CHAPTER V.
"NOW FOR THE RANCH."
One of the singular features connected with the experience of our youngfriends during the first night they spent in Wyoming was that all thedanger which threatened them came from one Indian and from one _lupus_.After Jack Dudley had expelled the prowling buck, the intruder took goodcare to remain away. Neither he nor any of his companions troubled thecampers further. The presumption, therefore, was that this solitaryspecimen was a "dog Indian," or vagrant, wandering over the country onhis own account. Such fellows, as already explained, claim no kinshipwith any tribe, but are, like the tramps of civilized society, agentsfor themselves alone.
Had the season been winter, with the snow deep on the ground, thetrouble from the wolves would have been more serious. Those gauntcreatures, when goaded by hunger, become exceedingly daring, and do nothesitate to attack even armed bodies of men; but it was autumn time,when the ravenous brutes, who seem always to be hungry, find the leastdifficulty in procuring food, and they remained true to their cowardlydisposition and refrained from everything in the nature of true courage.
The curious fact, as we have remarked, was that, as in the case of theIndian, only a single wolf intruded upon the little company. The animalsgenerally travel in droves, and when one is seen it is quite safe tocount upon a dozen, or a score, or even more. It is possible that thevictim of Fred Greenwood's Winchester was also a sort of tramp,prospecting for his own benefit. It is more likely, however, that he waswhat might be considered a scout or advance agent of others. His packwas probably waiting among the foot-hills for him to return with hisreport. If so, the report is now considerably overdue.
Fred was a model sentinel for the remaining hours that he continued onduty. He continued circling about the camp-fire, silent, stealthy,peering here and there, and listening for the first evidence of danger.Nothing of the kind was seen or heard, and he finally came back to thesmouldering fire and looked at the face of his watch.
Could it be possible? It lacked a few minutes of three o'clock.According to agreement, he should have called Hazletine an hour before.
"I don't suppose he will object," said Fred, aloud; "I'm sure Ishouldn't, if allowed to sleep an hour beyond my time----"
"I ain't doing any kicking, am I?"
Looking around, he saw the guide had flung aside his blanket and wassitting erect, with a quizzical expression on his face.
"What made you fire your gun 'bout two hours ago?" he asked.
"Did you hear me?"
"How'd I know if I hadn't heard it?" was the pertinent question.
"A wolf was sneaking among the trees. I followed him out to the edge ofthe timber and let him have it between the eyes."
"Did you hurt him?"
"Since he flopped over and died, I have reason to believe he _was_hurt."
"Good! That's the style--always to shoot. Never waste your ammunition.You didn't kill any Injins?"
"I saw none at all."
Hank looked at the unconscious figure of Jack Dudley.
"Wonder how it was with him?"
"He did not fire his gun at anything."
Fred did not wish to tell his friend about that alarming visit earlierin the evening. That was Jack's concern.
"But he may have seed something. Howsumever, we can wait till morning.Wal, younker, if you've no 'bjection you can lay down and snooze tillmorning. I go on duty now."
There was vast comfort in this knowledge. It relieved the youth from thelast remnant of anxiety, and he lost no time in abandoning himself toslumber. The man who was now acting as sentinel was a past master at theart, and there need be no misgiving while he was on duty. Thus it cameabout that neither Jack Dudley nor Fred Greenwood opened his eyes untilthe sun was shining into the grove.
Each had had a refreshing night, but it cannot be said that theirawakening was of the most pleasant nature. The hunger that had beentwice satisfied the day before was not to be compared to that which nowgot hold of them. With the insatiate craving was the knowledge thatthere was not a scrap of meat, a crumb of bread nor a drop of milk incamp.
"We can fill up on water," remarked Jack, after they had bathed facesand hands and quaffed their fill.
"But what good will that do? We might bubble over, but we should be justas hungry as ever."
"It seems to me that when a fellow is chock-full of anything he oughtn'tto feel much hunger."
"I've often thought that, but you can't fool nature that way."
"If it gets any worse we can shoot the ponies and devour them."
"Why both of them?"
"Because it would take a whole one to satisfy me. I don't know how _you_feel, Jack, but if we are to have appetites like this I shall go in forbuying a drove of cattle and spending the few weeks we have in theseparts in eating."
The youths looked in each other's face and laughed. Truly they wereahungered, but could never quite lose their waggishness.
"I wonder what's become of Hank," suddenly exclaimed Fred, lookingbeside and behind them; "the fire is nearly burned out, and he isnowhere in sight. HALLOOH!"
The hail was uttered in a loud voice, and was responded to, but from apoint a considerable distance out upon the prairie, in the direction ofthe foot-hills. The open nature of the wood permitted the boys to seequite clearly in that direction.
"Yonder he comes," said Jack.
"And, by gracious, he's carrying something on his shoulders. I wonder ifit is that Indian you chatted with last night."
"Better than that. It's _something to eat_!"
Jack Dudley was right. The guide was laden with the carcass of someanimal. Its bulk was proof that he possessed an accurate idea of theappetite of these young gentlemen.
"How careless in him to leave us thus alone," remarked Fred, with mockreproof.
