before I would have +slaked mine there. We faced west with the hot sun beating on us and +the dust rising in clouds. No wonder that ride was interminably long. + +At last we descended a canyon, and decided to camp in a level spot +where several ravines met, in one of which a tiny stream of dear water +oozed out of the gravel. The inclosure was rocky-sloped, full of caves +and covered with pines; and the best I could say for it was that in +case of storm the camp would be well protected. We shoveled out a deep +hole in the gravel, so that it would fill up with water. Romer had +evidently enjoyed himself this day. When I asked Isbel about him the +cowboy's hard face gleamed with a smile: "Shore thet kid's all right. +He'll make a cowpuncher!" His remark pleased me. In view of Romer's +determination to emulate the worst bandit I ever wrote about I was +tremendously glad to think of him as a cowboy. But as for myself I was +tired, and the ride had been rather unprofitable, and this camp-site, +to say the least, did not inspire me. It was neither wild nor +beautiful nor comfortable. I went early to bed and slept like a log. + +The following morning some of our horses were lost. The men hunted +from daylight till ten o'clock. Then it was that I learned more about +Lee's dog Pups. At ten-thirty Lee came in with the lost horses. They +had hidden in a clump of cedars and remained perfectly quiet, as cute +as deer. Lee put Pups on their trail. Pups was a horse-trailing dog +and he soon found them. I had a change of feeling for Pups, then and +there. + +[Illustration: THE AUTHOR AND HIS MEN. From left to right: Edd Haught; +Nielsen; Haught, the bear hunter; Al Doyle, pioneer Arizona guide; +Lewis Pyle; Z.G.; George Haught; Ben Copple; Lee Doyle.] + +The sun was high and hot when we rode off. The pleasant and dusty +stretches alternated. About one o'clock we halted on the edge of a deep +wooded ravine to take our usual noonday rest. I scouted along the edge +in the hope of seeing game of some kind. Presently I heard the +cluck-cluck of turkeys. Slipping along to an open place I peered down to +be thrilled by sight of four good-sized turkeys. They were walking along +the open strip of dry stream-bed at the bottom of the ravine. One was +chasing grasshoppers. They were fairly close. I took aim at one, and +thought I could have hit him, but suddenly I remembered Romer and R.C. +So I slipped back and called them. + +[Illustration: ROMER-BOY ON HIS FAVORITE STEED] + +Hurriedly and stealthily we returned to the point where I had seen +the turkeys. Romer had a pale face and wonderfully bright eyes; his +actions resembled those of a stalking Indian. The turkeys were farther +down, but still in plain sight. I told R.C. to take the boy and slip +down, and run and hide and run till they got close enough for a shot. +I would keep to the edge of the ravine. + +Some moments later I saw R.C. and the boy running and stooping and +creeping along the bottom of the ravine. Then I ran myself to reach a +point opposite the turkeys, so in case they flew uphill I might get a +shot. But I did not see them, and nothing happened. I lost sight of +the turkeys. Hurrying back to where I had tied my horse I mounted him +and loped ahead and came out upon the ravine some distance above. Here +I hunted around for a little while. Once I heard the report of the .20 +gauge, and then several rifle shots. Upon returning I found that Lee +and Nielsen had wasted some shells. R.C. and Romer came wagging up the +hill, both red and wet and tired. R.C. carried a small turkey, about +the size of a chicken. He told me, between pants, that they chased the +four large turkeys, and were just about to get a shot when up jumped a +hen-turkey with a flock of young ones. They ran every way. He got one. +Then he told me, between more pants and some laughs, that Romer +had chased the little turkeys all over the ravine, almost catching +several. Romer said for himself: "I just almost pulled feathers out of +their tails. Gee! if I'd had a gun!" + +We resumed our journey. About the middle of the afternoon Doyle called +my attention to an opening in the forest through which I could see the +yellow-walled rim of the mesa, and the great blue void below. Arizona! +That explained the black forests, the red and yellow cliffs of rock, +the gray cedars, the heights and depths. + +Lop? ride indeed was it down off the mesa. The road was winding, rough +full of loose rocks and dusty. We were all tired out trying to keep up +with the wagon. Romer, however, averred time and again that he was +not tired. Still I saw him often shift his seat from one side of the +saddle to the other. + +At last we descended to a comparative level and came to a little +hamlet. Like all Mormon villages it had quaint log cabins, low stone +houses, an irrigation ditch running at the side of the road, orchards, +and many rosy-cheeked children. We lingered there long enough to rest +a little and drink our fill of the cold granite water. I would travel +out of my way to get a drink of water that came from granite rock. + +About five o'clock we left for the Natural Bridge. Romer invited or +rather taunted me to a race. When it ended in his victory I found +that I had jolted my rifle out of its saddle sheath. I went back some +distance to look for it, but did so in vain. Isbel said he would ride +back in the morning and find it. + +The country here appeared to be on a vast scale. But that was only +because we had gotten out where we could see all around. Arizona is +all on a grand, vast scale. Mountain ranges stood up to the south and +east. North loomed up the lofty, steep rim of the Mogollon Mesa, with +its cliffs of yellow and red, and its black line of timber. Westward +lay fold on fold of low cedar-covered hills. The valley appeared a +kind of magnificent bowl, rough and wild, with the distance lost +in blue haze. The vegetation was dense and rather low. I saw both +prickly-pear and mescal cactus, cedars, manzanita brush, scrub oak, +and juniper trees. These last named were very beautiful, especially +the smaller ones, with their gray-green foliage, and purple berries, +and black and white checkered bark. There were no pine trees. Since we +had left the rim above the character of plant life had changed. + +We crossed the plateau leading to the valley where the Natural Bridge +was located. A winding road descended the east side of this valley. +A rancher lived down there. Green of alfalfa and orchard and walnut +trees contrasted vividly with a bare, gray slope on one side, and a +red, rugged mountain on the other. A deep gorge showed dark and wild. +At length, just after sunset, we reached the ranch, and rode through +orchards of peach and pear and apple trees, all colored with fruit, +and down through grassy meadows to a walnut grove where we pitched +camp. By the time we had supper it was dark. Wonderful stars, thick, +dreamy hum of insects, murmur of swift water, a rosy and golden +afterglow on the notch of the mountain range to the west--these were +inducements to stay up, but I was so tired I had to go to bed, where +my eyelids fell tight, as if pleasantly weighted. + +After the long, hard rides and the barren camp-sites what delight to +awaken in this beautiful valley with the morning cool and breezy and +bright, with smell of new-mown hay from the green and purple alfalfa +fields, and the sunlight gilding the jagged crags above! Romer made a +bee-line for the peach trees. He beat his daddy only a few yards. The +kind rancher had visited us the night before and he had told us to +help ourselves to fruit, melons, alfalfa. Needless to state that I +made my breakfast on peaches! + +I trailed the swift, murmuring stream to its source on the dark green +slope where there opened up a big hole bordered by water-cress, long +grass, and fragrant mint. This spring was one of perfectly clear +water, six feet deep, boiling up to bulge on the surface. A grass of +dark color and bunches of light green plant grew under the surface. +Bees and blue dragon-flies hummed around and frogs as green as the +grass blinked with jewelled eyes from the wet margins. The spring had +a large volume that spilled over its borders with low, hollow gurgle, +with fresh, cool splash. The water was soft, tasting of limestone. +Here was the secret of the verdure and fragrance and color and beauty +and life of the oasis. + +It was also the secret of the formation of the wonderful Natural +Bridge. Part of the rancher's cultivated land, to the extent of +several acres, was the level top of this strange bridge. A meadow of +alfalfa and a fine vineyard, in the air, like the hanging gardens of +Babylon! The natural bridge spanned a deep gorge, at the bottom of +which flowed a swift stream of water. Geologically this tremendous +arch of limestone cannot be so very old. In comparatively recent times +an earthquake or some seismic disturbance or some other natural force +caused a spring of water to burst from the slope above the gorge. It +ran down, of course, over the rim. The lime salt in the water was +deposited, and year by year and age by age advanced toward the +opposite side until a bridge crossed the gorge. The swift stream at +the bottom kept the opening clear under the bridge. + +A winding trail led deep down on the lower side of this wonderful +natural span. It showed the cliffs of limestone, porous, craggy, +broken, chalky. At the bottom the gorge was full of tremendous +boulders, water-worn ledges, sycamore and juniper trees, red and +yellow flowers, and dark, beautiful green pools. I espied tiny gray +frogs, reminding me of those I found in the gulches of the Grand +Canyon. Many huge black beetles, some alive, but most of them dead, +lined the wet borders of the pools. A species of fish that resembled +mullet lay in the shadow of the rocks. + +From underneath the Natural Bridge showed to advantage, and if not +magnificent like the grand Nonnezoshe of Utah, it was at least +striking and beautiful. It had a rounded ceiling colored gray, yellow, +green, bronze, purple, white, making a crude and scalloped mosaic. +Water dripped from it like a rain of heavy scattered drops. The left +side was dryest and large, dark caves opened up, one above the other, +the upper being so high that it was dangerous to attempt reaching it. +The right side was slippery and wet. All rocks were thickly encrusted +with lime salt. Doyle told us that any object left under the ceaseless +drip, drip of the lime water would soon become encrusted, and heavy as +stone. The upper opening of the arch was much higher and smaller than +the lower. Any noise gave forth strange and sepulchral echoes. Romer +certainly made the welkin ring. A streak of sunlight shone through a +small hole in the thinnest part of the roof. Doyle pointed out the +high cave where Indians had once lived, showing the markings of their +fire. Also he told a story of Apaches being driven into the highest +cave from which they had never escaped. This tale was manifestly to +Romer's liking and I had to use force to keep him from risking his +neck. A very strong breeze blew under the arch. When we rolled a +boulder into the large, dark pool it gave forth a hollow boom, boom, +boom, growing hollower the deeper it went. I tried to interest Romer +in some bat nests in crevices high up, but the boy wanted to roll +stones and fish for the mullet. When we climbed out and were once more +on a level I asked him what he thought of the place. "Some hole--I'll +say!" he panted, breathlessly. + +The rancher told me that the summer rains began there about July, and +the snows about the first of the year. Snow never lay long on the +lower slopes. Apaches had lived there forty years ago and had +cultivated the soil. There was gold in the mountains of the Four Peaks +Range. In this sheltered nook the weather was never severely cold or +hot; and I judged from the quaint talk of the rancher's wife that life +there was always afternoon. + +Next day we rode from Natural Bridge to Payson in four and a half +hours. Payson appeared to be an old hamlet, retaining many frontier +characteristics such as old board and stone houses with high fronts, +hitching posts and pumps on sidewalks, and one street so wide that it +resembled a Mexican plaza. Payson contained two stores, where I hoped +to buy a rifle, and hoped in vain. I had not recovered my lost gun, +and when night came my prospects of anything to hunt with appeared +extremely slim. But we had visitors, and one of them was a stalwart, +dark-skinned rider named Copple, who introduced himself by saying he +would have come a good way to meet the writer of certain books he had +profited by. When he learned of the loss of my rifle and that I could +not purchase one anywhere he pressed upon me his own. I refused with +thanks, but he would not take no. The upshot of it was that he lent +me his .30 Government Winchester, and gave me several boxes of +ammunition. Also he presented me with a cowhide lasso. Whereupon +Romer-boy took a shine to Copple at once. "Say, you look like an +Indian," he declared. With a laugh Copple replied: "I am part Indian, +sonny." Manifestly that settled his status with Romer, for he piped +up: "So's Dad part Indian. You'd better come huntin' with us." + +We had for next day to look forward to the longest and hardest ride of +the journey in, and in order to make it and reach a good camping site +I got up at three o'clock in the morning to rout everybody out. It +was pitch dark until we kindled fires. Then everybody rustled to such +purpose that we were ready to start before dawn, and had to wait a +little for light enough to see where we were going. This procedure +tickled Romer immensely. I believed he imagined he was in a pioneer +caravan. The gray breaking of dawn, the coming of brighter light, the +rose and silver of the rising sun, and the riding in its face, with +the air so tangy and nipping, were circumstances that inspired me as +the adventurous start pleased Romer. The brush and cactus-lined road +was rough, up hill and down, with ever increasing indications that +it was seldom used. From the tops of high points I could see black +foothills, round, cone-shaped, flat-topped, all leading the gaze +toward the great yellow and red wall of the mesa, with its fringed +borderline, wild and beckoning. + +We walked our horses, trotted, loped, and repeated the order, over +and over, hour by hour, mile after mile, under a sun that burned +our faces and through choking dust. The washes and stream-beds were +bleached and dry; the brush was sear and yellow and dust laden; the +mescal stalks seemed withered by hot blasts. Only the manzanita looked +fresh. That smooth red-branched and glistening green-leafed plant +of the desert apparently flourished without rain. On all sides the +evidences of extreme drought proved the year to be the dreaded _anno +seco_ of the Mexicans. + +For ten hours we rode without a halt before there was any prominent +change in the weary up- and down-hill going, in the heat and dust and +brush-walled road. But about the middle of the afternoon we reached +the summit of the longest hill, from which we saw ahead of us a cut up +country, wild and rugged and beautiful, with pine-sloped canyon at our +feet. We heard the faint murmur of running water. Hot, dusty, wet with +sweat, and thirsty as sheep, we piled down that steep slope as fast +as we dared. Our horses did not need urging. At the bottom we plunged +into a swift stream of clear, cold water--granite water--to drink of +which, and to bathe hot heads and burning feet, was a joy only known +to the weary traveler of the desert. Romer yelled that the water was +like that at our home in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and he drank +till I thought he would burst, and then I had to hold him to keep him +from wallowing in it. + +Here we entered a pine forest. Heat and dust stayed with us, and the +aches and pains likewise, but the worst of them lay behind. Every mile +grew shadier, clearer, cooler. + +Nielsen happened to fall in and ride beside me for several miles, +as was often his wont. The drink of water stirred him to an Homeric +recital of one of his desert trips in Sonora, at the end of which, +almost dead of thirst, he had suddenly come upon such a stream as the +one we had just passed. Then he told me about his trips down the west +coast of Sonora, along the Gulf, where he traveled at night, at low +tide, so that by daytime his footprints would be washed out. This +was the land of the Seri Indians. Undoubtedly these Indians were +cannibals. I had read considerable about them, much of which ridiculed +the rumors of their cannibalistic traits. This of course had been of +exceeding interest to me, because some day I meant to go to the land +of the Seris. But not until 1918 did I get really authentic data +concerning them. Professor Bailey of the University of California told +me he had years before made two trips to the Gulf, and found the Seris +to be the lowest order of savages he knew of. He was positive that +under favorable circumstances they would practice cannibalism. Nielsen +made four trips down there. He claimed the Seris were an ugly tribe. +In winter they lived on Tiburon Island, off which boats anchored on +occasions, and crews and fishermen and adventurers went ashore to +barter with the Indians. These travelers did not see the worst of the +Seris. In summer they range up the mainland, and they go naked. They +do not want gold discovered down there. They will fight prospectors. +They use arrows and attack at dawn. Also they poison the water-holes. + +Nielsen told of some men who were massacred by Seris on the mainland +opposite Tiburon Island. One man, who had gone away from camp, +returned to hear the attack upon his companions. He escaped and made +his way to Gyamus. Procuring assistance this man returned to the scene +of the massacre, only to find stakes in the sand, with deep trails +tramped around them, and blackened remains of fires, and bones +everywhere. Nielsen went on to say that once from a hiding place he +had watched Seris tear up and devour a dead turtle that he afterward +ascertained was putrid. He said these Seris were the greatest runners +of all desert savages. The best of them could outrun a horse. One +Seri, a giant seven feet tall, could outrun a deer and break its neck +with his hands. + +These statements of Nielsen's were remarkable, and personally I +believed them. Men of his stamp were honest and they had opportunities +to learn strange and terrible facts in nature. The great naturalist +Darwin made rather stronger claims for the barbarism of the savages of +Terra del Fuego. Nielsen, pursuing his theme, told me how he had +seen, with his own eyes--and they were certainly sharp and +intelligent--Yaqui Indians leap on the bare backs of wild horses +and locking their legs, stick there in spite of the mad plunges and +pitches. The Gauchos of the Patagonian Pampas were famous for that +feat of horsemanship. I asked Joe Isbel what he thought of such +riding. And he said: "Wal, I can ride a wild steer bare-back, +but excoose me from tacklin' a buckin' bronch without saddle an' +stirrups." This coming from the acknowledged champion horseman of the +southwest was assuredly significant. + +At five o'clock we came to the end of the road. It led to a forest +glade, overlooking the stream we had followed, and that was as far as +our wagon could go. The glade shone red with sumach, and surrounded +by tall pines, with a rocky and shady glen below, it appeared a +delightful place to camp. As I was about to unsaddle my horses I heard +the cluck-cluck of turkeys. Pulling out my borrowed rifle, and calling +Romer, I ran to the edge of the glade. The shady, swift stream ran +fifty feet or so below me. Across it I saw into the woods where shade +and gray rocks and colored brush mingled. Again I heard the turkeys +cluck. "Look hard, son," I whispered. "They're close." R.C. came +slipping along below us, with his rifle ready. Suddenly Romer +stiffened, then pointed. "There! Dad!--There!" I saw two gobblers wade +into the brook not more than a hundred and fifty feet away. Drawing +down with fine aim I fired. The bullet splashed water all over the +turkeys. One with loud whirr of wings flew away. The other leaped +across the brook and ran--swift as a deer--right up the slope. As +I tried to get the sight on him I heard other turkeys fly, and the +crack-crack of R.C.'s gun. I shot twice at my running turkey, and all +I did was to scatter the dirt over him, and make him run faster. R.C. +had not done any better shooting. Romer, wonderful to relate, was so +excited that he forgot to make fun of our marksmanship. We scouted +around some, but the turkeys had gone. By promising to take Romer +hunting after supper I contrived to get him back to the glade, where +we made camp. + + +II + +After we had unpacked and while the men were pitching the tents and +getting supper I took Romer on a hunt up the creek. I was considerably +pleased to see good-sized trout in the deeper pools. A little way +above camp the creek forked. As the right-hand branch appeared to be +larger and more attractive we followed its course. Soon the bustle +of camp life and the sound of the horses were left far behind. Romer +slipped along beside me stealthily as an Indian, all eyes and ears. + +We had not traveled thus for a quarter of a mile when my quick ear +caught the cluck-cluck of turkeys. "Listen," I whispered, halting. +Romer became like a statue, his dark eyes dilating, his nostrils +quivering, his whole body strung. He was a Zane all right. A turkey +called again; then another answered. Romer started, and nodded his +head vehemently. + +"Come on now, right behind me," I whispered. "Step where I step and do +what I do. Don't break any twigs." + +Cautiously we glided up the creek, listening now and then to get the +direction, until we came to an open place where we could see some +distance up a ridge. The turkey clucks came from across the creek +somewhere up this open aisle of the forest. I crawled ahead several +rods to a more advantageous point, much pleased to note that Romer +kept noiselessly at my heels. Then from behind a stone we peeped out. +Almost at once a turkey flew down from a tree into the open lane. +"Look Dad!" whispered Romer, wildly. I had to hold him down. "That's a +hen turkey," I said. "See, it's small and dull-colored. The gobblers +are big, shiny, and they have red on their heads." + +Another hen turkey flew down from a rather low height. Then I made out +grapevines, and I saw several animated dark patches among them. As I +looked three turkeys flopped down to the ground. One was a gobbler of +considerable size, with beautiful white and bronze feathers. Rather +suspiciously he looked down our way. The distance was not more than a +hundred yards. I aimed at him, feeling as I did so how Romer quivered +beside me, but I had no confidence in Copple's rifle. The sights were +wrong for me. The stock did not fit me. So, hoping for a closer and +better shot, I let this opportunity pass. Of course I should have +taken it. The gobbler clucked and began to trot up the ridge, with the +others after him. They were not frightened, but they appeared rather +suspicious. When they disappeared in the woods Romer and I got up, and +hurried in pursuit. "Gee! why didn't you peg that gobbler?" broke out +Romer, breathlessly. "Wasn't he a peach?" + +When we reached the top of the ridge we advanced very cautiously +again. Another open place led to a steep, rocky hillside with cedars +and pines growing somewhat separated. I was disappointed in not seeing +the turkeys. Then in our anxiety and eagerness we hurried on, not +noiselessly by any means. All of a sudden there was a rustle, and then +a great whirr of wings. Three turkeys flew like grouse away into the +woods. Next I saw the white gobbler running up the rocky hillside. At +first he was in the open. Aiming as best I could I waited for him to +stop or hesitate. But he did neither. "Peg him, Dad!" yelled Romer. +The lad was right. My best chance I had again forfeited. To hit a +running wild turkey with a rifle bullet was a feat I had not done +so often as to inspire conceit. The gobbler was wise, too. For that +matter all grown gobblers are as wise as old bucks, except in the +spring mating season, when it is a crime to hunt them. This one, just +as I got a bead on him, always ran behind a rock or tree or shrub. +Finally in desperation I took a snap shot at him, hitting under him, +making him jump. Then in rapid succession I fired four more times. I +had the satisfaction of seeing where my bullets struck up the dust, +even though they did go wide of the mark. After my last shot the +gobbler disappeared. + +"Well, Dad, you sure throwed the dirt over him!" declared Romer. + +"Son, I don't believe I could hit a flock of barns with this gun," I +replied, gazing doubtfully at the old, shiny, wire-wrapped, worn-out +Winchester Copple had lent me. I had been told that he was a fine +marksman and could drive a nail with it. Upon my return to camp I +tried out the rifle, carefully, with a rest, to find that it was not +accurate. Moreover it did not throw the bullets consistently. It shot +high, wide, low; and right there I abandoned any further use for it. +R.C. tried to make me take his rifle to use on the hunting trip; +Nielsen and Lee wanted me to take theirs, but I was disgusted with +myself and refused. "Thanks, boys," I said. "Maybe this will be a +lesson to me." + +We had been up since three o'clock that morning, and the day's travel +had been exhausting. I had just enough energy left to scrape up a +huge, soft pile of pine needles upon which to make our bed. After +that all was oblivion until I was awakened by the ringing strokes of +Nielsen's axe. + +The morning, after the sun got up, was exceedingly delightful. +And this camp was such a contrast to the others, so pleasant and +attractive, that even if we had not arranged to meet Lee Haught and +his sons here I would have stayed a while anyway. Haught was a famed +bear hunter who lived in a log-cabin somewhere up under the rim of the +mesa. While Lee and Nielsen rode off up the trail to find Haught I +gave Romer his first try at rainbow trout. The water of the creek was +low and clear, so that we could see plenty of good-sized trout. But +they were shy. They would not rise readily to any of our flies, though +I got several strikes. We searched under the stones for worms and +secured a few. Whereupon Romer threw a baited hook to a trout we +plainly saw. The trout gobbled it. Romer had been instructed in the +fine art of angling, but whenever he got a bite he always forgot +science. He yanked this ten-inch rainbow right out. Then in another +pool he hooked a big fellow that had ideas of his own as well as +weight and strength. Romer applied the same strenuous tactics. But +this trout nearly pulled Romer off the rock before the line broke. I +took occasion then to deliver to the lad a lecture. In reply he said +tearfully: "I didn't know he was so--so big." + +When we returned to camp, Haught and his sons were there. Even at a +distance their horses, weapons, and persons satisfied my critical +eye. Lee Haught was a tall, spare, superbly built man, with square +shoulders. He had a brown face with deep lines and sunken cheeks, keen +hazel eyes, heavy dark mustache, and hair streaked a little with gray. +The only striking features of his apparel were his black sombrero and +long spurs. + +His sons, Edd and George, were young, lean, sallow, still-faced, +lanky-legged horsemen with clear gray eyes. They did not appear to be +given, to much speech. Both were then waiting for the call of the army +draft. Looking at them then, feeling the tranquil reserve and latent +force of these Arizonians, I reflected that the Germans had failed +in their psychology of American character. A few hundred thousand +Americans like the Haught boys would have whipped the German army. + +We held a council. Haught said he would send his son Edd with Doyle, +and by a long roundabout forest road get the wagon up on the mesa. +With his burros and some of our horses packed we could take part of +the outfit up the creek trail, past his cabin, and climb out on the +rim, where we would find grass, water, wood, and plenty of game. + +The idea of permanent camp before sunset that very day inspired us to +united and vigorous effort. By noon we had the pack train ready. Edd +and Doyle climbed on the wagon to start the other way. Romer waved his +hand: "Good-bye, Mr. Doyle, don't break down and lose the apples!" + +Then we were off, up the narrow trail along the creek. Haught led the +way. Romer attached himself to the bear-hunter, and wherever the trail +was wide enough rode beside him. R.C. and I followed. The other men +fell in behind the pack train. + +The ride was hot, and for the most part all up hill. That basin could +be likened to the ribs of a washboard: it was all hills, gorges, +ridges and ravines. The hollows of this exceedingly rough country were +thick with pine and oak, the ridges covered with cedar, juniper, and +manzanita. The ground, where it was not rocky, was a dry, red clay. We +passed Haught's log cabin and clearing of a few acres, where I saw fat +hogs and cattle. Beyond this point the trail grew more zigzag, and +steeper, and shadier. As we got higher up the air grew cooler. I noted +a change in the timber. The trees grew larger, and other varieties +appeared. We crossed a roaring brook lined by thick, green brush, very +pleasant to the eye, and bronze-gold ferns that were beautiful. We +passed oaks all green and yellow, and maple trees, wonderfully colored +red and cerise. Then still higher up I espied some silver spruces, +most exquisite trees of the mountain forests. + +During the latter half of the climb up to the rim I had to attend to +the business of riding and walking. The trail was rough, steep, and +long. Once Haught called my attention to a flat stone with a plain +trail made by a turtle in ages past when that sandstone was wet, +sedimentary deposit. By and bye we reached the last slopes up to the +mesa, green, with yellow crags and cliffs, and here and there blazing +maples to remind me again that autumn was at hand. + +At last we surmounted the rim, from which I saw a scene that defied +words. It was different from any I had seen before. Black timber as +far as eye could see! Then I saw a vast bowl inclosed by dim mountain +ranges, with a rolling floor of forested ridges, and dark lines I knew +to be canyons. For wild, rugged beauty I had not seen its equal. + +[Illustration: THE TONTO BASIN] + +When the pack train reached the rim we rode on, and now through a +magnificent forest at eight thousand feet altitude. Big white and black +clouds obscured the sun. A thunder shower caught us. There was hail, and +the dry smell of dust, and a little cold rain. Romer would not put on +his slicker. Haught said the drought had been the worst he had seen in +twenty years there. Up in this odorous forestland I could not see where +there had been lack of rain. The forest appeared thick, grassy, gold and +yellow and green and brown. Thickets and swales of oaks and aspens were +gorgeous in their autumn hues. The silver spruces sent down long, +graceful branches that had to be brushed aside or stooped under as we +rode along. Big gray squirrels with white tails and tufted ears ran up +trees to perch on limbs and watch us go by; and other squirrels, much +smaller and darker gray, frisked and chattered and scolded at a great +rate. + +[Illustration: LISTENING FOR THE HOUNDS] + +We passed little depressions that ran down into ravines, and these, +Haught informed me, were the heads of canyons that sloped away from +the rim, deepening and widening for miles. The rim of the mesa was +its highest point, except here and there a few elevations like Black +Butte. Geologically this mesa was an enormous fault, like the north +rim of the Grand Canyon. During the formation of the earth, or the +hardening of the crust, there had been a crack or slip, so that one +edge of the crust stood up sheer above the other. We passed the heads +of Leonard Canyon, Gentry, and Turkey Canyons, and at last, near +time of sunset, headed down into beautifully colored, pine-sloped, +aspen-thicketed Beaver Dam Canyon. + +A mile from the rim we were deep in the canyon, walled in by +rock-strewn and pine-timbered slopes too steep for a horse to climb. +There was a little gully on the black soil where there were no +evidences of recent water. Haught said he had never seen Beaver Dam +Creek dry until this season. We traveled on until we came to a wide, +open space, where three forks of this canyon met, and where in the +middle of this glade there rose a lengthy wooded bench, shaded and +beautified by stately pines and silver spruce. At this point water +appeared in the creek bed, flowing in tiny stream that soon gathered +volume. Cold and clear and pure it was all that was needed to make +this spot an ideal camp site. Haught said half a mile below there was +a grassy park where the horses would graze with elk. + +We pitched our tents on this bench, and I chose for my location a +space between two great monarchs of the forests, that had surely +shaded many an Indian encampment. At the upper end of the bench rose a +knoll, golden and green with scrub oaks, and russet-colored with its +lichened rocks. About all we could manage that evening was to eat and +go to bed. + +Morning broke cool and bright, with heavy dew. I got my boots as wet +as if I had waded in water. This surprised me, occurring on October +sixth, and at eight thousand feet altitude, as I had expected frost. +Most of this day was spent in making camp, unpacking, and attending to +the many necessary little details that make for comfort in the open. +To be sure Romer worked very spasmodically. He spent most of his time +on the back of one of Haught's burros, chasing and roping another. I +had not remembered seeing the lad so happily occupied. + +Late in the afternoon I slipped off down the canyon alone, taking +Haught's rifle for safety rather than a desire to kill anything. By +no means was it impossible to meet a bad bear in that forest. Some +distance below camp I entered a ravine and climbed up to the level, +and soon found myself deep in the fragrant, colorful, wild forest. +Like coming home again was it to enter that forest of silver-tipped, +level-spreading spruce, and great, gnarled, massive pines, and +oak-patches of green and gold, and maple thickets, with shining aspens +standing white against the blaze of red and purple. High, wavy, +bleached grass, brown mats of pine needles, gray-green moss waving +from the spruces, long strands of sunlight--all these seemed to +welcome me. + +At a distance there was a roar of wind through the forest; close at +hand only a soft breeze. Rustling of twigs caused me to compose myself +to listen and watch. Soon small gray squirrels came into view all +around me, bright-eyed and saucy, very curious about this intruder. +They began to chatter. Other squirrels were working in the tops of +trees, for I heard the fall of pine cones. Then came the screech of +blue jays. Soon they too discovered me. The male birds were superb, +dignified, beautiful. The color was light blue all over with dark blue +head and tufted crest. By and bye they ceased to scold me, and I was +left to listen to the wind, and to the tiny patter of dropping seeds +and needles from the spruces. What cool, sweet, fresh smell this +woody, leafy, earthy, dry, grassy, odorous fragrance, dominated by +scent of pine! How lonesome and restful! I felt a sense of deep peace +and rest. This golden-green forest, barred with sunlight, canopied by +the blue sky, and melodious with its soughing moan of wind, absolutely +filled me with content and happiness. If a stag or a bear had trotted +out into my sight, and had showed me no animosity, not improbably I +would have forgotten my gun. More and more as I lived in the open I +grew reluctant to kill. + +Presently a porcupine waddled along some rods away, and unaware of my +presence it passed by and climbed a spruce. I saw it climb high and +finally lost sight of it. In searching up and down this spruce I grew +alive to what a splendid and beautiful tree it was. Where so many +trees grew it always seemed difficult to single out one and study +it. This silver spruce was five feet through at the base, rugged, +gray-seamed, thick all the way to its lofty height. Its branches +were small, with a singular feature that they were uniform in shape, +length, and droop. Most all spruce branches drooped toward the ground. +That explained why they made such excellent shelters from rain. After +a hard storm I had seen the ground dry under a thick-foliaged spruce. +Many a time had I made a bed under one. Elk and deer stand under +a spruce during a rain, unless there is thunder and lightning. In +forests of high altitude, where lightning strikes many trees, I have +never found or heard of elk and deer being killed. This particular +spruce was a natural tent in the forest. The thick-spreading graceful +silver plumes extended clear to the top, where they were bushiest, +and rounded out, with all the largest branches there. Each dark gray +branch was fringed and festooned with pale green moss, like the +cypresses of the South. + +Suddenly I heard a sharp snapping of twigs and then stealthy, light +steps. An animal of some species was moving in the thicket nearby. +Naturally I sustained a thrill, and bethought me of the rifle. Then I +peered keenly into the red rose shadows of the thicket. The sun was +setting now, and though there appeared a clear golden light high +in the forest, along the ground there were shadows. I heard leaves +falling, rustling. Tall white aspens stood out of the thicket, and two +of the large ones bore the old black scars of bear claws. I was sure, +however, that no bear hid in the thicket at this moment. Presently +whatever the animal was it pattered lightly away on the far side. +After that I watched the quiver of the aspen leaves. Some were green, +some yellow, some gold, but they all had the same wonderful tremor, +the silent fluttering that gave them the most exquisite action in +nature. The sun set, the forest darkened, reminding me of supper time. +So I returned to camp. As I entered the open canyon Romer-boy espied +me--manifestly he had been watching--and he yelled: "Here comes my +Daddy now!... Say, Dad, did you get any pegs?" + +Next morning Haught asked me if I would like to ride around through +the woods and probably get a shot at a deer. Romer coaxed so to go +that I finally consented. + +We rode down the canyon, and presently came to a wide grassy park +inclosed by high green-clad slopes, the features of which appeared to +be that the timber on the west slope was mostly pine, and on the east +slope it was mostly spruce. I could arrive at no certain reason for +this, but I thought it must be owing to the snow lying somewhat longer +on the east slope. The stream here was running with quite a little +volume of water. Our horses were grazing in this park. I saw fresh +elk tracks made the day before. Elk were quite abundant through this +forest, Haught informed me, and were protected by law. + +A couple of miles down this trail the canyon narrowed, losing its +park-like dimensions. The farther we traveled the more water there +was in the stream, and more elk, deer, and turkey tracks in the +sand. Every half mile or so we would come to the mouth of a small +intersecting canyon, and at length we rode up one of these, presently +to climb out on top. At this distance from the rim the forest was more +open than in the vicinity of our camp, affording better riding and +hunting. Still the thickets of aspen and young pine were so frequent +that seldom could I see ahead more than several hundred yards. + +Haught led the way, I rode next and Romer kept beside me where it was +possible to do so. There was, however, no trail. How difficult to keep +the lad quiet! I expected of course that Haught would dismount, and +take me to hunt on foot. After a while I gathered he did not hunt deer +except on horseback. He explained that cowboys rounded up cattle in +this forest in the spring and fall, and deer were not frightened at +sound or sight of a horse. Some of the thrill and interest in the +forest subsided for me. I did not like to hunt in a country where +cattle ranged, no matter how wild they were. Then when we came to a +forested ridge bare of grass and smelling of sheep, that robbed the +forest of a little more glamour. Mexican sheep-herders drove their +flocks up this far sometimes. Haught said bear, lion, lynx, and +coyote, sometimes the big gray wolves, followed the sheep. Deer, +however, hated a sheep-run range. + +Riding was exceedingly pleasant. The forest was shady, cool, full of +sunlight and beauty. Nothing but fire or the lumbermen could ever rob +it of its beauty, silence, fragrance, and of its temple-like majesty. +So provided we did not meet any cattle or sheep I did not care whether +or not we sighted any game. In fact I would have forgotten we were +hunting had not Romer been along. With him continually seeing things +it was difficult to keep from imagining that we were hunting Indians. +The Apaches had once lived in this country Haught informed us; and it +was a habit of theirs to burn the grass and fallen leaves over every +fall, thus keeping down the underbrush. In this the Indians showed how +near-sighted they were; the future growth of a forest did not concern +them. Usually Indians were better conservationists than white men. + +We rode across a grove of widely separated, stately pines, at the far +end of which stood a thicket of young pines and other brush. As we +neared this Haught suddenly reined in, and in quick and noiseless +action he dismounted. Then he jerked his rifle from his saddle-sheath, +took a couple of forward steps, and leveled it. I was so struck with +the rugged and significant picture he made that I did not dismount, +and did not see any game until after he fired. Then as I tumbled off +and got out my rifle I heard Romer gasping and crying out. A gray +streak with a bobbing white end flashed away out of sight to the left. +Next I saw a deer bounding through the thicket. Haught fired again. +The deer ran so fast that I could not get my sights anywhere near him. +Haught thudded through an opening, and an instant later, when both he +and the deer had disappeared, he shot the third time. Presently he +returned. + +"Never could shoot with them open sights nohow," he said. "Shore I +missed thet yearlin' buck when he was standin'. Why didn't you smoke +him up?" + +"Dad, why didn't you peg him?" asked Romer, with intense regret. "Why, +I could have knocked him." + +Then it was incumbent upon me to confess that the action had appeared +to be a little swift. "Wal," said Haught, "when you see one you want +to pile off quick." + +As we rode on Romer naively asked me if ever in my life I had seen +anything run so fast as that deer. We entered another big grove with +thin patches of thicket here and there. Haught said these were good +places for deer to lie down, relying on their noses to scent danger +from windward, and on their eyes in the other direction. We circled to +go round thickets, descending somewhat into a swale. Here Haught got +off a little to the right. Romer and I rode up a gentle slope toward +a thin line of little pines, through which I could see into the pines +beyond. Suddenly up jumped three big gray bucks. Literally I fell off +my horse, bounced up, and pulled out my rifle. One buck was loping in +a thicket. I could see his broad, gray body behind the slender trees. +I aimed--followed him--got a bead on him--and was just about to pull +trigger when he vanished. Plunging forward I yelled to Haught. Then +Romer cried in his shrill treble: "Dad, here's a big buck--hurry!" +Turning I ran back. In wild excitement Romer was pointing. I was just +in time to see a gray rump disappear in the green. Just then Haught +shot, and after that he halloed. Romer and I went through the thicket, +working to our left, and presently came out into the open forest. +Haught was leading his horse. To Romer's eager query he replied: +"Shore, I piled him up. Two-year-old black-tail buck." + +Sure enough he had shot straight this time. The buck lay motionless +under a pine, with one point of his antlers imbedded deep in the +ground. A sleek, gray, graceful deer he was just beginning to get his +winter coat. His color was indeed a bluish gray. Haught hung him up +to a branch, spread his hind legs, and cut him down the middle. The +hunter's dexterity with a knife made me wonder how many deer he had +dressed in his life in the open. We lifted the deer upon the saddle of +Haught's horse and securely tied it there with a lasso; then with the +hunter on foot, leading the way, we rode through the forest up the +main ridge between Beaver and Turkey Canyons. Toward the rim I found +the pines and spruces larger, and the thickets of aspen denser. We +passed the heads of many ravines running down to the canyons on either +side, and these were blazing gold and red in color, and so thick I +could not see a rod into them. About the middle of the afternoon we +reached camp. With venison hanging up to cool we felt somewhat like +real hunters. R.C. had gone off to look for turkeys, which enterprise +had been unsuccessful. + +Upon the following day, which was October tenth, we started our bear +hunting. Haught's method appeared to me to lack something. He sent the +hounds down below the rim with George; and taking R.C. and me, and Lee +and Nielsen, he led us over to what he called Horton Thicket. Never +would I forget my first sight of that immense forest-choked canyon. +It was a great cove running up from the basin into the rim. Craggy +ledges, broken, ruined, tottering and gray, slanted down into this +abyss. The place was so vast that these ledges appeared far apart, yet +they were many. An empire of splintered cliff! + +High up these cracked and stained walls were covered with lichens, +with little spruces growing in niches, and tiny yellow bushes. Points +of crumbling rock were stained gold and russet and bronze. Below the +huge gorge was full of aspens, maples, spruces--a green, crimson, +yellow density of timber, apparently impenetrable. We were accorded +different stations on the ledges all around the cove, and instructed +to stay there until called by four blasts from a hunting horn. My +point was so far from R.C.'s, across the canyon, that I had to use my +field-glass to see him. When I did look he seemed contented. Lee and +Nielsen and Haught I could not see at all. Finding a comfortable seat, +if hard rock could ever be that, I proceeded to accept my wait for +developments. One thing was sure--even though it were a futile way to +hunt it seemed rich in other recompense for me. My stand towered above +a vast colorful slope down which the wind roared as in a gale. How +could I ever hear the hounds? I watched the storm-clouds scudding +across the sky. Once I saw a rare bird, a black eagle in magnificent +flight; and so whatever happened I had my reward in that sight. + +Nothing happened. For hours and hours I sat there, with frequent +intermissions away from my hard, rocky seat. Toward the close of +afternoon, when the wind began to get cold, I saw that R.C. had left +his stand. He had undoubtedly gone back to camp, which was some miles +nearer his stand than mine. At last I gave up any hope of hearing +either the hounds or the horn, as the roar of wind had increased. Once +I thought I heard a distant rifle shot. So I got on my horse and set +out to find camp. I was on a promontory, the sides of which were +indented by long ravines that were impassable except near their heads. +In fact I had been told there was only one narrow space where it was +possible to get off this promontory. Lucky indeed that I remembered +Haught telling of this! Anyway I soon found myself lost in a maze of +forested heads of ravines. Finally I went back to the rim on the +west side, and then working along I found our horse-tracks. These I +followed, with difficulty, and after an hour's travel I crossed the +narrow neck of the promontory, and back-tracked myself to camp, +arriving there at sunset. + +The Haughts had put up two bear. One bear had worked around under one +of the great promontories. The hounds had gotten on his back-trail, +staying on it until it grew cold, then had left it. Their baying had +roused the bear out of his bed, and he had showed himself once or +twice on the open rock-slides. Haught saw the other bear from the rim. +This was a big, red, cinnamon bear asleep under a pine tree on an open +slope. Haught said when the hounds gave tongue on the other trail this +red bear awakened, sat up, and wagged his head slowly. He had never +been chased by hounds. He lay down in