1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
<head>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" />
<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Jack, the Young Ranchman, by George Bird Grinnell</title>
<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
<style type="text/css">
body {
margin-left: 15%;
margin-right: 15%;
}
h1,h2,h4 {
text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
clear: both;}
h1 {margin-top: 2em;}
h2 {margin-top: 2em;
font-weight: bold;
line-height: 1.5;}
.title1
{
text-align: center;
font-weight: bold;
font-size: 130%;
margin-top: 2em;
}
#half-title
{
text-align: center;
font-size: large;
}
p {
margin-top: .75em;
text-align: justify;
margin-bottom: .75em;
}
.p4 {margin-top: 4em;}
.p6 {margin-top: 6em;}
hr {
width: 30%;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
margin-left: auto;
margin-right: auto;
clear: both;
}
hr.c25 {width: 25%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;}
hr.c15 {width: 15%;}
div.header
{
page-break-before: always;
margin-top: 4em;
}
table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
#TOC {padding: 1em;}
#LOI {padding: 1em;}
@media screen, print
{
#TOC,
#LOI
{
margin-left: auto;
margin-right: auto;
}
}
.tdr {text-align: right;}
.tdr3 {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;}
.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
/* visibility: hidden; */
position: absolute;
right: 5%;
font-size: 0.6em;
font-variant: normal;
font-style: normal;
text-align: right;
padding: 0.3em;
} /* page numbers */
.pagenumh { display: none; }
.center {text-align: center;}
.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;}
.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;}
/* Images */
.figcenter {
margin: auto;
text-align: center;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
.mw {max-width: 100%;}
.caption p
{
text-align: center;
text-indent: 0;
margin: 0.25em 0;
font-size: 90%;
margin-top: .75em;
margin-bottom: .75em;
}
/* Transcriber's notes */
.transnote
{
margin: auto;
background-color: #F0F8FF;
border: 1px solid;
padding: 1em;
width: 22em;
}
.small {font-size: 70%;}
.medium {font-size: 87%;}
.large {font-size: 130%;}
.x-large {font-size: 225%;}
@media print, handheld
{
hr.c15
{
width: 15%;
margin-left: 42.5%;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
hr.c30
{
width: 30%;
margin-left: 35%;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
hr.c25
{
width: 25%;
margin-left: 37.5%;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
}
@media screen
{
#half-title
{
margin: 6em 0;
}
h1,h2
{
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
h1
{margin-top: 2em;}
h2
{
margin-top: 4em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
}
h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; }
hr.full { width: 100%;
margin-top: 3em;
margin-bottom: 0em;
margin-left: auto;
margin-right: auto;
height: 4px;
border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */
border-style: solid;
border-color: #000000;
clear: both; }
</style>
</head>
<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45720 ***</div>
<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jack, the Young Ranchman, by George Bird
Grinnell</h1>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<div class="transnote">
<p>Transcriber's note:<br />
Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See
<a href="https://archive.org/details/jackyoungranchma00grinrich">https://archive.org/details/jackyoungranchma00grinrich</a>. Please see the end of this text for further notes.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<hr class="full" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">i</a></span></p>
<p id="half-title">JACK, THE YOUNG RANCHMAN</p>
<p><a id="Page_ii"></a></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">iii</a></span></p>
<div><a name="jack_could_not_understand_why_the_calf_had_not_been_choked_to_death" id="jack_could_not_understand_why_the_calf_had_not_been_choked_to_death"></a></div>
<div class="figcenter">
<img class="mw" src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" />
<div class="caption">
<p>"JACK COULD NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THE CALF HAD NOT BEEN CHOKED TO DEATH."—<i>Page <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</i></p>
</div></div>
<hr class="c30" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">iv</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h1>JACK,<br />
THE YOUNG RANCHMAN</h1>
</div>
<p class="center small">OR</p>
<p class="center">A BOY'S ADVENTURES IN THE ROCKIES</p>
<p class="p4 center small">BY<br />
<span class="large">GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL</span><br />
<span class="small"><i>Author of "Pawnee Hero Stories," "Blackfoot Lodge Tales," Etc.</i></span></p>
<div class="figcenter">
<img class="mw" src="images/logo.jpg" alt="" />
</div>
<p class="center"><span class="small">NEW YORK</span><br />
<span class="large">FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY</span><br />
PUBLISHERS</p>
<hr class="c25" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">v</a></span></p>
<p class="p6 center">Copyright, 1899,<br />
<span class="smcap">By Frederick A. Stokes Company</span></p>
<p class="center p4"><i>Nineteenth Printing</i></p>
<p class="p4 center"><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></p>
<hr class="c25" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">vi</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
</div>
<p>Far away in the west, close to the backbone of
the continent, lies the sage-brush country where the
happenings described in the following pages took place.</p>
<p>The story is about real things and about real people,
many of whom are alive to-day. The ranch lies in the
Rocky Mountains, in a great basin, walled in by mountains
on every hand, and 7,500 feet above the level of
the sea.</p>
<p>The life there was exciting. There was good hunting—antelope
and elk and bears and buffalo; and, far
away—yet near enough to be very real—there were
wild Indians.</p>
<p>It is a pleasure to review those days in memory.</p>
<p><a id="Page_vii"></a></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
</div>
<table id="TOC" summary="contents">
<tr>
<td class="small">CHAPTER</td>
<td> </td>
<td class="small">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I.</td>
<td>Jack Danvers</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td>Prairie Wolves and Antelope</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III.</td>
<td>The Road to the Ranch</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td>A Grizzly Killed</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td>Roping and Riding</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td>An Ancient Massacre</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII.</td>
<td>Hugh Chased by Indians</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td>Jack's First Antelope</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX.</td>
<td>John Monroe, Halfbreed</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X.</td>
<td>Cows in a Snow-drift</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI.</td>
<td>Jack's First Elk</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII.</td>
<td>Antelope Kids</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIII.</td>
<td>Jack Kills a Lion</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIV.</td>
<td>Wolves and Wolf-hounds</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XV.</td>
<td>Digging out a Wolf's Den</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVI.</td>
<td>Birds and their Nests</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVII.</td>
<td>Hunting on the Mountain</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVIII.</td>
<td>With the Horse Roundup</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIX.</td>
<td>Busting Broncos</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XX.</td>
<td>A Trip to Smith's Hole</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXI.</td>
<td>Jack's First Camp-fire</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXII.</td>
<td>A Load of Blacktail</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIII.</td>
<td>Occupations of a Cripple</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIV.</td>
<td>A Berrying Party</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXV.</td>
<td>An Elk Hunt</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVI.</td>
<td>Jack Rides a Wild Horse</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVII.</td>
<td>A Mysterious Cave</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td>
<td>What the Cave Held</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIX.</td>
<td>Swiftfoot in New York</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p class="title1">ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
<table id="LOI" summary="illustrations">
<tr>
<td><a href="#jack_could_not_understand_why_the_calf_had_not_been_choked_to_death">JACK COULD NOT UNDERSTAND WHY<br /> THE CALF HAD NOT BEEN CHOKED TO DEATH.</a></td>
<td class="tdr3">frontispiece</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><a href="#jack_crept_up_past_hugh_and_took_a_careful_aim">JACK CREPT UP PAST HUGH ... AND<br /> TOOK A CAREFUL AIM.</a></td>
<td class="tdr3">84</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><a href="#the_animal_launched_itself_from_its_perch_full_towards_jack">THE ANIMAL LAUNCHED ITSELF FROM<br /> ITS PERCH FULL TOWARDS JACK.</a></td>
<td class="tdr3">135</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><a href="#raised_his_rifle_to_his_shoulder_and_fired">RAISED HIS RIFLE TO HIS SHOULDER AND FIRED.</a></td>
<td class="tdr3">260</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><a id="Page_ix"></a></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span></p>
<p class="title1">JACK, THE YOUNG RANCHMAN</p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER I<br />
<span class="medium">JACK DANVERS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>The door-bell rang, and from the library Jack
heard the soft tread of Aunt Hannah, as she walked
through the hall to answer it. There was a murmur
of voices, and then Hannah's tones, loud and
high pitched: "Guns! no indeedy, chile, ye can't
leave 'em here. Not here, chile. Take 'em away.
No, I don't keer if they is Mr. Sturgis'. Go 'way.
I won't take 'em. Gib 'em to the policeman; ye
can't get me to tetch 'em. Go 'way."</p>
<p>"What is it, Hannah?" said Jack, as he went to
the door.</p>
<p>"Don't ye come here, honey. This man here,
he's got some guns he wants to leave. Says they're
for your Uncle Will. Don't ye go near 'em."</p>
<p>"These are two rifles that Mr. Genez has been
sighting. Mr. Sturgis told him to deliver them here
to-day," said the messenger.</p>
<p>"All right; give 'em to me," said Jack, as he
took them; and the messenger ran down the steps.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span>
"Oh look out, honey, look out," said Aunt
Hannah, shrinking away from Jack; "they'll go off
and kill you, sure."</p>
<p>"Pshaw, Hannah," said Jack, "what are you
talking about? "They wouldn't go off of themselves,
and anyhow they ain't loaded."</p>
<p>"There, what'd I tell ye?" cried Aunt Hannah.
"Do be keerful. Many's the time I heard your
grandpaw say them's the most dang'ous kind. He
allus did say that it was the guns that wan't loaded
that went off and killed folks. 'Deed he did."</p>
<p>Jack took the guns up to his uncle's room, and
put them on the bed, and went back to the library.
He had hardly got there, and gone to the window
to look out into the darkening street, when he heard
the front door close and a quick, light footfall in
the hall.</p>
<p>"Oh, Uncle Will," he said, "is that you?"</p>
<p>"Hello, Jack, are you there?" was the reply. "I
want to speak to you," and a moment later Mr.
Sturgis entered the room and stepped over to the
fireplace.</p>
<p>"Well, Jack," said he, "are you ready to start in
to-morrow to be a cowboy?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Uncle Will, I'm all ready," was the
reply.</p>
<p>"You're sure you don't want to back out now?
You know," added Mr. Sturgis, "that you may see
some rough times. Some days you will be wet and
cold and hungry, and will wish that you were in a
good house and by a warm fire, with a hot meal
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span>
ready for you. It isn't all fun and play and good
times out on the ranch."</p>
<p>"I know that, Uncle Will," answered Jack, "but
there must be plenty of fun, too, and I think I am
going to like it."</p>
<p>"I believe so, too, my boy, but I want you to
remember that there are two sides to almost everything.
You will have lots of fun on the ranch, and
that is what you think most of now, but you must
remember also that it will not be all pleasure and no
pain."</p>
<p>"Why, Uncle Will, don't you suppose I know
that? A fellow's bound to be too hot or too cold
sometimes, and to hurt himself now and then, but I
guess I can stand it, and I don't think you need feel
afraid that I'll want to come home before I have
to." As he said this, Jack looked quite injured, and
stood very straight.</p>
<p>"No, no, my boy. I don't doubt your pluck;
but I want you to understand well before we start
what it is that you have to look forward to.</p>
<p>"Now," continued Mr. Sturgis, "everything is
ready for our start, and all we have to do to-morrow
is to go to the train and get into the sleeping-car."</p>
<p>"Let's sit down in front of the fire and talk a
little, Uncle Will. You have plenty of time before
dinner, haven't you?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I have half an hour before it will be time
to dress; I'll smoke a pipe and talk to you for that
time. Now, ask your questions."</p>
<p>Jack Danvers was a New York boy about fourteen
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span>
years old. He lived in East 38th Street, near Park
Avenue, and Mrs. Danver's brother, Will Sturgis,
had a ranch out on the Plains, on which were many
horses and cattle. Mr. Sturgis spent the summer
on the ranch, but often came to New York for the
winter. The ranch was in a wild country, where
there were bears and elk and deer and antelope, and
sometimes buffalo and Indians.</p>
<p>Jack was not a very strong boy. He was slim
and pale and spent most of his time reading, instead
of playing out of doors as all boys should. In the
summer when he was in the country and in the open
air he grew brown and hearty, but through the
winter he became slender and white again.</p>
<p>Jack had no brothers and sisters, and his parents
were often anxious about his health. They had
thought several times of moving to the country to
live, so that Jack might have an out-door life all the
year round, but Mr. Danvers' business was so confining
that he was obliged to be in town constantly,
and Mrs. Danvers was not willing to leave him.</p>
<p>Dr. Robertson, whom Mr. Danvers had consulted,
had given much thought to the boy's case, and at
last had advised his mother to send him out to his
uncle's ranch for a year, or at least for a summer,
telling her that a few months of rough life in the
open air would do him more good than all the medicines
in the world. When Dr. Robertson told her
this, Mrs. Danvers at first thought the advice dreadful.
She said, "Oh, doctor, I couldn't think of
doing that. Why the life out there is one of constant
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span>
danger and hardship. There are cowboys and
Indians and wild animals of all sorts. I should
never have an easy moment while Jack was away."</p>
<p>"My dear madam," said the doctor, "medicine is
often very unpleasant to take, unpleasant for the
patient and sometimes for his friends as well. I can
build your boy's system up from time to time with
tonics, but I can do him no permanent good. My
medicines are only palliatives; the real trouble is
with his environment. If the conditions of his life
are changed, he will be certain to throw off the
lassitude and weakness which he now feels, and to
become a stout and hearty boy about whose general
health you need have no farther concern; but it is
important that now, when eight or ten years of
schooling and study are before him, he should have a
well-nourished body. I know of nothing that promise
so much in this direction as a course of open-air
life and vigorous exercise. Now he stays too much
in the house and cares for nothing but books. This
is not natural for a boy of his age. He ought to be
full of animal spirits and to be working them off by
climbing trees, running races and fighting. Think
this matter over carefully, Mrs. Danvers, and let
me know what you and your husband decide."</p>
<p>After much thought and many long talks, the
parents had at last made up their minds to let their
boy go. All preparations had been made, and on
the next day Jack and his uncle were to take the
train for the Far West.</p>
<p>"Well, Uncle Will," said Jack, "first, I want to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span>
know how long it will take us to get out to the
ranch?"</p>
<p>"Five days, unless something happens to delay
us," said Mr. Sturgis.</p>
<p>"Next," said Jack, "I want to know what I can
do on the ranch. I want to help in the work, you
know, but I don't know how to ride, or how to do
anything that you have to do out there among the
cattle and horses. I'll have to learn a great deal
before I can be of any use."</p>
<p>"Yes, of course, you will have to learn. You
will pick up riding and roping readily enough, but
to learn the ways of the prairie and the mountains
is not so easy, and unless you are with some one
that knows all that and tries to teach you, it will
take you a long time to learn. You can easily learn
the cowboy part of your education from almost any
of us out at the ranch, but there is only one man
there who can teach you how to become a good
mountain man; that is old Hugh Johnson. He
has lived on the plains and in the mountains for
more than forty years, and has hunted, trapped and
fought Indians from the Mississippi to the Pacific,
and from the Saskatchewan to the Rio Grande.
He knows the plains and the mountains better than
any one I ever saw, and is like an Indian for reading
sign."</p>
<p>"What do you mean by reading sign, Uncle
Will?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Sign is a word which may mean a great many
things. Sign may be the tracks of animals, or of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span>
people, or the smoke of fires, or an old camp, or
clothing dropped by some one who has passed along.
Anything that shows that animals or people have
been in a certain place is called sign. Sign may be old
or fresh, and there is always something about it that
should tell you more than the mere fact that whatever
made it has been there. You ought to be able
to tell when the sign was made, and sometimes how it
came to be made. Sometimes the sign is merely the
way the wild animals act. I remember years ago,
when the Sioux and Cheyennes were troublesome, I
was travelling alone with Hugh, and one night when
we camped, he rode out to kill a buffalo heifer.
Before long he came back and told me that he had
seen Indian sign, and that as soon as it was dark
we must start and travel on all night. When I
asked him what he had seen, he said that the animals
were uneasy and the buffalo were running, and that
some one was chasing them not far off. We hid our
horses in a ravine and crept on top of a near-by hill
from which we could see a good stretch of country.
Sure enough, before long we saw buffalo running as
if frightened, and a little later we saw, far off, two
Indians chasing a little bunch. We lighted no fire
that evening, but soon after dark rode away, and
did not rest till we had put forty miles behind us."</p>
<p>"Do you think they would have tried to kill you,
if they had seen you?" asked Jack.</p>
<p>"I don't know," said his uncle, "we were not
taking any chances.</p>
<p>"Now, when you get to the ranch," he went on,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span>
"you will learn a lot about the birds and animals,
and if your tastes lie that way, and you keep your
eyes open, you will find out much of the life of these
wild things that few people know. Although I have
been out there so many years and have always tried
to observe things, I see every season something
that I never saw before, and learn more and more
how little I really know about the beasts and the
birds of the west—even those that are most common
about the ranch. Only last year I saw for the first
time a little blind coyote puppy dug out from a
hole in a ravine and was astonished to find that,
instead of being yellow it was dark blue, almost
black in fact. You could get a great collection of
pets together at the ranch. Young elk, young
antelope and deer and wolves, possibly a buffalo
calf, some foxes, and birds of a dozen different kinds,
grouse, ducks, magpies, young hawks. Why, you
could have a regular menagerie."</p>
<p>"Oh, what fun that would be," said Jack. "I
should like that. But how do you catch all these
things? I supposed that young deer and antelope
could run so fast that they could not be caught. I
thought that they ran even faster than the old ones."</p>
<p>"They can run very fast and they are hard to
catch as soon as they are a few weeks old," said
his uncle; "but when they are quite young—for
the first few days after they are born—they can
scarcely run at all. During this time the mother
hides them, telling them, I suppose, in her own
language, to lie perfectly still until she returns.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span>
The young one lies flat on the ground, and the old
mother goes off a little way—not far though—and
feeds about. If she sees any one coming, or if
danger of any kind threatens, she runs away and
only returns after it is past. Meanwhile, the little
one, lying there among the grass or weeds or undergrowth,
and keeping perfectly still, is not noticed by
the hunter or the wild animal that is passing along,
and when the mother returns, she finds it just
where she left it. It is said that at this time of
their lives, these young animals give out no scent,
and so they are not found by the wolves, unless these
brutes happen to come right upon them."</p>
<p>"Well, but how do you catch them then?" said
Jack.</p>
<p>"When we see an old doe antelope by herself on
the prairie at about the season of the year when the
young are born, we watch her and we can tell pretty
well whether she has a young one or not. If we
think she has a kid, we can get some idea of where
it is hidden by the way the mother acts. Then the
only way to find it is to go to the place and search
the ground over foot by foot, until the young one is
found or the task is given up. Usually both kids
will be found side by side, but sometimes they are
three or four feet apart. When they are taken up,
they do not struggle or try to get away. They hang
perfectly limp, and if you try to make them stand
up, their legs give way under them and they sink
down again. It is often twenty-four hours before
they seem to take any interest in what is going on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span>
about them, but when they get hungry, and after
they have once drunk some milk, they are tame,
and as soon as they become strong, very playful.
Young antelope are not always easily reared, but
young deer and elk are more hardy. If a buffalo
calf is caught it can be given to a cow to rear.
Wolf or coyote puppies can be reared on a bottle.
Those animals do not easily become tame and trustful.
They are likely to be shy and to dodge and
jump away if any sudden motion is made, but when
they are pleased, when any one in whom they have
confidence approaches them, they lay back their ears
and wag their tails and wriggle their bodies just like
an affectionate dog. Once we had a young bear
at the ranch for a year and a half, and he was an
amusing pet. If you gave him a bottle of milk he
would stand on his hind legs, and holding the
bottle in both hands he would tilt it up and let the
milk trickle down his throat until the bottle was
empty, when he would throw it away."</p>
<p>"Uncle Will, I think we're going to have a
splendid time out west. I don't feel as if I could
wait for to-morrow to come."</p>
<p>"It will be here before you know it, old fellow;
and we'll be at the ranch before you know it too."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER II<br />
<span class="medium">PRAIRIE WOLVES AND ANTELOPE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>One morning, a few days later, a train was speeding
westward among the foothills of the Rocky
Mountains, bearing the travellers towards their
summer home. The grey monotone of the prairie
was unbroken by any bit of colour. The soil, the
sage-brush, the dead grass that had grown the summer
before, were all grey, unvaried except where a
great rock or a bush taller than its fellows cast a
long black shadow. Now and then the train passed
close to some high butte, whose sides were gashed
and gullied by deep ravines, and whose summit was
crowned by a scattered fringe of black pines. Far
off on either side, rose great mountains, covered
with a mantle of snow, the most distant looking like
far-off white clouds. From this snowy covering long
fingers of white ran down the narrow valleys and
ravines, seeming like white clasps holding the covering
close in its place. The nearer foothills were
white towards their tops, and against the shining
snow the black pine trees stood out in strong contrast.
Scattered over the grey plain were horses and
cattle, most of them in little herds, but now and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span>
then a single cow was seen and near her a staggering
calf, which had just been born, to face the scorching
heats and bitter colds of the high plains.</p>
<p>Suddenly as the train rushed around a low knoll,
a dozen animals were seen, running swiftly along,
parallel with the track, and less than three hundred
feet distant. In colour they were bright yellow,
almost red, with white patches and white legs, and
two or three of them had black and nearly straight
horns. They were graceful, and ran very swiftly,
easily keeping pace with the train.</p>
<p>"Oh, Uncle Will," said Jack, grasping his uncle's
arm, "what are those? They're not deer, I am sure.
They must be antelope. How pretty they are, and
see how fast they run! Why, they are going faster
than the train, I do believe. They just seem to
skim over the ground."</p>
<p>"Yes, those are antelope, the swiftest animal on
the plains. And yet the coyotes catch a good many
of them, just by running them down. Now, how do
you suppose they do that, Jack?" and his uncle
smiled at the boy's puzzled expression.</p>
<p>"I don't know. You said they were the swiftest
animals on the plains, and yet you say that the
coyotes catch them. That seems to mean that the
coyotes are swifter. Doesn't it?" asked Jack.</p>
<p>"Not exactly," replied his uncle; "it only means
that they are smarter—more cunning. A single
coyote who undertook to run down a single antelope,
would get very tired and very hungry before he accomplished
it, but when two or three coyotes are
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span>
together, it is quite a different thing. The coyotes
do not all run after the antelope together. They
take turns, and while one runs, the others rest, so at
last they tire the antelope out."</p>
<p>"But I should think that when the antelope ran,
it would leave all the wolves behind, those that
were resting even more than the one that was chasing
it."</p>
<p>"It would do so if it ran straight away and out of
the country, but this it does not do. Instead, it
runs in large circles. When three or four prairie
wolves decide that they want antelope meat for
breakfast, one of them creeps as close as possible to
the animal they have selected, and then makes a
rush for it, running as fast as he possibly can, so as
to push the antelope to its best speed and to tire it
out. Meantime his companions spread out on either
side of the runner, and get on little hills or knolls,
so as to keep the chase in sight. They trot from
point to point, and pretty soon when the antelope
turns and begins to work back towards one of them,
this one tries to get as nearly as possible in its path,
and as it flies by, the wolf dashes out at it and runs
after it at the top of its speed, while the one that
had been chasing the antelope stops running, and
trots off to some near-by hill, where, while the water
drips off his lolling tongue, he watches the race and
gets his breath again. After a little the antelope
passes near another coyote, which takes up the pursuit
in its turn. And so the chase is kept up until
the poor antelope is exhausted, when it is overtaken
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span>
and pulled down by one or more of the hungry
brutes."</p>
<p>"Why, I should think the coyotes would kill all
the antelope after awhile," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Of course the coyotes do not catch every antelope
they start," said his uncle. "Sometimes the
game runs such a course that it does not pass near
any of the waiting wolves, and only the one that
starts it has any running to do. Then the chase
does not last long; the wolves give up. Sometimes
the antelope is so stout and strong that it tires out all
its pursuers. Yet they catch them more frequently
than one would think, and it is not at all uncommon
to see coyotes chasing antelope, although, of course
one does not often see the whole race and its termination.
Often if a wolf running an antelope comes
near to a man, he gives up the chase and that particular
antelope is saved. It is a common thing for
a single coyote to chase an old doe with her kids,
just after the little ones have begun to run about.
At that time they are very swift for short distances,
but have not the strength to stand a long chase. In
such a case a mother will often stay behind her
young, and will try to fight off the coyote, butting
him with her head and striking him with her forefeet.
He pays little attention to her, except to
snap at her, and keeps on after the kids. Several
times I have seen a mother antelope lead her young
one into the midst of a bed of cactus, where the
wolf could not go without getting his feet full of
thorns. If the bed is small, the wolf will make
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span>
fierce dashes up to its borders, trying to frighten the
little ones, so that they will run out on the other
side and he can start after them again, but usually
the mother has no trouble in holding them. I have
several times killed young antelope whose legs had
been bitten up by coyotes, but which had got away.
One hot day last summer a gang of section-men were
working in a railroad cut west of here, when suddenly
a big buck antelope ran down one side of the
cut, across the track and up the other side. His
sudden dash into the midst of them startled the men,
and as they stood looking up where he had crossed,
a coyote suddenly plunged down the side of the cut,
just as the antelope had done. The readiest of the
section men threw a hammer at him, and the wolf
turned and scrambled up the bank and was not seen
again.</p>
<p>"I wonder what the men thought?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Two or three years ago I camped one afternoon
near Rock Creek, and as there was very little feed,
we turned the horses loose at night to pick among
the sage-brush and grease wood. Early in the morning,
before sunrise, while the man with me was
getting breakfast, I started out to get the horses.
They were nowhere to be seen, and I climbed to the
top of the hill back of camp, from which, as it was
the only high place anywhere about, I felt sure that
I could see them. Just before I got to the top of
the hill an old doe antelope suddenly came in view,
closely followed by a coyote. Both of them seemed
to be running as hard as they could, and both had
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span>
their tongues hanging out as if they had come a long
way. Suddenly, almost at the heels of the antelope—much
closer to her than the other wolf—appeared
a second coyote which now took up the running,
while the one that had been chasing her stopped and
sat down and watched. The antelope ran quite a
long distance, always bearing a little to the left, and
now seeming to run more slowly than when I first
saw her. As she kept turning, it was evident that
she would either run around the hill on which I stood,
or would come back near it. At first I was so interested
in watching her that I forgot to look at the
wolf that had stopped. When I did so, he was no
longer in the same place, but was trotting over a
little ridge that ran down from the hill and was
watching the chase that was now so far off. He
could easily have cut across and headed the antelope,
but he knew too well what she would do to give
himself that trouble. After a little, it was evident
that the antelope would come back pretty near to
the hill, but on the other side of it from where she
had passed before, and the wolf which I had first
seen chasing her, trotted out two or three hundred
yards on the prairie and sat down. The antelope
was now coming back almost directly towards him,
and I could see that there were two wolves behind
her, one close at her heels and the other a good way
further back. The first wolf now seemed quite excited.
He no longer sat up, but crouched close to
the ground, every few moments raising his head very
slowly to take a look at the doe, and then lowering
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span>
it again so that he would be out of sight. Sometimes
he crawled on his belly a few feet further from
me, evidently trying to put himself directly in the
path of the antelope; and this he seemed to have
succeeded in doing. As she drew near him I could
see that she was staggering, she was so tired, and the
wolf behind could at any moment have knocked her
down, if he had wanted to, but he seemed to be
waiting for something. The wolf that was following
him was now running faster and catching up.</p>
<p>"When the antelope reached the place where the
first wolf was lying hidden, he sprang up and in a
jump or two caught her neck and threw her down.
At the same moment, the two wolves from behind
came up, and for a moment there was a scuffle in
which yellow and white and grey and waving tails
were all mixed up, and then the three wolves were
seen standing there, tearing away at their breakfast.</p>
<p>"Great Scott! that must have been exciting," said
Jack.</p>
<p>"It was," said his uncle; "I had been so interested
in watching this thing, which after all had not taken
more than ten or fifteen minutes of time, that I had
forgotten all about the horses. It only needed a
moment's looking to see them, a short distance down
the stream, and before I had got to them and brought
them back to camp, I heard Bill's voice singing out
breakfast."</p>
<p>"I always thought," said Jack, "that the antelope
could run so fast that they could get away from all
their enemies except hunters that carried rifles. Is
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span>
there any other wild animal besides the coyote that
catches them?"</p>
<p>"Yes, the golden eagles often kill them when they
are quite young, though if any old ones are near
they will fight the birds and keep them from catching
the kids. Once in winter I saw an eagle attack two
kids that were feeding at a little distance from a big
bunch of perhaps a thousand antelope. At this time
the young ones were seven or eight months old, and
so quite large and strong. The eagle had been sitting
somewhere on the hillside and flew down over
the kids to pounce on one of them. They immediately
began to run to the herd, and when the eagle
made a dart at them, they both stopped, reared on
their hind legs, a good deal in the position of the
unicorn that we sometimes see fighting for the
crown, and struck at the bird with their forefeet.
Perhaps the eagle was not very hungry, but at all
events this turned him and the kids ran on. He
made two more swoops at them before they reached
the herd, but each time they fought him off in the
same way by rearing up and striking at him. Of
course when they got in among the other antelope
the eagles left them and flew away.</p>
<p>"You know that in old times, before they had
horses or fire-arms, the Indians used to catch antelope
in traps."</p>
<p>"No, I didn't know that," said Jack, "how did
they do it? I should think it would have needed a
pretty big trap to hold an antelope."</p>
<p>"It was something on the same plan as the way
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span>
in which they trapped the buffalo; they built two
long straight fences which almost came together at
one end and were far apart at the other. At the
end of the fences where they almost came together,
the Indians either built a corral or dug a deep pit
which they roofed over by slender poles on which
they put grass and dirt. Now you have heard that
the antelope is very curious. If he sees anything
that he does not understand or can't quite make out
he is likely to go up closer to it, so as to see what
this object really is. The Indians took advantage
of this weakness of the antelope and by means of it
decoyed bunches of them into the space between
the widely separated ends of these two fences.
Other Indians were hidden behind the fence, and as
soon as the herd got started down between these
wings the Indians near the end of the fence ran out
and got behind the antelope, which were then
forced to run down towards the pit or the corral.
If it was a pit, they broke through the roof in running
over it, or they ran into the corral where they
were killed by the Indians, who were hidden near-by.</p>
<p>"Down in Utah and Colorado, south-west of here,
I have seen in several places the remains of these
fences and corrals. I do not know that the Indians
hereabouts ever caught the antelope in pits, but
men who have lived up north with the Blackfeet and
Cheyennes, tell me that up there they used the pits
instead of the corrals.</p>
<p>"So you see, my boy, the antelope has his troubles
like other people. It isn't all cake and pie for him,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span>
even though he can run fast and lives out on the
prairie where he can see a long distance."</p>
<p>"That's so, Uncle Will," said Jack, "I never
thought of all these things."</p>
<p>While the two had been talking they had forgotten
about the antelope, and these had now been
long left behind. Now the train with a long groaning
whistle plunged into the darkness of a snow
shed, and a few moments later ran out past the
border of a large lake, the surface of which was
covered with ducks and geese which rose from the
water until the air was fairly dark with their numbers.
The whistle of the duck's wings and the
clamour of the honking geese could be heard, even
though the car windows were shut, and the passengers
all gathered at the windows to look at the
great flocks of birds.</p>
<p>When they had passed out of sight of the lake his
uncle said to Jack: "That is the Medicine Lake,
and the next stop is our station. Better ring the
bell for the porter, so that he can have all our things
together ready to put off."</p>
<p>"Well, Thomas," he said to the smiling coloured
man who came up, brush in hand, "we are going to
leave you now. Please get all our things ready to
throw off. You know the train does not stop long."</p>
<p>"All right sir, all right," said Thomas, "I'll see
that nothing is left. Hope you will have a good
drive out, Mr. Sturgis. Nice day you've got. Don't
always have such nice weather, this time of the
year." And he brushed furiously.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER III<br />
<span class="medium">THE ROAD TO THE RANCH</span></h2>
</div>
<p>The little cluster of buildings which the travellers
saw when they stepped from the cars to the station
platform was smaller than any village that Jack had
ever been in. There were the station, the section
house and the great round water tank, all painted
red, and on the other side of the track a row of five
one-story houses, four of unpainted logs, and one
of boards, with large glass windows, evidently a
store. Standing on the platform were a man holding
a mail sack, two men wearing broad-brimmed
hats, enormous fringed leather trousers, and small
high heeled boots with great spurs. Not far from
the platform stood a heavy spring-waggon, to which
were hitched two good-sized chestnut horses, very
nervous, or else half broken, for they were rearing
and plunging and shying away from the train, yet
were perfectly controlled by their driver, a large
stoop-shouldered, white-bearded man. As the train
drew out of the station, this team made a wide circle
and then drove up to the platform, and as it reached
it, the driver called out cheerily: "How are you
Mr. Sturgis? how are you, sir. Glad to see you;"
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span>
and he reached out and caught Mr. Sturgis' hand in
a cordial grasp. "This your nephew? How are
you, my son? I'm glad you've come out into this
country to visit with us. We'll try to make a cowman
of you before you go back."</p>
<p>"How are you, Hugh?" said Mr. Sturgis. "I
am glad to see you, and glad to get back again. I
have had enough of the town for a little while.
Yes, this is my nephew, Jack Danvers. I want you
to know him and like him, for I hope that you two
will see a good deal of each other before snow flies.
Jack has never been away from home before. He
has everything to learn about life in the mountains,
and there is no one who can teach him so well as
you."</p>
<p>"Well, well," said Hugh, "I don't know as I'm
much of a hand to break in a cowboy. I took to
it too late. But let's get your things loaded. If
you'll take these lines I'll pack the waggon."</p>
<p>In a very few moments the small trunks, bundles,
gun-cases and bags were stored in the deep box of
the waggon, and Hugh, stepping in again, took the
lines and they drove off north over the rolling prairie.</p>
<p>The horses, which started with a rush, for a little
time occupied all his attention. Old tin cans lying
near the roads, and bits of paper quivering in the
wind, caused them to shy, and often they tried to
bolt, but the firm hand on the reins, and the low
soothing voice soon quieted them, and before long
they were jogging steadily and swiftly over the
prairie road.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span>
"They'll be a good team, Hugh, after a little
driving," said Mr. Sturgis.</p>
<p>"That's what;" replied Hugh. "They're good
now, only they're a little mite skeery yet, but
they'll soon get over that. I don't know as I ever
saw a team that promised better. They're right
quiet, too, when you get 'em going." Just as he
said this, a great bird rose with a roar of wings,
almost under the horses' feet, and the right quiet
animals, turning at right angles, bolted over the
prairie, the waggon bumping and bouncing over
the sage-brush in a way that made the two men
hold on for dear life, while Jack, who was sitting
between them, clung to the back of the seat, somewhat
uneasy lest he should be thrown over the
dashboard. Gradually Hugh checked the horses'
speed and turned them back to the road, and when
they were again quiet, he looked down at Jack and
said to him, with a twinkle of fun in his eye: "I
expect this prairie isn't as smooth as some of your
park roads back in the States, my son."</p>
<p>"My, no! It bumped, didn't it? and I don't
think your horses are so very quiet yet, Mr. Hugh.
But what was that big bird that made such a noise
when it flew up? Was it a partridge? I've heard
about the noise they make getting up, but I didn't
suppose they were as big as that."</p>
<p>"That was a sage hen, my son. You'll see lots
of them before night. It's getting along towards
nesting time for them, and maybe we'll find some
nests, and maybe get some young ones this spring.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span>
I've raised a brood or two, but they always went off
after they got big. Along in the fall, say in October,
just before it gets cold weather, they get
together in big droves, hundreds and hundreds together,
and stay like that all winter. They're big,
but they ain't much account. They taste too strong
of the sage. The young ones about half grown are
good eating, though not near so good as the blue
grouse or the pheasant. Now, you take young
blue grouse, just when they are feeding on the
little red huckleberries that grow on the mountains,
and, I tell you, they are tender and as nice tasting
as any bird there is. There's as much difference
between them and these sage hens as there is between
a nice fat yearling mountain sheep in October
and an old buck antelope at the same time of
the year."</p>
<p>As they went on, Mr. Sturgis and Hugh began
to speak of matters on the ranch, of cows and
calves and horses and colts and brands, and of
places and people Jack had never heard of, so that
he paid no heed to their talk, but occupied himself
in watching the prairie over which they were
driving, and the wild creatures which lived on
it. There were many of these, chiefly birds, and
these of kinds new to him, familiar only with the
commoner birds of the sea-coast. Most of them were
small and dull-coloured, but not all; for, flying up
from the road, yet often standing close to it while
the waggon passed, were little birds with bright
yellow throats and black chins, and which seemed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span>
to have little black horns on either side of the head.
There were great flocks of these, and Jack determined
to remember and ask his uncle what they
were. At one time a great, long-eared animal sprang
from under a bush by the side of the road and half
hopped, half ran off over the prairie. It was mostly
white, and had long ears, and Jack thought it must
be a rabbit of some kind. When it sprang into
view, the horses gave a great bound and tried to
run, and not until they had again been brought
down to a trot was he able to ask what it was, and
to learn that it was a jack-rabbit.</p>
<p>By this time they had gone quite a long way, and
as they reached the top of a ridge, Mr. Sturgis
pointed toward a range of distant hills which cut
off the view, and asked his nephew how far off he
thought they were.</p>
<p>"Oh, I don't know, Uncle Will; how far are
they?"</p>
<p>"They are about twenty miles distant, and we
have to go ten miles beyond them. Do you see
that low place in the line of the horizon, just to the
right of the horses' heads? Well, we go through
that. There is a narrow valley there, and we go up
that, and then over the hill and down into the basin,
where the ranch is."</p>
<p>"What makes those mountains look so grey,
Uncle Will? They shine almost like silver. In
some places the mountain looks black, but it's
mostly grey."</p>
<p>"The black is the dark green of the growing
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span>
pine timber, and the grey is where the timber has
been burned, and is dead. For the first year or
two after the fire has passed over the forest and
killed them, the trees are black or keep their bark.
Then the wind and rain and snow beating on
the soft coating of charcoal, wear off the charred
surface and the bark, and the wood becomes grey
from the weather, just the colour of an old fence
rail. The trees continue to stand for a good many
years, and give this grey colour to the mountain
side. Gradually the roots rot, and one by one the
trees fall to the ground. Often they lie across each
other, six or eight feet high, and this is the "down
timber" which it is so hard to travel through.
Sometimes it is even dangerous to pass through a
piece of this dead timber. If it has been dead
a long time, so that the roots of many of the trees
have become rotten and weakened, the trees are
easily thrown down by a high wind. I have seen a
tall, thick tree pushed over by a mule knocking its
pack against it, and in a gale of wind have seen the
trees falling all around me. Of course, if one of
them fell on a horse it would kill him."</p>
<p>By this time the waggon had begun to go down
into some low but very rough and barren hills, cut
up in every direction by ravines and water-courses.
There was no grass and the ground was bare, except
for low sage-brush here and there, and the rocks
seemed to be bent and twisted. Sometimes a little
pointed hill was capped by a great broad slab of
stone, or again a narrow ridge was crowned with
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span>
pinnacles which looked like pyramids or church
steeples, or men or animals. It was a queer-looking
place, and not like anything that Jack had ever seen
before. He asked his uncle about it, and he explained.
"These are what the old French trappers
of early days used to call <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mauvaises terres</i>—bad lands—because
no grass grows on them. The soil is all
sand or clay, and very dry. All this country you see
was once the bottom of a big bay where the tide
rose and fell."</p>
<p>"Tide rose and fell, Uncle Will! How could that
be? Where did the tide come from? I didn't
think that the ocean was within a thousand miles
of here;" said Jack.</p>
<p>"That is true to-day, Jack," said his uncle; "but
the time I am talking about was long, long ago, in
what the men who study the earth's history call
Jurassic time. No one knows how many years ago
it was, but it is safe to say it was millions. In those
times the salt ocean, or an arm of it, lay just east
of the Rocky Mountains and the water in this bay
where we are now was partly fresh and partly salt.
Great forests grew here, and strange animals lived
among them and fed along the shores of this bay.
If we had time to get out and look for them, we
could find beaches, where the sand was washed up by
the waves, and shells, and the bones of these great
animals. A big book could be written about these
bad lands here, just as big books have been written
about other bad lands."</p>
<p>"They're surely queer places," said Hugh.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span>
"I've seen it down in Kansas, and down on Henry's
fork of Green River, and up in Oregon, where the
ground was stuck full of bones and teeth. Some of
the leg-bones was nigh as thick as my body, and
some of the big heads had long teeth as long as my
hand. They must have been big animals, and
mighty dangerous too, I reckon."</p>
<p>"What makes the dirt all those different colours,
Uncle Will," asked Jack; "In some places it's
white, in others yellow or brown or black, and in
some, bright red, like bricks."</p>
<p>"That red colour," said Mr. Sturgis, "is where the
earth has been burnt. All through the soil here
there are seams or veins of a crumbly brown substance,
which is called lignite. It is a sort of coal
about half made, and like coal it will burn. Sometimes
a seam of this lignite catches fire from some
cause or other, and may burn for years, baking the
earth close to it. The heat turns it red, just as
bricks which have been burned turn red."</p>
<p>By this time they were passing out of the bad
lands and down into a flat through which flowed a
broad river. There was no bridge over it, and Jack
wondered how they were going to get across, but when
they came to the water's edge the horses trotted in,
were stopped to drink, and then walked on across,
although the water came up to their bellies and
washed and gurgled about the waggon, so that Jack
began to think that perhaps they might be swept
away. Pretty soon it grew more shallow, and then
they came to the bank, and once more the waggon
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span>
started off down the valley at a brisk rate. Soon
they crossed a narrow little stream flowing between
deep banks, climbed another hill, and then turning
away from the river, went up a narrow valley, shut
in on one side by a high wall of rock and on the
other by a great mountain dotted with cedars. On
this mountain Hugh said there were some mountain
sheep, and he pointed out to Jack tracks in the road
where some of these animals had crossed that morning.
Further on, in a broad rolling valley, they
saw some antelope, but by this time the cold wind
had made Jack chilly and tired, and his uncle
wrapped him up to the throat with blankets and
robes, and propping him up between Hugh and himself,
told him to go to sleep. Just as he was about
to do this, something happened which woke him up
very thoroughly.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER IV<br />
<span class="medium">A GRIZZLY KILLED</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Jack was just dropping off to sleep when he heard,
very faintly, Hugh's voice, saying, "Got your gun
handy, Mr. Sturgis, and some cartridges? Get it
out quick then, there's a bear coming down from
that bluff, and he's liable to cross the road a half
mile beyond here; I'll run the horses and we may
get there as soon as he does; he can't hear nor
smell us in this wind." The last part of this sentence
sounded very loud to Jack, for the word, bear,
had thoroughly waked him up. When he opened
his eyes, he seemed to have the seat all to himself.
His Uncle Will's head was down between his knees,
and he was feeling under the waggon-seat, while
Hugh was half standing up and putting the whip on
the horses. They did not need much urging to
make them run, and in a minute the waggon was
bounding along the road, jumping and swaying so
that Jack held on to the back of the seat as hard as
he could. His uncle had found his rifle, and was
hurriedly fumbling with the straps of the case, and
at the same time muttering questions to Hugh, asking
where the bear was likely to cross.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span>
In a moment more the rifle was pulled from its
case, a cartridge slipped into the breech, and then
the waggon topped a little rise of ground, and there
before them, just crossing the road, was a big brown
animal that looked something like a big dog without
any tail. As they saw it, the horses tried to shy out
to one side, but Hugh was ready for them and held
them firmly. Mr. Sturgis rose to his feet and
raised his gun to his shoulder, but Hugh said,
"Hold on, hold on; wait till we get to where he
crosses and then jump out. You will catch him as
he rises the hill." Meantime the bear had crossed
the road and disappeared in a ravine, and in a moment
more Hugh drew up the horses, so that they
almost reared, checked the waggon, Mr. Sturgis
jumped out, and at that moment the bear was seen
only fifty yards off, swiftly galloping up the hill.
There was a shot, and then another, and the bear
turned over and rolled down the hill out of sight.
The horses danced, plunged, reared, and then ran
some little distance before Hugh could stop them.
But Jack looking back saw his uncle wave his hand
and call out a cheery "All right!"</p>
<p>In a moment the horses stopped, and Jack jumped
out and ran toward his uncle, not heeding Hugh's
call to him to wait. Before he had reached
Mr. Sturgis, however, the waggon had passed him,
and when he got to the spot his uncle and
Hugh were unhitching the horses, and in a moment
had tied them to the hind wheels of the
waggon.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span>
"Where's the bear, Uncle Will," said Jack,
"where did he go to?"</p>
<p>"I think he is down there in the ravine, my boy,
but don't go down there yet. We'll get out your
gun and load it, and then we'll go down and look for
him."</p>
<p>"That is the way to do it," said Hugh. "Don't
never go near no game without your gun, and a load
in it, and above all, when it is a bear. Don't go
near him, even if your gun is loaded, unless you can
see him plain and are sure that he is dead. It is
better to stand off and throw rocks at him for ten
or fifteen minutes than to go up close and have him
jump up and hit you once."</p>
<p>Jack's gun was soon out of the waggon, and when
it had been loaded, he walked down the hill by his
uncle's side, while Hugh, who was unarmed, followed
a little behind them. They soon reached a
point where they could see into the bottom of the
ravine, and there lay the bear, doubled up in a heap
and apparently dead.</p>
<p>"Roll a rock down on him, Hugh," said Mr.
Sturgis, "and let's see if there is any life left in
him."</p>
<p>Two or three big stones rolled down the steep
slope caused no movement in the bear, and very
slowly they approached him, but he did not now
seem nearly so big to Jack as when he had crossed
the road.</p>
<p>"He is only a yearling, Mr. Sturgis," said Hugh.
"Say about fifteen or sixteen months old, but he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span>
has surely got a nice hide, and he will make a nice
little robe for the boy here."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "but if we stop to skin
him, it will bring us mighty late to the ranch."</p>
<p>"Oh, Uncle Will," said Jack, "let's skin him;
what difference does it make whether we get to the
ranch an hour sooner or later. Just think, this is
the first big animal I have ever seen killed. I think
we ought to take his skin along with us."</p>
<p>"All right, my boy," said Mr. Sturgis, "we will
skin him; it won't take more than half an hour.
