Cattle-Ranch to College Part 8

It was not long before the whole camp was wrapped in slumber. The stock had been allowed to run free, it being well known that they would not stray far from the good feed that the creek bottom afforded. All was silent without and only the heavy breathing of the sleepers disturbed the quiet within. "Spuds," the dog, from time to time growled and barked inwardly as he dreamed of a fierce chase after a gopher or jack rabbit.

At last even he subsided.

This absolute quiet was presently disturbed by a howl,--long, wailing, and dreadful,--that sounded through the low roof as if the thing that caused it must be in the room itself. Ben jumped up so suddenly that he struck his head on his brother's bunk above him.

"What's that?" he cried, shaking with fear at a sound he could not explain. John, his head stuck out of the berth above, was frightened himself, and could not explain the noise.

Again the fearful wail came, this time not so distinct, but quite as awe-inspiring. The boys drew a long breath of relief when their father got up, took the rifle from the two pegs that supported it, and went to the door. His evident calmness rea.s.sured them. As he reached the door and fumbled with the latch, John and Ben heard a soft but rapid patter of feet and then his muttered exclamation:

"Plague take those pesky wolves, howling at a man's door in the dead of night."

So the boys made acquaintance with the great, gray prairie wolf at close quarters the first night of their stay afar from civilization.

In a few days the men were in full swing at the work for which they had come to this point. The boys were too young to take part in the mining operations, but even they had their ch.o.r.es to perform at certain times of the day, after which they were at liberty to do much as they pleased, within certain well-known limits. Their first duty on being wakened between four and five was to round up the stock and drive it in. This was not such easy work as it sounds. The journey in search of the animals was long, and was made on an empty stomach in the cold, raw morning air. Even when they were found, it was difficult to get them moving towards the camp. The animals seemed at times to be endowed with diabolical perversity, and would resist all efforts to start them running in the right direction. The mules and horses once corraled, the boys had an appet.i.te for breakfast that a dyspeptic would give a fortune to acquire. After that hearty meal the brothers supplied the camp with wood and water and did what odd jobs were required about the home. This completed their work for the time.

After these duties were performed one morning, John and Ben bethought them of the beaver village, and their spirits rose in antic.i.p.ation of the sport. A full trapper's outfit had been brought to the camp. They got this out and made up a pack containing several steel traps (having strong jaws armed with sharp teeth and set off by pressure of the animal's foot on the trigger plate), an axe, some fishing line and tackle in case a good pool was encountered, the always present revolvers and ammunition, and a small store of food.

Though it was their first experience in trapping beaver, the boys were well versed in the theory of the business; they had never let an opportunity go by to learn all they could about such sport. So they started with a fair knowledge at least of the habits and ways of the beaver whom they were to outwit. Their journey down to the dam led them along the creek, and they noted several inviting pools where bullheads and trout were likely to lurk, planning to come back and try to catch a string after they had set their traps.

Reaching the dam, they set to work. John being the elder, at once took command of the expedition. "You chop down some brush," he ordered, "while I go over and punch a few holes in the dam. These little beggars know a thing or two and won't run into an uncovered trap."

"What do you want to cut down brush for?" questioned Ben, as he shouldered the axe and prepared to obey.

"Why, you see, when I break the dam the water will rush out and show up the entrance to the houses; then after we go away the beaver will get to work to build it up again, and will go for the brush you have chopped down and get caught in the traps we will set in it. See?"

Ben's eyes danced at the prospect, and he raced off to do his part.

The boys were soon out of sight of each other, and John busied himself on the top of the dam with a strong stick, poking holes ruthlessly through it. He found it firmer than he had expected, and it took all his strength and skill to tear it open. He pushed his stick in vertically, in order to get a good purchase, and, encountering an unexpected obstacle, put his whole weight into the thrust. All of a sudden the obstruction gave away, the stick sank down till his hands struck the ground, he lost his balance and fell headlong into the deep part of the stream.

The water was well over his head, and after a few minutes' struggling, he began to realize that he was in a nasty situation. The dam was composed mostly of slippery mud, which gave him no hold, and burdened by his soaked clothing, he could not swim to the bank. The water was icy cold, and he felt almost numb at once. He called to Ben, but could not make him hear. Then he sank beneath the surface.