his piny bed again. The distance +was too great for an accurate shot, but Haught tried anyway, with the +result that he at least scared the cinnamon off. + +These bear were both thin. As they were not the sheep-killing and +cow-killing kind their food consisted mainly of mast (acorns) and +berries. But this season there were no berries at all, and very few +acorns. So the bears were not fat. When a bear was thin he could +always outrun the hounds; if he was fat he would get hot and tired +enough to climb a tree or mad enough to stop and fight the dogs. + +Haught told me there were a good many mountain lions and lynx under +the rim. They lived on elk, deer, and turkey. The lynx were the +tuft-eared, short-tailed species. They would attack and kill a +cow-elk. In winter on the rim the snow sometimes fell fifteen feet +deep, so that the game wintered underneath. Snow did not lay long on +the sunny, open ridges of the basin. + +That night a storm-wind roared mightily in the pines. How wonderful to +lie snug in bed, down in the protected canyon, and hear the marching +and retreating gale above in the forest! Next day we expected rain or +snow. But there was only wind, and that quieted by afternoon. So I +took Romer off into the woods. He carried his rifle and he wore his +chaps. I could not persuade him to part with these. They rustled on +the brush and impeded his movements, and particularly tired him, and +made him look like a diminutive cowboy. How eager, keen, boyishly +vain, imaginative! He was crazy to see game, to shoot anything, +particularly bears. But it contented him to hunt turkeys. Many a stump +and bit of color he mistook for game of some kind. Nevertheless, I +had to take credence in what he thought he saw, for his eyesight was +unusually quick and keen. + +That afternoon Edd and Doyle arrived, reporting an extremely rough, +roundabout climb up to the rim, where they had left the wagon. As it +was impossible to haul the supplies down into the canyon they +were packed down to camp on burros. Isbel had disapproved of this +procedure, a circumstance that struck me with peculiar significance, +which Lee explained by telling me Isbel was one of the peculiar breed +of cowboys, who no sooner were they out on the range than they wanted +to go back to town again. The truth was I had not met any of that +breed, though I had heard of them. This peculiarity of Isbel's began +to be related in my mind to his wastefulness as a cook. He cooked and +threw away as much as we ate. I asked him to be careful and to go +easy with our supplies, but I could not see that my request made any +difference. + +After supper this evening R.C. heard a turkey call up on the hill east +of camp. Then I heard it, and Romer also. We ran out a ways into the +open to listen the better. R.C.'s ears were exceptionally keen. He +could hear a squirrel jump a long distance in the forest. In this case +he distinctly heard three turkeys fly up into trees. I heard one. +Romer declared he heard a flock. Then R.C. located a big bronze and +white gobbler on a lower limb of a huge pine. Presently I too espied +it. Whereupon we took shot-gun and rifle, and sallied forth sure of +fetching back to camp some wild turkey meat. Romer tagged at our +heels. + +Hurrying to the slope we climbed up at least three-quarters of the +way, as swiftly as possible. And that was work enough to make me wet +and hot. The sun had set and twilight was upon us, so that we needs +must hurry if we were to be successful. Locating the big gobbler +turned out to be a task. We had to climb over brush and around rocks, +up a steep slope, rather open; and we had to do it without being seen +or making noise. Romer, despite his eagerness, did very well indeed. +At last I espied our quarry, and indeed the sight was thrilling. +Wild turkey gobblers to me, who had hunted them enough to learn how +sagacious and cunning and difficult to stalk they were, always seemed +as provocative of excitement as larger game. This big fellow hopped up +from limb to limb of the huge dead pine, and he bobbed around as if +undecided, and tried each limb for a place to roost. Then he hopped +farther up until we lost sight of him in the gnarled net-work of +branches. + +R.C. wanted me to slip on alone, but I preferred to have him and Romer +go too. So we slipped stealthily upward until we reached the level. +Then progress was easier. I went to the left with the rifle, and R.C. +with the .20-gauge, and Romer, went around to the right. How rapidly +it was growing dark! Low down in the forest I could not distinguish +objects. We circled that big pine tree, and I made rather a wide +detour, perhaps eighty yards from it. At last I got the upper part of +the dead pine silhouetted against the western sky. Moving to and fro I +finally made out a large black lump way out upon a spreading branch. +Could that be the gobbler? I studied that dark enlarged part of the +limb with great intentness, and I had about decided that it was only +a knot when I saw a long neck shoot out. That lump was the wise old +turkey all right. He was almost in the top of the tree and far out +from the trunk. No wild cat or lynx could ever surprise him there! I +reflected upon the instinct that governed him to protect his life so +cunningly. Safe he was from all but man and gun! + +When I came to aim at him with the rifle I found that I could see +only a blur of sights. Other branches and the tip of a very high pine +adjoining made a dark background. I changed my position, working +around to where the background was all open sky. It proved to be +better. By putting the sights against this open sky I could faintly +see the front sight through the blurred ring. It was a good long shot +even for daylight, and I had a rifle I knew nothing about. But all the +difficulty only made a keener zest. Just then I heard Romer cry out +excitedly, and then R.C. spoke distinctly. Far more careless than that +they began to break twigs under their feet. The gobbler grew uneasy. +How he stretched out his long neck! He heard them below. I called out +low and sharp: "Stand still! Be quiet!" Then I looked again through +the blurred peep-sight until I caught the front sight against the open +sky. This done I moved the rifle over until I had the sight aligned +against the dark shape. Straining my eyes I held hard--then fired. The +big dark lump on the branch changed shape, and fell, to alight with a +sounding thump. I heard Romer running, but could not see him. Then his +high voice pealed out: "I got him, Dad. You made a grand peg!" + +Not only had Romer gotten him, but he insisted on packing him back to +camp. The gobbler was the largest I ever killed, not indeed one of the +huge thirty-five pounders, but a fat, heavy turkey, and quite a load +for a boy. Romer packed him down that steep slope in the dark without +a slip, for which performance I allowed him to stay up a while around +the camp-fire. + +The Haughts came over from their camp that night and visited us. Much +as I loved to sit alone beside a red-embered fire at night in the +forest, or on the desert, I also liked upon occasions to have company. +We talked and talked. Old-timer Doyle told more than one of his "in +the early days" stories. Then Haught told us some bear stories. The +first was about an old black bear charging and sliding down at him. He +said no hunter should ever shoot at a bear above him, because it could +come down at him as swiftly as a rolling rock. This time he worked the +lever of his rifle at lightning speed, and at the last shot he "shore +saw bear hair right before his eyes." His second story was about a +boy who killed a bear, and was skinning it when five more bears came +along, in single file, and made it very necessary that he climb a tree +until they had gone. His third story was about an old she-bear that +had two cubs. Haught happened to ride within sight of her when +evidently she thought it time to put her cubs in a safe place. So she +tried to get them to climb a spruce tree, and finally had to cuff and +spank them to make them go up. In connection with this story he told +us he had often seen she-bears spank their cubs. More thrilling was +his fourth story about a huge grizzly, a sheep and cattle killer that +passed through the country, leaving death behind him on the range. + +Romer's enjoyment of this story-telling hour around the glowing +camp-fire was equalled by his reluctance to go to bed. "Aw, Dad, +please let me hear one more," he pleaded. His shining eyes would have +weakened a sterner discipline than mine. And Haught seemed inspired by +them. + +"Wal now, listen to this hyar," he began again, with a twinkle in his +eye. "Thar was an old fellar had a ranch in Chevelon Canyon, an' he +was always bein' pestered by mountain lions. His name was Bill Tinker. +Now Bill was no sort of a hunter, fact was he was afeerd of lions an' +bears, but he shore did git riled when any critters rustled around +his cabin. One day in the fall he comes home an' seen a big she-lion +sneakin' around. He grabbed a club, an' throwed it, and yelled to +scare the critter away. Wal, he had an old water barrel layin' around, +an' darned if the lion didn't run in thet barrel an' hide. Bill run +quick an' flopped the barrel end up, so he had the lion trapped. He +had to set on the barrel to hold it down. Shore that lion raised old +Jasper under the barrel. Bill was plumb scared. Then he seen the +lion's tail stick out through the bung-hole. Bill bent over an' shore +quick tied a knot in thet long tail. Then he run fer his cabin. When +he got to the door he looked back to see the lion tearin' down the +hill fer the woods with the barrel bumpin' behind her. Bill said he +never seen her again till next spring, an' she had the barrel still on +her tail. But what was stranger'n thet Bill swore she had four cubs +with her an' each of them had a keg on its tail." + +We all roared with laughter except Romer. His interest had been +so all-absorbing, his excitement so great, and his faith in the +story-teller so reverential that at first he could not grasp the trick +at the end of the story. His face was radiant, his eyes were dark and +dilated. When the truth dawned upon him, amaze and disappointment +changed his mobile face, and then came mirth. He shouted as if to the +tree-tops on high. Long after he was in bed I heard him laughing to +himself. + +I was awakened a little after daylight by the lad trying to get into +his boots. His boots were rather tight, and somehow, even in a dry +forest, he always contrived to get them wet, so that in the morning it +was a herculean task for him to pull them on. This occasion appeared +more strenuous than usual. "Son, what's the idea?" I inquired. "It's +just daylight--not time to get up." He desisted from his labors +long enough to pant: "Uncle Rome's--gone after turkeys. Edd's going +to--call them with--a caller--made out of a turkey's wing-bone." And +I said: "But they've gone now." Whereupon he subsided: "Darned old +boots! I heard Edd and Uncle Rome. I'd been ready if I could have got +into my darned old boots.... See here, Dad, I'm gonna wear moccasins." + + +III + +As we were sitting round the camp-fire, eating breakfast, R.C. and Edd +returned; and R.C. carried a turkey gobbler the very size and color of +the one I had shot the night before. R.C.'s face wore the keen, pleased +expression characteristic of it when he had just had some unusual and +satisfying experience. + +[Illustration: ZANE GREY ON DON CARLOS] + +[Illustration: WILD TURKEY] + +"Sure was great," he said, warming his hands at the fire. "We went up +on the hill where you killed your gobbler last night. Got there just +in the gray light of dawn. We were careful not to make any noise. Edd +said if there were any more turkeys they would come down at daylight. +So we waited until it was light enough to see. Then Edd got out his +turkey bone and began to call. Turkeys answered from the trees all +around. By George, it was immense! Edd had picked out a thicket of +little pines for us to hide in, and in front of us was a glade with a +big fallen tree lying across it. Edd waited a few moments. The woods +was all gray and quiet. I don't know when I've felt so good. Then he +called again. At once turkeys answered from all around in the trees. +Next I heard a swish of wings, then a thump. Then more swishes. The +turkeys were flying down from their roosts. It seemed to me in my +excitement that there were a hundred of them. We could hear them +pattering over the dry ground. Edd whispered: 'They're down. Now we +got to do some real callin'.' I felt how tense, how cautious he was. +When he called again there was some little difference, I don't know +what, unless it was his call sounded more like a real turkey. They +answered. They were gathering in front of us, and I made sure were +coming into the glade. Edd stopped calling. Then he whispered: 'Ready +now. Look out!'... Sure I was looking all right. This was my first +experience calling turkeys and I simply shook all over. Suddenly I +saw a turkey head stick up over the log. Then!--up hopped a beautiful +gobbler. He walked along the log, looked and peered, and stretched his +neck. Sure he was suspicious. Edd gave me a hunch, which I took to be +a warning to shoot quick. That was a hard place for me. I wanted to +watch the gobbler. I wanted to see the others. We could hear them all +over the glade. But this was my chance. Quickly I rose and took a peg +at him. A cloud of feathers puffed off him. He gave a great bounce, +flapping his wings. I heard a roaring whirr of other turkeys. With my +eye on my gobbler I seemed to see the air full of big, black, flying +things. My gobbler came down, bounced up again, got going--when with +the second barrel I knocked him cold. Then I stood there watching the +flock whirring every way into the forest. Must have been thirty-five +or forty of them, all gobblers. It was a great sight. And right here I +declared myself--wild turkey is the game for me." + +Romer manifestly listened to this narrative with mingled feelings of +delight and despair. "Uncle Rome, wild turkey's the game for me, too +... and by Gosh! I'll fix those boots of mine!" + +That morning we were scheduled for another bear hunt, on which I had +decided to go down under the rim with Edd and George. Lee had his +doubts about my horse, and desired me to take his, or at least one +of the others. Now his horse was too spirited for me to ride after +hounds, and I did not want to take one of the others, so I was +compelled to ride my own. At the last moment Lee had been disappointed +in getting a mustang he particularly wanted for me, and so it had +fallen about that my horse was the poorest in the outfit, which to put +it mildly was pretty poor. I had made the best of the matter so far, +and hoped to continue doing so. + +We rode up the east slope of Beaver Dam Canyon, through the forest, +and out along the rim for five or six miles, way on the other side of +the promontory where I had gotten lost. Here Haught left us, taking +with him R.C. and Lee and Nielsen, all of whom were to have stands +along the rim. We hoped to start a bear and chase him round under the +high points toward Horton Thicket. + +The magnificent view from the head of a trail where Edd started down +impressed me so powerfully that I lagged behind. Below me heaved +a split, tossed, dimpled, waving, rolling world of black-green +forestland. Far across it stood up a rugged, blue, waved range of +mountains--the Sierra Anchas. + +The trail was rough, even for Arizonians, which made it for me little +short of impassable. I got off to lead my horse. He had to be pulled +most of the time, wherefore I lost patience with him. I loved horses, +but not stubborn ones. All the way down the rocky trail the bunch +grass and wild oak and manzanita were so thick that I had to crush my +way through. At length I had descended the steep part to find Edd and +George waiting for me below on the juniper benches. These were slopes +of red earth or clay, bare of grass, but thick with junipers, cactus, +and manzanita. This face of the great rim was a southern exposure, +hot and dusty. The junipers were thick. The green of their foliage +somewhat resembled cedars, but their berries were gray-blue, almost +lavender in color. I tasted several from different trees, until I +found one with sweet, somewhat acrid taste. Significant it was that +this juniper had broken branches where bears had climbed to eat the +fruit, and all around on the ground beneath was bear sign. Edd said +the tracks were cold, but all the same he had to be harsh with the +hounds to hold them in. I counted twenty piles of bear manure under +one juniper, and many places where bears had scraped in the soft earth +and needles. + +We went on down this slope, getting into thicker brush and rougher +ground. All at once the hounds opened up in thrilling chorus of bays +and barks. I saw Edd jump off his horse to stoop and examine the +ground, where evidently he had seen a bear track. "Fresh--made last +night!" he yelled, mounting hurriedly. "Hi! Hi! Hi!" His horse leaped +through the brush, and George followed. In an instant they were out of +sight. Right there my trouble began. I spurred my horse after them, +and it developed that he differed from me in regard to direction and +going. He hated the brush. But I made him take to it and made him run. +Dodging branches was an old story for me, and if I had been on a good +fast horse I might have kept Edd and George in sight. As it was, +however, I had to follow them by the sound of hoofs and breaking +brush. From the way the hounds bayed I knew they had struck a hot +scent. They worked down the slope, and assuredly gave me a wild ride +to keep within hearing of them. My horse grew excited, which fact +increased his pace, his obstinacy, and likewise my danger. Twice he +unseated me. I tore my coat, lost my hat, scratched my face, skinned +my knees, but somehow I managed to keep within hearing. + +I came to a deep brush-choked gorge, impassable at that point. Luckily +the hounds turned here and started back my way. By riding along +the edge of this gorge I kept up with them. They climbed out an +intersecting ravine and up on the opposite side. I forced my horse to +go down this rather steep soft slope. At the bottom I saw a little +spring of water with fresh bear tracks around it, and one place where +the bear had caved in a soft bank. Here my horse suddenly plunged and +went to his knees in the yielding red clay. He snorted in fright. The +bank slid with him and I tumbled off. But nothing serious happened. I +ran down, caught him, mounted, and spurred him up the other side. Once +up he began to run. I heard the boys yelling not far away and the +hounds were baying up above me. They were climbing fast, working to +the left, toward an oak thicket. It took effort to slow down my steed. +He acted crazy and I began to suspect that he had caught a whiff of +the bear. Most horses are afraid of bears and lions. Sight of Edd and +George, who appeared in an open spot, somewhat quieted my mount. + +"Trail's gettin' hot up there," declared Edd. "That bear's bedded +somewhere an' I'll bet the hounds jumped him. Listen to Old Tom!" + +How the deep sonorous bay of Old Tom awoke the echoes under the +cliffs! And Old Dan's voice was a hoarse bellow. The other hounds +yelped. + +Edd blew a mellow blast from his hunting-horn, and that awoke other +and more melodious echoes. "There's father up on the rim," he said. I +looked, and finally saw Haught perched like a black eagle on a crag. +His gun flashed in the strong sunlight. + +Somewhere up there the hounds jumped the bear. Anybody could have told +that. What a wild chorus! Edd and George answered to it with whoops +as wild, and they galloped their horses over ground and through brush +where they should have been walked. I followed, or tried to follow; +and here my steed showed his bull-headed, obstinate nature. If he had +been afraid but still game I would have respected him, but he was a +coward and mean. He wanted to have his way, which was to go the other +direction, and to rid himself of me. So we had it hot and heavy +along that rough slope, with honors about even. As for bruises and +scratches, however, I sustained the most. In the excitement of the +chase and anger at the horse I forgot all about any risks. This always +is the way in adventure. Hot racing blood governed me entirely. +Whenever I got out in an open place, where I could ride fast and hear +and see, then it was all intensely thrilling. Both hounds and comrades +were above me, but apparently working down. + +Thus for me the necessity of hurry somewhat lessened. I slowed to a +trot, peering everywhere, listening with all my ears. I had stopped +yelling, because my horse had misunderstood that. We got into a +region of oak thickets, small saplings, scrubby, close together, but +beautiful with their autumn-tinted leaves. Next I rode through a maple +dell, shady, cool, where the leafy floor was all rose-pink-red. My +horse sent the colored leaves flying. + +Soon, however, we got into the thickets again, low live-oak and +manzanita, which kind of brush my horse detested. I did not blame +him for that. As the hounds began to work down my keen excitement +increased. If they had jumped the bear and were chasing him down I +might run upon him any moment. This both appealed to me and caused me +apprehension. Suppose he were a bad cinnamon or a grizzly? What would +become of me on that horse? I decided that I had better carry my rifle +in my hand, so in case of a sudden appearance of the bear and I was +thrown or had a fall off, then I would be prepared. So forthwith I +drew the rifle out of the scabbard, remembering as I did so that +Haught had cautioned me, in case of close quarters with a bear and the +need of quick shooting, to jerk the lever down hard. If my horse had +cut up abominably before he now began to cover himself with a glory +of abominableness. I had to jam him through the thickets. He was an +uncomfortable horse to ride under the best circumstances; here he +was as bad as riding a picket-fence. When he got his head, which was +often, he carried me into thickets of manzanita that we could not +penetrate, and had to turn back. I found that I was working high +up the slope, and bad luck as I was having with my horse, I still +appeared to keep fairly close to the hounds. + +When we topped a ridge of this slope the wind struck us strong in the +face. The baying of the hounds rang clear and full and fierce. My +horse stood straight up. Then he plunged back and bolted down the +slope. His mouth was like iron. I could neither hold nor turn him. +However perilous this ride I had to admit that at last my horse was +running beautifully. In fact he was running away! He had gotten a hot +scent of that bear. He hurdled rocks, leaped washes, slid down banks, +plunged over places that made my hair stand up stiff, and worst of all +he did not try to avoid brush or trees or cactus. Manzanita he tore +right through, leaving my coat in strips decorating our wake. I had to +hold on, to lie flat, to dodge and twist, and all the time watch for a +place where I might fall off in safety. But I did not get a chance +to fall off. A loud clamoring burst from the hounds apparently close +behind drove my horse frantic. Before he had only run--now he flew! +He left me hanging in the thick branches of a juniper, from which I +dropped blind and breathless and stunned. Disengaging myself from the +broken and hanging branches I staggered aside, rifle in hand, trying +to recover breath and wits. + +Then, in that nerveless and shaken condition, I heard the breaking +of twigs and thud of soft steps right above me. Peering up with my +half-blinded eyes I saw a huge red furry animal coming, half obscured +by brush. It waved aside from his broad back. A shock ran over me--a +bursting gush of hot blood that turned to ice as it rushed. "Big +cinnamon bear!" I whispered, hoarsely. + +Instinctively I cocked and leveled the rifle, and though I could not +clearly see the red animal bearing down the slope, such was my state +that I fired. Then followed a roaring crash--a terrible breaking +onslaught upon the brush--and the huge red mass seemed to flash down +toward me. I worked the lever of the rifle. But I had forgotten +Haught's caution. I did not work the lever far enough down, so that +the next cartridge jammed in the receiver. With a second shock, +different this time, I tried again. In vain! The terrible crashing +of brush appeared right upon me. For an instant that seemed an age I +stood riveted to the spot, my blood congealing, my heart choking me, +my tongue pasted to the roof of my mouth. Then I dropped the rifle +and whirled to plunge away. Like a deer I bounded. I took prodigious +bounds. To escape--to find a tree to leap into--that was my only +thought. A few rods down the slope--it seemed a mile--I reached a pine +with low branches. Like a squirrel I ran up this--straddled a limb +high up--and gazed back. + +My sensations then were dominated by the relief of salvation. I became +conscious of them. Racing blood, bursting heart, labored pang of +chest, prickling, burning skin, a queer involuntary flutter of +muscles, like a palsy--these attested to the instinctive primitive +nature of my state. I heard the crashing of brush, the pound of soft +jumps over to my left. With eyes that seemed magnifying I gazed to see +a big red woolly steer plunge wildly down the slope and disappear. A +third shock possessed me--amaze. I had mistaken a wild, frightened +steer for a red cinnamon bear! + +I sat there some moments straddling that branch. Then I descended, and +went back to the place I had dropped my rifle, and securing that I +stood a moment listening. The hounds had taken the chase around below +me into the gorge and were drawing away. It was useless to try to +follow them. I sat down again and gave myself up to meditation. + +I tried to treat the situation as a huge joke, but that would not go. +No joke indeed! My horse had made me risk too much, my excitement had +been too intense, my fright had been too terrible. Reality for me +could not have been any more grave. I had risked my neck on a stubborn +coward of a horse, I had mistaken a steer for a bear, I had forgotten +how to manipulate the borrowed rifle. These were the careless elements +of tragedy. The thought sobered me. I took the lesson to heart. And I +reflected on the possible point of view of the bear. He had probably +gone to sleep on a full stomach of juniper berries and a big drink +of spring water. Rudely he had been routed out by a pack of yelping, +fiendish hounds. He had to run for his life. What had he done to +deserve such treatment? Possibly he might have killed some of Haught's +pigs, but most assuredly he had never harmed me. In my sober frame of +mind then I rather disapproved of my wholly unjustifiable murderous +intent. I would have deserved it if the steer had really been the +bear. Certainly I hoped the bear would outrun the hounds and escape. I +weighed the wonderful thrill of the chase, the melody of hounds, the +zest of spirited action, the peril to limb and life against the thing +that they were done for, with the result that I found them sadly +lacking. Peril to limb and life was good for man. If this had not been +a fact my performance would have been as cowardly as that of my +horse. Again I had rise up before my mind the spectacle of opposing +forces--the elemental in man restrained by the spiritual. Then the old +haunting thought returned to vex me--man in his development needed the +exercise of brawn, muscle, bone red-blood, violence, labor and pain +and agony. Nature recognized only the survival of the fittest of +any species. If a man allowed a spiritual development, intellect, +gentleness, to keep him from all hard, violent action, from tremendous +exertion, from fierce fight with elements and beasts, and his own +kind--would he not soon degenerate as a natural physical man? +Evolution was a stern inevitable seeking of nature for perfection, +for the unattainable. This perfection was something that lived and +improved on strife. Barbarians, Indians, savages were the most +perfect specimens of nature's handiwork; and in proportion to their +development toward so-called civilized life their physical prowess and +perfectness--that was to say, their strength to resist and live and +reproduce their kind--absolutely and inevitably deteriorated. + +My reflection did not carry me at that time to any positive +convictions of what was truest and best. The only conclusions I +eventually arrived at were that I was sore and bruised and dirty and +torn--that I would be happy if the bear got away--that I had lost my +mean horse and was glad therefore--that I would have half a dozen +horses and rifles upon my next hunt--and lastly that I would not be in +any hurry to tell about mistaking a steer for a bear, and climbing a +tree. Indeed these last facts have been religiously kept secret until +chronicled here. + +Shortly afterward, as I was making a lame and slow headway toward +Horton Thicket, where I hoped to find a trail out, I heard Edd +yelling, and I answered. Presently we met. He was leading my horse, +and some of the hounds, notably Old Tom and Dan, were with him. + +"Where's the bear?" I asked. + +"He got away down in the breaks," replied Edd. "George is tryin' to +call the hounds back. What happened to you? I heard you shoot." + +"My horse didn't care much for me or the brush," I replied. "He left +me--rather suddenly. And--I took a shot at what I thought was a bear." + +"I seen him once," said Edd, with eyes flashing. "Was just goin' to +smoke him up when he jumped out of sight." + +My mortification and apprehension were somewhat mitigated when I +observed that Edd was dirty, ragged, and almost as much disheveled as +I was. I had feared he would see in my appearance certain unmistakable +evidences that I had made a tenderfoot blunder and then run for +my life. But Edd took my loss of hat, and torn coat, and general +bedraggled state as a matter of course. Indeed I somehow felt a little +pride at his acceptance of me there in the flesh. + +We rode around the end of this slope, gradually working down into +Horton Thicket, where a wild confusion of dense timber engaged my +sight. Presently George trotted up behind us with the other dogs. "We +lost him down on the hot dry ridges. Hounds couldn't track him," was +all George said. Thereupon Edd blew four blasts upon his hunting-horn, +which were signals to those on the stands above that the hunt was over +for the day. + +Even in the jungle tropics I had never seen such dense shade as this +down in Horton Thicket. The timber grew close and large, and the +foliage was matted, letting little sunlight through. Dark, green and +brown, fragrant, cool thicket indeed it was. We came to a huge spruce +tree, the largest I ever saw--Edd said eight feet through at the base, +but he was conservative. It was a gnarled, bearded, gray, old monarch +of the forest, with bleached, dead top. For many years it had been the +home of swarms of wild honey bees. Edd said more than one bee-hunter +had undertaken to cut down this spruce. This explained a number of +deeply cut notches in the huge trunk. "I'll bet Nielsen could chop it +down," declared Edd. I admitted the compliment to our brawny Norwegian +axe-wielder, but added that I certainly would not let him do it, +whether we were to get any honey or not. + +By and bye we reached the bottom of the thicket where we crossed a +swift clear cold brook. Here the smells seemed cool, sweet, wild with +spruce and pine. This stream of granite water burst from a spring +under a cliff. What a roar it made! I drank until I could drink no +more. Huge boulders and windfalls, moved by water at flood season, +obstructed the narrow stream-bed. We crossed to start climbing the +north slope, and soon worked up out of the thicket upon a steep, rocky +slope, with isolated pines. We struck a deer-trail hard to follow. +Above me loomed the pine-tipped rim, with its crags, cliffs, +pinnacles, and walls, all gray, seamed and stained, and in some clefts +blazes of deep red and yellow foliage. + +When we surmounted the slope, and eventually reached camp, I found +Isbel entertaining strangers, men of rough garb, evidently riders of +the range. That was all right, but I did not like his prodigality with +our swiftly diminishing store of eatables. + +To conclude about Isbel--matters pertaining to our commissary +department, during the next few days, went from bad to worse. Doyle +advised me not to take Isbel to task, and was rather evasive of +reasons for so advising me. Of course I listened and attended to my +old guide's advice, but I fretted under the restraint. We had a spell +of bad weather, wind and rain, and hail off and on, and at length, the +third day, a cold drizzling snow. During this spell we did but little +hunting. The weather changed, and the day afterward I rode my mean +horse twenty miles on a deer hunt. We saw one buck. Upon our arrival +at camp, about four o'clock, which hour was too early for dinner, I +was surprised and angered to find Isbel eating an elaborate meal with +three more strange, rough-appearing men. Doyle looked serious. Nielsen +had a sharp glint in his gray eye. As for myself, this procedure of +our cook's was more than I could stand. + +"Isbel, you're discharged," I said, shortly. "Take your outfit and get +out. Lee will lend you a pack horse." + +"Wal, I ain't fired," drawled Isbel. "I quit before you rode in. Beat +you to it!" + +"Then if you quit it seems to me you are taking liberties with +supplies you have no right to," I replied. + +"Nope. Cook of any outfit has a right to all the chuck he wants. +That's western way." + +"Isbel, listen to this and then get out," I went on. "You've wasted +our supplies just to get us to hurry and break camp. As for western +ways I know something of them. It's a western way for a man to be +square and honest in his dealings with an outsider. In all my years +and in all my trips over the southwest you are the first westerner to +give me the double-cross. You have that distinction." + +Then I turned my back upon him and walked to my tent. His +acquaintances left at once, and he quickly packed and followed. +Faithful old Doyle took up the duties of cook and we gained, rather +than missed by the change. Our supplies, however, had been so depleted +that we could not stay much longer on the hunt. + +By dint of much determination as to the manner and method of my next +hunt I managed to persuade myself that I could make the best of this +unlucky sojourn in the woods. No rifle, no horse worth riding, no food +to stay out our time--it was indeed bad luck for me. After supper the +tension relaxed. Then I realized all the men were relieved. Only Romer +regretted loss of Isbel. When the Doyles and Haughts saw how I took +my hard luck they seemed all the keener to make my stay pleasant and +profitable. Little they knew that their regard was more to me than +material benefits and comforts of the trip. To travelers of the +desert and hunters and riders of the open there are always hard and +uncomfortable and painful situations to be met with. And in meeting +these, if it can be done with fortitude and spirit that win the +respect of westerners, it is indeed a reward. + +Next day, in defiance of a thing which never should be +considered--luck--I took Haught's rifle again, and my lazy, sullen, +intractable horse, and rode with Edd and George down into Horton +Thicket. At least I could not be cheated out of fresh air and +beautiful scenery. + +We dismounted and tied our horses at the brook, and while Edd took +the hounds up into the dense thicket where the bears made their beds, +George and I followed a trail up the brook. In exactly ten minutes the +hounds gave tongue. They ran up the thicket, which was favorable for +us, and from their baying I judged the bear trail to be warm. In the +dense forest we could not see five rods ahead. George averred that he +did not care to have a big cinnamon or a grizzly come running down +that black thicket. And as for myself I did not want one so very +exceedingly much. I tried to keep from letting the hounds excite me, +which effort utterly failed. We kept even with the hounds until their +baying fell off, and finally grew desultory, and then ceased. +"Guess they had the wrong end of his trail," said George. With this +exasperating feature of bear and lion chases I was familiar. Most +hounds, when they struck a trail, could not tell in which direction +the bear was traveling. A really fine hound, however, like Buffalo +Jones' famous Don, or Scott Teague's Sampson or Haught's Old Dan, +would grow suspicious of a scent that gradually cooled, and would +eventually give it up. Young hounds would back-track game as far as +possible. + +After waiting a while we returned to our horses, and presently Edd +came back with the pack. "Big bear, but cold trail. Called them off," +was all he said. We mounted and rode across the mouth of Horton +Thicket round to the juniper slopes, which I had occasion to remember. +I even saw the pine tree which I had so ignominiously climbed. How we +ridicule and scorn some of our perfectly natural actions--afterwards! +Edd had brought three of the pups that day, two-year-olds as full of +mischief as pups could be. They jumped a bunch of deer and chased them +out on the hard red cedar covered ridges. We had a merry chase to head +them off. Edd gave them a tongue-lashing and thrashing at one and the +same time. I felt sorry for the pups. They had been so full of frolic +and fight. How crestfallen they appeared after Edd got through! +"Whaddaye mean," yelled Edd, in conclusion. "Chasin' deer!... Do you +think you're a lot of rabbit dogs?" From the way the pups eyed Edd +so sheepishly and adoringly, I made certain they understood him +perfectly, and humbly confessed their error. + +Old Tom and Old Dan had not come down off the slopes with us after the +pups. And upon our return both the old hounds began to bay deep and +fast. With shrill ki-yi the pups bounded off, apparently frantic to +make up for misbehavior. Soon the whole pack was in full chorus. +Edd and George spurred into the brush, yelling encouragement to the +hounds. This day I managed to make my horse do a little of what I +wanted. To keep in sight of the Haught boys was indeed beyond me; but +I did not lose sound of them. This chase led us up slope and down +slope, through the brush and pine thickets, over bare ridges and into +gullies; and eventually out into the basin, where the hounds got +beyond hearing. + +"One of them long, lean, hungry bears," remarked Edd. "He'd outrun any +dogs." + +Leisurely then we turned to the three-hour ride back to camp. Hot sun +in the open, cool wind in the shade, dry smells of the forest, green +and red and orange and purple of the foliage--these rendered the hours +pleasant for me. When I reached camp I found Romer in trouble. He had +cut his hand with a forbidden hunting knife. As he told me about it +his face was a study and his explanation was astounding. When he +finished I said: "You mean then that my hunting knife walked out of +its sheath on my belt and followed you around and cut you of its own +accord?" + +"Aw, I--I--it--" he floundered. + +Whereupon I lectured him about forbidden things and untruthfulness. +His reply was: "But, Dad, it hurts like sixty. Won't you put somethin' +on it?" + +I dressed and bandaged the trifling cut for him, telling him the while +how little Indian boys, when cut or kicked or bruised, never showed +that they were hurt. "Huh!" he grunted. "Guess there's no Indian in +me.... I must take after mother!" + +That afternoon and night the hounds straggled in, Old Tom and Dan +first, and then the others, one by one, fagged-out and foot-sore. Next +morning, however, they appeared none the worse for their long chase. +We went again to Horton Thicket to rout out a bear. + +This time I remained on top of the rim with R.C. and Nielsen; and we +took up a stand across the canyon, near where my first stand had +been. Here we idled the hours away waiting for the hounds to start +something. While walking along the rim I happened to look across the +big cove that cut into the promontory, and way on the other slope what +did I espy but a black bear. He appeared to be very small, or merely a +cub. Running back to R.C. and Nielsen I told them, and we all took up +our rifles. It occurred to me that the distance across this cove was +too far for accurate shooting, but it never occurred to me to jump on +my horse and ride around the head of the cove. + +"He's not scared. Let's watch him," suggested R.C. + +[Illustration: WILD TURKEYS] + +[Illustration: THE WHITE QUAKING ASPS] + +We saw this bear walk along, poke around, dig into the ground, go behind +trees, come out again, and finally stand up on his hind feet and +apparently reach for berries or something on a bush. R.C. bethought +himself of his field-glass. After one look he exclaimed: "Say, fellows, +he's a whopper of a bear! He'll weigh five hundred pounds. Just take a +look at him!" + +My turn with the glasses revealed to me that what I had imagined to be +a cub was indeed a big bear. After Nielsen looked he said: "Never saw +one so big in Norway." + +"Well, look at that black scoundrel!" exclaimed R.C. "Standing up! +Looking around! Wagging his head!... Say, you saw him first. Suppose +you take some pegs at him." + +"Wish Romer were here. I'd let him shoot at that bear," I replied. +Then I got down on my knee, and aiming as closely as possible I fired. +The report rang out in the stillness, making hollow echoes. We heard +the bullet pat somewhere. So did the bear hear it. Curiously he looked +around, as if something had struck near him. But scared he certainly +was not. Then I shot four times in quick succession. + +"Well, I'll be darned!" ejaculated R.C. "He heard the bullets hit and +wonders what the dickens.... Say, now he hears the reports! Look at +him stand!" + +"Boys, smoke him up," I said, after the manner of Haught's vernacular. +So while I reloaded R.C. and Nielsen began to shoot. We had more fun +out of it than the bear. Evidently he located us. Then he began to +run, choosing the open slope by which he had come. I got five more +shots at him as he crossed this space, and the last bullet puffed +up dust under him, making him take a header down the slope into +the thicket. Whereupon we all had a good laugh. Nielsen appeared +particularly pleased over his first shots at a real live bear. + +"Say, why didn't you think to ride round there?" queried R.C. +thoughtfully. "He didn't see us. He wasn't scared. In a few minutes +you could have been on the rim of that slope right over him. Got him +sure!" + +"R.C. why didn't you think to tell me to do that?" I retorted. "Why +don't we ever think the right thing before it is too late?" + +"That's our last chance this year--I feel it in my bones," declared +R.C. mournfully. + +His premonition turned out to be correct. Upon our arrival at camp we +heard some very disquieting news. A neighbor of Haught's had taken the +trouble to ride up to inform us about the epidemic of influenza. The +strange disease was all over the country, in the cities, the villages, +the cow-camps, the mines--everywhere. At first I thought Haught's +informant was exaggerating a mere rumor. But when he told of the +Indians dying on the reservations, and that in Flagstaff eighty +people had succumbed in a few weeks--then I was thoroughly alarmed. +Imperative was it indeed for me to make a decision at once. I made it +instantly. We would break camp. So I told the men. Doyle was relieved +and glad. He wanted to get home to his family. The Haughts, naturally, +were sorry. My decision once arrived at, the next thing was to +consider which way to travel. The long ten-day trip down into the +basin, round by Payson, and up on the rim again, and so on to +Flagstaff was not to be considered at all. The roads by way of Winslow +and Holbrook were long and bad. Doyle wanted to attempt the old army +road along the rim made by General Crook when he moved the captured +Apaches to the reservation assigned to them. No travel over this road +for many years! Haught looked dubious, but finally said we could chop +our way through thickets, and haul the wagon empty up bad hills. The +matter of decision was left to me. Decisions of such nature were not +easy to make. The responsibility was great, but as the hunt had been +for me it seemed incumbent upon me to accept responsibility. What made +me hesitate at all was the fact that I had ridden five miles or more +along the old Crook road. I remembered. I told Lee and I told Nielsen +that we would find it tough going. Lee laughed like a cowboy: "We'll +go a-hummin'," he said. Nielsen shrugged his brawny shoulders. What +were obstacles to this man of the desert? I realized that his look had +decided me. + +"All right, men, we'll try the old Crook road," I said. "Pack what you +can up to the wagon to-day, and to-morrow early we'll break camp." + +I walked with the Haughts from our camp across the brook to theirs, +where we sat down in the warm sunshine. I made light of this hunting +trip in which it had turned out I had no gun, no horse, no blankets, +no rain-proof tent, no adequate amount of food supplies, and no good +luck, except the wonderful good luck of being well, of seeing a +magnificent country, of meeting some more fine westerners. But the +Haughts appeared a little slow to grasp, or at least to credit my +philosophy. We were just beginning to get acquainted. Their regret was +that they had been unable to see me get a bear, a deer, a lion, and +some turkeys. Their conviction, perhaps formed from association with +many sportsman hunters, was that owing to my bad luck I could not and +would not want to come again. + +"See here, Haught," I said. "I've had a fine time. Now forget about +this hunt. It's past. We'll plan another. Will you save next fall for +me?" + +"I shore will," he replied. + +"Very well, then, it's settled. Say by August you and the boys cut +a trail or two in and out of Horton Thicket. I'll send you money in +advance to pay for this work, and get new hounds and outfit. I'll +leave Flagstaff on September fifteenth. Meet you here September +twenty-first, along about noon." + +We shook hands upon the deal. It pleased me that the Haughts laughed +at me yet appeared both surprised and happy. As I left I heard Edd +remark: "Not a kick!... Meet him next year at noon! What do you know +about thet?" This remark proved that he had paid me a compliment in +eastern slang most likely assimilated from R.C. and Romer. + +The rest of the afternoon our camp resembled a beehive, and next +morning it was more like a bedlam. The horses were fresh, spirited, +and they had tender backs; the burros stampeded because of some +surreptitious trick of Romer's. But by noon we had all the outfit +packed in the wagon. Considering the amount of stuff, and the long, +rough climb up to the wagon, this was a most auspicious start. I +hoped that it augured well for us, but while I hoped I had a gloomy +foreboding. We bade good-bye to Haught and his son George. Edd offered +to go with us as far as he knew the country, which distance was not +many miles. So we set out upon our doubtful journey, our saddle-horses +in front of the lumbering wagon. + +We had five miles of fairly level road through open forest along the +rim, and then we struck such a rocky jumble of downhill grade that the +bundles fell off the wagon. They had to be tied on. When we came to a +long slow slant uphill, a road of loose rocks, we made about one mile +an hour. This slow travel worked havoc upon my mind. I wanted to +hurry. I wanted to get out of the wilds. That awful rumor about +influenza occupied my mind and struck cold fear into my heart. What +of my family? No making the best of this! Slowly we toiled on. Sunset +overtook us at a rocky ledge which had to be surmounted. With lassos +on saddle horses in front of the two teams, all pulling hard, we +overcame that obstacle. But at the next little hill, which we +encountered about twilight, one of the team horses balked. Urging him, +whipping him, served no purpose; and it had bad effect upon the other +horses. Darkness was upon us with the camp-site Edd knew of still +miles to the fore. No grass, no water for the horses! But we had to +camp there. All hands set to work. It really was fun--it should have +been fine for me--but my gloomy obsession to hurry obscured my mind. +I marveled at old Doyle, over seventy, after that long, hard day, +quickly and efficiently cooking a good hot supper. Romer had enjoyed +the day. He said he was tired, but would like to stay up beside the +mighty camp-fire Nielsen built. I had neither energy or spirit to +oppose him. The night was dark and cold and windy; the fire felt so +good