CHAPTER XI
CHUNKY GETS THE CAT
"Wake up, fellows! The sun is up!" shouted Tad Butler, as Sundaymorning dawned bright and beautiful, the birds now making themountains ring with their joyous songs.
The Pony Riders rose up, rubbing their eyes sleepily.
"What time is it?" asked Ned Rector.
"Half-past six."
"Too early to sing. I refuse to sit on a bough and sing at any suchunearthly hour."
"Huh! I should say so," agreed Stacy Brown, turning over and buryinghis face in the fragrant green boughs of his cot.
Still, the boys had no patience with Chunky's dislike to earlyrising, even though they themselves were not averse to a morningcat-nap. With a yell, they tumbled from their cots, descending uponChunky in a bunch, pulling him from his bed without regard to theway in which they did so. His ill-natured protests went for nothing.
"I wonder where the guide is?" asked Walter, after they had thoroughlyawakened their companion.
"Probably gone gunning for our breakfast," answered Tad.
"I think he has gone after the pack train," said the Professor. "Hetold me last night that he should start at daybreak, and that youwould find some rabbit and hard tack for your breakfast under a flatstone back of his cot. I am afraid you will have to be satisfied witha cold meal this morning, unless you think you want to build a fireand warm up the food."
"Of course we will. Lige Thomas needn't think he's the only one in theparty who can get a meal out of nothing," answered Ned proudly,starting off to gather sticks for the fire.
But when they went to get the rabbit there was no rabbit. The stoneunder which it had been placed was there right enough, as were severalchunks of hard tack. The stone, however, had been turned over and themeat was nowhere to be found.
"That settles it," said Ned ruefully. "I never had an appetite yetthat it didn't meet with the disappointment of it's young life. Now,who do you suppose took that food!"
"Perhaps it was another of Chunky's pussy cats," laughed Walter.
"Don't we get anything to eat!" asked Stacy in a plaintive voice,glancing from one to the other of his companions.
"Yes, of course. You can go out in the bushes and browse, if you arehungry enough," suggested Ned. "As for myself I'm going to the springand wash, and after that fill myself up on cold water. That may makemy stomach forget, for a while, that it has a grievance."
"I'm going to bed," growled Stacy.
"You'll do nothing of the sort," shouted the boys, grabbing theirroly-poly president and rushing him back and forth to wake him upagain. "No Pony Rider is allowed to sleep after sun-up."
"Professor, I have a suggestion to make," said Tad, approachingProfessor Zepplin, who was sitting on the edge of his cot, making ameal of a cup of water, seemingly well pleased that that much had beenleft to him.
"I'll hear it, sir."
"Will you let me go out with my rifle to look for some game forbreakfast? Ned has three shells left in his belt. I think I shall beable to shoot something. There's no telling when Mr. Thomas willreturn with the pack."
"I couldn't think of it, my boy."
"I'll take care of myself, Professor."
"No. The responsibility is too great. We have had enough troublealready. I have not the least doubt that a resourceful young man likeyourself could take care of himself under almost any conditions. But Ido not dare take the risk. And, besides, a day's fast will do you allgood. I remember when I was an officer in the German army----"
"Professor, may we go out and follow the trail of Chunky's pussy cat?"interrupted Walter. "Ned has found the trail, and says he can followit by the blood spots. Perhaps we'll find the animal dead near by, andthe skin would be a fine trophy of our hunt in the Rockies."
"Certainly not. This is Sunday, young gentlemen, and even in themountains we must preserve some sort of decorum on that day."
"Oh, very well," answered Walter politely, covering his disappointmentwith a smile.
"All days look alike to me up here," grunted Ned. "If it wasn't thatone had a calendar he wouldn't even know when Sunday did come. Now,would he----"
"I've got him! I've got him!" came the sudden and startling yell fromthe bushes, accompanied by a series of resounding whacks and a greatthreshing about in the thick undergrowth.
The boys paused, not realizing, at first, to whom the excited voicebelonged.
"Come help me! I've got him!"
"Chunky!" they groaned. "He's at it again!"
Professor Zepplin leaped from his cot, striding off in the directionfrom which Stacy Brown's triumphant voice had come, and followed bythe rest of the party on the run. All four of them crashed into thebushes at the same instant, shouting words of warning to Stacy.
They did not know what it all meant, but the boys were sure that hehad gotten himself into some new danger.
Chunky had slipped away some moments before, after Ned Rector haddiscovered the trail of the bob-cat. His companions, however, had notmissed him, so Stacy was free to follow his own inclinations.
"Where are you?" cried the Professor.
"Here! here!"
Whack! whack! came the sound from a rapidly wielded club again,accompanied by a vicious spitting and snarling that caused the boys tohesitate, for a brief second, in their mad dash for the underbrush.
As they emerged into a little open space, made so largely by thebattle that was being waged there, their eyes fairly bulged withsurprise.