"Do you wish he hadn't done so?"
"Don't name it!" exclaimed Fred, with a shudder; "he knew the only wayof saving our lives. It wouldn't have done for him to postpone itanother hour."
Hank Hazletine was never more welcome than when he entered the grove andlet fall from his shoulders the carcass of a half-grown calf, plump,juicy, tender, and in the best of condition.
"I don't s'pose you care much 'bout it, but I feel like having somethingworth while for breakfast," he remarked, proceeding to prepare thecoals, for he had dressed the veal before starting on his return.
"Well," said Fred, with assumed indifference, "I suspect that since youintend to partake of food yourself, we may as well join you for the sakeof sociability."
Men like the old hunter are adepts at preparing a meal. The smoulderingfire was in good condition for broiling, and when raked apart afforded abed of live coals, over which generous slices were suspended on greentwigs, cut from the nearest trees. It took but a few minutes to preparethe meat. Hank always carried with him a box of mixed pepper and salt,whose contents were sprinkled over the toothsome food, of which thethree ate their fill.
"Are there any more of these animals left in the neighborhood?" askedJack, when their appetites were fully satisfied.
"S'pose you go out on the edge of the timber and larn for yourselves."
The lads followed the suggestion. Looking off in the direction of theWind River Mountains, it seemed to them that tens of thousands of cattlewere browsing among the foot-hills and on the grassy plain, while manymore must have been beyond sight. This was one of the choicest regionsof Wyoming, so widely celebrated for its grazing facilities.
It was an impressive sight, and the boys, each of whom was provided witha good spy-glass, surveyed the scene for some minutes in wonderingsilence. The cattle were several miles distant, and seemed to be brown,undulating hummocks of dirt, kept in constant motion by some forcebeneath. On the outer fringe they were more scattered, but wereconstantly moving, as if the pasturage was so excellent that they werecontinually tempted to give up that which was good for that which lookedbetter.
"Are they left wholly to themselves?" asked Fred, as the youths cameba
ck to where the guide was saddling his pony.
"No. There are always two or three men looking after them. I seed BartCoinjock, one of our own cowboys, 'tending our animals, and he told meto take my ch'ice from the lot. You mustn't forgit that we're purtyclose to the Wind River Injin Reservation, where the Government hasseveral tribes under charge."
This was news to the boys. Hazletine explained that a large tract ofland to the northwest and close to the mountains had been set apart someyears before by the United States Government for exclusive occupancy byseveral tribes of Indians. They owned the land, and no white man had theright to intrude upon them.
In the Southwest, where the Apaches were placed on reservations, therehad been the most frightful trouble, for those Indians are the worst inNorth America. All our readers know how many times the fierce Geronimoand a few of his hostiles broke away from their reservation, and, ridingswiftly through Arizona and New Mexico, spread desolation, woe and deathin their path. Not until Geronimo and his worst bucks were run down inold Mexico and transported bodily to the East was the danger to theSouthwest terminated.
Nothing of the kind has taken place in Wyoming, Montana, the Dakotas andother reservations further east, but there is always a certain number ofmalcontents on the reservations who cause trouble. They steal awayunnoticed by the authorities, and engage in thieving, and, when thechances are favorable against detection, commit graver crimes.
"That Injin that come into the timber last night was a sort of dog Injinthat had come down from the Wind River Reservation to find out what hecould steal."
The boys looked at each other in astonishment. They had made noreference to the visitor in the hearing of the guide, and could notunderstand where he had gained his knowledge. He noticed their surprise,and smiled.
"I seed the tracks of his pony, as well as his own. It was as plain tome as the words of a printed book. Why didn't you shoot the chap?"
Thus appealed to, Jack told the story. Hazletine listened with anexpression of amused contempt on his bearded face.
"You'll git over that afore you've been here long. I think I know who hewas. Tell me how he looked."
Jack was able to give a good description of his visitor, and before itwas finished the guide nodded his head several times.
"It was him, Motoza, one of the worst scamps west of the Mississippi."
"What do you suppose he was after?"
"He'll steal anything he can lay his hands on. If he'd found us allasleep he'd shot every one of us. That's the kind of a feller Motoza is.You played it well on him, catching him as you did, but you'd played ita hanged sight better if you'd put a bullet through him afore you askedany questions."
"What tribe does he belong to?"
"That's a queer part of it. Gin'rally it's easy to tell from the dress,paint and style of an Injin what his tribe or totem is, but there'snothing of the kind 'bout Motoza to guide you. I think he's a Sioux."
"I understood those red men live further to the eastward."
"So they do; but Motoza has wandered from his people. He was underSitting Bull, and went with him into British America when it got too hoton this side of the line; but Sitting Bull come back, and Motozafollered. He tries to make b'leve he's a good Injin, and sometimes he isfor months at a time on the reservation. Then the devil gits into him,and he's off somewhere."
While this conversation was going on the three had mounted their poniesand were galloping northward, this time trending to the right, so as todraw away from the mountains and follow an almost direct line toBowman's ranch, their destination. The animals were so fresh andspirited that Hazletine said he was hopeful of sleeping that night inthe ranch itself, as he called the low, flat building where he andseveral cowmen made their home when in that part of the countryattending to their duties.