that I almost went asleep beside it. We had no time to put up +tents. I made our bed, crawled into it, stretched out with infinite +relief; and the last thing I was aware of was Romer snuggling in +beside me. + +Morning brought an early bestirring of every one. We had to stir to +get warm. The air nipped like cold pincers. All the horses were gone; +we could not hear a bell. But Lee did not appear worried. I groaned in +spirit. More delay! Gloom assailed me. Lee sallied out with his yellow +dog Pups. I had forgotten the good quality of Pups, but not my dislike +for him. He barked vociferously, and that annoyed me. R.C. and I +helped Edd and Nielsen pack the wagon. We worked quick and hard. Then +Doyle called us to breakfast. We had scarcely started to eat when we +heard a jangle of bells and the pound of hoofs. I could not believe +my ears. Our horses were lost. Nevertheless suddenly they appeared, +driven by Lee riding bareback, and Pups barking his head off. We all +jumped up with ropes and nose-bags to head off the horses, and soon +had them secured. Not one missing! I asked Lee how in the world he had +found that wild bunch in less than an hour. Lee laughed. "Pups. He +rounded them up in no time." + +Then I wanted to go away and hide behind a thicket and kick myself, +but what I actually did was to give Pups part of my meat. I reproached +myself for my injustice to him. How often had I been deceived in +the surface appearance of people and things and dogs! Most of our +judgments are wrong. We do not see clearly. + +By nine o'clock we were meeting our first obstacle--the little hill at +which the sorrel horse had balked. Lo! rested and full of grain, he +balked again! He ruined our start. He spoiled the teams. Lee had more +patience than I would have had. He unhitched the lead team and in +place of the sorrel put a saddle horse called Pacer. Then Doyle tried +again and surmounted the hill. Our saddle horses slowly worked ahead +over as rocky and rough a road as I ever traveled. Most of the time +we could see over the rim down into the basin. Along here the rim +appeared to wave in gentle swells, heavily timbered and thickly +rock-strewn, with heads of canyons opening down to our right. I saw +deer tracks and turkey tracks, neither of which occasioned me any +thrills now. About the middle of the afternoon Edd bade us farewell +and turned back. We were sorry to see him go, but as all the country +ahead of us was as unfamiliar to him as to us there seemed to be no +urgent need of him. + +We encountered a long, steep hill up which the teams, and our saddle +horses combined, could not pull the wagon. We unpacked it, and each of +us, Romer included, loaded a bundle or box in front of his saddle, and +took it up the hill. Then the teams managed the wagon. This incident +happened four times in less than as many miles. The team horses, +having had a rest from hard labor, had softened, and this sudden +return to strenuous pulling had made their shoulders sore. They either +could not or would not pull. We covered less than ten miles that day, +a very discouraging circumstance. We camped in a pine grove close to +the rim, a splendid site that under favorable circumstances would have +been enjoyable. At sunset R.C. and Nielsen and Romer saw a black bear +down under the rim. The incident was so wonderful for Romer that it +brightened my spirits. "A bear! A big bear, Dad!... I saw him! He was +alive! He stood up--like this--wagging his head. Oh! I saw him!" + +Our next day's progress was no less than a nightmare. Crawling along, +unpacking and carrying, and packing again, we toiled up and down the +interminable length of three almost impassable miles. When night +overtook us it was in a bad place to camp. No grass, no water! A cold +gale blew out of the west. It roared through the forest. It blew +everything loose away in the darkness. It almost blew us away in our +beds. The stars appeared radiantly coldly white up in the vast blue +windy vault of the sky. A full moon soared majestically. Shadows +crossed the weird moon-blanched forest glades. + +At daylight we were all up, cramped, stiff, half frozen, mostly +silent. The water left in the buckets was solid ice. Suddenly some +one discovered that Nielsen was missing. The fact filled me with +consternation and alarm. He might have walked in his sleep and fallen +over the rim. What had become of him? All his outfit lay scattered +round in his bed. In my bewilderment I imagined many things, even to +the extreme that he might have left us in the lurch. But when I got to +that sad pass of mind I suddenly awakened as if out of an evil dream. +My worry, my hurry had obsessed me. High time indeed was it for me to +meet this situation as I had met other difficult ones. To this end I +went out away from camp, and forgot myself, my imagined possibilities, +and thought of my present responsibility, and the issue at hand. That +instant I realized my injustice toward Nielsen, and reproached myself. + +Upon my return to camp Nielsen was there, warming one hand over the +camp-fire and holding a cup of coffee in the other. + +"Nielsen, you gave us a scare. Please explain," I said. + +"Yes, sir. Last night I was worried. I couldn't sleep. I got to +thinking we were practically lost. Some one ought to find out what was +ahead of us. So I got up and followed the road. Bright moonlight. I +walked all the rest of the night. And that's all, sir." + +I liked Nielsen's looks then. He reminded me of Jim Emett, the +Mormon giant to whom difficulties and obstacles were but spurs to +achievement. Such men could not be defeated. + +"Well, what did you find out?" I inquired. + +"Change of conditions, sir," he replied, as a mate to his captain. +"Only one more steep hill so far as I went. But we'll have to cut +through thickets and logs. From here on the road is all grown over. +About ten miles west we turn off the rim down a ridge." + +That about the turning-off place was indeed good news. I thanked +Nielsen. And Doyle appeared immensely relieved. The packing and +carrying had begun to tell on us. Pups ingratiated himself into my +affections. He found out that he could coax meat and biscuit from me. +We had three axes and a hatchet; and these we did not pack in the +wagon. When Doyle finally got the teams started Lee and Nielsen and +R.C. and I went ahead to clear the road. Soon we were halted by +thickets of pines, some of which were six inches in diameter at the +base. The road had ceased to be rocky, and that, no doubt, was the +reason pine thickets had grown up on it, The wagon kept right at our +heels, and many times had to wait. We cut a way through thickets, tore +rotten logs to pieces, threw stumps aside, and moved windfalls. Brawny +Nielsen seemed ten men in one! What a swath he hacked with his big +axe! When I rested, which circumstance grew oftener and oftener, I had +to watch Nielsen with his magnificent swing of the axe, or with his +mighty heave on a log. Time and again he lifted tree trunks out of the +road. He sweat till he was wringing wet. Neither that day nor the next +would we have ever gotten far along that stretch of thicketed and +obstructed road had it not been for Nielsen. + +At sunset we found ourselves at the summit of a long slowly ascending +hill, deeply forested. It took all the horses together to pull the +wagon to the top. Thus when we started down a steep curve, horses and +men both were tired. I was ahead riding beside Romer. Nielsen and R.C. +were next, and Lee had fallen in behind the wagon. As I turned the +sharp curve I saw not fifty feet below me a huge log obstructing the +road. + +"Look out! Stop!" I yelled, looking back. + +But I was too late. The horses could not hold back the heavily +laden wagon, and they broke into a gallop. I saw Doyle's face turn +white--heard him yell. Then I spurred my horse to the side. Romer was +slow or frightened. I screamed at him to get off the road. My heart +sank sick within me! Surely he would be run down. As his pony Rye +jumped out of the way the shoulder of the black horse, on the off +side, struck him a glancing blow. Then the big team hurdled the log, +the tongue struck with a crash, the wagon stopped with a lurch, and +Doyle was thrown from his seat. + +Quick as a flash Nielsen was on the spot beside the team. The bay +horse was down. The black horse was trying to break away. Nielsen cut +and pulled the bay free of the harness, and Lee came tearing down to +grasp and hold the black. + +Like a fool I ran around trying to help somehow, but I did not know +what to do. I smelled and then saw blood, which fact convinced me +of disaster. Only the black horse that had hurdled the log made +any effort to tear away. The other lay quiet. When finally it was +extricated we found that the horse had a bad cut in the breast made +by a snag on the log. We could find no damage done to the wagon. The +harness Nielsen had cut could be mended quickly. What a fortunate +outcome to what had seemed a very grave accident! I was thankful +indeed. But not soon would I forget sight of Romer in front of that +plunging wagon. + +With the horses and a rope we hauled the log to one side of the road, +and hitching up again we proceeded on our way. Once I dropped back +and asked Doyle if he was all right. "Fine as a fiddle," he shouted. +"This's play to what we teamsters had in the early days." And verily +somehow I could see the truth of that. A mile farther on we made camp; +and all of us were hungry, weary, and quiet. + +Doyle proved a remarkable example to us younger men. Next morning +he crawled out before any one else, and his call was cheery. I was +scarcely able to get out of my bed, but I was ashamed to lie there +an instant after I heard Doyle. Possibly my eyesight was dulled by +exhaustion when it caused me to see myself as a worn, unshaven, +wrinkled wretch. Romer-boy did not hop out with his usual alacrity. +R.C. had to roll over in his bed and get up on all fours. + +We had scant rations for three more days. It behooved us to work and +waste not an hour. All morning, at the pace of a snail it seemed, we +chopped and lifted and hauled our way along that old Crook road. Not +since my trip down the Santa Rosa river in Mexico had I labored so +strenuously. + +At noon we came to the turning-off junction, an old blazed road Doyle +had some vague knowledge of. "It must lead to Jones' ranch," Doyle +kept saying. "Anyway, we've got to take it." North was our direction. +And to our surprise, and exceeding gladness, the road down this ridge +proved to be a highway compared to what we had passed. In the open +forest we had to follow it altogether by the blazes on the trees. But +with all our eyes alert that was easy. The grade was down hill, so +that we traveled fast, covering four miles an hour. Occasionally a +log or thicket halted rapid progress. Toward the end of the afternoon +sheep and cattle trails joined the now well-defined road, and we knew +we were approaching a ranch. I walked, or rather limped the last mile, +for the very good reason that I could not longer bear the trot of +my horse. The forest grew more open, with smaller pines, and fewer +thickets. At sunset I came out upon the brow of a deep barren-looking +canyon, in the middle of which squatted some old ruined log-cabins. +Deserted! Alas for my visions of a cup of cold milk. For hours they +had haunted me. When Doyle saw the broken-down cabins and corrals he +yelled: "Boys, it's Jones' Ranch. I've been here. We're only three +miles from Long Valley and the main road!" + +Elated we certainly were. And we rushed down the steep hill to look +for water. All our drinking water was gone, and the horses had not +slaked their thirst for two days. Separating we rode up and down the +canyon. R.C. and Romer found running water. Thereupon with immense +relief and joy we pitched camp near the cabins, forgetting our aches +and pains in the certainty of deliverance. + +What a cold, dismal, bleak, stony, and lonesome place! We unpacked +only bedding, and our little store of food. And huddled around the +camp-fire we waited upon Doyle's cooking. The old pioneer talked while +he worked. + +"Jones' ranch!--I knew Jones in the early days. And I've heard of him +lately. Thirty years ago he rode a prairie schooner down into this +canyon. He had his wife, a fine, strong girl, and he had a gun, an +axe, some chuck, a few horses and cattle, and not much else. He built +him that cabin there and began the real old pioneering of the early +days. He raised cattle. He freighted to the settlements twice a year. +In twenty-five years he had three strapping boys and a girl just as +strapping. And he had a fortune in cattle. Then he sold his stock and +left this ranch. He wanted to give his faithful wife and his children +some of the comforts and luxuries and advantages of civilization. The +war came. His sons did not wait for the draft. They entered the army. +I heard a story about Abe Jones, the old man's first boy. Abe was a +quiet sort of chap. When he got to the army training camp a sergeant +asked Abe if he could shoot. Abe said: 'Nope, not much.' So they gave +him a rifle and told him to shoot at the near target. Abe looked at +it sort of funny like and he picked out the farthest target at one +thousand yards. And he hit the bull's eye ten times straight running. +'Hey!' gasped the sergeant, 'you long, lanky galoot! You said you +couldn't shoot.' Abe sort of laughed. 'Reckon I was thinkin' about +what Dad called shootin'.'... Well, Abe and his brothers got to France +to the front. Abe was a sharpshooter. He was killed at Argonne. Both +his brothers were wounded. They're over there yet.... I met a man not +long ago who'd seen Jones recently. And the old pioneer said he and +his wife would like to be back home. And home to them means right +here--Jones' Ranch!" + +Doyle's story affected me profoundly. What a theme for a novel! I +walked away from the camp-fire into the dark, lonely, melancholy +Arizona night. The ruined cabins, the broken-down corrals, the stone +fence, the wash where water ran at wet season--all had subtly changed +for me. Leaning in the doorway of the one-room cabin that had been +home for these Joneses I was stirred to my depths. Their spirits +abided in that lonely hut. At least I felt something there--something +strange, great, simple, inevitable, tragic as life itself. Yet what +could have been more beautiful, more splendid than the life of Jones, +and his wife, and daughter, and sons, especially Abe? Abe Jones! The +name haunted me. In one clear divining flash I saw the life of the +lad. I yearned with tremendous passion for the power to tell the +simplicity, the ruggedness, the pathos and the glory of his story. +The moan of wind in the pines seemed a requiem for the boy who had +prattled and romped and played under them, who had chopped and shot +and rode under them. Into his manhood had gone something of their +strength and nature. + +We sought our beds early. The night down in that deep, open canyon was +the coldest we had experienced. I slept but little. At dawn all was +hoar-white with frost. It crackled under foot. The air had a stinging +bite. Yet how sweet, pure, cold to breathe! + +Doyle's cheery: "Come and get it," was welcome call to breakfast. Lee +and Pups drove the horses into one of the old corrals. In an hour, +while the frost was yet hard and white, we were ready to start. Then +Doyle somewhat chilled our hopes: "Twenty years ago there was a bad +road out of here. Maybe one's been made since." + +But one had not been made. And the old road had not been used for +years. Right at the outset we struck a long, steep, winding, rocky +road. We got stalled at the very foot of it. More toil! Unloading the +wagon we packed on our saddles the whole load more than a mile up this +last and crowning obstacle. Then it took all the horses together to +pull the empty wagon up to a level. By that time sunset had overtaken +us. Where had the hours gone? Nine hours to go one mile! But there had +to be an end to our agonies. By twilight we trotted down into Long +Valley, and crossed the main road to camp in a grove we remembered +well. We partook of a meagre supper, but we were happy. And bed that +night on a thick layer of soft pine needles, in a spot protected from +the cold wind, was immensely comfortable. + +Lee woke the crowd next morning. "All rustle," he yelled. "Thirty-five +miles to Mormon Lake. Good road. We'll camp there to-night." + +How strange that the eagerness to get home now could only be compared +to the wild desire for the woods a few weeks back! We made an early +start. The team horses knew that road. They knew they were now on the +way home. What difference that made! Jaded as they were they trotted +along with a briskness never seen before on that trip. It began to be +a job for us to keep up with Lee, who was on the wagon. Unless a rider +is accustomed to horseback almost all of the time a continuous trot on +a hard road will soon stove him up. My horse had an atrocious trot. +Time and again I had to fall behind to a walk and then lope ahead +to catch up. I welcomed the hills that necessitated Lee walking the +teams. + +At noon we halted in a grassy grove for an hour's rest. That seemed +a precious hour, but to start again was painful. I noticed that +Romer-boy no longer rode out far in front, nor did he chase squirrels +with Pups. He sagged, twisted and turned, and lolled in his saddle. +Thereafter I tried to keep close to him. But that was not easy, for +he suspected me of seeing how tired he was, and kept away from me. +Thereafter I took to spying upon him from some distance behind. We +trotted and walked, trotted and walked the long miles. Arizona miles +were twice as long as ordinary properly measured miles. An event of +the afternoon was to meet some Mexican sheepherders, driving a flock +south. Nielsen got some fresh mutton from them. Toward sunset I caught +Romer hanging over his saddle. Then I rode up to him. "Son, are you +tired?" I asked. "Oh, Dad, I sure am, but I'm going to ride Rye to +Mormon Lake." I believed he would accomplish it. His saddle slipped, +letting him down. I saw him fall. When he made no effort to get up I +was frightened. Rye stood perfectly still over him. I leaped off and +ran to the lad. He had hit his head on a stone, drawing the blood, and +appeared to be stunned. I lifted him, holding him up, while somebody +got some water. We bathed his face and washed off the blood. Presently +he revived, and smiled at me, and staggered out of my hold. + +"Helluva note that saddle slipped!" he complained. Manifestly he had +acquired some of Joe Isbel's strong language. Possibly he might have +acquired some other of the cowboy's traits, for he asked to have his +saddle straightened and to be put on his horse. I had misgivings, but +I could not resist him then. I lifted him upon Rye. Once more our +cavalcade got under way. + +Sunset, twilight, night came as we trotted on and on. We faced a cold +wind. The forest was black, gloomy, full of shadows. Lee gave us all +we could do to keep up with him. At eight o'clock, two hours after +dark, we reached the southern end of Mormon Lake. A gale, cold as ice, +blew off the water from the north. Half a dozen huge pine trees stood +on the only level ground near at hand. "Nielsen, fire--pronto!" I +yelled. "Aye, sir," he shouted, in his deep voice. Then what with +hurry and bustle to get my bedding and packs, and to thresh my +tingling fingers, and press my frozen ears, I was selfishly busy a few +minutes before I thought of Romer. + +Nielsen had started a fire, that blazed and roared with burning pine +needles. The blaze blew low, almost on a level with the ground, and a +stream of red sparks flew off into the woods. I was afraid of forest +fire. But what a welcome sight that golden flame! It lighted up a wide +space, showing the huge pines, gloom-encircled, and a pale glimmer of +the lake beyond. The fragrance of burning pine greeted my nostrils. + +Dragging my bags I hurried toward the fire. Nielsen was building a +barricade of rocks to block the flying sparks. Suddenly I espied +Romer. He sat on a log close to the blaze. His position struck me as +singular, so I dropped my burdens and went to him. He had on a heavy +coat over sweater and under coat, which made him resemble a little old +man. His sombrero was slouched down sidewise, his gloved hands were +folded across his knees, his body sagged a little to one side, his +head drooped. He was asleep. I got around so I could see his face +in the firelight. Pale, weary, a little sad, very youthful and yet +determined! A bloody bruise showed over his temple. He had said he +would ride all the way to Mormon Lake and he had done it. Never, never +will that picture fade from my memory! Dear, brave, wild, little lad! +He had made for me a magnificent success of this fruitless hunting +trip. I hoped and prayed then that when he grew to man's estate, and +faced the long rides down the hard roads of life, he would meet them +and achieve them as he had the weary thirty-five Arizona miles from +Long Valley to Mormon Lake. + +[Illustration: SKUNK, A FREQUENT AND RATHER DANGEROUS VISITOR IN CAMP] + +[Illustration: ON THE RIM] + +[Illustration: WHERE ELK, DEER, AND TURKEY DRINK] + +Mutton tasted good that night around our camp-fire; and Romer ate a +generous portion. A ranger from the station near there visited us, and +two young ranchers, who told us that the influenza epidemic was waning. +This was news to be thankful for. Moreover, I hired the two ranchers to +hurry us by auto to Flagstaff on the morrow. So right there at Mormon +Lake ended our privations. + +Under one of the huge pines I scraped up a pile of needles, made +Romer's bed in it, heated a blanket and wrapped him in it. Almost he +was asleep when he said: "Some ride, Dad--Good-night." + +Later, beside him, I lay awake a while, watching the sparks fly, and +the shadows flit, feeling the cold wind on my face, listening to the +crackle of the fire and the roar of the gale. + + +IV + +Eventually R.C. and Romer and I arrived in Los Angeles to find all +well with our people, which fact was indeed something to rejoice over. +Hardly had this 1918 trip ended before I began to plan for that of +1919. But I did not realize how much in earnest I was until I received +word that both Lee Doyle in Flagstaff and Nielsen in San Pedro were +very ill with influenza. Lee all but died, and Nielsen, afterward, +told me he would rather die than have the "flu" again. To my great +relief, however, they recovered. + +From that time then it pleased me to begin to plan for my 1919 hunting +trip. I can never do anything reasonably. I always overdo everything. +But what happiness I derive from anticipation! When I am not working +I live in dreams, partly of the past, but mostly of the future. A man +should live only in the present. + +I gave Lee instructions to go about in his own way buying teams, +saddle horses, and wagons. For Christmas I sent him a .35 Remington +rifle. Mr. Haught got instructions to add some new dogs to his pack. I +sent Edd also a .35 Remington, and made Nielsen presents of two guns. +In January Nielsen and I went to Picacho, on the lower Colorado river, +and then north to Death Valley. So that I kept in touch with these men +and did not allow their enthusiasm to wane. For myself and R.C. I had +the fun of ordering tents and woolen blankets, and everything that we +did not have on our 1918 trip. But owing to the war it was difficult +to obtain goods of any description. To make sure of getting a .30 +Gov't Winchester I ordered from four different firms, including the +Winchester Co. None of them had such a rifle in stock, but all would +try to find one. The upshot of this deal was that, when after months I +despaired of getting any, they all sent me a rifle at the same time. +So I found myself with four, all the same caliber of course, but of +different style and finish. When I saw them and thought of the +Haughts I had to laugh. One was beautifully engraved, and inlaid with +gold--the most elaborate .30 Gov't the Winchester people had ever +built. Another was a walnut-stocked, shot-gun butted, fancy checkered +take-down. This one I presented to R.C. The third was a plain ordinary +rifle with solid frame. And the last was a carbine model, which I gave +to Nielsen. + +During the summer at Avalon I used to take the solid frame rifle, and +climb the hills to practice on targets. At Clemente Island I used to +shoot at the ravens. I had a grudge against ravens there for picking +the eyes out of newly born lambs. At five hundred yards a raven was in +danger from me. I could make one jump at even a thousand yards. These +.30 Gov't 1906 rifles with 150-grain bullet are the most wonderful +shooting arms I ever tried. I became expert at inanimate targets. + +From time to time I heard encouraging news from Lee about horses. Edd +wrote me about lion tracks in the snow, and lynx up cedar trees, and +gobblers four feet high, and that there was sure to be a good crop +of acorns, and therefore some bears. He told me about a big grizzly +cow-killer being chased and shot in Chevelon Canyon. News about +hounds, however, was slow in coming. Dogs were difficult to find. +At length Haught wrote me that he had secured two; and in this same +letter he said the boys were cutting trails down under the rim. + +Everything pertaining to my cherished plans appeared to be turning +out well. But during this time I spent five months at hard work and +intense emotional strain, writing the longest novel I ever attempted; +and I over-taxed my endurance. By the middle of June, when I finished, +I was tired out. That would not have mattered if I had not hurt my +back in an eleven-hour fight with a giant broadbill swordfish. This +strain kept me from getting in my usual physical trim. I could not +climb the hills, or exert myself. Swimming hurt me more than anything. +So I had to be careful and wait until my back slowly got better. By +September it had improved, but not enough to make me feel any thrills +over horseback riding. It seemed to me that I would be compelled to +go ahead and actually work the pain out of my back, an ordeal through +which I had passed before, and surely dreaded. + +During the summer I had purchased a famous chestnut sorrel horse named +Don Carlos. He was much in demand among the motion-picture companies +doing western plays; and was really too fine and splendid a horse to +be put to the risks common to the movies. I saw him first at Palm +Springs, down in southern California, where my book _Desert Gold_ was +being made into a motion-picture. Don would not have failed to strike +any one as being a wonderful horse. He was tremendously high and rangy +and powerful in build, yet graceful withal, a sleek, shiny chestnut +red in color, with fine legs, broad chest, and a magnificent head. I +rode him only once before I bought him, and that was before I hurt my +back. His stride was what one would expect from sight of him; his trot +seemed to tear me to pieces; his spirit was such that he wanted to +prance all the time. But in spite of his spirit he was a pet. And +how he could run! Nielsen took Don to Flagstaff by express. And when +Nielsen wrote me he said all of Flagstaff came down to the station to +see the famous Don Carlos. The car in which he had traveled was backed +alongside a platform. Don refused to step on the boards they placed +from platform to car. He did not trust them. Don's intelligence had +been sharpened by his experience with the movies. Nielsen tried to +lead, to coax, and to drive Don to step on the board walk. Don would +not go. But suddenly he snorted, and jumped the space clear, to plunge +and pound down upon the platform, scattering the crowd like quail. + +The day before my departure from Los Angeles was almost as terrible an +ordeal as I anticipated would be my first day's ride on Don Carlos. +And this ordeal consisted of listening to Romer's passionate appeals +and importunities to let him go on the hunt. My only defence was that +he must not be taken from school. School forsooth! He was way ahead of +his class. If he got behind he could make it up. I talked and argued. +Once he lost his temper, a rare thing with him, and said he would run +away from school, ride on a freight train to Flagstaff, steal a horse +and track me to my camp. I could not say very much in reply to this +threat, because I remembered that I had made worse to my father, and +carried it out. I had to talk sense to Romer. Often we had spoken of +a wonderful hunt in Africa some day, when he was old enough; and I +happened upon a good argument. I said: "You'll miss a year out of +school then. It won't be so very long. Don't you think you ought to +stay in school faithfully now?" So in the end I got away from him, +victorious, though not wholly happy. The truth was I wanted him to go. + +My Jap cook Takahashi met me in Flagstaff. He was a very short, very +broad, very muscular little fellow with a brown, strong face, more +pleasant than usually seen in Orientals. Secretly I had made sure that +in Takahashi I had discovered a treasure, but I was careful to conceal +this conviction from R.C., the Doyles, and Nielsen. They were glad to +see him with us, but they manifestly did not expect wonders. + +How brief the span of a year! Here I was in Flagstaff again outfitting +for another hunt. It seemed incredible. It revived that old haunting +thought about the shortness of life. But in spite of that or perhaps +more because of it the pleasure was all the keener. In truth the only +drawback to this start was the absence of Romer, and my poor physical +condition. R.C. appeared to be in fine fettle. + +But I was not well. In the mornings I could scarcely arise, and when +I did so I could hardly straighten myself. More than once I grew +doubtful of my strength to undertake such a hard trip. This doubt I +fought fiercely, for I knew that the right thing for me to do was +to go--to stand the pain and hardship--to toil along until my old +strength and elasticity returned. What an opportunity to try out my +favorite theory! For I believed that labor and pain were good for +mankind--that strenuous life in the open would cure any bodily ill. + +On September fourteenth Edd and George drifted into Flagstaff to join +us, and their report of game and water and grass and acorns was so +favorable that I would have gone if I had been unable to ride on +anything but a wagon. + + +We got away on September fifteenth at two-thirty o'clock with such an +outfit as I had never had in all my many trips put together. We had a +string of saddle horses besides those the men rode. They were surely a +spirited bunch; and that first day it was indeed a job to keep them with +us. Out of sheer defiance with myself I started on Don Carlos. He was no +trouble, except that it took all my strength to hold him in. He tossed +his head, champed his bit, and pranced sideways along the streets of +Flagstaff, manifestly to show off his brand new black Mexican saddle, +with silver trappings and tapaderos. I was sure that he did not do that +to show me off. But Don liked to dance and prance along before a crowd, +a habit that he had acquired with the motion pictures. + +Lee and Nielsen and George had their difficulties driving the free +horses. Takahashi rode a little buckskin Navajo mustang. An evidence of +how extremely short the Jap's legs were made itself plain in the fact +that stirrups could not be fixed so he could reach them with his feet. +When he used any support at all he stuck his feet through the straps +above the stirrups. How funny his squat, broad figure looked in a +saddle! Evidently he was not accustomed to horses. When I saw the +mustang roll the white of his eyes and glance back at Takahashi then I +knew something would happen sooner or later. + +Nineteen miles on Don Carlos reduced me to a miserable aching specimen +of manhood. But what made me endure and go on and finish to camp was the +strange fact that the longer I rode the less my back pained. Other parts +of my anatomy, however, grew sorer as we progressed. Don Carlos pleased +me immensely, only I feared he was too much horse for me. A Mormon +friend of mine, an Indian trader, looked Don over in Flagstaff, and +pronounced him: "Shore one grand hoss!" This man had broken many wild +horses, and his compliment pleased me. All the same the nineteen miles +on Don hurt my vanity almost as much as my body. + +We camped in a cedar pasture off the main road. This road was a new one +for us to take to our hunting grounds. I was too bunged up to help +Nielsen pitch our tent. In fact when I sat down I was anchored. Still I +could use my eyes, and that made life worth living. Sunset was a +gorgeous spectacle. The San Francisco Peaks were shrouded in purple +storm-clouds, and the west was all gold and silver, with low clouds +rimmed in red. This sunset ended in a great flare of dull magenta with a +background of purple. + +That evening was the try-out of our new chuck-box and chef. I had +supplied the men with their own outfit and supplies, to do with as they +liked, an arrangement I found to be most satisfactory. Takahashi was to +take care of R.C. and me. In less than half an hour from the time the +Jap lighted a fire he served the best supper I ever had in camp +anywhere. R.C. lauded him to the skies. And I began to think I could +unburden myself of my conviction. + +I did not awaken to the old zest and thrill of the open. Something was +wrong with me. The sunset, the camp-fire, the dark clear night with its +trains of stars, the distant yelp of coyotes--these seemed less to me +than what I had hoped for. My feelings were locked round my discomfort +and pain. + +About noon next day we rode out of the cedars into the open desert--a +rolling, level land covered with fine grass, and yellow daisies, Indian +paint brush, and a golden flowering weed. This luxuriance attested to +the copious and recent rains. They had been a boon to dry Arizona. No +sage showed or greasewood, and very few rocks. The sun burned hot. I +gazed out at the desert, and the cloud pageant in the sky, trying hard +to forget myself, and to see what I knew was there for me. Rolling +columnar white and cream clouds, majestic and beautiful, formed storms +off on the horizon. Sunset on the open desert that afternoon was +singularly characteristic of Arizona--purple and gold and red, with long +lanes of blue between the colored cloud banks. + +We made camp at Meteor Crater, one of the many wonders of this +wonderland. It was a huge hole in the earth over five hundred feet deep, +said to have been made by a meteor burying itself there. Seen from the +outside the slope was gradual up to the edges, which were scalloped and +irregular; on the inside the walls were precipitous. Our camp was on the +windy desert, a long sweeping range of grass, sloping down, dotted with +cattle, with buttes and mountains in the distance. Most of my sensations +of the day partook of the nature of woe. + +September seventeenth bade fair to be my worst day--at least I did not +see how any other could ever be so bad. Glaring hot sun--reflected heat +from I the bare road--dust and sand and wind! Particularly hard on me +were what the Arizonians called dust-devils, whirlwinds of sand. On and +off I walked a good many miles, the latter of which I hobbled. Don +Carlos did not know what to make of this. He eyed me, and nosed me, and +tossed his head as if to say I was a strange rider for him. Like my +mustang, Night, he would not stand to be mounted. When I touched the +stirrup that was a signal to go. He had been trained to it. As he was +nearly seventeen hands high, and as I could not get my foot in the +stirrup from level ground, to mount him in my condition seemed little +less than terrible. I always held back out of sight when I attempted +this. Many times I failed. Once I fell flat and lay a moment in the +dust. Don Carlos looked down upon me in a way I imagined was +sympathetic. At least he bent his noble head and smelled at me. I +scrambled to my feet, led him round into a low place, and drawing a deep +breath, and nerving myself to endure the pain like a stab, I got into +the saddle again. + +Two things sustained me in this ordeal, which was the crudest horseback +ride I ever had--first, the conviction that I could cure my ills by +enduring the agony of violent action, of hot sun, of hard bed; and +secondly, the knowledge that after it was all over the remembrance of +hardship and achievement would be singularly sweet. So it had been in +the case of the five days on the old Crook road in 1918, when extreme +worry and tremendous exertion had made the hours hideous. So it had been +with other arduous and poignant experiences. A poet said that the crown +of sorrow was in remembering happier times: I believed that there was a +great deal of happiness in remembering times of stress, of despair, of +extreme and hazardous effort. Anyway, without these two feelings in my +mind I would have given up riding Don Carlos that day, and have +abandoned the trip. + +We covered twenty-two miles by sundown, a rather poor day's showing; and +camped on the bare flat desert, using water and wood we had packed with +us. The last thing I remembered, as my eyes closed heavily, was what a +blessing it was to rest and to sleep. + +Next day we sheered off to the southward, heading toward Chevelon Butte, +a black cedared mountain, rising lone out of the desert, thirty miles +away. We crossed two streams bank full of water, a circumstance I never +before saw in Arizona. Everywhere too the grass was high. We climbed +gradually all day, everybody sunburned and weary, the horses settling +down to save themselves; and we camped high up on the desert plateau, +six thousand feet above sea level, where it was windy, cool, and +fragrant with sage and cedar. Except the first few, the hours of this +day each marked a little less torture for me; but at that I fell off +Don Carlos when we halted. And I was not able to do my share of the camp +work. R.C. was not as spry and chipper as I had seen him, a fact from +which I gathered infinite consolation. Misery loves company. + +A storm threatened. All the west was purple under on-coming purple +clouds. At sight of this something strange and subtle, yet familiar, +revived in me. It made me feel a little more like the self I thought I +knew. So I watched the lightning flare and string along the horizon. +Some time in the night thunder awakened me. The imminence of a severe +storm forced us to roll out and look after the tent. What a pitch black +night! Down through the murky, weird blackness shot a wonderful zigzag +rope of lightning, blue-white, dazzling; and it disintegrated, leaving +segments of fire in the air. All this showed in a swift flash--then we +were absolutely blind. I could not see for several moments. It rained a +little. Only the edge of the storm touched us. Thunder rolled and boomed +along the battlements, deep and rumbling and detonating. + +No dust or heat next morning! The desert floor appeared clean and damp, +with fresh gray sage and shining bunches of cedar. We climbed into the +high cedars, and then to the piñons, and then to the junipers and pines. +Climbing so out of desert to forestland was a gradual and accumulating +joy to me. What contrast in vegetation, in air, in color! Still the +forest consisted of small trees. Not until next day did we climb farther +to the deepening, darkening forest, and at last to the silver spruce. +That camp, the fifth night out, was beside a lake of surface water, +where we had our first big camp-fire. + +September twenty-first and ten miles from Beaver Dam Canyon, where a +year before I had planned to meet Haught this day and date at noon! I +could make that appointment, saddle-sore and weary as I was, but I +doubted we could get the wagons there. The forest ground was soft. All +the little swales were full of water. How pleasant, how welcome, how +beautiful and lonely the wild forestland! We made advance slowly. It was +afternoon by the time we reached the rim road, and four o'clock when we +halted at the exact spot where we had left our wagon the year before. + +Lee determined to drive the wagons down over the rocky benches into +Beaver Dam Canyon; and to that end he and the men began to cut pines, +drag logs, and roll stones. + +R.C. and I rode down through the forest, crossing half a dozen swift +little streams of amber water, where a year before all had been dry as +tinder. We found Haught's camp in a grove of yellowing aspens. Haught +was there to meet us. He had not changed any more than the rugged pine +tree under which a year past we had made our agreement. He wore the same +blue shirt and the old black sombrero. + +"Hello Haught," was my greeting, as I dismounted and pulled out my +watch. "I'm four hours and a quarter late. Sorry. I could have made it, +but didn't want to leave the wagons." + +"Wal, wal, I shore am glad to see you," he replied, with a keen flash in +his hazel eyes and a smile on his craggy face. "I reckoned you'd make +it. How are you? Look sort of fagged." + +"Just about all in, Haught," I replied, as we shook hands. + +Then Copple appeared, swaggering out of the aspens. He was the man I met +in Payson and who so kindly had made me take his rifle. I had engaged +him also for this hunt. A brawny man he was, with powerful shoulders, +swarthy-skinned, and dark-eyed, looking indeed the Indian blood he +claimed. + +"Wouldn't have recognized you anywhere's else," he said. + +These keen-eyed outdoor men at a glance saw the havoc work and pain had +played with me. They were solicitous, and when I explained my condition +they made light of that, and showed relief that I was not ill. "Saw wood +an' rustle around," said Haught. And Copple said: "He needs venison an' +bear meat." + +They rode back with us up to the wagons. Copple had been a freighter. He +picked out a way to drive down into the canyon. So rough and steep it +was that I did not believe driving down would be possible. But with axes +and pick and shovel, and a heaving of rocks, they worked a road that Lee +drove down. Some places were almost straight down. But the ground was +soft, hoofs and wheels sank deeply, and though one wagon lurched almost +over, and the heavily laden chuck-wagon almost hurdled the team, Lee +made the bad places without accident. Two hours after our arrival, such +was the labor of many strong hands, we reached our old camp ground. One +thing was certain, however, and that was we would never get back up the +way we came down. + +Except for a luxuriance of grass and ferns, and two babbling streams of +water, our old camp ground had not changed. I sat down with mingled +emotions. How familiarly beautiful and lonely this canyon glade! The +great pines and spruces looked down upon me with a benediction. How +serene, passionless, strong they seemed! It was only men who changed in +brief time. The long year of worry and dread and toil and pain had +passed. It was nothing. On the soft, fragrant, pine-scented breeze came +a whispering of welcome from the forestland: "You are here again. Live +now--in the present." + +Takahashi beamed upon me: "More better place to camp," he said, +grinning. Already the Jap had won my admiration and liking. His ability +excited my interest, and I wanted to know more about him. As to this +camp-site being a joy compared to the ones stretched back along the road +he was assuredly right. That night we did no more than eat and unroll +our beds. But next day there set in the pleasant tasks of unpacking, +putting up tents and flies, cutting spruce for thick, soft beds, and a +hundred odd jobs dear to every camper. Takahashi would not have any one +help him. He dug a wide space for fires, erected a stone windbreak, and +made two ovens out of baked mud, the like of which, and the cleverness +of which I had never seen. He was a whirlwind for work. + +The matter of firewood always concerned Nielsen and me more than any +one. Nielsen was a Norwegian, raised as a boy to use a crosscut saw; and +as for me I was a connoisseur in camp-fires and a lover of them. Hence +we had brought a crosscut saw--a long one with two handles. I remembered +from the former year a huge dead pine that had towered bleached and +white at the edge of the glade. It stood there still. The storms and +blasts of another winter had not changed it in the least. It was five +feet thick at the base and solid. Nielsen chopped a notch in it on the +lower side, and then he and Edd began to saw into it on the other. I saw +the first tremor of the lofty top. Then soon it shivered all the way +down, gave forth a loud crack, swayed slowly, and fell majestically, to +strike with a thundering crash. Only the top of this pine broke in the +fall, but there were splinters and knots and branches enough to fill a +wagon. These we carried up to our camp-fire. + +Then the boys sawed off half a dozen four-foot sections, which served +as fine, solid, flat tables for comfort around camp. The method of using +a crosscut saw was for two men to take a stand opposite one another, +with the log between. The handles of the saw stood upright. Each man +should pull easily and steadily toward himself, but should not push back +nor bear down. It looked a rhythmic, manly exercise, and not arduous. +But what an illusion! Nielsen and Copple were the only ones that day who +could saw wholly through the thick log without resting. Later Takahashi +turned out to be as good, if not better, than either of them, but we had +that, as well as many other wonderful facts, to learn about the Jap. + +"Come on," said R.C. to me, invitingly. "You've been talking about this +crosscut saw game. I'll bet you find it harder than pulling on a +swordfish." + +Pride goes before a fall! I knew that in my condition I could do little +with the saw, but I had to try. R.C. was still fresh when I had to rest. +Perhaps no one except myself realized the weakness of my back, but the +truth was a couple of dozen pulls on that saw almost made me collapse. +Wherefore I grew furious with myself and swore I would do it or die. I +sawed till I fell over--then I rested and went back at it. Half an hour +of this kind of exercise gave me a stab in my left side infinitely +sharper than the pain in my back. Also it made me wringing wet, hot as +fire, and as breathless as if I had run a mile up hill. That experience +determined me to stick to crosscut sawing every day. Next morning I +approached it with enthusiasm, yet with misgivings. I could not keep my +breath. Pain I could and did bear without letting on. But to have to +stop was humiliating. If I tried to keep up with the sturdy Haught boys, +or with the brawny Copple or the giant Nielsen, soon I would be +compelled to keel over. In the sawing through a four-foot section of log +I had to rest eight times. They all had a great deal of fun out of it, +and I pretended to be good natured, but to me who had always been so +vigorous and active and enduring it was not fun. It was tragic. But all +was not gloom for me. This very afternoon Nielsen, the giant, showed +that a stiff climb out of the canyon, at that eight thousand feet +altitude, completely floored him. Yet I accomplished that with +comparative ease. I could climb, which seemed proof that I was gaining. +A man becomes used to certain labors and exercises. I thought the +crosscut saw a wonderful tool to train a man, but it must require time. +It harked back to pioneer days when men were men. Nielsen said he had +lived among Mexican boys who sawed logs for nineteen cents apiece and +earned seven dollars a day. Copple said three minutes was good time to +saw a four-foot log in two pieces. So much for physical condition! As +for firewood, for which our crosscut saw was intended, pitch pine and +yellow pine and spruce were all odorous and inflammable woods, but they +did not make good firewood. Dead aspen was good; dead oak the best. It +burned to red hot coals with little smoke. As for camp-fires, any kind +of dry wood pleased, smoke or no smoke. In fact I loved the smell and +color of wood-smoke, in spite of the fact that it made my eyes smart. + +By October first, which was the opening day of the hunting season, I had +labored at various exercises until I felt fit to pack a rifle through +the woods. R.C. and I went out alone on foot. Not by any means was the +day auspicious. The sun tried to show through a steely haze, making only +a pale shift of sunshine. And the air was rather chilly. Enthusiasm, +however, knew no deterrents. We walked a mile down Beaver Dam Canyon, +then climbed the western slope. As long as the sun shone I knew the +country fairly well, or rather my direction. We slipped along through +the silent woods, satisfied with everything. Presently the sun broke +through the clouds, and shone fitfully, making intervals of shadow, and +others of golden-green verdure. + +Along an edge of one of the grassy parks we came across