There was Stacy Brown, hatless, his face red and perspiring, and infront of him a snarling bob-cat at bay.
They saw at once that the animal had been wounded, two of its legsapparently having been broken, while blood flowed freely from a woundin its side.
Chunky was prancing about in what appeared to be an imitation of anIndian war dance, now and again darting in and delivering a tellingblow with the club held firmly in both hands, landing it on whateverpart of the animal's anatomy he could most easily reach. The beast wassnapping blindly at the weapon which Chunky was using with tellingeffect.
The boys in their surprise were unable to do more than stand and starefor the moment. That Chunky Brown had had the courage to attack abob-cat, even though it already had been seriously wounded, passed allcomprehension.
"Stop!" commanded the Professor, finding his voice at last.
Whack!
Stacy landed a blow fairly on the top of the brute's skull, causingthe animal to sway dizzily.
Paying not the slightest heed to the Professor's stern command, theexcited boy followed up his last successful blow by planting anotherin the same place.
But the savage little beast, though probably unable to see itsenemies, was showing its yellow teeth and squalling in its deadlyanger, the jaws coming together with a snap like that from the suddenspringing of a steel trap.
"Stand back!" ordered the Professor. "Don't touch him! Get away,boys!"
They were obliged to grab Chunky by the arms, fairly dragging him fromhis victim, so filled was he with the fever of the chase and a resolveto conquer his savage little enemy.
Professor Zepplin, once they had gotten Chunky out of the way, steppedas near to the bob-cat as he deemed prudent. Drawing his heavy armyrevolver, he took careful aim, shooting the beast through the head.
The Pony Riders uttered a triumphant shout.
The Professor waved them back as they pressed forward, and plantedanother bullet in the animal's head to make sure that it wasthoroughly finished.
"Hooray for the president of the Pony Riders!" shouted Ned Rector.
"Hip-hip hooray! T-i-g-e-r!" roared the boys, grabbing Chunky andtossing him back and forth, making of him a veritable medicine ball.
"What's the matter with Chunky?" cried Walter.
"Chunky's all right," chorused the band.
"Who's no tenderfoot?"
"Chunky's Brown's no tenderfoot."
Puffing out his cheeks, and squaring his shou
lders, Stacy swaggeredover to the dead bob-cat, violently pulling its ear.
"He tried to bite me," explained the boy. "See--he tore a lacer inmy leggin. I didn't see him till I almost stepped on him. I knew rightoff that it was the pussy that Lige shot at last night."
"What happened then?" asked Tad, with an admiring grin on his face.
"I fetched him one on the side of the head with a club. He jumped atme and I hit him again. About that time I called, and you fellows cameup. But I got him, didn't I, Professor?"
"You did, my lad. But you took a great risk in attempting to do so,"smiled the Professor, picking the dead animal up and hefting it. "Ithink he'll weigh about twenty pounds," he decided. "Yes; undoubtedlyit's the fellow Thomas shot last night. The brute was so badly woundedthat he was unable to drag himself far away."
"What shall we do with him now?" asked the boys.
"Take him to camp and leave him till Lige returns," advised theProfessor. "And I think we had better tie up our young friend Stacy,or he will be getting into more mischief than we are able to get himout of."
"Why can't we skin the cat?" inquired Ned.
"I should think you would prefer to wait till the guide sees it. And,besides, he knows better how to do that than any of the rest of us."
"Are--are bob-cats good to eat?" asked Chunky sheepishly.
The boys shouted.
"Not satisfied with trying to kill the poor beast, now you want to eathim," jeered Ned Rector. "Why, Stacy Brown, you ought to be ashamed ofyourself. No, I never heard of any one with an appetite so difficultto satisfy that he was willing to eat cats----"
"Yes; but this isn't a real cat," protested Stacy.
"You would have found him real enough if he had fastened one of thoseugly claws in your flesh," laughed Tad.
"Eat him, by all means, then," advised Ned. "Eat him raw. I wouldn'teven stop to cook the beast if I were in your place."
Walter and Stacy picked up the dead animal, carrying it along throughthe bushes, all talking loudly, the boys--though they would havebeen slow to admit the fact--casting envious glances at the fat boyand his trophy. Chunky told himself he would have something to writeto the folks back East that would make them open their eyes.
The boys, after having reached the camp, stretched the cat out on aflat rock. And now that the animal lay in the full light of day, thesight of its ugly, beetling brow, thin, cruel lips and powerful teethmade each of the three boys feel rather thankful that he had not hadthe luck to come face to face with it over in the bushes.
As for Chunky, he sat down beside the cat to enjoy the proud sense ofvictory, gazing down at the trophy with fascinated eyes. Deep down inhis heart, he wondered how he ever had had the courage to attackit. But, of course, Chunky confided nothing of this to his companions.
"Congratulating yourself, eh!" laughed Ned Rector.
Chunky glanced up at him solemnly.
"At this minute I was wishing I had a piece of apple pie," heanswered, hitching his belt a little tighter.