Take hold of his front paws, Hugh, and drag him
out to a level place, and we'll take his coat off; and
Jack, do you go down this ravine a little way and
see if you can find any water; before we get through
we'll probably all want a drink, and certainly some
of us will want to wash our hands."</p>
<p>Jack wanted to wait there and watch the operation
of skinning the bear, but he did as he was told,
and after walking down the ravine a few hundred
yards, he found a place where a little water was
trickling out of the side of the bank, and flowed
away in a very thin small stream. There was so
little of it that it was impossible for any one to
drink, and there was no place where one could wash
one's hands. He followed it down a little way
further, and presently it fell over some rocks
and into a little pool, almost as big as a water
bucket.</p>
<p>Walking in the sun had made him thirsty, and he
stooped and took a swallow or two of the water,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span>
but, although it was clear and cold, it was very bitter,
and a little of it was enough for him. As he
started back to where the bear lay, suddenly he saw
coming down the side of the ravine toward him, a
yellowish dog, with a long bushy tail and pricked
ears, and he thought at once of the Indian dogs that
his uncle had described to him, and wondered
whether perhaps there was a camp of Indians somewhere
near. In a moment after, the dog saw him,
paused for an instant, and then turning about, with
long bounds, ran up the hill, and after stopping a
moment at the crest, it looked back and then disappeared
from view.</p>
<p>When he got back to where the men were at work
he found that the bear was already half skinned, and
while he watched the finishing of the work, he told
them of the water that he had found and of the dog
that he had seen.</p>
<p>"I guess your dog was a coyote, Jack," said his
uncle. "There are no Indians about here now, are
there, Hugh?"</p>
<p>"No, not yet, Mr. Sturgis. There's likely to be a
camp or two travelling along when summer comes,
but they haven't started in to move yet. The grass
is not high enough and the ponies can't get any
feed. I expect your boy saw a coyote."</p>
<p>"Do you mean one of the little wolves that run
down antelopes, Uncle Will?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Yes, one of those," said his uncle. "The smartest
animal that travels the prairie, aren't they,
Hugh?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span>
"They surely are," said the old man, as he gave
a last cut with his knife, and then tore the hide free
from the bear. "Well, now, Mr. Sturgis," he continued,
"I will take this hide up the hill and tie it
up, and then go down to the spring and wash up,
and then we will hitch up and roll. We have wasted
considerable time here, but them horses are able to
travel good, and we ought to get to the ranch by
eight o'clock; before nine, anyhow."</p>
<p>Twenty minutes later the team was once more
swiftly trotting along the smooth road, and Jack,
wrapped up in robes and blankets, was cogitating on
bear hunting as he dropped off to sleep.</p>
<p>Jack was awakened by a sharp jerk that nearly
threw him from his seat, to hear Hugh growl:
"Well I didn't hit that crossing very well. Lucky
I slowed up."</p>
<p>The waggon was passing through a shallow brook,
flowing down from mountains which could be plainly
seen in the bright moonlight to the left of the road.
Their sides were patched with glistening snow, and
one could follow the dark irregular outline of their
crest, cutting off the star-dotted sky, but Jack could
not tell whether they were near or far away. To the
right there seemed a far stretching plain, white in the
moonlight. It was all strange, and for a little while
Jack hardly knew where he was, but gradually he
recovered his wits, and moved and stretched out his
legs.</p>
<p>"Awake, Jack?" said his uncle. "We're almost
there now. Only a few miles more and we'll be at
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span>
home and get some supper. You'll be ready for
that, I guess."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "I feel pretty hungry. It's cold
too, isn't it?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "you see it comes pretty
near being winter yet out here. We're pretty high
up in the air, and summer comes on slow and don't
stay long when it gets here. I reckon you have
heard the old saying that we have in this country
about the weather. They say it's nine months winter
and three months late in the fall. I expect
that's because we have frosts and snow-storms
every month in the year. Last summer in July we
had a big hailstorm that cut down everything in
the garden even with the ground, and knocked all
the leaves off the quaking asps back of the house.
The potatoes sprouted again and got about four
inches high when there came another storm and cut
'em down again. So last year we didn't have no
garden."</p>
<p>Before Hugh had finished this long speech, Jack
had gone to sleep again, not to awake until he was
lifted from the waggon at the ranch and was carried
up to the house in Hugh's strong arms. The warmth
and light of the room they entered confused him
and made him still more sleepy, and he ate his supper
in a daze and then went to bed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER V<br />
<span class="medium">ROPING AND RIDING</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Jack Danvers' sleep was deep and dreamless during
his first night at the ranch, and when he was
awakened next morning by his uncle's call, he could
hardly tell where he was. As he jumped out of bed
he saw by the dim light that came in through the
small window that he was in a little room, furnished
only with a bed, a washstand, a chair and his trunk.
From the window he looked out on some level
land, a grove of small trees and beyond them a very
high hill, rising sharply and strewn with great
stones. Gradually the drive of the day before and
its incidents came back to his memory, and he knew
that he was at the ranch. He dressed quickly, for
he felt that there must be many strange things to
see, and he did not want to miss any of them.</p>
<p>As soon as he had finished dressing, he opened
his door and stepped out into another larger room,
in which were chairs, a lounge, a stove and a good
many shelves with books on them. This was the
ranch sitting-room. There was no one here, but
somewhere not far off he could hear the rattle of
dishes, and passing through another room, he found
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span>
himself in an open door-way looking into the kitchen
where a pleasant-faced young woman was cooking.
She smiled at him as she said, "Good-morning.
Did you sleep well? I guess you did, and I don't
believe you remember much about getting here last
night, do you? You were dead tired and were almost
asleep while you were eating supper, and went
sound asleep as soon as you were through."</p>
<p>"No, ma'am, I don't remember getting here at all.
I remember the drive and Uncle Will's killing the
bear, and the horses and Hugh, but I don't remember
eating supper."</p>
<p>"Well," said Mrs. Carter, "you must be rested
by this time, and now we'll have breakfast pretty
soon. Would you rather sit here till it is ready, or
go out doors?"</p>
<p>"I think I'll go out doors and look around, if
there is time before breakfast," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Oh, there's plenty of time," said Mrs. Carter.
"You'll hear the horn when breakfast is ready."
So Jack opened the door and went out.</p>
<p>Standing in front of the low grey log-house, he
looked down a little valley, bounded on either side
by low hills and soon spreading out into a wide
plain. Very far away on the other side of the plain
were high hills, some of them brown like the near-by
prairie, others white, like chalk. Over these distant
hills the sun was just rising, and all the broad plain
was flooded with yellow light. Down on the prairie
not very far from the house some antelope were
feeding, and beyond them on a hillside some cattle.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span>
To the left were low log buildings—stables, Jack
supposed—and some high-walled pens. Near the
door of one of the buildings, hens were picking
about, and close to the house three or four of these
were quarrelling with a lot of black-birds over a bone
lying on the grass, from which all the meat had been
picked. By one of the pens calves were standing,
looking through the bars, and now and then bawling
to the cows that were being milked within. Behind
the house was a high mountain on which grew pines,
and high up on its side a number of small animals
were moving swiftly, and behind them, one a little
larger than the rest. As he looked at these animals
they grew larger, and before long Jack could see
that they were horses, and that the last one was a
man on horseback, driving them. They came toward
the house very fast and soon were plainly
seen, and a little later the rumble of their galloping
was heard, and they crowded into the corral. The
man put up the bars and rode to the stable and
unsaddled. Just after this, the horn sounded, and
Jack saw his uncle, Hugh and two other men come
toward the house, and soon all were seated at breakfast.</p>
<p>After the meal was over, Mr. Sturgis said to his
nephew: "Now, Jack, I am going to ride out to-day
to look for some horses, and I am going to
leave you and Hugh here to keep camp. Hugh is
going over into the pasture, and if he has time after
he gets back, he will give you some lessons in shooting.
You had better go with him. You can ride
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span>
Old Grey for the present, until you begin to feel at
home on a horse. I am going out now to saddle
up. Do you want to come down to the corral?"
They walked down toward the big pen into which
Jack had seen the horses driven, but before they got
to it a cloud of dust rose from it, and the horses
were seen to be running around in it. Jack asked:</p>
<p>"What is frightening the horses, Uncle Will?"</p>
<p>"The men are catching up their riding animals,"
said Mr. Sturgis. "Run ahead and climb up on the
fence, if you want to see them roping."</p>
<p>Jack ran on and clambered up on the top rail, just
as another great cloud of dust rose. He saw the
horses all standing, huddled in one corner of the
pen, but one was following one of the men who
held the end of a long rope which was about the
horse's neck. Just then Hugh, carrying some ropes
in his hand, came out of the stable, and unhooking
the gate of the pen, went in, hooked the gate behind
him, and walked toward the horses. As he
saw Jack on the fence he called out:</p>
<p>"You've come down to get your horse, have you?
Before very long we'll have you coming in here and
catching him for yourself. You'll have to learn to
throw a rope." He walked slowly toward the
horses, and soon some of them started to run around
the pen, always keeping close to the fence. Hugh
held the long rope in both hands, the part in his
left hand being in a small coil, while from his right
hand a long loop trailed behind him in the dust.
Suddenly he threw his right hand forward, the large
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span>
loop flew out and settled over the head of a small
grey horse that was galloping by. The horse
stopped short and turned toward Hugh, who walked
away toward the gate of the pen, gathering up the
rope until the horse was quite close to him. He
led the horse through the gate, tied him to the
fence outside, and taking another rope went back
into the pen.</p>
<p>"Climb over," he said to Jack, "and come here.
You might as well get used to horses now as any
other time." Jack climbed down the bars into the
pen, though it did seem to him as if it were rather
a dangerous place, for he did not feel at all sure
that the horses might not run against and knock
him down, and then run over and trample him to
death. They seemed to rush about like a lot of
wild creatures. Just as he got to the ground, and
was walking over to Hugh, the gate opened again and
his uncle came in, and he too had a rope in his hand.</p>
<p>"That's right, my boy," said his uncle. "You
can't begin too soon. I see that Hugh has caught
your horse; do you think that you can catch his?"</p>
<p>"I don't believe he can do it the first time or
two, Mr. Sturgis. We'll have to practise a little on
a post first, but I thought he might as well get
down here among the horses," said Hugh. "Now,
son, you watch me close. Notice everything I do,
so that you'll remember next time. Now, you see
this rope is lying on the ground. Just watch how I
take it up and hold it."</p>
<p>Jack saw that Hugh took the loop of the rope
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span>
with his right hand, and the free end in a small coil
in his left hand, holding the end of the rope pressed
against the palm of the hand with his little finger.
"Now, d'ye see," he said, "how I hold it? Your
right hand must hold both the loop and the free
rope about a foot and a half from the hondu—that's
the eye the rope runs through. Then it will always
keep open and run free. Always give a twist to the
rope as you gather it; then it won't kink on you.
Now, watch my right arm and the loop of the rope."
He moved his right arm a little forward, turning his
hand as he did so, and the loop flew forward and
lay spread out open on the ground just before him.
It seemed very easy.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "I'll catch old Baldy, and
we'll be going." He walked toward the horses and
they started to run, and as they started, he began
to swing the rope around his head, and the loop
was partly open. In a moment his hand reached
forward, the loop flew out and settled over three or
four horses that were crowded together, and they
all stopped. Then a big bald-faced roan came out
of the group toward Hugh, and sure enough the
rope was about his neck. Hugh started toward the
corral gate, leading the horse, and Jack was just
going to follow, when the horses started again, and,
turning, he saw his uncle swinging his rope, and in
a moment he had his horse, and they all went out of
the corral together. The gate was left open so that
the horses that were not needed might go out on
the prairie again.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span>
The two horses were led up to the stable door,
and there Hugh dropped the ropes on the ground,
leaving them standing there, not tied to anything.
As he entered the door he said to Jack:</p>
<p>"Come in, son, and I'll show you your saddle and
bridle and blanket. You know every man here has
his own saddle, and no one ever uses it except the
man that owns it. Your saddle is here, and you
ought always to hang it on its peg, and hang bridle,
blanket and rope over it, so that they won't get dirty
or be gnawed by anything, and so you'll always
know where they are. You see, if you lose your
things you'll have to go without any. No one'll
lend you theirs. Now, the first thing you've got to
learn is how to saddle your horse. I'll saddle old
Baldy first, and you watch me close and try to see
what I do. You see," he said, as he took down from
a peg a great saddle with a high horn and big
wooden stirrups, "these saddles that we use out
here are different from the little flat things that they
ride in the States. I saw one of them once. An
Englishman had it, and it was queer for a fact. I
thought the man would slip off it every time the
horse gave a jump, but he didn't. He stuck to it
good. Only he got all raw after he'd been riding it
a month or two. Now, these saddles are hard, made
of wood and leather, so we have to put plenty of
blanket under 'em to keep the horse's back from
getting sore. You see, this blanket is folded so
that it's just a little longer and a little wider than
the saddle. There's about three or four inches in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span>
front of the saddle, and three or four behind. Now
I throw it on old Baldy, so that the front edge comes
just about where the mane ends on the withers, and
then I pass my hand all over it to see that there
ain't any wrinkles in the folds. If wrinkles are there
they're liable to press on the horse's back and make
it sore. When it's all smooth, the saddle goes on
like this," and grasping the heavy saddle by its horn
he swung it over the horse's back, so that stirrups
and cinches swung clear, and the saddle fell in its
place. "Now, these cinches, you see, come up to
meet the latigo straps on this side. You reach
under the horse's chest and get hold of the forward
cinch first, slip the latigo through the ring, and then
through the saddle ring, and again through the
cinch ring and saddle ring, and then pull, until the
cinch is tight, so, and tie the strap like that. The
flank cinch you don't pull so tight; if you pull on
that too much, it is liable to make your horse buck.
Now, the bridle; always leave your reins hanging
down over the head when you get off, and then your
horse won't move.</p>
<p>"Now, I'll saddle up your horse. I guess you'll
find those stirrups about right. I fixed 'em for you
last night when you was in bed. I'll tie up your
rope here to these strings. You won't need it with
Old Grey. He won't run away, even if you do get
off and go and leave him." Then he saddled the
grey with Jack's saddle.</p>
<p>"Now, let's see you mount. Here, stand by your
horse's left shoulder and gather up your reins in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span>
your left hand. Now, catch hold of the mane with
the same hand. Now, face a little toward the saddle
and take the stirrup in your right hand, turn it so
that the open end is toward you, and put your left
foot in it. Now, take hold of the horn and pull
yourself up from the ground. Go ahead, you won't
fall; that's it; now, put your leg over, and there you
are. After two or three times you'll be all right."</p>
<p>As he spoke thus, Hugh stepped into his own
saddle and, stooping, began to gather up his rope
which was still on the ground, and then lifting his
bridle rein, his horse started to walk toward the
house. Jack sat on his horse, feeling a little queer
and wondering what he should do when his horse
began to move. But it did not move; it stood
there with its head hanging down as if asleep. In a
moment Hugh looked around and called out, "Come
on, son, lift your bridle rein and put your heel
against his side and he'll start." Jack did this, and
his horse seemed to wake up, and moved on.</p>
<p>As they rode on, side by side, Hugh explained to
Jack which hand he should hold his reins in, how to
guide his horse, by moving his hand to the left or
to the right, so that the reins would press on the
side of the neck away from that toward which he
wished to turn, and how to hold on to his horse
with his legs. He told him a good deal about riding
and roping and handling horses and cattle, but
much of it Jack hardly understood, and perhaps
Hugh thought of this, for in a little while he began
to point out the different hills and stream valleys,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span>
and to tell Jack the name of each. He showed him
the points of the compass, and explained to him how
to guess the direction by the position of the sun in
the sky.</p>
<p>They were riding along the foot of the mountain,
and crossing little valleys with steep ridges between.
Down each valley ran a foaming brook and on each
ridge grew sage-brush, and among the sage-brush
were many great rocks, most of them smoothed and
polished. A little way off, these big stones sometimes
looked like animals lying down.</p>
<p>"We're going over to look at some cows that
we've been keeping in this pasture all winter," said
Hugh, as they rode up one of the hillsides. "They're
right tame and we can ride right in among them.
They're beginning to have their calves now, and I
like to go over every day and look at 'em, to try to
keep 'em together. There's lots of coyotes around,
and they take a calf now and then, if they can get
it and its mother away from the bunch. I put some
baits out the last heavy snow we had, and got five of
'em, and the next snow that comes I'll put out some
more. They're getting pretty smart though, and
don't take poison like they used to in old times."</p>
<p>"How do you manage to poison them, Hugh?"
asked Jack. Hugh did not answer, but pointed
across a valley to a bit of hillside that had just come
in view, and said, "There's a bunch of coyotes now
trying to get a calf. Come on." And without a
word more he galloped away. Jack had just time
to see that he was riding toward an animal about
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span>
which a lot of smaller animals were dancing, when
suddenly old Grey threw up his head and began to
gallop after Hugh, and for a few minutes Jack had
all he could do to keep from falling off his horse, as
it wound in and out among the rocks and the sage-brush.
It seemed pretty rough riding, and he had
an awful pain in his side, but pretty soon his horse
stopped galloping and began to walk, and he saw
that he was near Hugh, who was sitting on his horse,
looking at a cow, close by which stood a little tottering
calf. The cow seemed angry and shook her
head as if she would like to charge on the horses.</p>
<p>"Look at that fool of a critter," said the old man,
"she left the bunch and came near losing her calf
by coyotes, and now she wants to fight us for
driving them off. I always did say that cows had
no sense."</p>
<p>"Were those coyotes that were running around?
I could not see very well, because old Grey was
going so fast, and I had a hard time to keep from
falling off," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Well, well, you'll have to learn to stick on to
your horse. I forgot that you wan't used to riding.
We'll sure have to practise riding," said Hugh.
"Now, let's drive this heifer over to the bunch.
She's in big luck that she didn't lose that calf,
young as it is."</p>
<p>"I thought coyotes were little animals, and I
should think that a big cow could keep them away,
and that all the calf would have to do would be to
stay close to its mother."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span>
"That would be all right, son, if the cow and
calf had just a little bit of sense, but you see that's
just what they ain't got. The coyotes get around
them, and first one and then another makes a dash
at the cow and tries to make her mad, or to scare
her calf away from her. If the calf leaves its mother
only a little way it gets a bite, and if the cow gets
mad and begins to chase the coyotes, very likely
the calf gets left behind, and may be gets two or
three bites, or even gets pulled down. The only
safe place for a calf is right close by its mother's
side. Now, I believe that cow has quieted down, so
that we can start her toward the bunch. You stop
here till I see."</p>
<p>Hugh rode toward the cow, calling at her, and
after a moment she turned and walked away from
him, the calf staggering at her side. "Come on,"
called Hugh. "She'll go all right now."</p>
<p>They rode on behind the cow for a mile or two,
and then, after crossing a ridge, saw down in the
flat before them more than a hundred cows and
calves. They rode down among them, when the
cow that they had been driving stopped, and then
after Hugh had looked at some of the animals, he
said, "Now, I am going up there where there's a
warm spot to smoke. After that, we'll go back to
the house."</p>
<p>A little way up the valley was a clump of trees,
and near these the two stopped, dismounted, and
threw down their reins and sat down, while the
horses fed near by.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER VI<br />
<span class="medium">AN ANCIENT MASSACRE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>It was warm and pleasant where they sat, in the
sun and out of the wind, though on the mountain
behind them great drifts of snow lay in the ravines.
Hugh had taken from his pocket a black wooden
pipe and a plug of tobacco, and was shaving off the
tobacco into the palm of his hand. Soon he had a
pipeful, and crushing it between his palms, he filled
his pipe and lighted it. As he leaned back and
blew out the streams of white smoke from his
nostrils, he pointed to a near-by hill and said:</p>
<p>"We'll go around that hill going back, and I'll
show you a place where there was quite a killing of
Indians a good many years back. It was before my
time in this country, more than forty years ago, but
I knew some of the men that was in the fight, if you
can call it a fight where there wasn't no fighting.
There's lots of old lodge poles and bones lying on
the ground there yet, and I can remember years
ago, they was old rotten robes and all kinds of truck
lying around. The men that did the killing didn't
carry anything away. They just killed everything
in the camp that was alive, and then went off and
left it."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span>
"I think I've heard my uncle tell about that, but
I wish you would tell me the story, Hugh. I'd like
to hear it," said Jack.</p>
<p>"I'll tell you all I've heard of it, but let's wait
till we get to the place. Now we've got to sit here
and smoke, and then we'll go home that way, and
then this afternoon I want you to take your rifle
and come out and we'll see how it's sighted. Then
maybe in two or three days we'll go out and kill a
buck antelope. That's about the only meat that's
good now. Well," he continued after a time, as he
knocked the ashes from his pipe, "let's be moving.
Let's see you mount now. That's good.</p>
<p>"Now, we'll have to ride a little faster if we're
going to stop at that old killing ground. So come
on. Try to hold your saddle tight between your
legs, and swing with your horse. You'll get into it
in only a short while. Come on, now."</p>
<p>Hugh started his horse, and Jack did the same,
and they galloped off together. At first the boy
bounced about a good deal, but after a little he
began to see what Hugh meant, and by sitting back
a little in the saddle and easing himself with his toes
when the horse struck the ground, he sat more comfortably,
and before he had gone very far he began
to enjoy his ride. The cool wind blew against his
face and through his hair, the sun was bright, little
birds rose from the prairie as they galloped along,
and it was very pleasant. He looked up at Hugh,
who was watching him with a kindly smile, and
laughed outright. "It's splendid, isn't it?" he said.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span>
Hugh answered something, but the wind blew his
words away.</p>
<p>Presently Hugh drew in his horse and they turned
and rode up over a little hill and stopped, looking
across a narrow valley through which a little stream
flowed. On the other side, only a short way off, in
a half circle, rose another hill on which grew many
cedar bushes among the great rocks. In the valley
many grey sticks were lying on the ground, and here
and there among the sticks were spots of white.
"There's the place," said Hugh, "where the camp
was wiped out. Let's 'light down here, and I'll fill
my pipe and tell you the story."</p>
<p>When his pipe was going well he turned to Jack,
and said: "It was a camp of fifteen lodges of 'Rapahoes,
and the white men was a bunch of thirty
trappers. This is the way I heard it. It was more
than forty years ago that a war-party of 'Rapahoes
attacked a small train of emigrants and killed them
all, except one young boy about as old as you, who
hid in the brush when the charge was made. A few
days later a couple of trappers came along that way
and found the boy. He told them the story, and
when they looked around over the place where the
killing was done, they found that it was 'Rapahoes
that done it. These two men took the boy with
them, and they made up their minds that the 'Rapahoes
had got to sweat for this, and when they got
into the Fort they told other men about it, and they
all figured on it the same way.</p>
<p>"This killing was done in the summer, and the next
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span>
spring, when the men were coming in from their
trapping they camped somewheres near here in the
hills, and stopped two or three days. Before they
started on into the Fort, one of the men who was
out hunting saw a camp of Indians coming—a small
party—and he watched 'em until they camped, and
then crawled up close to the lodges. After he'd
watched them awhile, he made out that they were
'Rapahoes, and he took the news to camp. The
men there turned out, and during the night they got
all around the Indians and cached on the hillside
among the cedars and rocks. You can think how it
must have been that night, the lodges all standing
here white in the darkness, and the men lying hid
on the hillside waiting for day. At last it began to
grow grey in the east, and then light, and pretty
soon a smoke began to come from one lodge and
then from another, and then a man stepped out, or
a woman started down to the creek to get water, or
a boy to bring in the horses, and then the first shot
came and the people began to run out, and to run
this away and that away, but as fast as they came
out they were shot down. After all the people
were killed, they killed the dogs and horses;
everything that there was alive, and then they
went away. They never went down into the
camp."</p>
<p>He paused to relight his pipe, and Jack said:
"But how did they know that these were the people
who killed the emigrants?"</p>
<p>"They didn't," said Hugh, "but they knew that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span>
they were 'Rapahoes. That's the way it used to be
in them days; if a Piegan or a Sioux, or a Cheyenne
killed a white man, his friends killed the next Indian
they met of the tribe that had done the killing.
The Indians did the same, and many a man has been
killed in revenge for something that he had never
heard of."</p>
<p>"That seems very unfair," said Jack, "I never
heard of anything like it before."</p>
<p>"Well, it don't seem just right; that's so," said
Hugh, "but anyhow, that's the way it used to be in
old times. Come on now. Let's go down to where
the camp stood."</p>
<p>They rode down to the little flat and stopped
their horses in the middle of this old camp-ground.
Hugh pointed to several spots where there were a
few broken, bent and weathered sticks, and said:
"You see, the lodges stood wherever you see those
lodge poles. If you look in the middle of each of
those circles you will find the old ashes of the fire
and the stones that were around it. See here!"
Dismounting, he walked to one of the circles and
picked up two or three pieces of charred wood,
which he held up. "That fire once cooked a man's
dinner, and look here!" he added, stooping down
and feeling in the dirt for something which he released
with a hard pull "Here's a knife, a regular
old-fashioned bowie-knife; what we used to call an
Arkansas toothpick." He knocked the heavy blade
against a stone, to free it from the dirt which clung
to it, and passed it to Jack.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span>
"Why, what a big knife," said Jack. "It's almost
like a sword; but it isn't very sharp."</p>
<p>"Not very," said Hugh, "but notice how it's
whetted, round on one side and flat on the other.
That's the way Indians always whet their knives.
Queer, isn't it? Let's look around for something
more. Let your horse go, after you've thrown
down the reins; he won't move." The two separated
and began to look over the ground, and in a
moment Jack called out in a solemn way. "Oh,
Hugh, look here; see what I have found!" and as
the old man came up to him, he pointed out a human
skull that lay half buried in the dirt in a little
washout. "That's one of 'em," said Hugh, as he
picked it up. It was very old, grey with weather,
and all the teeth had fallen out. Higher up the hill
were splinters of bones and even some whole bones
of legs and arms, and sticking out of the ground
among them was a long piece of iron, which when
dragged from its resting-place, proved to be a rifle
barrel.</p>
<p>"Well, now," remarked Hugh, "if we keep this
up we'll have a horse-load of truck to pack home
with us."</p>
<p>They looked further, gathering up one thing after
another, and at length when they were ready to go
home they had five Indian skulls, the rifle barrel,
the knife, an old-fashioned T. Gray axe, such as was
used in trade with the Indians in early days, some
pieces of the wood of saddles, a couple of elk-horn
fleshers and a stone scraper. All these things were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span>
very old; the iron deeply rusted, the bones and
wood grey and split with age and weather.</p>
<p>Hugh bundled these things into his coat and tied
it on behind his saddle, and they set out for the
ranch. Just as they got to the corral, the dinner
horn sounded, and after unsaddling and putting
their treasures upon the roof, which Hugh easily
reached from the ground, they went to the house.
Jack thought that he had never tasted a dinner
quite as good as that one, and when he had finished
he felt quite uncomfortable.</p>
<p>A little while after dinner, Hugh said to Jack:
"Now, son, go in and bring out your rifle, and let's
see how it's sighted and how it pulls off. A man
always must learn how his gun shoots before he can
expect to kill anything. I've seen young fellows
from the States come out to hunt, and start in and
shoot away a heap of ammunition without hitting
anything, and come to find out, they had never
sighted their guns, and didn't know anything about
where they shot. 'Course they couldn't hit anything.
You get a box of ca'tridges and your gun,
and we'll try to find out just what it can do, and
afterwards what you can do."</p>
<p>When the gun was in his hands he explained its
working to his hearer, and then took it apart, put it
together again, and told Jack to do this, correcting
his mistakes and telling him a good deal about guns
in general and this gun in particular. Then he
proposed to go out on the prairie to shoot at a
mark, and told Jack to carry his gun and to hold it
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span>
so it would not point at any one. "I'm always scary
about a gun," he said, "and the older I get the more
afraid of 'em I am. I've seen a heap of accidents
in my time from guns, and once, when I was young,
I came near killing my best friend, just by foolishness.
So I like to see everybody as careful of a
gun as he knows how to be. You've been told, I
expect, never to point your gun at anything except
what you mean to shoot at. This business of sighting
your gun at people and animals, and saying to
yourself, 'Oh, couldn't I just hit that,' is just baby
play, and I don't think there's any need to tell you
not to do that. There's another thing. Don't carry
a ca'tridge in your gun unless you're expecting game
to jump up in front of you any time. Don't carry
your gun loaded on your horse. Something may
happen. You may kill the man you're riding with,
or his horse, or your own horse. In old times we
had to carry our guns loaded, but since we've got
these britch-loaders it ain't needful. I expect you'd
feel mighty mean if you killed a man, just by your
carelessness, or if he killed you the same way. I
came mighty near getting killed that way once by
an Indian I was travelling with. We sat down side
by side on top of a high hill to look over the country,
and he had his rifle across his knees with the
muzzle pointing toward me, and he was playing
with the hammer of his gun, raising and lowering it.
I didn't like it very much, and got up and walked
away, thinking I'd come back and sit down on the
other side of him. In less than a minute after I
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span>
moved, his gun went off, and if I had been sitting
there the ball would have gone through me. I was
scared some when I thought how near I'd come to
being bored through, but I wasn't a patch on the
Indian. He was scared grey. You see it was
known that he and I were together, and if he had
killed me by accident, it would have been hard for
him to prove it, and he'd likely have got killed for
murdering me.</p>
<p>"We'll try the gun at that hill over there. Do
you see that white rock, the small one to the left of
that sage-bush? That's about a hundred yards
away. Load your gun and shoot at that. First
sight at the rock. See that the top of the foresight
just shows over the notch of the hind sight. Hold
the gun tight to your shoulder and pull the trigger
slowly. Try to hold your gun steady on the mark,
and when the sight is on it, pull. Don't load it
yet."</p>
<p>Jack had been listening carefully and trying to
remember all that Hugh had said to him, and now
he raised the rifle to his shoulder and sighted at
the stone. He was surprised to see how large it
looked through the sights of the rifle, and how it
seemed to jump about. He could not hold the
gun steady, and at last took it down, saying, "I
can't hold it still."</p>
<p>"Try it a few times, and then you can fire a shot.
Put your gun up and, as soon as the foresight is on
the mark, pull." Jack did this two or three times,
and the last time said, "That time I think I would
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span>
have hit it." "Good," said Hugh. "Now put a
ca'tridge in the gun and shoot. Remember, you
must keep the butt of your gun pressed close to your
shoulder. If you don't do that, the gun will kick
your shoulder and hurt. I don't want that to
happen, it might spoil your shooting." Jack put a
cartridge in the gun, closed the breech, and partly
raised the gun to his shoulder.</p>
<p>"Haven't you forgot something?" said Hugh.</p>
<p>"I don't know; what?" answered Jack.</p>
<p>"We most generally cock our guns before we
shoot," said Hugh, drily. A little ashamed, Jack
cocked his gun, aimed and fired. At the report he
was pushed back a little, but he was made glad by
seeing a little puff of dust rise from the ground
somewhere near the stone.</p>
<p>"That was a right good shot," said Hugh earnestly.
"If you can do as well as that every time
we'll be sending you out to get meat for the ranch
pretty soon. The ball struck the ground only two
or three inches to the left of the rock. That shot
would have killed an antelope if you'd aimed at his
heart. Try another, and let's see if you can do it
again."</p>
<p>The second shot was not quite so good, and when
Jack took down the gun he said to Hugh: "It
kicked harder that time."</p>
<p>"Not so," was the reply, "you forgot to hold the
butt close to your shoulder, as I told you to. You
must always do that. After a little, you will do it
without thinking about it. Now let me fire two or
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span>
three shots. I want to see how the sights are myself."</p>
<p>He fired several shots, the first two striking a little
above the mark, the third just below it, while the
fourth did not knock up any dust, but seemed to jar
the stone, and was followed by a curious screaming
sound, loud at first, and quickly dying away. "That
was the ball singing," said he, in answer to Jack's
question. "The lead hit the rock and glanced off
and went sailing away over the prairie. You must
just see the tip of the foresight on the mark. Draw
it fine. If you pull the trigger when it's there, you
will hit every time."</p>
<p>An hour more was spent in shooting at this mark,
and before it was over, Jack had come to understand
a great deal about his gun, and had received
much praise from his teacher. "You're doing well,
my son, and it won't take you long to learn how to
shoot. If you pick up riding, roping and packing
as easily as you do shooting, your uncle will be hiring
you to work for wages before snow flies. Now
let's go up to the house and wipe out the gun."</p>
<p>After Hugh had shown Jack how to clean his
rifle, and had explained to him the importance of
keeping it clean, free from rust and sand, and always
ready for use under all circumstances, he said, "Of
course, in these days we don't have to look out for
enemies like we used to in old times. Nowadays
the wars are pretty much over in these parts, yet of
course there's plenty of places where the Indians are
bad yet, and nobody knows when they'll make
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span>
trouble anywhere. Why, nobody will ever know
how many people got killed there when they were
building the railroad back on the plains. I scouted
from Julesburg west to Cheyenne at that time, and
it was an everyday matter to find two or three
graders stuck full of arrows along the track. That
was the time when the Pawnee scouts were guarding
the road, and it was fun to see them fellows get
out when there was an alarm and chase the hostiles.
Them Pawnees just loved a fight, and they had
never been whipped when Major North was leading
them, so they did not know what fear was. They'd
turn out at any time of the day or night and chase
the Sioux and Cheyennes as long as their horses
could run. It was a picnic for them.</p>
<p>"I had some good friends in that camp. One
fellow, especially, that they called Itching Buffalo,
was brave, and he had powerful medicine. They
said he had been down into one of them houses
where the medicine animals have their councils.
The others used to say that he couldn't be killed,
and it's sure that he was always in the front of the
fighting and never got hit. There's surely something
queer about Indian medicine. Take old
Whirlwind, the Cheyenne, in that fight he had with
the Sacs. Every feather was cut from his war bonnet,
but not a bullet hit him, nor his medicine that
he carried on it.</p>
<p>"But I'm forgetting that you don't know anything
about these things. It's likely you will though,
if you and I are much together. What I started to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span>
say was this. In old times a man's life often depended
on his having his gun ready for use. If he
went out for his horse, picketed close to camp, or
went for wood, or down to the creek for water, he
carried his gun with him, and it was always in good
order and ready for use. It isn't that way here or
now, but it may be so yet. So you'd better learn
to keep your gun clean, and to have it with you
always. It ain't much trouble to learn this, and it
may save your life sometime.</p>
<p>"Well, there comes the men with a bunch of
horses. Let's go down to the corral and look 'em
over."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER VII<br />
<span class="medium">HUGH CHASED BY INDIANS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Jack's first long ride had made him pretty sore;
all his muscles pained him. Hugh said he must
keep riding and soon he would be all right.</p>
<p>For several days after this, Hugh and Jack rode
together, and each day they went a little further
and in a new direction. Each day Jack found riding
easier, and before long he felt perfectly at home on
Old Grey. Each day after they got home from the
ride, they took the rifle down on the flat in front of
the house and fired a number of shots at the white
rock, and several times Jack hit it, and all his shots
were good ones, and the bullets struck close to the
mark. Hugh was pleased with the boy's steadiness
and told him that before long they would go out
and take a hunt.</p>
<p>Besides the rifle-shooting Jack was learning something
about horses and how to use them. Now,
when he went into the corral with Hugh, he no
longer felt afraid that the horses would run over
him. The day after their first ride, Hugh and Jack
led Old Grey up to a big section of a cottonwood
log that Mrs. Carter used in mounting her horse,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span>
and, standing on this, Jack saddled and bridled the
grey. Hugh showed him how to do it, and then
stood by and watched, and when Jack did anything
wrong, he corrected him, and helped him change it.
After two or three days Jack understood how to
saddle up so well that Hugh no longer watched
him.</p>
<p>One day Jack had his first lesson in roping—what
he had always read of as lassoing. Hugh
called the rope a lassrope, or a reata—this being a
Spanish word meaning rope. The two took a rope
and went into the big corral, and for a time practised
throwing at the snubbing post, which stood in its
centre. Hugh showed Jack just how it was done,
and after he had thrown the rope two or three times
he handed it to Jack, and told him to coil it and to
throw it. In two or three days Jack found that he
could catch the post about half the time, and that
throwing the rope, which at first had seemed to him
such hard work, was very easy. Several times he
caught Old Grey in the corral. After he had come
to understand as much as this, Hugh had him practise
on horseback, showing him how to throw from
the saddle, and how to fasten his rope by two or
three turns about the horn, so as to hold anything
that he might catch with the noose. He warned
him how to handle his rope in taking the turns
around the horn, with the thumb and finger held up,
not down, so that he should not get them caught
under the rope, for many men have lost their fingers
in this way, having them cut off between the rope
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span>
and the horn when the pull came in throwing a
steer. So it was that as they rode along, Jack would
throw the rope at one sage-bush after another, pulling
up those which he caught and then gathering
the rope for a fresh throw. This was pretty good
fun, and when he grew tired of it, he would coil up
his rope and hang it on his saddle by the loop that
was fastened there to hold it, and then he and Hugh
would talk about the things they saw, and those
that Hugh had seen and heard in his long life on
the prairie.</p>
<p>The whole of each day was passed in the open air;
and this life, so different from that led by the boy
in his city home, soon began to affect his health
and his spirits. His appetite increased enormously,
his flesh began to harden, and his face, under exposure
to the keen cool wind and the unshadowed
rays of the sun, to take on a hue of brown that
it had never shown before. Each night he was
heartily and healthily tired, and an hour or two
after supper he went to bed, where he slept like a
log until called next morning. Each day began
with the sun and was enjoyed through every hour.
As he became accustomed to his horse, Hugh taught
him to mount from the right side, as the Indians
do, and urged him to learn to ride bareback, telling
him of the skill shown by the Indians in their war
and hunting trips, when they use no saddle, but
cling to the naked horse.</p>
<p>After he had been a week at the ranch, his uncle
told Jack that he was going to send in to the railroad,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span>
and advised him to write to his mother, and
to tell her that it might be a month or more before
she would again hear from him, and the boy did so,
sending a long and enthusiastic account of the place
and the people. Mr. Sturgis also wrote to his sister
and brother-in-law, telling what Jack's life had been
up to that time, of the marked interest felt by the
boy in all that he saw and did, and of his changed
appearance and improved health. These letters
made two people in the distant city very happy.</p>
<p>One afternoon, after they had been practising
with the rifle, and had cleaned and put it away,
Hugh said to Jack, "Now, son, to-morrow, unless
your uncle wants me to do something else, we'll
ride over toward Sand Creek and see if we can't
kill something. Mrs. Carter says we're about out
of meat, and she wants me to kill an antelope. Let
me see that butcher knife of yours that I took off
your belt the other day. If it's a new one it'll need
grinding, of course."</p>
<p>Jack ran and brought the knife, and Hugh looked
at it and tried its edge on his thumb. "Yes," said
he, "it's just out of the shop and we'll have to put
an edge on it. No telling till I get it on the stone
what sort of a piece of steel it is. Come on and
turn for me and I'll find out."</p>
<p>They went down to the blacksmith's shop, and
while Jack turned the handle of the grindstone,
Hugh ground the knife and afterwards whetted it
on the oil-stone until its edge was keen. "'Pears
to me," he said, "that this is a pretty good knife.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span>
I expect your uncle bought it for you! Most
young fellows that come out here carry a dirk knife
with a big bone handle and a guard, that ain't no
earthly use except in a fight, and they don't expect
to fight; they expect to use the knife to butcher
with. What you want is just a common skinning
knife, such as a butcher uses—what you've got here.
Now put it back in your sheath, and if we have any
luck to-morrow, you'll have a chance to try it."</p>
<p>When they had left the shop and walked up to
the house, and Hugh had seated himself on the
ground in the sun, and Jack had thrown himself
down beside him, the boy said: "Hugh, you spoke
the other day about the Pawnees, and said you had
seen them and had some friends among them. I
wish you'd tell me about them. I've read about
them in Cooper's novels. Don't you remember that
Leather Stocking when he got very old lived among
the Pawnees, and had the young chief Hard Heart,
for his son. He must have been a splendid man.
I remember the description of the fight, when he
killed the Dakota chief. It was fine."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I never knew any of them
people; likely they were before my time, but the
story you read was likely true, for them Pawnees
has surely killed plenty Sioux. I expect there's
nothing a Pawnee likes better than to get at the
Sioux. I have seen quite a few Pawnees in my
time, and I've stopped some in their villages, and
they're good people, no mistake about that. They
are kind, and they give you the best they've got;
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span>
and they're brave. I don't want to be with better
people. Some of 'em helped me out of a bad fix
once, and I ain't never forgot it. That's the
time I saw the prettiest horse I ever looked at. It
was while I was scouting up at the end of the track
that I saw him. He belonged to an Indian,—Sioux
or Cheyenne, I expect—anyhow they were hostiles,
and they chased me, and if I had had far to go, I
expect they'd have caught me. They might have
done so anyhow if it hadn't been for them Pawnees.</p>
<p>"I had gone out from the graders' camp to see if
I couldn't get an antelope, for the camp was clean
out of fresh meat. I rode up out of the valley, and
along on the high prairie, back from the creek, but
not too far back, for I expected likely I'd get
jumped, and I wanted to have a good show to make
a run for it. There hadn't been no Indians seen
for quite a while, and the boys working on the
track were getting pretty bold. One of them even
wanted to go hunting with me. He didn't have no
horse to ride, said he would go afoot, that he could
keep up, if I didn't ride too fast. I told him he
had better stop in camp if he wanted to keep his
hair safe, and, anyhow, he couldn't go with me. I
knew that because Indians hadn't been seen, that
didn't signify there weren't none in the country.
The more you don't see them fellows—when you're
in a hostile country—the harder you've got to look
out for 'em. And there was a company, or part of
a company, of Major North's Pawnees camped about
ten or fifteen miles further up the creek, and I
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span>
expected that the Sioux, if there was any about,
would cut in behind the Pawnees, and likely tackle
the graders' camp, if they saw any show to get away
with it. Well, I hadn't gone more'n a couple of
miles or so before I came over a little rise, and saw
a buck antelope feeding, in easy shot. I killed him
and tied him to the saddle, and started back to
camp; but I hadn't gone far when I saw three
Indians come in sight, right between me and the
camp. They saw me as soon as I did them, and as
soon as they saw me, they charged. They were
quite a ways off, maybe a mile or more; but that
did not give me much time to fool away. I cut
loose the meat from my saddle, and started for the
bluffs, thinking I'd get down into the creek valley,
and either head them and get to camp, or else ride
for the Pawnee camp. When I got to the bluffs,
looking all the time for a place to get down, by
George! I couldn't see one; it was so steep, even
in the best place, that you couldn't get no horse
down, without he had wings. Of course a man
could have clumb down afoot, but not a horse.
Well, the Indians were a-coming all the time, and one
of 'em was nigh a half mile ahead of the other two;
those two had not gained much, but the fellow in
the lead, he was surely a-coming. While I was
looking for a place to get down I'd noticed a little
point running out into the valley, with three pines
on it, and I made for them, for I says to myself, 'I
ain't a-going to let them fellows have this horse, and
then get killed afoot.'</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span>
"I got to the trees and stopped and got off. The
lead Indian kept a-coming; and, sir, he surely had a
good horse. It was a big iron-grey, powerful and
swift, I could tell by the way he overhauled my
horse, for mine wan't no slouch, and I hadn't let
him linger much by the way. Why, when that
grey's foot struck the ground it seemed like he was
galloping on cushions, it was so easy. The Indian
came up to within about four hundred yards of the
trees, and then he wheeled his horse and rode off in
a wide circle and met his party, and they stopped
and talked a while, and then they started and
charged straight at me. They did not worry me
much, for I knew they wouldn't come right close,
and they couldn't get around me. If they'd been
able to circle in behind me, I expect they'd have
bothered me considerable. As it was, I kept watching
that grey horse, and thinking about him, and
figuring to see if there wasn't some way I could get
hold of him; but I did not see any. The Indians
kept a-charging up and a-charging up, every time
coming a little closer. One of them had a gun, and
every time they turned off, he would shoot toward
me; but they were too far off to hit anything.
You see, in them days, britch-loaders weren't very
common anywhere, and the Indians, of course, knew
less about 'em than white people. They calculated
on my having a muzzle-loader, and were trying to
tempt me to shoot, so as to make a charge when my
gun was empty, and finish me before I could load.
I had a little britch-loading Sharp's rifle, with paper
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span>
cartridges, but I could load pretty fast if I had to,
could beat a muzzle-loader all to death.</p>
<p>"At last the Indians came up so close that I
made up my mind I would give them a shot, and I
thought I would try the man riding the grey, just
on the chance that if I killed him, the grey might
keep on towards my horse and I would get a chance
to catch him. I stood up against the tree and took
a careful aim at the man, shooting plenty high, for
they were a long shot off. Just as I pulled though,
the man I was shooting at swung his horse, and my
ball went by him and killed the horse of the man
behind him. It fell, and the rider jumped up and
ran off, jumping from side to side, like he was
plenty scared I would shoot at him. They all
stopped away out of range and began to talk again,
when, all of a sudden, I saw six more men ride up
in sight, quite a long way off. Thinks I to myself,
'If these is more Sioux, I am surely in for it now;'
but in a moment I noticed that these six men were
coming in pairs, the way soldiers ride, and then I
knew it was a bunch of Pawnees. I ran to untie my
horse and charge out, but the Sioux had seen the
Pawnees as soon as I did, and they had just everlastingly
lit out over the prairie. The Pawnees
struck out after the Sioux, and by the time I was in
the saddle and riding, they were a couple of miles
ahead of me, and going hard. I knew it was no use
for me to run my horse down trying to catch them,
so I rode out to where I had dropped my meat,
picked it up, and went back to the graders' camp.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span>
"The next day I went up to the Pawnee camp,
for I kept thinking about that grey horse, and if the
Pawnees had captured him, I wanted to buy him.
I knew that they would understand just as well
as I did how good a horse he was, and I thought
likely that if they had got him, they would not sell
him; but I was going to make a bluff at buying
him, anyhow. When I got to the camp I talked
a while with Major North's brother, who was in
command there, and at last told him about the
chase that they had had yesterday, and how the
Sioux had had me cornered. I said I wanted to see
one of the Indians that was in the fight. When
the head man of these six came to the tent, I saw
that it was old Ikūts tárūsh, and I talked with him
about the chase, and asked him what they had done.
He said that they had killed two of the Sioux.