fresh deer +tracks. Several deer had run out of the woods just ahead of us, +evidently having winded us. One track was that of a big buck. We trailed +these tracks across the park, then made a detour in hopes of heading the +deer off, but failed. A huge, dark cloud scudded out of the west and let +down a shower of fine rain. We kept dry under a spreading spruce. The +forest then was gloomy and cool with only a faint moan of wind and +pattering of raindrops to break the silence. The cloud passed by, the +sun shone again, the forest glittered in its dress of diamonds. There +had been but little frost, so that aspen and maple thickets had not yet +taken on their cloth of gold and blaze of red. Most of the leaves were +still on the trees, making these thickets impossible to see into. We +hunted along the edges of these, and across the wide, open ridge from +canyon to canyon, and saw nothing but old tracks. Black and white clouds +rolled up and brought a squall. We took to another spruce tent for +shelter. After this squall the sky became obscured by a field of gray +cloud through which the sun shone dimly. This matter worried me. I was +aware of my direction then, but if I lost the sun I would soon be in +difficulties. + +Gradually we worked back along the ridge toward camp, and headed several +ravines that ran and widened down into the big canyon. All at once R.C. +held up a warning finger. "Listen!" With abatement of breath I listened, +but heard nothing except the mournful sough of the pines. "Thought I +heard a whistle," he said. We went on, all eyes and ears. + +R.C. and I flattered ourselves that together we made rather a good +hunting team. We were fairly well versed in woodcraft and could slip +along stealthily. I possessed an Indian sense of direction that had +never yet failed me. To be sure we had much to learn about deer +stalking. But I had never hunted with any man whose ears were as quick +as R.C.'s. A naturally keen hearing, and many years of still hunting, +accounted for this faculty. As for myself, the one gift of which I was +especially proud was my eyesight. Almost invariably I could see game in +the woods before any one who was with me. This had applied to all my +guides except Indians. And I believed that five summers on the Pacific, +searching the wide expanse of ocean for swordfish fins, had made my eyes +all the keener for the woods. R.C. and I played at a game in which he +tried to hear the movement of some forest denizen before I saw it. This +fun for us dated back to boyhood days. + +Suddenly R.C. stopped short, with his head turning to one side, and his +body stiffening. "I heard that whistle again," he said. We stood +perfectly motionless for a long moment. Then from far off in the forest +I heard a high, clear, melodious, bugling note. How thrilling, how +lonely a sound! + +"It's a bull-elk," I replied. Then we sat down upon a log and listened. +R.C. had heard that whistle in Colorado, but had not recognized it. Just +as the mournful howl of a wolf is the wildest, most haunting sound of +the wilderness, so is the bugle of the elk the noblest, most melodious +and thrilling. With tingling nerves and strained ears we listened. We +heard elk bugling in different directions, hard to locate. One bull +appeared to be low down, another high up, another working away. R.C. and +I decided to stalk them. The law prohibited the killing of elk, but that +was no reason why we might not trail them, and have the sport of seeing +them in their native haunts. So we stole softly through the woods, +halting now and then to listen, pleased to note that every whistle we +heard appeared to be closer. + +At last, apparently only a deep thicketed ravine separated us from the +ridge upon which the elk were bugling. Here our stalk began to become +really exciting. We did not make any noise threading that wet thicket, +and we ascended the opposite slope very cautiously. What little wind +there was blew from the elk toward us, so they could not scent us. Once +up on the edge of the ridge we halted to listen. After a long time we +heard a far-away bugle, then another at least half a mile distant. Had +we miscalculated? R.C. was for working down the ridge and I was for +waiting there a few moments. So we sat down again. The forest was almost +silent now. Somewhere a squirrel was barking. The sun peeped out of the +pale clouds, lighted the glades, rimmed the pines in brightness. I +opened my lips to speak to R.C. when I was rendered mute by a piercing +whistle, high-pitched and sweet and melodiously prolonged. It made my +ears tingle and my blood dance. "Right close," whispered R.C. "Come on." +We began to steal through the forest, keeping behind trees and thickets, +peeping out, and making no more sound than shadows. The ground was damp, +facilitating our noiseless stalk. In this way we became separated by +about thirty steps, but we walked on and halted in unison. Passing +through a thicket of little pines we came into an open forest full of +glades. Keenly I peered everywhere, as I slipped from tree to tree. +Finally we stooped along for a space, and then, at a bugle blast so +close that it made me jump, I began to crawl. My objective point was a +fallen pine the trunk of which appeared high enough to conceal me. R.C. +kept working a little farther to the right. Once he beckoned me, but I +kept on. Still I saw him drop down to crawl. Our stalk was getting +toward its climax. My state was one of quivering intensity of thrill, of +excitement, of pleasure. Reaching my log I peeped over it. I saw a +cow-elk and a yearling calf trotting across a glade about a hundred +yards distant. Wanting R.C. to see them I looked his way, and pointed. +But he was pointing also and vehemently beckoning for me to join him. I +ran on all fours over to where he knelt. He whispered pantingly: +"Grandest sight--ever saw!" I peeped out. + +In a glade not seventy-five yards away stood a magnificent bull elk, +looking back over his shoulder. His tawny hind-quarters, then his dark +brown, almost black shaggy shoulders and head, then his enormous spread +of antlers, like the top of a dead cedar--these in turn fascinated my +gaze. How graceful, stately, lordly! + +R.C. stepped out from behind the pine in full view. I crawled out, took +a kneeling position, and drew a bead on the elk. I had the fun of +imagining I could have hit him anywhere. I did not really want to kill +him, yet what was the meaning of the sharp, hot gush of my blood, the +fiery thrill along my nerves, the feeling of unsatisfied wildness? The +bull eyed us for a second, then laid his forest of antlers back over his +shoulders, and with singularly swift, level stride, sped like a tawny +flash into the green forest. + +R.C. and I began to chatter like boys, and to walk toward the glade, +without any particular object in mind, when my roving eye caught sight +of a moving brown and checkered patch low down on the ground, vanishing +behind a thicket. I called R.C. and ran. I got to where I could see +beyond the thicket. An immense flock of turkeys! I yelled. As I tried to +get a bead on a running turkey R.C. joined me. "Chase 'em!" he yelled. +So we dashed through the forest with the turkeys running ahead of us. +Never did they come out clear in the open. I halted to shoot, but just +as I was about to press the trigger, my moving target vanished. This +happened again. No use to shoot at random! I had a third fleeting +chance, but absolutely could not grasp it. Then the big flock of turkeys +eluded us in an impenetrable, brushy ravine. + +"By George!" exclaimed R.C. "Can you beat that? They run like streaks. I +couldn't aim. These wild turkeys are great." + +I echoed his sentiments. We prowled around for an hour trying to locate +this flock again, but all in vain. "Well," said R.C. finally, as he +wiped his perspiring face, "it's good to see some game anyhow.... Where +are we?" + +It developed that our whereabouts was a mystery to me. The sun had +become completely obliterated, a fine rain was falling, the forest had +grown wet and dismal. We had gotten turned around. The matter did not +look serious, however, until we had wandered around for another hour +without finding anything familiar. Then we realized we were lost. This +sort of experience had happened to R.C. and me often; nevertheless we +did not relish it, especially the first day out. As usual on such +occasions R.C. argued with me about direction, and then left the +responsibility with me. I found an open spot, somewhat sheltered on one +side from the misty rain, and there I stationed myself to study trees +and sky and clouds for some clue to help me decide what was north or +west. After a while I had the good fortune to see a momentary +brightening through the clouds. I located the sun, and was pleased to +discover that the instinct of direction I had been subtly prompted to +take, would have helped me as much as the sun. + +We faced east and walked fast, and I took note of trees ahead so that +we should not get off a straight line. At last we came to a deep canyon. +In the gray misty rain I could not be sure I recognized it. "Well, +R.C.," I said, "this may be our canyon, and it may not. But to make sure +we'll follow it up to the rim. Then we can locate camp." R.C. replied +with weary disdain. "All right, my redskin brother, lead me to camp. As +Loren says, I'm starved to death." Loren is my three-year-old boy, who +bids fair to be like his brother Romer. He has an enormous appetite and +before meal times he complains bitterly: "I'm starv-ved to death!" How +strange to remember him while I was lost in the forest! + +When we had descended into the canyon rain was falling more heavily. We +were in for it. But I determined we would not be kept out all night. So +I struck forward with long stride. + +In half an hour we came to where the canyon forked. I deliberated a +moment. Not one familiar landmark could I descry, from which fact I +decided we had better take to the left-hand fork. Grass and leaves +appeared almost as wet as running water. Soon we were soaked to the +skin. After two miles the canyon narrowed and thickened, so that +traveling grew more and more laborsome. It must have been four miles +from its mouth to where it headed up near the rim. Once out of it we +found ourselves on familiar ground, about five miles from camp. +Exhausted and wet and nearly frozen we reached camp just before dark. If +I had taken the right-hand fork of the canyon, which was really Beaver +Dam Canyon, we would have gotten back to camp in short order. R.C. said +to the boys: "Well, Doc dragged me nine miles out of our way." Everybody +but the Jap enjoyed my discomfiture. Takahashi said in his imperfect +English: "Go get on more better dry clothes. Soon hot supper. Maybe good +yes!" + + +V + +It rained the following day, making a good excuse to stay in camp and +rest beside the little tent-stove. And the next morning I started out on +foot with Copple. We went down Beaver Dam Canyon intending to go up on +the ridge where R.C. and I had seen the flock of turkeys. + +I considered Copple an addition to my long list of outdoor acquaintances +in the west, and believed him a worthy partner for Nielsen. Copple was +born near Oak Creek, some twenty miles south of Flagstaff, and was +one-fourth Indian. He had a good education. His whole life had been in +the open, which fact I did not need to be told. A cowboy when only a boy +he had also been sheepherder, miner, freighter, and everything +Arizonian. Eighteen years he had hunted game and prospected for gold in +Mexico. He had been a sailor and fireman on the Pacific, he had served +in the army in the Philippines. Altogether his had been an adventurous +life; and as Doyle had been a mine of memories for me so would Copple be +a mine of information. Such men have taught me the wonder, the violence, +the truth of the west. + +Copple was inclined to be loquacious--a trait that ordinarily was rather +distasteful to me, but in his case would be an advantage. On our way +down the canyon not only did he give me an outline of the history of his +life, but he talked about how he had foretold the storm just ended. The +fresh diggings of gophers--little mounds of dirt thrown up--had +indicated the approach of the storm; so had the hooting of owls; +likewise the twittering of snowbirds at that season; also the feeding of +blackbirds near horses. Particularly a wind from the south meant storm. +From that he passed to a discussion of deer. During the light of the +moon deer feed at night; and in the day time they will lie in a thicket. +If a hunter came near the deer would lower their horns flat and remain +motionless, unless almost ridden over. In the dark of the moon deer feed +at early morning, lie down during the day, and feed again toward sunset, +always alert, trusting to nose more than eyes and ears. + +Copple was so interesting that I must have passed the place where R.C. +and I had come down into the canyon; at any rate I missed it, and we +went on farther. Copple showed me old bear sign, an old wolf track, and +then fresh turkey tracks. The latter reminded me that we were out +hunting. I could carry a deadly rifle in my hands, yet dream dreams of +flower-decked Elysian fields. We climbed a wooded bench or low step of +the canyon slope, and though Copple and I were side by side I saw two +turkeys before he did. They were running swiftly up hill. I took a snap +shot at the lower one, but missed. My bullet struck low, upsetting him. +Both of them disappeared. + +Then we climbed to the top of the ridge, and in scouting around along +the heavily timbered edges we came to a ravine deep enough to be classed +as a canyon. Here the forest was dark and still, with sunlight showing +down in rays and gleams. While hunting I always liked to sit down here +and there to listen and watch. Copple liked this too. So we sat down. +Opposite us the rocky edge of the other slope was about two hundred +yards. We listened to jays and squirrels. I made note of the significant +fact that as soon as we began to hunt Copple became silent. + +Presently my roving eye caught sight of a moving object. It is movement +that always attracts my eye in the woods. I saw a plump, woolly beast +walk out upon the edge of the opposite slope and stand in the shade. + +"Copple, is that a sheep?" I whispered, pointing. "Lion--no, big lynx," +he replied. I aimed and shot just a little too swiftly. Judging by the +puff of dust my bullet barely missed the big cat. He leaped fully +fifteen feet. Copple fired, hitting right under his nose as he alighted. +That whirled him back. He bounced like a rubber ball. My second shot +went over him, and Copple's hit between his legs. Then with another +prodigious bound he disappeared in a thicket. "By golly! we missed him," +declared Copple. "But you must have shaved him that first time. Biggest +lynx I ever saw." + +We crossed the canyon and hunted for him, but without success. Then we +climbed an open grassy forest slope, up to a level ridge, and crossed +that to see down into a beautiful valley, with stately isolated pines, +and patches of aspens, and floor of luxuriant grass. A ravine led down +into this long park and the mouth of it held a thicket of small pines. +Just as we got half way out I saw bobbing black objects above the high +grass. I peered sharply. These objects were turkey heads. I got a shot +before Copple saw them. There was a bouncing, a whirring, a +thumping--and then turkeys appeared to be running every way. + +Copple fired. "Turkey number one!" he called out. I missed a big gobbler +on the run. Copple shot again. "Turkey number two!" he called out. I +could not see what he had done, but of course I knew he had done +execution. It roused my ire as well as a desperate ambition. Turkeys +were running up hill everywhere. I aimed at this one, then at that. +Again I fired. Another miss! How that gobbler ran! He might just as well +have flown. Every turkey contrived to get a tree or bush between him and +me, just at the critical instant. In despair I tried to hold on the last +one, got a bead on it through my peep sight, moved it with him as we +moved, and holding tight, I fired. With a great flop and scattering of +bronze feathers he went down. I ran up the slope and secured him, a +fine gobbler of about fifteen pounds weight. + +Upon my return to Copple I found he had collected his two turkeys, both +shot in the neck in the same place. He said: "If you hit them in the +body you spoil them for cooking. I used to hit all mine in the head. Let +me give you a hunch. Always pick out a turkey running straight away from +you or straight toward you. Never crossways. You can't hit them running +to the side." + +Then he bluntly complimented me upon my eyesight. That at least was +consolation for my poor shooting. We rested there, and after a while +heard a turkey cluck. Copple had no turkey-caller, but he clucked +anyhow. We heard answers. The flock evidently was trying to get together +again, and some of them were approaching us. Copple continued to call. +Then I appreciated how fascinating R.C. had found this calling game. +Copple got answers from all around, growing closer. But presently the +answers ceased. "They're on to me," he whispered and did not call again. +At that moment a young gobbler ran swiftly down the slope and stopped to +peer around, his long neck stretching. It was not a very long shot, and +I, scorning to do less than Copple, tried to emulate him, and aimed at +the neck of the gobbler. All I got, however, was a few feathers. Like a +grouse he flew across the opening and was gone. We lingered there a +while, hoping to see or hear more of the flock, but did neither. Copple +tried to teach me how to tell the age of turkeys from their feet, a +lesson I did not think I would assimilate in one hunting season. He tied +their legs together and hung them over his shoulder, a net weight of +about fifty pounds. + +All the way up that valley we saw elk tracks, and once from over the +ridge I heard a bugle. On our return toward camp we followed a rather +meandering course, over ridge and down dale, and through grassy parks +and stately forests, and along the slowly coloring maple-aspen thickets. +Copple claimed to hear deer running, but I did not. Many tired footsteps +I dragged along before we finally reached Beaver Dam Canyon. How welcome +the sight of camp! R.C. had ridden miles with Edd, and had seen one deer +that they said was still enjoying his freedom in the woods. Takahashi +hailed sight of the turkeys with: "That fine! That fine! Nice fat ones!" + +But tired as I was that night I still had enthusiasm enough to visit +Haught's camp, and renew acquaintance with the hounds. Haught had not +been able to secure more than two new hounds, and these named Rock and +Buck were still unknown quantities. + +Old Dan remembered me, and my heart warmed to the old gladiator. He was +a very big, large-boned hound, gray with age and wrinkled and lame, and +bleary-eyed. Dan was too old to be put on trails, or at least to be made +chase bear. He loved a camp-fire, and would almost sit in the flames. +This fact, and the way he would beg for a morsel to eat, had endeared +him to me. + +Old Tom was somewhat smaller and leaner than Dan, yet resembled him +enough to deceive us at times. Tom was gray, too, and had crinkly ears, +and many other honorable battle-scars. Tom was not quite so friendly as +Dan; in fact he had more dignity. Still neither hound was ever +demonstrative except upon sight of his master. Haught told me that if +Dan and Tom saw him shoot at a deer they would chase it till they +dropped; accordingly he never shot at anything except bear and lion when +he had these hounds with him. + +Sue was the best hound in the pack, as she still had, in spite of years +of service, a good deal of speed and fight left in her. She was a slim, +dark brown hound with fine and very long ears. Rock, one of the new +hounds from Kentucky, was white and black, and had remarkably large, +clear and beautiful eyes, almost human in expression. I could not +account for the fact that I suspected Rock was a deer chaser. Buck, the +other hound from Kentucky, was no longer young; he had a stump tail; his +color was a little yellow with dark spots, and he had a hang-dog head +and distrustful eye. I made certain that Buck had never had any friends, +for he did not understand kindness. Nor had he ever had enough to eat. +He stayed away from the rest of the pack and growled fiercely when a pup +came near him. I tried to make friends with him, but found that I would +not have an easy task. + +Kaiser Bill was one of the pups, black in color, a long, lean, +hungry-looking dog, and crazy. He had not grown any in a year, either in +body or intelligence. I remembered how he would yelp just to hear +himself and run any kind of a trail--how he would be the first to quit +and come back. And if any one fired a gun near him he would run like a +scared deer. + +To be fair to Kaiser Bill the other pups were not much better. Trailer +and Big Foot were young still, and about all they could do was to run +and howl. + +If, however, they got off right on a bear trail, and no other trail +crossed it they would stick, and in fact lead the pack till' the bear +got away. Once Big Foot came whimpering into camp with porcupine quills +in his nose. Of all the whipped and funny pups! + +Bobby was the dog I liked best. He was a curly black half-shepherd, +small in size; and he had a sharp, intelligent face, with the brightest +hazel eyes. His manner of wagging his tail seemed most comical yet +convincing. Bobby wagged only the nether end and that most emphatically. +He would stand up to me, holding out his forepaws, and beg. What an +appealing beggar he was! Bobby's value to Haught was not +inconsiderable. He was the only dog Haught ever had that would herd the +pigs. On a bear hunt Bobby lost his shepherd ways and his kindly +disposition, and yelped fiercely, and hung on a trail as long as any of +the pack. He had no fear of a bear, for which reason Haught did not like +to run him. + +All told then we had a rather nondescript and poor pack of hounds; and +the fact discouraged me. I wanted to hunt the bad cinnamons and the +grizzly sheep-killers, with which this rim-rock country was infested. I +had nothing against the acorn-eating brown or black bears. And with this +pack of hounds I doubted that we could hold one of the vicious fighting +species. But there was now nothing to do but try. No one could tell. We +might kill a big grizzly. And the fact that the chances were against us +perhaps made for more determined effort. I regretted, however, that I +had not secured a pack of trained hounds somewhere. + +Frost was late this fall. The acorns had hardly ripened, the leaves had +scarcely colored; and really good bear hunting seemed weeks off. A storm +and then a cold snap would help matters wonderfully, and for these we +hoped. Indeed the weather had not settled; hardly a day had been free of +clouds. But despite conditions we decided to start in bear hunting every +other day, feeling that at least we could train the pack, and get them +and ourselves in better shape for a favorable time when it arrived. + +Accordingly next day we sallied forth for Horton Thicket, and I went +down with Edd and George. It was a fine day, sunny and windy at +intervals. The new trail the boys had made was boggy. From above Horton +Thicket looked dark, green, verdant, with scarcely any touch of autumn +colors; from below, once in it, all seemed a darker green, cool and +damp. Water lay in all low places. The creek roared bankfull of clear +water. + +The new trail led up and down over dark red rich earth, through +thickets of jack-pine and maple, and then across long slopes of +manzanita and juniper, mescal and oak. Junipers were not fruitful this +year as they were last, only a few having clusters of lavender-colored +berries. The manzanita brush appeared exceptionally beautiful with its +vivid contrasts of crimson and green leaves, orange-colored berries, and +smooth, shiny bark of a chocolate red. The mescal consisted of round +patches of cactus with spear-shaped leaves, low on the ground, with a +long dead stalk standing or broken down. This stalk grows fresh every +spring, when it is laden with beautiful yellow blossoms. The honey from +the flowers of mescal and mesquite is the best to be obtained in this +country of innumerable bees. + +Presently the hounds opened up on some kind of a trail and they worked +on it around under the ledges toward the next canyon, called See Canyon. +After a while the country grew so rough that fast riding was impossible; +the thickets tore and clutched at us until they finally stopped the +horses. We got off. Edd climbed to a ridge-top. "Pack gone way round," +he called. "I'll walk. Take my horse back." I decided to let George take +my horse also, and I hurried to catch up with Edd. + +Following that long-legged Arizonian on foot was almost as strenuous as +keeping him in sight on horseback. I managed it. We climbed steep slopes +and the farther we climbed the thicker grew the brush. Often we would +halt to listen for hounds, at which welcome intervals I endeavored to +catch my breath. We kept the hounds in hearing, which fact incited us to +renewed endeavors. At length we got into a belt of live-oak and +scrub-pine brush, almost as difficult to penetrate as manzanita, and +here we had to bend and crawl. Bear and deer tracks led everywhere. +Small stones and large stones had been lifted and displaced by bears +searching for grubs. These slopes were dry; we found no water at the +heads of ravines, yet the red earth was rich in bearded, tufted grass, +yellow daisies and purple asters, and a wan blue flower. We climbed and +climbed, until my back began to give me trouble. "Reckon we--bit off--a +big hunk," remarked Edd once, and I thought he referred to the endless +steep and brushy slopes. By and bye the hounds came back to us one by +one, all footsore and weary. Manifestly the bear had outrun them. Our +best prospect then was to climb on to the rim and strike across the +forest to camp. + +I noticed that tired as I was I had less trouble to keep up with Edd. +His boots wore very slippery on grass and pine-needles, so that he might +have been trying to climb on ice. I had nails in my boots and they +caught hold. Hotter and wetter I grew until I had a burning sensation +all over. My legs and arms ached; the rifle weighed a ton; my feet +seemed to take hold of the ground and stick. We could not go straight up +owing to the nature of that jumble of broken cliffs and matted scrub +forests. For hours we toiled onward, upward, downward, and then upward. +Only through such experience could I have gained an adequate knowledge +of the roughness and vastness of this rim-rock country. + +At last we arrived at the base of the gray leaning crags, and there, on +a long slide of weathered rock the hounds jumped a bear. I saw the dust +he raised, as he piled into the thicket below the slide. What a wild +clamor from the hounds! We got out on the rocky slope where we could see +and kept sharp eyes roving, but the bear went straight down hill. +Amazing indeed was it the way the hounds drew away from us. In a few +moments they were at the foot of the slopes, tearing back over the +course we had been so many hours in coming. Then we set out to get on +the rim, so as to follow along it, and keep track of the chase. Edd +distanced me on the rocks. I had to stop often. My breast labored and I +could scarcely breathe. I sweat so freely that my rifle stock was wet. +My hardest battle was in fighting a tendency to utter weariness and +disgust. My old poignant feelings about my physical condition returned +to vex me. As a matter of fact I had already that very day accomplished +a climb not at all easy for the Arizonian, and I should have been happy. +But I had not been used to a lame back. When I reached the rim I fell +there, and lay there a few moments, until I could get up. Then I +followed along after Edd whose yells to the hounds I heard, and overtook +him upon the point of a promontory. Far below the hounds were baying. +"They're chasin' him all right," declared Edd, grimly. "He's headin' for +low country. I think Sue stopped him once. But the rest of the pack are +behind." + +I had never been on the point of this promontory. Grand indeed was the +panorama. Under me yawned a dark-green, smoky-canyoned, rippling basin +of timber and red rocks leading away to the mountain ranges of the Four +Peaks and Mazatzals. Westward, toward the yellowing sunset stood out +long escarpments for miles, and long sloping lines of black ridges, +leading down to the basin where there seemed to be a ripple of the +earth, a vast upset region of canyon and ridge, wild and lonely and +dark. + +I did not get to see the sunset from that wonderful point, a matter I +regretted. We were far from camp, and Edd was not sure of a bee-line +during daylight, let alone after dark. Deep in the forest the sunset +gold and red burned on grass and leaf. The aspens took most of the +color. Swift-flying wisps of cloud turned pink, and low along the +western horizon of the forest the light seemed golden and blue. + +I was almost exhausted, and by the time we reached camp, just at dark, I +was wholly exhausted. My voice had sunk to a whisper, a fact that +occasioned R.C. some concern until I could explain. Undoubtedly this was +the hardest day's work I had done since my lion hunting with Buffalo +Jones. It did not surprise me that next day I had to forget my crosscut +saw exercise. + +Late that afternoon the hounds came straggling into camp, lame and +starved. Sue was the last one in, arriving at supper-time. + +Another day found me still sore, but able to ride, and R.C. and I went +off into the woods in search of any kind of adventure. This day was +cloudy and threatening, with spells of sunshine. We saw two bull elk, a +cow and a calf. The bulls appeared remarkably agile for so heavy an +animal. Neither of these, however, were of such magnificent proportions +as the one R.C. and I had stalked the first day out. A few minutes later +we scared out three more cows and three yearlings. I dismounted just for +fun, and sighted my rifle at four of them. Next we came to a canyon +where beaver had cut aspen trees. These animals must have chisel-like +teeth. They left chippings somewhat similar to those cut by an axe. +Aspen bark was their winter food. In this particular spot we could not +find a dam or slide. When we rode down into Turkey Canyon, however, we +found a place where beavers had dammed the brook. Many aspens were fresh +cut, one at least two feet thick, and all the small branches had been +cut off and dragged to the water, where I could find no further trace of +them. The grass was matted down, and on the bare bits of ground showed +beaver tracks. + +[Illustration: WHERE BEAR CROSS THE RIDGE FROM ONE CANYON TO ANOTHER] + +[Illustration: CLIMBING OVER THE TOUGH MANZANITA] + +Game appeared to be scarce. Haught had told us that deer, turkey and +bear had all gone to feed on the mast (fallen acorns); and if we could +locate the mast we would find the game. He said he had once seen a herd +of several hundred deer migrating from one section of country to +another. Apparently this was to find new feeding grounds. + +[Illustration: BEAR IN SIGHT ACROSS CANYON] + +While we were resting under a spruce I espied a white-breasted, +blue-headed, gray-backed little bird at work on a pine tree. He walked +head first down the bark, pecking here and there. I saw a moth or a +winged insect fly off the tree, and then another. Then I saw several +more fly away. The bird was feeding on winged insects that lived in the +bark. Some of them saw or heard him coming and escaped, but many of them +he caught. He went about this death-dealing business with a brisk and +cheerful manner. No doubt nature had developed him to help protect the +trees from bugs and worms and beetles. + +Later that day, in an open grassy canyon, we came upon quite a large +bird, near the size of a pigeon, which I thought appeared to be a +species of jay or magpie. This bird had gray and black colors, a round +head, and a stout bill. At first I thought it was crippled, as it hopped +and fluttered about in the grass. I got down to catch it. Then I +discovered it was only tame. I could approach to within a foot of +reaching it. Once it perched upon a low snag, and peeped at me with +little bright dark eyes, very friendly, as if he liked my company. I sat +there within a few feet of him for quite a while. We resumed our ride. +Crossing a fresh buck track caused us to dismount, and tie our horses. +But that buck was too wary for us. We returned to camp as usual, empty +handed as far as game was concerned. + +I forgot to say anything to Haught or Doyle about the black and gray +bird that had so interested me. Quite a coincidence was it then to see +another such bird and that one right in camp. He appeared to be as tame +as the other. He flew and hopped around camp in such a friendly manner +that I placed a piece of meat in a conspicuous place for him. Not long +was he in finding it. He alighted on it, and pecked and pulled at a +great rate. Doyle claimed it was a Clark crow, named after one of the +Lewis and Clark expedition. "It's a rare bird," said Doyle. "First one +I've seen in thirty years." As Doyle spent most of his time in the open +this statement seemed rather remarkable. + +We had frost on two mornings, temperature as low as twenty-six degrees, +and then another change indicative of unsettled weather. It rained, and +sleeted, and then snowed, but the ground was too wet to hold the snow. + +The wilderness began all at once, as if by magic, to take on autumn +colors. Then the forest became an enchanted region of white aspens, +golden-green aspens, purple spruces, dark green pines, maples a blaze of +vermilion, cerise, scarlet, magenta, rose--and slopes of dull red sumac. +These were the beginning of Indian summer days, the melancholy days, +with their color and silence and beauty and fragrance and mystery. + +Hunting then became quite a dream for me, as if it called back to me dim +mystic days in the woods of some past weird world. One afternoon Copple, +R.C., and I went as far as the east side of Gentry Canyon and worked +down. Copple found fresh deer and turkey sign. We tied our horses, and +slipped back against the wind. R.C. took one side of a ridge, with +Copple and me on the other, and we worked down toward where we had seen +the sign. After half an hour of slow, stealthy glide through the forest +we sat down at the edge of a park, expecting R.C. to come along soon. +The white aspens were all bare, and oak leaves were rustling down. The +wind lulled a while, then softly roared in the pines. All at once both +of us heard a stick crack, and light steps of a walking deer on leaves. +Copple whispered: "Get ready to shoot." We waited, keen and tight, +expecting to see a deer walk out into the open. But none came. Leaving +our stand we slipped into the woods, careful not to make the slightest +sound. Such careful, slow steps were certainly not accountable for the +rapid beat of my heart. Something gray moved among the green and yellow +leaves. I halted, and held Copple back. Then not twenty paces away I +descried what I thought was a fawn. It glided toward us without the +slightest sound. Suddenly, half emerging from some maple saplings, it +saw us and seemed stricken to stone. Not ten steps from me! Soft gray +hue, slender graceful neck and body, sleek small head with long ears, +and great dark distended eyes, wilder than any wild eyes I had ever +beheld. I saw it quiver all over. I was quivering too, but with emotion. +Copple whispered: "Yearlin' buck. Shoot!" + +His whisper, low as it was, made the deer leap like a gray flash. Also +it broke the spell for me. "Year old buck!" I exclaimed, quite loud. +"Thought he was a fawn. But I couldn't have shot----" + +A crash of brush interrupted me. Thump of hoofs, crack of branches--then +a big buck deer bounded onward into the thicket. I got one snap shot at +his fleeting blurred image and missed him. We ran ahead, but to no +avail. + +"Four-point buck," said Copple. "He must have been standin' behind that +brush." + +"Did you see his horns?" I gasped, incredulously. + +"Sure. But he was runnin' some. Let's go down this slope where he +jumped.... Now will you look at that! Here's where he started after you +shot." + +A gentle slope, rather open, led down to the thicket where the buck had +vanished. We measured the first of his downhill jumps, and it amounted +to eighteen of my rather short steps. What a magnificent leap! It +reminded me of the story of Hart-leap Well. + +As we retraced our steps R.C. met us, reporting that he had heard the +buck running, but could not see him. We scouted around together for an +hour, then R.C. and Copple started off on a wide detour, leaving me at a +stand in the hope they might drive some turkeys my way. I sat on a log +until almost sunset. All the pine tips turned gold and patches of gold +brightened the ground. Jays were squalling, gray squirrels were barking, +red squirrels were chattering, snowbirds were twittering, pine cones +were dropping, leaves were rustling. But there were no turkeys, and I +did not miss them. R.C. and Copple returned to tell me there were signs +of turkeys and deer all over the ridge. "We'll ride over here early +to-morrow," said Copple, "an' I'll bet my gun we pack some meat to +camp." + +But the unsettled weather claimed the next day and the next, giving us +spells of rain and sleet, and periods of sunshine deceptive in their +promise. Camp, however, with our big camp-fire, and little tent-stoves, +and Takahashi, would have been delightful in almost any weather. +Takahashi was insulted, the boys told me, because I said he was born to +be a cook. It seemed the Jap looked down upon this culinary job. +"Cook--that woman joob!" he said, contemptuously. + +As I became better acquainted with Takahashi I learned to think more of +the Japanese. I studied Takahashi very earnestly and I grew to like him. +The Orientals are mystics and hard to understand. But any one could see +that here was a Japanese who was a real man. I never saw him idle. He +resented being told what to do, and after my first offense in this +regard I never gave him another order. He was a wonderful cook. It +pleased his vanity to see how good an appetite I always had. When I +would hail him: "George, what you got to eat?" he would grin and reply: +"Aw, turkee!" Then I would let out a yell, for I never in my life tasted +anything so good as the roast wild turkey Takahashi served us. Or he +would say: "Pan-cakes--apple dumplings--rice puddings." No one but the +Japs know how to cook rice. I asked him how he cooked rice over an open +fire and he said: "I know how hot--when done." Takahashi must have +possessed an uncanny knowledge of the effects of heat. How swift, clean, +efficient and saving he was! He never wasted anything. In these days of +American prodigality a frugal cook like Takahashi was a revelation. +Seldom are the real producers of food ever wasters. Takahashi's ambition +was to be a rancher in California. I learned many things about him. In +summer he went to the Imperial Valley where he picked and packed +cantaloupes. He could stand the intense heat. He was an expert. He +commanded the highest wage. Then he was a raisin-picker, which for him +was another art. He had accumulated a little fortune and knew how to +save his money. He would have been a millionaire in Japan, but he +intended to live in the United States. + +Takahashi had that best of traits--generosity. Whenever he made pie or +cake or doughnuts he always saved his share for me to have for my lunch +next day. No use to try to break him of this kindly habit! He was keen +too, and held in particular disfavor any one who picked out the best +portions of turkey or meat. "No like that," he would say; and I heartily +agreed with him. Life in the open brought out the little miserable +traits of human nature, of which no one was absolutely free. + +I admired Takahashi's cooking, I admired the enormous pile of firewood +he always had chopped, I admired his generosity; but most of all I liked +his cheerfulness and good humor. He grew to be a joy to me. We had some +pop corn which we sometimes popped over the camp-fire. He was fond of it +and he said: "You eat all time--much pop corn--just so long you keep +mouth going all same like horse--you happy." We were troubled a good +deal by skunks. Now some skunks were not bad neighbors, but others were +disgusting and dangerous. The hog-nosed skunk, according to westerners, +very often had hydrophobia and would bite a sleeper. I knew of several +men dying of rabies from this bite. Copple said he had been awakened +twice at night by skunks biting the noses of his companions in camp. +Copple had to choke the skunks off. One of these men died. We were +really afraid of them. Doyle said one had visited him in his tent and he +had been forced to cover his head until he nearly smothered. Now +Takahashi slept in the tent with the store of supplies. One night a +skunk awakened him. In reporting this to me the Jap said: "See skunk all +black and white at tent door. I flash light. Skunk no 'fraid. He no run. +He act funny--then just walk off." + +After that experience Takahashi set a box-trap for skunks. One morning +he said with a huge grin: "I catch skunk. Want you take picture for me +send my wife Sadayo." + +So I got my camera, and being careful to take a safe position, as did +all the boys, I told Takahashi I was ready to photograph him and his +skunk. He got a pole that was too short to suit me, and he lifted up the +box-trap. A furry white and black cat appeared, with remarkably bushy +tail. What a beautiful little animal to bear such opprobrium! "All same +like cat," said Takahashi. "Kittee--kittee." It appeared that kitty was +not in the least afraid. On the contrary she surveyed the formidable Jap +with his pole, and her other enemies in a calm, dignified manner. Then +she turned away. Here I tried to photograph her and Takahashi together. +When she started off the Jap followed and poked her with the pole. "Take +'nother picture." But kitty suddenly whirled, with fur and tail erect, a +most surprising and brave and assured front, then ran at Takahashi. I +yelled: "Run George!" Pell-mell everybody fled from that beautiful +little beast. We were arrant cowards. But Takahashi grasped up another +and longer pole, and charged back at kitty. This time he chased her out +of camp. When he returned his face was a study: "Nashty thing! She make +awful stink! She no 'fraid a tall. Next time I kill her sure!" + +The head of Gentry Canyon was about five miles from camp, and we reached +it the following morning while the frost was still white and sparkling. +We tied our horses. Copple said: "This is a deer day. I'll show you a +buck sure. Let's stick together an' walk easy." + +So we made sure to work against the wind, which, however, was so light +as almost to be imperceptible, and stole along the dark ravine, taking +half a dozen steps or so at a time. How still the forest! When it was +like this I always felt as if I had discovered something new. The big +trees loomed stately and calm, stretching a rugged network of branches +over us. Fortunately no saucy squirrels or squalling jays appeared to be +abroad to warn game of our approach. Not only a tang, but a thrill, +seemed to come pervasively on the cool air. All the colors of autumn +were at their height, and gorgeous plots of maple thicket and sumac +burned against the brown and green. We slipped along, each of us strung +to be the first to hear or see some living creature of the wild. R.C., +as might have been expected, halted us with a softly whispered: +"Listen." But neither Copple nor I heard what R.C. heard, and presently +we moved on as before. Presently again R.C. made us pause, with a like +result. Somehow the forest seemed unusually wild. It provoked a +tingling expectation. The pine-covered slope ahead of us, the thicketed +ridge to our left, the dark, widening ravine to our right, all seemed to +harbor listening, watching, soft-footed denizens of the wild. At length +we reached a level bench, beautifully forested, where the ridge ran down +in points to where the junction of several ravines formed the head of +Gentry Canyon. + +How stealthily we stole on! Here Copple said was a place for deer to +graze. But the grass plots, golden with sunlight and white with frost +and black-barred by shadows of pines, showed no game. + +Copple sat down on a log, and I took a seat beside him to the left. R.C. +stood just to my left. As I laid my rifle over my knees and opened my +lips to whisper I was suddenly struck mute. I saw R.C. stiffen, then +crouch a little. He leaned forward--his eyes had the look of a falcon. +Then I distinctly heard the soft crack of hoofs on stone and breaking of +tiny twigs. Quick as I whirled my head I still caught out of the tail of +my eye the jerk of R.C. as he threw up his rifle. I looked--I strained +my eyes--I flashed them along the rim of the ravine where R.C. had been +gazing. A gray form seemed to move into the field of my vision. That +instant it leaped, and R.C.'s rifle shocked me with its bursting crack. +I seemed stunned, so near was the report. But I saw the gray form pitch +headlong and I heard a solid thump. + +"Buck, an' he's your meat!" called Copple, low and sharp. "Look for +another one." + +No other deer appeared. R.C. ran toward the spot where the gray form had +plunged in a heap, and Copple and I followed. It was far enough to make +me pant for breath. We found R.C. beside a fine three-point buck that +had been shot square in the back of the head between and below the roots +of its antlers. + +"Never knew what struck him!" exclaimed Copple, and he laid hold of the +deer and hauled it out of the edge of the thicket. "Fine an' fat. +Venison for camp, boys. One of you go after the horses an' the other +help me hang him up." + + +VI + +I had been riding eastward of Beaver Dam Canyon with Haught, and we had +parted up on the ridge, he to go down a ravine leading to his camp, and +I to linger a while longer up there in the Indian-summer woods, so full +of gold and silence and fragrance on that October afternoon. + +The trail gradually drew me onward and downward, and at length I came +out into a narrow open park lined by spruce trees. Suddenly Don Carlos +shot up his ears. I had not ridden him for days and he appeared more +than usually spirited. He saw or heard something. I held him in, and +after a moment I dismounted and drew my rifle. A crashing in brush +somewhere near at hand excited me. Peering all around I tried to locate +cause for the sound. Again my ear caught a violent swishing of brush +accompanied by a snapping of twigs. This time I cocked my rifle. Don +Carlos snorted. After another circling swift gaze it dawned upon me that +the sound came from overhead. + +I looked into this tree and that, suddenly to have my gaze arrested by a +threshing commotion in the very top of a lofty spruce. I saw a dark form +moving against a background of blue sky. Instantly I thought it must be +a lynx and was about to raise my rifle when a voice as from the very +clouds utterly astounded me. I gasped in my astonishment. Was I +dreaming? But violent threshings and whacks from the tree-top absolutely +assured me that I was neither dreaming nor out of my head. "I get +you--whee!" shouted the voice. There was a man up in the swaying top of +that spruce and he was no other than Takahashi. For a moment I could not +find my voice. Then I shouted: + +"Hey up there, George! What in the world are you doing? I came near +shooting you." + +"Aw hullo!