It would take hard riding, and would lead them into the night toaccomplish the long journey, but the guide saw no reason why it shouldnot be done. If a storm came up--and they break with amazing suddennessat times in that part of the world--or if any mishap befell theirponies, a stop would have to be made for the night before reaching theranch.
Jack Dudley decided to ask a question that had been in his mind for sometime.
"Hank, that Indian last night was in my power, and he knew it as well asI, but I spared his life and allowed him to ride away without a hair ofhis head harmed. Now, don't you think he will feel some gratitude forthat?"
Hazletine threw back his head with uproarious laughter. He seemed tohave heard the best joke of a twelvemonth.
"What give you that idee?" he asked, when he succeeded in mastering hisexuberant mirth.
"Why, the event itself. I know that an Indian is revengeful by nature,but I have always believed that he was capable of gratitude forkindness."
"You've read that in story-books, but you never seed it in life. I won'tbe quite as rough as that," added the guide, in the same breath; "I haveseen a redskin that didn't furgit that a man had saved him from dying orbeing shot, but such redskins are as scarce as hen's teeth. The rule isthat they take all such kindnesses as signs of cowardice, and despisethe one that shows 'em. Let me tell you something that I know,"continued Hazletine, seriously. "Three years ago, when I was down inArizona, Jim Huber was the owner of the ranch where I was working. Heb'leved in treating Injins kindly. I've seen him give the 'Paches waterto drink when they was thirsty, meat to eat, 'bacca to smoke, and evenpowder and ball for their guns. He kept that up right along, and when hewas warned agin it, he said an Injin was human like the rest of us, andhe was willing to take his chances. The 'Paches wouldn't furgit whathe'd done fur 'em.
"Wal, they didn't. The fust thing we knowed, Geronimo and a dozen of hisdevils was off their reservation and coming down through them parts likea Kansas cyclone. It happened that me and the boys was several miles offwhen we heerd the news, and knowing that Huber was alone at the ranch,we rid like all mad fur the place. We got there too late to save him.The ranch was on fire, and he was mangled so we hardly knowed him. Buthe had died game, and killed two of the 'Paches afore he went under. Thethree laid aside one another, and the two Injins was the very ones thathad set at his table, eat of his food, been given powder and ball, andbeen treated like brothers."
"Are all red men as bad as that?"
"I've just said they wasn't. There's lots of 'em that would make anordinary white man ashamed of himself. But most of 'em are alike. WhatI'm driving at is to knock out of your head any idee that this Motozathat you let up on last night thinks any more of you for it. It'st'other way. He despises you fur a coward, and if he ever gits thechance he'll prove what I say is true."
This was depressing information for the youths, but they did not thinkit seeming to express any doubts of the sentiments of one who was somuch better informed than they. They hoped that their own experiencewould be of a different nature.
Having set out with the intention of reaching the ranch that evening,the guide had made the necessary preparations. He rolled up enoughcooked pieces of veal to avert the need of starting another fire andlooking for more food. So it came about that when the boys began toconsult their watches and hint of it being near meal time, he drew reinat another stream of water, where the ponies were allowed to rest andgraze while their masters refreshed themselves. The animals had beenpressed as much as was prudent; and Hazletine, looking at the sky andtheir surroundings, said they were making better progress than he hadcounted upon.
The weather remained all that could be desired, though he assured themthat a heavy rain-storm was impending, and would break withintwenty-four hours--an additional incentive for pushing forward.
They were hardly ever out of sight of cattle. Sometimes they were few innumbers, and then they suggested the droves of buffaloes, which, beforethe animals were extirpated, numbered hundreds of thousands. Once thehorsemen approached so close that the cattle were frightened and apartial stampede followed. That Hazletine was among acquaintances wasproved by the hails which he received from cowmen, most of wh
om were sodistant that the wonder was how they recognized one another. The boysstudied them through their spy-glasses, but, of course, all werestrangers to them.
When the afternoon was about half gone they came upon a stream thatlooked formidable. It was a hundred yards in width, with a roiled andrapid current, which, so far as the eye could determine, might be ascore of feet in depth. The prospect of having to swim their poniesacross was anything but pleasant, but the boys saw that a well-markedtrail led down to the bank where they approached it, showing that it hadbeen crossed and recrossed many times.
"There are places in that stream, which flows into the Platte," said theguide, "where it is a hundred feet deep. It has whirlpools and eddieswhere the best swimmer couldn't save himself, and even a grizzly bearwould drown."
"I hope those places are a good way off," said Jack.
"There's one of 'em right over there to the left."
"How are we going to reach the other side?" asked Fred, in dismay.
"Foller me."
As he spoke the guide spurred his animal into the muddy water, with theboys timidly at his heels and closely watching him.
At no time during the fording did the ponies sink above their knees. Itwas a surprise and vast relief when they rode out on the other sidewithout having been compelled to draw up their feet during the passage.
"And yet," explained their companion, "if you'd gone three yards to theright or left your critters would have had to swim for their lives, andyou'd have had the worst soaking you ever knowed. Now fur the ranch!"