Then I asked him about the grey horse, and
whether they had got it. He shook his head.</p>
<p>"'No,' he said, 'that horse got killed. The horse and
the two men who were riding him were both killed,
and the other man and his horse got away.' I don't
know when I've been more sorry about the death of
any dumb beast, that wasn't a dog, than I was that
time. Ikūts tárūsh was sorry too."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER VIII<br />
<span class="medium">JACK'S FIRST ANTELOPE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>After breakfast next morning, Hugh and Jack
saddled their horses and set out for Sand Creek.
Before they started, Hugh brought out from the
house a gun sling which he fastened to Jack's saddle
on the left side. It was like a long narrow leather
bag open at both ends, and held by two long straps,
one of which passed over the horn of the saddle,
while the other was tied behind the cantle, so that
the bag lay along the horse's side under the left
hand stirrup leather, and just below where the
rider's knee would come. Then he slipped the rifle
in, so that the stock lay along the horse's shoulder
and within easy reach of the hand. This, he told
Jack, was the best way to carry his rifle, and
although at first the gun seemed in Jack's way, and
a little uncomfortable, he soon got used to feeling it
there.</p>
<p>The day was bright and pleasant, and skirting the
base of the mountain for two or three miles, they
rode over the ridge which separates the waters of
Sand Creek from the Muddy. The prairie was
everywhere the same dull brown; a few cattle and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span>
horses were seen feeding on the distant hillsides.
Far away toward the Sand Creek, Hugh pointed
out a number of white dots on the prairie, which he
told Jack were antelope. He said to him:</p>
<p>"Now, son, when we get near those antelope,
who is going to do the hunting, you or me?"</p>
<p>"Why, I don't know, Hugh. I've been wondering
about that. You know what it is best to do,
and if you will tell me, I'll try to do just as you
say."</p>
<p>"That's good, son," said Hugh, "I want you to
kill the meat, if we get any, but it's a heap better for
you to start in right to learn how to hunt than it is
for you to kill anything. I guess the best way is
for me to do the hunting for a little while, so that
you can watch me and learn. Now, I'll tell you two
or three things about hunting that it's worth while
for you to remember. When you're hunting,
always go alone if you can, or else with one other
man, if you and he understand each other. You'll
never have any luck if you hunt with a man who is
always crazy to be ahead. If he acts that way, you
just quit him and don't go with him again. Such a
man will everlastingly scare away the game, and
he'll wear out your patience, and make you wish he
was somewhere else a good many times before you
get to camp. If you're alone you'll have yourself
to blame for any blunders you make, and it's easy
for you to forgive yourself for the fool things you do,
but it ain't easy to forgive any one else. If you're
hunting with a man who understands how to hunt
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span>
better'n you do, let him do the hunting, and, if he
wants it bad, let him do the shooting too. But I
wouldn't hunt with a man that makes a hog of himself,
if I was you.</p>
<p>"If you're hunting with another man, always
have it understood who is to hunt and who is to
shoot. Don't ever hunt side by side with any one.
Two men are twice as easy seen as one, and make
twice as much noise; so they are more likely to be
noticed by the game. You can bet that the game
is always on the watch, and, do the best you can,
it is pretty likely to see you. So you want to go
slow, and to be just as careful as you know how.
When you get to the top of the hill, go mighty
slow. Only take a step or two at a time, and look
over every inch of the ground that you can see
beyond you, as your head rises. Always take your
hat off. A hat sticks up two or three inches higher
than your eyes, and can be seen before you can see
whatever it is that's looking at you. In the same
way you'll see the horns of an elk or an antelope
that's over the ridge from you before you see his head.</p>
<p>"When you see any game, don't dodge down
quick, so's to get out of sight. Even if the animal
seems to be looking right at you, don't move, or, if
you do, lower your head very slowly. The chances
are that the animal hasn't seen you, or if it has,
that it don't know what you are, and if you keep
still, it won't notice you. Likely after staring at
you for a minute or two, it'll look some other way,
or put down its head to take a bite of grass. Then
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span>
you must drop down out of sight and begin to crawl
to the top of the hill. You must remember that
when you see this head, there's the whole crest of
the hill between your shoulder, from which you
must shoot, and the antelope's heart that you must
shoot at. You've got to see the antelope's whole
body before you can shoot, and you've got to get up
to the top of the hill before you can see his whole
body. While you are getting to the top of the
hill, you must watch out and not show yourself,
either to the animal you have seen, or to any others
that there are with it. Likely as not there will be
six or eight others in the bunch, scattered about on
the hillside, and all of 'em keeping a good look-out.
To get a standing shot, you must keep out of sight
of all of 'em. For a part of the way to the top of
the hill you can go stooping down low, then you'll
have to get down on your hands and knees and
creep, and at last you'll have to drop flat on your
belly and crawl. If the grass is any way thick and
high, you won't have much trouble, but if it's short
and thin, maybe the antelope will see you and run off.</p>
<p>"Remember to keep your head down, and don't
feel that you've got to look every two or three
minutes to see whether the game is there or not.
It won't run without it gets scared, and if it starts
to run, your looking won't stop it. When, by
crawling as carefully as you know how, you've got
up so you can see your animal again, wait until it
puts its head down to feed, or looks away from
you, and then raise your head a little bit to see if
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span>
there are any others with it, so as to get an idea of
the general situation. When you raise your head,
if you can see the whole body of your antelope,
you had better shoot. If the animal is broadside
toward you, shoot at his heart; if head toward you,
at the point of his breast; if tail toward you, shoot
between the hams, about three inches below the tail;
if quartering to you, at the point of the shoulder, or,
if quartering from you, at the flank, just in front
of the ham. You want your bullet to go through
the heart, and you must remember that the heart
lies just back of the fore legs, and low down. The
life lies low. Don't forget that. There is a little
curl of hair on an antelope just back of the elbow,
and here the hair is thin, and the dark skin shows
through and makes this curl look black. That is
the mark I always shoot at, if I can. An antelope
hit there don't go far.</p>
<p>"Now, it ain't much use for me to tell you all
these things, because you've got to see 'em done
and to do 'em yourself before you can know much
about hunting, but maybe what I've told you will
make it easier for you to learn.</p>
<p>"There's one thing I ain't told you about, because
I suppose you know all about it without being
told. That's the wind. All animals are terrible
keen smellers, and of course you can't never get up
to them from the windward side. You've always
got to go to leeward. Let the wind blow from
them to you, not from you to them."</p>
<p>"I think I understand all that you've told me,"
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span>
said Jack, "and I'll try to remember it. Do you
think we'll get any game to-day?"</p>
<p>"Oh, we'll sure see some antelope," answered
Hugh, "but maybe we won't find what we want in
a good place. You see, the does are going to have
young ones pretty soon now, and so I don't like to
kill 'em. The bucks are in better order, and if we
can find one of them in a place where we can get at
him, we'll try to kill him."</p>
<p>As they rode on farther and farther, the country
became more broken, and they passed over one
little ridge after another, with little valleys between.
They had almost reached the top of one of these
ridges, when Hugh suddenly stopped and looked
intently toward the right, where the valley widened
out a little. Jack stopped and looked too, but he
could see nothing except the brown prairie.</p>
<p>"See 'em?" said Hugh, after a moment.</p>
<p>"No, I don't see anything," replied Jack.</p>
<p>"Look down on the hillside, just above that little
alkali lake," said Hugh. "There's two antelope
there—old does, I reckon. We won't bother with
them. Likely they'll get our wind after we've gone
a little further, and run up by us."</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, I see them now," said Jack. They
crossed the next valley and rode up over the ridge
beyond, and as they went down that hill, Hugh
called out, "Here they come, sure enough;" and
looking to his right, Jack saw two antelope running
towards them very fast. They ran smoothly
and evenly, and as easily and fast up hill as down, or
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span>
on the level. In a moment they were passing quite
close in front of the riders, and had run up the hill
and disappeared over its crest.</p>
<p>"We've got to watch out now," said Hugh.
"We're liable to run on an antelope any minute.
Don't ride up over these hills in a hurry, and keep
a good look-out."</p>
<p>The next hill they came to, Hugh checked his
horse before he got to the top, and looked carefully
over the ground ahead. After doing this, he lifted
his bridle rein and let his horse take a few steps forward,
and then stopped again and looked. Then he
went forward again—quite to the top of the hill,
and looked again. Nothing was seen, and they
went on down into the valley and across it. Jack
noticed that as he went up the hill old Baldy seemed
to be looking just as his rider was. His ears were
pricked up; he moved slowly and carefully and
seemed to be expecting something all the time.
Each time they came to the crest of a hill the same
thing was repeated, but nothing was seen. At
length, however, after one of the looks, Hugh bent
low over his horse's neck, and at the same time
turned him round and rode down the hill again.
Jack, who had kept close to Hugh's side, had seen
nothing, for his head was a foot or two below the
old man's.</p>
<p>After they had got part way down the hill, Hugh
spoke in a low tone and said, "There's a couple of
antelope on the side hill just above here. They're
lying down, and I guess we can get up within shot.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span>
Throw down your rope and take your gun and come
on."</p>
<p>In a moment Jack was off his horse, and had
thrown down his bridle rein and his rope. Then he
pulled his rifle out of its case and went to Hugh,
who had taken his rifle from its case and stood waiting
for him. Jack was beginning to feel excited,
and his heart was pounding against his ribs, and as
he ran up to Hugh, he was not looking where he
was going, and he caught his foot in a sage-bush,
and would have fallen flat if Hugh had not reached
out his hand and caught him by the shoulder.</p>
<p>"Steady, son: steady," said Hugh. "Don't be
in such a rush. There's plenty of time, and if you're
going to do any hunting you mustn't go ramming
around this way. Go slow and easy. Those antelope
ain't going to run away unless we've scared
'em already, and if we've scared 'em, they're out of
shot by this time."</p>
<p>"Let's hurry, Hugh, and maybe we can get a shot
at them."</p>
<p>"Easy, easy. Don't I tell you that you can't
make anything by rushing 'round. I want you to
learn how to hunt, not to act like a rattlehead.
Now come with me and go slow and quiet, and we'll
take a look."</p>
<p>The two walked forward toward the mountain
for a hundred yards or so, Jack eagerly pressing
forward, while Hugh walked slowly. The wind was
now blowing in their faces. At length Hugh pointed
to their right and ahead, and said to Jack, "Now,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span>
those antelope are over the ridge there, lying down
on the hillside. Do you want me to go up and find
'em, and then come back and get you, so's you can
shoot at 'em, or would you rather go up yourself
and find 'em, and take the shot? You can do just
whichever you like."</p>
<p>"Oh, may I go up alone and do it all myself?
That'll be splendid. I'd rather do that than have
any help," said Jack, "Can I start now?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh. "Go ahead, but mind and be
careful, or else the first thing you know you'll see
them antelope a long way off. I'll set here and
smoke till I hear the shot." As he said this, Hugh
sat down on the ground, and putting his rifle beside
him, felt in his pocket for his pipe, while Jack went
on towards the hilltop. He walked very fast, keeping
his eyes fixed on the crest of the hill before him,
and before he had come to the top of the ridge he
was breathing pretty fast. As he got nearer to the
top, he began to be still more excited. He remembered
what Hugh had said about shooting at a particular
spot on the antelope, and he hoped he could
hit it. If he did, he felt sure that the antelope
would drop. It would be great to take the animal
in and be able to say that he had killed it, and not
Hugh. Suddenly, as he was thinking of these things,
he heard a queer noise off to his left, and then he
saw that he was on top of the hill and could see over
quite a good deal of the valley in front of him.
He thought that the antelope must be somewhere
near here. He began to look, very carefully, when
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span>
suddenly he again heard this curious noise, something
like a person blowing his nose, and looking
hard in the direction of the sound, he suddenly
saw two buck antelope running away from him not
very far off. They disappeared over a hill, and in a
moment were seen again much further off, running
up a high hill, on top of which they stopped and
stood looking at him, again making that curious
sound. He felt sure that they were the antelope
he had been looking for, and he was so disappointed
that he felt like crying, only that would do no good.
They were now much too far away to shoot at. He
watched them for a little while, and then began to
walk along the hilltop to make sure that there were
no more antelope there. He soon convinced himself
of this, and then turned to go back to Hugh.
Before he had gone far, he saw him coming, riding
his own horse and leading the grey.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I saw the antelope run off,
and so I brought the horses. What scared them?"</p>
<p>"I don't know, Hugh," was the answer, "but I
guess I did. I got up on the hill and was looking
around, and suddenly I heard some queer noises off
there, and then I heard them again, and then two
antelope ran over the hill and up on the mountain
there, and stopped and looked."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I expect you must have let
'em see you. You've got to be mighty careful when
you're crawling up on game."</p>
<p>Jack mounted his horse and rode off beside Hugh.
For a little while he kept still, thinking, and struggling
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span>
with his disappointment; then he spoke and
said:</p>
<p>"Hugh, I tried to be smart just now, and so I
lost those antelope. Because you have taught me
how to do a few things, I thought I could creep up
to those animals alone. I made a mistake and I
know it now. Don't let me make any more like it,
please."</p>
<p>Hugh's face lighted up with pleasure as he
heard these words, and he answered, "Son, I'm
mighty glad to hear you say this. You talk like a
man, and you're going to make a good one, I know
it. I figured quite a spell to-day before I made up
my mind what I'd do about them antelope, but I
was a little mite afraid you was getting the big-head,
and I thought I'd try you the way I did. If you'd
asked me to take you up to the antelope, you'd
have got the shot, and likely now we'd have been
butchering, but I expect it is better the way it is.
You've learned a lesson of one kind, and before the
day's over I'll give you a lesson in hunting. Come
on, now, let's lope while we can."</p>
<p>They went on, galloping across the little valleys
and going slowly up the hills. Before very long
Jack again saw Hugh bend his head and back away
from the ridge, and then turn and ride a few yards
down the hill and dismount. Jack did the same,
and as he drew his rifle from its scabbard, Hugh
said to him, "There's a big buck just over the hill,
and I think we can get him. Is your gun loaded?"</p>
<p>"No," replied Jack.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span>
"That's right, but you'd better load it now and
keep it at half-cock, and then follow me and do just
what you see me do."</p>
<p>Hugh walked quietly up the hill and Jack followed
him. Again he was excited, but this time he was
not breathing fast, and now he felt sure that he
would get a shot. When Hugh had nearly reached
the top of the hill, he stopped, took off his hat and
dropped it on the ground, and putting his hand behind
him motioned Jack to stop. After a long look
he took two or three steps forward and then stopped
again; then two or three more, and then he slowly
lowered his head and walked forward in a stooping
position. Then he dropped to his knees, and turning,
beckoned Jack, who had imitated all his motions,
to his side. "The buck is just over there,"
he whispered, pointing to the crest before him.
"Creep up beside me, and look through the grass
and try to see him. Don't raise your head and
don't hurry. There's plenty of time."</p>
<p>On hands and knees they crept forward a few feet,
and then Hugh stretched out his hand and touched
Jack, and motioned with his head. The boy stared
at the grass before them which was shivering in the
wind, but he could see nothing beyond it but the
blue sky. At length Hugh bent toward him and
whispered, "Don't you see his horns?" Instantly
Jack saw that what he had seen several times and
had supposed were two black looking weed stalks
were the slender horns of an antelope. Hugh saw
the change in his companion's face, and whispered
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span>
again, "Crawl up a few feet more and then get up
slowly, rest your left elbow on your knee, and aim
just behind the shoulder and low down." Jack crept
up past Hugh, and, rising very slowly on one knee,
took a careful aim. The buck was lying on a point
of the hill, with his face toward the valley and his
back toward Jack, who aimed at the side just behind
the shoulder and low down, and fired. The buck
sprang to his feet, and in half a dozen low, rabbitlike
jumps, disappeared over the hill.</p>
<p>Jack had not had time to wonder whether he had
missed or not, when he heard Hugh's voice at his
ear saying, "Son, you done that well; no one could
have done it better. Now, let's go and get the
horses."</p>
<p>"Well, but Hugh, where is the antelope? Did I
hit him or did I miss?" asked Jack.</p>
<p>"Why, you hit him, of course. Look where he
ran. Don't you see that if you'd missed him he
would have been in sight before now, either crossing
that flat or running up on one of the hills. He
ain't gone far. He's our meat."</p>
<p>"Oh, I hope so," gasped Jack, who suddenly began
to tremble as if he were cold.</p>
<div><a name="jack_crept_up_past_hugh_and_took_a_careful_aim" id="jack_crept_up_past_hugh_and_took_a_careful_aim"></a></div>
<div class="figcenter">
<img class="mw" src="images/i001.jpg" alt="" />
<div class="caption">
<p>"JACK CREPT UP PAST HUGH ... AND TOOK A CAREFUL AIM."—<i>Page <a href="#Page_84">84</a></i>.</p>
</div></div>
<p>When they had mounted, Hugh led the way to
the place where the antelope had been lying. Here
he pointed out the hoof tracks and followed them
down the hill. Before long he stopped, and pointing
at the ground, said, "See there." Jack looked,
and saw a dark splash on the ground, and clinging
to a tuft of the brown prairie grass, several bright
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span>
red drops. After a moment's hesitation, he exclaimed,
"Oh, that's blood, isn't it? Then I must
have hit him."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, he is hit. Now, you see if you can
follow that blood trail. Don't keep looking at the
ground just in front of you, look ahead of you and
don't try to go too fast." Jack looked on the
ground ahead of him, and saw other splashes, and
starting on, soon saw that he could follow the marks
much more easily and quickly in that way than he
could by watching those which were close under his
horse's head. They went on for a hundred yards
further, and then, as they rounded the point of a
little knoll, Hugh said, "There's your meat," and
looking, Jack saw something white showing above
the grass, and a moment later he was looking down
on his first antelope.</p>
<p>It was a splendid big buck, and Jack, jumping off
his horse, ran to it and for a moment could hardly
believe his eyes. Then he tore off his hat and
threw it up in the air and just yelled and hurrahed
as loud as he could. Hugh meantime, smiling as if
greatly pleased, had thrown down the ropes of both
horses and twisted them around a sage-bush, and
when he came up to the antelope, Jack was looking
it all over, opening its mouth, stretching out its
slender legs, and smoothing down its coarse rough
hair.</p>
<p>"Isn't he pretty, though? And how slim his legs
are! No wonder he can run. And he's got a black
tongue, just like a pure breed Alderney cow. But he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span>
must be pretty old, for he hasn't got any front
teeth in his upper jaw. Do you think he'll be very
tough? And see, he only has two hoofs on each
foot. Are all antelopes that way? Some caribou
that Uncle Will killed once in Canada had four
hoofs on each foot, two little ones and two big ones.
Oh, ain't I glad I didn't miss. But I never thought
about missing. I just aimed as near as I could
where you told me to. I'm so glad I didn't just
wound him. Oh, this is the best day of my life."
So Jack chattered on, until Hugh interrupted him
by taking hold of the animal and turning it over,
saying as he did so, "You done well, my son, mighty
well. I watched you shoot and you couldn't have
done better if you'd been killing antelope as long
as I have. You were steady as a rock. Now, look
a'here. You see this little hole? That's where the
ball went in; and this big one is where it came out.
You want to remember that; going in, the ball
makes a small hole, coming out, a big one. You
ask a heap of questions, but I'll try and answer some
of 'em. You'll have to stop on the prairie longer
than I have to find an antelope with front teeth
in his upper jaw. They don't have 'em. No more
does any other animal that I ever saw that chews
the cud. First chance you get, look at a cow's
mouth, or a deer's, or an elk's, or a sheep's. You'll
see they're all alike in that. A horse has upper front
teeth, and so does a hog, but those are about the
only animals that eat grass that has 'em, in this
country. Now, we've got to butcher. I'll do that,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span>
because I know how, and after a while you can learn
to. I guess we'll take this fellow in whole. You'd
like to have 'em see him that way, I reckon."</p>
<p>Hugh rapidly prepared the animal for transportation
to camp, and then, bringing up the horses and
tightening the saddles on both, he lifted the antelope
on Old Grey, and tied it on behind the saddle
with the leather strings, tied its head up, so that the
horns should not strike the horse, and the legs to each
of the cinch rings of the saddle. Thus it was firm.</p>
<p>He looked at the sky for a moment, and then
said, "Let's fill the pipe." Sitting down, he lit his
pipe, and while he smoked said: "Antelope don't
have no front teeth in the upper jaw, as I told you,
and they don't have no dew-claws like a deer or a
steer. I can't tell why they don't, but I can tell you
what the Indians say about the dew-claws. Now a
deer ain't got no gall, and this is the way the deer
lost his gall and the antelope his dew-claws.</p>
<p>"A long time ago, they say, deer had galls and
antelope had dew-claws. According to the Pawnees
tell, in those days all the animals could talk to each
other, and one day the antelope and the deer met
out on the prairie. They had quite a talk, giving
each other the news, and at last the deer got to
bragging about himself, telling how smart he was
and how he could beat all the other animals running.
'Why,' says the antelope, 'you may be a pretty
considerable fast runner, but you couldn't beat me.'
'Bet you I can,' says the deer. 'Bet you ye can't,'
says the antelope.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span>
"Well, they bantered each other for quite a spell,
and at last they made it up that they'd run a race
on the prairie, and they bet their galls on the race.
Whoever won was to take both. Well, at last the
day came for the race, and they ran, and the antelope
beat the deer all hollow. So the deer handed
over his gall to the antelope. He felt terrible bad,
about it though, and seemed so broke up that the
antelope felt sorry for him and made him a present
of his dew-claws, to make his heart good."</p>
<p>As he finished the story, Hugh knocked the fire
out of his pipe and said, "Well, let's be going."
They mounted and rode back toward the ranch.
Jack's heart was full of gladness, and he felt proud
of what he had done, and proud that Hugh praised
him. As they rode by the stables and up to the
house, one of the cowboys called out to Hugh,
"Why don't you carry your meat instead of making
the kid pack it?" To which Hugh replied, winking
at Jack, "The kid killed it, and the kid's got to pack
it." Jack thought this a very good joke.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER IX<br />
<span class="medium">JOHN MONROE, HALF-BREED</span></h2>
</div>
<p>When he looked out of the window next morning,
Jack could see only a little way, for it was snowing
and blowing very hard, and the fine snow-flakes filled
the air and were whirled about in dense clouds.
The brush and the mountain behind the house
could not be seen, and even the stables and corrals
were hidden.</p>
<p>After breakfast he sat for a little while by the
window, looking out and watching the snow-flakes,
but he soon got tired of that. His uncle was
writing near the stove. There was no one to talk
to, and he did not feel like reading. At length he
thought that he would go down to the bunk-house
where the men slept, and see what Hugh was doing.
He could see the outline of the house amid the
whirling snow, and supposed Hugh was there. He
told his uncle what he was going to do, and Mr.
Sturgis looked up and said, "All right, go down to
the bunk-house, but go straight there, don't try to
go anywhere else. It is easy to get lost in this
snow."</p>
<p>When Jack entered the bunk-house, a great cloud
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span>
of snow blew in the open door after him, and as he
banged it to behind him, he saw Hugh standing up
plaiting a raw-hide rope, Reuben mending his saddle
with strings of wet raw-hide, which he took
from a bucket of water beside him, while Joe had
his feet cocked up on the stove and was smoking
and talking to the others. Jack went up to the
stove and sat down on a box near Reuben, and
watched him, and after a moment Joe went on
speaking.</p>
<p>"I seen Red Cahill yesterday when I was riding.
He was going down from Washakie to the Fort, and
calculated he'd stop all night to Powell's. He told
me that there's five head of our horses ranging up
on Grey Bull. There's the old gotch-eared black
mare, and her three-year old, two-year old, and
yearling, and that yellow gelding that the boss
traded for with them emigrants when they came
through here two years ago. You mind we ain't
seen that gelding since his feet got well, and I
always thought he'd took the trail back the way
he come. But it seems not. I don't expect the
roundup will fetch them horses in, but it may.
Anyhow we can go and get 'em 'most any time,
only it's a long way to ride for five head of horses.</p>
<p>"Did Red say anything about the Indians at
Washakie?" asked Hugh.</p>
<p>"That's what he did," said Joe.</p>
<p>"He said we won't see no Indians down here this
summer. You know them Arapahoes that's up
there to Washakie is kinder friends to them Cheyennes
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span>
that broke out last fall down in Kansas, and got
took in to Roberson, and then broke jail there, and
most all got killed. He says there's some Cheyennes
staying up there with the Arapahoes and
they're all stirred up and uneasy over that killing
down to Roberson."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "and I don't wonder at it. It
was a doggoned shame the way they treated them
Indians. It was all right to capture them and bring
'em in and shut 'em up. That's war all right enough.
But after they'd got 'em locked up, to shut down
on their grub and their water was about the worst
thing that I ever heard of this Government doing,
and it sure done some pretty bad things. I don't
care so much for the men. It's men's business to
get into trouble and to fight and get killed or to
starve, but when I think of them women and young
girls and little children not having anything to eat
or drink for seven days I tell you it makes me mad.
I expect if them folks back east who pretends to
think so much about Indians could know about that,
they'd raise quite a fuss. But they ain't never likely
to hear of it.</p>
<p>"What was it, Hugh?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Oh," said Hugh, "it was just a killing of Indians,
like plenty of others that's happened out in
this western country, only this time the soldiers
took away all the guns the Indians had and didn't
give them no food nor water for seven days and then
they let 'em get out, and killed 'em as they run. I
believe they killed sixty or seventy of them and all
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span>
but about twenty was women and little children, but I
don't feel much like talking about it any more, so
let's quit it."</p>
<p>Jack had never before heard Hugh speak as he
spoke now; so sternly and sharply that Jack had
nothing to say and sat silent on his box, watching
the others work. At length Reuben ventured a remark
and said:</p>
<p>"This here snow-storm'll do a heap of good to
the meadows, and the way it's blowing now it orter
pile some of these ravines full of snow, and make
the water last a heap longer than it commonly does."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh. "This is going to be a right
good year, for feed, and this here storm won't do no
harm. It ain't cold enough to hurt young calves
and colts. It may make the coyotes a little hungry
though, and if any one of you boys rides to-morrow,
he'd better take some baits with him—I mean to put
out some poison along the mountains myself."</p>
<p>"That's a good idee," said Joe; "I believe I'll go
out and mix up some tallow now."</p>
<p>Joe took his feet down from the stove, yawned,
stood up, and walked to the window and looked
out. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Gosh!" and stepping
out the door uttered a loud "Hallo-o-a."
Jack ran to the window and looked out. For a
moment the storm had lulled; the wind had stopped
blowing, and the snow falling, and the boy saw, a
few hundred yards away, on the crest of a hill, a
snow-covered horseman, followed by two pack
animals. Joe's shout had reached the rider, who
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span>
had stopped and was now looking toward the house.
Then the wind again began to howl and the snow to
fly, and in an instant the whole scene was blotted
out.</p>
<p>Jack went outside and stood by Joe, who seemed
to be listening. "What is it, Joe?" he said.</p>
<p>"Didn't you see the way that fellow was going?
He was plum lost, heading straight for the mountains.
If he's a pilgrim he'd a got tangled up in
the ravines and likely froze to death. Don't talk
now; listen." In a moment, the two were joined
by Hugh and Rube, and all stood listening.
Presently someone said, "There he comes," and a
moment later, the little group of animals stopped
in front of the bunk-house. The rider stiffly dismounted,
and began to take off the packs from his
horses." Well, seh," he said, "my glad my get
here."</p>
<p>Hugh stepped out into the snow to help unpack
the stranger's horses, and when the snow-covered
man saw him, he exclaimed in surprise, "Why, hallo,
Hugh, h'ole man, my think you was dead long time."</p>
<p>"Why, I'm durned if it ain't old John Monroe,"
said Hugh. "Come in, come in and get dry; the
boys'll tend to your horses. Well, well; how are
you? Living up north, yet? How's the old man?
Tell me all the news."</p>
<p>"Well, seh," said old John, "this very curieuse.
My comin' down here pour veeseet my girl. She
married one man, live on Bear River. Now my
goin' down there, meet h'ole Hugh. Bien curieuse,"
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span>
and he stared at Hugh as if he could hardly believe
his eyes.</p>
<p>Hugh laughed. "Why, son," he said, speaking
to Jack, this old man and me has travelled together
a good many years when I stopped up north with
his people. You see, he's a Piegan half-breed, raised
in Canada among the Crees and Frenchmen. His
father came out into this country long before I was
born, must have been more'n sixty-five years ago.
The old man worked for the Hudson Bay Company
in early days, and John here has been working for
fur companies all his life. He's one of the best
timber-hunters that ever was. I'm right glad to see
him. We'll have to get him to stop with us here
for a while, I expect."</p>
<p>A moment later Hugh turned to John and spoke
to him in some strange language, and for a little
while Jack sat there and watched the two talking
and making signs to each other. He had heard his
uncle tell of the sign language that the Indians used,
and he felt sure that this must be it. When he left
them to go up to the house the two men were still
talking busily.</p>
<p>After dinner Jack again went down to the bunk-house.
Hugh and John were still giving the news
to each other, but now they spoke a language that
Jack could understand—that is, Hugh did, but
John's English made up only a small part of his
speech, which was partly French and partly Indian,
with a good many signs. Some parts of what he
said Jack could not understand at all.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span>
"Well, son," said Hugh after awhile, "I have got
a whole bag full of news from up north, and I'm
mighty glad to have it. I've got a whole lot of
friends in the Blackfoot camp, and I've got plenty
of questions yet to ask the old man.</p>
<p>"Tell me, John, are the young men going to
war much these days? In my time with the tribe
the horse-stealing parties were out about all the
time, except in the worst winter weather," said
Hugh.</p>
<p>"Yas," answered John, "plenty war-parties he
goin' h'out h'all time, take plenty horses. Goin' to
Crow, h'Assinaboine, Gros Ventres, Pend d'Oreilles,
h'all peoples. Sometime goin' 'gainst white mans."</p>
<p>"And I suppose plenty of people come to war
against them, too," said Hugh. "If they take lots
of horses, they lose lots too, I expect."</p>
<p>"Hoh' yas," said John, "plenty horses stolen.
Last summer Crows he take 'im 'bout two hundred,
one night. Lone Person he loss 'bout hundred.
You know it Heavy Runner—white mans call 'im
Brocky. Well, seh, last summer, Crees he comin'
down pour steal 'im horses. Somebody see it,
h'every body h'running try pour keel 'im Crees.
Young man, Wolf Eagle, Cree shoot it 'im in h'arm.
Heavy Runner he chase 'im one Cree; Cree jump
in washout pour fight; shoot it 'im Heavy Runner
in forehead; Heavy Runner shoot it, keel 'im Cree.
Heavy Runner get well, may be bullet follow bone
of his haid round, no go through. Plenty dances
over Cree his scalp. War now, not so good lak' in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span>
h'ole days. Too much soldier now; chase it war-party,
take away horses."</p>
<p>"Yes, I expect it's a heap different up there now
from what it used to be; like it is everywhere in
the country since the railroads come and turned
things upside down. There's too many people in
the country now, and they ain't the right sort of
people either."</p>
<p>"Yas, Hugh, h'ole man, peoples lak' you an' me
we can' change, we too h'ole. We been loky we
was borned in good times, mais we had bad lok we
lived too long."</p>
<p>"Well, anyhow, John, I'd like mighty well to go
up north again, and maybe I will some day. When
you goin' back there?"</p>
<p>"My not know yet. Maybe one, two mont'.
Suppose maybe you goin' back sem time my go?"</p>
<p>John stopped talking, and taking his pipe from
his fire bag, began to clean and fill it. This was
rather a long slow process, during which nothing
was said. After the pipe was going well, John sat
back, and casting his eyes about the bunk-house
noticed the bear-skin hanging against the wall.
Pointing to it, he said, "You kill it' 'im bear,
Hugh?"</p>
<p>"No, the boss killed that fellow. It must have
just come out, for it was right fat. There is lots of
bears here, John, but no buffalo. We've got to go
more'n two hundred miles to kill buffalo. Last
year I seen one dead one out on the prairie about
twenty-five miles from here, but that's the only one
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span>
I've seen about here in a long time. Plenty buffalo
up north, I expect."</p>
<p>"Plenty," was the answer. "He trade it two
store, Carroll. H'all H'ingin' comin' trade; Cree,
h'Assinaboine, Gros Ventres, Sircee, Blackfeet,
Blood, Piegan; got plenty whisky, trade plenty
h'robe. Sometime he faightin', <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les chauvages</i>, when
he bin dronk. Sometimes he keel it two tree
H'ingin' faightin: sometime in winter, cole he keel
it, froze 'im so he was die. You know it Calf Shirt,
Blood Chief; well, seh, he keel it 'im white mans.
Calf Shirt he dronk, want keel it white mans, one
h'woman run quick tole um. When Calf Shirt
cornin' pour faight, white mans shoot it 'im, maybe
six, seven, ten time. Soon he daid."</p>
<p>"Well, well!" exclaimed Hugh, "It's like old
times yet up north after all."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER X<br />
<span class="medium">COWS IN A SNOW-DRIFT</span></h2>
</div>
<p>The next morning the snow had ceased falling
and the sun shone bright and clear. Hugh declared
that it was just the day for putting out his coyote
baits, which he intended to string along the mountains
north of the house, to try to poison some of
the coyotes that were watching the calves. These
baits were blocks of wood in which one and a half
inch augur holes had been bored to a depth of three
inches. Into these holes melted tallow had been
poured until the holes were full. The coyotes were
expected to eat little balls of tallow containing
strychnine scattered on the ground, and to remain
near the blocks, licking at the tallow in the augur
holes, until the poison which they had taken should
act, so that they would die near the blocks. Thus
the wolfer would get the skins of the animals that
he killed.</p>
<p>Hugh put the blocks containing the baits in two
sacks and lashed them on a pack horse, and soon
with Jack and John he was riding through the snow
north along the mountain-side. Soon after starting,
Hugh tied a piece of elk-hide to one end of his rope,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span>
and taking a turn of the other around the horn of
his saddle, dragged it behind him over the snow.
This, he told Jack, was to lead the wolves to follow
the trail, so that they might come to the baits.
"Of course," he said, "they'd follow it up anyhow,
but the smell of this hide'll keep 'em thinking about
eating." After they had gone a few hundred yards,
Hugh dismounted on top of a little ridge, and here
threw down one of his pieces of wood, and about it
scattered several balls of poisoned tallow and a
handful of chips of dried meat, which he took from
a sack. This he repeated at intervals of half a mile
as they went along. When they reached the spot
where the cows were, they found most of them
feeding on a warm, sheltered hillside, which was
almost free from snow. There were now many
more calves than when they had seen them last.
Hugh sat for a long time looking at the animals,
while John Monroe rode to the top of a near-by hill,
from which after a moment he called aloud, made
some motions with his hands and pointed.</p>
<p>"That's good," said Hugh to Jack. "He sees
them cows." They galloped up to John who motioned
toward the mountains where a number of
dark animals were seen standing in the snow.</p>
<p>"Well, John," said Hugh, "we've got to get them
out. It's a bad place, too. There's a big drift
there. I'll bet the snow's four feet deep."</p>
<p>Riding toward the cows, they saw that there were
seven of them standing in the deep snow, which
reached half way up to their backs. Two or three
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span>
of them had moved a little, treading down the snow
about them so that they had room to turn around;
beside these, calves were standing. All the cows
looked cold and hungry and fierce-eyed, and two
or three shook their heads angrily as the horsemen
pushed their way toward them through the ever-deepening
snow.</p>
<p>"Well, now, boys," said Hugh, "we've got to
break a road as near the critters as we can, and then
rope 'em and snake 'em out. Son, you'll have to
look out. Every one of them cows is fighting mad,
and likely every one of 'em's got a calf, which will
make her fight harder. John, you and me'd better
take this nearest one first. Son, when we get the
ropes on her, maybe you can get around and hurry
the calf along close to her."</p>
<p>For a few moments Hugh, John and Jack rode
back and forth through the deep snow, until they
had broken a trail from a point where the snow was
only knee-deep nearly to where the nearest cow
stood. Each time when they got near her, she
shook her head at them and looked as if she were
going to charge. When the road through the
snow was pretty well broken, John and Hugh rode
up near to the cow, and then separating, each of
them threw his rope. Hugh's settled fairly over
both horns, but John's caught only one of them,
slipped off and had to be gathered and thrown
again. Then both men turned their horses toward
the path and slowly dragged the cow over and
through the snow. As the cow, bellowing and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span>
struggling furiously, passed along, a pitiful feeble
cry came from the hole where she had stood, and
Jack, spurring his horse up to the place, saw standing
there a little weak staggering calf. The snow
was deep, even where the cow had been dragged,
and the calf could not get out of the hole. As Jack
sat there gazing at it, suddenly a rope flew over the
calf's neck, and looking, Jack saw John whirling his
horse, and then saw the calf fly out of the hole and
over the snow at the end of the rope. He followed
to where Hugh sat on his horse by the cow, which
lay on its side, all tangled up in the rope. There
John loosed the calf, which, after a moment, staggered
to its feet; and then Hugh, by a few jerks
on his rope, freed the cow, which got up and began
to lick the calf. Then, the two old men rode back
to where the other cows stood in the snow. Jack
could not understand why the calf had not been
choked to death, nor how the cow had been tied,
and then so suddenly untied. He determined that
he would watch. He hurried back to where the
men were breaking another path, but before he
reached them they had roped the cow and were
dragging it over and through the snow. The cow
bellowed piteously, but moved along so steadily and
fast that she could not struggle. Jack drew out of
the way to let them pass, and then rode up to the
hole, where he saw the little calf. This time he
thought he would try his hand; he threw his rope
twice and at last it went over the calf's head; then
he very gently pulled it tight, and taking a turn of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span>
the rope over the saddle-horn, turned and rode
slowly toward the others. He did not want to go
fast, for he did not want to hurt the calf. Before
he had gone far he met John riding back. He
called to him: "Hurry! hurry! Ride more fast,
else you're goin' kill 'im de calf. You choke it 'im."
Jack hurried on then, and stopped when he was
near Hugh, who, as before, was holding the tied cow.
"Loose the calf as quick as you can, son, and let
it get up." Jack dismounted and took the rope
from the calf's neck, but it lay there perfectly still.</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh, I'm afraid I've killed it," said Jack.</p>
<p>Hugh dismounted quickly, leaving the horse
standing with the rope stretched tightly between
the horn of the saddle and the cow, and walked to
the calf.</p>
<p>"You choked it too long," he said. "But I guess
we can fix it." He worked over the calf for a little
while, and soon it began to breathe again without
any help.</p>
<p>"There! He's all right now; but the next time
you snake a calf by the neck, hurry him along. If
you cut off his wind too long, he'll die on you."</p>
<p>"Why, the reason I went slowly was that I didn't
want to hurt it. If Mr. Monroe hadn't told me to
come faster, it would have been dead before I got
here."</p>
<p>"It sure would," said Hugh. "If you're handling
cattle you have to be quick about it often. It's
easier on the critters, even if it does look rough.
There, that calf can stand now, I guess. Let's drag
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span>
it over to its mother and turn her loose. Now we've
got to get the others out. I expect old John'll
wonder what's keeping us."</p>
<p>He took the calf by the fore legs and dragged it
over the snow to where its mother lay, then mounted
his horse, and seeing that Jack also had mounted,
quickly freed the cow from the rope. When she
sprung to her feet, she ran to the calf and began to
lick it, and in a few moments it stood up. Meantime
Jack and Hugh had gone back and met John,
who was slowly dragging a large cow over the snow.
She struggled and fought, and the little pony that
John was riding had his hands full to keep her
moving in the right direction. As soon as Hugh's
rope fell over her horns, and the two horses began
to pull together, she moved swiftly and steadily
along. Jack rode on to get the calf. At first he
thought there was none there, but looking carefully
he saw a foot and part of a leg sticking out from the
snow where the cow had been standing. He dismounted,
and digging away the snow, by pulling
and pushing he brought to light a big strong calf,
which at once stood up. This time, Jack did not try
to be tender with the calf. He threw his rope over
its head, took the turn of his rope over the saddle-horn,
pulled the calf up out of the snow pit and then
galloped back to where the cow lay. As soon as he
cast the rope off the calf, which this time he did
without dismounting, the animal stood up and
bawled for its mother. Hugh turned her loose, and
they all went back for another cow. In this way they
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span>
pulled out all the cows and their calves, and before
the middle of the day had started back to the
ranch.</p>
<p>The weather had become milder, and now the snow
was melting a little. "Might be such a thing, my
son, as we'd find a coyote at some of these baits.
'Tain't likely though. Still we'll go back the same
way we came."</p>
<p>"Snow on ground, maybe coyotes pretty hungry.
Why you no make 'em trap like H'ingin?" said
John.</p>
<p>"Ain't wolves enough for it, and besides that, I
don't believe I ever thought of it before. Might be
a good idea, though. Maybe I'll try it next winter,
if coyotes is anyways like as plenty as they are now.
Poison's no good any more."</p>
<p>"What kind of trap is that, Hugh?" asked Jack.</p>
<p>"Why, it's sorter like a pitfall trap that I've heard
tell of. You kill a bull, and all around him build up
a kind of a fence of poles close together, and all
leaning toward each other at the top, where you
leave quite a hole. Then you pile up rocks and
dirt around your poles, so's to make a little mound
for the wolves to walk on up to the hole. If they're
hungry enough they'll jump down into the hole to
get at the meat, but they can't jump out again because
the hole is too high up. They can't climb up
the poles and they can't dig through 'em. So there
you've got 'em."</p>
<p>"Long time ago," said John, "he catch 'im
plenty big wolves, plenty coyote that way, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les</i>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span>
<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">shauvages</i>. My grand'mère, when she was little
girl, 'bout as h'ole as Jacques, H'ingins not make it
beaver, not make it h'robes pour trade. H'only
trade 'im wolf skin. Ver' curieuse."</p>
<p>"Oh, Mr. Monroe," said Jack, "is that a coyote
off there?"</p>
<p>"No, that sinopah—what you say it, Hugh?" was
the reply.</p>
<p>"Kit fox is what I call him, some calls 'em swift.
I've heard folks say that they were the fastest thing
that runs on the prairie, but it ain't so, by a long
shot. There's just plenty of swifter animals. Still
you can see easy enough where people get the idea
that they run so fast. They're mighty level-gaited
and seem to sort o' glide along instead of running.
Just watch that fellow now and see how smooth he
runs.</p>
<p>"Hallo, Hugh," interrupted John, "you get it
one coyote?"</p>
<p>"Well, looks like it, don't it?" said Hugh. The
little wolf lay near the block of wood, from the holes
in which much of the tallow had been licked. It
was a pretty creature, about as large as a small
setter dog, yellowish grey in colour, and with thick
heavy fur and a bushy tail. Its sharp nose gave it
a wise, cunning look.</p>
<p>"He been two of it here, Hugh," said John,
whose eyes was constantly wandering about over the
snow. "Two coyote and sinopah."</p>
<p>"Yes; the other one's gone back along the trail
to the ranch. They've eat up all the scraps I scattered
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span>
here. Well, I'll put this one on the horse, and
skin it at the house." Hugh thrust the coyote into
one of the sacks on the pack horse, and they went
on.</p>
<p>A mile or two further along on the trail they
found where the second coyote had turned off toward
the mountain, and both men said that this one
had probably not eaten any of the poisoned tallow.
That afternoon Hugh showed Jack how to skin a
coyote.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XI<br />
<span class="medium">JACK'S FIRST ELK</span></h2>
</div>
<p>The next two or three weeks were warm and
bright and the snow melted fast. The little brooks
that ran down from the mountains were full of
water. Out on the edge of the hay meadows the
men were working with ploughs, spades and hoes,
mending the irrigation ditches, which would be used
to turn the water on the hay land after all the snow
water had run off and the dry season had come.
There was much of this work to be done, and all
were busy at it, except John Monroe and Jack, who
rode together each day.</p>
<p>One morning they went out to look at the cows,
and then on past them, and out to the end of the
mountain. Here turning west, they followed a narrow
winding trail up the hill, until they had reached
the crest of the ridge and could look over much of
the prairie below. Here they dismounted, and
leaving the horses in a little hollow where they could
feed, they clambered upon a high rock-crowned
knoll and sat there looking over the prairie. It was
a wide and beautiful prospect that they saw; fifteen
or twenty miles of prairie, which from this height
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span>
looked as if it were level, marked here and there with
lakes that shone like silver in the sun, or with white
patches of snow in the sheltered ravines. Beyond
were mountains; those in front of them dotted with
black pines and with white patches of rock; those
to the right rising in brown foothills to peaks which
were almost as red as blood. Suddenly, John, who
had been smoking in silence, said: "My see 'im two
h'elk."</p>
<p>"Two elk, Mr. Monroe; oh, where?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"You look on prairie, that a-way," said John,
pointing, "just crossin' from Chalk Bluff there,
two small little spots movin'. That h'elk."</p>
<p>Jack strained his eyes to find them, but he could
see nothing. He had not yet learned how to look
for objects on the prairie. Presently, just as he was
going to tell John that he could not see them, he
dropped his eyes to the prairie nearer the point of
the mountain and saw two dark spots, which seemed
to be moving.</p>
<p>"I see them now, Mr. Monroe," he exclaimed
eagerly. "Are those elk? I don't see how you
know. I can see that they move, and so they must
be animals, but I should never know what they
were."</p>
<p>"Yes, that's h'elks," repeated John. "Suppose
you want it kill 'im one h'elk? Get it some meat?"</p>
<p>"Oh, wouldn't I like to? Could we get a shot,
do you think? They're awful far off," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Maybe he comin' right up here. Suppose he
comin' up one trail, he come to us. Suppose he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span>
take trail we come by, smell 'im horses, then goin'
run off quick. Suppose we go to point of mountain,
see 'im bote trails. Maybe we get it shot. Come."</p>
<p>They clambered down from the rocks and soon
caught their horses. Jack mounted first, and sat
there impatient to start. But John checked him,
saying:</p>
<p>"Suppose no hurry. Good you fix it saddle."
So Jack controlled himself, and remembering what
Hugh had told him about taking care of his horse's
back, he dismounted and tightened his saddle.