--I come down now," replied Takahashi. + +I had seen both lynx and lion climb down out of a tree, but nothing +except a squirrel could ever have beaten Takahashi. The spruce was fully +one hundred and fifty feet high; and unless I made a great mistake the +Jap descended in two minutes. He grinned from ear to ear. + +"I no see you--no hear," he said. "You take me for big cat?" + +"Yes, George, and I might have shot you. What were you doing up there?" + +Takahashi brushed the needles and bark from his clothes. "I go out with +little gun you give me. I hunt, no see squirrel. Go out no gun--see +squirrel. I chase him up tree--I climb high--awful high. No good. +Squirrel he too quick. He run right over me--get away." + +Takahashi laughed with me. I believed he was laughing at what he +considered the surprising agility of the squirrel, while I was laughing +at him. Here was another manifestation of the Jap's simplicity and +capacity. If all Japanese were like Takahashi they were a wonderful +people. Men are men because they do things. The Persians were trained to +sweat freely at least once every day of their lives. It seemed to me +that if a man did not sweat every day, which was to say--labor hard--he +very surely was degenerating physically. I could learn a great deal from +George Takahashi. Right there I told him that my father had been a +famous squirrel hunter in his day. He had such remarkable eyesight that +he could espy the ear of a squirrel projecting above the highest limb +of a tall white oak. And he was such a splendid shot that he had often +"barked" squirrels, as was a noted practice of the old pioneer. I had to +explain to Takahashi that this practice consisted of shooting a bullet +to hit the bark right under the squirrel, and the concussion would so +stun it that it would fall as if dead. + +"Aw my goodnish--your daddy more better shot than you!" ejaculated +Takahashi. + +"Yes indeed he was," I replied, reflectively, as in a flash the +long-past boyhood days recurred in memory. Hunting days--playing days of +boyhood were the best of life. It seemed to me that one of the few +reasons I still had for clinging to hunting was this keen, thrilling +hark back to early days. Books first--then guns--then fishing poles--so +ran the list of material possessions dear to my heart as a lad. + +That night was moonlight, cold, starry, with a silver sheen on the +spectral spruces. During the night there came a change; it rained--first +a drizzle, then a heavy downpour, and at five-thirty a roar of hail on +the tent. This music did not last long. At seven o'clock the thermometer +registered thirty-four degrees, but there was no frost. The morning was +somewhat cloudy or foggy, with promise of clearing. + +We took the hounds over to See Canyon, and while Edd and Nielsen went +down with them, the rest of us waited above for developments. Scarcely +had they more than time enough to reach the gorge below when the pack +burst into full chorus. Haught led the way then around the rough rim for +better vantage points. I was mounted on one of the horses Lee had gotten +for me--a fine, spirited animal named Stockings. Probably he had been a +cavalry horse. He was a bay with white feet, well built and powerful, +though not over medium size. One splendid feature about him was that a +saddle appeared to fit him so snugly it never slipped. And another +feature, infinitely the most attractive to me, was his easy gait. His +trot and lope were so comfortable and swinging, like the motion of a +rocking-chair, that I could ride him all day with pleasure. But when it +came to chasing after hounds and bears along the rim Stockings gave me +trouble. Too eager, too spirited, he would not give me time to choose +the direction. He jumped ditches and gullies, plunged into bad jumbles +or rock, tried to hurdle logs too high for him, carried me under low +branches and through dense thickets, and in general showed he was +exceedingly willing to chase after the pack, but ignorant of rough +forest travel. Owing to this I fell behind, and got out of hearing of +both hounds and men, and eventually found myself lost somewhere on the +west side of See Canyon. To get out I had to turn my back to the sun, +travel west till I came to the rim above Horton Thicket, and from there +return to camp, arriving rather late in the afternoon. + +All the men had returned, and all the hounds except Buck. I was rather +surprised and disturbed to find the Haughts in a high state of dudgeon. +Edd looked pale and angry. Upon questioning Nielsen I learned that the +hounds had at once struck a fresh bear track in See Canyon. Nielsen and +Edd had not followed far before they heard a hound yelping in pain. They +found Buck caught in a bear trap. The rest of the hounds came upon a +little bear cub, caught in another trap, and killed it. Nielsen said it +had evidently been a prisoner for some days, being very poor and +emaciated. Fresh tracks of the mother bear were proof that she had been +around trying to save it or minister to it. There were trappers in See +Canyon; and between bear hunters and trappers manifestly there was no +love lost. Edd said they had as much right to trap as we had to hunt, +but that was not the question. There had been opportunity to tell the +Haughts about the big number four bear traps set in See Canyon. But they +did not tell it. Edd had brought the dead cub back to our camp. It was a +pretty little bear cub, about six months old, with a soft silky brown +coat. No one had to look at it twice to see how it had suffered. + +This matter of trapping wild animals is singularly hateful to me. Bad +enough is it to stalk deer to shoot them for their meat, but at least +this is a game where the deer have all the advantage. Bad indeed it may +be to chase bear with hounds, but that is a hard, dangerous method of +hunting which gives it some semblance of fairness. Most of my bear hunts +proved to me that I ran more risks than the bears. To set traps, +however, to hide big iron-springed, spike-toothed traps to catch and +clutch wild animals alive, and hold them till they died or starved or +gnawed off their feet, or until the trapper chose to come with his gun +or club to end the miserable business--what indeed shall I call that? +Cruel--base--cowardly! + +It cannot be defended on moral grounds. But vast moneyed interests are +at stake. One of the greatest of American fortunes was built upon the +brutal, merciless trapping of wild animals for their furs. And in this +fall of 1919 the prices of fox, marten, beaver, raccoon, skunk, lynx, +muskrat, mink, otter, were higher by double than they had ever been. +Trappers were going to reap a rich harvest. Well, everybody must make a +living; but is this trapping business honest, is it manly? To my +knowledge trappers are hardened. Market fishermen are hardened, too, but +the public eat fish. They do not eat furs. Now in cold climates and +seasons furs are valuable to protect people who must battle with winter +winds and sleet and ice; and against their use by such I daresay there +is no justification for censure. But the vast number of furs go to deck +the persons of vain women. I appreciate the beautiful contrast of fair +skin against a background of sable fur, or silver fox, or rich, black, +velvety seal. But beautiful women would be just as beautiful, just as +warmly clothed in wool instead of fur. And infinitely better women! Not +long ago I met a young woman in one of New York's fashionable hotels, +and I remarked about the exquisite evening coat of fur she wore. She +said she loved furs. She certainly was handsome, and she appeared to be +refined, cultured, a girl of high class. And I said it was a pity women +did not know or care where furs came from. She seemed surprised. Then I +told her about the iron-jawed, spike-toothed traps hidden by the springs +or on the runways of game--about the fox or beaver or marten seeking its +food, training its young to fare for themselves--about the sudden +terrible clutch of the trap, and then the frantic fear, the instinctive +fury, the violent struggle--about the foot gnawed off by the beast that +was too fierce to die a captive--about the hours of agony, the horrible +thirst--the horrible days till death. And I concluded: "All because +women are luxurious and vain!" She shuddered underneath the beautiful +coat of furs, and seemed insulted. + +Upon inquiry I learned from Nielsen that Buck was coming somewhere back +along the trail hopping along on three legs. I rode on down to my camp, +and procuring a bottle of iodine I walked back in the hope of doing Buck +a good turn. During my absence he had reached camp, and was lying under +an aspen, apart from the other hounds. Buck looked meaner and uglier and +more distrustful than ever. Evidently this injury to his leg was a trick +played upon him by his arch enemy man. I stood beside him, as he licked +the swollen, bloody leg, and talked to him, as kindly as I knew how. And +finally I sat down beside him. The trap-teeth had caught his right front +leg just above the first joint, and from the position of the teeth marks +and the way he moved his leg I had hopes that the bone was not broken. +Apparently the big teeth had gone through on each side of the bone. When +I tried gently to touch the swollen leg Buck growled ominously. He would +have bitten me. I patted his head with one hand, and watching my chance, +at length with the other I poured iodine over the open cuts. Then I kept +patting him and holding his head until the iodine had become absorbed. +Perhaps it was only my fancy, but it seemed that the ugly gleam in his +distrustful eyes had become sheepish, as if he was ashamed of something +he did not understand. That look more than ever determined me to try to +find some way to his affections. + +A camp-fire council that night resulted in plans to take a pack outfit, +and ride west along the rim to a place Haught called Dude Creek. "Reckon +we'll shore smoke up some bars along Dude," said Haught. "Never was in +there but I jumped bars. Good deer an' turkey country, too." + +Next day we rested the hounds, and got things into packing shape with +the intention of starting early the following morning. But it rained on +and off; and the day after that we could not find Haught's burros, and +not until the fourth morning could we start. It turned out that Buck did +not have a broken leg and had recovered surprisingly from the injury he +had received. Aloof as he held himself it appeared certain he did not +want to be left behind. + +We rode all day along the old Crook road where the year before we had +encountered so many obstacles. I remembered most of the road, but how +strange it seemed to me, and what a proof of my mental condition on that +memorable trip, that I did not remember all. Usually forest or desert +ground I have traveled over I never forget. This ride, in the middle of +October, when all the colors of autumn vied with the sunlight to make +the forest a region of golden enchantment, was one of particular delight +to me. I had begun to work and wear out the pain in my back. Every night +I had suffered a little less and slept a little better, and every +morning I had less and less of a struggle to get up and straighten out. +Many a groan had I smothered. But now, when I got warmed up from riding +or walking or sawing wood, the pain left me altogether and I forgot it. +I had given myself heroic treatment, but my reward was in sight. My +theory that the outdoor life would cure almost any ill of body or mind +seemed to have earned another proof added to the long list. + +At sunset we had covered about sixteen miles of rough road, and had +arrived at a point where we were to turn away from the rim, down into a +canyon named Barber Shop Canyon, where we were to camp. + +[Illustration: Z.G.'S CINNAMON BEAR] + +[Illustration: R.C.'S BIG BROWN BEAR] + +Before turning aside I rode out to the rim for a look down at the +section of country we were to hunt. What a pleasure to recognize the +point from which Romer-boy had seen his first wild bear! It was a +wonderful section of rim-rock country. I appeared to be at the extreme +point of a vast ten-league promontory, rising high over the basin, where +the rim was cut into canyons as thick as teeth of a saw. They were +notched and v-shaped. Craggy russet-lichened cliffs, yellow and +gold-stained rocks, old crumbling ruins of pinnacles crowned by pine +thickets, ravines and gullies and canyons, choked with trees and brush +all green-gold, purple-red, scarlet-fire--these indeed were the heights +and depths, the wild, lonely ruggedness, the color and beauty of +Arizona land. There were long, steep slopes of oak thickets, where the +bears lived, long gray slides of weathered rocks, long slanting ridges +of pine, descending for miles out and down into the green basin, yet +always seeming to stand high above that rolling wilderness. The sun +stood crossed by thin clouds--a golden blaze in a golden sky--sinking to +meet a ragged horizon line of purple. + +[Illustration: ANOTHER BEAR] + +Here again was I confronted with the majesty and beauty of the earth, +and with another and more striking effect of this vast tilted rim of +mesa. I could see many miles to west and east. This rim was a huge wall +of splintered rock, a colossal cliff, towering so high above the black +basin below that ravines and canyons resembled ripples or dimples, +darker lines of shade. And on the other side from its very edge, where +the pine fringe began, it sloped gradually to the north, with heads of +canyons opening almost at the crest. I saw one ravine begin its start +not fifty feet from the rim. + +Barber Shop Canyon had five heads, all running down like the fingers of +a hand, to form the main canyon, which was deep, narrow, forested by +giant pines. A round, level dell, watered by a murmuring brook, deep +down among the many slopes, was our camp ground, and never had I seen +one more desirable. The wind soughed in the lofty pine tops, but not a +breeze reached down to this sheltered nook. With sunset gold on the high +slopes our camp was shrouded in twilight shadows. R.C. and I stretched a +canvas fly over a rope from tree to tree, staked down the ends, and left +the sides open. Under this we unrolled our beds. + +Night fell quickly down in that sequestered pit, and indeed it was black +night. A blazing camp-fire enhanced the circling gloom, and invested the +great brown pines with some weird aspect. The boys put up an old tent +for the hounds. Poor Buck was driven out of this shelter by his canine +rivals. I took pity upon him, and tied him at the foot of my bed. When +R.C. and I crawled into our blankets we discovered Buck snugly settled +between our beds, and wonderful to hear, he whined. "Well, Buck, old +dog, you keep the skunks away," said R.C. And Buck emitted some kind of +a queer sound, apparently meant to assure us that he would keep even a +lion away. From my bed I could see the tips of the black pines close to +the white stars. Before I dropped to sleep the night grew silent, except +for the faint moan of wind and low murmur of brook. + +We crawled out early, keen to run from the cold wash in the brook to the +hot camp-fire. George and Edd had gone down the canyon after the horses, +which had been hobbled and turned loose. Lee had remained with his +father at Beaver Dam camp. For breakfast Takahashi had venison, +biscuits, griddle cakes with maple syrup, and hot cocoa. I certainly did +not begin on an empty stomach what augured to be a hard day. Buck hung +around me this morning, and I subdued my generous impulses long enough +to be convinced that he had undergone a subtle change. Then I fed him. +Old Dan and Old Tom were witnesses of this procedure, which they +regarded with extreme disfavor. And the pups tried to pick a fight with +Buck. + +By eight o'clock we were riding up the colored slopes, through the still +forest, with the sweet, fragrant, frosty air nipping at our noses. A +mile from camp we reached a notch in the rim that led down to Dude +Creek, and here Edd and Nielsen descended with the hounds. The rest of +us rode out to a point there to await developments. The sun had already +flooded the basin with golden light; the east slopes of canyon and rim +were dark in shade. I sat on a mat of pine needles near the rim, and +looked, and cared not for passage of time. + +But I was not permitted to be left to sensorial dreams. Right under us +the hounds opened up, filling the canyon full of bellowing echoes. They +worked down. Slopes below us narrowed to promontories and along these we +kept our gaze. Suddenly Haught gave a jump, and rose, thumping to his +horse. "Saw a bar," he yelled. "Just got a glimpse of him crossin' an +open ridge. Come on." We mounted and chased Haught over the roughest +kind of rocky ground, to overtake him at the next point on the rim. +"Ride along, you fellars," he said, "an' each pick out a stand. Keep +ahead of the dogs an' look sharp." + +Then it was in short order that I found myself alone, Copple, R.C. and +George Haught having got ahead of me. I kept to the rim. The hounds +could be heard plainly and also the encouraging yells of Nielsen and +Edd. Apparently the chase was working along under me, in the direction I +was going. The baying of the pack, the scent of pine, the ring of +iron-shod hoofs on stone, the sense of wild, broken, vast country, the +golden void beneath and the purple-ranged horizon--all these brought +vividly and thrillingly to mind my hunting days with Buffalo Jones along +the north rim of the Grand Canyon. I felt a pang, both for the past, and +for my friend and teacher, this last of the old plainsmen who had died +recently. In his last letter to me, written with a death-stricken hand, +he had talked of another hunt, of more adventure, of his cherished hope +to possess an island in the north Pacific, there to propagate wild +animals--he had dreamed again the dream that could never come true. I +was riding with my face to the keen, sweet winds of the wild, and he was +gone. No joy in life is ever perfect. I wondered if any grief was ever +wholly hopeless. + +I came at length to a section of rim where huge timbered steps reached +out and down. Dismounting I tied Stockings, and descended to the craggy +points below, where I clambered here and there, looking, listening. No +longer could I locate the hounds; now the baying sounded clear and +sharp, close at hand, and then hollow and faint, and far away. I crawled +under gnarled cedars, over jumbles of rock, around leaning crags, until +I got out to a point where I had such command of slopes and capes, where +the scene was so grand that I was both thrilled and awed. Somewhere +below me to my left were the hounds still baying. The lower reaches of +the rim consisted of ridges and gorges, benches and ravines, canyons and +promontories--a country so wild and broken that it seemed impossible for +hounds to travel it, let alone men. Above me, to my right, stuck out a +yellow point of rim, and beyond that I knew there jutted out another +point, and more and more points on toward the west. George was yelling +from one of them, and I thought I heard a faint reply from R.C. or +Copple. I believed for the present they were too far westward along the +rim, and so I devoted my attention to the slopes under me toward my +left. But once my gaze wandered around, and suddenly I espied a shiny +black object moving along a bare slope, far below. A bear! So thrilled +and excited was I that I did not wonder why this bear walked along so +leisurely and calmly. Assuredly he had not even heard the hounds. I +began to shoot, and in five rapid shots I spattered dust all over him. +Not until I had two more shots, one of which struck close, did he begin +to run. Then he got out of my sight. I yelled and yelled to those ahead +of me along the rim. Somebody answered, and next somebody began to +shoot. How I climbed and crawled and scuffled to get back to my horse! +Stockings answered to the spirit of the occasion. Like a deer he ran +around the rough rim, and I had to perform with the agility of a +contortionist to avoid dead snags of trees and green branches. When I +got to the point from which I had calculated George had done his +shooting I found no one. My yells brought no answers. But I heard a +horse cracking the rocks behind me. Then up from far below rang the +sharp spangs of rifles in quick action. Nielsen and Edd were shooting. I +counted seven shots. How the echoes rang from wall to wall, to die +hollow and faint in the deep canyons! + +I galloped ahead to the next point, finding only the tracks of R.C.'s +boots. Everywhere I peered for the bear I had sighted, and at intervals +I yelled. For all the answer I got I might as well have been alone on +the windy rim of the world. My voice seemed lost in immensity. Then I +rode westward, then back eastward, and to and fro until both Stockings +and I were weary. At last I gave up, and took a good, long rest under a +pine on the rim. Not a shot, not a yell, not a sound but wind and the +squall of a jay disrupted the peace of that hour. I profited by this +lull in the excitement by more means than one, particularly in sight of +a flock of wild pigeons. They alighted in the tops of pines below me, so +that I could study them through my field glass. They were considerably +larger than doves, dull purple color on the back, light on the breast, +with ringed or barred neck. Haught had assured me that birds of this +description were indeed the famous wild pigeons, now almost extinct in +the United States. I remembered my father telling me he had seen flocks +that darkened the skies. These pigeons appeared to have swift flight. + +Another feature of this rest along the rim was a sight just as beautiful +as that of the pigeons, though not so rare; and it was the flying of +clouds of colored autumn leaves on the wind. + +The westering of the sun advised me that the hours had fled, and it was +high time for me to bestir myself toward camp. On my way back I found +Haught, his son George, Copple and R.C. waiting for Edd and Nielsen to +come up over the rim, and for me to return. They asked for my story. +Then I learned theirs. Haught had kept even with the hounds, but had +seen only the brown bear that had crossed the ridge early in the day. +Copple had worked far westward, to no avail. R.C. had been close to +George and me, had heard our bullets pat, yet had been unable to locate +any bear. To my surprise it turned out that George had shot at a brown +bear when I had supposed it was my black one. Whereupon Haught said: +"Reckon Edd an' Nielsen smoked up some other bear." + +One by one the hounds climbed over the rim and wearily lay down beside +us. Down the long, grassy, cedared aisle I saw Edd and Nielsen plodding +up. At length they reached us wet and dusty and thirsty. When Edd got +his breath he said: "Right off we struck a hot trail. Bear with +eleven-inch track. He'd come down to drink last night. Hounds worked up +thet yeller oak thicket, an' somewhere Sue an' Rock jumped him out of +his bed. He run down, an' he made some racket. Took to the low slopes +an' hit up lively all the way down Dude, then crossed, climbed around +under thet bare point of rock. Here some of the hounds caught up with +him. We heard a pup yelp, an' after a while Kaiser Bill come sneakin' +back. It was awful thick down in the canyon so we climbed the east side +high enough to see. An' we were workin' down when the pack bayed the +bear round thet bare point. It was up an' across from us. Nielsen an' I +climbed on a rock. There was an open rock-slide where we thought the +bear would show. It was five hundred yards. We ought to have gone across +an' got a stand higher up. Well, pretty soon we saw him come paddlin' +out of the brush--a big grizzly, almost black, with a frosty back. He +was a silvertip all right. Niels an' I began to shoot. An' thet bear +began to hump himself. He was mad, too. His fur stood up like a ruffle +on his neck. Niels got four shots an' I got three. Reckon one of us +stung him a little. Lordy, how he run! An' his last jump off the slide +was a header into the brush. He crossed the canyon, an' climbed thet +high east slope of Dude, goin' over the pass where father killed the big +cinnamon three years ago. The hounds stuck to his trail. It took us an +hour or more to climb up to thet pass. Broad bear trail goes over. We +heard the hounds 'way down in the canyon on the other side. Niels an' I +worked along the ridge, down an' around, an' back to Dude Creek. I kept +callin' the hounds till they all came back. They couldn't catch him. He +sure was a jack-rabbit for runnin'. Reckon thet's all.... Now who was +smokin' shells up on the rim?" + +When all was told and talked over Haught said: "Wal, you can just bet we +put up two brown bears an' one black bear, an' thet old Jasper of a +silvertip." + +How hungry and thirsty and tired I was when we got back to camp! The day +had been singularly rich in exciting thrills and sensorial perceptions. +I called to the Jap: "I'm starv-ved to death!" And Takahashi, who had +many times heard my little boy Loren yell that, grinned all over his +dusky face. "Aw, lots good things pretty soon!" + +After supper we lounged around a cheerful, crackling camp-fire. The +blaze roared in the breeze, the red embers glowed white and opal, the +smoke swooped down and curled away into the night shadows. Old Dan, as +usual, tried to sit in the fire, and had to be rescued. Buck came to me +where I sat with my back to a pine, my feet to the warmth. He was lame +to-night, having run all day on that injured leg. The other dogs lay +scattered around in range of the heat. Natural indeed was it then, in +such an environment, after talking over the auspicious start of our hunt +at Dude Creek, that we should drift to the telling of stories. + +Sensing this drift I opened the hour of reminiscence and told some of my +experiences in the jungle of southern Mexico. Copple immediately topped +my stories by more wonderful and hair-raising ones about his own +adventures in northern Mexico. These stirred Nielsen to talk about the +Seri Indians, and their cannibalistic traits; and from these he drifted +to the Yuma Indians. Speaking of their remarkable stature and strength +he finally got to the subject of giants of brawn and bone in Norway. + +One young Norwegian was eight feet tall and broad in proportion. His +employer was a captain of a fishing boat. One time, on the way to their +home port, a quarrel arose about money due the young giant, and in his +anger he heaved the anchor overboard. That of course halted the boat, +and it stayed halted, because the captain and crew could not heave the +heavy anchor without the help of their brawny comrade. Finally the money +matter was adjusted, and the young giant heaved the anchor without +assistance. Nielsen went on to tell that this fisherman of such mighty +frame had a beautiful young wife whom he adored. She was not by any +means a small or frail girl--rather the contrary--but she appeared +diminutive beside her giant husband. One day he returned from a long +absence on the sea. When his wife, in her joy, ran into his arms, he +gave her such a tremendous hug that he crushed her chest, and she died. +In his grief the young husband went insane and did not survive her long. + +Next Nielsen told a story about Norwegians sailing to the Arctic on a +scientific expedition. Just before the long polar night of darkness set +in there arose a necessity for the ship and crew to return to Norway. +Two men must be left in the Arctic to care for the supplies until the +ship came back. The captain called for volunteers. There were two young +men in the crew, and from childhood they had been playmates, +schoolmates, closer than brothers, and inseparable even in manhood. One +of these young men said to his friend: "I'll stay if you will." And the +other quickly agreed. After the ship sailed, and the land of the +midnight sun had become icy and black, one of these comrades fell ill, +and soon died. The living one placed the body in the room with the ship +supplies, where it froze stiff; and during all the long polar night of +solitude and ghastly gloom he lived next to this sepulchre that +contained his dead friend. When the ship returned the crew found the +living comrade an old man with hair as white as snow, and never in his +life afterward was he seen to smile. + +These stories stirred my emotions like Doyle's tale about Jones' Ranch. +How wonderful, beautiful, terrible and tragical is human life! Again I +heard the still, sad music of humanity, the eternal beat and moan of the +waves upon a lonely shingle shore. Who would not be a teller of tales? + +Copple followed Nielsen with a story about a prodigious feat of his +own--a story of incredible strength and endurance, which at first I took +to be a satire on Nielsen's remarkable narrative. But Copple seemed +deadly serious, and I began to see that he possessed a strange +simplicity of exaggeration. The boys thought Copple stretched the truth +a little, but I thought that he believed what he told. + +Haught was a great teller of tales, and his first story of the evening +happened to be about his brother Bill. They had a long chase after a +bear and became separated. Bill was new at the game, and he was a +peculiar fellow anyhow. Much given to talking to himself! Haught finally +rode to the edge of a ridge and espied Bill under a pine in which the +hounds had treed a bear. Bill did not hear Haught's approach, and on the +moment he was stalking round the pine, swearing at the bear, which clung +to a branch about half way up. Then Haught discovered two more +full-grown bears up in the top of the pine, the presence of which Bill +had not the remotest suspicion. "Ahuh! you ole black Jasper!" Bill was +yelling. "I treed you an' in a minnit I'm agoin' to assassinate you. +Chased me about a hundred miles--! An' thought you'd fool me, didn't +you? Why, I've treed more bears than you ever saw--! You needn't look at +me like thet, 'cause I'm mad as a hornet. I'm agoin' to assassinate you +in a minnit an' skin your black har off, I am--" + +"Bill," interrupted Haught, "what are you goin' to do about the other +two bears up in the top of the tree?" + +Bill was amazed to hear and see his brother, and greatly astounded and +tremendously elated to discover the other two bears. He yelled and acted +as one demented. "Three black Jaspers! I've treed you all. An' I'm +agoin' to assassinate you all!" + +"See here, Bill," said Haught, "before you begin that assassinatin' make +up your mind not to cripple any of them. You've got to shoot straight, +so they'll be dead when they fall. If they're only crippled, they'll +kill the hounds." + +Bill was insulted at any suggestions as to his possible poor +marksmanship. But this happened to be his first experience with bears in +trees. He began to shoot and it took nine shots for him to dislodge the +bears. Worse than that they all tumbled out of the tree--apparently +unhurt. The hounds, of course, attacked them, and there arose a +terrible uproar. Haught had to run down to save his dogs. Bill was going +to shoot right into the melee, but Haught knocked the rifle up, and +forbid him to use it. Then Bill ran into the thick of the fray to beat +off the hounds. Haught became exceedingly busy himself, and finally +disposed of two of the bears. Then hearing angry bawls and terrific +yells he turned to see Bill climbing a tree with a big black bear +tearing the seat out of his pants. Haught disposed of this bear also. +Then he said: "Bill, I thought you was goin' to assassinate them." Bill +slid down out of the tree, very pale and disheveled. "By Golly, I'll +skin 'em anyhow!" + +Haught had another brother named Henry, who had come to Arizona from +Texas, and had brought a half-hound with him. Henry offered to wager +this dog was the best bear chaser in the country. The general impression +Henry's hound gave was that he would not chase a rabbit. Finally Haught +took his brother Henry and some other men on a bear hunt. There were +wagers made as to the quality of Henry's half-hound. When at last +Haught's pack struck a hot scent, and were off with the men riding fast +behind, Henry's half-breed loped alongside his master, paying no +attention to the wild baying of the pack. He would look up at Henry as +if to say: "No hurry, boss. Wait a little. Then I'll show them!" He +loped along, wagging his tail, evidently enjoying this race with his +master. After a while the chase grew hotter. Then Henry's half-hound ran +ahead a little way, and came back to look up wisely, as if to say: "Not +time yet!" After a while, when the chase grew very hot indeed, Henry's +wonderful canine let out a wild yelp, darted ahead, overtook the pack +and took the lead in the chase, literally chewing the heels of the bear +till he treed. Haught and his friends lost all the wagers. + +The most remarkable bears in this part of Arizona were what Haught +called blue bears, possibly some kind of a cross between brown and +black. This species was a long, slim, blue-furred bear with unusually +large teeth and very long claws. So different from ordinary bears that +it appeared another species. The blue bear could run like a greyhound, +and keep it up all day and all night. Its power of endurance was +incredible. In Haught's twenty years of hunting there he had seen a +number of blue bears and had killed two. Haught chased one all day with +young and fast hounds. He went to camp, but the hounds stuck to the +chase. Next day Haught followed the hounds and bear from Dude Creek over +into Verde Canyon, back to Dude Creek, and then back to Verde again. +Here Haught gave out, and was on his way home when he met the blue bear +padding along as lively as ever. + +I never tired of listening to Haught. He had killed over a hundred +bears, many of them vicious grizzlies, and he had often escaped by a +breadth of a hair, but the killing stories were not the most interesting +to me. Haught had lived a singularly elemental life. He never knew what +to tell me, because I did not know what to ask for, so I just waited for +stories, experiences, woodcraft, natural history and the like, to come +when they would. Once he had owned an old bay horse named Moze. Under +any conditions of weather or country Moze could find his way back to +camp. Haught would let go the bridle, and Moze would stick up his ears, +look about him, and circle home. No matter if camp had been just where +Haught had last thrown a packsaddle! + +When Haught first came to Arizona and began his hunting up over the rim +he used to get down in the cedar country, close to the desert. Here he +heard of a pure black antelope that was the leader of a herd of ordinary +color, which was a grayish white. The day came when Haught saw this +black antelope. It was a very large, beautiful stag, the most noble and +wild and sagacious animal Haught had ever seen. For years he tried to +stalk it and kill it, and so did other hunters. But no hunter ever got +even a shot at it. Finally this black antelope disappeared and was never +heard of again. + +By this time Copple had been permitted a long breathing spell, and now +began a tale calculated to outdo the Arabian Nights. I envied his most +remarkable imagination. His story had to do with hunting meat for a +mining camp in Mexico. He got so expert with a rifle that he never aimed +at deer. Just threw his gun, as was a habit of gun-fighters! Once the +camp was out of meat, and also he was out of ammunition. Only one shell +left! He came upon a herd of deer licking salt at a deer lick. They were +small deer and he wanted several or all of them. So he manoeuvred around +and waited until five of the deer had lined up close together. Then, to +make sure, he aimed so as to send his one bullet through their necks. +Killed the whole five in one shot! + +We were all reduced to a state of mute helplessness and completely at +Copple's mercy. Next he gave us one of his animal tales. He was hunting +along the gulf shore on the coast of Sonora, where big turtles come out +to bask in the sun and big jaguars come down to prowl for meat. One +morning he saw a jaguar jump on the back of a huge turtle, and begin to +paw at its neck. Promptly the turtle drew in head and flippers, and was +safe under its shell. The jaguar scratched and clawed at a great rate, +but to no avail. Then the big cat turned round and seized the tail of +the turtle and began to chew it. Whereupon the turtle stuck out its +head, opened its huge mouth and grasped the tail of the jaguar. First to +give in was the cat. He let go and let out a squall. But the turtle +started to crawl off, got going strong, and dragged the jaguar into the +sea and drowned him. With naive earnestness Copple assured his mute +listeners that he could show them the exact spot in Sonora where this +happened. + +Retribution inevitably overtakes transgressors. Copple in his immense +loquaciousness was not transgressing much, for he really was no greater +dreamer than I, but the way he put things made us want to see the mighty +hunter have a fall. + +We rested the hounds next day, and I was glad to rest myself. About +sunset Copple rode up to the rim to look for his mules. We all heard him +shoot eight times with his rifle and two with his revolver. Everybody +said: "Turkeys! Ten turkeys--maybe a dozen, if Copple got two in line!" +And we were all glad to think so. We watched eagerly for him, but he did +not return till dark. He seemed vastly sore at himself. What a +remarkable hard luck story he told! He had come upon a flock of turkeys, +and they were rather difficult to see. All of them were close, and +running fast. He shot eight times at eight turkeys and missed them all. +Too dark--brush--trees--running like deer. Copple had a dozen excuses. +Then he saw a turkey on a log ten feet away. He shot twice. The turkey +was a knot, and he had missed even that. + +Thereupon I seized my opportunity and reminded all present how Copple +had called out: "Turkey number one! Turkey number two!" the day I had +missed so many. Then I said: + +"Ben, you must have yelled out to-night like this." And I raised my +voice high. + +"Turkey number one--Nix!... Turkey number two--missed, by Gosh!... +Turkey number three--never touched him!... Turkey number four--No!... +Turkey number five--_Aw, I'm shootin' blank shells_!... Turkey number +six on the log--BY THUNDER, I CAN'T SEE STRAIGHT!" + +We all had our fun at Copple's expense. The old bear hunter, Haught, +rolled on the ground, over and over, and roared in his mirth. + + +VII + +Early next morning before the sun had tipped the pines with gold I went +down Barber Shop Canyon with Copple to look for our horses. During the +night our stock had been chased by a lion. We had all been awakened by +their snorting and stampeding. We found our horses scattered, the burros +gone, and Copple's mules still squared on guard, ready to fight. Copple +assured me that this formation of his mules on guard was an infallible +sign of lions prowling around. One of these mules he had owned for ten +years and it was indeed the most intelligent beast I ever saw in the +woods. + +We found three beaver dams across the brook, one about fifty feet long, +and another fully two hundred. Fresh turkey tracks showed in places, and +on the top of the longer dam, fresh made in the mud, were lion tracks as +large as the crown of my hat. How sight of them made me tingle all over! +Here was absolute proof of the prowling of one of the great cats. + +Beaver tracks were everywhere. They were rather singular looking tracks, +the front feet being five-toed, and the back three-toed, and webbed. +Near the slides on the bank the water was muddy, showing that the beaver +had been at work early. These animals worked mostly at night, but +sometimes at sunset and sunrise. They were indeed very cautious and +wary. These dams had just been completed and no aspens had yet been cut +for food. Beaver usually have two holes to their home, one under the +water, and the other out on the bank. We found one of these outside +burrows and it was nearly a foot wide. + +Upon our return to camp with the horses Haught said he could put up that +lion for us, and from the size of its track he judged it to be a big +one. I did not want to hunt lions and R.C. preferred to keep after +bears. "Wal," said Haught, "I'll take an off day an' chase thet lion. +Had a burro killed here a couple of years ago." + +So we rode out with the hounds on another bear hunt. Pyle's Canyon lay +to the east of Dude Creek, and we decided to run it that day. Edd and +Nielsen started down with the hounds. Copple and I followed shortly +afterward with the intention of descending mid-way, and then working +along the ridge crests and promontories. The other boys remained on the +rim to take up various stands as occasion called for. + +I had never been on as steep slopes as these under the rim. They were +grassy, brushy, rocky, but it was their steepness that made them so hard +to travel. Right off, half way down, we started a herd of bucks. The +noise they made sounded like cattle. We found tracks of half a dozen. +"Lots of deer under the rim," declared Copple, his eyes gleaming. +"They're feedin' on acorns. Here's where you'll get your big buck." +After that I kept a sharp lookout, arguing with myself that a buck close +at hand was worth a lot of bears down in the brush. + +Presently we changed a direct descent to work gradually along the slopes +toward a great level bench covered with pines. We had to cross gravel +patches and pits where avalanches had slid, and at last, gaining the +bench we went through the pine grove, out to a manzanita thicket, to a +rocky point where the ledges were toppling and dangerous. The stand here +afforded a magnificent view. We were now down in the thick of this +sloped and canyoned and timbered wildness; no longer above it, and aloof +from it. The dry smell of pine filled the air. When we finally halted to +listen we at once heard the baying of the hounds in the black notch +below us. We watched and listened. And presently across open patches we +saw the flash of deer, and then Rock and Buck following them. Thus were +my suspicions of Rock fully confirmed. Copple yelled down to Edd that +some of the hounds were running deer, but apparently Edd was too far +away to hear. + +Still, after a while we heard the mellow tones of Edd's horn, calling in +the hounds. And then he blew the signal to acquaint all of us above that +he was going down around the point to drive the next canyon. Copple and +I had to choose between climbing back to the rim or trying to cross the +slopes and head the gorges, and ascend the huge ridge that separated +Pyle's Canyon from the next canyon. I left the question to Copple, with +the result that we stayed below. + +We were still high up, though when we gazed aloft at the rim we felt so +far down, and the slopes were steep, stony, soft in places and slippery +in others, with deep cuts and patches of manzanita. No stranger was I to +this beautiful treacherous Spanish brush! I shared with Copple a dislike +of it almost equal to that inspired by cactus. We soon were hot, dusty, +dry, and had begun to sweat. The immense distances of the place were +what continually struck me. Distances that were deceptive--that looked +short and were interminable! That was Arizona. We covered miles in our +detours and we had to travel fast because we knew Edd could round the +base of the lower points in quick time. + +Above the head of the third gorge Copple and I ran across an enormous +bear track, fresh in the dust, leading along an old bear trail. This +track measured twelve inches. "He's an old Jasper, as Haught says," +declared Copple. "Grizzly. An' you can bet he heard the dogs an' got +movin' away from here. But he ain't scared. He was walkin'." + +I forgot the arduous toil. How tight and cool and prickling the feel of +my skin! The fresh track of a big grizzly would rouse the hunter in any +man. We made sure how fresh this track was by observing twigs and sprigs +of manzanita just broken. The wood was green, and wet with sap. Old +Bruin had not escaped our eyes any too soon. We followed this bear +trail, evidently one used for years. It made climbing easy for us. Trust +a big, heavy, old grizzly to pick out the best traveling over rough +country! This fellow, I concluded, had the eye of a surveyor. His trail +led gradually toward a wonderful crag-crowned ridge that rolled and +heaved down from the rim. It had a dip or saddle in the middle, and rose +from that to the lofty mesa, and then on the lower side, rose to a bare, +round point of gray rock, a landmark, a dome-shaped tower where the gods +of that wild region might have kept their vigil. + +Long indeed did it take us to climb up the bear trail to where it +crossed the saddle and went down on the other side into a canyon so deep +and wild that it was purple. This saddle was really a remarkable +place--a natural trail and outlet and escape for bears traveling from +one canyon to another. Our bear tracks showed fresh, and we saw where +they led down a steep, long, dark aisle between pines and spruces to a +dense black thicket below. The saddle was about twenty feet wide, and on +each side of it rose steep rocks, affording most effective stands for a +hunter to wait and watch. + +We rested then, and listened. There was only a little wind, and often +it fooled us. It sounded like the baying of hounds, and now like the +hallooing of men, and then like the distant peal of a horn. By and bye +Copple said he heard the hounds. I could not be sure. Soon we indeed +heard the deep-sounding, wild bay of Old Dan, the course, sharp, ringing +bay of Old Tom, and then, less clear, the chorus from the other hounds. +Edd had started them on a trail up this magnificent canyon at our feet. +After a while we heard Edd's yell, far away, but clear: "Hi! Hi!" We +could see a part of the thicket, shaggy and red and gold; and a mile or +more of the opposite wall of the canyon. No rougher, wilder place could +have been imagined than this steep slope of bluffs, ledges, benches, all +matted with brush, and spotted with pines. Holes and caves and cracks +showed, and yellow blank walls, and bronze points, and green slopes, and +weathered slides. + +Soon the baying of the hounds appeared to pass below and beyond us, up +the canyon to our right, a circumstance that worried Copple. "Let's go +farther up," he kept saying. But I was loath to leave that splendid +stand. The baying of the hounds appeared to swing round closer under us; +to ring, to swell, to thicken until it was a continuous and melodious, +wild, echoing roar. The narrowing walls of the canyon threw the echoes +back and forth. + +Presently I espied moving dots, one blue, one brown, on the opposite +slope. They were Haught and his son Edd slowly and laboriously climbing +up the steep bluff. How like snails they climbed! Theirs was indeed a +task. A yell pealed out now and then, and though it seemed to come from +an entirely different direction it surely must have come from the +Haughts. Presently some one high on the rim answered with like yells. +The chase was growing hotter. + +"They've got a bear up somewhere," cried Copple, excitedly. And I +agreed with him. + +Then we were startled by the sharp crack of a rifle from the rim. + +"The ball's open! Get your pardners, boys," exclaimed Copple, with +animation. + +"Ben, wasn't that a.30 Gov't?" I asked. + +"Sure was," he replied. "Must have been R.C. openin' up. Now look +sharp!" + +I gazed everywhere, growing more excited and thrilled. Another shot from +above, farther off and from a different rifle, augmented our stirring +expectation. + +Copple left our stand and ran up over the ridge, and then down under and +along the base of a rock wall. I had all I could do to keep up with him. +We got perhaps a hundred yards when we heard the spang of Haught's.30 +Gov't. Following this his big, hoarse voice bawled out: "He's goin' to +the left--to the left!" That sent us right about face, to climbing, +scrambling, running and plunging back to our first stand at the saddle, +where we arrived breathless and eager. + +Edd was climbing higher up, evidently to reach the level top of the +bluff above, and Haught was working farther up the canyon, climbing a +little. Copple yelled with all his might: "Where's the bear?" + +"Bar everywhar!" pealed back Haught's stentorian voice. How the echoes +clapped! + +Just then Copple electrified me with a wild shout. "_Wehow_! I see +him.... What a whopper!" He threw up his rifle: +_spang_--_spang_--_spang_--_spang_--_spang_. + +His aim was across the canyon. I heard his bullets strike. I strained my +eyes in flashing gaze everywhere. "Where? Where?" I cried, wildly. + +"There!" shouted Copple, keenly, and he pointed across the canyon. "He's +goin' over the bench--above Edd.... Now he's out of sight. Watch just +over Edd. He'll cross that bench, go round the head of the little +canyon, an' come out on the other side, under the bare bluff.... Watch +sharp-right by that big spruce with the dead top.... He's a grizzly an' +as big as a horse". + +I looked until my eyes hurt. All I said was: "Ben, you saw game first +to-day". Suddenly a large, dark brown object, furry and grizzled, huge +and round, moved out of the shadow under the spruce and turned to go +along the edge in the open sunlight. + +"Oh! look at him!" I yelled. A strong, hot gust of blood ran all over me +and I thrilled till I shook. When I aimed at the bear I could see him +through the circle of my peep sight, but when I moved the bead of the +front sight upon him it almost covered him up. The distance was +far--more than a thousand yards--over half a mile--we calculated +afterward. But I tried to draw a bead on the big, wagging brown shape +and fired till my rifle was empty. + +Meanwhile Copple had reloaded. "You watch while I shoot," he said. "Tell +me where I'm hittin'." + +Wonderful was it to see how swiftly he could aim and shoot. I saw a puff +of dust. "Low, Ben!" Spang rang his rifle. "High!" Again he shot, wide +this time. He emptied his magazine. "Smoke him now!" he shouted, +gleefully. "I'll watch while you shoot." + +"It's too far, Ben," I replied, as I jammed the last shell in the +receiver. + +"No--no. It's only we don't hold right. Aim a little coarse," said +Copple. "Gee, ain't he some bear! 