CHAPTER V
NEGOTIATING AND OUTFITTING
It had been an eventful day for the millionaire ranchman and his sonPaul, as well as for Norman Grant and Roy Moulton, to whom it had openedup possibilities that they could scarcely yet realize. It was now ColonelHowell's mission further to enact the role of a magician and to see ifthe plans he had outlined were to bear fruit for the young aviators.
"We'll be waiting to hear," announced the young Count, as he alighted andgave the chauffeur directions for finding the Grant and Moulton homes,"and I want to know the news to-night."
"I'll be disappointed if it isn't good news," responded the Kentuckian,"but don't you worry about that. We're going anyway. You see your fatherright away and he'll begin to plan your outfit. We're going to leave, theairship with us I hope, at three o'clock Monday afternoon."
It was half past nine when the oil prospector reached the Grant home. Theevening there had been one resembling preparations for a funeral. ColonelHowell's offer had fallen on the Grant family with no sign of joy inanyone except the son. Dazed by the dangers which, to Norman's family,overshadowed all possible advantages, small time was lost in calling Mr.and Mrs. Moulton into the conference. After the arrival of the latter, ithad been a debate between the two boys, their parents, and severalsisters, with no apparent possibility of reaching a decision.
Even the appearance of Colonel Howell did not seem to help matters verymuch, but the formalities having worn off and the prospector having beeninvited to give his version of his own plans, the possibilities began tobrighten for the young men. In the process of argument, even the somewhathesitating Norman had talked himself into a wild eagerness to be allowedto go.
Roy was so impatient that he stuttered. The different effect of ColonelHowell's explanation was undoubtedly due to the fact that he emphasizedthe great possibilities of the business part of the trip. Roy had soughtto win favor by expatiating on the ease with which the _Gitchie Manitou_was to overcome the perils and privations of the almost Arctic region.
Norman had also grown hoarse in demonstrating the entire safety of theiraircraft. But their patron seemed to dismiss these arguments as mattersneeding no discussion. Rather, he drew a picture of the opportunities tobe presented to the boys in seeing the new land, of what he called thecomforts of their snug cabin and of the advantages that must come to allyoung men in becoming acquainted with the little-known frontiers of theircountry. He said little of the immediate pecuniary reward, but saidenough to have both fathers understand just what this was to be.
Both Mr. Grant and Mr. Moulton had had their share of roughing it on thefrontier and neither seemed to welcome the sending of their childrenagainst the privations that they had endured.
While the discussion dwindled into indecision, Colonel Howell, as if inafterthought, repeated in substance his talk with Mr. Zept, omitting ofcourse some of the unfortunate details, all of which, however, werealready well known to those present.
Mr. Zept was the leading citizen of Calgary, an influential and importantman. He was also a character whom most men in that part of the countrywere proud to count as a friend. Among those of her own sex, Mrs. Zeptoccupied about the same position. When the flurry of questions concerningMr. Zept's determination to send his son as a member of the party haddied somewhat, it was perfectly plain that both Mrs. Grant and Mrs.Moulton had new thoughts on the proposition.
"Is he going as a workman?" asked Roy impulsively.
"Oh, he'll do all he's called upon to do," answered Colonel Howell,taking advantage of his opening, "but I really didn't need any more help.He's going because his father thought it would prove an advantage to him.In fact," continued the colonel, "Mr. Zept was kind enough to want tocontribute to our expenses because his son was to be with us. But as Itold my old friend, I was not running an excursion, and I have invitedthe young man to go as my guest."
"And he's paying us nearly three thousand dollars to do what the Countwas willing to pay for," exclaimed Norman, as a clincher. "What have yougot to say to that?" he added almost defiantly, addressing his mother.
"But he won't have to go up in a flying machine," meekly argued Mrs.Grant.
Norman only shrugged his shoulders in disgust. "There won't be any moredanger in that," he expostulated, "than I've been in all week."
Colonel Howell turned to Mr. Grant, who held up his hands in surrender.Then he looked at Mr. Moulton. The latter shook his head, but the debateseemed to be closed.
"I guess they're able to take care of themselves," conceded Mr. Grant.
"I started out younger," added Mr. Moulton.
"I'm planning to leave at three o'clock Monday afternoon," announced theKentuckian, with his most genial smile, "and we'll have a car ready forthe machine Monday morning."