John had done the same, and they mounted and
rode off together, keeping on the crest of a ridge, on
one side of which ran the trail they had followed up
the hill. On the other side was a little valley overgrown
with aspens, among which ran a brook.</p>
<p>If he had been alone, Jack would have galloped
as hard as he could to the end of this ridge, so as to
see the elk soon and to find out what they were
doing, but he remembered again what Hugh had
told him, and he remembered too, how he had lost
the first antelope he had tried to hunt. So he asked
no questions and rode quietly along, feeling pretty
sure that John must know what he was doing. At
length, when they had nearly reached what seemed
the end of the ridge, John pointed to the valley
where the brook ran, and said:</p>
<p>"Suppose he comin' h'up there, we get 'im suer."
A little while afterward, he said, "Leave 'em horses
here," and dismounted, and taking his gun from its
scabbard, he walked forward toward the end of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span>
ridge, where great rocks lay scattered over the
ground. Jack, as he followed, noticed that John, as
he walked, made no sound. The gravel did not
crunch under his moccasins, his trousers did not rub
against the weeds and bushes. As he made each
step, his toe touched the ground first, then the ball
of his foot, and then his heel. If he had been a cat
walking over a carpet, he could not have made less
noise. It seemed to Jack that every time he himself
put down his foot, it made a loud rattling on the
ground, the sides of his feet scraped against the
bushes, and he made a great noise. Before they had
gone very far, John turned and made a sign for Jack
to stop. Then he cautiously went forward and
peered over some rocks, and then slowly lowering
his head, he beckoned Jack to come to him. When
he had reached John, the old man pointed and
said: "Suppose you look. See 'im h'elk comin'
h'up this side?"</p>
<p>Jack raised his head very cautiously and looked
over the rock, and there, only a few hundred yards
away, coming up the side of the ridge he saw two
animals nearly as big as horses. Their bodies and
legs were graceful and deer like, but they carried
their heads and necks very awkwardly. Their noses
pointed straight out in front, and they moved their
heads slowly from side to side. They had no horns,
but where the horns should have been were odd
thick bunches, only a little longer than their ears.
Their bodies were brownish yellow. He had hardly
had time to see these things, when John touched
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span>
him on the shoulder, and motioned him to come
with him. They went back a little distance from
the rocks, and entering a ravine that ran down to the
valley, crept part of the way toward the timber, and
then up the side of the ravine toward the elk.
From the top of the ridge they could see the game
coming directly toward them. The animals did not
stop to feed, but walked straight on, as if they were
going somewhere.</p>
<p>"Soon he comin' close. Suppose you shoot, try
kill 'im daid. Suppose he wounded, maybe run far.
Hard time catch 'im. That bad. Now wait."</p>
<p>For some minutes they sat there, John saying
nothing and doing nothing, but Jack feeling very
anxious. He remembered the great pair of elk antlers
that his uncle had at home, and though these
elk here had no horns, still they were the same kind
of animals. He wanted very much to kill one, and
his heart had been beating fast ever since he had
started. While they sat there though, he seemed to
quiet down a little; he still wanted just as much to
kill the elk, but when he saw how calm John was, he
felt a little bit ashamed that he should be so excited,
and this made him cool down still more. At length
John said: "Suppose h'elk pretty close. My goin'
look now." He crept up and peeped over the ridge
and then drawing back, motioned Jack to come
to his side, which he did, creeping as close to
the ground as possible. John signed to him to
shoot. He crept up very carefully, raised his head
slowly, and there he saw these two great animals
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span>
about to cross the ravine, hardly forty yards below
him. They were walking, but, before he raised his
rifle to shoot, both elk stopped, and seemed to be
looking over the country beyond the ravine. Jack
aimed carefully behind the elk's shoulder and low
down, and fired. Both elks slowly turned their heads
and looked toward the hunters, but neither moved.
"Shoot," whispered John, and Jack threw out his
shell, loaded and shot again, aiming at the same
place, and, as the second shot rang out, the elk fell
on its side, and its companion turned and trotted
swiftly away.</p>
<p>"Ha! You shoot good," said John, as he rose to
his feet and walked toward where the elk lay. Jack
wanted to shout out hurrahs, he was so glad, but he
said nothing and walked along by John's side, trying
to seem unconcerned, but with a broad smile of
happiness upon his face. In a moment they had
reached the great animal, which lay there with its
slender brown legs outstretched, and its smooth yellow
body glistening in the sun.</p>
<p>"Ha!" said John, "You make it good shoot.
Good shoot," and he pointed to the elk's body,
where, close behind the fore leg, were two tiny holes,
not two inches apart, where both the boy's bullets
had entered. Either shot would have killed him.</p>
<p>While Jack was looking at the elk, admiring his
graceful, strong body, and wondering at the queer,
soft warm bunches that grew out of his head, and
which he knew must be the young growing horns,
John sharpened his knife and prepared to cut up the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span>
bull. Bending its head back close to one of its shoulders,
he turned the animal on its back, and propped
it in position by placing a large stone under its hip.
Before using his knife, however, he said to Jack,
"Suppose you no want it skin, take it meat to house.
Now, skin no good for moccasins. Biemby, be
good."</p>
<p>Jack would have liked to carry in the whole elk,
so that all might see what a splendid animal he had
killed, but he was ashamed to say so to John, and
returned a cheerful "All right," to his suggestion.</p>
<p>John's sharp knife quickly cut off the elk's hams
and shoulders and then, turning the animal on its
side, the long strips of meat lying on either side of
the backbone—the sirloins—were torn out. Then
very deftly John tied the hams together and threw
them across Jack's saddle, fastening them to the
cinch rings, put the shoulders and sirloins on his own
horse, and they mounted and rode off down the
mountain.</p>
<p>The ride toward the ranch was a happy one for
Jack. He was glad that he had killed the elk, glad
that he had made two such good shots, and he
hummed a little song to himself as he rode along and
every now and then reached down and smoothed
the skin of the elk hams. He could not help thinking
how badly he would have felt if he had missed
the shot, and the elk had run away, or even if he
had missed and John had killed it. This was
much better.</p>
<p>Although this was only the second animal that he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span>
had killed, Jack was beginning to feel some confidence
in his shooting, and was beginning too to understand
that he knew nothing about hunting. He
could not understand how it was that Hugh and
John seemed to know exactly what to do. He
could see though that they were never in a hurry,
that they were not uneasy about whether the game
was going to run away or not, that they were patient
and took plenty of time. All this was just
what Hugh had told him about hunting, and Jack determined
that he would try hard to remember and
always to act on it.</p>
<p>The sun was just setting as they rode up to the
house. Two of the men could be seen coming
across the prairie, driving a bunch of horses before
them, and Hugh was just coming down to the corral
to let out the milk cows.</p>
<p>He smiled as he saw the meat on the horses, and
called out, "Well, son, you've got some meat, I
see."</p>
<p>"Yes, seh," said John, "Jack make it good shoot.
Good shoot, my tellin' you."</p>
<p>"You killed it, did you, son? Why, that's good.
Where'd ye hit it?"</p>
<p>"Good shoot my tellin' you," repeated John.
"Plum centre. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Il l'a brisé le cœur deux fois.</i> Two
time."</p>
<p>"You don't say! Why, son, you're goin' to make
a sure enough hunter all right. Now, let's hang
this meat upon the pole, where the flies won't bother
it."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span>
They took the meat off the horses at the foot of a
tall pole that stood near the corner of the house,
and by means of a pully at the top of the pole, it
was hoisted far above the ground where it would
be cool and dry, and out of the way of the flies.</p>
<p>A few days later John Monroe packed his horses,
and started on to Bear River to visit his daughter.
He said that he would return toward the end of the
summer and see them again.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XII<br />
<span class="medium">ANTELOPE KIDS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>"Son, do you want to ride down to the lake
with me," said Hugh one day in June, as they sat at
dinner.</p>
<p>"Yes, Hugh, I'd like to go. Right after dinner?"
said Jack.</p>
<p>"Yes, if your uncle don't want me, we might as
well start right off. You get your gun and catch up
the horses, and I'll come down and saddle up as
soon as I can."</p>
<p>Jack caught the horses and took them to the
barn, where he found Hugh waiting, and in a few
moments they were on their way. When they had
nearly reached the lake, Hugh turned to Jack and
said, "Now, maybe we'll see some fun. This morning
when I was in the pasture, I saw an old doe
antelope down on the flat here, and I reckon she's
got kids hidden somewhere. We can lie behind the
hill and watch for them. Maybe we'll have company
too; there's likely to be a coyote or two
about, so you may as well fetch your gun with
you."</p>
<p>They left the horses in a little hollow, and creeping
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span>
up to the top of the hill, carefully looked over
it. At first they could see nothing living, but after
a moment Hugh said, "Look out! keep close!
there's a coyote coming out of the gulch over
there." They watched the cunning animal as it
trotted out into the flat where the grass was up to
its belly, and there it began to quarter the ground,
just like a hunting dog, yet every moment or two
it would pause and look up toward the hills, as if
it were afraid of something that was coming. What
this something was they soon saw, for presently a
doe antelope came galloping over the hills toward
the flat, and when she saw the coyote she ran
faster, directly toward it. As soon as it saw the
doe, the coyote dropped its head and tail and started
to run away, at first slowly, but, as the antelope
drew nearer to it, much faster, until presently it was
running nearly as fast as the doe. Before it had
crossed the flat the antelope had nearly caught it,
and now the coyote was running as fast as it could,
with its tail tucked between its legs, like a frightened
cur. As the little wolf ran up to the hill on which
they were lying, the antelope caught up with it, and
several times struck it with her hoof, and each time
she did so, the wolf yelled with pain, just as a dog
would yell when struck with a whip. Wolf and
antelope passed close by the watchers and soon
disappeared over the next hill.</p>
<p>Then Hugh said to Jack, "Look out, now! that
coyote has a partner somewhere about, and, unless
I am mistaken, he will show up in two or three
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span>
minutes." Sure enough, when they turned around
and looked at the flat, there was a coyote just
beginning to search through the grass, as the other
one had done. It was evident that these two
wolves were working together, and that while one
led the doe away from the neighbourhood of her
young ones, the other searched to try to find out
where they were hidden. However, the old doe
seemed to be pretty wise and did not chase the first
coyote far; so that the one left on the ground had
hardly time to begin his hunt before the antelope
made her appearance again on the flat, and drove
him off. As she began to do this, Hugh said to
Jack, "Now, turn around and keep a good look-out
for the other coyote; you may get a chance to kill
him as he comes back." They had not been watching
very long when the little wolf that had just been
chased away came trotting unconcernedly around
the base of the knoll, only a short distance from
them. They sat quite still and he did not notice
them, but went on until he reached the top of the
rise from which he could see the flat. Here he
stopped only about forty yards from Jack, and a
careful shot dropped him in his tracks.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "that's a good shot, and a
good job too. That other coyote will have to go
now and hunt up another partner. I reckon we've
saved them kids. Maybe if we lie here a little longer
and watch, the old doe will go up to her young
ones, and we'll see where they are hidden; then, if
you like, we can catch them and take them home."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span>
"Let's wait and see if we can find them," said Jack.
"I'd like awfully well to see them and see what they
look like, but I don't want to take them away from
the old one; she's had trouble enough with these
coyotes; let's leave her young ones with her."</p>
<p>"That suits me to a T," said Hugh. "Let's
move down a little bit from the top of the hill and
skin this coyote, and we can look at the old doe
every little while, and if she isn't bothered, likely
before long she will go to her young ones."</p>
<p>They skinned the wolf, and every now and then
either Hugh or Jack went to the top of the hill and
looked over at the antelope. The coyotes bothered
her no more; she fed about in the flat, and at length
went up on a little side hill and lay down for an
hour or two. Then she rose and began to feed
again, and after wandering about in rather an aimless
fashion for half an hour, she walked over to a
bare hillside, where nothing seemed to be growing,
and in a moment they saw two tiny kids standing
by her side.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "you notice well where those
kids are, and we'll go and get the horses and ride
over to them. You will see that just as soon as we
show ourselves, the kids will disappear and the old
one will run off. You won't be able to see the kids
until you're right on top of them."</p>
<p>Sure enough, when they rode over the hills, and
the old doe saw them, she cantered away and no
young ones were to be seen, but when they reached
the spot, two small grey objects looking at a little
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span>
distance like stones, lay on the ground there. Jack
dismounted and picked one up; its legs and head
hung down as if it were dead; it made no movement
and uttered no sound, but its bright little eye
was full and round.</p>
<p>"That's the way it is with them," said Hugh.
"Until they are a week or ten days old they act
just like that. I expect it's born in them to act like
they are dead until their mother tells them it's safe
to seem to be alive."</p>
<p>It was a little hard for Jack to leave the kids
here. They were such queer-looking little beasts
that his wish to possess them almost overcame the
sympathy he had felt for their mother, but after
what he had said to Hugh he was ashamed to
change; and so, rather regretfully, he left the kids
lying there on the hillside, for their mother to find
when she came back.</p>
<p>As they rode toward the house, talking of the
animals they had been watching, Jack was loud in
his sympathy for the antelope, and declared that if
he could do so, he would kill every coyote in the
country. "Well, I don't know, son," said Hugh,
"Coyotes are mean and do right smart of mischief,
but they've got feelings, just like folks. Did ye
ever think of that?"</p>
<p>"How do you mean, Hugh?" asked Jack.</p>
<p>"Why, I mean that they've got to eat and
drink, and sleep, just like the antelope, or, for
the matter of that, just like us. They've got little
ones to look out for and feed, and I make no doubt
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span>
the old mother coyote thinks just as much of her
young ones as the antelope does of hers. I don't
mean to say that I like coyotes; they're pesky
critters, and often I get mad with them and feel,
like you do, that I'd like to kill 'em all; but what I
say is that it ain't no more cruel for a coyote to kill
an antelope, than it is for an antelope to take a bite
of grass."</p>
<p>"I never thought of it in that way, Hugh, but
that is so. But you can't help feeling sorry for the
little kids and for the old ones, too."</p>
<p>"That's all right enough, but what I say is, if you
are going to feel sorry for one thing, you've got to
feel sorry for all. And what's more, talking about
coyotes, they're so almighty smart, that you can't
help admiring them, and thinking they earn all they
get."</p>
<p>Talking about these things, they rode over the
low hills till they had come to the edge of the valley
leading up to the house. Here Hugh checked his
horse and pointed to a small animal, walking about
in an aimless way near the gully through which the
creek flowed. "There's a badger," he said. "Now, if
you like, we can get down into the creek bed and
creep up close to him and watch him for a spell.
What do you say?"</p>
<p>"That'll be bully; let's do it; but can we get
close enough to see him well?"</p>
<p>"There won't be any trouble about that, but we'll
have to go back a little ways," said Hugh. "Come
on."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span>
They rode back a short distance, and around a
little hill, and dismounting, walked down into the
bed of the stream. The banks of the narrow water-course
were eight or ten feet high, and of course
hid them from anything on the level of the valley.
After they had gone some little distance, Hugh
signed with his hand to Jack to wait, and slowly
raising his head above the bank, looked through a
bunch of grass growing on its edge. After a
moment he motioned Jack to come up beside him,
and whispered to him, "He's right close, not twenty
feet away;" and he pointed. Jack looked carefully
over the bank and saw a queer short-legged grey
animal with white stripes on his face, walking about
and smelling at some little piles of earth. The long
hair on either side of its body almost swept the
ground, its face had an expression of great cunning,
and its nose was long and pointed. It was a heavy,
thickset animal, only about two feet long and very
broad, but it stepped lightly enough from place to
place, snuffing at each lump of earth or tuft of
grass that it came to, not as if it were very much
interested in it, but as if it felt that it would not do
to pass by anything without examining it. Sometimes
it would scrape away a little dirt, and smell
the ground, and then move on. Often it lifted its
head high and sniffed the air, moving its nose about
and wrinkling it, as if to catch the faintest scent.</p>
<p>Now and then it sat up on its haunches and looked
about, as if to see if any danger were near. When
it did this, it held itself much as Jack had seen a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span>
woodchuck. "He keeps a pretty good look-out,
don't he?" whispered Hugh.</p>
<p>"You bet," said Jack, "he looks as if he knew
pretty well how to take care of himself. How
strong he seems to be, and what a sly, cunning face
he has."</p>
<p>A few moments later the badger suddenly sat up
very straight, with his fore legs hanging down by his
side, and looked sharply toward a hill away from
the house. In a few seconds the animal dropped
down on all fours and galloped away toward a
near-by hillside. "I expect he hears something
coming, and he's making tracks for his hole. Ah,
that's what it is," said Hugh, and he pointed to the
hill toward which the badger had looked. Over this
hill a man came riding, and about his horse were
trotting half a dozen great, gaunt hounds. One of
them saw the badger, and instantly the whole pack
swept down the hill toward it, but just before
the leading dog overtook it, the badger disappeared,
and the dogs checked themselves and stopped. "I
expect that's the Powell kid," said Hugh, as he
climbed up the bank, followed by Jack. "He has
a lot o' hounds, and catches considerable many
coyotes."</p>
<p>As they walked back toward their horses, they
met the rider, a boy only a little older than Jack,
who seemed to know Hugh very well, and who
shook hands with Jack, giving him a hard grip that
almost hurt him. "Well, kid," said Hugh, "did ye
get any coyotes to-day?" "Yes, I got three, and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span>
started two more, but they got so big a start on me
that I couldn't catch 'em. I got a kitfox too, but
the dogs tore him all to pieces. Like to have got
that badger that was near you, but he holed too
quick."</p>
<p>"Better ride on up to the house and unsaddle,
and get supper, and stop," said Hugh. "It's too
late for ye to get home to-night."</p>
<p>"All right," said the boy, and whistling to
his dogs, he rode on. Hugh and Jack soon overtook
him, and when the three reached the barn, the
stranger's horse was put in a stall, while the others
were turned out. At the house young Powell was
cordially welcomed by Mr. Sturgis, and soon all
were seated at the supper table.</p>
<p>That evening the two boys had a long talk, and
afterward a consultation with Hugh. Then Hugh
went to Mr. Sturgis and asked him if he was willing
to have Jack and himself go over the next day to
the Powell ranch for two or three days, so that Jack
might have a chance to see the hounds run coyotes.
Jack's uncle said that he thought it a very good
idea. So the next morning, just about sunrise, they
set out on the thirty-mile ride.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XIII<br />
<span class="medium">JACK KILLS A LION</span></h2>
</div>
<p>As they started off this morning Jack felt good;
he had been promoted; he was riding a new horse.
The grey, on which he had taken his first lessons in
riding, was old and steady and slow; very good to
travel over the prairie on, but past his usefulness
for any purpose except hunting or going after the
saddle horses. So, a week or two before, Hugh had
caught up for him a new horse, and he had tried it
several times. It was a brown, seven years old, perfectly
gentle, yet with plenty of spirit. Hugh had
ridden it a good deal, and told him that it was one
of the best horses at the ranch; kind, gentle, very
swift, and, better than all, a good hunting horse.
He had said, "You don't need to watch the Brown
when you're riding over the prairie, going anywhere,
but if you ever start him after a bunch of elk or a
band of buffalo, look out for him, unless you want
to get right into the middle of them. He can catch
elk too easy, and is faster than any buffalo cow I
ever saw."</p>
<p>Jack wanted a good name for the horse. He did
not like to call him merely Brown; he wanted a name
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span>
that would mean something. Half a dozen names
had been suggested, but none of them seemed quite
to fit the horse. At last he decided that he would
call the animal by the name of some Indian tribe.
Blackfoot seemed a pretty good name, because the
horse's feet were all black, but after thinking it over
with a good deal of care, he determined to call the
horse Pawnee.</p>
<p>This morning when they mounted and rode away,
young Powell was loud in his praise of Jack's horse.
He said, "I'll bet he's got the legs of any of
these three horses. Mine is pretty fast and keeps
pretty close to the dogs in the chase, but yours
will run away from him as if he was standing
still."</p>
<p>"That's right," said Hugh, "he's an awful
good horse, and what's more, he's just as kind as
he's good. You can get off him to hunt, and leave
him, and you'll feel sure when you come back he'll
be feeding in the same place. If you fire a shot, he
puts up his head and looks at you with his ears
pricked up, to see whether you've killed or not.
Then, after you have butchered, if you lead him up
to an animal to put the meat on him, he'll snort
and curve his neck and look like he was terrible
scared; but when you commence to lift the meat to
put it on his back, he'll kind of crouch down and lean
towards you, to make it easier for you to get it on.
You can shoot off him and he'll never move. Sometimes
I've thought that when I raised the gun to my
shoulder to shoot he stopped breathing for a minute.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span>
I know he always kind o' spreads his legs to hold
himself steady. You've got a good horse now, son,
and I'd advise you to hang on to him as long as
you're here at the ranch."</p>
<p>The ride down the valley was a pleasant one.
The blue iris stood thick in the damp places. The
brilliant red and yellow flowers of the cactus dotted
the hillsides. White poppy blossoms swung in the
wind, and, if one had been on foot the tiny blooms
of the yellow violets, which send their roots so far
down into the hard dry soil of the prairie, could have
been seen thickly scattered on the slopes. It was a
time, too, of singing birds. The clear, sweet whistle
of the meadow-lark came from the hills near-by, and
was answered from other farther hills in a faint refrain,
which sounded like an echo. The little finches
of the prairie rose from the ground high in air,
and then descended slowly on motionless wings,
singing as if their throats would burst. From far
on high fell the tinkling notes of the unseen prairie
skylark floating above them. Little ground squirrels
and prairie dogs were busy everywhere, but as the
horsemen and troop of dogs drew near, they scattered
to their holes, and, after a few angry barks and
squeaks, disappeared from sight. Now and then as
they passed over some swell of the prairie they
startled an antelope or two or three, which ran up
on the neighbouring hills and stood there stamping
and snorting. The dogs would look at them eagerly
yet doubtfully, and would perhaps trot a little way
toward them, but young Powell always whistled
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span>
them back. The prairie and the air above it were
full of pleasant sights and sounds.</p>
<p>Young Powell said to Jack, "The dogs had some
hard runs yesterday, and I don't want them to be chasing
antelope to-day, and so far from home. I don't run
antelope often, anyhow, though I've got some with
these dogs, but I use them mainly for wolves and
coyotes; and it's a bad thing to have a lot of dogs
think that they can run anything that gets up before
them on the prairie. If I was going to run antelope,
I'd have a special bunch of dogs for running them,
and for nothing else."</p>
<p>"Then they've caught antelopes, have they?"
asked Jack. "It hardly seems to me as if anything
could catch an antelope, when it's really running as
hard as it can."</p>
<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Powell, "there's lots of
difference in antelopes. Some of them can run
twice as fast as others. I almost roped an old doe
once in a fair chase, and I wasn't riding anything
but a slow cow pony at that. I never felt quite
sure though whether I could have caught her or not,
or whether she was just fooling me. I ran her and
she took down a valley, and I caught up with her,
and got so close that I was just getting my rope
ready to throw, when she ran across a little green
place where the grass stood pretty high. I would
not have tried to cross it if I hadn't been after
her, for it looked kind of wet, but I couldn't stop,
and I put the spurs into the old horse, and he
jumped right into the middle of it and stayed there,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span>
and I kept going and hit the hard ground on the
other side. When I got up and caught the horse, the
antelope was out of sight. Still, I know mighty
well that there's a big difference in antelope. You
take an old buck, and even if you get a good start
on him, the dogs have a hard time to get up to him.
You take an old doe, or a yearling buck, and it's almost
always caught a heap easier. You see those
two little blue dogs, the smooth ones, the two that are
ahead? They're the fastest dogs I've got. I always
depend on them to stop a coyote or a wolf. If they
can catch him and throw him it's a mighty short time
till the other dogs get up, and then they all pitch in
and chew him. These two yellow, rough-haired dogs
here, the biggest ones, they're the fighters. They
bring up the tail of the chase, but when they get to
the wolf they don't stop, they pitch right in. If it's
a coyote, one of them generally gets him across the
chest and the other in the flank, and then the rest
of the dogs take hold wherever they can, and they
all pull in different directions. It don't take no
time at all to kill a coyote, but of course a big wolf
is different. I've had three dogs killed by wolves,
and each one only had one bite. They're terrible
strong, powerful animals.</p>
<p>"I want to show you twelve pups that I've got at
the ranch. They're little fellows yet, but I expect
to get some awful good dogs out of them. I tell
you a dog don't last any time at all at this sort of
work. Some of 'em get cut up by the wolves, and
some break their legs or sprain their shoulders, running,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span>
and some get hurt by the horses. It's a pretty
rough life on a dog; but while they last they've
an awful good time." Chatting thus, they covered
mile after mile of prairie. Jack's horse stepped
along lightly and easily. From time to time Hugh
lit his pipe and smoked. Powell watched his dogs.
The sun was warm, the air clear and pleasant, and
Jack thought that he had never enjoyed a morning
more.</p>
<p>Suddenly, just in front of the two blue hounds
that were trotting before them, a jack-rabbit bounced
up and scurried away at top speed. In an instant
all the dogs were running for it, and Jack and young
Powell were close at their heels. It was a short run.
The leading blue dog pressed the rabbit hard; he
dodged in front of the second dog, and in a moment
had to dodge again, which threw him into the jaws
of the first and he had run his last race. It was
short but exciting; doubly so to Jack who had
never seen anything of the sort. Powell jumped
down among the hounds and cuffed and scolded
them, while he took from them the fragments of the
rabbit, and then mounted, and they all went on.
A little later the dogs all broke away again after a
badger which showed himself on the side hill; but he
dodged into his hole before they reached him, and
the dogs came back, looking foolish. Powell now
took from a pocket in his saddle a whip, with a
handle about a foot and a half long, and a lash of
eight or ten feet, and whenever a dog pressed forward
ahead of the horses, he struck at it, and after
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span>
a little while the whole pack followed obediently at
his horse's heels.</p>
<div><a name="the_animal_launched_itself_from_its_perch_full_towards_jack" id="the_animal_launched_itself_from_its_perch_full_towards_jack"></a></div>
<div class="figcenter">
<img class="mw" src="images/i002.jpg" alt="" />
<div class="caption">
<p>"THE ANIMAL LAUNCHED ITSELF FROM ITS PERCH FULL TOWARDS JACK."
—<i>Page <a href="#Page_131">131</a></i>.</p>
</div></div>
<p>It was long past noon when they reached some
high hills, rough and scarred with broken bad lands,
on which grew a few stunted pines and cedars. They
were climbing these hills, Jack a little in advance,
when he saw rise from a shelf in the rocks, a long,
slim, yellow animal, which began to sneak away up
a ravine.</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh, what's that?" the boy cried; and
at the same time Powell gave a yell, which started
all the dogs forward. "A mountain lion," Hugh
called back: "The dogs will tree him, sure! Look
out for him!" Jack hardly heard the words, for he
was pressing forward close after the dogs, not thinking
of the rough ground over which he was riding,
but half wild with the excitement of the chase.
The horses climbed the steep scarp of the hills at a
run, and in a moment Jack found himself galloping
over smooth, bare, yellow soil, fifty yards behind
the last of the hounds, while the two blue dogs
seemed but a few feet behind the lion. In a moment
more the beast was safe among the branches of a
cedar, the dogs clustered about its trunk, leaping
into the air and showing the greatest excitement.
When he was almost at the foot of the tree, Jack
drew up his horse, and the moment it stopped, threw
his gun to his shoulder and fired full into the chest
of the lion, which stood facing him snarling and
angrily twitching his tail this way and that. As
the gun cracked, the animal launched itself from its
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span>
perch full toward Jack; and, as he looked up at it
and saw it flying toward him, with gleaming teeth
and outstretched paws, his heart jumped up into his
throat. It looked about forty feet long. He never
knew whether he spurred Pawnee or whether the
horse started of its own accord, but it made three
or four jumps, and when Jack looked back, there
was the lion on the ground surrounded by all the
dogs, which were pulling and tugging at it viciously.
The beast was still, and Jack rode back near to it,
to be heartily scolded by Hugh, who had just come
up.</p>
<p>"Son," said he, "you done a fool trick that time.
If you'd been on any other horse you might have
been badly scratched. If you wanted to shoot at
the lion, and I make no doubt you did, you'd ought
to have stopped further off. You'll never make no
sort of a hunter if ye don't think. It's all right for a
man to take risks if there's anything to be made by
taking them, but a man who takes risks just because
he don't know no better is a fool. What's more, if
you act this way, you're liable to make a fool of me.
I'd have looked nice, wouldn't I, if you'd gone back
to the ranch all scratched up. Now, of course," he
went on more mildly, "I know you ain't anything
but a boy, and you can't be expected to have a
man's sense, but I want you to get sense as fast as
you can, and sense means experience. I'm trying
to give you as fast as I can the sense that it's took
me forty years to learn. Now, let's see where you
hit that fellow. I expect you made a right good
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span>
shot, for I didn't see the critter stir after he struck
the ground."</p>
<p>Meantime young Powell had driven the dogs from
the lion, and they had all stretched themselves out
in the shade of a cedar, where they were lying, panting,
with their tongues hanging far out of their
mouths. One of them, Jack noticed, had a long
bright red cut, extending nearly from shoulder to
hip, from which the blood was dripping fast. They
turned the lion over and found the bullet hole in
the middle of the chest. It was a good shot, indeed,
and the animal's wild spring out of the tree
was his expiring effort. He was a very large animal,
and quite old, as shown by the condition of his
teeth.</p>
<p>"Well, son," said Hugh, "you certainly are in
the biggest kind of luck. It's seven years since I've
seen a lion about here, and they're never anyways
common. Of course we wouldn't have got this fellow
if it hadn't been for the dogs; and it's great
luck for you who have only been out a month or
two now, to have had such a chance as this. You
made a mighty good shot, too, and when you take
this hide back east you'll sure have something to
talk about. I expect, though, your Ma wouldn't
have been very happy if she'd been here and seen
that lion come sailing out of that tree after you."</p>
<p>When they looked at the wounded hound they
found that the long cut in its skin was much less
serious than it seemed at first; it was hardly more
than a scratch made by a last convulsive kick by
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span>
the lion, and, while it had cut the skin, and would
leave a scar, it did not really injure the dog. They
skinned the lion, leaving the claws on the hide, and
rolled up the skin, tying it behind Jack's saddle, and
then started on their way.</p>
<p>The sun was low in the west when they came in
sight of the Powell ranch. They rode up to the
barn and began to unsaddle, while the dogs went
straight to the house. Before they had stabled the
horses they heard a clear voice calling, "Why,
Charley, what's the matter with Blue Dan? He's
all cut up." And when they reached the door of
the house they saw Mrs. Powell and Charley's sister,
Bess, a little girl of thirteen, bathing the wounded
dog, which seemed proud of the attention he was
receiving. Hugh and Jack were cordially welcomed
by Mrs. Powell, and later by her husband, when he
came in from riding; and the story of the killing of
the lion had to be told twice over. Every one congratulated
Jack on his good fortune, and it appeared
that this was the first time the dogs had ever seen
a lion. "They have killed plenty of wolves, foxes,
and coyotes," said Mr. Powell, "and two or three
wolverenes, and of course a few bob-cats, but I think
they never chased a lion before."</p>
<p>After supper Charley took Jack out, and after considerable
whistling, succeeded in bringing up to the
house two tame coyotes, pets of which Charley was
very proud. "We dug them out of a hole in the
bank of a gulch a couple of miles from here," he told
jack. "There were three of them, and they were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span>
so small that their eyes weren't open yet. I had to
kill one, for it took to killing chickens. I sort of
hated to do it, but I knew it was no use to try to
keep him and hens both, and I was afraid he would
teach the other two his tricks, so I shot him. These
two fellows are all right. There's only one thing
they do that makes me mad. Sometimes they
wander away off onto the prairie, hunting for themselves;
and two or three times I have gone after
them with the dogs, thinking that they were wild
coyotes. They will run and run as hard as they
know how, and then, when the dogs are just about
catching up to them, they'll flop over on their backs
and lie there with their legs in the air until the dogs
come up to them. Of course when the dogs get up
to them and smell them, they know them, and
won't touch them. Then the coyotes get up and
play around and wag their tails and jump about,
like they'd been doing something almighty smart.
In that way they just have fun with us."</p>
<p>When bed-time came that night, Jack was ready
for it. His thirty-mile ride and the excitement of
the day had made him very weary.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XIV<br />
<span class="medium">WOLVES AND WOLF-HOUNDS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>At breakfast next morning Mr. Powell said, "I
suppose you boys will go out with the dogs to-day,
and I wish you would go over east to where the
blue stallion's bunch ranges. There's two yearlings
been killed since I was over there last, and I believe
it's wolves that done it. If them worthless dogs of
yours would kill a few wolves instead of all these
coyotes they'd come nearer earning their keep than
they do."</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know," answered Charley, "I don't
think they've done so bad. Seven wolves since
Christmas is pretty good, I think; and the coyotes
does a heap of mischief, and are sure worth killing.</p>
<p>"Well, well," said his father, "do the best you
can to get these wolves. It's all right to kill the
coyotes, but one wolf is worse than ten of them
little fellows."</p>
<p>"Well, what time are you boys going to start
out," said Hugh. "I expect you won't want to
leave here till after dinner. I was thinking I'd go
with you, but the first thing I want to do is to stretch
that lion's skin, and I expect I've got to set and watch
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span>
it till it begins to get dry, or else them dogs of yours
will be chewing and tearing it."</p>
<p>"Oh," said Charley, "we'll have plenty of time
to get over to the blue stallion's range if we start
after dinner, and of course it might be such a thing
as we'd run onto one of them wolves, if they are
there. Did you see any tracks, father? or was it
just the way the colts were killed?"</p>
<p>"No," said his father, "I didn't have no time to
hunt around for sign, but it wan't nothing but
wolves that killed them yearlings. If they'd only
been one of them, he might have got out away from
the bunch and been cut off and killed by coyotes,
but that wouldn't happen twice in a few days. It's
wolves, I tell you, and the chances are they've got
young ones somewheres not so very far off. There's
something that 'ud make it worth your while to
hunt 'em. You might get a nest of young pups."</p>
<p>"Great Scott!" said Jack, "that would be fine."
While Hugh added, "There's a chance for you,
Charley, to get up the greatest pack of wolf-dogs
there ever was on earth. Get a lot of wolf pups,
tame 'em and train 'em to catch and kill the wild
wolves."</p>
<p>After breakfast Charley took Jack down to the
barn and showed him two litters of greyhound puppies,
both very small now, but likely to be large
enough next spring, Charley said, to be used with
the old dogs. They were queer, blunt-nosed, thick-legged
little beasts, which waddled about in most
clumsy fashion.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span>
From there the boys went down to the hen-house,
where, with great pride, Charley exhibited
his chickens and some pigeons—the only ones within
thirty miles. He complained that the hawks
killed the pigeons if they ventured far from home,
but said that from repeated frights, the birds were
learning to keep closer about the building.</p>
<p>When they reached the house again, they found
Hugh busy pegging out the lion's skin. He had
skinned out the head, cut off every bit of flesh and
fat from the hide, and pierced a number of small
holes along its margin, and was now busy with
a lot of sharp pointed wooden pegs, stretching the
skin on the grass, flesh side up, so that it would dry
and be preserved. This was new work to Jack, and
he watched it closely and asked a number of questions
about it.</p>
<p>"You see," said Hugh in reply, "if the hide ain't
stretched and dried, it ain't no good. Some folks
just take and nail up a hide any way at all against
the side of the house, and of course it will dry that
way, but it don't dry smooth, and it's apt to get
twisted and to be no account. If I take in two
hides, one dried this way, and one dried on the side
of a house, and try to sell them to a dealer, he'll
give me more for the one that is smooth and square
than he will for one that is rough and crumpled
and pulled to one side. After you know how, it
ain't much more trouble to do the thing right than
it is to do it wrong, so I think it pays better to do
it right. There's lots to drying a hide that a good
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span>
many people don't know. Now, a thin hide, like
this one here, glazes over quick, and don't take no
time at all to dry, except maybe the lips, the feet,
and the tail, but if I had a bear hide, or a beef's
hide, I wouldn't stretch it out here in the hot sun
to dry, or if I did, I'd build some sort of a shade
over it, so that it would dry slowly. You take them
hides that's right thick, and they're awful liable
to burn if the sun's right hot. Now you take it
when they was beaver in the country; no man ever
thought of putting his fur out in the sun to dry.
He hung his pelts up in the brush or in trees in the
shade, and let the wind do the drying for him, and
not the sun. There," he continued, as he pushed
in his last peg to hold the tail straight, "Now, in
an hour or two that hide will be set, so it'll hold its
shape, and then you can take it up and hang it up
in the barn. Now I'm going over to the creek to
clean the meat off this skull. It's a big one, and you
might as well take it home with you, 'long with
the hide."</p>
<p>The work of cutting the meat from the skull, and
of removing the brain, by breaking it up with a stick,
did not take very long, but while it lasted Jack and
Charley were much interested in watching the shoals
of tiny fish which gathered in the stream, just below
where Hugh was working, and fed on and fought
over the fragments of brain and meat which floated
down to them.</p>
<p>"Where in time did these fish all come from,
Hugh?" asked Charley. "I never saw any fish in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span>
the creek before. It seems like they ought to be
big ones here too. These little fellers are bound to
grow up, I expect."</p>
<p>"I guess not," said Hugh. "I guess these are
the little kind that don't never grow no bigger. You
take these little chickadees or these little brown
ground birds; you never heard of them growing as
big as an eagle or goose, did you? I expect likely
there's a good many different sorts of fishes, just
like there's a good many sorts of birds and animals,
and each sort has its own size that it grows up to
be, and it don't grow no bigger. These little fellows
that you see here have come from a long way
down the creek. You see, the water carries down
the smell of the meat and the blood, and these fish
follow up the trail through the water, just the same
as a dog or a coyote will follow your trail over the
prairie."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know that's so, Hugh," said Jack. "I've
seen something just like this, fishing for bluefish,
down in Great South Bay."</p>
<p>"What's Great South Bay, and where's it at?"
said Charley.</p>
<p>"Why, it's on the south shore of Long Island,
and it opens out into the ocean. If you could see
far enough, and the world wasn't round, you could
look across from there to Europe."</p>
<p>"Jerusalem, down at the edge of the salt water!"
murmured Hugh.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "I've been down there fishing.
They anchor the boat somewhere near the channel
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span>
and then chop up a lot of bunkers, that's a
very oily fish, you know, and then they throw this
chopped-up fish overboard, a little at a time, and
it floats down with the tide and makes a long slick
on the water. It looks like a long, shiny ribbon.
Well, the bluefish swimming around strike this
slick, and follow it up until they come near to the
boat, where the fishermen have their lines out with
pieces of bunker on the hooks, then the fun begins.
I have seen 'em catch bluefish that were longer
than my rifle barrel."</p>
<p>"Well, well," said Hugh; "I expect them fish is
mighty good eating, too. I'd like to catch one,
but what I'd like better would be to stand on the
shore there, and look out over that big water and
maybe see the ships go sailing by."</p>
<p>After a last scrape and a last shake of the now
partly cleaned skull, Hugh turned to Charley and
said, "Kid, have ye got any ant-hills round here,
where I can put this skull for awhile? I'd like to
get them ants to finish up this job for me, but I
don't want to put the skull where the dogs or the
coyotes or the badgers will get hold of it and pack
it off."</p>
<p>"There's plenty of ant-hills," said Charley, "on
the side hill just up the creek, and I don't think
nothing will touch the skull if you put it there.
Coyotes and badgers don't come round the house
much and the dogs won't be likely to get up there
on the hill."</p>
<p>"We'll chance it, I guess, anyhow," said Hugh;
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span>
and they walked over to the hillside and half buried
the skull in one of the largest and busiest of the ant-hills.
After waiting a few moments, they saw that
the new supply of food had been discovered and
was being swarmed over by the eager ants, and then
returning to the house, they found dinner was
ready.</p>
<p>After dinner they saddled up and rode east over
the prairie, to the range where the blue stallion held
his bunch of horses. Nothing was seen on the way,
for, as Charley said, the coyotes were pretty well
cleared out immediately about the ranch. They
had gone perhaps six miles, when a sound like the
weak bark of a dog was heard from a near-by hillside,
which Charley and Hugh both thought was a coyote
barking. They galloped in the direction of the
sound and when they topped the rise a little wolf
was seen making off, more than half a mile away.
It took a minute or two for the dogs to view him,
but presently one of them saw him and started, and
in an instant afterward the whole pack were strung
out, closely followed by the riders. The speed of
Pawnee gave Jack a great advantage over his companions,
and he was soon but a short distance behind
the heavier and slower dogs. Presently he had
forged up alongside of them, and at length had
passed all the hounds except the two blue ones
The coyote had not run straight away, but had bent
his course a little to the north, and dogs and horses,
taking advantage of this turn, had cut off the corner
and made a decided gain on him. Slowly but steadily
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span>
the blue dogs crept up; both were running at
about the same rate of speed, yet one kept three or
four lengths behind the other, but both were gaining
on the wolf. As they passed over a little swell in
the prairie the leading dog was only a yard behind
the prey, and just after Jack had come in sight of
them again, both dogs put on a burst of speed, and
the leading one, catching the coyote by the ham,
tossed his head, and coyote and dog rolled over together.
Almost at the same moment the second
hound had the wolf by the throat, and, as Jack
checked his horse, the big yellow dogs swept by
him, and in an instant each had his hold and each
stood braced back, pulling against the other five.
A moment later Charley came up, and then Hugh,
and all dismounted, while Charley made the hounds
loose their hold, and horses and dogs stood about
with lowered heads and heaving flanks.</p>
<p>"That fellow got too much of a start on us," said
Charley, "I didn't think they'd catch him, and they
wouldn't have done it either if he had not been a
young one. He didn't really think they were after
him until they'd come pretty close, and then it was
too late for him to get away. His hide isn't very
badly torn. I guess I'll take it along with me, and
I'll get the bounty, even if I can't sell the hide."
The time taken in skinning the wolf gave all the
animals an opportunity to get their wind again, and
when Charley had tied the hide on behind his saddle,
all mounted and started on. Jack was full of enthusiasm
for this sport. Never before had he enjoyed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span>
such a fast ride, or had before him something that
he felt he must overtake, or felt so strong a sympathy
with the pursuers as on this afternoon.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Charley, "It's lots of fun, but you
want to see them when they get a good start on a
wolf. Then, besides the fun of the chase, there's
the excitement of the fight that's sure to take place
at the end of the chase. We ran down an old wolf
last fall that killed one of the dogs, crippled another,
and beat off the whole pack. He ran again when
we came up, but they stopped him, and we finally
had to kill him with a six-shooter. The dogs would
not tackle him he was so big and strong."</p>
<p>"I never saw anything like it," said Jack, "when
that small hound, that seemed not to weigh half as
much as the coyote, threw up his head, the coyote
just turned a summersault and before I could think
what was going to happen next, the other dog had
him by the neck, and it seemed to be all over."</p>
<p>They had not finished exchanging opinions about
this chase, when, as they rode down into a narrow
gully, a great animal jumped up from the shade of
a little bush, dashed across a ravine and up the other
side, while yells from Charley and Hugh proclaimed
this a wolf; but the dogs had disappeared
over the edge of the ravine before the men got their
horses started into a run. For a long way the prairie
before them was smooth and level, and it seemed
as if the whole chase must take place before their
eyes. The dogs were running bunched up close at
the heels of the wolf, the two blue dogs being only
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span>
a little in the lead. Pawnee was running free, and
nearly as fast as he could, for Jack never thought
of checking him, or even of holding him up. The
wolf seemed to be less swift than the coyote had
been, and ran a little heavily, and the dogs were
manifestly gaining on him, while Jack was gaining
on the dogs. Very slowly but very steadily the
pack, still keeping quite close together, crept up to
the wolf, and at last the two blue dogs, this time
side by side, forged up to his quarters. At the same
moment, as it seemed, they reached out, and each
catching him by a ham, gave him a little twitch and
he rolled over, and before he could gain his feet
was covered by the dogs. In a moment Jack was
beside them, and, putting a strong pull on Pawnee,
the horse plunged his forefeet into the ground, half
threw himself on his haunches to stop, and Jack, unprepared
for the sudden halt, flew out of the saddle,
turned a summersault and came down heavily on
his back, close to the struggling mass of dogs and
wolf. He was a good deal jarred, but jumped to his
feet and retreated a few yards. The struggle still
continued, but in a moment more it was over, and
the dogs had the wolf stretched out and were pulling
against each other as he had seen them pull at the
coyote. But there was one dog lying on the ground,
breathing hard and bleeding freely from a horrible
gash in his side. Charley and Hugh now came up,
and the former, with his pistol in hand, stepped up
to the dogs. The wolf was quite dead, but though
he proved to be a young one he had badly damaged
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span>
the pack before he died. Two or three of the dogs
had bad cuts, and the bite that had disabled one of
the yellow hounds had crushed two ribs and had
probably entered the lungs, for the dog was bleeding
at the mouth and nose, as an animal does that has
been shot through the lungs. Charley felt badly
over the injury to his pets, and declared that they
could go no further that day, but that he must take
the pack back to the ranch, and must carry the
crippled dog on his horse. They bound up its
wounds with such rough surgery as was possible,
and then, placing it across Charley's horse, started
slowly for the ranch.</p>
<p>They had gone but a mile or two when, as they
were riding along, they noticed a faint odour of
decaying meat. Hugh left them here, and telling
them that he would soon rejoin them, rode away
against the wind. Half or three quarters of an hour
later he overtook them. For a little while he was
busy filling and lighting his pipe, and then he
turned to Charley and said, "Well, kid, if you
want to start that new pack of hounds, I guess we
can do it to-morrow. I have found the place where
the old wolf has got her puppies, and, unless she
moves them to-night, we ought to be able to dig
them out to-morrow. I expect you'll all be glad to
use a pick and shovel doing this, if for no other
reason than to save your stock."</p>
<p>"Why, Hugh," said Jack, "how in the world did
you find where they were?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "you all noticed that smell
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span>
of rotten meat back there a ways. I thought maybe
it might come from the wolf's hole, or of course it
might come from some animal that had died. I
followed it up and it grew stronger and stronger,
and at last I came to the edge of a ravine, where I
could see the wolf's hole, and, from the carrion about
it, I saw that they were still living there. To-morrow,
if Powell feels like it, we'll go up there with
the waggon and maybe get the pups."</p>
<p>"You bet, father'll feel like it," said Charley.