'No scared tall' as the Jap says.... +He's one of the old sheep-killers. He'll weigh half a ton. Smoke him +now!" + +My excitement was intense. It seemed, however, I was most consumed with +admiration for that grizzly. Not in the least was he afraid. He walked +along the rough places, trotted along the ledges, and here and there he +halted to gaze below him. I waited for one of these halts, aimed a +trifle high, and fired. The grizzly made a quick, angry movement and +then jumped up on a ledge. He jumped like a rabbit. + +"You hit close that time," yelled Ben. "Hold the same way--a little +coarser." + +My next bullet struck a puff from rock above the bear, and my third, +hitting just in front of him, as he was on a yellow ledge, covered him +with dust. He reared, and wheeling, sheered back and down the step he +had mounted, and disappeared in a clump of brush. I shot into that. We +heard my bullet crack the twigs. But it routed him out, and then my last +shot hit far under him. + +Copple circled his mouth with his hands and bellowed to the Haughts: +"Climb! Climb! Hurry! Hurry! He's just above you--under that bluff." + +The Haughts heard, and evidently tried to do all in their power, but +they moved like snails. Then Copple fired five more shots, quick, yet +deliberate, and he got through before I had reloaded; and as I began my +third magazine Copple was so swift in reloading that his first shot +mingled with my second. How we made the welkin ring! Wild yells pealed +down from the rim. Somewhere from the purple depths below Nielsen's +giant's voice rolled up. The Haughts opposite answered with their deep, +hoarse yells. Old Dan and Old Tom bayed like distant thunder. The young +hounds let out a string of sharp, keen yelps. Copple added his Indian +cry, high-pitched and wild, to the pandemonium. But I could not shoot +and screech at one and the same time. + +"Hurry, Ben," I said, as I finished my third set of five shots, the +last shot of which was my best and knocked dirt in the face of the +grizzly. + +Again he reared. This time he appeared to locate our direction. Above +the bedlam of yells and bays and yelps and echoes I imagined I heard the +grizzly roar. He was now getting farther along the base of the bluff, +and I saw that he would escape us. My rifle barrel was hot as fire. My +fingers were all thumbs. I jammed a shell into the receiver. My last +chance had fled! But Copple's big, brown, swift hands fed shells to his +magazine as ears of corn go to a grinder. He had a way of poking the +base of a shell straight down into the receiver and making it snap +forward and down. Then he fired five more shots as swiftly as he had +reloaded. Some of these hit close to our quarry. The old grizzly slowed +up, and looked across, and wagged his huge head. + +"My gun's on fire all right," said Copple, grimly, as he loaded still +more rapidly. Carefully he aimed and pulled trigger. The grizzly gave a +spasmodic jerk as if stung and suddenly he made a prodigious leap off a +ledge, down into a patch of brush, where he threshed like a lassoed +elephant. + +"Ben, you hit him!" I yelled, excitedly. + +"Only made him mad. He's not hurt.... See, he's up again.... Will you +look at that!" + +The grizzly appeared to roll out of the brush, and like a huge furry +ball of brown, he bounced down the thicketed slope to an open slide +where he unrolled, and stretched into a run. Copple got two more shots +before he was out of sight. + +"Gone!" ejaculated Copple. "An' we never fetched him!... He ain't hurt. +Did you see him pile down an' roll off that slope?... Let's see. I got +twenty-three shots at him. How many had you?" + +"I had fifteen." + +"Say, it was some fun, wasn't it--smokin' him along there? But we ought +to have fetched the old sheep-killer.... Wonder what's happened to the +other fellows." + +We looked about us. Not improbably the exciting moments had been few in +number, yet they seemed long indeed. The Haughts had gotten to the top +of the bluff, and were tearing through the brush toward the point Copple +had designated. They reached it too late. + +"Where is he?" yelled Edd. + +"Gone!" boomed Copple. "Runnin' down the canyon. Call the dogs an' go +down after him." + +When the Haughts came out into the open upon that bench one of the pups +and the spotted hound, Rock, were with them. Old Dan and old Tom were +baying up at the head of the canyon, and Sue could be heard yelping +somewhere else. Bear trails seemingly were abundant near our +whereabouts. Presently the Haughts disappeared at the back of the bench +where the old grizzly had gone down, and evidently they put the two +hounds on his trail. + +"That grizzly will climb over round the lower end of this ridge," +declared Copple. "We want to be there." + +So we hurriedly left our stand, and taking to the South side of the +ridge, we ran and walked and climbed and plunged down along the slope. +Keeping up with Copple on foot was harder than riding after Edd and +George. When soon we reached a manzanita thicket I could no longer keep +Copple in sight. He was so powerful that he just crashed through, but I +had to worm my way, and walk over the tops of the bushes, like a +tight-rope performer. Of all strong, thick, spiky brush manzanita was +the worst. + +In half an hour I joined Copple at the point under the dome-topped end +of the ridge, only to hear the hounds apparently working back up the +canyon. There was nothing for us to do but return to our stand at the +saddle. Copple hurried faster than ever. But I had begun to tire and I +could not keep up with him. But as I had no wild cravings to meet that +old grizzly face to face all by myself in a manzanita thicket I did +manage by desperate efforts to keep the Indian in sight. When I reached +our stand I was wet and exhausted. After the hot, stifling, dusty glare +of the yellow slope and the burning of the manzanita brush, the cool +shade was a welcome change. + +Somewhere all the hounds were baying. Not for some time could we locate +the Haughts. Finally with the aid of my glass we discovered them perched +high upon the bluff above where our grizzly had gone round. It appeared +that Edd was pointing across the canyon and his father was manifesting a +keen interest. We did not need the glass then to tell that they saw a +bear. Both leveled their rifles and fired, apparently across the canyon. +Then they stood like statues. + +"I'll go down into the thicket," said Copple. "Maybe I can get a shot. +An' anyway I want to see our grizzly's tracks." With that he started +down, and once on the steep bear trail he slid rather than walked, and +soon was out of my sight. After that I heard him crashing through +thicket and brush. Soon this sound ceased. The hounds, too, had quit +baying and the wind had lulled. Not a rustle of a leaf! All the hunters +were likewise silent. I enjoyed a lonely hour there watching and +listening, not however without apprehensions of a bear coming along. +Certain I was that this canyon, which I christened Bear Canyon, had been +full of bears. + +At length I espied Copple down on the edge of the opposite slope. The +way he toiled along proved how rough was the going. I watched him +through my glasses, and was again impressed with the strange difference +between the semblance of distance and the reality. Every few steps +Copple would halt to rest. He had to hold on to the brush and in the +bare places where he could not reach a bush he had to dig his heels into +the earth to keep from sliding down. In time he ascended to the place +where our grizzly had rolled down, and from there he yelled up to the +Haughts, high above him. They answered, and soon disappeared on the far +side of the bluff. Copple also disappeared going round under the wall of +yellow rock. Perhaps in fifteen minutes I heard them yell, and then a +wild clamor of the hounds. Some of the pack had been put on the trail of +our grizzly; but gradually the sound grew farther away. + +This was too much for me. I decided to go down into the canyon. +Forthwith I started. It was easy to go down! As a matter of fact it was +hard not to slide down like a streak. That long, dark, narrow aisle +between the spruces had no charm for me anyway. Suppose I should meet a +bear coming up as I was sliding down! I sheered off and left the trail, +and also Copple's tracks. This was a blunder. I came out into more open +slope, but steeper, and harder to cling on. Ledges cropped out, cliffs +and ravines obstructed my passage and trees were not close enough to +help me much. Some long slopes of dark, mossy, bare earth I actually ran +down, trusting to light swift steps rather than slow careful ones. It +was exhilarating, that descent under the shady spruces. The lower down I +got the smaller and more numerous the trees. I could see where they left +off to the dense thicket that choked the lower part of the v-shaped +canyon. And I was amazed at the size and density of that jungle of scrub +oaks, maples and aspens. From above the color was a blaze of scarlet and +gold and green, with bronze tinge. + +Presently I crossed a fresh bear track, so fresh that I could see the +dampness of the dark earth, the rolling of little particles, the +springing erect of bent grasses. In some places big sections of earth, a +yard wide had slipped under the feet of this particular bear. He +appeared to be working down. Right then I wanted to go up! But I could +not climb out there. I had to go down. Soon I was under low-spreading, +dense spruces, and I had to hold on desperately to keep from sliding. +All the time naturally I kept a keen lookout for a bear. Every stone and +tree trunk resembled a bear. I decided if I met a grizzly that I would +not annoy him on that slope. I would say: "Nice bear, I won't hurt you!" +Still the situation had some kind of charm. But to claim I was not +frightened would not be strictly truthful. I slid over the trail of that +bear into the trail of another one, and under the last big spruce on +that part of the slope I found a hollow nest of pine needles and leaves, +and if that bed was not still warm then my imagination lent considerable +to the moment. + +Beyond this began the edge of the thicket. It was small pine at first, +so close together that I had to squeeze through, and as dark as +twilight. The ground was a slant of brown pine needles, so slippery, +that if I could not have held on to trees and branches I never would +have kept my feet. In this dark strip I had more than apprehensions. +What a comfortable place to encounter an outraged or wounded grizzly +bear! The manzanita thicket was preferable. But as Providence would have +it I did not encounter one. + +Soon I worked or wormed out of the pines into the thicket of scrub oaks, +maples and aspens. The change was welcome. Not only did the slope +lengthen out, but the light changed from gloom to gold. There was half a +foot of scarlet, gold, bronze, red and purple leaves on the ground, and +every step I made I kicked acorns about to rustle and roll. Bear sign +was everywhere, tracks and trails and beds and scratches. I kept going +down, and the farther down I got the lighter it grew, and more +approaching a level. One glade was strangely luminous and beautiful with +a blending of gold and purple light made by the sun shining through the +leaves overhead down upon the carpet of leaves on the ground. Then I +came into a glade that reminded me of Kipling's moonlight dance of the +wild elephants. Here the leaves and fern were rolled and matted flat, +smooth as if done by a huge roller. Bears and bears had lolled and slept +and played there. A little below this glade was a place, shady and cool, +where a seep of water came from under a bank. It looked like a herd of +cattle had stamped the earth, only the tracks were bear tracks. Little +ones no longer than a child's hand, and larger, up to huge tracks a foot +long and almost as wide. Many were old, but some were fresh. This little +spot smelled of bear so strongly that it reminded me of the bear pen in +the Bronx Park Zoological Garden. I had been keen for sight of bear +trails and scent of bear fur, but this was a little too much. I thought +it was too much because the place was lonely and dark and absolutely +silent. I went on down to the gully that ran down the middle of the +canyon. It was more open here. The sun got through, and there were some +big pines. + +I could see the bluff that the Haughts had climbed so laboriously, and +now I understood why they had been so slow. It was straight up, brush +and jumbled rock, and two hundred feet over my head. Somewhere above +that bluff was the bluff where our bear had run along. + +I rested and listened for the dogs. There was no wind to deceive me, but +I imagined I heard dogs everywhere. It seemed unwise for me to go on +down the canyon, for if I did not meet the men I would find myself lost. +As it was I would have my troubles climbing out. + +I chose a part of the thicket some distance above where I had come down, +hoping to find it more open, if not less steep, and not so vastly +inhabited with bears. Lo and behold it was worse! It was thicker, +darker, wilder, steeper and there was, if possible, actually more bear +sign. I had to pull myself up by holding to the trees and branches. I +had to rest every few steps. I had to watch and listen all the time. +Half-way up the trunks of the aspens and oaks and maples were all bent +down-hill. They curved out and down before the rest of the tree stood +upright. And all the brush was flat, bending down hill, and absolutely +almost impassable. This feature of tree and brush was of course caused +by the weight of snow in winter. It would have been more interesting if +I had not been so anxious to get up. I grew hotter and wetter than I had +been in the manzanitas. Moreover, what with the labor and worry and +exhaustion, my apprehensions had increased. They increased until I had +to confess that I was scared. Once I heard a rustle and pad on the +leaves somewhere below. That made matters worse. Surely I would meet a +bear. I would meet him coming down-hill! And I must never shoot a bear +coming down-hill! Buffalo Jones had cautioned me on that score, so had +Scott Teague, the bear hunter of Colorado, and so had Haught. "Don't +never shoot no ole bar comin' down hill, 'cause if you do he'll just +roll up an' pile down on you!" + +I climbed until my tongue hung out and my heart was likely to burst. +Then when I had to straddle a tree to keep from sliding down I got +desperate and mad and hoped an old grizzly would happen along to make an +end to my misery. + +It took me an hour to climb up that part of the slope which constituted +the thicket of oak, maple and aspen. It was half-past three when finally +I reached the saddle where we had shot at the grizzly. I rested as long +as I dared. I had still a long way to go up that ridge to the rim, and +how did I know whether or not I could surmount it. + +However, a good rest helped to revive strength and spirit. Then I +started. Once above the saddle I was out clear in the open, high above +the canyons, and the vast basin still farther below, yet far indeed +under the pine-fringed rim above. This climb was all over stone. The +ridge was narrow-crested, yellow, splintered rock, with a few dwarf +pines and spruces and an occasional bunch of manzanita. I did not hear a +sound that I did not make myself. Whatever had become of the hounds, and +the other hunters? The higher I climbed the more I liked it. After an +hour I was sure that I could reach the rim by this route, and of course +that stimulated me. To make sure, and allay doubt, I sat down on a high +backbone of bare rock and studied the heave and bulge of ridge above me. +Using my glasses I made sure that I could climb out. It would be a task +equal to those of lion-hunting days with Jones, and it made me happy to +realize that despite the intervening ten years I was still equal to the +task. + +Once assured of this I grew acute to the sensations of the hour. This +was one of my especial joys of the open--to be alone high on some +promontory, above wild and beautiful scenery. The sun was still an hour +from setting, and it had begun to soften, to grow intense, and more +golden. There were clouds and lights that promised a magnificent sunset. + +So I climbed on. When I stopped to rest I would shove a stone loose and +watch it heave and slide, and leap out and hurtle down, to make the +dust fly, and crash into the thickets, and eventually start an avalanche +that would roar down into the canyon. + +The Tonto Basin seemed a vast bowl of rolling, rough, black ridges and +canyons, green and dark and yellow, with the great mountain ranges +enclosing it to south and west. The black-fringed promontories of the +rim, bold and rugged, leagues apart, stood out over the void. The colors +of autumn gleamed under the cliffs, everywhere patches of gold and long +slants of green and spots of scarlet and clefts of purple. + +The last benches of that ridge taxed my waning strength. I had to step +up, climb up, pull myself up, by hand and knee and body. My rifle grew +to weigh a ton. My cartridge belt was a burden of lead around my waist. +If I had been hot and wet below in the thicket I wondered what I grew on +the last steps of this ridge. Yet even the toil and the pain held a keen +pleasure. I did not analyze my feelings then, but it was good to be +there. + +The rim-rock came out to a point above me, seeming unscalable, all grown +over with brush and lichen, and stunted spruce. But by hauling myself +up, and crawling here, and winding under bridges of rock there, and +holding to the brush, at last, panting and spent, I reached the top. + +I was ready to drop on the mats of pine needles and lie there, +unutterably grateful for rest, when I heard Old Tom baying, deep and +ringing and close. He seemed right under the rim on the side of the +ridge opposite to where I had climbed. I looked around. There was +George's horse tied to a pine, and farther on my own horse Stockings. + +Then I walked to the rim and looked down into the gold and scarlet +thicket. Actually it seemed to me then, and always will seem, that the +first object I clearly distinguished was a big black bear standing in +an open aisle at the upper reach of the thicket close to the cliff. He +shone black as shiny coal. He was looking down into the thicket, as if +listening to the baying hound. + +I could not repress an exclamation of surprise and thrilling excitement, +and I uttered it as I raised my rifle. Just the instant I saw his +shining fur through the circle of my rear sight he heard me and jumped, +and my bullet missed him. Like a black flash he was gone around a corner +of gray ledge. + +"Well!" I ejaculated, suddenly weak. "After all this long day--to get a +chance like that--and miss!" + +All that seemed left of that long day was the sunset, out of which I +could not be cheated by blunders or bad luck. Westward a glorious golden +ball blazed over the rim. Above that shone an intense belt of +color--Coleridge's yellow lightning--and it extended to a bank of cloud +that seemed transparent purple, and above all this flowed a sea of +purest blue sky with fleecy sails of pink and white and rose, +exquisitely flecked with gold. + +Lost indeed was I to weariness and time until the gorgeous +transformation at last ended in dull gray. I walked along the rim, back +to where I had tied my horse. He saw me and whinnied before I located +the spot. I just about had strength enough left to straddle him. And +presently through the twilight shadows I caught a bright glimmer of our +camp-fire. Supper was ready; Takahashi grinned his concern away; all the +men were waiting for me; and like the Ancient Mariner I told my tale. As +I sat to a bountiful repast regaling myself, the talk of my companions +seemed absolutely satisfying. + +George Haught, on a stand at the apex of the canyon, had heard and seen +a big brown bear climbing up through the thicket, and he had overshot +and missed. R.C. had espied a big black bear walking a slide some four +hundred yards down the canyon slope, and forgetting that he had a heavy +close-range shell in his rifle instead of one of high trajectory, he had +aimed accordingly, to undershoot half a foot and thus lose his +opportunity. Nielsen had been lost most of the day. It seemed everywhere +he heard yells and bays down in the canyon, and once he had heard a loud +rattling crash of a heavy bear tearing through the thicket. Edd told of +the fearful climb he and his father had made, how they had shot at the +grizzly a long way off, how funny another bear had rolled around in his +bed across the canyon. But the hounds got too tired to hold the trails +late in the day. And lastly Edd said: "When you an' Ben were smokin' the +grizzly I could hear the bullets hit close above us, an' I was sure +scared stiff for fear you'd roll him down on us. But father wasn't +scared. He said, 'let the old Jasper roll down! We'll assassinate him!'" + +When the old bear hunter began to tell his part in the day's adventures +my pleasure was tinglingly keen and nothing was wanting on the moment +except that my boy Romer was not there to hear. + +"Wal, shore it was an old bar day," said Haught, with quaint +satisfaction. His blue shirt, ragged and torn and black from brush, +surely attested to the truth of his words. "All told we seen five bars. +Two blacks, two browns an' the old Jasper. Some of them big fellars, +too. But we missed seein' the boss bar of this canyon. When Old Dan +opened up first off I wanted Edd to climb thet bluff. But Edd kept goin' +an' we lost our chance. Fer pretty soon we heard a bustin' of the brush. +My, but thet bar was rockin' her off. He knocked the brush like a wild +steer, an' he ran past us close--not a hundred yards. I never heard a +heavier bar. But we couldn't see him. Then Edd started up, an' thet +bluff was a wolf of a place. We was half up when I seen the grizzly thet +you an' Ben smoked afterward. He was far off, but Edd an' I lammed a +couple after him jest for luck. One of the pups was nippin' his heels. +Think it was Big Foot.... Wal, thet was all of thet. We plumb busted +ourselves gettin' on top of the bench to head off your bar. Only we +hadn't time. Then we worried along around to the top of thet higher +bluff an' there I was so played-out I thought my day had come. We kept +our eyes peeled, an' pretty soon I spied a big brown bar actin' queer in +an open spot across the canyon. Edd seen him too, an' we argued about +what thet bar was doin'. He lay in a small open place at the foot of a +spruce. He wagged his head slow an' he made as if to roll over, an' he +stretched his paws, an' acted shore queer. Edd said: 'Thet bar's +crippled. He's been shot by one of the boys, an' he's tryin' to get up.' +But I shore didn't exactly agree with Edd. So I was for watchin' him +some more. He looked like a sick bar--raisin' his head so slow an' +droppin' it so slow an' sort of twistin' his body. He looked like his +back had been broke an' he was tryin' to get up, but somehow I couldn't +believe thet. Then he lay still an' Edd swore he was dead. Shore I got +almost to believin' thet myself, when he waked up. An' then the old +scoundrel slid around lazy like a torn cat by the fire, and sort of +rolled on his back an' stretched. Next he slapped at himself with his +paws. If he wasn't sick he was shore actin' queer with thet canyon full +of crackin' guns an' bayin' hounds an' yellin' men. I begun to get +suspicious. Shore he must be a dyin' bear. So I said to Edd: 'Let's bast +him a couple just fer luck.' Wal, when we shot up jumped thet sick bar +quicker'n you could wink. An' he piled into the thicket while I was +goin' down after another shell.... It shore was funny. Thet old Jasper +never heard the racket, an' if he heard it he didn't care. He had a bed +in thet sunny spot an' he was foolin' around, playin' with himself like +a kitten. Playin'! An' Edd reckoned he was dyin' an' I come shore near +bein' fooled. The old Jasper! We'll assassinate him fer thet!" + + +VIII + +Five more long arduous days we put in chasing bears under the rim from +Pyle's Canyon to Verde Canyon. In all we started over a dozen bears. But +I was inclined to think that we chased the same bears over and over from +one canyon to another. The boys got a good many long-range shots, which, +however, apparently did no damage. But as for me, the harder and farther +I tramped and the longer I watched and waited the less opportunity had I +to shoot a bear. + +This circumstance weighed heavily upon the spirits of my comrades. They +wore their boots out, as well as the feet of the hounds, trying to chase +a bear somewhere near me. And wherever I stayed or went there was the +place the bears avoided. Edd and Neilsen lost flesh in this daily toil. +Haught had gloomy moments. But as for me the daily ten-or fifteen-mile +grind up and down the steep craggy slopes had at last trained me back to +my former vigorous condition, and I was happy. No one knew it, not even +R.C., but the fact was I really did not care in the least whether I shot +a bear or not. Bears were incidental to my hunting trip. I had not a +little secret glee over the praise accorded me by Copple and Haught and +Nielsen, who all thought that the way I persevered was remarkable. They +would have broken their necks to get me a bear. At times R.C. when he +was tired fell victim to discouragement and he would make some caustic +remark: "I don't know about you. I've a hunch you like to pack a rifle +because it's heavy. And you go dreaming along! Sometime a bear will rise +up and swipe you one!" + +Takahashi passed from concern to grief over what he considered my bad +luck: "My goodnish! No see bear to-day?... Maybe more better luck +to-morrow." If I could have had some of Takahashi's luck I would +scarcely have needed to leave camp. He borrowed Nielsen's 30-40 rifle +and went hunting without ever having shot it. He rode the little +buckskin mustang, that, remarkable to state, had not yet thrown him or +kicked him. And on that occasion he led the mustang back to camp with a +fine two-point buck on the saddle. "Camp need fresh meat," said the Jap, +with his broad smile. "I go hunt. Ride along old road. Soon nice fat +deer walk out from bush. Twenty steps away--maybe. I get off. I no want +kill deer so close, so I walk on him. Deer he no scared. He jump off few +steps--stick up his ears--look at horse all same like he thought him +deer too. I no aim gun from shoulder. I just shoot. No good. Deer he +run. I aim then--way front of him--shoot--deer he drop right down +dead.... Aw, easy to get deer!" + +I would have given a great deal to have been able to describe Haught's +face when the Jap finished his story of killing that deer. But such feat +was beyond human ingenuity. "Wal," ejaculated the hunter, "in all my +days raslin' round with fools packin' guns I never seen the likes of +thet. No wonder the Japs licked the Russians!" This achievement of +Takahashi's led me to suggest his hunting bear with us. "Aw sure--I kill +bear too," he said. Takahashi outwalked and outclimbed us all. He never +made detours. He climbed straight up or descended straight down. Copple +and Edd were compelled to see him take the lead and keep it. What a +wonderful climber! What a picture the sturdy little brown man made, +carrying a rifle longer than himself, agile and sure-footed as a goat, +perfectly at home in the depths or on the heights! I took occasion to +ask Takahashi if he had been used to mountain climbing in Japan. "Aw +sure. I have father own whole mountain more bigger here. I climb +high--saw wood. Leetle boy so big." And he held his hand about a foot +from the ground. Thus for me every day brought out some further +interesting or humorous or remarkable feature pertaining to Takahashi. + +The next day added to the discouragement of my party. We drove Verde +Canyon and ran the dogs into a nest of steel-traps. Big Foot was caught +in one, and only the remarkable size and strength of his leg saved it +from being broken. Nielsen found a poor, miserable, little fox in a +trap, where it had been for days, and was nearly dead. Edd found a dead +skunk in another. He had to call the hounds in. We returned to camp. +That night was really the only cheerless one the men spent around the +fire. They did not know what to do. Manifestly with trappers in a +locality there could be no more bear chasing. Disappointment perched +upon the countenances of the Haughts and Copple and Nielsen. I let them +all have their say. Finally Haught spoke up: "Wal, fellars, I'm +figgerin' hard an' I reckon here's my stand. We jest naturally have to +get Doc an' his brother a bear apiece. Shore I expected we'd get 'em a +couple. Now, them traps we seen are all small. We didn't run across no +bear traps. An' I reckon we can risk the dogs. We'll shore go back an' +drive Verde Canyon. We can't do no worse than break a leg for a dog. I'd +hate to see thet happen to Old Dan or Tom. But we'll take a chance." + +After that there fell a moment's silence. I could see from Edd's face +what a serious predicament this was. Nothing was plainer than his +fondness for the hounds. Finally he said: "Sure. We'll take a chance." +Their devotion to my interest, their simple earnestness, warmed me to +them. But not for all the bears under the rim would I have been +wittingly to blame for Old Dan or Old Tom breaking a leg. + +"Men, I've got a better plan," I said. "We'll let the bears here rest +for a spell. Supplies are about gone. Let's go back to Beaver Dam camp +for a week or so. Rest up the hounds. Maybe we'll have a storm and a +cold snap that will improve conditions. Then we'll come back here. I'll +send Haught down to buy off the trappers. I'll pay them to spring their +traps and let us have our hunt without risk of the hounds." + +Instantly the men brightened. The insurmountable obstacles seemed to +melt away. Only Haught demurred a little at additional and unreasonable +expense for me. But I cheered him over this hindrance, and the last part +of that evening round the camp-fire was very pleasant. + +The following morning we broke camp, and all rode off, except Haught and +his son George, who remained to hunt a strayed burro. "Reckon thet lion +eat him. My best burro. He was the one your boy was always playin' with. +I'm goin' to assassinate thet lion." + +On the way back to Beaver Dam camp I happened to be near Takahashi when +he dismounted to shoot at a squirrel. Returning to get back in the +saddle the Jap forgot to approach the mustang from the proper side. +There was a scuffle between Takahashi and the mustang as to which of +them should possess the bridle. The Jap lost this argument. Edd had to +repair the broken bridle. I watched Takahashi and could see that he did +not like the mustang any better than the mustang liked him. Soon the +struggle for supremacy would take place between this ill assorted rider +and horse. I rather felt inclined to favor the latter; nevertheless it +was only fair to Takahashi to admit that his buckskin-colored mustang +had some mean traits. + +In due time I arrived at our permanent camp, to be the last to get in. +Lee and his father welcomed us as familiar faces in a strange land. As I +dismounted I heard heavy thuds and cracks accompanied by fierce +utterances in a foreign tongue. These sounds issued from the corral. + +"I'll bet the Jap got what was coming to him," declared Lee. + +We all ran toward the corral. A bunch of horses obstructed our view, and +we could not see Takahashi until we ran round to the other side. The Jap +had the buckskin mustang up in a corner and was vigorously whacking him +with a huge pole. Not by any means was the mustang docile. Like a mule, +he kicked. "Hey George," yelled Lee, "don't kill him! What's the +matter?" + +Takahashi slammed the mustang one parting blow, which broke the club, +and then he turned to us. We could see from dust and dirt on his person +that he had lately been in close relation to the earth. Takahashi's face +was pale except for a great red lump on his jaw. The Jap was terribly +angry. He seemed hurt, too. With a shaking hand he pointed to the bruise +on his jaw. + +"Look what he do!" exclaimed Takahashi. "He throw me off!... He kick me +awful hard! I kill him sure next time." + +Lee and I managed to conceal our mirth until our irate cook had gotten +out of hearing. "Look--what--he--do!" choked Lee, imitating Takahashi. +Then Lee broke out and roared. I had to join him. I laughed till I +cried. My family and friends severely criticise this primitive trait of +mine, but I can not help it. Later I went to Takahashi and asked to +examine his jaw, fearing it might have been broken. This fear of mine, +however, was unfounded. Moreover the Jap had recovered from his pain and +anger. "More better now," he said, with a grin. "Maybe my fault anyhow." + +Next day we rested, and the following morning was so fine and clear and +frosty that we decided to go hunting. We rode east on the way to See +Lake through beautiful deep forest. + +I saw a deer trotting away into the woods. I jumped off, jerked out my +gun, and ran hard, hoping to see him in an opening. Lo! I jumped a herd +of six more deer, some of them bucks. They plunged everywhere. I tried +frantically to get my sights on one. All I could aim at was bobbing +ears. I shot twice, and of course missed. R.C. shot four times, once at +a running buck, and three at a small deer that he said was flying! + +Here Copple and Haught caught up with us. We went on, and turned off the +road on the blazed trail to See Lake. It was pretty open forest, oaks +and scattered pines, and a few spruce. The first park we came to was a +flat grassy open, with places where deer licked the bare earth. Copple +left several pounds of salt in these spots. R.C. and I went up to the +upper end where he had seen deer before. No deer this day! But saw three +turkeys, one an old gobbler. We lost sight of them. + +Then Copple and R.C. went one way and Haught and I another. We went +clear to the rim, and then circled around, and eventually met R.C. and +Copple. Together we started to return. Going down a little draw we found +water, and R.C. saw where a rock had been splashed with water and was +still wet. Then I saw a turkey track upon this rock. We slipped up the +slope, with me in the lead. As I came out on top, I saw five big +gobblers feeding. Strange how these game birds thrilled me! One saw me +and started to run. Like a streak! Another edged away into pines. Then I +espied one with his head and neck behind a tree and he was scratching +away in the pine needles. I could not see much of him, but that little +was not running, so I drew down upon him, tried to aim fine, and fired. +He leaped up with a roar of wings, sending the dust and needles flying. +Then he dropped back, and like a flash darted into a thicket. + +Another flew straight out of the glade. Another ran like an ostrich in +the same direction. I tried to get the sights on him. In vain! + +R.C. and Copple chased these two speeding turkeys, and Haught and I went +the other way. We could find no trace of ours. And we returned to our +horses. + +Presently we heard shots. One--two--three--pause--then several more. And +finally more, to a total number of fifteen. I could not stand that and I +had to hurry back into the woods. I saw one old gobbler running wildly +around as if lost, but I did not shoot at him because he seemed to be in +line with the direction which R.C. and Copple had taken. I should have +run after him until he went some other way. + +I could not find the hunters, and returned to our resting place, which +they had reached ahead of me. They had a turkey each, gobblers about two +years old Copple said. + +R.C. told an interesting story of how he had run in the direction the +two turkeys had taken, and suddenly flushed thirty or forty more, some +big old gobblers, but mostly young. They scattered and ran. He followed +as fast as he could, shooting a few times. Copple could not keep up with +him, but evidently had a few shots himself. R.C. chased most of the +flock across several small canyons, till he came to a deep canyon. Here +he hoped to make a killing when the turkeys ran up the far slope. But +they flew across! And he heard them clucking over there. He crossed, and +went on cautiously. Once he saw three turkey heads sticking above a log. +Wise old gobblers! They protected their bodies while they watched for +him. He tried to get sidewise to them but they ran off. Then he followed +until once more he heard clucking. + +Here he sat down, just beyond the edge of a canyon, and began to call +with his turkey wing. It thrilled him to hear his calls answered on all +sides. Here was a wonderful opportunity. He realized that the turkeys +were mostly young and scattered, and frightened, and wanted to come +together. He kept calling, and as they neared him on all sides he felt +something more than the zest of hunting. Suddenly Copple began to shoot. +Spang! Spang! Spang! R.C. saw the dust fly under one turkey. He heard +the bullet glance. The next shot killed a turkey. Then R.C. yelled that +he was no turkey! Then of that scattering flock he managed to knock over +one for himself. + +Copple had been deceived by the call of an amateur. That flattered R.C., +but he was keenly disappointed that Copple had spoiled the situation. + +During the day the blue sky was covered by thin flying clouds that +gradually thickened and darkened. The wind grew keener and colder, and +veered to the southwest. We all said storm. There was no sunset Darker +clouds rolled up, obliterating the few stars. + +We went to bed. Long after that I heard the swell and roar and crash and +lull of the wind in the pines, a sound I had learned to love in Buckskin +Forest with Buffalo Jones. At last I fell asleep. + +Sometime in the night I awoke. A fine rain was pattering on the tent. +It grew stronger. After a while I went to sleep again. Upon awakening I +found that the storm had struck with a vengeance. It was dull gray +daylight, foggy, cold, windy, with rain and snow. + +I got up, built a fire, puttered around the tents to loosen the ground +ropes, and found that it was nipping cold. My fingers ached. The storm +increased, and then we fully appreciated the tent with stove. The rain +roared on the tent roof, and all morning the wind increased, and the air +grew colder. I hoped it would turn to snow. + +Soon indeed we were storm bound. On the third day the wind reached a +very high velocity. The roar in the pines was stupendous. Many times I +heard the dull crash of a falling tree. With the ground saturated by the +copious rain, and the fury of the storm blast, a great many trees were +felled. That night it rained all night, not so hard, but steadily, now +low, now vigorously. After morning snow began to fall. But it did not +lay long. After a while it changed to sleet. At times the dark, +lowering, scurrying clouds broke to emit a flare of sunshine and to show +a patch of blue. These last however were soon obscured by the scudding +gray pall. Every now and then a little shower of rain or sleet pattered +on the tents. We looked for a clearing up. + +That night about eight o'clock the clouds vanished and stars shone. In +the night the wind rose and roared. In the morning all was dark, cloudy, +raw, cold. But the wind had died out, and there were spots of blue +showing. These spots enlarged as the morning advanced, and about nine +the sun, golden and dazzling, beautified the forest. "Bright sunny days +will soon come again!" + +It was good to have hope and belief in that. + +All the horses but Don Carlos weathered the storm in good shape. Don +lost considerable weight. He had never before been left with hobbled +feet to shift for himself in a prolonged storm of rain, sleet and snow. +He had cut himself upon brush, and altogether had fared poorly. He +showed plainly that he had been neglected. Don was the only horse I had +ever known of that did not welcome the wilderness and companionship with +his kind. + +We rested the following day, and on the next we packed and started back +to Dude Creek. It was a cold, raw, bitter day, with a gale from the +north, such a day as I could never have endured had I not become +hardened. As it was I almost enjoyed wind and cold. What a +transformation in the woods! The little lakes were all frozen over; +pines, moss, grass were white with frost. The sear days had come. Not a +leaf showed in the aspen and maple thickets. The scrub oaks were shaggy +and ragged, gray as the rocks. From the rim the slopes looked steely and +dark, thinned out, showing the rocks and slides. + +When we reached our old camp in Barber Shop Canyon we were all glad to +see Haught's lost burro waiting for us there. Not a scratch showed on +the shaggy lop-eared little beast. Haught for once unhobbled a burro and +set it free without a parting kick. Nielsen too had observed this +omission on Haught's part. Nielsen was a desert man and he knew burros. +He said prospectors were inclined to show affection for burros by sundry +cuffs and kicks. And Nielsen told me a story about Haught. It seemed the +bear hunter was noted for that habit of kicking burros. Sometimes he was +in fun and sometimes, when burros were obstinate, he was in earnest. +Upon one occasion a big burro stayed away from camp quite a long +time--long enough to incur Haught's displeasure. He needed the burro and +could not find it, and all he could do was to hunt for it. Upon +returning to camp there stood the big gray burro, lazy and fat, just as +if he had been perfectly well behaved. Haught put a halter on the burro, +using strong language the while, and then he proceeded to exercise his +habit of kicking burros. He kicked this one until its fat belly gave +forth sounds exceedingly like a bass drum. When Haught had ended his +exercise he tied up the burro. Presently a man came running into +Haught's camp. He appeared alarmed. He was wet and panting. Haught +recognized him as a miner from a mine nearby. "Hey Haught," panted the +miner, "hev you seen--your gray burro--thet big one--with white face?" + +"Shore, there he is," replied Haught. "Son of a gun jest rustled home." + +The miner appeared immensely relieved. He looked and looked at the gray +burro as if to make sure it was there, in the solid flesh, a really +tangible object. Then he said: "We was all afeared you'd kick the +stuffin's out of him!... Not an hour ago he was over at the mine, an' he +ate five sticks of dynamite! Five sticks! For Lord's sake handle him +gently!" + +Haught turned pale and suddenly sat down. "Ahuh!" was all he said. But +he had a strange hunted look. And not for a long time did he ever again +kick a burro! + + * * * * * + +Hunting conditions at Dude Creek had changed greatly to our benefit. The +trappers had pulled up stakes and gone to some other section of the +country. There was not a hunting party within fifteen miles of our camp. +Leaves and acorns were all down; trails were soft and easy to travel; no +dust rose on the southern slopes; the days were cold and bright; in +every pocket and ravine there was water for the dogs; from any stand we +could see into the shaggy thickets where before all we could see was a +blaze of color. + +In three days we drove Pyle's Canyon, Dude Creek, and the small +adjoining canyons, chasing in all nine bears, none of which ran anywhere +near R.C. or me. Old Dan gave out and had to rest every other day. So +the gloom again began to settle thick over the hopes of my faithful +friends. Long since, as in 1918, I had given up expectations of bagging +a bear or a buck. For R.C., however, my hopes still held good. At least +I did not give up for him. But he shared somewhat the feelings of the +men. Still he worked harder than ever, abandoning the idea of waiting on +one of the high stands, and took to the slopes under the rim where he +toiled down and up all day long. It pleased me to learn, presently, that +this activity, strenuous as it was, became a source of delight to him. +How different such toil was from waiting and watching on the rim! + +On November first, a bitter cold morning, with ice in the bright air, we +went back to Pyle's Canyon, and four of us went down with Edd and the +hounds. We had several chases, and about the middle of the forenoon I +found myself alone, making tracks for the saddle over-looking Bear +Canyon. Along the south side of the slope, in the still air the sun was +warm, but when I got up onto the saddle, in an exposed place, the wind +soon chilled me through. I would keep my stand until I nearly froze, +then I had to go around to the sunny sheltered side and warm up. The +hounds finally got within hearing again, and eventually appeared to be +in Bear Canyon, toward the mouth. I decided I ought to go round the +ridge on the east side and see if I could hear better. Accordingly I set +off, and the hard going over the sunny slope was just what I needed. +When I reached the end of the ridge, under the great dome, I heard the +hounds below me, somewhat to my left. Running and plowing down through +the brush I gained the edge of the bluff, just in time to see some of +the hounds passing on. They had run a bear through that thicket, and if +I had been there sooner I would have been fortunate. But too late! I +worked around the head of this canyon and across a wide promontory. +Again I heard the hounds right under me. They came nearer, and soon I +heard rolling rocks and cracking brush, which sounds I believed were +made by a bear. After a while I espied Old Tom and Rock working up the +canyon on a trail. Then I was sure I would get a shot. Presently, +however, Old Tom left the trail and started back. Rock came on, climbed +the ridge, and hearing me call he came to me. I went over to the place +where he had climbed out and found an enormous bear track pointing in +the direction the hounds had come. They had back-trailed him. Rock went +back to join Old Tom. Some of the pack were baying at a great rate in +the mouth of the next canyon. But an impassable cliff prevented me from +working around to that point. So I had to address myself to the long +steep climb upward. I had not gone far when I crossed the huge bear +track that Rock and Old Tom had given up. This track was six inches wide +and ten inches long. The bear that had made it had come down this very +morning from over the ridge east of Bear Canyon. I trailed him up this +ridge, over the steepest and roughest and wildest part of it, marveling +at the enormous steps and jumps he made, and at the sagacity which +caused him to choose this route instead of the saddle trail where I had +waited so long. His track led up nearly to the rim and proved how he had +climbed over the most rugged break in the ridge. Indeed he was one of +the wise old scoundrels. When I reached camp I learned that Sue and +several more of the hounds had held a bear for some time in the box of +the canyon just beyond where I had to give up. Edd and Nielsen were +across this canyon, unable to go farther, and then yelled themselves +hoarse, trying to call some of us. I asked Edd if he saw the bear. "Sure +did," replied Edd. "One of them long, lean, hungry cinnamons." I had to +laugh, and told how near I had come to meeting a bear that was short, +fat, and heavy: "One of the old Jasper scoundrels!" + +That night at dark the wind still blew a gale, and seemed more bitterly +cold. We hugged the camp-fire. My eyes smarted from the smoke and my +face grew black. Before I went to bed I toasted myself so thoroughly +that my clothes actually burned me as I lay down. But they heated the +blankets and that made my bed snug and soon I was in the land of dreams. +During the night I awoke. The wind had lulled. The canopy above was +clear, cold, starry, beautiful. When we rolled out the mercury showed +ten above zero. Perhaps looking at the thermometer made us feel colder, +but in any event we would have had to move about to keep warm. I built a +fire and my hands were blocks of ice when I got the blaze stirring. + +That day, so keen and bright, so wonderful with its clarity of +atmosphere and the breath of winter through the pines, promised to be as +exciting as it was beautiful. Maybe this day R.C. would bag a bear! + +When we reached the rim the sunrise was just flushing the purple basin, +flooding with exquisite gold and rose light the slumberous shadows. What +a glorious wilderness to greet the eye at sunrise! I suffered a pang to +realize what men missed--what I had to miss so many wonderful mornings. + +We had made our plan. The hounds