Again he went down, but he kept his presence of mind and struggled with might and main to gain a foothold on the slimy slope. In spite of his efforts to keep on top, he sank a third time, but this time barely below the level of his eyes. His work on the dam had accomplished its purpose and the water was rushing out through a leak, so that the depth was decreasing every minute. He realized that if he could keep up a little longer he would be all right.

Again he sank, too tired to do more, but this time was able to keep his mouth above water by standing on tiptoe and stretching his neck to its fullest extent.

Before long the water had receded so much that he could wade ash.o.r.e, though at times his feet slipped into holes that let him down until he was entirely under water. Reaching the bank, he dragged himself up and lay down flat, for the time quite exhausted.

He was more breathless than hurt, however, and in a short time was able to get up and crawl over to a sunny spot.

Ben came up presently and was inclined to joke with his brother on his mishap; but after John had told his story he took it more seriously.

The boys noted with satisfaction that the water was now so low that the submerged entrances to the beaver houses were visible. They therefore hastened to place their traps in the brush that Ben had cut. They then moved up the creek to the fishing hole they had noted, to await developments and at the same time try their luck at fishing. Ben took the line while John stripped off his water-soaked clothes, hung them up to dry, and then lay down in a warm sunny spot. It was late in the fall, and the wind proved too searching for comfort in this condition, so a fire was built, by which he dried and warmed himself.

The fish were hungry and bit early and often, with the result that the pile of bullheads and trout on the bank was soon a goodly sight to behold. A few of them John cleaned and hung over the fire with a forked stick. The meal which followed was enjoyed to the full, and by the time it was finished John's wet clothes were fairly dry. Ben was for looking after the traps right away, but his brother's more experienced counsel prevailed, and they agreed to visit them at the earliest opportunity the following morning.

The first minute after the next morning's work was finished they hurried to the scene of John's accident. After considerable searching (for they had neglected to chain the traps fast to a log) they found one. In it was a beaver's foot, well provided with claws for digging, and gnawed off clean above the joint. The brave little beast had cut off his own leg to save his life.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Beaver Chip.]

"Well, I'm jiggered," said Ben. "If that don't beat all. Don't you wish you had come back when I wanted you to?"

"No; the beaver didn't show up till after dark, probably. Besides, there are three other traps, and there must be something in 'em or they would be where we left 'em."

They searched and searched and called each other names because of their carelessness in not making the traps fast. Finally they bethought them of the possibility of the little animals' dragging the cruel steel jaws with them to their houses, which, instinct would teach them, were their only safe refuges.

Sure enough, there were two of them dead, drowned at their own door; the third was alive and full of energy. Timid usually, the beaver when caught or brought to bay will fight courageously. Ben stooped to drag the trap and its captive out, but drew back so suddenly that his head struck John, who was also leaning over, a scientific blow on the nose.

That maltreated and indignant organ began to bleed freely, and it did not console John to any great degree to learn that the little beast had turned on Ben and that he had come within an ace of having a finger bitten off by its long yellow teeth. He was so alarmed at this savage pugnacity that, without paying any attention to the rap he had given John, he still retreated, keeping his eyes on the hole. This was needless, however, for the animal was hopelessly entangled. A shot from John's revolver soon put the little creature out of its misery and enabled them to drag it out without danger.

They returned to camp, triumphantly bearing three splendid beavers. But John held his hand over his swelling nose and fast blackening eyes: he could afford to accept with equanimity all taunting references to his injured member, such as, "Your nose is out of joint," and "What a black look you have," for he had turned the tables on Ted, who had laughed at him, calling out: "Sonny, you think you're going on a beaver hunt, but you're really going on a wild goose chase."

Many more trips did the two boys make to this and other beaver villages, and the pile of salted skins grew to quite respectable proportions by the time the ice began to form on the creek.

With winter came many added pleasures and some extra work and discomfort. Paths to the mine and to water had to be dug in the early morning through the snow that had drifted during the night, and this work was added to the boys' regular tasks. The drawing of water had now become more difficult, for a hole had to be cut in the ice every time.