"He'll do most anything to get rid of these wolves."</p>
<p>When they reached the ranch, the first thing to
be done was to care for the wounded dogs. Two
of them had to have stitches taken to close their
cuts, while the one most badly hurt had his wound
washed out, the fragments of shattered bone removed,
and was then placed so that he could not
move. There seemed a fair prospect of his recovery.</p>
<p>At supper that night Mr. Powell was told of the
discovery of the wolf's den, and gladly promised
that he would go over there with the waggon and
plenty of tools, in the hope that the young wolves
might be captured or destroyed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XV<br />
<span class="medium">DIGGING OUT A WOLF'S DEN</span></h2>
</div>
<p>As all hands were down at the barn next morning,
the two men hitching up the team and the boys
saddling their horses, Hugh said, "I guess I'll ride
in the waggon this morning and let old Baldy have a
rest. I'm getting to be too old to race round over
the prairie the way I've been doing the last two
days. But I want you to look out for yourself
to-day, son. I don't want anything bad to happen
to you while we're off here away from the ranch.
You seem to have a natural way of getting yourself
into trouble. Two days ago you came pretty near
being clawed by a lion, and yesterday you took a
sort of a running jump into a scuffle between dogs
and a wolf. You've got to look out for yourself and
try to keep a head on your shoulders and think
where you're going. When I saw you fly out of the
saddle yesterday I could not help wondering whether
you'd kill two or three dogs when you came down,
or yourself. Do you feel pretty sore this morning?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "my shoulders are pretty
lame, and my head aches a little, but I think I'll be
all right after I've ridden a little way."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span>
They started off all together, the boys riding
soberly just ahead of the waggon. The prairie was
rough with sage-brush and the team could only advance
at a walk; so it took them nearly two hours
to get to the ravine where the wolf's hole was. If
Jack had been alone he would not have been able to
find the place, but Charley seemed to know just
where it was, and when Jack spoke to him about this
he said, "Oh, it's easy enough. You see, I am riding
all the time, and I know pretty nearly every hill
and ravine within ten miles of the ranch, in any
direction. Then, of course, there's the big high hills
for landmarks, and even if I don't know the precise
place that I am going to I can always ride toward
the hill that I know lies beyond it. Then of course,
the sun always gives a fellow his direction, and often
the wind too, though you can't depend on that, for
sometimes the hills make eddies, and the wind
seems to change its direction."</p>
<p>"Why did you leave all the dogs at home?" said
Jack, "I should think they might be useful in case
you find the old wolf near the den."</p>
<p>"We ain't likely to do that," said Charley. "She's
fed her puppies early this morning, and is probably
lying up on some hill, quite a little way from the
hole, and will see us and sneak off long before we
get to it. Besides that, the dogs have had hard
work for the last three or four days, and some of
them are cut up too badly to take out, and even
those that are well are likely to get tender-footed
if they are run too often."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span>
When they reached the ravine where the hole
was, they drove down into it and stopped the team
on the windward side. Hugh went up to look at
the place, and returning, announced that he believed
the pups were still there. They picketed out the
horses where they could feed, and then carried up
near to the hole the picks and spades, and a slatted
box that had been prepared to hold the puppies, if
they caught them, some sacks and a lot of leather
strings, and a long slim pole that Hugh had cut that
morning.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "I am going to try and find
the direction this hole takes, and while I am doing
that it would be good for you boys to cover up this
mess."</p>
<p>The mouth of the hole was foul with decaying
meat, old bones, parts of calves, colts, and rabbits
that had been brought there by the old wolf for the
young to eat and play with, and a little fresh dirt
thrown over all this made the place much pleasanter.</p>
<p>Hugh worked for some time with his pole, trying
to determine the direction in which the hole ran,
but without much success. He could thrust the
stick in for five or six feet, but, twist it as he might,
it would not go further than that. The two men,
therefore, took their picks and vigorously attacked
the side of the bank, breaking down the dirt, which
they afterward shovelled out. The bank was steep,
and in order to make room to work they had to
loosen and remove a considerable quantity of dirt,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span>
so that their progress was slow. The morning was
warm, and the work gradually grew harder and
harder. About six feet from the entrance the hole
took a sharp upward turn, and then seemed to run
straight in. Probing it with his pole, Hugh felt
something soft, and then pushing it in a little
further, reached a wall of dirt, which he pronounced
the end of the den. By moving the point of the
pole from side to side he could feel the young
wolves, and once, when he gave a sharp push, a
sound like the yelping of a pup in pain came from
the hole.</p>
<p>"Now, Powell," said Hugh, "if we can make this
hole a little larger, so that I can work my pole, I'll
put a rope on the end of it and try and snare some
of them puppies. We've got to go pretty careful,
though. I expect these little fellows are pretty
good size by now, and they're likely as not to make
a bolt out of the hole when we get close to them,
and maybe get off. Wish we had one of the dogs
here. I'll tell you what you two boys do: you get
your gun, son, and Charley, you take your six-shooter,
and stand just behind us, and if anything
runs out, you try to kill it, but look out you
don't shoot your father nor me, and look out
you don't shoot the horses. These pups can't
run very fast yet, and you'll have plenty of
time to take a careful sight at them, and get
them."</p>
<p>The boys did as they were told, and while the
work with pick and shovel progressed, waited and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span>
watched. Nothing came out, however, and after a
time Hugh declared that he was going to try to
snare the pups. He fastened a short rope to the end
of his pole and made in it a running noose about a
foot in diameter. Then he lay down and began to
angle for the little wolves. For some time he
worked without success, but at length, giving a
quick jerk, he rose to his feet, declaring, "I've got
one," and dragged to the light a kicking, yelping
puppy, caught by a hind leg. It was a dull white,
woolly little beast, sharp-nosed and thick-legged,
and about as big as a three months' old Newfoundland
pup. As soon as it appeared, it was seized by
Mr. Powell, who had wisely put on his heavy
leather gloves. The creature fought like a little
demon, and bit, and kicked, and struggled, and
yelled, but soon a string of buckskin was tied about
its muzzle, confining its jaws, its four legs were tied
together, and it was thrown in a gunny sack, which
was tied up and put in the slatted box. Again and
again Hugh tried to get another, but without success,
and finally, in disgust, he threw his pole aside,
and the men attacked the bank again. Another
hour's work enabled them to look into the hole,
and to see a mass of grey huddled together, almost
within arm's length of the opening. Hugh declared
that if one of his arms were only six feet long, instead
of three, he would reach in and haul the
puppies out one by one with his hand. The
entrance to the hole was now so large that either of
the boys might have crawled in, as both proposed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span>
to do, but the men declined to permit this. Cutting
off his pole to about the depth of the hole, Hugh
again began to try to noose the pups, and this time
with success, for one by one he hauled out three
more, which were disposed of as the first had been.
The last pup, taking advantage of a moment when
he had moved away from the hole, bolted out, but
was struck a mighty blow with the spade by Mr.
Powell and killed on the spot.</p>
<p>"Well," said Powell, "I calculate that's a mighty
good day's job. Those five pups during the winter
would have eaten five hundred dollars' worth of
beef, and might have killed five thousand dollars'
worth. It seems like I ought to make you men a
good present for what you have done to help get
rid of these varmints."</p>
<p>"Pshaw!" said Hugh, "we've been mighty glad
to do it, and I expect son, here, would be mighty
glad to take his pay in one or two of them pups
that's in the waggon."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, Mr. Powell," said Jack, "we've
been glad to help, and it's been great fun. Of
course, if you and Charley don't want all these
pups, I'd like one of them for myself, to see if I
could not tame him and make a dog of him. It
would be great fun to walk up and down the streets
of New York, leading a real wolf at the end of a
chain. I expect he'd take first prize at all the dog
shows."</p>
<p>"I expect likely he would," said Mr. Powell,
"and you'd be certain sure he had a good straight
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span>
pedigree, running back to the first wolf that ever
came to America."</p>
<p>Mrs. Powell had put a lunch in the waggon, but
before this could be eaten water must be found.
Charley said that not more than a half-mile away
there was a good clear spring, running out from
under a rock in the bank, and when they went to the
place they spent a pleasant hour eating their lunch,
and lying in the shade of the waggon. Jack and
Charley looked once or twice at the wolf pups, to see
that they were still alive and still properly tied, and,
at length, as the sun began to fall toward the western
horizon, the party started for the ranch.</p>
<p>When they got there, it was necessary to make a
permanent cage for the wolf puppies, as no box or
rope would hold them long after their jaws were
free. Charley asked Hugh what they had better do.
They could build a log pen, but if they did that the
pups would be likely to dig out under the logs.
Hugh studied for a while and at length said, "I'll
tell you what we've got to do; we've got to build a
regular cage, with walls so smooth and high that the
pups can't climb up them, and running down into
the ground so far that they won't be likely to dig
out under them. Now, you go and ask your pa if
we can use a lot of fence poles from that pile he has
over there. We'll sharpen them and drive them
down as far as we can into the dirt, close together
in a circle, and then we'll saw them off about three
feet high and wire a roof of poles to the top of them;
but, before we do that we'll pave the cage with a lot
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span>
of big flat stones. I reckon if we do that we'll have
the bulge on these fellows, and they can't get away
from us."</p>
<p>The plan was adopted. A circle was traced
in the ground and the earth loosened all about
its borders. Then a lot of fence poles were cut
into four-feet lengths, sharpened at one end and
driven firmly into the ground, close together about
the circle. Next the boys brought flat stones from
the prairie and made a neat pavement on the ground
inside the cage. Other poles cut to a proper length
were laid across the top of the cage and firmly wired
down, all except the last two, which were left loose.
The box containing the wolf pups was now brought
up, the little fellows one by one were taken out of
their sacks, their lashings cut, and they were
dropped into the cage, and then the last two poles
were placed in position and fastened. Several heavy
sticks were laid across the roof to hold it down, so
that the roof poles should remain firm, even though
considerable force were exerted on them. They all
drew back when the work was done, and eyed it with
satisfaction, and for a time watched the four puppies
within, restlessly trotting about the cage and constantly
pushing their noses between the poles in the
endeavour to squeeze out. Everything seemed to be
firm, however, and they left the pups to their own
devices.</p>
<p>"Seems to me there's one thing we've forgotten,
Charley," said Hugh. "How are you going to feed
and water them puppies? I did forget all about
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span>
that, didn't I? You can stick food in anywhere between
the poles, but we'll have to take off part of
the roof again and put a dish in for them to drink
out of. When that is there it can be filled as often
as they need it, from the outside." By the time this
change had been made it was supper time, and all
hands went to the house.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XVI<br />
<span class="medium">BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>The next day Hugh and Jack set out to return
to the ranch. Before leaving, all hands went out
and took a look at the wolf puppies. They seemed
to be all right, but had evidently made some attempts
to gnaw their way out, but their young
teeth could not make much impression in the tough
spruce sticks which formed their cage.</p>
<p>"After they get a little bigger," said Hugh to
Charley, "unless they should grow tame, you will
either have to drive more poles into the ground
or else you'll have to kill the pups. They're so
big now that I think it's pretty doubtful whether
they ever get tame at all, and of course if they don't
get tame, the only thing to do is to kill them. I've
seen a heap of wolf and coyote puppies caught, but
they've got to be mighty young ever to lose their
wildness, and to get so that you can do anything
with them. We'll have to leave our pup here until
it gets a little older and we see whether they are
likely to get tame or not."</p>
<p>They bade good-bye to the Powell family, with
cordial thanks for all their kindness, and invitations
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span>
for them to come over to the ranch and visit them
for a few days.</p>
<p>Jack said to Charley, "After awhile, when the elks'
horns get big, and they get fat, come over with the
waggon and we'll go out and kill two or three, and
you can take back the meat with you. Hugh says we
only have to go two or three miles from the house
upon the mountain, to get all the elk we want."</p>
<p>On their way back they rode down the bluffs, not
far from where Jack had killed the lion, and here,
as they were going along, Jack suddenly saw, not
far in front of him, a queer, dark grey object, shaped
somewhat like a big tortoise, running along on the
prairie in front of him. In a moment he recognised
that it was a sage grouse, with wings partly extended
and body held low, and for a moment he did not
know what to make of the bird's action.</p>
<p>"Hold on, son," said Hugh, "there's where she
started from;" and he pointed to a low sage-bush
a little to one side. "Get off your horse and go and
look under that, and see what there is there."
Jack did so, and saw a hollow in the ground,
scantily lined with bits of grass, in which were thirteen
greyish eggs, not so large as an ordinary hen's
egg.</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh!" he called back, "There are thirteen
eggs; can't we take them along?" Hugh
rode up to the spot, leading Jack's horse, and looked
at the nest. "Well, now," he said, "seems to me
I would not bother with that nest; we've got a long
way to go yet, and the chances are we'd smash the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span>
eggs before we got home, and if we didn't do that,
they'd be pretty sure to get cold, and wouldn't
hatch. Let's leave that old hen alone, and some
day we'll hunt up a nest right close to home,
and get a setting of eggs there. 'Tain't no use to
take these eggs without they're going to do us some
good."</p>
<p>"Well, all right," said Jack, rather reluctantly, as
he turned away. "We've got a long way to go, but
do you suppose we'll be able to find another nest
near the ranch?"</p>
<p>"I expect we will," was the answer; "though of
course it isn't any sure thing; it's getting pretty late
to find eggs now; we won't have any trouble finding
young ones, though."</p>
<p>Jack mounted, and from the saddle looked about
to try to see the old hen, but she had disappeared;
so they went on.</p>
<p>The supper horn sounded that night just as they
were riding up the valley, toward the house, and before
they had unsaddled all hands were seated at
the table. Before the meal was ended, Jack had to
tell the story of his killing the lion, and of the
death of the wolf; and after supper he brought in
his roll of hides, and spread out both the lion and
the wolf skin on the floor, so that all might see them.
The men were loud in their congratulations, and Joe
declared that he would have given a horse to have
been in Jack's place. "You're in the biggest kind
of luck, Jack," he said. "I've been riding the range
right around here now for five years and I never
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span>
caught a glimpse of a lion yet. I've helped to rope
three bears, but of course that's no trick at all if
you know your horse. I roped a cow elk once, and
what's more, brought her into the ranch. I had
better luck that time than old Vicente, down below
here. He roped a bull elk, just on the edge of the
rocky ground. His horse was small and the elk
drug him a little way, and he got scared and turned
his rope loose, and the elk went off up the mountain,
dragging a twelve-dollar raw-hide rope behind
him. But I'd have liked almighty well to have
been along with you fellows, and had a chance to
have a shot at that lion. You were sure in great
luck."</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "I don't believe I'd have had a
chance myself if it hadn't been for Pawnee; he ran
just as hard as he could, and got away ahead of the
other horses, and so I had the luck to get the shot."</p>
<p>"Well," said Joe, "you made the most of your
chance, anyhow. Maybe it isn't every fellow that
would have shot as straight as you did, if he'd had
the chance to shoot at all."</p>
<p>Mr. Sturgis, too, had words of congratulation for
Jack; but later in the evening he cautioned him
not to let his excitement carry him into dangerous
places. "You see, Jack," he said, "just as Hugh
feels responsible to me for your safety, so I feel responsible
to your father and mother. You might live
out here for two or three years without ever getting
close to a lion, but you managed to do it after you'd
been here only a couple of months. The life here
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span>
is as safe as it is anywhere, but a man must use the
same precautions against danger that he would in
any other part of the world. He must use common
sense, and not expose himself to the risk of being
clawed by a lion, or run over by a team, or hurt by
a fighting cow. You've been lucky enough so far,
and have carried yourself well, but I want you to
use as much discretion as you can."</p>
<p>"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack, "I'll try to remember
what you and Hugh tell me. I confess
that when I was galloping after the lion, or again
after the wolf, I didn't think of a single thing except
trying to get as close to the animal as I could;
but when the lion jumped out of the tree at me, I
was a little frightened. I didn't have time to be
much frightened, because Pawnee jumped so quickly
and took me out of the beast's way."</p>
<p>"What do you think, Uncle Will, about the wolf
puppy that we left at Mr. Powell's," Jack went on.
"Will it ever get tame? I should like to own a
wolf that was as tame as a dog, and to take it back
to New York with me. Wouldn't it make people
stare! I don't believe half the people would believe
it was a wolf."</p>
<p>"You'd better ask that question of Hugh," said
his uncle; "he knows more about those things
than I. I have never seen a tame wolf, myself,
though I have heard of many of them; but I fancy
that pups that are caught as old as he seemed to be do
not ever really get tame. I do not believe that this
wolf puppy will ever be of any particular use to you.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span>
But if you are going to start the menagerie we
talked of before we came out here, it is time you
began. The antelope kids can be got now, and if I
were you I would try to get two or three. Then
there are some ducks' nests down by the lake that
you might rob, and bring the eggs up to be hatched
out at the house. There are two old hens out here
now, I believe, that want to set, and you might try
each of them with a lot of wild ducks' eggs. Rube
found the nests day before yesterday, and I think
would like to go down there and help you get them.
In the course of two or three days the horse roundup
will be here, and for a day or two we'll all be
busy cutting out horses and branding colts. After
that, Antonio is going to ride some wild horses, and
I suppose you want to be here for that; so you had
better get your ducks' eggs now, or the first thing
you know they'll be swimming in the lake and you'll
never get your hands on them."</p>
<p>"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack. "If Rube will
go with me, we'll start right after breakfast to-morrow
morning."</p>
<p>"Well," said his uncle, "you ask him to-morrow
morning at breakfast. He'll go with you if he can."</p>
<p>After breakfast next morning, Rube and Jack
went down to the lake, each carrying a small wooden
box, partly filled with hay. The ducks' nests were
easily found. One of them belonged to quite a
small bird, which flew off close to the ground as the
riders approached. They found that this nest
contained nine roundish eggs, about the colour of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span>
old ivory, that is yellowish white. The other nest,
which was not far off, belonged to a larger bird, and
in this there were eleven somewhat larger eggs.
All the eggs from the first nest were placed in one
box, and those from the second in another, and they
returned to the house, riding very slowly and carefully,
carrying the boxes in their hands, so that they
should not be jarred or shaken. In the hen-house
the two old hens were provided with good nests of
clean hay, each in a barrel, which was covered at
night so as to prevent anything from disturbing
them, and one setting of eggs was put under each
hen. Rube declared that he didn't feel quite safe
about those hens, they were so big and the eggs were
so small that he was afraid they would break them.
"And if they don't break them," he said, "they're
liable to step on the young ones when they hatch
out, and kill half of them. Still, I suppose we've
got to take that risk."</p>
<p>The morning had only half gone when the eggs
were disposed of, and Jack looked about to see what
else he could do. There was no one about the
house except Mrs. Carter, who was sewing, and
Rube, who had gone down to the stable and was
working there. Jack threw himself on the grass
just outside the house door, and lay there in the
warm sun. For a while he did nothing except to
think over the last few days, and remember what
fun he had had. He determined that before night
he would write a long letter to his father, telling
him that he would rather not go back and go to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span>
school and college, for he wanted to be a ranchman.</p>
<p>After a time he noticed some swallows circling
about over the grass near him. They were very
small and did not look like the swallows that he had
seen back east, most of which have breasts about
the colour of iron rust. These little fellows were
wonderfully quick, so much so that sometimes it
was hard for the eye to follow them. They made
wide circles out over the grass, or again flew so close
to the house that it seemed as if they must dash
themselves against the logs. Suddenly, one of them
flew squarely toward the house, but when he had
almost reached it, turned upward and alighted on
one of the roof poles, where he sat, twittering faintly,
and occasionally arranging his feathers. Sometimes
the little bird walked a few inches, turning himself
this way and that, and then Jack could see that his
back was almost the colour of a peacock's tail, shining
green in some places, and shining purple in others.
He felt sure that he could describe this bird well
enough so that his uncle could tell him what it was.
All at once, to his surprise, the swallow walked
into a hole between two of the roof poles, and was
not seen again, but a moment afterward another
little bird, just like the first, except that its back
was dull brown, walked out of the hole and flew
away over the valley.</p>
<p>Jack did not know very much about birds, but he
decided that this last one was the female, and that
these two little swallows had a nest somewhere in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span>
the roof. He determined too that he would watch
them and see what they did every day, for they
were so pretty and so quick and graceful that it was
fun to look at them. About noon he saw his uncle
and Hugh ride up to the barn and unsaddle, and
before long he was asking about the swallows.</p>
<p>"Why yes," said his uncle, "those birds build
there every year. They are a pair of violet green
swallows; there are lots of them here in the mountains,
and they build in little holes in the dead trees,
or in the rocks; but these two have a nest somewhere
up in the roof, every summer. I think it was
last year that the young ones, when they were about
full-grown, flew out of the nest and fell into the
muslin that forms the ceiling of the sitting-room.
They scrambled around there for nearly a whole
day, and made so much noise that finally we cut a
hole in the muslin and got them out. They were
about as big as the old ones, and full feathered, and
the next morning we took them out and put them
on the roof, and the old ones at once fed them and
began to teach them to fly. If you want to find
out what birds there are about here, you had better
take my bird book down from the shelf and study it
a little each day. I can help you, for I know the
names of most of the common birds." Saying this,
his uncle went into the house.</p>
<p>"How are the calves, Hugh?" said Jack. "Have
the coyotes been bothering them at all?"</p>
<p>"Not a bit," said Hugh; "they are all right, and
big and strong. I expect in the course of a month
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span>
now your uncle will be bringing them over to the corrals
to brand, but we won't do that until after we've
got through with the horses. The roundup ought to
be along here most any time now, and when it gets
here you'll see quite a lot of fun when we get to
working them."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XVII<br />
<span class="medium">HUNTING ON THE MOUNTAIN</span></h2>
</div>
<p>For several days the people at the ranch kept
looking for the arrival of the horse roundup, but
it did not come. One morning at breakfast Mr.
Sturgis said to Hugh, "Well, Hugh, instead of sitting
about here any longer, you might go up to-day
on to the mountain and look around to find some
good strong corral poles and posts. Some of the
poles in the big corral are getting pretty weak, and
as soon as the roundup has passed, we may as well
make that corral over. Try to find poles that are
easy got out, and of course as near home as you
can; and if you get a chance, you might kill a heifer
or a young bull, if you should see one."</p>
<p>"All right," said Hugh. "I'll be glad to take a
little ride; I'm getting tired of sitting round waiting
for them horses. Son," he continued, speaking
to Jack, "do you want to go along?"</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, Hugh, I'd like to first-class," was
the reply.</p>
<p>After breakfast they started, and began to climb
the mountain behind the house, following a steep
trail which led up the side of a deep, narrow valley,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span>
down which a large brook flowed. Jack had never
ridden in this direction before, but he had often
wondered what there was on top of the mountain,
and he was glad to have a chance to go there.
Pawnee followed close after old Baldy up the narrow
trail, and not much was said by the riders, but Jack's
eyes were busy looking at the rough mountain side
and at the precipices of red rock that overhung the
way. After some time they crossed a narrow side
valley, where there was a little grass and underbrush
and a few tall pines. As they were riding through
this, Jack suddenly saw quite a large bird running
along before them. It seemed to be hurt; its wings
were trailing on the ground, it ran half crouched
down, and every now and then it would fall over on
its side, and then recover itself and struggle along
a little further.</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh!" he called out, "see that bird!
Wait a minute, I want to catch it."</p>
<p>Hugh stopped his horse, and Jack, jumping down,
ran after the bird and almost put his hand on it. It
just managed to struggle out of his fingers and ran
along before him, tottering as if it were very feeble.
He followed it for twenty or thirty yards further,
not quite catching it, when suddenly, with a great
whirr of wings, it rose from the ground and flew off
up the mountain side. Jack stopped and watched it
with open mouth, and then turned to go back to
his horse. When he reached it Hugh said to him
with a smile:</p>
<p>"Where's your bird?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span>
"That's the most mysterious thing I ever saw,"
said Jack. "I almost had that bird three or four
times, and suddenly it flew off as if nothing was the
matter with it."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "didn't you ever see that
before? That's an old blue grouse, and her young
ones are scattered around on the ground right where
we're standing. She just pretended she was hurt to
lead you away from them, and as soon as we are
gone she will come back to them. You'd better
look out where you put your foot down, or you
might step on one. They're here right close, and
yet we might look for half a day and not be able to
find one of them."</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "that's curious. I think I
have heard my uncle tell about birds doing that
sort of thing, but I never saw it until to-day. That
was a pretty big bird, but not as big as a sage hen,
is it?"</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "they're quite a little bit
smaller than a sage hen, and still they're lots bigger
than a pheasant, and they're awful good eating,
too."</p>
<p>Jack mounted and they rode on up the trail.</p>
<p>After quite a long scramble up the steep mountain
trail they came to a rolling, grassy plateau, interrupted
here and there by clumps of pines, and
occasionally by great knobs of red granite rock.
They rode for several miles over this upland without
seeing anything that was interesting, until, as
they were approaching one of these tall knobs
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span>
of rock, they heard a loud piercing whistle come
from it.</p>
<p>Hugh stopped his horse, and when Jack rode up
beside him, said:</p>
<p>"Now, let's watch them rocks for a little while,
and see whether we can see that fellow."</p>
<p>"What fellow do you mean, Hugh," said Jack;
"the thing that made that noise?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "that's what some folks call a
mountain marmot, but I call it a woodchuck, because
it looks just like the woodchucks I used to
see when I was a boy down in Kentucky, only it's
considerable bigger, and it's got a kind of a yellow
belly. It can make more noise for its size than
most any beast I know of."</p>
<p>They sat there for a few moments and watched
the rock about which the hot air was dancing, when
suddenly Hugh said, "I believe I see him; I
think he just stuck his head out of that crack in
the rock. Do you see there, near the top? Follow
that crack along with your eye and you'll notice a
little grey knob that was not there a minute ago."</p>
<p>"Oh, I see it," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "now watch that and see if
it don't move."</p>
<p>After a few seconds the knob moved, and, in a
minute an animal came out of the crevice in the
rock and sat up.</p>
<p>"That would be a good shot," said Hugh, "if we
had not come up here to try to hunt; but your
uncle wants us to try to kill him some meat, if we
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span>
can; so we won't shoot at woodchuck. Let's ride
on and when we get a little nearer to him he'll give
one them whistles of his and then dodge into that
crack in the rock."</p>
<p>It happened just as Hugh had said, and soon after
they began to move forward, the animal gave
another shrill whistle and again disappeared from
view.</p>
<p>"There's quite a piece of burnt timber about a
half mile off here to the north; let's go over and
look at that, and see if we can get the fence-poles
that we need; then we'll leave our horses and go
afoot a little way, to see if we can see any elk."</p>
<p>They rode over to the timber which had been
killed by fire some years before. Hugh spent some
little time looking at it, but at length rode out into
an open park, unsaddled his horse and tied its rope to
a little tree, Jack doing the same. They took their
rifles and started off along the edge of the timber
on foot.</p>
<p>"I see some elk sign in this timber, and some of
it is right fresh, but if you see any elk before I do,
don't shoot. I don't want to kill any old cows now,
because their calves are right young and they'd be
liable to starve to death. If we can find a heifer
we'll kill one; she'll be in a pretty good order, and
just what they want at the ranch." They had not
gone far before Jack noticed in the dirt some tracks,
and just as he was about to speak of them, Hugh
stopped and said:</p>
<p>"Now, son, I want you to look at these tracks:
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span>
you see they look considerable like cattle tracks,
but they ain't, they're elk. Now, look at this track
here," he said, pointing to one of the largest, "that
looks a good deal like the track of a two-year-old
critter, but just see how long it steps; that will
show you that it's an elk; the sign shows that it's a
bull, but a young one. These other tracks you see
here, they're cows and heifers and a yearling or two.
Now, you see, these tracks are fresh; just notice
how the dirt in each one seems kind of shining and
polished. A big heavy animal putting its hoof
down hard on the dirt makes the place where its
weight rested look like that. Now, this track that
I told you was a bull's, looks different; you can see
that for yourself; it isn't polished but it looks kind
of dull. The reason for that is that the wind has
blown the dust about in the hoof mark and has
partly covered it up. On dry ground like this an
old track can always be told by that. Now, over
there," he continued, pointing, "are some tracks
made in the spring, when the ground was wet. Of
course, you see that they sink in deep, as any tracks
would that were made in the mud. It ain't much
use for me to tell you about these things, except to
make you notice quicker what the difference is in
the different tracks you see. A man's got to study
tracks a heap before ever he can become a good
trailer. There isn't anything but experience that'll
teach you what a track means, but often they tell a
pretty plain story to a man who knows how to read
them. It's wonderful to me to go out up in the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span>
mountains when there's a fresh snow on the ground.
You can see just what all the birds and animals
have been doing since the snow fell; and often from
the tracks you see you can tell just what they were
thinking about."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, Hugh," said Jack, "Uncle Will has
talked to me about that, and he told me, too, that
you were the best trailer he'd ever seen. I want to
keep my eyes open and try to learn from you as
much as I can."</p>
<p>"Well," replied Hugh, "I have been learning for
a good many years, and you can't expect to pick it
all up in a few months. I'm mighty glad though to
tell you all I know."</p>
<p>From here they went on, and soon, turning to the
right, followed a narrow game trail which led along
the top of a deep ravine, down which flowed a brook
that they could hear splashing and bubbling among
the rocks. They had not gone very far when a
stick cracked down below them by the brook, and
Hugh stopped and stood listening. He slipped a
cartridge into his gun, and Jack imitated him, and
then both crouched in the trail and listened. A
moment later something was heard climbing the
bank toward them, and Hugh, turning to Jack,
whispered, "It's a bear. Get ready." Jack cocked
his gun and looked with all his eyes, and presently,
not twenty yards below, he saw a brown animal step
out of the bushes. "Shoot," said Hugh; and Jack,
aiming at the point of the bear's shoulder, fired.
The animal dropped and rolled out of sight among
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span>
the bushes; but in a moment he re-appeared, galloping
toward them. "Shoot," said Hugh again, and
Jack threw the rifle to his shoulder and fired, but
the bear kept on. "Shoot again," said Hugh;
"carefully, this time." And again Jack aimed at
the bear, now not ten yards from them, and fired.
This time the animal doubled up and rolled down
the hill again, but before it reached the fringe of
bushes its motion stopped and it lay stretched out
in the sunlight.</p>
<p>"Good boy," said Hugh, "I believe you missed
him with your second shot, but the third one was all
right. Did you feel like running?"</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "I don't believe I did. I was
too busy shoving cartridges into my rifle, and trying
to hit the right spot, to think about anything else.
But was he charging us, Hugh?"</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "I don't expect he was. You
see, he hadn't no idea that we were 'round until
your first shot hit him, and he didn't know where
that came from, and was just trying to get away.
He happened to run in our direction, that was all.
I don't think he wanted to be mean. Well, you've
killed your first bear, son, and you're surely getting
to be a real old hunter. You take to it in the right
way, and I'm right glad you do. If you and me
could travel together for a year or two, I'd guarantee
to make a hunter of you. Well now, let's go down
and skin that little fellow."</p>
<p>They found the bear quite dead and with only
two bullet holes in his hide. The first one showed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span>
that Jack's first shot had been a bad one; he had
fired at the point of the bear's shoulder, but had hit it
in the top of the head, just grazing the skull. There
was nothing to show where the second shot had gone,
but the third one had pierced his chest and had gone
lengthwise through his body.</p>
<p>"There," said Hugh, "you see what I told you;
that first shot gave him a rap on the head and sort
o' stunned and dazed him, and I don't believe he
knew which way he was running. I suppose you'd
like to take off his hide, because he's the first bear
you've ever killed, but it ain't in very good order.
You see, he's partly shed off, and what's left of his
old winter coat is all sunburned. Still, we may as
well skin him. You can use the hide for a while,
and then, if you like you can cut off his front paws,
just to keep the long claws. You see, he's a little
fellow, just about the size of the one your uncle
killed that day we came out from town."</p>
<p>Jack helped to skin the bear, and found that it
was hard, slow work.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, to whom he spoke of this,
"skinning a bear is some like skinning a beaver;
you can't strip the hide at all, you've got to cut
every inch."</p>
<p>After the hide had been removed they carried it
up to the trail and made a bundle of it, and then,
going down to the brook, washed the blood from
their hands, and Hugh sat down and smoked. As
they sat there Jack noticed two or three birds fly
down toward where the bear lay, and then two or
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span>
three more. He asked Hugh what these were, but
Hugh had not seen them. He proposed that they
should go up to the trail where the bear-skin lay,
and from which they could see the carcass and the
birds that visited it. They climbed the bank and
were hardly seated on the trail when a small grey
bird pitched down out of a pine tree on to the carcass,
and began to peck at the meat. It was at once
followed by two or three others.</p>
<p>"Now, those birds," said Hugh, "are what I call
meat hawks; some calls them camp robbers. I
expect they're a kind of a winter bird, anyhow
there's lots of them 'round in winter; they're the
tamest creatures you ever see. I've seen it sometimes
when I was skinning a deer, hung up, that
they'd 'light on the legs of the deer and peck at the
meat, and sometimes they'd flutter right down to
the ground at my feet and eat the scraps that fell
from my knife. They're dreadful easy caught, too,
if anybody was to take the trouble, and when you
catch 'em they don't seem a mite scared, but just
peck and fight and claw you as if they were as big
as you are. There, that one," he continued, as a
large dark brown bird with a beautiful long crest
flew down to the carcass, "is a kind of a blue jay, I
reckon. Anyway, he looks some like the blue jays
I used to see back in the States when I was a boy,
except that he's kind of brownish blue instead of
being light blue. Those camp robbers are afraid of
him, and they leave until he gets through, but if a
magpie comes along, then the blue jay leaves, and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span>
of course if a raven or an eagle comes, the magpie
has to do the waiting." Just as he spoke, a queer,
chippering noise was heard in one of the pines, and
two beautiful magpies, with glossy black heads and
tails and white under parts, came to the ground, and
after hopping gracefully about for a moment or two,
began to feed on the carcass.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "we might stop here all day,
watching these birds, but we'd better be moving.
We'll go back to the horses another way, and, as
I've got to pack this bear hide, you'll have to kill
an elk, if we see any."</p>
<p>Their way back was through beautiful green timber,
free from underbrush, the ground being covered
with a soft black mould of decaying pine needles.
They had been walking briskly for some little time,
and Jack thought they must be getting near the
horses, when suddenly Hugh stopped and said;
"Son, look around you and see whether you see
anything."</p>
<p>Jack thought there must be something special to
see, and looked carefully about. He could see only
the green pines, their grey trunks, and the black
earth, sometimes brightened by shafts of sunlight
which came through openings in the green canopy
above them. After a minute he said, "No, Hugh,
I don't see anything."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "there's something to see,
and I expect it's something that you never saw
before. Let's go on a little way."</p>
<p>He stepped forward, turning a little to his right,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span>
and walked up to the foot of a large tree, where
Jack had noticed a patch of sunlight; but when
they got to the foot of the tree, to his astonishment
and delight, the boy saw lying there a little bright
red, white spotted animal, which he knew must be
a calf elk. It looked a good deal like a very young
fawn, but was three or four times as large. Jack
was on his knees beside it in a moment, patting it
and smoothing its skin, and declaring it was the
prettiest thing he had ever seen. It lay there absolutely
without motion, and as he lifted its legs one
by one, and let them go again, they dropped back
limp as if the animal were dead.</p>
<p>"Well, son, I don't know what we're going to do
with this calf," said Hugh; "it's most too big for
you to carry, and I can't pack both the calf and the
bear hide. Do you want to take it with you or to
leave it here?"</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh," said Jack, "let's take it along; I
think I can carry it, and we can't be very far from
the horses now."</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "we ain't. I guess we'll manage
to pack it to them, then it will be easy to get it
down the hill. Do you think you could carry it?
Take it right across your shoulders, holding the
fore legs in one hand and the hind legs in the other.
I'll lift it up for you, but I reckon it's too heavy for
you to pack far."</p>
<p>Jack took the calf on his back, but, as Hugh had
said, it was pretty heavy, and before long he had to
put it down. Hugh left him there, watching the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span>
calf and the bear-skin, went on to where the horses
were and brought them back. From behind his
saddle he took a gunny sack, in which he put the
calf, cutting a hole in the side through which its
head protruded, and then tying the sack in front of
Jack's saddle, and putting the bear-skin behind his
own, they started for the house. When they came
out on the trail where they could overlook the valley,
they saw near the ranch a great herd of animals,
and Hugh said, "Well, there's the horse roundup
at last. Now we'll have plenty of work for the next
few days, cutting out these horses and branding our
own colts."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XVIII<br />
<span class="medium">WITH THE HORSE ROUNDUP</span></h2>
</div>
<p>When Hugh and Jack reached the house, after
putting the young elk in a calf-pen in the stable,
they found a number of strangers there, and all the
corrals seemed to be overflowing with horses. In
one some men were still working, but when the supper
horn sounded all hands came to the house.</p>
<p>The supper table that night was longer than it had
been since Jack had been at the ranch. There were
nine strange cowboys there, all of whom, however,
seemed to be well acquainted with Mr. Sturgis and
Hugh and Rube and Joe. Still, they were not very
talkative at supper, but after it was over and they
were sitting about outside the house, smoking, many
stories were told of the daily happenings of the last
two or three weeks while they had been gathering
the horses. Jack would have enjoyed sitting about
to listen to this talk, but when Hugh suggested that
they should go down to the corrals and walk through
the horses, he readily accompanied him. In the
first pen that they entered the horses stood crowded
so close together that it looked at first as if they
could not push their way through them, but as they
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span>
went on, the animals crowded to one side and made
a narrow lane through which they could walk. Two
months before, when Jack had first come to the
ranch, it would have made him nervous to be so close
to the heads and heels of these wild horses, but now
he scarcely thought of it. Hugh looked the horses
over and talked about them with the enthusiasm of
a real horseman. He pointed out the beauties of
this one and that, and called attention to one colt
after another, telling which mare was its mother,
and having some little story about each one.</p>
<p>One of the corrals seemed to be occupied chiefly
by mares and colts, with some young horses, and of
these a number of the mares seemed to recognise
Hugh, and pushed their way up to him, reaching
out their noses to be patted, and sometimes thrusting
their heads over his shoulder. He explained to
Jack that these were old horses that had been long
on the place, and were accustomed to being brought
up and held in the corral, where they were gentled
and petted a little, and that they seemed not to forget
this, and were always willing to make friends
whenever they were brought up. He said, too, that
their foals and yearlings and two and three-year
olds, which often all followed the mother, themselves
grew gentle and liked to be noticed by the
men, and that, of course, animals that were tame
were much more easily handled and broken to saddle
or to harness than the wild colts that had been
running on the range all their lives.</p>
<p>Two or three of the yearlings in this corral were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span>
cripples, with twisted, misshapen limbs, and Jack
asked Hugh whether these would ever recover, and
if not, what they were good for.</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "they won't never get well,
and they ain't worth nothing. It's a shame to use
colts so that they break down like that. That
comes of running a little young colt hard for twenty-five
or thirty miles on the roundup. Of course
these little fellows after they get some strength can
travel pretty nearly as well as an old horse, but if
you run them too far or too fast in bringing in the
horses, their soft, gristly little bones get bent and
twisted, and they don't ever get straight again.
There's a heap of good foals ruined every year, just
because a lot of fool cow punchers want to get a
bunch of horses into the corral in an hour and a
half, when by rights they ought to take three hours
to do it in. All them crippled yearlings ought to be
killed, they're no good now, and they'll never be
any better than they are. They just eat the grass
that might support a good horse."</p>
<p>After an hour or two in the corrals, as it began to
grow dark, Hugh and Jack went back toward the
house. On the way Jack stopped in at the hen-house
to look at his setting hens and put the covers
on the barrels in which their nests were. As he was
doing this he heard from beneath one of the hens
a faint, peeping sound, and lifting up one wing he
saw beneath it the tiniest little duckling that he had
ever seen. It was too dark to see much, and he had
to leave the hen-house without finding how many
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span>
of his eggs had hatched, but he made up his mind
that the next morning, no matter what happened,
he must prepare a coop for this brood of ducks.
When they reached the house they found that a
number of the tired cowboys were already rolled
up in their blankets, and sleeping. There were four
in the bunk-house, three on the floor of the dining-room,
and the others were just taking their blankets
over to the barn, to sleep in the soft, sweet-smelling
hay. Hugh said to Jack, "You'd better turn in,
too, son; to-morrow will begin pretty early in the
morning, and you won't have any too much time to
sleep if you go to bed now."</p>
<p>It was not yet light next morning when Jack
heard the bustle which announced that all hands
were astir, and he at once got up and dressed, to
find himself only just in time for breakfast. It was
plain daylight by the time the meal was over, and
most of the men at once went down to the corrals.
Jack hurried down to the hen-house, but, on looking
at his ducks' eggs, found that only a part of one
setting had hatched, and putting a little food near
the hen's nest, he left them, determining to postpone
the building of his coop until the following
day. He went on down to the corral and found
that the men were busy turning out the horses on to
the prairie, where they were to be herded by two
riders. Some of the men had brought wood to the
big round corral, and just outside it, and close to
the fence, some were kindling fires, while others
were chopping poles and logs into wood small
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span>
enough to be used on these fires. A great lot of
iron bars, four or five feet long, stood against the
corral fence, and on looking closely at these, Jack
saw that each had a handle on one end and an iron
letter on the other. These, he supposed, must be
the branding irons, and these fires were for heating
them.</p>
<p>After a time most of the horses had been turned
out, but a large number, almost all of them old
mares, with their colts, had been cut out and
confined in a series of pens that were connected by
a gate with the round corral, outside which the
fires were burning. By the time these were going
well, and the various branding irons had been put in
them to heat, three or four of the men drove into
the big corral a bunch of thirty or forty mares,
whose little colts stayed close by their sides. Many
of these mares seemed quite wild, and all raced
around the walls of the pen, as if very much
frightened. It seemed to Jack as if these little
colts, some of which hardly looked bigger than jack
rabbits, must all be killed by being stepped on. Yet
each colt kept close to its own mother's side, and a
little bit under her, so that it was well protected
from being harmed by any other mare that crowded
close upon it.</p>
<p>Two or three men with ropes now entered the
corral and, as the horses ran about them, each one
threw his rope over a colt, and as soon as the rope
caught a colt's neck, a couple of men quickly dragged
it out into the middle of the corral, and taking hold
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span>
of it, threw it down, holding it so that it should not
injure itself in its struggles; then one of the men
ran to the fence and called for a particular iron,
bearing the brand which showed on the mother of
the colt. When this was given him he ran back to
where the colt lay and carefully pressed it on its
shoulder or neck or hip, and held it there. The
hair and skin hissed under the hot iron, a little
smoke arose, the colt tried to struggle, and then,
after the brand had been properly placed, it was
allowed to spring to its feet and to run back
to the bunch. Meantime, its mother had been
whinnying, calling, and sometimes running out from
the circle of the horses, almost up to the men who
were holding down her colt. When it was freed
and ran back to her, she nosed it all over and then
contentedly took her place with the other old
mares.</p>
<p>The work of branding went on rapidly. Now and
then some man would catch a colt with too large a
loop, the little animal's head and forequarters would
pass through it and it would be caught around the
body. When held in this way it was of course
much harder to handle than when caught by the
neck, and before the men got their hands on it, it
would go through a series of extraordinary antics,
rearing, plunging, bucking and dancing; but at last
it would be caught, thrown down and treated like
the others. A man who caught a colt in this
fashion was much laughed at by the other cowboys
and advised to take lessons in roping. As soon as
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span>
all the colts in the corral had been branded, the
horses there were turned out and a fresh lot of
mares and colts brought in. All through the
morning this went on. Jack, though at first he sat
on the top rail of the corral and watched, was soon
called down from his lofty perch and set to work.
For some time he passed the hot irons in to the
men who were doing the branding, then he was sent
to get more wood, and afterwards for a bucket of
water. The cowboys were all good-natured and
very friendly with him, and chaffed him as he ran
here and there, trying to carry out their orders.</p>
<p>After dinner the work continued, and one thing
happened that made Jack feel badly. A little colt,
frightened at something, had run a few steps in
front of its mother, as all the horses were racing
about the pen, and just as the rope caught its neck,
it stopped. The mother, lumbering along behind
it, tripped over the tightened rope and fell on the
colt, and when it got up one of its fore-legs swung
loose.</p>
<p>"There's a dead colt," said one of the men, and
in a minute they caught it and threw it down.</p>
<p>Then one of the older men took the hurt leg and
moved it backward and forward, while he held his
ear close to the animal's shoulder.</p>
<p>"Yes," he said, "its shoulder is smashed, I can
hear the bones grate. Hand me that hatchet,
Jim."</p>
<p>The hatchet was passed to him, and he struck the
little colt twice with it in the head, and two of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span>
men carried the carcass to the fence and passed it
through. Jack did not understand this, which had
happened so quickly, and asked Hugh, who happened
to be standing near him, why they killed the
colt.</p>
<p>"Why," said Hugh, "when the mare fell on it
she broke its shoulder, and it couldn't never have
got well, in fact, it couldn't even have followed its
mother around, it would just have had to suffer for
a few days and then die; so of course it was better
to kill it now."</p>
<p>"What a pity!" said Jack, as he looked at the
pretty little animal lying at his feet, whose eyes
were already glazing. "Wasn't there any way to
have cured it?"</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "I expect not, and it would
have cost more to try to cure it than it could ever
have been worth; I expect it was better to kill it
off right now."</p>
<p>When supper time had come that night, all the
colts had been branded, and orders were given that
after Mr. Sturgis's horses had been cut out of the
bunch, next morning, the roundup should move on.</p>
<p>After supper that night, Jack sat down near three
or four of the cowboys who were smoking their
pipes and cigarettes by the corner of the house, and
listened to their talk. One of them seemed to be
telling a story.</p>
<p>"I tell you," he said, "it was about the funniest
thing I ever saw. You see, we'd run the bear may
be a mile and a half, and two or three of us had put
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span>
our ropes on him, but he always managed to slip
out. It was a pretty hot day, and his tongue was
hangin' out about a yard, and toward the end he
was pretty mad, and when we got close, he'd turn
round and charge back on us. One time when he
did this he passed pretty close to Mat, who was on
a slow horse, and Mat managed to catch him by the
hind leg, and the rope stayed; but when Mat tried
to hold him, the bear turned round and charged,
and Mat got kind o' scared, and just turned the rope
loose from his saddle and ran, and the bear went on.