had left a bear in the second canyon +east of Dude. Edd started down. Copple and Takahashi followed to hug the +lower slopes. Nielsen and Haught and George held to the rim to ride east +in case the hounds chased a bear that way. And R.C. and I were to try to +climb out and down a thin rock-crested ridge which, so far as Haught +knew, no one had ever been on. + +Looked at from above this ridge was indeed a beautiful and rugged +backbone of rock, sloping from the rim, extending far out and down--a +very narrow knife-edge extended promontory, green with cedar and pine, +yellow and gray with its crags and rocks. A craggy point comparable to +some of those in the Grand Canyon! We had to study a way to get across +the first deep fissures, and eventually descended far under the crest +and climbed back. It was desperately hard work, for we had so little +time. R.C. was to be at the middle of that ridge and I at the end in an +hour. Like Trojans we worked. Some slippery pine-needle slopes we had to +run across, for light quick steps were the only means of safe travel. +And that was not safe! When we surmounted to the crest we found a jumble +of weathered rocks ready to slide down on either side. Slabs, pyramids, +columns, shale, rocks of all shapes except round, lay toppling along the +heaved ridge. It seemed the whole ridge was ready to thunder down into +the abyss. Half a mile down and out from the rim we felt lost, marooned. +But there was something splendidly thrilling in our conquest of that +narrow upflung edge of mountain. Twice R.C. thought we would have to +abandon further progress, but I found ways to go on. How lonely and wild +out there! No foot save an Indian's had ever trod those gray rocks or +brown mats of pine needles. + +Before we reached the dip or saddle where R.C. was to make his stand the +hounds opened up far below. The morning was perfectly still, an unusual +occurrence there along the rim. What wild music! Then Edd's horn pealed +out, ringing melody, a long blast keen and clear, telling us above that +he had started a bear. That made us hurry. We arrived at the head of an +incline leading down to R.C.'s stand. As luck would have it the place +was ideal for a bear, but risky for a hunter. A bear could come four +ways without being seen until he was close enough to kill a man. We +hurried on. At the saddle there was a broad bear trail with several +other trails leading into it. Suddenly R.C. halted me with a warning +finger. "Listen!" + +I heard a faint clear rifle shot. Then another, and a fainter yell. We +stood there and counted eleven more shots. Then the bay of the hounds +seemed to grow closer. We had little time to pick and choose stands. I +had yet to reach the end of the ridge--a task requiring seven-league +boots. But I took time to choose the best possible stand for R.C. and +that was one where a bear approaching from only the east along under the +ridge could surprise him. In bad places like this we always tried to +have our minds made up what to do and where to get in case of being +charged by a wounded grizzly. In this instance there was not a rock or a +tree near at hand. "R.C. you'll have to stand your ground and kill him, +that's all," I declared, grimly. "But it's quiet. You can hear a bear +coming. If you do hear one--wait--and make sure your first shot lets him +down." + +"Don't worry. I could hear a squirrel coming over this ground," replied +R.C. + +Then I went on, not exactly at ease in mind, but stirred and thrilled to +the keen charged atmosphere. I had to go around under the base of a +rocky ledge, over rough ground. Presently I dropped into a bear trail, +well trodden. I followed it to a corner of cliff where it went down. +Then I kept on over loose rock and bare earth washed deep in ruts. I had +to leap these. Perhaps in ten minutes I had traveled a quarter of a mile +or less. Then _spang_! R.C.'s rifle-shot halted me. So clear and sharp, +so close, so startling! I was thrilled, delighted--he had gotten a +shot. I wanted to yell my pleasure. My blood warmed and my nerves +tingled. Swiftly my thoughts ran--bad luck was nothing--a man had only +to stick at a thing--what a fine, sharp, wonderful day for adventure! +How the hounds bayed! Had R.C. sighted a bear somewhere below? Suddenly +the still air split--_spang_! R.C.'s second shot gave me a shock. My +breast contracted. I started back. "Suppose it was a grizzly--on that +bad side!" I muttered. _Spang_!... I began to run. A great sweeping wave +of emotion charged over me, swelling all my veins to the bursting point. +_Spang_! My heart came to my throat. Leaping the ruts, bounding like a +sheep from rock to rock, I covered my back tracks. All inside me seemed +to flutter, yet I felt cold and hard--a sickening sense of reproach that +I had left my brother in a bad position. _Spang_! His fifth and last +shot followed swiftly after the fourth--too swift to be accurate. So +hurriedly a man would act in close quarters. R.C. now had an empty +rifle!... Like a flash I crossed that slope leading to the rocks, and +tore around the cliff at such speed that it was a wonder I did not pitch +down and break my neck. How long--how terribly long I seemed in reaching +the corner of cliff! Then I plunged to a halt with eyes darting +everywhere. + +R.C. was not in sight. The steep curved neck of slope seemed all rocks, +all trees, all brush. Then I heard a wild hoarse bawl and a loud +crashing of brush. My gaze swerved to an open spot. A patch of manzanita +seemed to blur round a big bear, standing up, fighting the branches, +threshing and growling. But where was R.C.? Fearfully my gaze peered +near and all around this wounded bear. "Hey there!" I yelled with all my +might. + +R.C.'s answer was another _spang_. I heard the bullet hit the bear. It +must have gone clear through him for I saw bits of fur and manzanita +fly. The bear plunged out of the bushes--out of my sight. How he crashed +the brush--rolled the rocks! I listened. Down and down he crashed. Then +the sound changed somewhat. He was rolling. At last that thumping sound +ceased, and after it the roll of rocks. + +"Are you--all right?" I shouted. + +Then, after a moment that made me breathless, I heard R.C. laugh, a +little shakily. "Sure am.... Did you see him?" + +"Yes. I think he's your bear." + +"I'm afraid he's got away. The hounds took another bear down the canyon. +What'll we do?" + +"Come on down," I said. + +Fifty yards or more down the slope we met. I showed him a great splotch +of blood on a flat stone. "We'll find him not far down," I said. So we +slid and crawled, and held to brush and rocks, following that bloody +trail until we came to a ledge. From there I espied the bear lodged +against a manzanita bush. He lay on his back, all four paws extended, +and he was motionless. R.C. and I sat down right there on the ledge. + +"Looks pretty big--black and brown--mostly brown," I said. "I'm glad, +old man, you stuck it out." + +"Big!..." exclaimed R.C. with that same peculiar little laugh. "He +doesn't look big now. But up there he looked like a hill.... What do you +think? He came up that very way you told me to look out for. And if I +hadn't had ears he'd got right on me. As it was, when I heard little +rolling stones, and then saw him, he was almost on a level with me. My +nerve was all right. I knew I had him. And I made sure of my first shot. +I knocked him flat. But he got up--let out an awful snarl--and plunged +my way. I can't say I know he charged me. Only it was just the same as +if he had!... I knocked him down again and this time he began to kick +and jump down the slope. That was my best shot. Think I missed him the +next three. You see I had time to get shaky. If he had kept coming at +me--good night!... I had trouble loading. But when I got ready again I +ran down and saw him in that bush. Wasn't far from him then. When he let +out that bawl he saw me. I don't know much about bears, but I know he +wanted to get at me. And I'm sure of what he'd have done.... I didn't +miss my last shot." + +We sat there a while longer, slowly calming down. Wonderful indeed had +been some of the moments of thrill, but there had been others not +conducive to happiness. Why do men yearn for adventure in wild moments +and regret the risks and spilled blood afterward? + + +IX + +The hounds enjoyed a well-earned rest the next day. R.C. and I, behind +Haught's back, fed them all they could eat. The old hunter had a fixed +idea that dogs should be kept lean and hungry so they would run bears +the better. Perhaps he was right. Only I could not withstand Old Dan and +Old Tom as they limped to me, begging and whining. Yet not even sore +feet and hunger could rob these grand old hounds of their dignity. For +an hour that morning I sat beside them in a sunny spot. + +In the afternoon Copple took me on a last deer hunt for that trip. We +rode down the canyon a mile, and climbed out on the west slope. Haught +had described this country as a "wolf" to travel. He used that word to +designate anything particularly tough. We found the ridge covered with a +dense forest, in places a matted jungle of pine saplings. These thickets +were impenetrable. Heavy snows had bent the pines so that they grew at +an angle. We found it necessary to skirt these thickets, and at that, +sometimes had to cut our way through with our little axes. Hunting was +scarcely possible under such conditions. Still we did not see any deer +tracks. + +Eventually we crossed this ridge, or at least the jungle part of it, and +got lower down into hollows and swales full of aspens. Copple recognized +country he had hunted before. We made our way up a long shallow hollow +that ended in an open where lay the remains of an old log cabin, and +corrals. From under a bluff bubbled a clear beautiful spring. Copple +looked all around slowly, with strange expression, and at last, +dismounting he knelt to drink of the spring. + +"Ah-h-good!" he exclaimed, after a deep draught. "Get down an' drink. +Snow water an' it never goes dry." + +Indeed it was so cold it made my teeth ache, and so pure and sweet that +I drank until I could hold no more. Deer and cat and bear tracks showed +along the margin of clean sand. Lower down were fresh turkey tracks. A +lonely spring in the woods visited by wild game! This place was +singularly picturesque and beautiful. The purest drinking water is found +in wild forest or on mountains. Men, cities, civilization contaminate +waters that are not isolated. + +Copple told me a man named Mitchell had lived in that lonely place +thirty years ago. Copple, as a boy, had worked for him--had ridden wild +bronchos and roped wild steers in that open, many and many a day. +Something of unconscious pathos showed in Copple's eyes as he gazed +around, and in his voice. We all hear the echoing footsteps of the past +years! In those days Copple said the ranch was overrun by wild game, and +wild horses too. + +We rode on westward, to come out at length on the rim of a magnificent +canyon. It was the widest and deepest and wildest gorge I had come +across in this country. So deep that only a faint roar of running water +reached our ears! The slopes were too steep for man, let alone a horse; +and the huge cliffs and giant spruces gave it a singularly rugged +appearance. We saw deer on the opposite slope. Copple led along the +edge, searching for traces of an old trail where Mitchell used to drive +cattle across. We did not find a trail, but we found a place where +Copple said one used to be. I could see no signs of it. Here leading his +horse with one hand and wielding his little axe with the other Copple +started down. For my part I found going down remarkably easy. The only +trouble I had was to hold on, so I would not go down like a flash. +Stockings, my horse, had in a few weeks become a splendid traveler in +the forest. He had learned to restrain his spirit and use his +intelligence. Wherever I led he would go and that without any fear. +There is something fine in constant association with an intelligent +horse under such circumstances. In bad places Stockings braced his +forefeet, sat on his haunches, and slid, sometimes making me jump to get +out of his way. We found the canyon bed a narrow notch, darkly rich and +green, full of the melody of wild birds and murmuring brook, with huge +rocks all stained gold and russet, and grass as high as our knees. Frost +still lingered in the dark, cool, shady retreat; and where the sun +struck a narrow strip of the gorge there was warm, sweet, dry breath of +the forest. But for the most part, down here all was damp, dank, cool +shadow where sunshine never reached, and where the smells were of dead +leaves and wet moss and ferns and black rich earth. + +Impossible we found it to ascend the other slope where we had seen the +deer, so we had to ride up the canyon, a matter greatly to my liking. +Copple thought I was hunting with him, but really, except to follow him, +I did not think of the meaning of his slow wary advance. Only a few more +days had I to roam the pine-scented forest. That ride up this deep gorge +was rich in sensation. Sun and sky and breeze and forest encompassed me. +The wilderness was all about me; and I regretted when the canyon lost +its splendid ruggedness, and became like the others I had traversed, and +at last grew to be a shallow grassy ravine, with patches of gray aspens +along the tiny brook. + +As we climbed out once more, this time into an open, beautiful pine +forest, with little patches of green thicket, I seemed to have been +drugged by the fragrance and the color and the beauty of the wild. For +when Copple called low and sharp: "Hist!" I stared uncomprehendingly at +him. + +"Deer!" he whispered, pointing. "Get off an' smoke 'em up!" + +Something shot through me--a different kind of thrill. Ahead in the open +I saw gray, graceful, wild forms trotting away. Like a flash I slid off +my horse and jerked out my rifle. I ran forward a few steps. The deer +had halted--were gazing at us with heads up and ears high. What a wild +beautiful picture! As I raised my rifle they seemed to move and vanish +in the green. The hunter in me, roused at last, anathematized my +miserable luck. I ran ahead another few steps, to be halted by Copple. +"Buck!" he called, sharply. "Hurry!" Then, farther on in the open, out +in the sunlight, I saw a noble stag, moving, trotting toward us. Keen, +hard, fierce in my intensity, I aligned the sights upon his breast and +fired. Straight forward and high he bounded, to fall with a heavy thud. + +Copple's horse, startled by my shot, began to snort and plunge. "Good +shot," yelled Copple. "He's our meat." + +What possessed me I knew not, but I ran ahead of Copple. My eyes +searched avidly the bush-dotted ground for my quarry. The rifle felt hot +in my tight grip. All inside me was a tumult--eager, keen, wild +excitement. The great pines, the green aisles leading away into the +woods, the shadows under the thickets, the pine-pitch tang of the air, +the loneliness of that lonely forest--all these seemed familiar, sweet, +beautiful, things mine alone, things seen and smelled and felt before, +things ... Then suddenly I ran right upon my deer, lying motionless, +dead I thought. He appeared fairly large, with three-point antlers. I +heard Copple's horse thudding the soft earth behind me, and I yelled: "I +got him, Ben." That was a moment of exultation. + +It ended suddenly. Something halted me. My buck, now scarcely fifteen +feet from me, began to shake and struggle. He raised his head, uttering +a choking gasp. I heard the flutter of blood in his throat. He raised +himself on his front feet and lifted his head high, higher, until his +nose pointed skyward and his antlers lay back upon his shoulders. Then a +strong convulsion shook him. I heard the shuddering wrestle of his whole +body. I heard the gurgle and flow of blood. Saw the smoke of fresh blood +and smelled it! I saw a small red spot in his gray breast where my +bullet had struck. I saw a great bloody gaping hole on his rump where +the.30 Gov't expanding bullet had come out. From end to end that bullet +had torn! Yet he was not dead. Straining to rise again! + +I saw, felt all this in one flashing instant. And as swiftly my spirit +changed. What I might have done I never knew, but most likely I would +have shot him through the brain. Only a sudden action of the stag +paralyzed all my force. He lowered his head. He saw me. And dying, with +lungs and heart and bowels shot to shreds, he edged his stiff front feet +toward me, he dragged his afterquarters, he slid, he flopped, he +skittered convulsively at me. No fear in the black, distended, wild +eyes! + +Only hate, only terrible, wild, unquenchable spirit to live long enough +to kill me! I saw it, He meant to kill me. How magnificent, how horrible +this wild courage! My eyes seemed riveted upon him, as he came closer, +closer. He gasped. Blood sputtered from his throat. But more terrible +than agony, than imminent death was the spirit of this wild beast to +slay its enemy. Inch by inch he skidded closer to me, with a convulsive +quivering awful to see. No veil of the past, no scale of civilization +between beast and man then! Enemies as old as the earth! I had shot him +to eat, and he would kill me before he died. For me the moment was +monstrous. No hunter was I then, but a man stricken by the spirit and +mystery of life, by the agony and terror of death, by the awful strange +sense that this stag would kill me. + +But Copple galloped up, and drawing his revolver, he shot the deer +through the head. It fell in a heap. + +"Don't ever go close to a crippled deer," admonished my comrade, as he +leaped off his horse. "I saw a fellow once that was near killed by a +buck he'd taken for dead.... Strange the way this buck half stood up. +Reckon he meant bad, but he was all in. You hit him plumb center." + +"Yes, Ben, it was--strange," I replied, soberly. I caught Copple's keen +dark glance studying me. "When you open him up--see what my bullet did, +will you?" + +"All right. Help me hang him to a snag here," returned Copple, as he +untied his lasso. + +When we got the deer strung up I went off into the woods, and sat on a +log, and contended with a queer sort of sickness until it passed away. +But it left a state of mind that I knew would require me to probe into +myself, and try to understand once and for all time this bloodthirsy +tendency of man to kill. It would force me to try to analyze the +psychology of hunting. Upon my return to Copple I found he had the buck +ready to load upon his horse. His hands were bright red. He was wiping +his hunting-knife on a bunch of green pine needles. + +"That 150-grain soft-nose bullet is some executioner," he declared, +forcefully. "Your bullet mushroomed just after it went into his breast. +It tore his lung to pieces, cut open his heart, made a mess of kidneys +an' paunch, an' broke his spine.... An' look at this hole where it came +out!" + +I helped Copple heave the load on his saddle and tie it securely, and I +got my hands red at the job, but I did not really look at the buck +again. And upon our way back to camp I rode in the lead all the way. We +reached camp before sunset, where I had to endure the felicitations of +R.C. and my comrades, all of whom were delighted that at last I had +gotten a buck. Takahashi smiled all over his broad brown face. "My +goodnish! I awful glad! Nice fat deer!" + +That night I lay awake a long time, and though aware of the moan of the +wind in the pines and the tinkle of the brook, and the melancholy hoot +of an owl, and later the still, sad, black silence of the midnight +hours, I really had no pleasure in them. My mind was active. + +Boys are inherently cruel. The games they play, at least those they +invent, instinctively partake of some element of brute nature. They +chase, they capture, they imprison, they torture, and they kill. No +secret rendezvous of a boy's pirate gang ever failed to be soaked with +imaginary blood! And what group of boys have not played at being +pirates? The Indian games are worse--scalping, with red-hot cinders +thrown upon the bleeding head, and the terrible running of the gauntlet, +and burning at the stake. + +What youngster has not made wooden knives to spill the blood of his +pretended enemies? Little girls play with dolls, and with toy houses, +and all the implements of making a home; but sweet and dear as the +little angels are they love a boy's game, and if they can through some +lucky accident participate in one it is to scream and shudder and fight, +indeed like the females of the species. No break here between these +little mothers of doll-babies and the bloody mothers of the French +Revolution, or of dusky, naked, barbarian children of a primitive day! + +Boys love the chase. And that chase depends upon environment. For want +of wild game they will harry a poor miserable tom-cat with sticks and +stones. I belonged once to a gang of young ruffians who chased the +neighbor's chickens, killed them with clubs, and cooked them in tin +cans, over a hidden fire. Boys love nothing so much as to chase a +squirrel or a frightened little chipmunk back and forth along a rail +fence. They brandish their sticks, run and yell, dart to and fro, like +young Indians. They rob bird's nests, steal the eggs, pierce them and +blow them. They capture the young birds, and are not above killing the +parents that fly frantically to the rescue. I knew of boys who ground +captured birds to death on a grindstone. Who has not seen a boy fling +stones at a helpless hop-toad? + +As boys grow older to the age of reading they select, or at least love +best, those stories of bloodshed and violence. Stevenson wrote that boys +read for some element of the brute instinct in them. His two wonderful +books _Treasure Island_ and _Kidnapped_ are full of fight and the +killing of men. _Robinson Crusoe_ is the only great boy's book I ever +read that did not owe its charm to fighting. But still did not old +Crusoe fight to live on his lonely island? And this wonderful tale is +full of hunting, and has at the end the battle with cannibals. + +When lads grow up they become hunters, almost without exception, at +least in spirit if not in deed. Early days and environment decide +whether or not a man becomes a hunter. In all my life I have met only +two grown men who did not care to go prowling and hunting in the woods +with a gun. An exception proves a great deal, but all the same most men, +whether they have a chance or not, love to hunt. Hunters, therefore, +there are of many degrees. Hunters of the lowly cotton-tail and the +woodland squirrel; hunters of quail, woodcock, and grouse; hunters of +wild ducks and geese; hunters of foxes--the red-coated English and the +homespun clad American; hunters--which is a kinder name for trappers--of +beaver, marten, otter, mink, all the furred animals; hunters of deer, +cat, wolf, bear, antelope, elk, moose, caribou; hunters of the barren +lands where the ice is king and where there are polar bears, white +foxes, musk-ox, walrus. Hunters of different animals of different +countries. African hunters for lion, rhinoceros, elephant, buffalo, +eland, hartebeest, giraffe, and a hundred species made known to all the +world by such classical sportsmen as Selous, Roosevelt, Stewart Edward +White. + +But they are all hunters and their game is the deadly chase in the open +or the wild. There are hunters who hate action, who hate to walk and +climb and toil and wear themselves out to get a shot. Such men are +hunters still, but still not men! There are hunters who have game driven +up to them. I heard a story told by an officer whom I believe. In the +early days of the war he found himself somewhere on the border between +Austria and Germany. He was invited to a hunt by personages of high +degree. They motored to a sequestered palace in the forest, and next day +motored to a shooting-lodge. At daylight he was called, and taken to the +edge of a forest and stationed in an open glade. His stand was an +upholstered divan placed high in the forks of a tree. His guide told him +that pretty soon a doe would come out of the forest. But he was not to +shoot it. In fifteen minutes a lame buck would come out. But he was not +to shoot that one either. In ten more minutes another buck would come +out, and this third deer he was to kill. My informant told me this was +all very seriously meant. The gun given him was large enough in calibre +to kill an elephant. He walked up the steps to the comfortable divan and +settled himself to await events. The doe trotted out exactly on schedule +time. So did the lame buck. They came from the woods and were not +frightened. The third deer, a large buck, was a few moments late--three +minutes to be exact. According to instructions the American killed this +buck--a matter that took some nerve he said, for the buck walked out +like a cow. That night a big supper was given in the guest's honor. He +had to eat certain parts of the buck he had killed, and drink flagons of +wine. This kind of hunting must be peculiarly German or Austrian, and +illustrates the peculiar hunting ways of men. + +A celebrated bear hunter and guide of the northwest told me that for +twenty years he had been taking eastern ministers--preachers of the +gospel--on hunting trips into the wild. He assured me that of all the +bloody murderers--waders in gore, as he expressed it--these teachers of +the gospel were the worst. The moment they got out into the wild they +wanted to kill, kill, kill. He averred their natures seemed utterly to +change. + +In reading the books of hunters and in listening to their talks at +Camp-fire Club dinners I have always been struck with the expression of +what these hunters felt, what they thought they got out of hunting. The +change from city to the open wilderness; the difference between noise, +tumult, dirt, foul air, and the silence, the quiet, the cleanness and +purity; the sweet breath of God's country as so many called it; the +beauty of forest and mountain; the wildness of ridge and valley; the +wonder of wild animals in their native haunts; and the zest, the joy, +the excitement, the magnificent thrill of the stalk and the chase. No +one of them ever dwelt upon the kill! It was mentioned, as a result, an +end, a consummation. How strange that hunters believed these were the +attractions of the chase! They felt them, to be sure, in some degree, or +they would not remember them. But they never realized that these +sensations were only incidental to hunting. + +Men take long rides, hundreds and thousands of miles, to hunt. They +endure hardships, live in camps with absolute joy. They stalk through +the forest, climb the craggy peaks, labor as giants in the building of +the pyramids, all with a tight clutch on a deadly rifle. They are keen, +intent, strained, quiveringly eager all with a tight clutch on a deadly +rifle. If hunters think while on a stalk--which matter I doubt +considerably--they think about the lay of the land, or the aspect of it, +of the habits and possibilities of their quarry, of their labor and +chances, and particularly of the vague unrealized sense of comfort, +pleasure, satisfaction in the moment. Tight muscles, alert eyes, +stealthy steps, stalk and run and crawl and climb, breathlessness, a hot +close-pressed chest, thrill on thrill, and sheer bursting riot of nerve +and vein--these are the ordinary sensations and actions of a hunter. No +ascent too lofty--no descent too perilous for him then, if he is a man +as well as a hunter! + +Take the Brazilian hunter of the jungle. He is solitary. He is +sufficient to himself. He is a survival of the fittest. The number of +his tribe are few. Nature sees to that. But he must eat, and therefore +he hunts. He spears fish and he kills birds and beasts with a blow-gun. +He hunts to live. But the manner of his action, though more skilful, is +the same as any hunter's. Likewise his sensations, perhaps more vivid +because hunting for him is a matter of life or death. Take the Gaucho of +Patagonia--the silent lonely Indian hunter of the Pampas. He hunts with +a _bola_, a thin thong or string at each end of which is a heavy +leather-covered ball of stone or iron. This the Gaucho hurls through the +air at the neck or legs of his quarry. The balls fly round--the thong +binds tight--it is a deadly weapon. The user of it rides and stalks and +sees and throws and feels the same as any other hunter. Time and place, +weapon and game have little to do with any differences in hunters. + +Up to this 1919 hunting trip in the wilds I had always marveled at the +fact that naturalists and biologists hate sportsmen. Not hunters like +the Yellow Knife Indians, or the snake-eating Bushmen of Australia, or +the Terra-del-Fuegians, or even the native country rabbit-hunters--but +the so-called sportsmen. Naturalists and biologists have simply learned +the truth why men hunt, and that when it is done in the name of sport, +or for sensation, it is a degenerate business. Stevenson wrote beautiful +words about "the hunter home from the hill," but so far as I can find +out he never killed anything himself. He was concerned with the romance +of the thought, with alliteration, and the singular charm of the +truth--sunset and the end of the day, the hunter's plod down the hill to +the cottage, to the home where wife and children awaited him. Indeed it +is a beautiful truth, and not altogether in the past, for there are +still farmers and pioneers. + +Hunting is a savage primordial instinct inherited from our ancestors. +It goes back through all the ages of man, and farther still--to the age +when man was not man, but hairy ape, or some other beast from which we +are descended. To kill is in the very marrow of our bones. If man after +he developed into human state had taken to vegetable diet--which he +never did take--he yet would have inherited the flesh-eating instincts +of his animal forebears. And no instinct is ever wholly eradicated. But +man was a meat eater. By brute strength, by sagacity, by endurance he +killed in order to get the means of subsistence. If he did not kill he +starved. And it is a matter of record, even down to modern times, that +man has existed by cannibalism. + +The cave-man stalked from his hole under a cliff, boldly forth with his +huge club or stone mace. Perhaps he stole his neighbor's woman, but if +so he had more reason to hunt than before--he had to feed her as well as +himself. This cave-man, savagely descended, savagely surrounded, must +have had to hunt all the daylight hours and surely had to fight to kill +his food, or to keep it after he killed it. Long, long ages was the +being called cave-man in developing; more long ages he lived on the +earth, in that dim dark mystic past; and just as long were his +descendants growing into another and higher type of barbarian. But they +and their children and grandchildren, and all their successive, +innumerable, and varying descendants had to hunt meat and eat meat to +live. + +The brain of barbarian man was small, as shown by the size and shape of +his skull, but there is no reason to believe its construction and use +were any different from the use of other organs--the eye to see +with--the ear to hear with--the palate to taste with. Whatever the brain +of primitive man was it held at birth unlimited and innumerable +instincts like those of its progenitors; and round and smooth in +babyhood, as it was, it surely gathered its sensations, one after +another in separate and habitual channels, until when manhood arrived it +had its convolutions, its folds and wrinkles. And if instinct and +tendency were born in the brain how truly must they be a part of bone, +tissue, blood. + +We cannot escape our inheritance. Civilization is merely a veneer, a +thin-skinned polish over the savage and crude nature. Fear, anger, lust, +the three great primal instincts are restrained, but they live +powerfully in the breast of man. Self preservation is the first law of +human life, and is included in fear. Fear of death is the first +instinct. Then if for thousands, perhaps millions of years, man had to +hunt because of his fear of death, had to kill meat to survive--consider +the ineradicable and permanent nature of the instinct. + +The secret now of the instinctive joy and thrill and wildness of the +chase lies clear. + +Stealing through the forest or along the mountain slope, eyes roving, +ears sensitive to all vibrations of the air, nose as keen as that of a +hound, hands tight on a deadly rifle, we unconsciously go back. We go +back to the primitive, to the savage state of man. Therein lies the joy. +How sweet, vague, unreal those sensations of strange familiarity with +wild places we know we never saw before! But a million years before that +hour a hairy ancestor of ours felt the same way in the same kind of a +place, and in us that instinct survives. That is the secret of the +wonderful strange charm of wild places, of the barren rocks of the +desert wilderness, of the great-walled lonely canyons. Something now in +our blood, in our bones once danced in men who lived then in similar +places. And lived by hunting! + +The child is father to the man. In the light of this instinct how easy +to understand his boyish cruelty. He is true to nature. Unlimited and +infinite in his imagination when he hunts--whether with his toys or +with real weapons. If he flings a stone and kills a toad he is +instinctively killing meat for his home in the cave. How little +difference between the lad and the man! For a man the most poignantly +exciting, the most thrillingly wild is the chase when he is weaponless, +when he runs and kills his quarry with a club. Here we have the essence +of the matter. The hunter is proudest of his achievement in which he has +not had the help of deadly weapons. Unconsciously he will brag and glow +over that conquest wherein lay greatest peril to him--when he had +nothing but his naked hands. What a hot gush of blood bursts over him! +He goes back to his barbarian state when a man only felt. The savage +lived in his sensations. He saw, heard, smelled, tasted, touched, but +seldom thought. The earthy, the elemental of eye and ear and skin +surrounded him. When the man goes into the wilderness to change into a +hunter that surviving kinship with the savage revives in his being, and +all unconsciously dominates him with driving passion. Passion it is +because for long he has been restrained in the public haunts of men. His +real nature has been hidden. The hunting of game inhibits his thoughts. +He feels only. He forgets himself. He sees the track, he hears the +stealthy step, he smells the wild scent; and his blood dances with the +dance of the ages. Then he is a killer. Then the ages roll back. Then he +is brother to the savage. Then all unconsciously he lives the chase, the +fight, the death-dealing moment as they were lived by all his ancestors +down through the misty past. + +What then should be the attitude of a thoughtful man toward this +liberation of an instinct--that is to say, toward the game or sport or +habit of hunting to kill? Not easily could I decide this for myself. +After all life is a battle. Eternally we are compelled to fight. If we +do not fight, if we do not keep our bodies strong, supple, healthy, soon +we succumb to some germ or other that gets a hold in our blood or lungs +and fights for its life, its species, until it kills us. Fight therefore +is absolutely necessary to long life, and Alas! eventually that fight +must be lost. The savages, the Babylonians, the Persians, the Greeks all +worshipped physical prowess in man. Manhood, strength--the symbols of +fight! To be physically strong and well a man must work hard, with +frequent intervals of change of exercise, and he must eat meat. I am not +a great meat eater, but I doubt if I could do much physical labor or any +brain work on a vegetable diet. Therefore I hold it fair and manly to go +once a year to the wilderness to hunt. Let that hunt be clean hard toil, +as hard as I can stand! Perhaps nature created the lower animals for the +use of man. If I had been the creator I think I would have made it +possible for the so-called higher animal man to live on air. + +Somewhere I read a strange remarkable story about monkeys and priests in +the jungle of India. An old order of priests had from time out of mind +sent two of their comrades into the jungle to live with the monkeys, to +tame them, feed them, study them, love them. And these priests told an +incredible story, yet one that haunted with its possibilities of truth. +After a long term of years in which one certain priest had lived with +the monkeys and they had learned truly he meant them no harm and only +loved them, at rare moments an old monkey would come to him and weep and +weep in the most terrible and tragic manner. This monkey wanted to tell +something, but could not speak. But the priest knew that the monkey was +trying to tell him how once the monkey people had been human like him. +Only they had retrograded in the strange scale of evolution. And the +terrible weeping was for loss--loss of physical stature, of speech, +perhaps of soul. + +What a profound and stunning idea! Does evolution work backward? Could +nature in its relentless inscrutable design for the unattainable +perfection have developed man only to start him backward toward the dim +ages whence he sprang? Who knows! But every man can love wild animals. +Every man can study and try to understand the intelligence of his horse, +the loyalty of his dog. And every hunter can hunt less with his +instinct, and more with an understanding of his needs, and a +consideration for the beasts only the creator knows. + + +X + +The last day of everything always comes. Time, like the tide, waits for +no man. Anticipation is beautiful, but it is best and happiest to enjoy +the present. Live while we may! + +On this last day of my hunt we were up almost before it was light enough +to see. The morning star shone radiant in the dark gray sky. All the +other stars seemed dimmed by its glory. Silent as a grave was the +forest. I started a fire, chopped wood so vigorously that I awakened +Nielsen who came forth like a burly cave-man; and I washed hands and +face in the icy cold brook. By the time breakfast was over the gold of +the rising sun was tipping the highest pines on the ridges. + +We started on foot, leaving the horses hobbled near camp. All the hounds +appeared fit. Even Old Dan trotted along friskily. Pyle, a neighbor of +Haught's, had come to take a hunt with us, bringing two dogs with him. +For this last day I had formulated a plan. Edd and one of the boys were +to take the hounds down on the east side of the great ridge that made +the eastern wall of Dude Canyon. R.C. was to climb out on this ridge, +and take his position at the most advantageous point. We had already +chased half a dozen bears over this saddle, one of which was the big +frosty-coated grizzly that Edd and Nielsen had shot at. The rest of us +hurried to the head of Dude Canyon. Copple and I were to go down to the +first promontories under the rim. The others were to await developments +and go where Haught thought best to send them. + +Copple and I started down over and around the crags, going carefully +until we reached the open slope under the rim-rock. It seemed this +morning that I was fresh, eager, agile like a goat on my feet. In my +consciousness of this I boasted to Copple that I would dislodge fewer +stones and so make less noise than he. The canyon sloped at an angle of +about forty-five degrees, and we slid, stepped, jumped and ran down +without starting an avalanche. + +When we descended to the first bare cape of projecting rock the hour was +the earliest in which I had been down under the rim. All the canyon and +the great green gulf below were unusually fresh and beautiful. I heard +the lonely call of strange birds and the low murmur of running water. An +eagle soared in the sunlight. High above us to the east rose the +magnificent slope of Dude Canyon. I gazed up to the black and green and +silver ascent, up to the gold-tipped craggy crest where R.C. had his +stand. I knew he could see me, but I could not see him. Afterward he +told me that my red cap shone clearly out of green and gray, so he had +no difficulty in keeping track of my whereabouts. The thickets of aspens +and oaks seemed now to stand on end. How dark in the shade and steely +and cold they looked! That giant ridge still obstructed the sun, and +all on this side of it, under its frowning crest and slope was dark and +fresh and cool in shadow. The ravines were choked black with spruce +trees. Here along this gray shady slant of wall, in niches and cracks, +and under ledges, and on benches, were the beds of the bears. Even as I +gazed momentarily I expected to see a bear. It looked two hundred yards +across the canyon from where we stood, but Copple declared it was a +thousand. On our other side capes and benches and groves were bright in +sunshine, clear across the rough breaks to the west wall of Dude Canyon. +I saw a flock of wild pigeons below. Way out and beyond rolled the floor +of the basin, green and vast, like a ridged sea of pines, to the bold +black Mazatzals so hauntingly beckoning from the distance. Copple spoke +now and then, but I wanted to be silent. How wild and wonderful this +place in the early morning! + +But I had not long to meditate and revel in beauty and wildness. Far +down across the mouth of the canyon, at the extreme southern end of that +vast oak thicket, the hounds gave tongue. Old Dan first! In the still +cool air how his great wolf-bay rang out the wildness of the time and +place! Already Edd and Pyle had rounded the end of the east ridge and +were coming up along the slope of Dude Canyon. + +"Hounds workin' round," declared Copple. "Now I'll tell you what. Last +night a bear was feedin' along that end of the thicket. The hounds are +millin' round tryin' to straighten out his trail.... It's a dead cinch +they'll jump a bear an' we'll see him." + +"Look everywhere!" I cautioned Copple, and my eyes roved and strained +over all that vast slope. Suddenly I espied the flash of something +black, far down the thicket, and tried to show it to my comrade. + +"Let's go around an' down to that lower point of rock. It's a better +stand than this. Closer to the thicket an' commands those.... By Golly, +I see what you see! That's a bear, slippin' down. Stay with me now!" + +Staying with Copple was a matter of utter disregard of clothes, limbs, +life. He plunged off that bare ledge, slid flat on his back, and wormed +feet first under manzanita, and gaining open slope got up to run and +jump into another thicket. By staying with him I saw that I would have a +way opened through the brush, and something to fall upon if I fell. He +rimmed the edge of a deep gorge that made me dizzy. He leaped cracks. He +let himself down over a ledge by holding to bushes. He found steps to +descend little bluffs, and he flew across the open slides of weathered +rock. I was afraid this short cut to the lower projecting cape of rock +would end suddenly on some impassable break or cliff, but though the +travel grew rough we still kept on. I wore only boots, trousers, and +shirt, and cap, with cartridge belt strapped tight around me. It was a +wonder I was not stripped. Some of my rags went to decorate the wake we +left down that succession of ledges. But we made it, with me at least, +bruised and ragged, dusty and choked, and absolutely breathless. My body +burned as with fire. Hot sweat ran in streams down my chest. At last we +reached the bare flat projecting cape of rock, and indeed it afforded an +exceedingly favorable outlook. I had to sink down on the rock; I could +not talk until I got my breath; but I used my eyes to every advantage. +Neither Copple nor I could locate the black moving object we had seen +from above. We were much closer to the hounds, though they still were +baying a tangled cross trail. Fortunate it was for me that I was given +these few moments to rest from my tremendous exertions. + +My eyes searched the leaf-covered slope so brown and sear, and the +shaggy thickets, and tried to pierce the black tangle of spruce +patches. All at once, magically it seemed, my gaze held to a dark +shadow, a bit of dense shade, under a large spruce tree. Something +moved. Then a big bear rose right out of his bed of leaves, majestically +as if disturbed, and turned his head back toward the direction of the +baying hounds. Next he walked out. He stopped. I was quivering with +eagerness to tell Copple, but I waited. Then the bear walked behind a +tree and peeped out, only his head showing. After a moment again he +walked out. + +"Ben, aren't you ever going to see him?" I cried at last. + +"What?" ejaculated Copple, in surprise. + +"Bear!" and I pointed. "This side of dead spruce." + +"No!... Reckon you see a stump.... By Golly! I see him. He's a dandy. +Reddish color.... Doc, he's one of them mean old cinnamons." + +"Watch! What will he do?--Ben, he hears the hounds." + +How singularly thrilling to see him, how slowly he walked, how devoid of +fear, how stately! + +"Sure he hears them. See him look back. The son-of-a-gun! I'll bet he's +given us the bear-laugh more than once." + +"Ben, how far away is he?" I asked. + +"Oh, that's eight hundred yards," declared Copple. "A long shot. Let's +wait. He may work down closer. But most likely he'll run up-hill." + +"If he climbs he'll go right to R.C.'s stand," I said, gazing upward. + +"Sure will. There's no other saddle." + +Then I decided that I would not shoot at him unless he started down. My +excitement was difficult to control. I found it impossible to attend to +my sensations, to think about what I was feeling. But the moment was +full of suspense. The bear went into a small clump of spruces and +stayed there a little while. Tantalizing moments! The hounds were hot +upon his trail, still working to and fro in the oak thicket. I judged +scarcely a mile separated them from the bear. Again he disappeared +behind a little bush. Remembering that five pairs of sharp eyes could +see me from the points above I stood up and waved my red cap. I waved it +wildly as a man waves a red flag in moments of danger. Afterward R.C. +said he saw me plainly and understood my action. Again the bear had +showed, this time on an open slide, where he had halted. He was looking +across the canyon while I waved my cap. + +"Ben, could he see us so far?" I asked. + +"By Golly, I'll bet he does see us. You get to smokin' him up. An' if +you hit him don't be nervous if he starts for us. Cinnamons are bad +customers. Lay out five extra shells an' make up your mind to kill him." + +I dropped upon one knee. The bear started down, coming towards us over +an open slide. "Aim a little coarse an' follow him," said Copple. I did +so, and tightening all my muscles into a ball, holding my breath, I +fired. The bear gave a savage kick backwards. He jerked back to bite at +his haunch. A growl, low, angry, vicious followed the echoes of my +rifle. Then it seemed he pointed his head toward us and began to run +down the slope, looking our way all the time. + +"By Golly!" yelled Copple. "You stung him one an' he's comin'!... Now +you've got to shoot some. He can roll down-hill an' run up-hill like a +jack rabbit. Take your time--wait for open shots--an' make sure!" + +Copple's advice brought home to me what could happen even with the +advantage on my side. Also it brought the cold tight prickle to my skin, +the shudder that was not a thrill, the pressure of blood running too +swiftly, I did not feel myself shake, but the rifle was unsteady. I +rested an elbow on my knee, yet still I had difficulty in keeping the +sight on him. I could get it on him, but could not keep it there. Again +he came out into the open, at the head of a yellow slide, that reached +to a thicket below. I must not hurry, yet I had to hurry. After all he +had not so far to come and most of the distance was under cover. Through +my mind flashed Haught's story of a cinnamon that kept coming with ten +bullets in him. + +"Doc, he's paddin' along!" warned Copple. "Smoke some of them shells!" + +Straining every nerve I aimed as before, only a little in advance, held +tight and pulled at the same instant. The bear doubled up in a ball and +began to roll down the slide. He scattered the leaves. Then into the +thicket he crashed, knocking the oaks, and cracking the brush. + +"Some shot!" yelled Copple. "He's your bear!" + +But my bear continued to crash through the brush. I shot again and yet +again, missing both times. Apparently he was coming, faster now--and +then he showed dark almost at the foot of our slope. Trees were thick +there. I could not see there, and I could not look for bear and reload +at the same moment. My fingers were not very nimble. + +"Don't shoot," shouted Copple. "He's your bear. I never make any +mistakes when I see game hit." + +"But I see him coming!" + +"Where?... By Golly! that's another bear. He's black. Yours is red.... +Look sharp. Next time he shows smoke him!" + +I saw a flash of black across an open space--I heard a scattering of +gravel. But I had no chance to shoot. Then both of us heard a bear +running in thick leaves. + +"He's gone down the canyon," said Copple. "Now look for your bear." + +"Listen Ben. The hounds are coming fast. There's Rock.