The conference immediately turned into a business session to discussimmediate plans and the outfit needed by the newly enlisted assistants.In this the mothers took a leading part, seeming to forget everyforeboding, and when Colonel Howell left, the two families wereapparently as elated as they had been despondent on his arrival.
The next day's performance at the Stampede was more or less perfunctory,so far as the young aviators were concerned, and was only different fromthe others in that Roy accompanied Norman in the exhibition flight.
Colonel Howell, after a day of activity in the city, was present when theflight was made. No time had been lost by the boys in arranging for theirdeparture, and mechanics in Mr. Grant's railroad department had beenpressed into service in the construction of three crates--a long skeletonbox for the truss body of the car, another, wider and almost as long, tocarry the dismounted planes, and a solidly braced box for the engine. Thepropeller and the rudders were to go in the plane crate. These werepromised Sunday morning, and Norman and Roy took a part of Saturday forthe selection of their personal outfits. Over this there was littledelay, as the practical young men had no tenderfoot illusions todissipate.
The kind of a trip they were about to make would, to most young men, havecalled for a considerable expenditure. But to the young aviators, life inthe cabin or the woods was not a wholly new story. Overnight they hadtalked of an expensive camera, but when they found that young Zept wasprovided with a machine with a fine lens, they put aside thisexpenditure, and the most expensive item of their purchases was a coupleof revolvers--automatics.
Norman already owned a .303 gauge big game rifle, but it was heavy andammunition for it added greatly to the weight to be carried in theairship. With the complete approval of Colonel Howell, he bought a new.22 long improved rifle, which he figured was all they needed in additionto their revolvers.
"It's a great mistake," explained Colonel Howell, who had met the twoboys at the outfitting store just before noon, "for travelers to carrythese big game high-powered rifles. The gun is always knocked down, isnever handy when you want it, and the slightest neglect puts it out ofcommission. You take this little high-powered in your pocket, and you'llget small game and birds while you're tryin' to remember where the biggun is."
"That's right," answered Roy. "Grant and I were up in the mountains ayear ago, back of Laggan. We weren't hunting especially, but I wascarryin' the old .303. Up there in the mountains we walked right up on asfine an old gold-headed eagle as you ever saw. I was going to shoot, whenI recollected that this wasn't a deer four hundred yards away. If I'dshot, I'd have torn a hole through that bird as big as your hat. If I'dhad this," and he patted the smart looking little .22, "somebody wouldhave had a fine golden-headed eagle."
Colonel Howell had few suggestions to make, but while he was in thestore, he selected a small leather-cased hatchet and an aluminumwash-pan.
"Don't laugh," he explained. "Just take the word of an old campaigner andkeep these two things where you can put your hands on 'em. You can getalong in the wilderness without shootin' irons--or I can--but you'll findthis tin pan a mighty handy friend. If your wise friends laugh at yourluxury just wait, they'll be the first ones to borrow it. You can cook ini
t, wash in it, drink out of it, and I've panned for gold with 'em. It'sthe traveler's best friend."
The outfitter was busy enough displaying his wares, of which he had ahundred things that he urged were indispensable, but he was not dealingwith States tenderfeet, and the volume of his sales was small. In it,however, the boys finally included two heavy Mackinaw jackets, two stillheavier canvas coats reinforced with lambs' wool, two cloth caps thatcould be pulled down over the face, leaving apertures for the eyes, andtwo pairs of fur gauntlets, mitten-shaped, but with separate fore-fingersfor shooting.
The boys made these purchases on their own account, and then ColonelHowell asked permission to make them a present. He selected and gave eachof the boys a heavy Hudson's Bay blanket, asking for the best four-pointarticle.
"They'll last as long as you live," explained the oil man, "and when youdon't need 'em in the woods for a house or tent or bed, or even as asail, you'll find they'll come in handy at home on your couch or asrugs."
Each boy had his own blankets at home, but at sight of those their newfriend gave them their eyes snapped. Roy selected a deep cardinal one andGrant took for his a vivid green, both of which had the characteristicblack bars.
"These look like the real things," exclaimed Roy, with enthusiasm.