Well, pretty quick, we came to a little pile of
rocks, with three or four cedars growing around
them, and the bear stopped at these rocks and
wouldn't run no further. We run up pretty close
to him and tried to rope him, but he was sort o' half
under the rocks and we couldn't catch him. He
had Mat's rope on his hind leg yet, and it was lying
out on the prairie, and we commenced to make fun
of Mat, and to tell him to ride in there and pick up
his rope and drag the bear out, but of course we
didn't expect he'd try to do no such fool thing as
that, but we kept on making fun of him, and the
first thing we knew he started to ride by the bear
and pick up his rope. When he got right close, just
as he was goin' to stoop for the rope, there comes
the bear sailing out after him, and lookin' mighty
savage, I tell ye. He turned his old horse and run,
and the bear run, and when he looked around and
saw the bear not very far off, he rode his horse
under one of them cedar trees, and just reached up
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span>
and caught hold of a branch and curled up over it,
and his horse ran on, and he went climbing on toward
the top of the tree. We just set there on our
horses and laughed at Mat, so long and so hard that
the bear ran on and went plumb out of the country,
carrying Mat's rope, and we never see him again."</p>
<p>Soon after the sun rose next morning Mr. Sturgis's
horses were being cut out of the bunch and turned
into one of the big corrals, and by ten o'clock the
horse roundup had started on its way again, and all
the strangers with it.</p>
<p>That afternoon Hugh and Jack busied themselves
making a pen for the little ducks, all of which had
now hatched out. Each of the old hens was put in
a coop, which stood at opposite corners of the pen,
and boards standing on their sides made a fence and
prevented the newly hatched birds from wandering
away, yet gave them a little space of grass, over
which they could walk and feed. Jack had never
seen such little bits of ducklings as some of these
were, and Hugh told him that he thought they
must be teal. After the pen was finished he spent
some little time catching small grasshoppers, which
he threw to the birds, and it was comical to see the
excitement which they showed and the way in which
they fought over this food.</p>
<p>They also gave a lesson to the little calf elk. Up
to this time it had paid no attention to them, but
had wandered about its pen with slow steps, constantly
looking for a place to get out. Now, however,
when Jack reached his hand over to pat it, it
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span>
caught the sleeve of his shirt in its mouth and
chewed it a little, and when he put his hand near to
its nose, it tried to take the whole hand into its
mouth.</p>
<p>"Oh," said Hugh, "that fellow's getting hungry;
he's about ready to drink now. Put your fingers in
his mouth and I'll go and get some milk and we'll
teach him how to drink."</p>
<p>Hugh went up to the house, and soon returned
with a small pail, holding about a pint of warm
milk. "Now," he said to Jack, "get inside the pen
and hold the can in your left hand, and then lower
the hand he's sucking until it's in the milk, so that
he'll draw some milk into his mouth when he sucks."
Jack did so, and as soon as the calf began to taste
the milk it showed quite a little excitement, shaking
its body and pushing with its head against the can,
and pretty soon it pushed so hard that it almost
knocked the can out of Jack's hand, and spilt most
of the milk. He kept up the work until the calf had
drunk all the milk in the pail, but it was not nearly
satisfied, and bawled after Jack as he went out of
the barn.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "we must give it another
drink before supper, and then another just before
dark. Just as soon as we can learn it to drink it
will be perfectly tame, and you can turn it out to
wander around the house. You'll have to watch it,
though, for if it goes off a little way from the house
the coyotes are liable to catch it. Fact is, I think
we'd better make a little corral for it, out in the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span>
brush, and leave it out there days where it can get
plenty of sunlight and learn how to pick grass a
little, and then shut it up here every night where
it will be safe. It will be tame though, from now
on."</p>
<p>As they were going up to the house, Hugh said,
"Well, I expect you'll be ready to see Tony go at
the broncs to-morrow morning. I heard your uncle
say we'd start in the first thing in the morning."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, Hugh," said Jack, "that's something
I want very much to see, and I expect to have
a lot of fun. Do you suppose any of those wild
horses will throw Tony?"</p>
<p>"It's hard to say," replied Hugh; "he's an awful
good rider, and I don't expect he gets thrown very
often, but every man that follows bronco busting is
liable to get thrown and killed every time he gets on
a wild horse. I've ridden plenty of wild horses in
my time, but I don't ride no more. It's boy's work,
that's what it is."</p>
<p>"I am going up to take another look at the little
ducks, Hugh," said Jack; and he went on toward
the pen. In a minute Hugh heard his name called
loudly, and went on up toward the duck pen.</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh," said Jack, as he drew near, "something's
killed three of those littlest ducks already,
and here is blood on the top of one of the coops.
What can it be?"</p>
<p>Hugh looked about and apparently saw no sign,
but in a moment he lifted his finger to call Jack's
attention, and stood listening. Jack heard faintly
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span>
a bird's call, which sounded familiar, but at first he
could not think where he had heard it.</p>
<p>"That's what it is," said Hugh; "them durned
magpies have found these ducks, and now they'll
kill them all, unless we kill them. You stop here a
minute or two while I go to the house and get your
uncle's shot-gun and your rifle, and we'll see if we
can't ambush them fellows."</p>
<p>Jack felt very badly as he stood there waiting;
three of these dear little ducks had gone in an hour;
at this rate they would not last very long. Presently
Hugh came back with the gun, and, giving
Jack his rifle, he loaded the shot gun, and they sat
down in the bushes not far from the pen.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "them magpies will be back
pretty quick, and we'll have to lie here right quiet.
If you get a chance at one sitting on a branch, kill
him, and I'll try to take any others that may be
there, as they fly away. There may be only one or
two of them, and if we kill them and hang them up
around the pen, that'll likely scare off any other,
that may come."</p>
<p>They had not been waiting more than a few
moments before they heard the magpies calling not
far off, and presently one, almost at once followed
by two others, appeared in the branches of one of
the aspens close to the ducks' pen. They peered
down at it curiously, and Jack, seizing a moment
when one of them stood still, fired, and the
bird dropped. The other two rose in the air, but
Hugh, standing up, shot first one and then the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span>
other, and both fell into the bushes. Hugh got
three long sticks and, sharpening an end of each,
stuck them in the ground about the pen, and to
each one tied one of the dead magpies, which swung
to and fro in the breeze, and would be likely to act
as scarecrows to any others that might come.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XIX<br />
<span class="medium">BUSTING BRONCOS</span></h2>
</div>
<p>After breakfast next morning, Jack hurried down
to the corrals and climbed up on the fence, whence
he could see all that was going on. Crowded in one
corner of the large corral stood the horses, most of
them with heads down and dull and sleepy looks.
Rube and Joe were in the stables, saddling the
ponies that they were to ride, and as Mr. Sturgis
and Hugh came down from the house, the two boys
led their horses up near the gate of the smaller round
corral and tied them to the fence. Soon all the
men entered the round corral, the gate between that
and the large corral was opened and two of the men
went toward one end of the bunch of horses. A
wild bay colt started to run away from them, and
the other horses tried to follow it, but Rube ran
forward, headed them off and turned them back, so
that all except the bay remained huddled in the
corner. This one trotted swiftly along close to the
corral fence until he reached the open gate leading
into the smaller corral. He turned into that and
the men ran forward, passed through and shut the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span>
gate. The bay horse trotted swiftly several times
about the corral and made a pretty picture. He
held his head high and his ears forward; his neck
was arched, his coat shone in the sun and his long
black tail was spread out behind him, and almost
swept the ground. He was a real beauty. Suddenly
Joe stepped forward with a rope in his hand
and swung the loop about his head, and as he did
so the horse, frightened, broke into a gallop. In a
moment the loop of the rope flew out, not toward
the horse's head, as Jack had expected, but toward the
ground in front of it. Joe's hand was thrown up in
the air and in a moment the young horse was standing
on his hind legs pawing the air with fore feet,
which were held together by the rope, while Joe,
and in a moment Hugh and Rube, were pulling
back on it with all their might. It had all happened
so quickly that Jack did not at all understand how
it had been done.</p>
<p>If the young horse had been frightened before, he
was terrified now. In vain he strove to free himself
from this rope which was gripping his fore feet
and holding them tightly together. He reared
again and again on his hind legs, walking on them
and striking with his forefeet; then he came down
on all fours and tried to run, but still he was held
fast. For a moment or two he flew about with his
head toward the men, but at length he turned his
side toward them, and as they pulled on the rope,
he lost his balance and fell heavily on the soft dust
which covered the ground. The men kept the rope
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span>
taut, and Rube, letting go, ran swiftly to the animal's
head and sat on it. The others ran around
to the horse's feet, pulled back the front ones, cast
a loop of the rope around the hind ones and drew
them forward, and in a moment all four feet were
tied together, and the men, breathing a little quickly
from the exertion, stood back and looked at him.</p>
<p>"He's a nice one," said Hugh.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Rube, "he's a good 'un. He'll make
you hunt timber, Tony, you bet."</p>
<p>"Maybe;" said Antonio, who had just come from
the stable carrying on one arm his saddle, blanket,
hackamore and quirt. He wore his spurs and about
each thigh was tied a buckskin wrapper which enveloped
the whole leg above the knee. The horse,
after some ineffectual struggles, lay still, breathing
heavily, and with the sweat starting from his skin.</p>
<p>Jack had by this time jumped down from the
fence and approached the group of men.</p>
<p>"Keep behind him, son, and near his head; then
he can't kick you, even if he does get his feet free,"
said Hugh.</p>
<p>"Why does Rube sit on his head, Hugh?" asked
Jack.</p>
<p>"So's to keep him from getting up," was the reply.
"Don't you know that if a horse is lying on his
side, he can't get up unless he raises his head first.
So when you throw a horse, if you don't want him
to get up, just sit on his head."</p>
<p>While they were talking, Joe had spread the hackamore,
and in a moment the horse's head had been
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span>
lifted from the ground and the hackamore slipped
over it. Then the blind—a strip of black leather—was
tied to the cheek pieces of the hackamore on
each side, completely covering the horse's eyes.</p>
<p>"Turn him loose now, boys, and let him get up,"
said Mr. Sturgis, "and we'll see if we can get him
out of the gate."</p>
<p>The rope was quickly cast off the feet, and another
put around the neck, and the horse, as soon as he
felt that he was free, stood up, but as the blind
entirely covered his eyes, he could see nothing and
stood perfectly still. For a few moments Antonio
worked about him, first going to his head and taking
his muzzle in both hands while he breathed several
times into the horse's nostrils, then patting him and
smoothing his skin on neck, shoulders, and body
on both sides. At first the horse flinched each time
the man's hand touched him, but as Antonio spoke
soothingly to him, and he found that he was not
hurt, he seemed to grow used to the handling and
to be less frightened.</p>
<p>Then Antonio said: "Pretty quick I goin' raise
blind. Maybe you lead him out gate."</p>
<p>With more soothing words he worked around to
the horse's head, shoved him about so that his head
was toward the gate, and pushed the blind up a
little so that the animal could see the ground at his
feet. One of the boys slapped the horse's quarters
with a rope and it made a plunge or two forward,
which carried it through the gate, where it stood still
again, and Antonio pushed down the blind, looking
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span>
carefully at it to see that the animal's eyes were
entirely covered.</p>
<p>"Why doesn't he move when his eyes are covered,
Hugh?" said Jack. "I know he can't see, but I
should think he would kick and plunge even if he
did nothing else."</p>
<p>"Well now, son," said Hugh slowly, "I want you
to think a little bit and see if you can't answer that
question yourself. Of course you don't know much
about this country or its ways, but I shouldn't think
you would have to ask that question. Just you
think about it till we git this horse started, and then
I'll talk to you about it."</p>
<p>Meantime Antonio had again been patting the
horse, and at length had taken his saddle blanket
and held it under the horse's nose so that he might
smell it. Then he rubbed the blanket along the
neck on both sides, on the withers and flanks, laid
it over the neck and pushed it down on the back.
The horse flinched and snorted whenever the
blanket touched him in a new place, but seemed
quickly to lose his fear and stood still. Soon Antonio
began to whip the horse with the blanket all
over. Then he folded the blanket and tossed it
lightly on the horse's back. The animal flinched
again with a sidewise motion and groaned, but
Antonio patted it, and the blanket remained there.
One of the boys went to the off side and held the
blanket in place, and in a moment Antonio came up
with the saddle, which he placed on the blanket, the
man on the off side letting down the stirrup and the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span>
cinch gently, so as to frighten the horse as little as
possible. Antonio cautiously reached under the
belly, caught the cinch, and, passing the latigo
through the rings, by a slow pull drew it tightly
against the belly. As the horse felt the relentless
tightening of the broad band it squealed in fright
and kicked viciously at first with both hind feet and
then with each separately, but its fore feet did not
leave the ground.</p>
<p>"Goin' to tie the stirrups, Tony?" said Joe.</p>
<p>"No, dees hawse quiet. You see;" was the reply,
as Antonio gathered up the reins of the hackamore
and put his foot in the stirrup. He raised himself
slowly until his full weight rested on it, and though
at first the horse yielded he made no move, and the
rider threw his leg over the saddle and settled himself
firmly in the seat. Joe and Rube ran to their
horses and mounted and took a position on either
side and a little behind Antonio, and so close to him
that they could reach his horse with their whips.
Then Antonio reached slowly forward on either side
the bay colt's head, pushed up the blind, sat back in
the saddle and, with a wild yell, brought down the
quirt on the horse's flank. The yell was echoed by
the hazers on either side, and they plied their quirts.
The horse, blinded and confused by the sudden light,
the noise and the pain, gave a few wild plunges, and
then he realised that the first thing he must do was
to get rid of the terrible weight that was bearing
him down and crushing in his sides. He lowered
his head, arched his back, and putting his feet together
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span>
began to shoot into the air and come down
stiff legged. At this the yells and the whipping of
the hazers increased, and the group of onlookers by
the corral shouted laughter and cheers for horse and
man. The bucking lasted only for a short time, and
soon the horse, forced to it by the quirting, started
off in a swift run over the prairie. The hazers followed
him for half a mile, to see that he was going
well, and then, stopping on a little hill, continued to
watch him. Meantime, Mr. Sturgis, Jack and Hugh
went into the corral again, cut out another horse
and put it in the round corral. Then Jack, and Hugh
went outside and sat on the ground in the sun, with
their backs against the corral fence, and Hugh filled
his pipe and smoked. When Hugh's pipe was
going, Jack said:</p>
<p>"Now, Hugh, I wish you'd tell me why the horse
stands still when he's blindfolded. He didn't stand
quite still all the time though, for he kicked like the
mischief when they were saddling him, and how he
jumped when Antonio pushed the blind off."</p>
<p>"Well now, son, ain't you thought that out yet?"
replied Hugh. "I expect I'll have to tell you then.
It's so that the colt kicked when he felt the cinch
gripping him, but you took notice, I expect, that
his front feet never left the ground. He didn't
move out of his tracks, even if he did let out with
his heels.</p>
<p>"Now, I want you to listen to what I have to say,
and think about it, for it may help you some time
to see for yourself other things that seem blind, and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span>
save you asking questions that might make people
think you didn't know nothing. Now, here's this
yer horse," he continued, waving his pipe toward
the prairie, "he's a four-year-old, as I told you, born
and raised on the prairie, likely never had a rope on
more'n once in his life, maybe driven up here once
a year with the roundup. But all his life he's been
running free; he's wild. All his life he's depended
on his eyes and nose to tell him what's dangerous,
and on his legs to take him away from it. All this
time he's been able to use these things. There
never was a night so dark that he couldn't use 'em
all. Now, all of a sudden his legs are tied up so he
can't run, a hackamore is put round his nose so he
can't hardly smell nor breathe, and his eyes are shut
up so it's all black to him; he can't see nothing.
He's so scared that he don't know what to do.
Even when his legs is free he still can't see nothing,
and he knows he can't travel without his eyes; he's
had falls enough when he was a colt to know that a
horse needs eyes to run with. So it is that he
stands still. It's the same with an old horse. If
you want to put anything on him that he don't like
to carry, just blind him, and he'll stand still till the
blind's taken off."</p>
<p>"I never thought of that, Hugh, that a horse can
see in the dark, but the dark even of a dark night
must be very different from a blind."</p>
<p>"It sure is," replied Hugh. "Hello, there comes
Tony and the horse; mighty quiet too."</p>
<p>The horse as it drew near was seen to be white
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span>
with lather on its breast and neck, and dripping
with sweat over its whole body. It trotted along
slowly and the fight was all gone out of it. Every
now and then it would bore with its head, or would
try to turn off to one side, but the firm hand of the
rider always brought its head around again, and
it trotted on toward the corral. Arrived there,
Antonio reached forward and pulled the blind down
over its eyes, and then springing from the saddle,
began to take it off. One of the boys put a rope
about the horse's neck and then pulled the long hair
of the tail out, to show that it had been ridden, and
it was led to the big corral and turned loose with
the wild horses.</p>
<p>The boys joked Antonio about the horse, but he
only smiled and answered that the horse was too
gentle.</p>
<p>This could not be said of the next one, however,
a big iron-grey, which fought from the moment it
felt the rope on its forefeet. It was quiet while it
was being saddled, but as soon as the blind was
raised, it went into a perfect fury of squealing, bucking,
kicking, and fighting. None of this stirred
Antonio from his seat, but two or three times the
animal reared up so straight that those who were
watching involuntarily called, "Look out," and saw
the rider grasp the saddle horn and loosen one foot
from the stirrup, prepared to slip off if the horse fell
over backward. At length, however, urged on by
the hazers, it started off and ran half a mile and then
stopping short, again began to buck furiously, but
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span>
soon started on again and disappeared over the hills,
the hazers close behind.</p>
<p>It was a long time before Antonio returned, with
the boys still riding behind him, and horse and man
both seemed tired by the fierce battle that they had
been through, but, though exhausted by the struggle,
the horse's eye rolled fiercely, while the rider's
face was stern and set and his hand firm as he
guided the big grey up to the corral gate.</p>
<p>"Well, Tony," called out Hugh, "that's a hard
one. He'll need a heap of riding yet, before he's
right gentle."</p>
<p>"Yes, sir," was the reply, "he big strong hawse;
shake me pretty hard when he comin' down; pitch
all different ways. Maybe some time he get me
off."</p>
<p>The next horse was a contrast to both the others.
After he had been blinded and untied, he would not
stand up until he had been hit hard with the rope,
and after being saddled and mounted he would not
move, and when quirted he just stood still and
grunted. After ten minutes of vain effort to start
him, Antonio declared that he had never before seen
a horse like this one, and that it was fit only for a
pack horse. The animal was unsaddled and taken
to another corral, where a pack saddle was cinched
on him, and he was left to spend the day there
alone.</p>
<p>All through the day the work of breaking went
on, and all day Jack sat on the corral bars and
watched it, and at night when supper time came,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span>
Antonio acknowledged to Jack, who asked him the
question, that he was pretty tired.</p>
<p>"It's hard work," said Hugh, "almighty hard,
and slow. It's slower here than most places, but
we get a heap better horses, breaking 'em this way—kinder
gentling 'em the way you saw before we
put the saddle on. Ef there was time to do it, and
there wan't so many horses, they'd all ought to be
gentled from colts up. No trouble to break 'em
that way, and never no horses spoiled like they is
this way. Now you take that grey this morning;
ef he ain't handled just so, he's going to be a regular
devil. But Tony here is an awful good rider, and
he's got a good disposition too, and I reckon he'll
bring the grey through all right."</p>
<p>The work of gentling the horses went on day
after day for a week or more, and Jack never wearied
of watching the work. The patience shown by
Antonio in handling the horses surprised him, for
he had noticed that Joe and Rube sometimes got
angry at the horses they rode, and swore at them
and lashed them with their ropes. He asked his
uncle why there was such a difference.</p>
<p>"I always thought Mexicans got angry easily,
but Tony never seems to. I should think sometimes
he'd get mad."</p>
<p>"Tony has good judgment," said his uncle, "and
that's the reason I have him ride these colts. It is
very easy to spoil any horse by fighting with him,
and if he comes to look on a man as his enemy, he
will never be worth much. I have these horses
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span>
broken as gently as I can, and I find that people
are willing to pay me more for a saddle horse than
they pay people who just break their horses any
way at all. It is profitable to use care in breaking
horses."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XX<br />
<span class="medium">A TRIP TO SMITH'S HOLE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Some weeks passed. The work of the ranch
went on. Jack was now becoming a useful member
of the society there, for he had come to feel so
much at home that there were many things that he
could do about the place. Every day he gained
more confidence in himself and it was no longer
thought necessary that he should have some one
with him when he rode out away from the ranch
on the prairie. One night his uncle had suggested
that he should go out and bring in the milk cows,
and he did so, and after this it became his regular
duty to look for them, if they did not come up to
the corral to be milked at night. A little later Joe
had asked him one morning to go out and bring in
the saddle horses, which were feeding high up in
the mountain, but could be seen from the house.
He did so, and after a few days this became a part
of his regular work. For such riding as this he did
not use Pawnee, but rode, instead, old Grey, or the
Pilot, or any one of three or four other gentle horses
that were always close about the ranch. He remembered
Hugh's advice, given to him soon after
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span>
he had come out, and always carried his gun with
him. During these rides he had killed two coyotes
and a badger, the skins of which he had taken off
and stretched quite nicely, under Hugh's direction.
He had had two or three chances to shoot antelope,
too, but always close to the house, and so he had
not fired at them, for Mr. Sturgis liked to see these
wild creatures of the prairie near the ranch, and had
asked that no hunting be done close at home. Jack
had tended his live stock, and his ducks were now
quite large and full feathered birds, and were very
tame, and pretty well able to take care of themselves.
When they were still little bits of fluffy
things, Hugh had advised him to cut off the tip of
one wing from each, and he had done so. The birds,
therefore, could not fly, and wandered about on
foot, feeding with the hens and dabbling in the
brook. Hugh warned him that he would have to
look out for them when the weather got cool, or
else they might start off to go south on foot, and
if they ever wandered off on the prairie the coyotes
would surely pick them up at once. The calf elk
had grown very large, and was annoyingly tame.
It was sure to be where it was not wanted, and Mrs.
Carter once declared to Jack that she wished some
one would kill the little brute, for if she left the
kitchen door open it would go in, and put its nose
into every dish in the place.</p>
<p>Although he had many things to do, they did not
take up all Jack's time. He spent many hours lying
on the hills, watching the beasts and the birds and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span>
the insects, and this seemed to him better fun than
anything about the ranch, except the long talks
that he had with Hugh, whose stories of old times
were always interesting. He had gotten down his
uncle's bird book from the shelf in the sitting-room,
and had learned the names of many birds of the
prairie, and from Hugh he had learned also how the
larger beasts and birds lived, and what they did in
summer and autumn and winter and spring.</p>
<p>One evening as Hugh and Jack were sitting on
the steps of the bunk-house, watching the lengthening
shadows of the mountains creep further and
further out over the prairie, Hugh said to Jack:</p>
<p>"Son, your uncle wants me to go off and get a
horse load of meat, and I am thinking of going over
to Smith's Hole, to see if I can't kill a couple of
blacktail bucks; they ought to be getting pretty
fat by this time. I expect I'll have to be gone two
or three days, and I thought maybe you'd like to
go, if you can get Joe and Rube to look after your
live stock. What do you say?"</p>
<p>"Oh, Hugh," said Jack, "that would be fine.
Do you know, I have been out here now nearly four
months and I've never slept out of doors yet. I
don't know what a camp is. I'd love to go over
there with you, and it would be splendid to see
these deer. You see, I have never seen a deer since
I have been here."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I expected maybe you'd
like to go, and I'd surely like to have you come.
We'll speak to your uncle about it. I expect we'd
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">09</a></span>
better start day after to-morrow, because I've got
to look over them pack riggings, and see if they're
all in order. I expect we'd better take two pack
horses. We won't have much of anything to carry
going, besides our beds, but if we get two or three
deer, the horses will both have loads coming back,
and I'd rather lead a pack horse than walk and lead
my own horse loaded with meat."</p>
<p>Mr. Sturgis was quite willing that Jack should
go. The following day was devoted to putting in
order the pack saddles, blankets and necessary
ropes, and the morning after, they started.</p>
<p>Hugh rode old Baldy, and Jack, Pawnee. One
of the pack horses had nothing on his saddle, while
the other carried the blankets, their few cooking
utensils and provisions. Hugh and Rube put the
load on the pack horse, and threw ropes about it
and pulled them tight in a very short time, but
although Jack watched closely, he had no idea how
the ropes went over the load, nor why they held it
fast. When they were ready, Hugh mounted, and,
taking the rope of the pack horse, started on, while
Jack followed, leading the unloaded animal.</p>
<p>Half the morning had passed without a word having
been exchanged between the two riders, when
Hugh, halting in a sheltered spot out of the wind,
dismounted, threw down his rope and his bridle
rein, and felt in his pocket for his pipe. "'Light
down," he said to Jack, as he came up, "and let the
horses rest a while. I want to smoke."</p>
<p>Jack was quite willing to do so, for he felt as if his
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span>
right arm would soon be pulled out of the socket,
with the labour of dragging the lazy pack horse.</p>
<p>"What's the matter with you?" continued Hugh.
"Arm tired?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "that horse pulls back so he
nearly drags me out of the saddle."</p>
<p>"Sho!" said Hugh. "You ought to put a hackamore
on him, and then pass the rope under your
leg and take a turn of it round the saddle horn. If
he pulls back then, it cuts off his wind, and he won't
do it very long."</p>
<p>"I'll do it," said Jack; "wish I'd thought of it
before. I'd almost made up my mind to turn him
loose and drive him."</p>
<p>"We'll do that after we get a little further," said
Hugh. "We can't drive that horse you're leading
yet awhile, he'd keep trying to turn back and go
home, and make us more trouble than it is to lead
him."</p>
<p>"Hugh, I wish you'd tell me how you tied that
load on this morning," said Jack. "It seems to be
firm, and yet I should think the ropes would come
loose and you'd have to tie it up every little while."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "that's something you've got
to learn, of course, packing; it's a regular trade, and
when you know how to do it right, your load stays
on your horse; if you don't know how to do it,
your load comes loose and makes you trouble from
the time you start in the morning till you get into
camp at night. I calculated that that would be one
of the things you'd learn something about on this
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span>
trip. You see, it takes two to pack a horse; one
man on the nigh side and one on the off side. Now,
we'll probably get into camp early to-night, and
have a chance to look round a little bit and see if
there's any deer in the hills right close to where we
camp, and if there ain't, we'll move on five or six
miles further to-morrow, and then I'll give you your
first lesson in packing. Let's look at this load
now;" and he rose to his feet. They went up to
the pack horse, and Hugh, taking Jack in front of
it, told him to look at the two loads that hung on
either side of the animal. "You see," he said, "they
just balance each other, and that is the main secret
of packing, to put the loads on the two sides of the
horse so that each pulls against the other. If either
one is heavier than the other, it is pulling down all
the time upon its side, and makes the saddle and
everything swing over that way; that tends to
loosen the ropes, and is likely to make the horse's
back sore besides. You'll notice that when I make
up the side packs to-morrow morning, I'll weigh
them in my hands, and if I find that one is lighter
than the other, I'll put something into it to make
the weights even. But I can tell you more in five
minutes by showing you, than I can in an hour by
talking, so let's move on; but first we'll make a
hackamore for that horse of yours."</p>
<p>Hugh showed Jack how to fix his rope around the
horse's head and nose, so that it made a sort of headstall
for it, like a halter; then when Jack mounted,
he passed the rope under his leg, took a couple of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span>
turns around the saddle, and the pack animal, after
pulling back once or twice, gave it up and followed
readily enough close to Pawnee's hips.</p>
<p>It was three o'clock in the afternoon when, after
passing over some low hills, they rode down to a
little spring, near which stood a grove of small
cottonwoods. Beyond was a great stretch of
rough, broken, bad land country where there seemed
to be no grass, and which looked like a jumble of
steep naked hills, separated by deep ravines.</p>
<p>"That's the Hole," said Hugh, "and it's a terrible
good hunting-ground for deer and elk in winter."</p>
<p>"Why," said Jack, "it doesn't look to me as if
there were grass enough there to feed a jack rabbit,
let alone an elk."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "that's so; it does look
pretty barren, but there's lots of feed there, all the
same. There's little fine grass grows on them hills,
and the wind keeps them always bare through the
winter. Besides that, it's a heap sight warmer over
here than it is on the prairie, close to the house.
You wouldn't think there'd be much difference, but
there's lots. Then, down in the bottom of these
ravines there's worlds of good feed. It's a great
wintering place for the elk and the deer that summers
over on the mountains back of the house."</p>
<p>They stopped their horses on a little level spot,
close to the trees, and dismounted there.</p>
<p>"Throw down your bridle rein, son," said Hugh,
"and come and help me take off this pack. Whenever
you're travelling with a pack train, and stop to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span>
camp, the first thing is to take off the packs, and
after the pack animals have all been attended to,
you can unsaddle your own horse. Now, look
here!"</p>
<p>Jack went up to Hugh, who was standing on the
nigh side of the loaded pack horse, and saw him
untie the end of the rope from the cinch, and throw
it off the load in front.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "you go around to the off
side and loosen up that rope, so that I can get it off
this side."</p>
<p>Jack did so; first pulling at two or three different
parts of the rope, and as he pulled at each, Hugh
called: "No." At last he pulled on a rope which
came easily to him, and as the part slacked toward
him, the rope dropped off the forward corner of the
pack.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "take it off the hinder
corner;" and when Jack took hold of the rope about
the hinder corner, it was loose and slipped off.
Hugh pulled the slack toward him and freed the
pack on his side, and then threw the big rope off the
horse. "Now," he said, "stand under that bundle
and let it down easy when I untie the swings;" and
in a moment more the bundle dropped into Jack's
arms and he put it on the ground.</p>
<p>They unsaddled all the horses and picketed them
out. Hugh put the saddles and all their camp furniture
in the brush, saying: "We won't make camp
until we come back. Let's go out now and see what
the prospect is for game."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXI<br />
<span class="medium">JACK'S FIRST CAMP-FIRE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Hugh and Jack walked a quarter of a mile down
the ravine, at whose head they had left the horses,
without seeing any sign of game. Then, clambering
up the steep bank to the north, they crossed a hill
and entered another ravine. Jack saw that there
was good grass in the narrow bottoms of these water-courses,
as Hugh had said, and in almost each one
of several that they crossed a little stream flowed.
The sun was getting low and the air cooler, when, as
they topped one of these hills to descend into
another ravine Hugh stopped, made a motion of
warning with his hand, and then, slowly lowered
his head and backed away from the ridge.</p>
<p>"There's two deer just below us, feeding in the
creek bottom, and I believe they're near enough to
the ridge to shoot. We'll go round about opposite
them and take a look and see what the chances are.
I wouldn't be a bit surprised if we could get a good
shot at them."</p>
<p>"How far below us are they, Hugh?" said Jack.
"Not more than a hundred yards," was the reply.
"I think we can see them from the ridge, and get
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span>
one, or maybe both of them. But, now there's one
thing I want to say to you: look out you don't over-shoot.
When a man's shooting downhill, the way
we may have to do from here, he's terrible likely to
draw his sight too coarse, and to shoot too high.
If you get a chance to shoot, draw your sight down
just as fine as you can, and hold low down on the
animal. It is better to shoot under than it is to
shoot over, anyhow; don't forget this."</p>
<p>They walked briskly along, and in a very few
moments Hugh said, "Hold on now; I'll go up and
take a look." He did so, cautiously peering over
the ridge, with bared head, and then, bending down,
he motioned Jack to his side.</p>
<p>"They're right there," he whispered, "and it's an
easy shot. You take the big buck and I'll try the
little fellow when he runs. Remember now, hold
low and steady. If the deer is standing with his
tail toward you, aim about for his loin, and try to
break his back."</p>
<p>They crept forward on hands and knees, and not
until they had reached the very crown of the hill
did they raise their heads. Then they saw the
wished-for game, two fine mule deer bucks, busily
feeding on the green grass that grew near the
stream. They were graceful creatures, one of them
much larger than the other and with a fine head of
horns; the other had small horns and was evidently
young. Their ears were very large, and their tails,
which were white, all except a black tip, were constantly
in motion. Both deer stood broadside
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span>
on; the larger one somewhat in advance of the
other.</p>
<p>"You shoot first," said Hugh. "Take the big
one, and remember, hold low."</p>
<p>Jack put his rifle to his shoulder, feeling as cool
and steady as ever he did in his life, and aiming
just behind the big buck's elbow, fired, and the deer
dropped in his tracks. The little fellow made one
or two jumps, and then stood looking, when Hugh's
ball pierced his breast, and he too fell to the ground.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "that's a good job, son. If
I'd thought we were going to get meat so quick, I'd
a fetched a pack horse along, but I didn't much
think we would. So I'll go down and butcher them
deer, and you go back to camp and put a pack saddle
on one of the pack horses and fetch it over here.
Mind you take the saddle and the blanket and the
lash rope that goes together; don't mix up the
riggings. You'd better bring the pack horse you
led; it hasn't had nothing to do all day except to
pack its saddle, and it might as well work for its
grub now. You can't see the camp from here, but
I don't expect there's any danger of your losing
your way. You know we crossed four of these
gulches coming, and when you get to the fifth you
want to turn to your right and follow up the creek,
and soon you'll come in sight of the camp. Keep
the sun on your right hand all the time. Do you
think you can do it?"</p>
<p>"Oh, I guess so, Hugh," said Jack; "now that
you've told me how many ravines we crossed; I
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span>
didn't notice, myself, I only knew we'd crossed a
number of them."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "you've got to learn to take
notice of just them things, if you're going to be a
prairie man. Now mind, if you should not be able
to find your way to camp, and think you're lost,
don't keep on travelling; just climb up to the top
of the nearest hill and set there, and before night
you'll see or hear me. But I don't expect but what
you'll find your way back to camp all right."</p>
<p>Hugh went on downhill toward the deer, and
Jack set out on his return to camp. He kept count
of the ravines as he crossed them, and when he came
to the fifth, looked around to see if there was anything
there that he could recognise. It all looked
strange to him, but he turned to his right and followed
the stream up, and, before he had gone very
far, he noticed a clump of willows that he remembered
they had passed soon after leaving camp. A
few steps beyond this a grove of trees appeared, and
a moment later he saw the horses. "Now, the
question is," he said to himself, as he hurried toward
camp, "can I find my way back to Hugh? I'll try
hard, anyhow."</p>
<p>He loosened the pack horse from its picket pin,
led it to the saddles, and choosing the right rigging,
saddled the animal and tied the lash rope to the
saddle. It was the first time he had ever put a pack
saddle on a horse, and he did not feel sure that he
had done it right, but he spent little time over it,
thinking that the important thing now was to get
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span>
the horse to Hugh, so that they could bring their
meat to camp before the sun set. He found his way
back without difficulty to the place they had shot
from, and from there saw Hugh, who had finished
butchering, smoking his pipe by the two carcasses.
When Jack reached him, Hugh said, "Well, you
didn't have no trouble, did you?"</p>
<p>"Not a bit," said Jack. "I'd a notion at one time
that maybe I was lost, for the ravine that we came
down looked strange to me on my way back, but I
followed it up and got to camp all right."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "it's a mighty good plan,
when you're going along in a strange country, to
stop every now and then and take a look behind you,
and see how the country looks after you pass through
it. Of course as you go along you see how things
look ahead of you, but sometimes they look mighty
different from the other side. I'd ought to have
spoken to you about that before. Say," he continued,
as he rose to his feet and looked at the pack
horse, "who saddled that horse?"</p>
<p>"Why, I did, of course," answered Jack; "what's
the matter with it? I kind o' felt as if there was
something wrong when I started, but I was in a rush
to get back here, and so hurried along without
stopping to think about it."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "there is something wrong,
but we ain't got time now to let you find out what
it is. Don't you see you've got the saddle on hind
side before? You must have cinched the horse up
from the off side instead of from the near."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span>
"Of course," said Jack, "I see it now. That must
be what made it seem so queer when I was saddling;
but you see, both ends of the pack saddle look alike.
I don't think I would have made that mistake with
a riding saddle."</p>
<p>"No, I expect not," said Hugh, "if you had, you'd
probably have found it out when you tried to mount.
Now, I'll put this saddle on right and then we'll take
these deer to camp as quick as we can. The sun
will be down before long, and we want daylight to
cook supper and spread our beds by."</p>
<p>They packed the two deer on the horse. Hugh
did most of the work of packing, but Jack helped
now and then by holding up the load on one side, and
pulling a rope or two. As they drew near the camp
Hugh said, "We've got lots of daylight yet and can
make a nice camp here, and to-morrow morning
we'll hunt a little way on horseback. We don't
want to have too good luck right at the start, if we
do we'll have to go back home again too soon."</p>
<p>Hugh hung up the two deer to the branches of a
tree, and then told Jack to go down to the stream
and dip up a bucket of water, while he would gather
wood and start the supper. By the time the water
had been brought, the fire was blazing, and Hugh
had their small mess box open on the ground and
had taken from it a little piece of bacon, the coffee
and sugar in the two cans, and a sack which contained
several loaves of bread.</p>
<p>"Now, you see," he said, "we're in luck this trip,
for Mrs. Carter gave us a sack full of bread, so we
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span>
won't have to bake none while we're out. All we've
got to do now is to fry a little meat and cook a cup
of coffee, and our supper's ready. You fill that
coffee kettle with water and set it on to boil while I
cut some of that fat deer meat." By the time the
water was boiling, fat ribs of one of the deer
were sizzling in the frying-pan, giving out an
odour that made Jack feel very hungry. Hugh put
the coffee into the hot water, let it boil for two or
three minutes, then stood it off the fire but close to
it, where it would keep warm, and told Jack to cut
some slices of bread. When he had done this, Hugh
told him to set the table, which made Jack look
rather blank, for he did not know precisely what
Hugh meant, but he laid out two of the tin plates,
two cups, and for each a knife, fork and spoon, and
Hugh nodded, as much as to say that this was right.
The deer meat, the bread and the hot coffee, with
plenty of sugar in it, seemed to Jack to make about
the best meal that he had ever tasted.</p>
<p>When they had finished eating, Hugh said, "Now,
let's unroll our beds and get ready to sleep, and then
we won't have anything more to do except to sit by
the fire here until we get sleepy." He pointed out
to Jack a good place for his bed, where the grass was
smooth and there were no stones or roots or bits of
stick lying on the ground, and the bed was soon unrolled
and ready for occupancy. Hugh made his own
bed and then returned to the fire and again lit his
pipe.</p>
<p>The sun had set, and the air was so cool as to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span>
make the warmth of the fire very pleasant. Jack
lay down by it and stretched out his legs in the
comfortable heat. "Better put your coat on, son,"
said Hugh; "it gets cool mighty fast after the sun
goes down. It's good for you to keep right warm
until you turn into your blankets. If you go to bed
feeling chilly, it's liable to take you a long time to
go to sleep."</p>
<p>Jack followed this advice, and after putting on his
coat lay down again by the fire, for he was tired and
a little bit sleepy. "Tell me something about these
deer that we killed, Hugh," he said; "they don't
look like any of the deer that I ever saw in Central
Park; their ears are big, and their tails are different.
Are these the regular deer that we have in the east?"</p>
<p>"I expect not," said Hugh; "these are what we
call blacktails out here. You took notice, I expect,
that the tips of their tails were black; I guess that's
what gives them the name. They've got another
name, though. I have heard your uncle call them
mule deer, and he says that that name comes from
their having such big ears. They've got sure enough
big ears, all right, and I guess that's a pretty good
name for 'em. I have heard him say that 'way over
west, toward the coast, there's another kind of deer
that's the real blacktail; it's got a big tail that's black
all over. These deer here are good meat, but they're
a kind of a fool animal, after all. Sometimes if you
shoot one, the others with it will just kind of jump
round, looking to see where the noise comes from;
they don't seem to have sense enough to run away;
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span>
but I expect that don't mean much except that they
haven't been hunted. I've seen elk and mountain
sheep do the same thing, and of course buffalo will
stand and let you shoot at them as long as you want
to. 'Pears to me always as if deer and elk didn't
depend much on their eyes. If a man keeps right
still they don't seem to see him; or, anyway, they
ain't afraid of him; but if they once get a smell of
him, they don't wait to ask no questions, but just
light out of the country.</p>
<p>"You killed that deer mighty well, son," he went
on, "you're getting to be steady as anybody need
be. I wondered, when you drew up to shoot,
whether you'd have any trouble catching your
sight. I thought maybe you would, because this
was the first deer you'd shot at; but you didn't
seem to be a mite flustered."</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "I didn't feel excited. Of
course I wanted to kill the deer, but I was thinking
hard about what you had told me of the danger of
over-shooting. I don't believe I thought of anything
else."</p>
<p>They were sitting by the fire, not talking, when
suddenly from the hills to the north, sounded a
series of frightful yells and howls, which made Jack
sit up very straight. "What in the world's that,
Hugh?" he said, seeing that Hugh had not changed
his position nor apparently heard this dreadful noise.</p>
<p>"That yelling?" said Hugh. "Why I forgot
that you'd never been in camp before. Now, what
do you expect that is?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span>
"Why, I don't know," said Jack; "it sounded
like a lot of demons fighting."</p>
<p>"Well, I'll tell you what it is," said Hugh, "it's
just some miserable coyote that's found the place
where we butchered them deer, and is telling all the
other coyotes about it."</p>
<p>"But, Hugh," said Jack, "there must be at least
a hundred there, from the noise they make."</p>
<p>"Not so," said Hugh; "I don't believe there's
more than one. I told you the other day that one
of them woodchucks could make more noise for its
size than any beast I knew; but when I said that, I
expect I must have forgot the coyote. Sometimes
if two or three get together and howl, you'd think
there was a thousand. They'd be a terrible beast
to hear at night if one was anyway scary."</p>
<p>"I should think so," said Jack; "I didn't know
what was going to happen when I heard that fellow
begin just now."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "he and his partners will have
a good feast to-night; but I expect you're getting
sleepy, and we want to be up with the sun to-morrow,
so maybe we might as well turn in now."</p>
<p>"All right, Hugh, I am getting sleepy and I
guess I'd like to go to bed."</p>
<p>"Say we do," said Hugh. "One thing I'll tell
ye, seeing that you've never slept out of doors before;
when you go to bed, take off your coat, your
pants and your shoes; the less a man has on him
when he is in bed the better he rests."</p>
<p>Hugh filled his pipe again and put some more
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span>
wood on the fire, which blazed up brightly; and
Jack, sitting on the edge of his bed, began to
undress.</p>
<p>"Put your shoes and the clothes that you
take off under the head of your bed," said Hugh,
"then, if it should come on to rain or snow during
the night, they won't get wet. You've got a lot of
little odds and ends of things to learn about being
in camp, and I want to tell you all of them that I
can think of, because if you know them you'll be a
heap more comfortable than you will if you don't."</p>
<p>Before long, Jack was snugly wrapped in his
blankets, watching the flickering fire and the bright
stars that shone out of the black sky above him.
Presently Hugh turned into his blankets, and the
fire went down.</p>
<p>Jack had been sleepy when he went to bed, but
now he felt wakeful. He could hear queer little
things moving about in the grass close to his head;
the leaves of the trees rustled in the gentle breeze;
the horses cropped the grass and walked about not
far off, and each one of these sounds seemed loud
to him. Every now and then there would be a
burst of howling from the hills, and altogether, Jack
felt strange. But soon he slept.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXII<br />
<span class="medium">A LOAD OF BLACKTAIL</span></h2>
</div>
<p>"Wake up, son, it's getting toward morning, and
I want to get started. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Levez</i>, as the Frenchmen say
up north."</p>
<p>Jack opened his eyes very slowly, and pushed the
blankets down from his head and saw the bright
light of the fire and Hugh moving about it; but
the stars still shone brightly from the black sky
above, and there was nothing to show that it was
not the middle of the night.</p>
<p>"Is it time to get up, Hugh?" Jack asked; "I'm
awful sleepy."</p>
<p>"Yes, you've got to get up if you're going hunting
with me. If you'd rather, you can lie in your
blankets till the sun gets up, but you can't hunt if
you do that," was the reply.</p>
<p>Jack pushed down the blankets, but the air was
cold, and he hated to get up.</p>
<p>"Put on your shoes," said Hugh, "and come over
and dress here by the fire where it's warm. The
nights are getting mighty cool now, and I expect
you feel it."</p>
<p>"Isn't it cold, though," said Jack, as he drew on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span>
his shoes, and with his clothes in his arms ran over
to the fire. "This is nice and warm, isn't it?"</p>
<p>"Well, you've got to hurry up now and dress;
breakfast is near ready."</p>
<p>Jack saw that meat was sputtering in the frying
pan, and that the coffee-pot was standing by the
fire, and hurried into his clothes.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "I expect you want to wash
your face. Hold your hands and I'll pour." He
dipped a cup into the bucket of water, and, while
Jack held his hands together, poured a tiny stream
into them, while the boy washed his hands and face.</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "that's a new kind of a wash
basin to me."</p>
<p>"Is it?" said Hugh. "Well, it saves you washing
in the dark down by the spring. You may as
well go down there though and get a bucket of fresh
water, and we'll heat that while we're eating, so
that we can wash up the dishes before we start."</p>
<p>Jack did as he was bade, and by the time he had
returned with the water, Hugh had taken the food
off the fire, and they began their breakfast. After
the meal was over Jack went out and brought in the
saddle horses, while Hugh was washing up the
dishes, and after saddling his own, rolled up his bed
and was ready to start. A few moments later, Hugh
was in the saddle, and they rode off over the prairie,
nearly in the direction that they had gone the night
before, but keeping away from the Hole, so as to go
around the heads of all the ravines.</p>
<p>"I wanted to get out early," said Hugh, "so's to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span>
go over here a couple of miles and get up on top of
a high hill by sunrise. From there we can see a
long distance, and if there's any deer feeding, we
can see them and figure how to get up to them."</p>
<p>It was still dark, but now in the east there was a
streak of pale light along the horizon, and the stars
above it were growing dim. They galloped briskly
along over the dark prairie, now and then hearing a
rush of feet and the stamping and blowing of antelope
which they had started. Before they reached
the hill of which Hugh had spoken the dawn was
fairly upon them, and the eastern sky was red.