Gathering wood, too, was not easy, since it was necessary to burrow for it through the white blanket of snow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RIFLE RESTED CLOSELY AGAINST HIS CHEEK. (_Page 99._)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BEN WENT OVER TO WHERE THE GAME LAY. (_Page 100._)]

One of the men of the camp was a Swede called "Yumping Yim," because of his racial inability to p.r.o.nounce the letter "J." He showed the boys how to make snowshoes or skees, long strips of wood curved up at the front, the bottom slightly concave to give a purchase on the crust and prevent them from slipping sideways, the top convex and rising slightly from toe and heel to the centre where the foot rested. The boys soon became proficient in the use of these and sometimes travelled considerable distances on them.

Exhilarating trips they were, over the crusted snow, when swift, breathless slides were taken down the hills, and skimming jumps from one level to another. It was on one of these trips that John and Ben saw for the first time a herd of buffalo, their great, brown, closely-packed bodies looking like an undulating sea of fresh earth against the whiteness of the snow. With them were large numbers of antelope, these weaker animals profiting by the ability of the powerful buffalo to break into the drifts and uncover the scanty herbage.

The boys skimmed back to camp, and soon all the men formed themselves into a hunting party. Luck was with them. The whole party crept softly up, using every bit of cover that could be found. Then there was a whispered consultation, rifles were levelled, Mr. Worth kicked a lump of snow as a signal, and five guns barked out together. John and Ben dashed forward in wild excitement to find three antelopes lying dead. Without stopping, the hunters pressed on after the flying animals, and by nightfall a row of antelope hung high up against the log portion of the dug-out. Since the boys had no rifles of their own and the family Winchester was in use, they had to be content with long shots with revolvers.

During the excitement following one of the volleys, Ben, who had lingered behind, saw what he thought was a wounded animal. He quickly raised his pistol and fired. As he did so, the figure rose and stood upright. It was Charley Green! His winter clothing, like that of the boys, was made of deerskin, his cap of the pelt of the musk-rat--even his hands and feet were covered with deerskin soled with buffalo hide.

The deception had been complete, all too complete, Charley thought, when he heard what a narrow escape he had had. Ben shivered when he realized what might have happened, and registered a mental vow to let any future deer get away rather than run the risk of its being deer only in hide and man beneath.

The boys had learned to cut out and make their own winter deer-hide clothing, caps, shirts, mittens, and "packs," or boots, soled with buffalo hide, hair side in; so they always had plenty to do when indoors. Most of the days were spent on their skees. They learned many new things and many ways of getting along under their new conditions.

For instance, a snow house had been dug in a big drift which extended out over the ice-covered creek, and a fire was built inside which speedily melted a hole through to the water. It was so much warmer under the blanket of snow that this did not freeze over. Through it the boys drew the supply of water and caught many a fine string of fish.

The long winter evenings were spent around the big fireplace, where the men made or patched clothes, told stories, played cards, and smoked. The camp was cut off from the world by the miles and miles of deep white snow which overspread the land in every direction. There was no danger from Indians, for even they could not move under difficulties so insurmountable. Wolves nightly came down from the hills and left their footprints on the snow about the house, and especially under the row of frozen deer which swung from a high support--the winter supply of meat killed after freezing weather set in. Both night and day the coyotes howled and answered each other from the high points round about, with their wuh, wuh, wuh-aou-u-u-u-u-wuh-wuh. On moonlight nights the scene from the front door was entrancing. The wide, white valley stretched up and down as far as the eye could see, and the reaching white ridges of snow and utter silence suggested illimitable distance. When the wind blew, the fine snow slid along the encrusted surface, making a noise like hissing water on a pebbly beach, while the finer particles, rising in the air, created lunar rainbows of surpa.s.sing beauty. Here indeed was loneliness, loveliness, and solemn immensity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Snap shots.]

CHAPTER VI.

A SNOWSHOE RACE.

"I tell you what," said Ben, one day when the boys were off on their skees, "if we only had a sled, what fun we'd have down these hills!"

"Well, what's the matter with making one?" answered John, the ever-ready. "It would be great; this crust is smooth as gla.s.s; we'd just fly."

At once they turned in their tracks and sped for home to carry out their plan.