"An Indian will give you anything he owns for one of 'em," chuckled thecolonel. "The tin pan is a luxury, but you've got to have these. If youlearn the art of how to fold and sleep in 'em, you'll be pretty wellfixed."
Colonel Howell did not seem to be worrying about his own outfit, and whenhe left the boys his work for the day was probably financial.
By the middle of Sunday afternoon, the _Gitchie Manitou_ had been safelystored in its new crates, and then, with a small tool chest and ahastily-made box crowded with extra parts, had been loaded on a largemotor truck and forwarded to the railroad yards. The remainder of the daywas utilized by the young aviators in compactly packing their personalbelongings, and in the evening the two young men had dinner at the Zepthome. The young Count, whom they had not seen since the day before whenhe accompanied Colonel Howell at the closing exercises of the Stampede,was present and nervously enthusiastic.
After dinner the three boys went to Paul's room where Grant and Roy wereastonished at the elaborateness of their friend's outfit. Paul had notconfined himself to those articles suggested by his practical father buthad brought together an array of articles many of which were ridiculouslysuperfluous.
He had worked so seriously in his selection, however, that it was not alaughing matter. So his new friends hesitated to tell him that half ofhis baggage was not necessary. Therefore they said nothing until Paul,having proudly exhibited his several costumes, his new leather cases forcarrying his camera, field glasses, revolvers, and two guns, noticed thelack of approval on their faces.
"Well," he said, with a smile, "out with it. I couldn't help gettingthem, but I know I don't need all this stuff. You fellows know. Throw outwhat I don't need. I bought a lot of it in Paris, but don't mind that.I'm not going to take a thing that I can do without."
Greatly relieved, Norman and Roy fell to work on the elaborate assortmentand in a short time had but little more left in the heap than one mancould carry.
"What's this?" asked Roy, as they reached a soft leather roll about thesize of a big pillow, carefully strapped.
"It's my blankets," explained Paul, opening the flap and exhibiting twosoft fleecy articles. "They're from London."
"Well," exclaimed Norman positively, "you give them to your sister forher picnics. Then you go down to-morrow morning and get a four-pointHudson's Bay blanket, fourteen feet long, pay your twelve dollars for it,get a strap to hang it on your back, and I reckon you'll have about allyou need."
A little later, when Paul's father and Colonel Howell visited the roomand Paul good-naturedly explained what his friends had done, Mr. Zeptlaughed.
"I told you all that," he exclaimed, "but I guess it was like the adviceof most fathers. These young men know what they're doing. Hill," he said,turning to his guest, "I guess you haven't made any mistake in signing upthese kids. There's a lot they may have to find out about the wilderness,but it looks to me as if they weren't going to have very much tounlearn."
The next morning was a long one. The baggage car secured by ColonelHowell for the aeroplane crates was soon loaded. Then nothing remained tobe done except, as Colonel Howell put it, "to line up my Injuns."
Moosetooth and La Biche were yet in camp at the Stampede Grounds. Theboys, including Count Zept, accompanied Colonel Howell to the Groundsabout noon. Here the oil prospector was able to change his programsomewhat, and much to his gratification.
Colonel Howell knew that his old steersmen were accompanied by quite agroup of relatives but he did not know the exact extent of the Martin andLa Biche families. They were all in charge of a man from AthabascaLanding, who was of course under contract to return the Indians to thatplace. Colonel Howell had thought it would be necessary to look after theimmediate relatives of Moosetooth and La Biche, but when he found thatthe women and children belonging to these men would just as soon returnto the North with their friends, he was able to arrange that the two oldriver men might precede the main party and accompany him alone.
The Indian makes very little ceremony of his farewells to the members oftheir families and after Colonel Howell had talked a few moments withthem the dark-skinned boatmen announced themselves ready. The matter ofluncheon seemed to worry neither Moosetooth nor La Biche. Each man had anold flour bag, into which he indiscriminately dumped a few bannock, someindistinguishable articles of clothing, and relighting their pipes, wereready to start for Fort McMurray.
It was the first ride either Indian had ever had in an automobile, butthe quick run back to the city seemed to make no impression upon them.Leaving the taciturn Crees in the baggage car, well supplied withsandwiches, fruit, and a half dozen bottles of ginger ale, the othersonce more headed for the Zept home. In two hours the expedition would beoff.