They left their horses in a little hollow, and on foot
climbed to the top of the hill, but it was not yet light
enough for them to see very much. Before long,
however, the limb of the sun appeared over the
eastern horizon, and at once the air seemed to clear,
and they could see a long distance.</p>
<p>"Oh, look at that, Hugh," said Jack, pointing
north-west, "there's a big animal out there, and a
little one near it. What are they? Why I believe
that's an elk."</p>
<p>Hugh looked in the direction to which Jack
pointed, and said: "Yes, that's an elk all right, and
a calf with her; we don't want anything of her. I
don't see exactly what she's doing down here on
the prairie with that little calf; she ought to be up
in the hills. There's four antelope right close,
almost within gunshot; but we don't want antelope
either. What we came after is deer; and there they
are," he continued, pointing toward the Hole, where,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span>
in a depression at the head of a ravine, three dark
coloured animals were feeding. They were a long
way off, and Jack could not tell whether they had
horns or not; in fact, he would not have known what
they were, but he saw that they were not elk nor
antelope; their colour told him so much. They
could not be wolves, for they stood too high on
their legs, and had no tails that he could see; so it
seemed certain that they must be deer, or some
other animal that he had not seen.</p>
<p>"What had we better do, Hugh?" he said; "do
you think we can get up to them?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "there won't be no trouble
about that, but what I'd like to know now is, which
way this wind is going to blow. The easiest way
to get at them is to go around north of them. I
think that ridge would bring us within shot, but if
the wind starts up to blow from the west or north
or north-west, they'd sure smell us, and we wouldn't
get no shot. I'd rather set here a spell and see
what the wind is goin' to do. They'll feed for two
hours, maybe three, yet before they lie down. Let's
just keep our eye on 'em and see how they act."</p>
<p>Hugh filled his pipe and smoked, and waited for
the wind. For some time this did not come, and
the smoke from his pipe went straight upward.
Presently, however, a gentle air from the north-west
carried away a big puff of smoke, and then it was calm
once more. But soon the breeze began to blow very
gently from the north-west, and Hugh, as he finished
his pipe and knocked the ashes out from it, said:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span>
"Well, I thought that was likely the way it would
act. Now, we've got to go round them deer and try
to get up on them from toward the Hole."</p>
<p>They mounted and rode briskly back the way
they had come, for some little distance, and then,
turning east, toward the rim of the Hole, went
more slowly. When they reached the edge of the
prairie, from which they could look down on the
broken bad lands, where they had been the evening
before, they followed the rim north, keeping a sharp
look-out ahead for any possible game that might
start there, and also watching closely the ravines
which ran down into the Hole.</p>
<p>At length Hugh said: "'Pears to me that we
ought to be pretty close to where them deer is.
Let's go slow and careful now, and look the ground
over."</p>
<p>The next two ridges were passed very cautiously,
but on reaching the summit of the third, Hugh
dropped his head and said, "There they are; we're
too far down. Let's take our horses back to the
next ravine, and come up here and watch the deer.
They'll likely work this way before very long."</p>
<p>After they had left their horses, Hugh took Jack
up to the crest of the hill and pointed out the deer
to him. They were feeding on a hillside, a quarter
of a mile away, but their heads were pointed toward
the Hole, and Hugh felt sure that with a little patience
they would get a shot. They sat there waiting,
for more than an hour, while the deer fed about, almost
in the same place. At last the biggest of them
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span>
raised his head and took a long look down the ravine,
and then one to either side; then he started,
walking slowly toward the Hole. The other two
did not seem to pay any attention to him, but after
the leader had gone fifty or seventy-five yards, one
of the others stopped feeding and trotted after him,
and these two walked along together, directly toward
the hunters. The third deer remained where
he was; he had evidently found something that he
greatly liked and did not intend to leave it; but at
last, finding that he was being deserted, he too
raised his head and trotted after the others. He
had not come up with them when they passed within
seventy-five yards of the hunters, and Hugh
said:</p>
<p>"Raise up now and kill the big one. I'll stop
him, and as soon as he stops, you shoot."</p>
<p>Jack slowly raised himself, and resting his left elbow
on his knee, aimed at the leading buck. The
other deer was walking by the big buck's side.</p>
<p>As Jack brought his rifle to his shoulder, Hugh
bleated, in imitation of a fawn, and both deer stopped
and turned their heads toward him.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh. And as Jack's rifle sounded,
both deer fell to the ground. Hugh said, "Slip
another cartridge in quick; that other fellow may
get up and run off;" and they started down toward
the fallen animals. The third deer turned, bounded
gracefully up the hill, paused for a moment on its
crest to look, and then disappeared.</p>
<p>"But Hugh," said Jack, as he hurried down the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span>
hill, "what made the other deer fall; did I hit both?
I couldn't have done that for I only aimed at one."</p>
<p>"Well, son," said Hugh, "it looks to me as if your
ball went through the big deer and killed the little
one too; but we'll soon know."</p>
<p>In a moment they stood by the deer, and Hugh,
seizing the smaller one by one of its horns, thrust
his knife into its chest.</p>
<p>"Well," said he, "we've got him anyhow." Then
he bled the other deer, and then they looked for the
bullet holes.</p>
<p>It was as Hugh had said, Jack had not remembered
what Hugh had told him the night before
about aiming low when he was shooting downhill,
and had hit the big buck a little higher up than he
had intended, but low enough to kill him. The
ball had passed between the ribs, out on the other
side, and had passed through the heart of the further
deer.</p>
<p>"That's a pretty lucky shot," said Hugh; "you
might hunt a good many years and not do that over
again. You've beaten me all hollow this trip, and
have killed three times as many deer as I have. I
expect you're what I call a lucky hunter, and if you
only keep on trying hard, and don't get to feeling too
big about your good luck, you'll do well right
along."</p>
<p>"I'm surely going to try hard, Hugh. I don't
think I have done anything very bad since that first
day when I tried to hunt antelope alone. I think I
learned a heap that day, and I have been glad a good
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span>
many times since that I didn't kill those first antelope."</p>
<p>"That's right," said Hugh; "I believe that was
an awful good lesson for you, and I hope you'll always
remember it. I ain't a mite uneasy but what
you'll always do well in your hunting, for you're
mighty cool headed. I have hunted with a heap of
men that couldn't stand it to see game. Seems like
whenever they saw an animal standing near 'em,
they just got crazy right off. Why, I have seen men
that would tremble and shake like they had the ague,
if they had a chance like you had just now. Well,"
he went on, "I believe we might as well butcher,
and then start back and pack up our camp. We'll
put one deer on one of the pack horses and then
bring the whole outfit over here and pack the other
three deer on the other horse. We've got all the meat
we want, and we can start now and get back to the
ranch by night. I did expect to be gone three or
four days but we've had such terrible fine luck that
we've got all the meat we need, and it's no use stopping.
If we do we're likely to kill something more,
and we haven't got no way to pack it."</p>
<p>The work of butchering the deer did not take
long; they dragged the carcasses a little way up
the hill, turned them over to drain, and left them
lying on the prairie. Twenty minutes' ride brought
them to the camp, where the pack horses were soon
saddled. The beds and the mess outfit were put on
one of them, and here Hugh gave Jack his first lesson
in packing, showing him how the bundles were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span>
put on in the swing ropes, and then how the diamond
hitch was thrown. After half a dozen trials,
Jack thought he understood how the rope should
go, and which ones the packer on either side should
pull.</p>
<p>"That's enough for one lesson," said Hugh;
"now, before we fasten this load on with the last
rope, we'll throw one of them deer carcasses on top,
and put the lash rope over it." This was done, and
Jack for the first time helped to pack a horse, working
on the off side.</p>
<p>"You're pretty small," Hugh said, "to pack yet a
while. A fellow's got to be tall enough to reach up,
so that he can put up a bundle on top of the pack,
and so that he can get a good pull on the ropes,
forward and backward. Your legs are a little mite
short for that part of the work yet. After this,
when you and me go out, if you're going to help
pack, we'll have to pick short-legged pack ponies."</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "I suppose my legs will get
longer after a while."</p>
<p>"You bet," said Hugh, "they'll be all right after
a little while, and it ain't needful that you should do
much packing yet, but it's mighty handy to know
how to do it."</p>
<p>The other deer was put on the second pack horse,
and roughly lashed in place, and when they reached
the two animals killed that morning, one deer was
hung on either side of the saddle, while the third
was put on top. Jack helped to pack this load too,
and did his work better because the horse was standing
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span>
on a side hill, which added six or eight inches
to the boy's apparent height.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, as they were ready to start,
"we don't need to haul these animals behind us all
day long; we'll just tie up their ropes and drive
them; they'll travel good going home."</p>
<p>Hugh coiled up the rope of each horse and made
it fast to the lash rope on top of the pack. Then,
mounting, they started the pack animals across the
prairie in the direction of the ranch. When they
had gone two or three miles they crossed a ravine,
from the side of which bubbled a clear, cold spring,
and here they stopped and took a long, refreshing
drink. At the edge of the water were some tracks
in the wet earth, which to Jack looked like the
tracks of a small dog. He asked Hugh what they
were, and Hugh told him they were the tracks of
coyote puppies.</p>
<p>"They've only just left here," said Hugh; "likely
they heard us coming and skipped out."</p>
<p>They had hardly come up on to the prairie from
this ravine when they saw three half-grown coyote
puppies shambling along only a short distance in
front of them. The puppies saw the men at once,
and galloped off, with drooping tails, and heads
turned back over their shoulders, looking for all the
world like three little dogs that expected to have a
stone thrown after them.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't shoot at them," said Hugh, as Jack
reached down his hand to draw his rifle from its
scabbard: "I don't know how these pack horses
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span>
are about shooting, and if you were to fire a shot,
it might make one of 'em buck, and get us into
some little trouble."</p>
<p>It was nearly night before the ranch house was
seen.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXIII<br />
<span class="medium">OCCUPATIONS OF A CRIPPLE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>A few days after their return from Smith's Hole,
Jack met with quite a bad accident. Joe had
driven the waggon around on to the mountain to get
a load of poles, and Hugh and Jack rode up by the
short trail to help him. While they were loading
the waggon, Jack carelessly dropped the end of a
heavy pole on to his foot, and crushed it quite badly.
Hugh at once took off his shoe and stocking and
examined the foot, but did not find that any bones
were broken. He bandaged it with a couple of
handkerchiefs, wet with cold water, and putting
Jack on his horse, they returned to the ranch. The
ride down the mountain side was very painful for
the boy, but whenever they passed a brook, Hugh
bathed the foot in cold water, which somewhat
relieved the pain.</p>
<p>When they reached the ranch Jack's foot was
badly swollen, and he was at once put to bed, where
he stayed for two days. After that he was allowed
to sit up, with his foot resting on a chair, and the
next two days he spent chiefly in reading, though
his uncle and the men often came in and talked
with him, giving him the news. Hugh made a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span>
crutch for him, and on the fifth day he was allowed
to hobble about with that, but was warned not to
put his foot to the ground, unless he wanted to go
to bed again.</p>
<p>It was pretty dull work doing nothing, for Jack
greatly preferred riding over the prairie to sitting
on a chair in front of the ranch door.</p>
<p>The first day that he used the crutch, Jack
amused himself for a time by calling his flock of
tame wild ducks about him and feeding them; but
after a while, the ducks having had all the grain
they wanted, walked off in single file to the brush,
and left him alone. He thought of getting one of
the men to bring the elk to him, but this was such
a stupid beast that he thought it would prove a
poor companion.</p>
<p>As the men were leaving the house after dinner,
Jack called to Hugh and said, "Hugh, can't you
think of something for me to do? I'm getting
awful tired of staying right here in one place."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I wish it was so you could
get on your horse and ride with me this afternoon.
I'm going over into the pasture and then down
round by the lake. I'd like right well to stop here
and talk with you all the afternoon, but I can't do
it. Them cows has got to be looked after. You
surely ought to have some one to keep you company,
though. I'll tell you what it is; I'll go down
to the barn and fetch up Pawnee, and picket him
around here close to you. Maybe he'd be sort of
company for you."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span>
"That's just the thing," said Jack; "I wish
you'd do it. It's nearly a week now since I've
seen him."</p>
<p>Hugh went down to the barn, and after a little
while returned, leading the horse with Jack's rope
about its neck. He drove a picket pin into the sod,
not far in front of the boy's chair, and fastened the
rope to it. Then he went into the house, and came
out again with a cup in which were a dozen lumps
of sugar.</p>
<p>"Now, son," he said, "I've got a job for you
that'll keep you busy all the afternoon, and it's
something that you'll like to do, and something
that may some day be right useful to you.
You put in your time this afternoon teaching this
horse to come to you when you whistle to him.
You can't much more than make a start to-day, but
if you keep it up for a few days, you can make him
so that he'll come to you just as far as he can hear
you whistle."</p>
<p>"That'll be splendid, Hugh, if I can only do it;
but how can I teach him? I remember reading a
book once about a man who lived in Mexico, and
he had trained his horse just that way; and I remember
that whenever he had left his horse and
was on foot, and his enemies got after him, he'd
whistle, and the horse would come dashing up, and
he'd jump into the saddle and ride away. You
see, his was the fastest horse in all that country,
and they never could catch him."</p>
<p>"Well, now," said Hugh, "there's no reason why
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span>
you shouldn't teach yours to do just that same
thing, and yours is just about the fastest one in
all this country; so you might be just like the
fellow you read about in the book. Now, after a
while, when the horse is feeding quite a little way
from you, you whistle to him, and then pull on his
rope and make him come up to you and give him a
lump of sugar. Don't give him only one, and then
let him wander off and pick grass again, and the
next time he gets pretty well toward the end of his
rope, whistle to him again, and draw in on the rope
and bring him up close to you and give him another
lump of sugar. Do that half a dozen times, not too
close together, and the first thing you know you'll
see him start toward you just as soon as you whistle.
Mind you always whistle to him the same way.
Are you a pretty good whistler? Can you whistle
loud?"</p>
<p>"No, I can't whistle very loud," said Jack. "I
can whistle a little, but I can't whistle real shrill."</p>
<p>"Well, hold on now; what will we do for a
whistle? Seems to me your uncle's got a dog
whistle somewhere in the house, that he always used
with old Dan, that bird dog that he hunted with.
I think I saw that whistle this winter in the cigar
box on top of the book shelves. Hold on a
minute."</p>
<p>Hugh went into the house and a few minutes
later came out again with the dog whistle and gave
it to Jack. "Now," he said, "if you're going to teach
the horse to mind that whistle, you'll have to get
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span>
your uncle to give it to you, and carry it with you
all the time. If he gets to learn one sound he'll
mind that and no other. Try him now, before I
start off."</p>
<p>Pawnee was busy eating grass, nearly at the full
length of the rope, when Jack gave a long shrill
blast on his whistle, and, at the unusual sound, the
horse raised his head and looked about. Jack
began to gather in the rope, and Pawnee, following
it, walked up to him and stuck out his nose. Jack
offered him a piece of the sugar, at which he at
first sniffed rather suspiciously, and then ate and
seemed to enjoy. He reached out his nose for more,
but Jack threw down the rope and turned away, and
presently the horse walked back and began to eat
the grass again.</p>
<p>"That's all right," said Hugh, "you'll see that before
night he'll come quick when you blow that
whistle. Well, so long; I must be going;" and
Hugh walked away to the corral to get his horse.</p>
<p>Jack sat there most of the afternoon, and from
his chair trained his horse, and it proved as
Hugh had said, that before supper time Pawnee
knew that a blast on the whistle meant that he was
to be offered a lump of sugar, which he was always
ready to take. Jack was perfectly delighted with
his success, and determined that he would keep up
this education of the horse until it had been so
thoroughly trained that it would seek him at the
whistle wherever he might be. The interest that he
felt in this lightened up the next two or three days
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span>
wonderfully. Each day he hopped about on his
crutch a little more easily, and at last he was able
to put his injured foot to the ground without much
pain. He worked with Pawnee down in the corral
and out on the flat in front of the house, and at last
he took the rope off the animal and turned it loose,
letting it wander where it would, and when he found
that he could call the loose horse from a distance
of a quarter of a mile, and it came galloping or
trotting toward him at the sound of the whistle,
he felt that he had really accomplished a great
feat.</p>
<p>Hugh congratulated him heartily on his success.
"I had a horse once," he said, "that I trained to
do this, and there was lots of times when it was
mighty handy to me. Most folks think that a horse
is just a fool and don't know nothing; but it ain't
so. A horse, if you treat it right, is a mighty
knowledgeable critter, but most people don't know
enough to see what there is in one, and think you
can't get nothing out of it without you use a quirt,
spurs, and maybe a club. Of course it's a mighty
nervous animal, and it's always been used to being
chased, and so it is scary, but there's lots of sense
to a horse if you take it right."</p>
<p>At length Jack's foot was well enough for him to
ride; but his first two or three rides were close
about the ranch and on old Grey, which could be
trusted not to make any sudden movements, and so
not to oblige Jack to use his lame foot, which, however,
was recovering rapidly, the cold water treatment,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span>
which Hugh had insisted on giving it having
proved very effective.</p>
<p>During this period of his confinement, Jack had
seen more of Shep, the ranch dog, than he ever had
before. This was a big yellow shaggy shepherd
dog, very affectionate and a very good watch dog,
but rather a foolish, puppy-like beast, that was not
especially popular with anyone. Hugh had said of
him, "That dog there thinks he's a runner, and he
thinks he's a fighter too, and he ain't neither one nor
the other. He'll start off and chase an antelope or
a jack rabbit, like he thought he was going to catch
it without any trouble, but the things run off ahead
of him, not a bit scared, and he just runs himself
down and comes back with his tongue hanging out
a yard, looking, and I expect feeling, like a fool.
He ain't never caught nothing yet, and I don't
expect he ever will catch anything."</p>
<p>It was after dark one evening, when Jack and
Hugh were sitting before the ranch door, and Shep
was lying at Hugh's feet, that they heard a coyote
howl right close to the house. The dog sprang to
his feet and rushed around the corner of the house
to where the sound had come from, and they could
hear the patter of his feet as he raced down toward
the blacksmith's shop. Suddenly from the shop
there came a tumult of growling, yelling and worrying,
a noise as if a lot of dogs were fighting.</p>
<p>"By George!" said Hugh, "I believe that fool dog
has ran into a nest of coyotes." Hugh ran around
the corner of the house, and toward the sounds,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span>
which still continued, and Jack, grasping his crutch,
half ran, half hopped, after him. In a moment he
heard Hugh shouting, the noise of the fighting
ceased, and as Jack reached the corner of the blacksmith's
shop, he met Hugh coming back with Shep
running before him.</p>
<p>"Well, now, what do you suppose I found when I
got down there?" said Hugh. "Just inside the
garden fence was this dog and six or eight coyotes
on top of him, just everlastingly making the fur
fly. It's mighty lucky for him that he's got so much
of this long yellow hair; if he hadn't had, he'd have
been eaten up before I got there. I expect he's
some cut up as it is." They took Shep into the
kitchen, and by the light of the lamp looked over
him, and found that, as Hugh had said, he was
bitten and cut in a dozen places. None of the
wounds were very serious, but only his shaggy coat
had protected him.</p>
<p>"Do you know," said Hugh, after they were again
seated in the bright moonlight, "I believe that was
just a scheme of them coyotes to kill this dog. You
took notice, didn't you, how close that one that
howled was to us? I never saw a coyote come so
close to the house before. I believe he just came
up here to tole Shep down behind the blacksmith's
shop, where his partners were waiting. It
was a pretty sharp trick now, wasn't it?"</p>
<p>A few days after this, Hugh and Mr. Sturgis
looked at Jack's foot and pronounced it well. It
no longer pained him at all, but sometimes he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span>
thought it felt a little stiff as he walked. He now
resumed his riding after the saddle horses and the
milk cows, and besides this, went out almost daily
with Hugh or with his uncle on their excursions in
one direction or another, after horses and cattle.</p>
<p>One day, the cows that had been kept in the
pasture were brought up to the corrals, in order that
the calves might be branded. They were all put in
one of the large corrals and then, one by one, the
cows were cut out and driven through a chute into
another large corral, leaving all the calves together;
then the branding began. Fires were built just
outside the corral fence, and the branding irons put
in them to heat. Then, one by one the calves were
roped, thrown and held down until the hot iron had
been put on them. It took a long time to brand
the hundred and four calves in this bunch, and by
the time the work had been finished all hands were
hot, tired and covered with dust. It was a relief to
every one when the gates were opened and the
calves and their mothers allowed to come together
again.</p>
<p>"I'll tell you what it is, son," said Hugh, "working
cattle and horses isn't all fun; there's a heap of
hard work to it, and I believe I'm getting pretty old
to do work of that kind. Fact is, you see, I wasn't
raised to this sort of business. We didn't have no
cattle in this country till about ten or a dozen years
ago. That's the reason I always said I ain't no cowman
and won't never be. A man's got to be brung
up to the business to do it well."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXIV<br />
<span class="medium">A BERRYING PARTY</span></h2>
</div>
<p>One afternoon as Jack was up on the side of the
mountain gathering saddle horses he saw far off over
the prairie a waggon and two riders coming toward
the ranch. He did not know who it could be.
Since the horse roundup had left, no strangers had
been seen. Soon after he had unsaddled, the team
came in sight over the hill, and at length it was
near enough for him to recognise that one of the
riders was a woman, and that there were two people
in the waggon. A little later, the party reached the
barn and proved to be Mr. and Mrs. Powell and
Charley and the little girl. They had come over to
visit Mr. Sturgis. Mr. Powell wanted to kill some
meat, and Mrs. Powell said that she had determined
to come with him and to ask Mrs. Carter if she
would not go up on the mountains with her, berrying.
The visitors were made welcome. While they
were attending to the horses, Jack said to Charley,
"How are the wolf puppies getting along? Have
they got tame yet?"</p>
<p>"No," said Charley, "I can't do nothing with
them. They're just as afraid of me now as they were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span>
the day we got them; but there's something mighty
queer about them. With mother and Bess they're
right tame; they seem to like to see them, and they
take meat out of their hands, and like to have their
heads patted and to be scratched. But just as soon
as I get near the cage, they all huddle together on
the other side of it, and if I go around to that side
they run away to the other. Same way with father.
They seem to be afraid of a man, but they don't
mind a woman a mite. Two or three times I've
been going to kill them all, but Bess begged so hard
for me to keep them that I haven't done anything.
She says she reckons she can make 'em right tame,
but that won't do no good if they're always scared
of a man."</p>
<p>"Maybe they haven't forgotten that you and
your father caught 'em," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Maybe they haven't," said Charley; "anyhow
they're awful afraid of father and me; they're doing
right well, though, growing big and sleek and handsome.
They make friends with the dogs too. Often
I see one of the dogs with his nose close up to the
bars of the pen, and the puppies all standing there
smelling at him and wagging their tails. I believe
some day I'll put on one of Bessie's dresses and go
down there and see if they won't be friendly with
me. Let's ask Hugh what we can do to tame them."
As the boys walked to the house they overtook
Hugh and put this question to him.</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know," said Hugh. "I've seen
mighty few tame wolves. Fact is, I don't know
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span>
that I ever saw any, but I've talked with men that
claimed to have had 'em, and they all said that it
wan't no use to try to tame 'em without you caught
'em when they was little bits of fellows; a good deal
smaller than these were when we caught 'em. I did
know one man that had a wolf that he said followed
him round just like a dog, but he caught that one
when it was a little mite of a thing, before it had its
eyes open. You might try starving these of yours,
Charley; not give 'em anything to eat for three or
four days, and then take some food down to 'em and
make 'em take it out of your hand; that might make
'em lose that shyness, but I don't know as it would.
Anyhow, it's worth trying. But I expect they'd make
a heap o' noise nights while you were starving 'em;
might cut your sleep short a little bit."</p>
<p>"I believe I'll try that, Hugh," said Charley,
"when we get back. They'll be kind o' used to
being fed by Tom while we're away, and maybe
they'll strike up some sort of a friendship with him,
and that'll make it easier for me when we get back."</p>
<p>"It does seem kind o' curious," said Hugh, "that
they should have taken to the gal that way."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed," said Charley; "they're just as
friendly with her as can be. You ask her to tell
you about how they act."</p>
<p>The three sat down on the grass near the kitchen
door, and Charley called to his sister, who came out
and sat down with them.</p>
<p>"Tell me about them wolf puppies of yourn, Sis,"
said Hugh; "Charley says you've made 'em right
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span>
tame to you, but they won't come near him. How
did ye do it?"</p>
<p>"Why, I don't know, Mr. Hugh," said Bess. "I
used to go down and sit by the pen and watch
them, and at first when I did that, they'd all crowd
over to the opposite side and watch me, but
after I'd been doing it a little while they seemed
to kind o' get used to me and forget that I was
there. They'd walk round and keep trying to get
out, and sometimes they'd play with each other,
just like puppies, and sometimes they'd get angry
and get to fighting. Sometimes, when Charley was
away, I used to take their food down to them, and at
last I got into the way of handing them bits of
meat in my fingers. At first they wouldn't touch it,
but after a while they got so they'd take it, and
they've been getting tamer ever since. I can put
my hand into the cage now and pat them and there
isn't one of them that will snap at me."</p>
<p>"Sho," said Hugh, "you must have a mighty
good way with animals."</p>
<p>"That's so," said Charley; "she has. Two years
ago she took a bucking colt that we had, that nobody
could ride without getting all jarred up, and commenced
to fool with it, and now it's her saddle horse,
the one she rode when she came up to-day."</p>
<p>"Sho," said Hugh; "didn't it hurt you when he
bucked with you, Sis?"</p>
<p>"Why, no, he never did buck. The first time I
got on him he went off as quiet as could be. But
I didn't try to ride him for quite a while, until after
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span>
I'd made friends with him. Then when he got right
tame, I used to take him up to the horse block and
get on it and pat him all over, and at last one day
I jumped on him and sat there for a little while and
then jumped off, and did this for a good many days,
and then I tried riding him a little way."</p>
<p>"See there now," said Hugh, "that's what it is to
understand how to treat an animal. If we had a
few girls like you, Bess, working the horses on these
prairies, there wouldn't be so many of 'em mean to
ride."</p>
<p>Before supper was ended that evening it had been
agreed that all hands should spend the next day on
the mountain, gathering raspberries, which grew
there in great abundance. It was arranged that the
women should make an early start, and with Joe as
driver should go up by the waggon road, while the
others, on saddle horses, should ride up by the
short trail. They would lunch and spend the day
on the heights, returning in time for supper in the
evening, with their berries.</p>
<p>By nine o'clock next morning, those who had
climbed the mountain by the trail were scattered
out through the raspberry patch, hard at work filling
their buckets with the delicious fruit. An hour
or two later the waggon arrived, and by midday all
the pails were filled.</p>
<p>When Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Powell began to unpack
their lunch, Hugh said to them, "If you'll wait
half an hour before calling people to eat, I'll bring
you something that you haven't seen for a long
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span>
time, and that maybe will help you out with your
drinking, if not with your eating." He called Jack
and Charley to follow, and taking a couple of gunny
sacks in his hand, strode off through the timber.
The three climbed briskly the tall rocky hill, and
emerging from the forest on to the slope above,
found themselves standing at the edge of a deep
and narrow gorge, in the bottom of which still lay a
snowdrift. "Now," said Hugh, "let's jump down
there and fill these sacks with this snow, and take
it back to the women. I know Mrs. Carter fetched
a jug of cream along, and a lot of sugar, and if we
take them back some of this clean snow, maybe she
can make some ice-cream. How would that go with
the berries, eh?"</p>
<p>"First class," said both the boys. Jumping down
into the snow they scraped away the dusty surface
and partly filled the sacks with clean white snow.
Then Hugh shouldered the heavier of the two, and
Charley Powell the lighter one and they made their
way down the hill to the party again.</p>
<p>When Mrs. Carter saw the snow she declared at
once that she would give them ice-cream for their
lunch, and before long all hands were enjoying the
unusual luxury.</p>
<p>Toward the middle of the afternoon the party
separated again, the waggon carrying the women
back by the road, while the others began slowly to
saddle up to return by the trail. Bess was the first
to mount, and set out down the mountain, closely
followed by Shep, the ranch dog, which seemed to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span>
have taken a great fancy to her. The others followed,
but had not overtaken the little girl when
suddenly they heard Shep bark furiously, and
Bessie's voice calling eagerly, "Oh, hurry, hurry!
Here's a bob-cat up in a tree."</p>
<p>Jack was the first to arrive on the scene, to find
Bess sitting on her horse, pointing up into a big
pine, at the foot of which Shep stood looking up in
great excitement, barking angrily at a wildcat that
was perched among the branches, half way up the
tree. Jack's first impulse was to shoot the brute,
but before he did so, he had a thought, and jumping
off his horse he walked up to Bessie and said,
"Wouldn't you like to shoot it, Bessie? Take my
gun if you would."</p>
<p>By this time Hugh and Charley were there, and
the latter was about to shoot at the cat with his
pistol, but Hugh said, "Hold on, boy; let's see
whether Bessie don't want to kill it."</p>
<p>Bess said, "I'd like real well to shoot it, Jack, if
you'll let me. I don't like bob-cats. This spring,
one of 'em carried off one of my setting hens, and
all the little chickens died."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "you better hop off and shoot
it; it's liable not to stay there much longer."</p>
<p>Bessie jumped to the ground and took the rifle.</p>
<p>Jack said to her, "Draw it down just as fine as
you can, and try to shoot him just back of the
shoulder and low down."</p>
<p>The little girl put the gun to her shoulder as if
she were used to it, and in a moment it rang out,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span>
and the wildcat, jumping far out from the branches,
fell to the ground and was at once pounced on by
Shep. When they walked up to it, it was quite
dead. "Now," said Jack, "we'll take him to the
ranch and skin him, and you can take the hide home
with you when you go."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "it'll make you a nice mat,
only it's a pity the fur's so thin; it ain't begun to
get good yet. Two months from now it will be
right thick and warm, but the winter coat hasn't
hardly started yet."</p>
<p>Bess felt very proud of her shot and wanted to
have the wildcat tied on behind her saddle, but
Charley said, "No, I'm afraid it might make that
horse buck, and I don't want to get you thrown off
on this side hill." Finally Hugh took the cat, and
they went on to the ranch.</p>
<p>When they reached the house Jack and Charley
skinned the cat and pegged the hide out on the
grass to dry. After this had been done, Jack took
Bess and Charley and showed them the calf elk,
which was now quite big and had lost its summer
coat and its spots. Bess admired it greatly. "It
isn't nearly as pretty," she said, "as the young
antelope, and it carries its head in a clumsy way,
but it seems strong and graceful, and isn't it tame?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "it's tame enough, and it looks
nicely enough, but it's a stupid beast; it seems to
have no sense, and not to care for anything except
just eating. I like even my ducks better than this
elk. Let's go and try to find them; they wander
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span>
about so that I never know just where they are;
but maybe we can find them somewhere along the
brook." After a good deal of searching and calling,
the ducks were discovered a long distance down the
brook. They were now as large as old birds, and
fully feathered, and were pretty, graceful little
creatures. Charley declared that the small ones
were teal, for he had killed some like them the fall
before.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "they're teal all right enough;
I looked them up in my Uncle Will's bird book.
They're what the book calls cinnamon teal. It's a
kind of duck that we don't have in the east; it only
lives out here in the Rocky Mountains and toward
the Pacific Ocean."</p>
<p>That night Bess had a fine time telling the story
of how the bob-cat had been killed. It had been started
from near to the trail by the dog, which followed
it so fast that it ran up a tree almost before Bess
saw it. Then she had called to the others.</p>
<p>As Jack was going to bed that night Mr. Sturgis
shook hands with him and said: "It was very nice
of you, Jack, to let the little girl shoot that bob-cat,
instead of doing it yourself. I like to see a boy do
a thing of that kind."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXV<br />
<span class="medium">AN ELK HUNT</span></h2>
</div>
<p>At breakfast next morning, Mr. Powell said to
Hugh: "Do you suppose you could take them two
boys up on to the mountain and kill three or four elk?
I want to talk with Mr. Sturgis to-day about getting
some of these saddle horses of his, and I'd like to go
on home to-morrow, but I want to take some meat
with me. If you and the boys can kill it, I'll stay
down here at the ranch while you're gone."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I don't know why the three
of us can't kill what you need, as well as four, and if
Mr. Sturgis hasn't anything else for me to do, I'll
take the boys up on the hill and we'll see what we
can find."</p>
<p>Mr. Sturgis told them by all means to go. Charley
got his rifle out of the wagon, Hugh and Jack
caught and saddled a couple of pack horses, and
they were soon climbing the trail.</p>
<p>When they had reached the plateau, they rode
north for three miles until they had come to a little
open park, where there was a spring and good grass.
Here they picketed out all the horses to feed, and
set out to hunt on foot. They passed through a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span>
piece of dead timber and soon came upon signs of
elk. Most of the tracks were old, and they had gone
some little distance before they saw anything showing
that game had passed along recently. The
country here became more rough and broken, and
the green timber grew in scattering clumps. As
each ridge was reached, a pause was made, and the
ravine below carefully looked over before they
showed themselves above the hill. There were great
masses of red granite and scattering pines and groves
of quaking aspens, which made good cover, but all
this ground had to be carefully looked over, so
that their advance was slow. Both Jack and Charley
had hunted enough now so that they did not talk,
or, if they spoke, they did so in very low tones.
After a time, Hugh, who was ahead, came upon a
fresh trail made by eight or ten elk, and this they
followed. The animals were moving along slowly,
but feeding as they moved. Sometimes they would
scatter out a little to nibble at the tufts of grass
growing among the rocks, or to crop the tender twigs
of the young aspens, but they did not loiter much.
The trail was fresh and showed that it had been
made within a few hours—since the sun had risen.
Hugh told the boys that they would have to go very
slowly and carefully, for they would probably come
on the game soon after noon, when it was lying
down, and that this was the worst time at which to
approach any game, for then it has nothing to do
except to watch for the approach of its enemies.</p>
<p>They followed the trail, hurrying where they
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span>
could, but being very cautious as they went over the
hills; but though the trail grew fresher, so that at
one place where they crossed a little stream, the
muddy water was still standing in the tracks of the
elk, they saw nothing of them. They had gone
down into a valley wider than most of those that
they had crossed, and were approaching the little
creek which flowed down through it. Along the
stream bed grew a narrow belt of tall pines, and
beyond this was some dead standing timber with
young pines growing among it only three or four
feet high. As the hunters approached the belt of
green timber, a stick cracked just beyond it, and, at
the same moment, something was seen to move. A
moment later, Jack, who was a little to the right of
Hugh, and behind him, saw an elk, and without a
second's delay, raised his rifle to his shoulder and
fired, and the elk hobbled off a hundred yards and
fell among some low junipers. Meantime, Hugh
and Charley had run through the belt of timber and
saw half a dozen elk among the dead trees beyond.
There were a cow and calf, a young bull and three
heifers. At the sound of Jack's gun the animals
jumped here and there, apparently unable to tell
where the noise had come from.</p>
<div><a name="raised_his_rifle_to_his_shoulder_and_fired" id="raised_his_rifle_to_his_shoulder_and_fired"></a></div>
<div class="figcenter">
<img class="mw" src="images/i003.jpg" alt="" />
<div class="caption">
<p>"RAISED HIS RIFLE TO HIS SHOULDER AND FIRED."—<i>Page <a href="#Page_256">256</a></i>.</p>
</div></div>
<p>Hugh pitched his gun to his shoulder and fired
at the bull, whose shoulder he could just see through
a narrow opening between two trees. Charley fired
at a heifer, but did not see her fall, and then, slipping
in another cartridge, he fired again at a fat cow
that was dashing along through the low brush and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span>
over the down timber at a rate that would soon
have carried her out of sight. The cow fell, and
Hugh, turning, called to the boys not to shoot
again. "We've got three elk," he said, "maybe
four; all the meat Powell wants, and all that we
can carry down the hill in one load."</p>
<p>The boys came toward him, and they started to
look over the ground to see what they had killed.
The bull was dead; so were Jack's heifer and the two
that Charley had shot at.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "we've pretty near got more
than we know what to do with, but I guess we can
take it all down, but we'll have to pack the saddle
horses. Now, son, can you go back to where the
horses are and bring them on, while Charley and I
butcher?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I'm pretty sure I can find them," replied
Jack. "I noticed which way we came and I don't
think I'll have any trouble."</p>
<p>"All right," said Hugh, "we've got quite a job
here, butchering, and I'd like to keep Charley
because he knows something about it; but if you
think you can't find the horses, you'd better stay
here and let Charley go and get 'em."</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "I'm sure I can find them, and
I'll bring them." Jack started; the distance was
greater than he had supposed, but he had watched
the country as they were following the elk trail and
he had no trouble in getting back to where the
horses were. He tied up the rope of one of the
pack animals and fastened it to the saddle, put the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span>
reins of the two saddle horses over the saddle horns,
mounted Pawnee, and, leading one pack horse, started
back toward his companions. The three loose
animals followed very well, and he had no trouble
with them, and it was not long before all five were
tied up in a little park close to where Hugh and
Charley were at work. These had butchered and
cut up the elk, and had dragged the meat up to the
edge of this park.</p>
<p>Before packing the horses, Hugh sat down and
filled his pipe. From the park where they were
sitting they could see, through an opening in the
trees, the broad valley where the ranch stood. The
wide stretch of gray, brown and yellow was marked
here and there by winding lines of vivid green,
showing the courses of the little brooks; the tiny
lakes, blue as the sky which they reflected, lay like
gems in the sombre setting. Far beyond were the
white bluffs, and again to the south the brick red
point of a tall mountain, running up to black pine-clad
ridges. It was very still. No breeze stirred
the sprays of the pines; even the leaves of the
aspens hung motionless. The air was fragrant with
the odour of pine and sage, and soft and smoky,
like an Indian summer day. It was a time for being
lazy, and Hugh smoked slowly, as if he wanted to
make his pipe last as long as possible.</p>
<p>At length it was smoked out, and he rose to his
feet, saying, "Well, I'd like to set here all day, but
we've got to get this meat to camp."</p>
<p>The heavy loads were put on the pack horses, and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span>
then, using their lariats, they slung a pair of elk hams
across the saddle of each riding animal, and, on foot,
started for the ranch.</p>
<p>"I expect, son," said Hugh, as they moved off,
"you'd have liked to bring that bull's head along."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "I thought of that. It isn't a
very big one and I didn't kill it myself, but still I
would like to save it."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "we might have brung it if
we hadn't killed so much meat, but you see these
horses now are all pretty well loaded, and we've got
some timber to go through, and an elk's head's a
mighty unhandy thing to pack, anyhow, and it ain't
a very big head, so I thought maybe we'd leave it.
You'll have plenty of chances before long to get a
better one."</p>
<p>"All right," said Jack; "but I want to get a big
head before I start back east. I'd like to get one
bigger than Uncle Will has back there; that always
looked awful big to me, and I'd feel proud if I could
kill a bigger one."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "that was a nice head. I
mind when he killed it. I expect he was pretty
proud of that, himself. Your uncle was pretty
keen to hunt when he first came out into this
country, but he don't seem to care much for it now;
except bear, he always likes to kill bear, and I
expect he likes to kill sheep, too."</p>
<p>"Tell you what it is, Jack," said Charley, "we've
got a mighty good head on top of the barn, over at
our place, and if you don't get one that suits you
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span>
before you go, if you come over, you can have that
one. We don't want it, and it's a mighty good one,
I tell you. Three or four men that's come by the
place have wanted to buy it, but father wouldn't
sell it to 'em. He'd be tickled, though, if you'd
take it. He thinks a whole lot of you."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Charley," said Jack; "maybe I'll do
it, if I don't get a good head; but I want one that
I've killed myself."</p>
<p>"Yes, of course," said Charley; "but I mean if
you don't happen to kill one."</p>
<p>They had almost reached the park, leading to
the trail, when, crossing through some dense green
timber, where the ground was wet underfoot, Hugh
stopped and said: "Come up here, son; here are
some birds you never saw before." Jack dropped
the reins of his horse and stepped up beside Hugh,
who pointed out to him four or five birds, smaller
than chickens, standing beneath a great pine, and
two or three more perched on its lower limbs.
"Those," said Hugh, "are what we call fool hens,
they're some like blue grouse, but not near so large.
They're the gentlest birds in the mountains. Just
walk up to them slowly, and see how close you can
get to them before they move."</p>
<p>Jack approached the birds with slow, cautious
steps, and not until he was within ten feet of them
did they seem to notice him; then, one or two of
them stretched up their necks and looked at him,
ruffling up the feathers about their heads in a
curious way. The birds sitting on a limb of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span>
tree still paid no attention to him, but seemed half
asleep, their necks drawn in, and their feathers
puffed out. As Jack advanced still nearer, two or
three of the birds on the ground walked away from
him, while two others sprang up into the low limbs
of the pine, and stood there with necks outstretched,
gazing at him.</p>
<p>"Now," said Hugh, "we ain't got no time now to
fool with them birds, but if we had, you could cut a
stick, and put a string with a noose on the end of it,
and drop it over their heads and catch one or two
of 'em, maybe more. That's what gives 'em their
name; they're so gentle that folks just call them
fool hens."</p>
<p>Charley, who had come up, said, "I believe if I
had a rock or two I could kill those fellows; but
there ain't no rocks here, it's all just this muck,
under foot."</p>
<p>"Oh, let 'em alone," said Hugh; "we've killed
meat enough for one day."</p>
<p>"Well," said Mr. Powell, when they reached the
ranch that night, "you youngsters have done well,
and I've got my meat without working for it. I
expect you all had a hand in this killing."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Jack, "but Charley did the best of
any of us; he killed two, and Hugh and I only got
one apiece."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "Charley done well. By rights,
though, we hadn't ought to have killed more than
one elk apiece, but I knew you wanted meat, and
there wasn't much time to talk about it when the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span>
elk jumped up. By rights I oughtn't to have shot
at all, for I might have known these boys could do
the killing, but I saw the bull, and I knew he'd be
in good order, and so I killed him; but as soon as I
saw what was down, and spoke to the boys, they
stopped right off. They're good boys to hunt
with; I don't want to see any better. I don't know
who taught Charley how to hunt, but he understands
himself pretty well."</p>
<p>The meat was hung up to cool where it would be
out of the reach of the coyotes and the next morning,
with a loaded waggon, Mr. Powell and his wife
drove off toward their ranch. Bess and Charley
stopped behind for a little while, talking with Jack,
who promised that if he could, he would ride over
to the ranch once more before he went back east.</p>
<p>At last the young people mounted and started.
Just as they did so, Jack called out: "Do the best
you can to tame those wolf puppies, Charley. I
want to take one of them east with me, if I possibly
can."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXVI<br />
<span class="medium">JACK RIDES A WILD HORSE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>Jack had noticed that the horns of the bull elk,
killed the day before by Hugh, were white and polished,
and that the rough part near the base seemed
to be full of little fragments of bark, while at the
very base, where the horns joined the head, there
were bits of dried, thin skin, and marks of blood.
He spoke to Hugh about this, and asked if these
horns were not now full grown.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "they're hard now, and the
velvet has been rubbed off, and when the velvet is
gone they don't grow no more. A bull carries his
horns until along toward spring, say in March, and
then they drop off. I expect likely your uncle has
told you how these horns grow, and I mind that you
killed a bull, yourself, along in the spring, when the
horns hadn't much more than started."</p>
<p>"Yes," answered Jack. "Uncle Will has told me
all about how the horns grow. It would be hard
to believe, if one didn't know that it was so, that
these great big horns grow in just a few months."</p>
<p>"That's what they do," said Hugh, "and as soon
as they are hard, and the velvet has been cleaned
off them, the bulls begin to travel about and gather
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span>
up their families. It's wonderful to see the way
an old bull will travel over the country, hunting it
just as careful as can be, to find cows, and when he
gets one or two or three, he rounds 'em up and
drives 'em ahead of him over the country that he's
hunting. I've watched a bull all day long, travel
along the foot of a range of high hills, going up
every ravine and hunting it out, just about as faithful
as a hunting dog would, and a few days after, I
have ridden in that same range of country and found
the same old bull, with a bunch of eighteen or twenty
cows and calves and heifers, that he'd managed to
gather up in that time."</p>
<p>"This is the time of year when they whistle, isn't
it, Hugh?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Yes, for about a month now, sometimes for
longer, you can hear 'em whistle to each other on
the hills. I expect it's a kind of a brag; one saying,
'Here I am; I'm the boss of this range,' and another,
on another hill, calling out, 'Here I am; I'm the
boss.' I've seen it where you could hear a dozen
bulls whistling at the same time. It's a mighty
nice sound when you hear it a little way off, but if
you're close to the bull that's calling, it sounds more
like a part of the neighing of a horse, and ain't nice
or pretty."</p>
<p>"Then the elk are travelling around a good deal
now, are they, Hugh?"</p>
<p>"No, not right now," said Hugh; "but in the
course of a week they'll be travelling and whistling.
Just about now the bulls are in the finest kind of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span>
order, fat as beef steers, but just as soon as they begin
to travel and hunt for cows, and fight, they begin
to lose their fat; and along about next month,
say the middle of October, they get right poor, and
ain't fit to eat. You see, at this time of the year the
bull has his work cut out for him; he's got to hunt
up cows, keep 'em together, drive off the young
bulls, and fight the old ones."</p>
<p>"Did you ever see a fight, Hugh?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Plenty of 'em," was the reply. "They charge
each other, head on, and push and push, as hard as
you ever see two range bulls push. Their horns
clatter right smart when they come together, and
there they stand, head to head, noses down, and
just shove and shove. If both of 'em are the same
size they may keep that up for an hour or two, but
if one is considerable bigger than the other, he will
push the little fellow back, slowly at first, but gradually
faster and faster, until he gets a side push on
him, and then the little fellow's got to be mighty
spry, to get out of the way before the big one hits
him with his horns."</p>
<p>"It must be great to see a fight like that," said
Jack.</p>
<p>"Well, you'd think so; two big animals and with
big horns like that, but really, it ain't much fun;
they fight so slow; there's no jumping around, no
quick work. I'd sooner see a pair of range bulls
fight; they've got more go to 'em."</p>
<p>"Still, I'd like mighty well to see it," said Jack.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "maybe we'll get to see it
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span>
before this month's over; we can't tell, though.
There's one thing I don't want to do, and that is,
to camp in among a lot of elk at this time of year;
they make so much noise with their whistling, and
their running around, and their splashing water (if
it's near a lake or a creek), a man don't get no chance
to sleep. I've seen it where I've had to get up at
night and fire my rifle in the direction of the elk to
see if I couldn't drive 'em away."</p>
<p>"Hugh, if I were to tell that at home, in the east,
I don't think people would believe me."</p>
<p>"Well, of course," said Hugh, "there's lots of
things happens out in this western country that
seems strange to people that live back east there.