--There's Sue." + +"I see them. Old Dan--what do you think of that old dog?... There!--your +red bear's still comin' ... He's bad hurt." + +Though Copple tried hard to show me where, and I strained my eyes, I +could not see the bear. I could not locate the threshing of brush. I +knew it seemed close enough for me to be glad I was not down in that +thicket. How the hounds made the welkin ring! Rock was in the lead. Sue +was next. And Old Dan must have found the speed of his best days. +Strange he did not bay all down that slope! When Rock and Sue headed the +bear then I saw him. He sat up on his haunches ready to fight, but they +did not attack him. Instead they began to yelp wildly. I dared not shoot +again for fear of hitting one of them. Old Dan just beat the rest of the +pack to the bear. Up pealed a yelping chorus. I had never heard Old Dan +bay a bear at close range. With deep, hoarse, quick, wild roars he +dominated that medley. A box canyon took up the bays, cracking them back +in echo from wall to wall. + +From the saddle of the great ridge above pealed down R.C.'s: "Waahoo!" + +I saw him silhouetted dark against the sky line. He waved and I +answered. Then he disappeared. + +Nielsen bellowed from the craggy cape above and behind us. From down the +canyon Edd sent up his piercing: "Ki Yi!" Then Takahashi appeared +opposite to us, like a goat on a promontory. How his: "Banzai!" rang +above the baying of the hounds! + +"We'd better hurry down an' across," said Copple. "Reckon the hounds +will jump that bear or some one else will get there first. We got to +skedaddle!" + +As before we fell into a manzanita thicket and had to crawl. Then we +came out upon the rim of a box canyon where the echoes made such a din. +It was too steep to descend. We had to head it, and Copple took chances. +Loose boulders tripped me and stout bushes saved me. We knocked streams +of rock and gravel down into this gorge, sending up a roar as of falling +water. But we got around. A steep slope lay below, all pine needles and +leaves. From this point I saw Edd on the opposite slope. + +"I stopped one bear," I yelled. "Hurry. Look out for the dogs!" + +Then, imitating Copple, I sat down and slid as on a toboggan for some +thirty thrilling yards. Some of my anatomy and more of my rags I left +behind me. But it was too exciting then to think of hurts. I managed to +protect at least my rifle. Copple was charging into the thicket below. I +followed him into the dark gorge, where huge boulders lay, and a swift +brook ran, and leaves two feet deep carpeted the shady canyon bed. It +was gloomy down into the lower part. I saw where bear had turned over +the leaves making a dark track. + +"The hounds have quit," called Copple suddenly. "I told you he was your +bear." + +We yelled. Somebody above us answered. Then we climbed up the opposite +slope, through a dense thicket, crossing a fresh bear track, a running +track, and soon came into an open rocky slide where my bear lay +surrounded by the hounds, with Old Dan on guard. The bear was red in +color, with silky fur, a long keen head, and fine limbs, and of goodly +size. + +"Cinnamon," declared Copple, and turning him over he pointed to a white +spot on his breast. "Fine bear. About four hundred pounds. Maybe not so +heavy. But he'll take some packin' up to the rim!" + +Then I became aware of the other men. Takahashi had arrived on the +scene first, finding the bear dead. Edd came next, and after him Pyle. + +I sat down for a much needed rest. Copple interested himself in +examining the bear, finding that my first shot had hit him in the flank, +and my second had gone through the middle of his body. Next Copple +amused himself by taking pictures of bear and hounds. Old Dan came to me +and lay beside me, and looked as if to say: "Well, we got him!" + +Yells from both sides of the canyon were answered by Edd. R.C. was +rolling the rocks on his side at a great rate. But Nielsen on the other +side beat him to us. The Norwegian crashed the brush, sent the +avalanches roaring, and eventually reached us, all dirty, ragged, +bloody, with fire in his eye. He had come all the way from the rim in +short order. What a performance that must have been! He said he thought +he might be needed. R.C. guided by Edd's yells, came cracking the brush +down to us. Pale he was and wet with sweat, and there were black brush +marks across his face. His eyes were keen and sharp. He had started down +for the same reason as Nielsen's. But he had to descend a slope so steep +that he had to hold on to keep from sliding down. And he had jumped a +big bear out of a bed of leaves. The bed was still warm. R.C. said he +had smelled bear, and that his toboggan slide down that slope, with +bears all around for all he knew, had started the cold sweat on him. + +Presently George Haught joined us, having come down the bed of the +canyon. + +"We knew you'd got a bear," said George. "Father heard the first two +bullets hit meat. An' I heard him rollin' down the slope." + +"Well!" exclaimed R.C. "That's what made those first two shots sound so +strange to me. Different from the last two. Sounded like soft dead pats! +And it was lead hitting flesh. I heard it half a mile away!" + +This matter of the sound of bullets hitting flesh and being heard at a +great distance seemed to me the most remarkable feature of our hunt. +Later I asked Haught. He said he heard my first two bullets strike and +believed from the peculiar sound that I had my bear. And his stand was +fully a mile away. But the morning was unusually still and sound carried +far. + +The men hung my bear from the forks of a maple. Then they decided to +give us time to climb up to our stands before putting the hounds on the +other fresh trail. + +Nielsen, R.C., and I started to climb back up to the points. Only plenty +of time made it possible to scale those rugged bluffs. Nielsen distanced +us, and eventually we became separated. The sun grew warm. The bees +hummed. After a while we heard the baying of the hounds. They were +working westward under the bases of the bluffs. We rimmed the heads of +several gorges, climbed and crossed the west ridge of Dude Canyon, and +lost the hounds somewhere as we traveled. + +R.C. did not seem to mind this misfortune any more than I. We were +content. Resting a while we chose the most accessible ridge and started +the long climb to the rim. Westward under us opened a great noble canyon +full of forests, thicketed slopes, cliffs and caves and crags. Next time +we rested we again heard the hounds, far away at first, but gradually +drawing closer. In half an hour they appeared right under us again. +Their baying, however, grew desultory, and lacked the stirring note. +Finally we heard Edd calling and whistling to them. After that for a +while all was still. Then pealed up the clear tuneful melody of Edd's +horn, calling off the chase for that day and season. + +"All over," said R.C. "Are you glad?" + +"For Old Dan's sake and Tom's and the bears--yes," I replied. + +"Me, too! But I'd never get enough of this country." + +We proceeded on our ascent over and up the broken masses of rock, +climbing slowly and easily, making frequent and long rests. We liked to +linger in the sun on the warm piny mossy benches. Every shady cedar or +juniper wooed us to tarry a moment. Old bear tracks and fresh deer +tracks held the same interest, though our hunt was over. Above us the +gray broken mass of rim towered and loomed, more formidable as we neared +it. Sometimes we talked a little, but mostly we were silent. + +[Illustration: MEAT IN CAMP] + +[Illustration: (2) MEAT IN CAMP] + +Like an Indian, at every pause, I gazed out into the void. How sweeping +and grand the long sloping lines of ridges from the rim down! Away in +the east ragged spurs of peaks showed hazily, like uncertain mountains +on the desert. South ranged the upheaved and wild Mazatzals. Everywhere +beneath me, for leagues and leagues extended the timbered hills of +green, the gray outcroppings of rocks, the red bluffs, the golden +patches of grassy valleys, lost in the canyons. All these swept away in +a vast billowy ocean of wilderness to become dim in the purple of +distance. And the sun was setting in a blaze of gold. From the rim I +took a last lingering look and did not marvel that I loved this +wonderland of Arizona. + +[Illustration: BURROS PACKED FOR THE TRAIL] + +[Illustration: THE DEADLY CHOLLA, MOST POISONOUS AND PAIN INFLICTING OF +THE CACTUS] + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +DEATH VALLEY + +Of the five hundred and fifty-seven thousand square miles of desert-land +in the southwest Death Valley is the lowest below sea level, the most +arid and desolate. It derives its felicitous name from the earliest days +of the gold strike in California, when a caravan of Mormons, numbering +about seventy, struck out from Salt Lake, to cross the Mojave Desert and +make a short cut to the gold fields. All but two of these prospectors +perished in the deep, iron-walled, ghastly sink-holes, which from that +time became known as Death Valley. + +The survivors of this fatal expedition brought news to the world that +the sombre valley of death was a treasure mine of minerals; and since +then hundreds of prospectors and wanderers have lost their lives there. +To seek gold and to live in the lonely waste places of the earth have +been and ever will be driving passions of men. + +My companion on this trip was a Norwegian named Nielsen. On most of my +trips to lonely and wild places I have been fortunate as to comrades or +guides. The circumstances of my meeting Nielsen were so singular that I +think they will serve as an interesting introduction. Some years ago I +received a letter, brief, clear and well-written, in which the writer +stated that he had been a wanderer over the world, a sailor before the +mast, and was now a prospector for gold. He had taken four trips alone +down into the desert of Sonora, and in many other places of the +southwest, and knew the prospecting game. Somewhere he had run across my +story _Desert Gold_ in which I told about a lost gold mine. And the +point of his letter was that if I could give him some idea as to where +the lost gold mine was located he would go find it and give me half. His +name was Sievert Nielsen. I wrote him that to my regret the lost gold +mine existed only in my imagination, but if he would come to Avalon to +see me perhaps we might both profit by such a meeting. To my surprise he +came. He was a man of about thirty-five, of magnificent physique, +weighing about one hundred and ninety, and he was so enormously broad +across the shoulders that he did not look his five feet ten. He had a +wonderful head, huge, round, solid, like a cannon-ball. And his bronzed +face, his regular features, square firm jaw, and clear gray eyes, +fearless and direct, were singularly attractive to me. Well educated, +with a strange calm poise, and a cool courtesy, not common in Americans, +he evidently was a man of good family, by his own choice a rolling stone +and adventurer. + +Nielsen accompanied me on two trips into the wilderness of Arizona, on +one of which he saved my life, and on the other he rescued all our party +from a most uncomfortable and possibly hazardous situation--but these +are tales I may tell elsewhere. In January 1919 Nielsen and I traveled +around the desert of southern California from Palm Springs to Picacho, +and in March we went to Death Valley. + +Nowadays a little railroad, the Tonapah and Tidewater Railroad, runs +northward from the Santa Fe over the barren Mojave, and it passes within +fifty miles of Death Valley. + +It was sunset when we arrived at Death Valley Junction--a weird, strange +sunset in drooping curtains of transparent cloud, lighting up dark +mountain ranges, some peaks of which were clear-cut and black against +the sky, and others veiled in trailing storms, and still others white +with snow. That night in the dingy little store I heard prospectors talk +about float, which meant gold on the surface, and about high grade +ores, zinc, copper, silver, lead, manganese, and about how borax was +mined thirty years ago, and hauled out of Death Valley by teams of +twenty mules. Next morning, while Nielsen packed the outfit, I visited +the borax mill. It was the property of an English firm, and the work of +hauling, grinding, roasting borax ore went on day and night. Inside it +was as dusty and full of a powdery atmosphere as an old-fashioned flour +mill. The ore was hauled by train from some twenty miles over toward the +valley, and was dumped from a high trestle into shutes that fed the +grinders. For an hour I watched this constant stream of borax as it slid +down into the hungry crushers, and I listened to the chalk-faced +operator who yelled in my ear. Once he picked a piece of gypsum out of +the borax. He said the mill was getting out twenty-five hundred sacks a +day. The most significant thing he said was that men did not last long +at such labor, and in the mines six months appeared to be the limit of +human endurance. How soon I had enough of that choking air in the room +where the borax was ground! And the place where the borax was roasted in +huge round revolving furnaces--I found that intolerable. When I got out +into the cool clean desert air I felt an immeasurable relief. And that +relief made me thoughtful of the lives of men who labored, who were +chained by necessity, by duty or habit, or by love, to the hard tasks of +the world. It did not seem fair. These laborers of the borax mines and +mills, like the stokers of ships, and coal-diggers, and blast-furnace +hands--like thousands and millions of men, killed themselves outright or +impaired their strength, and when they were gone or rendered useless +others were found to take their places. Whenever I come in contact with +some phase of this problem of life I take the meaning or the lesson of +it to myself. And as the years go by my respect and reverence and +wonder increase for these men of elemental lives, these horny-handed +toilers with physical things, these uncomplaining users of brawn and +bone, these giants who breast the elements, who till the earth and +handle iron, who fight the natural forces with their bodies. + +That day about noon I looked back down the long gravel and greasewood +slope which we had ascended and I saw the borax-mill now only a smoky +blot on the desert floor. When we reached the pass between the Black +Mountains and the Funeral Mountains we left the road, and were soon lost +to the works of man. How strange a gladness, a relief! Something dropped +away from me. I felt the same subtle change in Nielsen. For one thing he +stopped talking, except an occasional word to the mules. + +The blunt end of the Funeral Range was as remarkable as its name. It +sheered up very high, a saw-toothed range with colored strata tilted at +an angle of forty-five degrees. Zigzag veins of black and red and +yellow, rather dull, ran through the great drab-gray mass. This end of +the range, an iron mountain, frowned down upon us with hard and +formidable aspect. The peak was draped in streaky veils of rain from +low-dropping clouds that appeared to have lodged there. All below lay +clear and cold in the sunlight. + +[Illustration: THE COLORED CALICO MOUNTAINS] + +[Illustration: DOWN THE LONG WINDING WASH TO DEATH VALLEY] + +Our direction lay to the westward, and at that altitude, about three +thousand feet, how pleasant to face the sun! For the wind was cold. The +narrow shallow wash leading down from the pass deepened, widened, almost +imperceptibly at first, and then gradually until its proportions were +striking. It was a gully where the gravel washed down during rains, and +where a scant vegetation, greasewood, and few low cacti and scrubby sage +struggled for existence. Not a bird or lizard or living creature in +sight! The trail was getting lonely. From time to time I looked back, +because as we could not see far ahead all the superb scene spread and +towered behind us. By and bye our wash grew to be a wide canyon, winding +away from under the massive, impondering wall of the Funeral Range. The +high side of this magnificent and impressive line of mountains faced +west--a succession of unscalable slopes of bare ragged rock, jagged and +jutted, dark drab, rusty iron, with gray and oblique strata running +through them far as eye could see. Clouds soared around the peaks. +Shadows sailed along the slopes. + +[Illustration: DESOLATION AND DECAY. LOOKING DOWN OVER THE DENUDED +RIDGES TO THE STARK VALLEY OF DEATH] + +Walking in loose gravel was as hard as trudging along in sand. After +about fifteen miles I began to have leaden feet. I did not mind hard +work, but I wanted to avoid over-exertion. When I am extremely wearied +my feelings are liable to be colored somewhat by depression or +melancholy. Then it always bothered me to get tired while Nielsen kept +on with his wonderful stride. + +"Say, Nielsen, do you take me for a Yaqui?" I complained. "Slow up a +little." + +Then he obliged me, and to cheer me up he told me about a little +tramping experience he had in Baja California. Somewhere on the east +slope of the Sierra Madre his burros strayed or were killed by +mountain-lions, and he found it imperative to strike at once for the +nearest ranch below the border, a distance of one hundred and fifty +miles. He could carry only so much of his outfit, and as some of it was +valuable to him he discarded all his food except a few biscuits, and a +canteen of water. Resting only a few hours, without sleep at all, he +walked the hundred and fifty miles in three days and nights. I believed +that Nielsen, by telling me such incidents of his own wild experience, +inspired me to more endurance than I knew I possessed. + +As we traveled on down the canyon its dimensions continued to grow. It +finally turned to the left, and opened out wide into a valley running +west. A low range of hills faced us, rising in a long sweeping slant of +earth, like the incline of a glacier, to rounded spurs. Half way up this +slope, where the brown earth lightened there showed an outcropping of +clay-amber and cream and cinnamon and green, all exquisitely vivid and +clear. This bright spot appeared to be isolated. Far above it rose other +clay slopes of variegated hues, red and russet and mauve and gray, and +colors indescribably merged, all running in veins through this range of +hills. We faced the west again, and descending this valley were soon +greeted by a region of clay hills, bare, cone-shaped, fantastic in +shade, slope, and ridge, with a high sharp peak dominating all. The +colors were mauve, taupe, pearl-gray, all stained by a descending band +of crimson, as if a higher slope had been stabbed to let its life blood +flow down. The softness, the richness and beauty of this texture of +earth amazed and delighted my eyes. + +Quite unprepared, at time approaching sunset, we reached and rounded a +sharp curve, to see down and far away, and to be held mute in our +tracks. Between a white-mantled mountain range on the left and the +dark-striped lofty range on the right I could see far down into a gulf, +a hazy void, a vast stark valley that seemed streaked and ridged and +canyoned, an abyss into which veils of rain were dropping and over which +broken clouds hung, pierced by red and gold rays. + +Death Valley! Far down and far away still, yet confounding at first +sight! I gazed spellbound. It oppressed my heart. Nielsen stood like a +statue, silent, absorbed for a moment, then he strode on. I followed, +and every second saw more and different aspects, that could not, +however, change the first stunning impression. Immense, unreal, weird! I +went on down the widening canyon, looking into that changing void. How +full of color! It smoked. The traceries of streams or shining white +washes brightened the floor of the long dark pit. Patches and plains of +white, borax flats or alkali, showed up like snow. A red haze, sinister +and sombre, hung over the eastern ramparts of this valley, and over the +western drooped gray veils of rain, like thinnest lacy clouds, through +which gleams of the sun shone. + +Nielsen plodded on, mindful of our mules. But I lingered, and at last +checked my reluctant steps at an open high point with commanding and +magnificent view. As I did not attempt the impossible--to write down +thoughts and sensations--afterward I could remember only a few. How +desolate and grand! The far-away, lonely and terrible places of the +earth were the most beautiful and elevating. Life's little day seemed so +easy to understand, so pitiful. As the sun began to set and the +storm-clouds moved across it this wondrous scene darkened, changed every +moment, brightened, grew full of luminous red light and then streaked by +golden gleams. The tips of the Panamint Mountains came out silver above +the purple clouds. At sunset the moment was glorious--dark, forbidding, +dim, weird, dismal, yet still tinged with gold. Not like any other +scene! Dante's Inferno! Valley of Shadows! Canyon of Purple Veils! + +When the sun had set and all that upheaved and furrowed world of rock +had received a mantle of gray, and a slumberous sulphurous ruddy haze +slowly darkened to purple and black, then I realized more fully that I +was looking down into Death Valley. + +Twilight was stealing down when I caught up with Nielsen. He had +selected for our camp a protected nook near where the canyon floor bore +some patches of sage, the stalks and roots of which would serve for +firewood. We unpacked, fed the mules some grain, pitched our little +tent and made our bed all in short order. But it was dark long before +we had supper. During the meal we talked a little, but afterward, when +the chores were done, and the mules had become quiet, and the strange +thick silence had settled down upon us, we did not talk at all. + +The night was black, with sky mostly obscured by clouds. A pale haze +marked the west where the after glow had faded; in the south one radiant +star crowned a mountain peak. I strolled away in the darkness and sat +down upon a stone. How intense the silence! Dead, vast, sepulchre-like, +dreaming, waiting, a silence of ages, burdened with the history of the +past, awful! I strained my ears for sound of insect or rustle of sage or +drop of weathered rock. The soft cool desert wind was soundless. This +silence had something terrifying in it, making me a man alone on the +earth. The great spaces, the wild places as they had been millions of +years before! I seemed to divine how through them man might develop from +savage to a god, and how alas! he might go back again. + +When I returned to camp Nielsen had gone to bed and the fire had burned +low. I threw on some branches of sage. The fire blazed up. But it seemed +different from other camp-fires. No cheer, no glow, no sparkle! Perhaps +it was owing to scant and poor wood. Still I thought it was owing as +much to the place. The sadness, the loneliness, the desolateness of this +place weighed upon the camp-fire the same as it did upon my heart. + +We got up at five-thirty. At dawn the sky was a cold leaden gray, with a +dull gold and rose in the east. A hard wind, eager and nipping, blew up +the canyon. At six o'clock the sky brightened somewhat and the day did +not promise so threatening. + +An hour later we broke camp. Traveling in the early morning was +pleasant and we made good time down the winding canyon, arriving at +Furnace Creek about noon, where we halted to rest. This stream of warm +water flowed down from a gully that headed up in the Funeral Mountains. +It had a disagreeable taste, somewhat acrid and soapy. A green thicket +of brush was indeed welcome to the eye. It consisted of a rank coarse +kind of grass, and arrowweed, mesquite, and tamarack. The last named +bore a pink fuzzy blossom, not unlike pussy-willow, which was quite +fragrant. Here the deadness of the region seemed further enlivened by +several small birds, speckled and gray, two ravens, and a hawk. They all +appeared to be hunting food. On a ridge above Furnace Creek we came upon +a spring of poison water. It was clear, sparkling, with a greenish cast, +and it deposited a white crust on the margins. Nielsen, kicking around +in the sand, unearthed a skull, bleached and yellow, yet evidently not +so very old. Some thirsty wanderer had taken his last drink at that +deceiving spring. The gruesome and the beautiful, the tragic and the +sublime, go hand in hand down the naked shingle of this desolate desert. + +While tramping around in the neighborhood of Furnace Creek I happened +upon an old almost obliterated trail. It led toward the ridges of clay, +and when I had climbed it a little ways I began to get an impression +that the slopes on the other side must run down into a basin or canyon. +So I climbed to the top. + +The magnificent scenes of desert and mountain, like the splendid things +of life, must be climbed for. In this instance I was suddenly and +stunningly confronted by a yellow gulf of cone-shaped and fan-shaped +ridges, all bare crinkly clay, of gold, of amber, of pink, of bronze, of +cream, all tapering down to round-knobbed lower ridges, bleak and +barren, yet wonderfully beautiful in their stark purity of denudation; +until at last far down between two widely separated hills shone, dim and +blue and ghastly, with shining white streaks like silver streams--the +Valley of Death. Then beyond it climbed the league-long red slope, +merging into the iron-buttressed base of the Panamint Range, and here +line on line, and bulge on bulge rose the bold benches, and on up the +unscalable outcroppings of rock, like colossal ribs of the earth, on and +up the steep slopes to where their density of blue black color began to +thin out with streaks of white, and thence upward to the last noble +height, where the cold pure snow gleamed against the sky. + +I descended into this yellow maze, this world of gullies and ridges +where I found it difficult to keep from getting lost. I did lose my +bearings, but as my boots made deep imprints in the soft clay I knew it +would be easy to back-track my trail. After a while this labyrinthine +series of channels and dunes opened into a wide space enclosed on three +sides by denuded slopes, mostly yellow. These slopes were smooth, +graceful, symmetrical, with tiny tracery of erosion, and each appeared +to retain its own color, yellow or cinnamon or mauve. But they were +always dominated by a higher one of a different color. And this mystic +region sloped and slanted to a great amphitheater that was walled on the +opposite side by a mountain of bare earth, of every hue, and of a +thousand ribbed and scalloped surfaces. At its base the golds and +russets and yellows were strongest, but ascending its slopes were +changing colors--a dark beautiful mouse color on one side and a strange +pearly cream on the other. Between these great corners of the curve +climbed ridges of gray and heliotrope and amber, to meet wonderful veins +of green--green as the sea in sunlight--and tracery of white--and on the +bold face of this amphitheater, high up, stood out a zigzag belt of dull +red, the stain of which had run down to tinge the other hues. Above all +this wondrous coloration upheaved the bare breast of the mountain, +growing darker with earthy browns, up to the gray old rock ramparts. + +This place affected me so strangely, so irresistibly that I remained +there a long time. Something terrible had happened there to men. I felt +that. Something tragic was going on right then--the wearing down, the +devastation of the old earth. How plainly that could be seen! +Geologically it was more remarkable to me than the Grand Canyon. But it +was the appalling meaning, the absolutely indescribable beauty that +overcame me. I thought of those who had been inspiration to me in my +work, and I suffered a pang that they could not be there to see and feel +with me. + +On my way out of this amphitheater a hard wind swooped down over the +slopes, tearing up the colored dust in sheets and clouds. It seemed to +me each gully had its mystic pall of color. I lost no time climbing out. +What a hot choking ordeal! But I never would have missed it even had I +known I would get lost. Looking down again the scene was vastly changed. +A smoky weird murky hell with the dull sun gleaming magenta-hued through +the shifting pall of dust! + +In the afternoon we proceeded leisurely, through an atmosphere growing +warmer and denser, down to the valley, reaching it at dusk. We followed +the course of Furnace Creek and made camp under some cottonwood trees, +on the west slope of the valley. + +The wind blew a warm gale all night. I lay awake a while and slept with +very little covering. Toward dawn the gale died away. I was up at +five-thirty. The morning broke fine, clear, balmy. A flare of pale +gleaming light over the Funeral Range heralded the sunrise. The tips of +the higher snow-capped Panamints were rose colored, and below them the +slopes were red. The bulk of the range showed dark. All these features +gradually brightened until the sun came up. How blazing and intense! The +wind began to blow again. Under the cottonwoods with their rustling +leaves, and green so soothing to the eye, it was very pleasant. + +Beyond our camp stood green and pink thickets of tamarack, and some dark +velvety green alfalfa fields, made possible by the spreading of Furnace +Creek over the valley slope. A man lived there, and raised this alfalfa +for the mules of the borax miners. He lived there alone and his was +indeed a lonely, wonderful, and terrible life. At this season a few +Shoshone Indians were camped near, helping him in his labors. This lone +rancher's name was Denton, and he turned out to be a brother of a +Denton, hunter and guide, whom I had met in Lower California. + +[Illustration: DESERT GRAVES] + +[Illustration: THE GHASTLY SWEEP OF DEATH VALLEY] + +Like all desert men, used to silence, Denton talked with difficulty, but +the content of his speech made up for its brevity. He told us about the +wanderers and prospectors he had rescued from death by starvation and +thirst; he told us about the terrific noonday heat of summer; and about +the incredible and horrible midnight furnace gales that swept down the +valley. With the mercury at one hundred and twenty-five degrees at +midnight, below the level of the sea, when these furnace blasts bore +down upon him, it was just all he could do to live. No man could spend +many summers there. As for white women--Death Valley was fatal to them. +The Indians spent the summers up on the mountains. Denton said heat +affected men differently. Those who were meat eaters or alcohol +drinkers, could not survive. Perfect heart and lungs were necessary to +stand the heat and density of atmosphere below sea level. He told of a +man who had visited his cabin, and had left early in the day, +vigorous and strong. A few hours later he was found near the oasis +unable to walk, crawling on his hands and knees, dragging a full canteen +of water. He never knew what ailed him. It might have been heat, for the +thermometer registered one hundred and thirty-five, and it might have +been poison gas. Another man, young, of heavy and powerful build, lost +seventy pounds weight in less than two days, and was nearly dead when +found. The heat of Death Valley quickly dried up blood, tissue, bone. +Denton told of a prospector who started out at dawn strong and rational, +to return at sunset so crazy that he had to be tied to keep him out of +the water. To have drunk his fill then would have killed him! He had to +be fed water by spoonful. Another wanderer came staggering into the +oasis, blind, with horrible face, and black swollen tongue protruding. +He could not make a sound. He also had to be roped, as if he were a mad +steer. + +[Illustration: IN THE CENTER OF THE SALT-INCRUSTED FLOOR OF DEATH +VALLEY, THREE HUNDRED FEET BELOW SEA LEVEL] + +I met only one prospector during my stay in Death Valley. He camped with +us. A rather undersized man he was, yet muscular, with brown wrinkled +face and narrow dim eyes. He seemed to be smiling to himself most of the +time. He liked to talk to his burros. He was exceedingly interesting. +Once he nearly died of thirst, having gone from noon one day till next +morning without water. He said he fell down often during this ordeal, +but did not lose his senses. Finally the burros saved his life. This old +fellow had been across Death Valley every month in the year. July was +the worst. In that month crossing should not be attempted during the +middle of the day. + +I made the acquaintance of the Shoshone Indians, or rather through +Nielsen I met them. Nielsen had a kindly, friendly way with Indians. +There were half a dozen families, living in squalid tents. The braves +worked in the fields for Denton and the squaws kept to the shade with +their numerous children. They appeared to be poor. Certainly they were a +ragged unpicturesque group. Nielsen and I visited them, taking an +armload of canned fruit, and boxes of sweet crackers, which they +received with evident joy. Through this overture I got a peep into one +of the tents. The simplicity and frugality of the desert Piute or Navajo +were here wanting. These children of the open wore white men's apparel +and ate white men's food; and they even had a cook stove and a sewing +machine in their tent. With all that they were trying to live like +Indians. For me the spectacle was melancholy. Another manifestation +added to my long list of degeneration of the Indians by the whites! The +tent was a buzzing beehive of flies. I never before saw so many. In a +corner I saw a naked Indian baby asleep on a goat skin, all his brown +warm-tinted skin spotted black with flies. + +Later in the day one of the Indian men called upon us at our camp. I was +surprised to hear him use good English. He said he had been educated in +a government school in California. From him I learned considerable about +Death Valley. As he was about to depart, on the way to his labor in the +fields, he put his hand in his ragged pocket and drew forth an old +beaded hat band, and with calm dignity, worthy of any gift, he made me a +present of it. Then he went on his way. The incident touched me. I had +been kind. The Indian was not to be outdone. How that reminded me of the +many instances of pride in Indians! Who yet has ever told the story of +the Indian--the truth, the spirit, the soul of his tragedy? + +Nielsen and I climbed high up the west slope to the top of a gravel +ridge swept clean and packed hard by the winds. Here I sat down while my +companion tramped curiously around. At my feet I found a tiny flower, so +tiny as to almost defy detection. The color resembled sage-gray and it +had the fragrance of sage. Hard to find and wonderful to see--was its +tiny blossom! The small leaves were perfectly formed, very soft, veined +and scalloped, with a fine fuzz and a glistening sparkle. That desert +flower of a day, in its isolation and fragility, yet its unquenchable +spirit to live, was as great to me as the tremendous reddening bulk of +the Funeral Mountains looming so sinisterly over me. + +Then I saw some large bats with white heads flitting around in zigzag +flights--assuredly new and strange creatures to me. + +I had come up there to this high ridge to take advantage of the bleak +lonely spot commanding a view of valley and mountains. Before I could +compose myself to watch the valley I made the discovery that near me +were six low gravelly mounds. Graves! One had two stones at head and +foot. Another had no mark at all. The one nearest me had for the head a +flat piece of board, with lettering so effaced by weather that I could +not decipher the inscription. The bones of a horse lay littered about +between the graves. What a lonely place for graves! Death Valley seemed +to be one vast sepulchre. What had been the lives and deaths of these +people buried here? Lonely, melancholy, nameless graves upon the windy +desert slope! + +By this time the long shadows had begun to fall. Sunset over Death +Valley! A golden flare burned over the Panamints--long tapering notched +mountains with all their rugged conformation showing. Above floated gold +and gray and silver-edged clouds--below shone a whorl of dusky, ruddy +bronze haze, gradually thickening. Dim veils of heat still rose from the +pale desert valley. As I watched all before me seemed to change and be +shrouded in purple. How bold and desolate a scene! What vast scale and +tremendous dimension! The clouds paled, turned rosy for a moment with +the afterglow, then deepened into purple gloom. A sombre smoky sunset, +as if this Death Valley was the gateway of hell, and its sinister shades +were upflung from fire. + +The desert day was done and now the desert twilight descended. Twilight +of hazy purple fell over the valley of shadows. The black bold lines of +mountains ran across the sky and down into the valley and up on the +other side. A buzzard sailed low in the foreground--fitting emblem of +life in all that wilderness of suggested death. This fleeting hour was +tranquil and sad. What little had it to do with the destiny of man! +Death Valley was only a ragged rent of the old earth, from which men in +their folly and passion, had sought to dig forth golden treasure. The +air held a solemn stillness. Peace! How it rested my troubled soul! I +felt that I was myself here, far different from my habitual self. Why +had I longed to see Death Valley? What did I want of the desert that was +naked, red, sinister, sombre, forbidding, ghastly, stark, dim and dark +and dismal, the abode of silence and loneliness, the proof of death, +decay, devastation and destruction, the majestic sublimity of +desolation? The answer was that I sought the awful, the appalling and +terrible because they harked me back to a primitive day where my blood +and bones were bequeathed their heritage of the elements. That was the +secret of the eternal fascination the desert exerted upon all men. It +carried them back. It inhibited thought. It brought up the age-old +sensations, so that I could feel, though I did not know it then, once +again the all-satisfying state of the savage in nature. + +When I returned to camp night had fallen. The evening star stood high in +the pale sky, all alone and difficult to see, yet the more beautiful for +that. The night appeared to be warmer or perhaps it was because no wind +blew. Nielsen got supper, and ate most of it, for I was not hungry. As I +sat by the camp-fire a flock of little bats, the smallest I had ever +seen, darted from the wood-pile nearby and flew right in my face. They +had no fear of man or fire. Their wings made a soft swishing sound. +Later I heard the trill of frogs, which was the last sound I might have +expected to hear in Death Valley. A sweet high-pitched melodious trill +it reminded me of the music made by frogs in the Tamaulipas Jungle of +Mexico. Every time I awakened that night, and it was often, I heard this +trill. Once, too, sometime late, my listening ear caught faint mournful +notes of a killdeer. How strange, and still sweeter than the trill! What +a touch to the infinite silence and loneliness! A killdeer--bird of the +swamps and marshes--what could he be doing in arid and barren Death +Valley? Nature is mysterious and inscrutable. + +Next morning the marvel of nature was exemplified even more strikingly. +Out on the hard gravel-strewn slope I found some more tiny flowers of a +day. One was a white daisy, very frail and delicate on long thin stem +with scarcely any leaves. Another was a yellow flower, with four petals, +a pale miniature California poppy. Still another was a purple-red +flower, almost as large as a buttercup, with dark green leaves. Last and +tiniest of all were infinitely fragile pink and white blossoms, on very +flat plants, smiling wanly up from the desolate earth. + +Nielsen and I made known to Denton our purpose to walk across the +valley. He advised against it. Not that the heat was intense at this +season, he explained, but there were other dangers, particularly the +brittle salty crust of the sink-hole. Nevertheless we were not deterred +from our purpose. + +So with plenty of water in canteens and a few biscuits in our pockets +we set out. I saw the heat veils rising from the valley floor, at that +point one hundred and seventy-eight feet below sea level. The heat +lifted in veils, like thin smoke. Denton had told us that in summer the +heat came in currents, in waves. It blasted leaves, burned trees to +death as well as men. Prospectors watched for the leaden haze that +thickened over the mountains, knowing then no man could dare the +terrible sun. That day would be a hazed and glaring hell, leaden, +copper, with sun blazing a sky of molten iron. + +A long sandy slope of mesquite extended down to the bare crinkly floor +of the valley, and here the descent to a lower level was scarcely +perceptible. The walking was bad. Little mounds in the salty crust made +it hard to place a foot on the level. This crust appeared fairly strong. +But when it rang hollow under our boots, then I stepped very cautiously. +The color was a dirty gray and yellow. Far ahead I could see a dazzling +white plain that looked like frost or a frozen river. The atmosphere was +deceptive, making this plain seem far away and then close at hand. + +The excessively difficult walking and the thickness of the air tired me, +so I plumped myself down to rest, and used my note-book as a means to +conceal from the tireless Nielsen that I was fatigued. Always I found +this a very efficient excuse, and for that matter it was profitable for +me. I have forgotten more than I have ever written. + +Rather overpowering, indeed, was it to sit on the floor of Death Valley, +miles from the slopes that appeared so far away. It was flat, salty, +alkali or borax ground, crusted and cracked. The glare hurt my eyes. I +felt moist, hot, oppressed, in spite of a rather stiff wind. A dry odor +pervaded the air, slightly like salty dust. Thin dust devils whirled on +the bare flats. A valley-wide mirage shone clear as a mirror along the +desert floor to the west, strange, deceiving, a thing both unreal and +beautiful. The Panamints towered a wrinkled red grisly mass, broken by +rough canyons, with long declines of talus like brown glaciers. Seamed +and scarred! Indestructible by past ages, yet surely wearing to ruin! +From this point I could not see the snow on the peaks. The whole +mountain range seemed an immense red barrier of beetling rock. The +Funeral Range was farther away and therefore more impressive. Its effect +was stupendous. Leagues of brown chocolate slopes, scarred by slashes of +yellow and cream, and shadowed black by sailing clouds, led up to the +magnificently peaked and jutted summits. + +Splendid as this was and reluctant as I felt to leave I soon joined +Nielsen, and we proceeded onward. At last we reached the white winding +plain, that had resembled a frozen river, and which from afar had looked +so ghastly and stark. We found it to be a perfectly smooth stratum of +salt glistening as if powdered. It was not solid, not stable. At +pressure of a boot it shook like jelly. Under the white crust lay a +yellow substance that was wet. Here appeared an obstacle we had not +calculated upon. Nielsen ventured out on it and his feet sank in several +inches. I did not like the wave of the crust. It resembled thin ice +under a weight. Presently I ventured to take a few steps, and did not +sink in so deeply or make such depression in the crust as Nielsen. We +returned to the solid edge and deliberated. Nielsen said that by +stepping quickly we could cross without any great risk, though it +appeared reasonable that by standing still a person would sink into the +substance. + +"Well, Nielsen, you go ahead," I said, with an attempt at lightness. +"You weigh one hundred and ninety. If you go through I'll turn back!" + +Nielsen started with a laugh. The man courted peril. The bright face of +danger must have been beautiful and alluring to him. I started after +him--caught up with him--and stayed beside him. I could not have walked +behind him over that strip of treacherous sink-hole. If I could have +done so the whole adventure would have been meaningless to me. +Nevertheless I was frightened. I felt the prickle of my skin, the +stiffening of my hair, as well as the cold tingling thrills along my +veins. + +This place was the lowest point of the valley, in that particular +location, and must have been upwards of two hundred feet below sea +level. The lowest spot, called the Sink Hole, lay some miles distant, +and was the terminus of this river of salty white. + +We crossed it in safety. On the other side extended a long flat of +upheaved crusts of salt and mud, full of holes and pitfalls, an +exceedingly toilsome and painful place to travel, and for all we could +tell, dangerous too. I had all I could do to watch my feet and find +surfaces to hold my steps. Eventually we crossed this broken field, +reaching the edge of the gravel slope, where we were very glad indeed to +rest. + +Denton had informed us that the distance was seven miles across the +valley at the mouth of Furnace Creek. I had thought it seemed much less +than that. But after I had toiled across it I was convinced that it was +much more. It had taken us hours. How the time had sped! For this reason +we did not tarry long on that side. + +Facing the sun we found the return trip more formidable. Hot indeed it +was--hot enough for me to imagine how terrible Death Valley would be in +July or August. On all sides the mountains stood up dim and obscure and +distant in haze. The heat veils lifted in ripples, and any object not +near at hand seemed illusive. Nielsen set a pace for me on this return +trip. I was quicker and surer of foot than he, but he had more +endurance. I lost strength while he kept his unimpaired. So often he had +to wait for me. Once when I broke through the crust he happened to be +close at hand and quickly hauled me out. I got one foot wet with some +acid fluid. We peered down into the murky hole. Nielsen quoted a +prospector's saying: "Forty feet from hell!" That broken sharp crust of +salt afforded the meanest traveling I had ever experienced. Slopes of +weathered rock that slip and slide are bad; cacti, and especially choya +cacti, are worse: the jagged and corrugated surfaces of lava are still +more hazardous and painful. But this cracked floor of Death Valley, with +its salt crusts standing on end, like pickets of a fence, beat any place +for hard going that either Nielsen or I ever had encountered. I ruined +my boots, skinned my shins, cut my hands. How those salt cuts stung! We +crossed the upheaved plain, then the strip of white, and reached the +crinkly floor of yellow salt. The last hour taxed my endurance almost to +the limit. When we reached the edge of the sand and the beginning of the +slope I was hotter and thirstier than I had ever been in my life. It +pleased me to see Nielsen wringing wet and panting. He drank a quart of +water apparently in one gulp. And it was significant that I took the +longest and deepest drink of water that I had ever had. + +We reached camp at the end of this still hot summer day. Never had a +camp seemed so welcome! What a wonderful thing it was to earn and +appreciate and realize rest! The cottonwood leaves were rustling; bees +were humming in the tamarack blossoms. I lay in the shade, resting my +burning feet and achiag bones, and I watched Nielsen as he whistled +over the camp chores. Then I heard the sweet song of a meadow lark, and +after that the melodious deep note of a swamp blackbird. These birds +evidently were traveling north and had tarried at the oasis. + +Lying there I realized that I had come to love the silence, the +loneliness, the serenity, even the tragedy of this valley of shadows. +Death Valley was one place that could never be popular with men. It had +been set apart for the hardy diggers for earthen treasure, and for the +wanderers of the wastelands--men who go forth to seek and to find and to +face their souls. Perhaps most of them found death. But there was a +death in life. Desert travelers learned the secret that men lived too +much in the world--that in silence and loneliness and desolation there +was something infinite, something hidden from the crowd. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales of lonely trails, by Zane Grey + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12225 *** |