I suppose they could tell me a lot of things that
happens back there that I'd find it pretty hard to
swallow."</p>
<p>Later in the day, Joe said to Jack, "Jack, you're
getting to be quite a cow puncher, but there's one
thing you ain't done yet; you ain't ridden a wild
horse."</p>
<p>"That's so, Joe; but I'm afraid my legs are pretty
short to hold on to a bucking horse."</p>
<p>"Well, yes," said Joe, "they are a little short, but
we've got a wild horse out here, or anyhow, a horse
that ain't never been ridden, that I believe you
could ride. Don't you want to try it now, and surprise
your uncle and the old man?"</p>
<p>"Why, of course, Joe; I'd like to do that, if I
thought I could stick on, but I wouldn't like to get
thrown off."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span>
"Well, now look here," said Joe, "you know that
orphan colt? He's coming three years old, and he's
just as tame as tame can be. Let's you and me get
him into the corral and put a saddle on him, anyhow,
and see what he does. I don't believe he'll be
a mite afraid of the saddle, and I expect he'd carry
you right off as gentle as can be. You'd feel kind
of good if you could ride him up to the house and
show him to your uncle and Hugh, and say that
you'd broke him yourself."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, Joe, that would be fine; I'd like
that, sure."</p>
<p>"Well, let's go down and try him now; he's over
there in the pasture, and we can get him in and
saddle him up, anyhow."</p>
<p>They had no trouble whatever in getting the orphan
into the corral. His mother had died when he
was a little fellow, and he had been reared by hand.
After he was in the corral they walked up to him
and put a rope about his neck, and led him back and
forth. Then Joe got Jack's saddle and bridle, and
both were put on the colt without any trouble. He
stood perfectly still, but, as the cinch was being
drawn tight, he turned his head and looked back at
himself, as if he wondered what in the world they
were trying to do with him. After the saddle had
been put on, he was led up and down, and although
he walked awkwardly, he still made no signs of
giving trouble.</p>
<p>"Now," said Joe, "I know he ain't going to do
anything. If you like, I'll get on him and ride him
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span>
round a little bit, myself, just to see how he acts,
but of course if I do that then you can't say you
were the first man to mount him."</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "he seems quiet; I'll get on
him, myself; but let's take him out of the corral
and on to the grass, where it will be softer if he
throws me."</p>
<p>"All right," said Joe; and they led the colt to
the gate and out on to the smooth, level flat, where
the sod was soft and springy.</p>
<p>"Now," said Joe, "you can mount here, if you
want to, or maybe I'd better run him about a little,
so that he can feel the string and stirrups flapping
against his sides, and get used to 'em."</p>
<p>Joe ran a quarter of a mile down the valley, leading
the horse, which galloped after him quietly
enough, except that now and then, when one of the
stirrups knocked hard against his side, he pranced
and sheered off to one side. When Joe reached
Jack again, he said: "He's as awkward as can be,
and don't know nothing. Of course, he may throw
you, or he may fall with you, but I don't believe he
will. You better try him anyhow. Get on, and I'll
try and keep along with you. Just start in slowly at
first." Jack mounted, and the horse stood perfectly
still. He kept on standing still, for when Jack lifted
the bridle and clucked to him, and stuck his heels
into his ribs, the colt, not knowing what these signs
meant, did not move.</p>
<p>"Hold on," said Joe, "I'll hit him behind with
the rope; maybe that'll start him." He did so, and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span>
the horse took a jump or two forward, and then
again stood fast.</p>
<p>"I'll tell you what we've got to do," said Joe;
"I'll have to lead him for a while."</p>
<p>"That'll be a queer sort of horse-breaking," said
Jack; "me sitting on the horse and you leading
him around."</p>
<p>"Never you mind," said Joe; "it ain't breaking
this horse needs, it's education, but he needs that a
whole lot."</p>
<p>He put the rope around the horse's neck, and
when Jack again lifted his bridle rein, and dug his
heels into the animal's ribs, Joe pulled on the rope,
and the colt started. This was repeated a good
many times, and at last the orphan seemed to realize
something of what was wanted of him, and Jack
found that he could ride him about the flat at a
walk, without difficulty. By this time he was feeling
quite at home on the colt's back, and wanted to
go faster, and once, when the horse was walking, he
said:</p>
<p>"Now, Joe, I'm going to try to start him into a
lope, so when I stick my heels into his side, you hit
him with the rope."</p>
<p>Joe did so, and the colt started off at a clumsy
gallop, but as he was not in the least bridle wise,
Jack could not guide him, and in a moment he
stepped with his right forefoot into a little washout
and awkwardly enough fell over onto his right side,
and lay there. His fall was so slow that if Jack had
been a practiced horseman he could readily have
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span>
sprung off, alighting on his feet, but he was not
quick enough, and the horse fell upon the boy's
right leg. Happily the ground was soft, and the
large wooden stirrup kept the horse's body from
pressing heavily on the confined leg. Joe was beside
Jack in a moment, asking him if he were hurt,
to which Jack replied:</p>
<p>"Not a bit."</p>
<p>"Can you get your leg out? Is the horse lying
on it?" said Joe.</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "he's lying on it a little, but I
think maybe I can work it out."</p>
<p>"Don't try for a minute," said Joe, "wait till I
lift on the horn of the saddle." He took the horn in
both hands, and lifting on it, raised the horse's
body slowly, and Jack drew out his leg and stood
up. Joe kicked the horse angrily, saying: "Get
up, you fool brute," and the orphan rose to his feet.</p>
<p>"I'm mighty sorry he fell with you," said Joe,
"but I'm mighty glad he didn't hurt you. Now,
you wait here a moment until I go and get a quirt,
and I'll get on that horse and teach him how to
move."</p>
<p>"You go and get the quirt," said Jack, "and I'll
get on the horse, and I think I can make him move.
All he needs, I guess, is to be made to understand
what is wanted of him."</p>
<p>With the quirt in his right hand, Jack mounted
again, and again put the horse into a gallop, watching
the ground ahead of him, and doing his best to
guide him where it was smooth. In a half or three
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span>
quarters of an hour the orphan had greatly improved
in his method of travelling, and really seemed
to understand what it was to carry a rider. A little
later Mr. Sturgis and Hugh came riding over the
hills, and when they reached the flat, Jack rode up
to them on the orphan, and said to his uncle:</p>
<p>"You don't want to hire anybody to bust broncos
for you, do you, Mr. Sturgis?"</p>
<p>"Why, Jack, what are you doing on the orphan?
I didn't know that he'd ever had a saddle on him."</p>
<p>"He never did until this afternoon," said Joe,
"but this new cowboy of ours thought he'd make
a good saddle horse, and he's been riding him.
He stayed with him good, you bet. The horse
throwed himself once, but that didn't make a mite
of difference to Jack, he just made the horse get up,
and got on him, and put the quirt on to him, and
rode him all over the flat."</p>
<p>"Well, my boy," said Mr. Sturgis, "I'm glad you
had the pluck to try this fellow, and if he makes a
good horse, I think we'll have to give him to you."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Uncle Will," said Jack, "that will
be pretty fine to have a horse that's really my own."</p>
<p>They were still talking, when suddenly Hugh
said, "By George! there's old John coming back,"
and looking toward the hill, they saw a rider, followed
by two pack horses, coming down toward the
ranch. It was John Monroe. He had left his
daughter's home more than a week before, and was
now on his way back to the north.</p>
<p>All at the ranch were glad to see him, and he, on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span>
his part, seemed delighted to meet them all again.
He unpacked his horses at the bunk house, and
turned them all loose, as if he expected to stay here
for some time.</p>
<p>That evening Jack questioned him about the distance
that he would have to travel before he reached
his home. John said he didn't know how many miles
it was, but he thought it would take him about twenty-five
days' travel to reach the Piegan camp. Just
where this camp would be he could not tell, but it
would not be difficult to find, after he had come to
the country in which the tribe ranged. He said
that perhaps it might take longer if the weather
should be bad, or if enemies should be met with who
might try to take his horses, or even to kill him,
but neither of these things was likely to happen.
The season of the year promised good weather, and
enemies could surely be avoided by watchfulness
and care.</p>
<p>Hugh and John had much to say to each other
about the doings of the old days, and the more Jack
heard of their talk, the more eager he became to
see something of this strange life, which seemed to
him so much more wild, and so much more natural
than even the life on the ranch.</p>
<p>John Monroe stayed at the ranch for ten days,
before continuing his journey toward his northern
home. Before he left he invited Hugh and Jack to
come north the next summer and visit the Piegan
tribe. He told Jack much about the summer life of
these Indians, and assured him that if he would visit
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span>
them he would be made welcome, not only by him,
but by the whole tribe, and that, if he travelled
about with them in their journeys after the buffalo,
on which they subsisted, he would see a great deal
that would be new and strange to him that he would
enjoy. Jack was, of course, crazy to go. He even
wanted to start now and spend the winter with the
tribe, but Mr. Sturgis very positively vetoed any such
proposition, although he said he thought it would
be very good for Jack to make the trip next summer,
if he could get away from the east for the
length of time required for the trip. So when the
time came for John's departure, they shook hands
in the hope of meeting again another season.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXVII<br />
<span class="medium">A MYSTERIOUS CAVE</span></h2>
</div>
<p>"Son, these blue grouse are getting to be a pretty
good size now; why don't you take your rifle, or
maybe your uncle's shot gun, and go out and try and
get a mess this morning?" said Hugh to Jack.
They were down at the barn saddling up. Hugh
was going into town to get the mail, and Jack was
at a loss what to do with himself during the two
days of Hugh's absence.</p>
<p>"Where had I better go, Hugh? Up on the
mountain?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"No," said Hugh, "you'll find the old hens and
their broods along the little creeks, right close up
to the mountain, but not high up on it. I wouldn't
be a mite surprised if you could get quite a few
birds right up on the heads of the creeks that run
down through the pasture. But say; there's one
thing you want to remember; if you take your rifle
with you, only heads counts."</p>
<p>"What do you mean by that, Hugh?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Why," said Hugh, "if you shoot with your rifle
at one of them little birds, and hit it in the body,
there ain't nothing left except a few feathers. You'll
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span>
spoil all the meat. So I want you to shoot the
heads off all the birds you see; don't aim at the
bodies at all. Fire at the heads, or, if they have
got their necks stretched up, aim at the neck, just
below the head. You needn't be afraid that you'll
lose many shots that way. Young birds are right
gentle, and they'll let you fire half a dozen shots at
'em, and won't move without they're hit. Of course
it would be better if you had one of them little pea
rifles, that don't make no noise and shoot a mighty
small ball, but your gun will do, and it's pretty good
practice shooting the heads off grouse; you get to
learn just when to pull your gun off. You have to
get up pretty close to the birds, but they'll let you
do that. Draw your sight down right fine, and aim
at the neck, just under the head. You'll get so after
a little that you can knock 'em every time."</p>
<p>Hugh finished saddling, rode up to the house,
tied his bundle of mail behind his saddle and trotted
off over the hills; while Jack filled his belt with
cartridges, and then, mounting Pawnee, rode off
toward the mountain.</p>
<p>Before long he passed down into the valley of a
little brook, and followed it up, looking among the
willows and along the hillside, to see if he could discover
any birds. He had not gone far before he
noticed above him, on the hillside, some small moving
objects, which he soon made out to be young
sage grouse. These were not just what he was
after, but he thought they would do to practice on,
and dismounting and throwing down his horse's
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span>
rein, he walked toward them. In the brood there
were eight or ten birds, about as large as hens, all
keeping quite close together, and following their
much larger mother. They paid no attention to
him, and he walked up to within fifteen or twenty
yards, and stood watching them, before beginning
to shoot. They made their way slowly along the
hillside, feeding as they went. Now and then one
of them would run wildly about, chasing a grasshopper
here and there, and at length capturing it,
and sometimes two or three followed the same
insect. As they walked along, they kept calling to
each other with faint peeping cries, and if one got
off a little to one side of the group, he soon turned
and ran back to it.</p>
<p>It was rather pleasant to watch them, but Jack
had come out to kill some birds, and, putting a
cartridge into his gun, he made ready to shoot. At
first they did not stand still long enough for him to
catch sight on one, but he walked along slowly after
them, and presently one of the grouse stretched up
his neck and stood looking. Jack fired at it, and
the bird fell to the ground, while all the others
stretched their necks to their fullest lengths, and
looked about to see what had made the noise. Before
he could reload and fire again, they had resumed
their feeding and moved on. Before long, however,
he had another shot, but this time he missed.
Again the birds looked about, and again started on.
At his third shot the bird fired at, instead of dropping
at once, made a great fluttering, and immediately
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span>
the whole brood took wing and flew off over
the ridge and were not seen again. Jack's first shot
had been a capital one, cutting the bird's neck just
below the head. His third shot had been too low,
and had not killed the bird at once, and its fluttering
and flouncing over the ground had frightened
the others.</p>
<p>He tied the two grouse to his saddle and went
on along the mountain side. Nothing was seen on
the next two streams that he crossed, but as he
looked down into the valley of the third, he saw,
quite a long way off, something that at once arrested
his attention. Down in the flat was a coyote,
jumping and prancing about, as if in great excitement,
and quite close to it, sometimes standing
still, and again running toward the coyote, which
retreated, was a badger. For two or three minutes
Jack sat there watching them, wondering what they
could be doing, but the strange game—if it was a
game—was kept up. He determined that he would
get off and watch; so leaving his horse behind the
hill, he crept up to its crest and lay there, to try to
discover what the animals were doing.</p>
<p>Sometimes the coyote ran very fast, almost up to
the badger, which, in turn, ran toward the coyote,
which then retreated, and when the badger had
stopped his advance, the coyote lay down, rested his
head on his paws, waved his tail from side to side,
and sometimes rolled over. The badger then
started to walk off, but before he had gone far the
coyote got on his legs again and recommenced his
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span>
play. This continued for quite a long time, during
which the animals worked further and further away
from Jack. The badger seemed to be trying to
cross the valley and go up onto the next hillside,
and the coyote seemed to be teasing him. It was
rather a mysterious performance to Jack, and he
determined that he would ask Hugh whether he had
ever seen anything like it, and what it meant.
When the two animals had got so far from him that
he could no longer see them distinctly, he went
back to his horse, mounted and rode on. As soon
as the coyote saw him, he left the badger and ran
up on the hill, where he watched Jack for a few
moments, and then went off, while the badger
trotted briskly along up on the hillside, and presently
disappeared in a hole.</p>
<p>In a ravine not far beyond this Jack found his first
brood of blue grouse. The birds were half grown,
and he rode in among them before seeing them.
They flew up the ravine, but he saw where some of
them alighted, and, riding on until he was near the
spot, he dismounted again. He walked along very
cautiously, looking everywhere on the ground for the
birds, but before he saw them, two rose, with a great
fluttering of wings, almost beneath his feet, and
flew on further up the ravine. He had been looking
so carefully for these birds that he felt sure that they
must be hiding, and not walking along, for if they
had been moving he would certainly have seen them.
A few steps further on, his eye suddenly caught a
brown shape on the grey ground, which in an instant
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span>
he saw was a grouse, crouching flat on the soil, its
head and tail pressed against it, and its bright brown
eye closely watching him. He slowly raised his
rifle to his shoulder, and firing very carefully, cut off
its head. A little further on, two that he had not
seen flew, and then he saw another in the ground,
but it flew before he had time to shoot. Then he
saw another and raising his rifle just as he saw its
shape, he pulled the trigger the instant his eye fell full
upon it. It occurred to him now that the birds
were watching him all the time, and that as soon as
they caught his eye they realised that they were seen,
and flew away. In this, Jack was quite right, for
often one's face may be turned full toward a hiding
bird, and one may all look around it without its
moving, but if he looks fairly at its eye, the bird is
almost sure to flush. Before long he had four of the
young blue grouse, and going back to his horse, he
mounted again.</p>
<p>By this time the morning was pretty well gone,
and he hesitated whether to go home for dinner, or
to spend the afternoon here beneath the cliffs.
Finally he determined to ride up the ravine a little
further, on the chance of seeing more of this scattered
brood, and then, if he did not find any, to go
home.</p>
<p>Following up the valley a short distance, a grouse
rose under Pawnee's feet, and flew up the hillside,
alighting among some low pines that grew at the
very base of the cliff. Jack thought the bird
might have gone into a tree, and clambered up on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span>
the chance of getting a shot. When he reached the
pines he could not find the bird, and after looking
for it a little while, he sat down to rest, and to
watch some little striped squirrels that were playing
among the rocks just above him. While he sat
watching the squirrels, he suddenly heard a rushing
sound, so close to his ear that he dodged, and a
great hawk, with long tail and sharp pointed wings,
darted over one of the squirrels, and in an instant
rose in the air with the tiny creature in its talons. It
had happened so quickly that Jack hardly realised
the squirrel's capture until he saw the hawk rise, and
with a few strong strokes of its wings, swing up and
alight on a shelf of the cliff, above the tops of the
tall pines that grew on the hillside. Here the blue
rock was stained white, and Jack made up his mind
that the hawk had a nest there. He determined to
climb up and see if he could not get to it, and learn
what was in it. There might be young birds, and
these would make capital pets if they could be tamed.
It seemed a long way up to where the hawk sat, and
the cliff looked sheer as a wall, but here and there
were crevices and places where the water had worn
away the rock, and he thought that perhaps he could
get up to the nest.</p>
<p>The climb to the base of the cliff was long and
slow. When he reached it he saw that it would be
impossible to get far up if he carried his gun with
him, so he left it here, resting against a rock, and
clambered up toward the nest for thirty or forty
feet, and then he reached a place where he could
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span>
get no further. But a little below, he had passed a
narrow shelf, running out to one side, and going
down to this, he made his way very carefully under
the cliff to a crevice, up which he worked a short
distance, and then this ran out and ended in a bare,
smooth wall. He would have to give it up: the
nest could not be reached. He thought it would be
shorter and easier to follow the crevice down to the
steep hillside at the foot of the cliff, instead of going
back along the shelf, as he had come. Going
down was easy, until he had almost reached the foot
of the wall, and could see, five or six feet below him,
ground on which he could walk. Here the crevice
ended. It was rather a long jump down to the
ground, and that sloped off so sharply that he did
not feel sure that if he jumped he could stop himself.
He turned around, therefore, and let himself
down backward, feeling with his toes for some little
knob of rock on which to rest his feet, but, as he let
himself down the rock all seemed smooth, and he
could find no foothold. He was now clinging by
the ends of his fingers to the rock above, too far
down to draw himself up again, and yet with his
feet a foot or more above the ground. There was
nothing for it but to let himself go, and he dropped.
The slope which his feet struck was too steep for a
foothold. He fell over backward, and rolled thirty
or forty feet down the slope, bringing up in a clump
of bushes.</p>
<p>Jack was a little shaken and bruised by his roll,
but not hurt. He picked himself up and looked
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span>
back at the way he had come, and congratulated
himself that it had been no worse. He started to
climb up the slope again to get his gun, but first it
was necessary that he should get out of the brush
into which he had rolled. To his right there seemed
a place where the bushes were thinner than those
over which he had passed on his way down, and he
turned in this direction to make the ascent. He
had gone only a few steps when he stopped, for
there before him was a great dark hole in the side
of the hill. It was shaped almost like a door, high,
and not very wide, and within all seemed black.
Grass and bushes grew up in the entrance, and
there was no sign that anything ever passed in
or out.</p>
<p>This hole looked rather mysterious to Jack, and
he wondered what there could be in it. He walked
up to it and looked as hard as he could into the
blackness, but he could see nothing. He wanted
very much to go in, yet it was useless to do so unless
he could see something when he got there. "If
I only had a lantern now," thought Jack, "or even
a candle, I could go in and see what is there. I'll
bet no one at the ranch knows of this cave, and I'd
like to find out all about it and tell them. That
would be a good story to take back." He thought
for awhile, and decided that he must make a torch;
but what could he make it of? For a little while
he could think of nothing to use. He remembered
that in the books that he had read, people had always
had birch bark for torches, or fat with which
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span>
to make candles, but he had neither. Then he
thought of pine torches of which he had read. There
were plenty of pines growing here on the mountain,
but nothing that he could make a torch of. Suddenly
he remembered that dried pine needles burn
brightly, though only for a little while, and that on
the ground not far from here he had seen a half
dozen pine limbs, twisted off from one of the trees
in some heavy wind storm. He thought if he could
tie a good many bunches of these needles together,
they would make a torch for him. He crept out of
the underbrush and saw near by several of these
pine limbs, with the dried red needles on them,
and he picked a number of the bunches. Now he
needed some string. "If I only had Pawnee here,"
he thought, "I could take the strings from my
saddle;" but Pawnee was feeding far below him in
the valley. As he cast his eye about him, in perplexity,
he saw a yucca plant growing on the slope,
and he remembered what Hugh had told him about
using the fibre of this plant for thread. He climbed
up to it, cut off a number of the long bayonet-shaped
leaves, selected a straight dead stick, and
went back to his pile of pine needles. Splitting the
tough leaves of the yucca, he found that they could
be used as strings, and with these strings he bound his
bunches of pine needles, one beneath the other, to
the stick, and soon had what he thought might perhaps
serve him as a torch. Going back to the mouth
of the cave, he again looked into it, and listened, but
all was darkness and silence. He parted the low
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span>
growing bushes at the entrance, and stepped in, and
then, lighting a match, touched it to the top of his
torch. The bunch of pine needles flared up for two
or three seconds, and then went out, but the light was
enough to show that for six or eight feet further in
there was a smooth floor to the cave, paved with small
stones. The walls above and on either side seemed
high. A second match, touched to another bunch
of pine needles, gave another flame, lasting only an
instant. Plainly, the torch would not burn from
the top downward. The only thing to do was to
light it below, and let the flames run up the stick.
Jack lighted another match, took two or three steps
forward, and then touched the torch at its lower
part. The pine needles flared up, the flame caught
the next bunch above, and then the next. Jack
could see on the ground before him some feathers,
a half dozen slender sticks, and, far back, raised
above the floor of the cave, was a pale, dim thing.
There was a whirring sound, something struck his
hat, something else struck the torch, he dropped it,
and it went out.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII<br />
<span class="medium">WHAT THE CAVE HELD</span></h2>
</div>
<p>There was something alive in the cave, and Jack
did not wait to see what it was. With two or three
long jumps he passed out of the entrance and stood
again among the underbrush, through which the
bright sun was sending down its long sheaves of
light. Nothing more happened, and as he looked
back into the cave it was all quiet there. He was
breathing fast, startled and excited, yet not exactly
frightened, and when he reached the open air and
had recovered from his start, he felt curious to know
what had made the strange noise and what had hit
him. It did not seem that it could be anything
very terrible, for if it had been, it would have struck
him harder and made more noise. He looked back
into the cave, but the darkness gave no answer to
the question in his mind. He could see two or
three tiny sparks faintly glowing, which went out
one by one as he watched them. This was the remains
of his torch. He wondered what that dim
pale shape could be, that he had seen for an instant,
but too indistinctly to tell what it was. Though
he was anxious to know more about the cave, he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span>
did not feel like venturing into it again without a
light, and he determined to go home and tell his
uncle, and, in a day or two to return, better prepared
for the investigation.</p>
<p>His mind was so full of what he had seen that he
started down the hill toward his horse, altogether
forgetting his gun, and when he remembered it, he
had a long climb back to recover it.</p>
<p>It was the middle of the afternoon before he
reached the house, and there was no one about
to whom he could talk of his adventure except Mrs.
Carter. To her he told his story, but she could
throw no light on the matter, nor, indeed, could his
uncle when he consulted him at supper.</p>
<p>"Why, Jack," said he; "that is very interesting,
and you were lucky to find such a place. It was
pretty keen of you too, to think of making the torch
as you did. I fancy it would have served you better
though, if you had put some wads of grass with
your pine needles. It would have burned more
slowly and steadily, and would have given you a
pretty fair light. I do not wonder that you wanted
to get out of the cave when you heard that noise
and were hit. Were you much scared?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I guess I was, Uncle Will. My heart was
beating hard when I got out, but the light seemed
to cool me down right off. That's queer, isn't
it?"</p>
<p>"Oh, I don't know," said his uncle; "it seems to
me very natural. Wait till Hugh gets back, Jack,
and then we three will go up on the hill, with plenty
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span>
of lights, and will see what there is in the cave, and
where it goes to." With this, Jack was forced to be
content.</p>
<p>During the next two days Jack thought a great
deal about the cave, and on the evening of the
second day, when Hugh returned from town, Jack
met him at the barn, and while he was unsaddling,
poured into his ear the tale of his discovery.</p>
<p>Hugh seemed much impressed, but ventured no
opinion, though he asked a number of questions.
"What did the thing feel like that hit you on the
head, son?" said he.</p>
<p>"Why, it was something soft, and not very big.
It just hit my hat a light blow, not much more than
enough to dent it in, I should think, but there was
the queerest noise at the same time that I ever
heard. I don't know how to describe it. It was
like something moving quickly through the air.
Just the faintest sound you can think of, but it
seemed close to my ear."</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "I reckon you're a great
hand to have things happen to you. Now ain't it a
queer thing that you should just about roll into this
place, and me live about here all these years and
never know that it was there. You done well to
make the light you did, and to go in like you did.
It kind o' makes a man go slow to see everything
black ahead of him. We'll know to-morrow what
there is there, unless your uncle wants me to do
something else."</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "I'm sure he don't, for he said
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span>
that we'd all three go up there together and find out
what there is in the cave."</p>
<p>"All right," said Hugh, "that will suit me first
class. I expect when we get there maybe we won't
find anything very strange, and then again, maybe
we will. Caves ain't very common in this country,
but I've seen a good many of 'em; some of 'em where
the Indians have been in, and drawed all kinds of
pictures on the walls. And then away south-west
of here, up in the mountains, there's lots of caves
that the Indians used to live in. Some of 'em are
away high up on the cliffs, right hard places to get
to, but those Indians lived there, and you can see
their bed places, and where they have had their
fires, and sometimes you'll find the pots that they
used to cook in, and everywhere, all about, there's
lots of pieces of broken pots. But all that was a
long time ago. I expect the Indians that lived
down on the prairie, at the foot of these cliffs, were
likely hostile, and the fellows that had their houses
up in the caves lived there so's to get away from
them that was down on the plains. I reckon you've
heard tell of the Pueblo people that live down there
yet. They live in regular houses, built of 'dobes.
Some of them houses are like three or four built on
top of each other, and they haven't got a door nor a
window on the outside. They climb up into 'em by
ladders, that they haul up after 'em, and then they're
just like they was in a fort. I expect they got to
building them houses because people were hazing
them, and they had to have protection, nights."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span>
After breakfast next morning the three started
for the cave, carrying two lanterns and some candles.
When they came to the place where Jack had seen
the badger and the coyote, he told Hugh about it,
and asked him what sort of a game these two
animals were playing. Mr. Sturgis laughed when
the question was asked, and Hugh smiled, too.
"Son," he said, "your uncle, here, asked me that
same question about six years ago, when he first
saw a badger and a coyote acting that way. I have
seen it a heap of times, and I'll tell you what I
believe it means. You know, in these days, since
there ain't no buffalo, any more, the coyotes are
pretty nearly always hungry. I believe that a
coyote sometimes, when he finds a badger out on the
prairie, just keeps a-bothering him and a-bothering
him until he gets the badger right mad, and gets
him so he wants to fight. You know, a badger ain't
a very good-tempered animal, nohow. Well, after
the coyote has pestered him a while, the badger
gets so cross that he just wants to get hold of that
coyote, and the coyote keeps pretty close to him,
and the badger keeps following him, and so the
coyote leads him along, until presently maybe he
runs across two or three other coyotes, and then
they all pitch into the badger and kill him, and eat
him."</p>
<p>"That seems mighty queer, Hugh," said Jack.
"I didn't suppose a coyote knew enough to make
a plan like that."</p>
<p>"Well, of course," said Hugh, "I don't know that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span>
it is so; no coyote ever told me that it was, but I've
seen them acting that way often, and I can't think of
no other meaning to it except that. But a coyote
is smart enough to do that, or most anything else.
It may be that the coyote just enjoys teasing the
badger, and making him fighting mad, but if that
was so, I wouldn't look to see the thing happen as
often as it does. A coyote's got a heap of meanness
in him, though; I've seen a couple of 'em spend an
hour or two just bothering a big wolf, and I'm certain
they did that just for the fun of it. The wolf
was crossing a big sheet of ice, where a creek had
overflowed, and it was pretty slippery, and he could
not handle himself very well, nor turn quick. One
of the coyotes would run pretty close in front of
him, and the wolf would make a grab at him, and
while he was doing that, the other coyote would run
up behind him and nip him. Why, them two little
rascals had a heap of fun with that big wolf before
he got off the ice and on to the bare ground, where
he had a good footing."</p>
<p>Before long they reached the place where Jack
told them they must leave their horses, and then
they started up the hill. Hugh said, "We'd better
all take our ropes with us; we don't know but what
we might need 'em when we get up there." They
clambered up the steep ascent, Jack in advance,
and feeling quite important at the thought that he
was now acting as guide for Hugh and his uncle.
Once, when they stopped to rest, he pointed out
where the hawk's nest was, and showed them
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span>
where he had rolled down the hill and into the
bushes.</p>
<p>"It's a wonder you didn't break your neck," said
his uncle.</p>
<p>"Well," said Hugh, "it would be a wonder if we
didn't know that boys are all the time getting into
scrapes, where a grown man would be killed, and the
boys come out of it without even getting scratched
up." As he said this he looked hard at Jack, who
thought he must be referring to his scrape with the
mountain lion.</p>
<p>It was not long before they were all standing in
the brush, at the entrance to the cave.</p>
<p>"Well," said Mr. Sturgis, as he peered into the
opening, "it's black enough in there, certainly."</p>
<p>"Dark as a wolf's mouth," said Hugh.</p>
<p>They lighted the two lanterns, and giving Jack a
candle, they prepared to go in.</p>
<p>"Do you want to lead the way, Jack?" said his
uncle, "or shall one of us go first?"</p>
<p>"No," said Jack, "I'd like to be first to go in.
You know, I feel as if this cave belonged to me."</p>
<p>"That's right, son," said Hugh; "you're the
leader of this party. Go right in, and we'll follow
you. Only I don't want you to go too fast, or too
far ahead. I've seen these caves sometimes where
there's a big drop off in the bottom, and I'd hate
almightily to be following you and see you fall off
into a big hole. You go ahead, but go mighty slow,
and we'll be right close behind you. You two
might leave your guns out here, I don't reckon
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span>
there's nothing to hurt anybody inside. I don't
see no signs where anybody has been in this cave
this season, except where son walked the other
day."</p>
<p>Mr. Sturgis and Jack left their guns here, but
Hugh retained his. Then the three went into the
cave, Jack a little in advance. They had made only
two or three steps into it when Jack again heard the
queer whirring noise, and saw Hugh suddenly strike
at something with his hand, and then heard a faint,
squeaking cry, and a sound as of something soft
striking the ground.</p>
<p>"There's what hit you," said Hugh.</p>
<p>"Oh, what is it?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Bats," said Hugh. "I suspicioned it was them,
from what you said, but I wan't certain. They
can't do no harm, but look here!" and Hugh
stooped and picked up two or three feathers, and
one of the slender sticks that Jack had noticed the
day before, and said: "This has been a sacred place
for the Indians. See these presents? These are
eagle feathers, and here are a lot of arrows that have
been given, maybe, to the Sun."</p>
<p>"But those look pretty old, Hugh," said Mr.
Sturgis.</p>
<p>"Yes," was the reply, "these were left here a long
time ago. Don't ye see they've got stone points?
This here arrow looks like a Cheyenne arrow, but
it's old."</p>
<p>"There, Uncle Will!" said Jack, interrupting,
"There's that white thing. Let's see what that is."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span>
They moved forward a little, very slowly, and
in a moment saw that the cave was a small one, not
more than forty feet long. On a bed of stones,
raised above the floor lay a whitish bundle, about
three feet long and two wide, tied up with leather
thongs.</p>
<p>"Ha!" said Hugh.</p>
<p>"What is it, Hugh?" said Jack.</p>
<p>"Why don't you see?" said Hugh. "This here
cave is a grave and that's the body of a person that
was buried here."</p>
<p>"It must have been a little bit of a child, then,"
said Jack.</p>
<p>"Not so," Hugh answered, "that's a grown person,
either a man or a woman. That's the way they
tie 'em up in bundles when they bury 'em. I expect
that Indian was put here a long time ago." Hugh
put down his lantern, bent forward and took hold
of the bundle by either end, and lifted it from the
ground. It seemed to weigh very little, and as he
replaced it on its bed of stones, he repeated, "A
long time ago. Why, that bundle don't weigh
nothing. There can't be nothing in it except just
the very driest kind of bones, and that hide that it's
wrapped in is just like paper; when I lifted it, my
fingers went right through it."</p>
<p>Jack stared at the bundle, wondering how long it
had been here, who it had been, and thinking of the
life that it had led so long ago. Meantime, the
other two had turned aside and were looking about
the cave, which was only ten or twelve feet wide.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span>
Hugh picked up an earthenware pot, which stood
at one end of the bed of stones, and calling Jack,
showed it to him. By the light of the lantern it
seemed to be dark red and grey, and it had once held
something, as its sides and bottom, within, were
dark with crusted dust. "I expect when they
buried this fellow," said Hugh, "they left some
grub for him to eat, in this pot." Near the pot,
but resting on the floor of the cave, was a small sack
made of what seemed like leather. This, when Jack
felt of it, seemed heavy. The covering was hard
and dry.</p>
<p>On the walls at either side of the cave were
scratched in the rock, rude figures of men, a great
circle with lines starting out from it, which Hugh
said meant the Sun, and a rude figure of a bird with
a great hooked beak—the Thunder Bird.</p>
<p>After they had satisfied their curiosity, Mr.
Sturgis and Hugh turned to go, but Jack lingered
behind. "Oh, Hugh," he called, "can't we take
this bundle with us? I'm sure it would be a greater
curiosity, back east, than the mummies from Egypt
that I have seen in the museum there."</p>
<p>"Well now, son," said Hugh, "I don't reckon I'd
bother that fellow, if I was you. Fetch the pot and
that little sack along with you, if you want 'em, and
then come out here in the sunshine, and we'll talk
about it." They sat down by the mouth of the
cave, and Hugh and Mr. Sturgis filled their
pipes.</p>
<p>"Now, look here, son," said Hugh, "how would
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span>
you like it if some day some fellow was to come
along to the place where your great-great-grandfather
had been buried, and should talk about carrying
off his bones for a curiosity?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Jack, "I don't suppose I'd like it
very much."</p>
<p>"I don't expect you would," said Hugh, "and
the Indians feel the same way about their dead
grandfathers that you might feel about yours. You
don't want that bundle in there for anything except
because it's a curiosity, and if I was you, I wouldn't
bother it. It can't do no one any harm for you to
take these other things; they're real curiosities, because
they're the old-time things the Indians used
to make and use; but I wouldn't bother them bones.
Let's see what you've got."</p>
<p>They opened the sack carefully, but the covering
of hide tore to pieces as they tried to unwrap it.
Hugh spread out his coat, so that nothing might be
lost and all bent eagerly forward to see what the
relics might be. The largest thing was a great pipe
made of black carved stone; then there were eight
arrow heads of black, white and brown flint, finely
worked, and one smaller piece of flint, shaped a little
like an arrow head, but which Hugh said was used
in painting skins.</p>
<p>When they were all unwrapped, Hugh said:
"There, son, you've sure got some real old relics,
now. I don't know as I ever see a nicer lot of
arrow points, and I'm sure I never see a pipe like
that. Them things is mighty old. I wouldn't be a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span>
mite surprised if that fellow died before America
was discovered."</p>
<p>Jack was delighted with the find. He still felt
that he would like to have the bundle, and, above
all, would like to know what there was inside of
it, but he made up his mind that it was better to do
as Hugh had said. After they had reached their
horses, he wrapped the pot carefully up in his coat
and tied it to the horn of his saddle, and all the
way home he rode with his hand on it, so that it
should not be jarred and broken.</p>
<p>When they reached home he spread his trophies
out on the kitchen table to show to Mrs. Carter,
and said to her, "Won't these make a great show in
my room in New York?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span></p>
<div class="header">
<h2>CHAPTER XXIX<br />
<span class="medium">SWIFTFOOT IN NEW YORK</span></h2>
</div>
<p>At last the time approached when Mr. Sturgis
and Jack were to leave the ranch and take their
departure for the distant east. The weather had
long been growing cooler, and was now cold. The
leaves of the aspens had turned yellow, and one by
one had loosed their holds upon the trees, and
twirled slowly toward the ground. The bull elk
had ceased whistling. The deer had taken on their
winter coats. The lake was frozen, and the migrating
ducks and geese had gone. Snow storms
were more frequent, and often the ground was
white for days at a time, until some interval of
mild weather melted the snow again.</p>
<p>One day, some weeks after the Powells' last visit,
Charley had driven over in the waggon and brought
Jack a wolf puppy, now large and well grown. It
was a great grey animal, heavily coated, sleek,
smooth, and in good condition, with a long, pointed
head, which looked a little like that of a collie
dog. Though perfectly tame with Charley, the
wolf was shy of strangers, and at first, when approached
by Jack or any of the men at the ranch,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span>
seemed timid, and shrank for protection behind
young Powell. Charley had foreseen this, and had
arranged to spend two or three days at the ranch,
in order that the wolf might learn to know his
master.</p>
<p>"If I leave him here strange to you, you see," he
said, "he'll either leave you when I go away, and
come back to the ranch, or else he'll run away and
become wild, and I don't want to turn no wolves
loose on this range. I tried what Hugh told me to
with the pups, and now they're all tame as the
dogs."</p>
<p>While Charley stayed, Jack devoted his whole
time to making friends with the wolf, and everybody
at the ranch was as kind to it as possible.
After a day or two Hugh and Jack succeeded in overcoming
the wolf's suspicions, and had no difficulty
in calling it to them and in putting their hands on it.
It did not like to be held, and, at first, if firmly
grasped, would struggle and snap, in its effort to
escape, but the biting seemed to be more a threat
than an effort to really bite, and it soon learned
that no harm was intended to it. After the wolf
had come to be no longer afraid of Jack, Charley
neglected it, paying it no attention, while Jack fed
it, petted it, and played with it. He was surprised
to find how much like a young dog it was, how
readily it responded to his advances, and how precisely
it resembled a dog in the way it showed
pleasure, fear, or suspicion. Hugh made for the
wolf a collar of raw-hide, to which, at first, it objected,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span>
trying hard to rub it off against the ground,
and to push it from its neck with its paws, but after
a little it became accustomed to this. Two or
three times Jack and Charley ventured to ride out
over the prairie with the wolf following them.
Their rides, though short, were often fast, yet the
wolf never seemed to have any trouble in keeping
up with the horses, and sometimes when they were
galloping quite fast it would trot along by the side
of one of them without seeming at all hurried.
From this, Jack called him Swiftfoot.</p>
<p>When it came time for Charley to go, he and
Jack parted with not a little sadness on both
sides. They had grown fond of each other during
the summer, and both regretted Jack's coming
absence. Charley looked back a good many times
before the waggon disappeared over the hill, and
Jack, who stood at the ranch door, holding Swiftfoot
by his collar, did not turn away until his friend
had quite disappeared from view. The wolf, too,
seemed uneasy at the parting, and puzzled as well.
He looked at the waggon, and then at Jack, and
wagged his tail, and once or twice struggled to get
away, as if he wished to follow Charley, but he
soon forgot his doubts, and later in the day took
great delight in a game of ball with Jack out on
the flat.</p>
<p>A few days later, Mr. Sturgis and Jack left the
ranch for the railroad. Again Hugh drove them
in, and with the same team of horses that had
taken them out six months before. Swiftfoot was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span>
placed in a wooden cage, immediately behind the
seat of the waggon, where he would be close to
Jack, who petted and talked to him until he had
become a little used to his strange surroundings
and to the motion of the waggon.</p>
<p>When the railroad station was reached, quite a
crowd gathered on the platform to inspect Swiftfoot,
but before long the train pulled in, and the
crate holding the wolf was put in the baggage car.
The train had scarcely started before Jack, who
was anxious about his pet, proposed to his uncle
that they should go forward and see how the wolf
was getting along, and they did so. The baggage
master seemed very glad to see them. He said to
Mr. Sturgis, as soon as he entered the car: "See
here, partner, I don't like that crate you put aboard
here. 'Pears to me it's mighty flimsy, and if that
animal in there takes a notion to break out, he
might eat me up. I'm afraid of him."</p>
<p>"Oh," said Mr. Sturgis, "he can't get out, and
if he could, he wouldn't hurt you. Look over
there," and he pointed to Jack, who was sitting on
the crate, talking to Swiftfoot, who had his nose
through the bars, licking Jack's hand, and was beating
a rapid tattoo on the sides of the crate with his
wagging tail.</p>
<p>"Oh, Uncle Will!" called Jack, "can't I let him
out? He's awful frightened in here, and I think if
he had a chance to run up and down the car a few
times, and to make friends with the baggage master,
he wouldn't mind it so much."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span>
"Hold on! hold on, young fellow!" said the
baggage-master, "I don't want to make friends
with him. You keep him behind them bars, and
we'll be just as good friends as I want to be."</p>
<p>"Oh, I wish you'd let me take him out, just so
that he can smell around. I'll put a rope on him,
and won't let him get away. Come up here and
pat him, and see how friendly he is. He was awful
scared, though, when I first came in. He was all
crouched up in one corner of the box, and his eyes
were shining fearfully. He looked savage."</p>
<p>"Why," said the baggage master, who seemed to
be recovering his nerves, "he does seem gentle,
don't he?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "he's perfectly tame.
We've had him around the ranch there for a long
time, but I presume he's frightened at all the noise
and the motion. I really think if you would let the
boy take him out and show him the inside of the
car, and would try to make friends with him yourself,
you'd get to like him. I'll make it worth your
while if you do."</p>
<p>The man went up to the cage, and, after a little
persuasion by Jack, patted the head of the wolf,
which seemed grateful for attention and sympathy
from anyone. Then he consented that the crate
should be opened and the wolf led about the car by
Jack, but while this was being done, he took his seat
on top of a tall pile of trunks which reached nearly
to the roof. Before long, however, he came down
from there and was petting the wolf, seeming almost
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span>
as much interested in him as his owner, and when at
length Jack put Swiftfoot again in his crate, the
wolf, although howling after him, no longer seemed
terrified, as at first.</p>
<p>Jack made frequent visits to the baggage car, and
at each change of baggage masters, the operation of
introducing the new one to the wolf was repeated.
So the journey was made between the West and New
York, but before they reached that city Mr. Sturgis
told Jack that Swiftfoot was by long odds the most
expensive piece of baggage that he had ever carried
with him on the road.</p>
<hr class="c15" />
<p>In the big depot in New York, where the train
come hurrying in, and from which they hurry out,
where there are always crowds of people going, and
other crowds coming, and others, still, waiting for
the arrival of friends, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers stood
watching the passengers that were walking out from
the nine-forty express.</p>
<p>"They ought to have come before this, John,"
said Mrs. Danvers. "Do you think they could have
missed the train?"</p>
<p>"Wait a little;" said her husband; "there come
some more people."</p>
<p>Far down the platform they could see a tall man
hurrying along, and by his side a well grown boy,
leading an enormous grey dog.</p>
<p>"That looks like Will, but it can't be he, for that
isn't Johnny with him," said Mrs. Danvers.</p>
<p>"No," said her husband, "that isn't our boy."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span>
They continued to watch the distant people as
they approached, but Mrs. Danvers did not see her
boy. Suddenly, she was half crushed by a vigorous
embrace, and turning, saw beside her, her son, but a
very different son from him who had left her in the
spring. Then, he had been a little fellow; now, he
seemed to her a young man. Then, he was white,
slender and listless; now, he was brown, broad-shouldered
and boisterous. By his side stood a
great grey dog, with lowered head and tail, looking
up with suspicious eyes at the hurrying crowds
about him.</p>
<p>"Why, Johnny, Johnny," said his mother, "can
this be you? It isn't; I am sure it isn't. Will
Sturgis, what have you done? I want my boy
again. You have brought me a big bear."</p>
<p>Jack's father was hardly less astonished and delighted,
but he showed less excitement.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis to his sister, "I have
brought you back a very different boy from the one
I took away. I think after you have had a chance
to see him, and to talk with him, you will find that
he is a better boy all around. In fact, I think I can
say that when Jack left here six months ago he
stopped being a boy and began to be a man."</p>
<p>"What is that enormous creature you have there,
Johnny?"</p>
<p>"Why, mother, that's Swiftfoot, my tame wolf.
He's as gentle as can be, and I expect you'll find him
a real good house dog."</p>
<p>"Come along," said Mr. Danvers; "let us walk
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span>
home. The night is fine, and I hardly thought it
worth while to have the carriage here. Bring your
checks along and we'll send up for the baggage right
away."</p>
<p>Jack and his mother found the walk home a very
short one. Mrs. Danvers took her son's arm and
leaned on it, while Jack carried his rifle and led
Swiftfoot with the other hand. He was happy to
see his mother again, and proud to be leading his
wolf through New York streets. He thought what
fun it would be to show Swiftfoot to his old schoolmates
here, none of whom had ever seen a wolf, and
of how much he would have to tell them of the
western life, about which they knew nothing.</p>
<p>When they reached the house, Aunt Hannah was
lying in wait to bid her boy welcome. She had
nursed him from his tiniest babyhood, and he was
not surprised to have her throw her arms around
him and kiss him, while tears of gladness ran down
her cheeks. After a moment of congratulation from
her, he dragged Swiftfoot forward, and said, "Here
Hannah, is a new friend that I want you to like.
It's Swiftfoot, my tame wolf."</p>
<p>"A wolf!" shrieked Hannah. "Oh, lordy!" And
she flew through the dining-room and slammed the
pantry door behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr class="c30" />
<p> </p>
<div class="transnote">
<p>Transcriber's note:</p>
<p>Minor spelling inconsistencies, mainly hyphenated words, have been
made consistent.</p>
<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
<p>Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in
the original text.</p>
<p>A list of illustrations has been added so as to aid the reader.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45720 ***</div>
</body>
</html>
|
