Two Boys in Wyoming Part 21

Fred attempted to do so, but discovered he had no more cartridges at command. Since the bear at best could not harm the younger, he ran forward to the side of the canyon, just behind the beast. Jack had paused, so that both were looking at the grizzly, whose huge head and ma.s.sive shoulders protruded above the edge of the canyon. While they looked the head dropped from sight, followed by the forefeet, whose claws scratched over the flinty surface as they slipped backward.

Knowing what had occurred, Jack and Fred ran to the edge and looked down. They were in time to see the mountainous bulk tumbling into the vast chasm. The body maintained a horizontal posture, as in life, until it struck a projecting point which sent it bounding against the other side, where the impact added to the tendency of the first blow, and the body turned over and over, like an immense log rolling down hill.

Despite the gloom of the abyss the sun was shining so brightly, and was in such a favorable position, that everything was seen with distinctness.

Peering downward, the awed and grateful boys saw the black ma.s.s suddenly strike the foamy waters and send the spray flying in all directions. It disappeared for a moment and then popped up like a rubber-ball, and went dancing down the current toward the break in the walls which they had visited a brief while before.

Still silent and watching, they observed it dancing up and down with the violence of the stream until its motion was arrested by striking an obstruction, which held it motionless. There it stayed for the remaining minutes spent in peering into the abyss.

Jack and Fred looked up and across the canyon at the same instant. They were directly opposite, and hardly twelve feet apart. The elder took off his hat and called:

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Fred, removing his head-gear.

"All together!"

And then they swung their hats and hurrahed with the vim which, all things considered, was justified by events. They were happy and grateful, and neither forgot to thank, with all the fervency of his nature, the One who had delivered them in safety from the very jaws of death. No matter what other dangers might come to them, there could be none narrower or more striking than that through which they had just pa.s.sed.

"Do you intend to stay on that side of the canyon?" asked Fred.

"I don't know that there is any choice between our places, but if you feel lonely I'll come over to your help."

"I thought you might want to pick up the gun you threw away."

Jack looked at each of his hands in turn and laughed.

"Do you know I had forgotten all about that? I don't remember having thrown it aside."

"I saw you do it, and it was a lucky thing you did."

The two walked beside the canyon until they came to a straight place, where Jack easily made the leap and joined his friend. Then they set out to recover the Winchester, which, as matters stood, was almost beyond value to them.

"I can't recall the spot where I dropped it," remarked Jack, allowing his companion to take the lead.

"I do; you and I were doing such tall running then, and for some minutes afterward, that we covered more ground than would be supposed. That's the spot, just ahead."

He indicated an open s.p.a.ce, thirty or forty feet in width, lying between a ridge of boulders, over which it was astonishing how the fugitive had managed to make such good progress.

"We shall find it right there----"

Fred checked his words, for at that moment they came upon the spot he had in mind and both swept their gaze over it. Their dismay may be imagined when they saw nothing of the Winchester.

"You must be mistaken as to the place," said Jack.

"I can't be; it was just after you had leaped down from that low boulder that you gave your right arm a swing and away the gun went."

"Did you notice where it landed?"

"I can put my hand on the very spot."

"Do so."

Fred led the way a few paces and said:

"It was there, and nowhere else."

Jack bent over and carefully studied the earth.

"My gracious! you are right; that dent in the ground was made by the stock of my gun, and it couldn't have gone its own length further."

The s.p.a.ce was clear for several yards, and they would have discerned a small coin lying anywhere on it, but nothing suggesting a weapon was in sight.

A momentary consternation took possession of them. Only one conclusion was possible: some person had taken the Winchester.

"Do you suppose it was Hank, who wanted to have some fun with us?" asked Fred.

Jack shook his head.

"At any other time I might believe it, but Hank isn't one to look for fun when the lives of two persons are in danger. It wasn't he."

"Who, then, could it be?"

Again Jack shook his head.

"You know there are a number of Indians hunting in this neighborhood.

Some of them may have been near us, and, hearing our cries and the reports of our guns, started to find out what it meant. Coming upon my Winchester, they carried it off."

This was the most reasonable explanation they could think of, but it did not lessen their disappointment at the loss of the indispensable weapon.

"I won't stand it!" exclaimed Jack, whose indignation was rising; "the man who took that gun must give it back!"

It was impossible to know in what direction to look for the pilferer, but the youth's long strides led him toward the break in the walls of the canyon where they had seen the three Indians earlier in the forenoon. Whether it was reasonable to expect to find them, or rather the thief, there, would be hard to say, but Jack did find the one for whom he was looking.

Half the intervening distance was pa.s.sed, when he turned his head and said in an excited undertone to his companion:

"He's just ahead, and as sure as I live the thief is Motoza!"

Before Fred, slightly at the rear, could gain sight of the Indian, Jack broke into a lope and called:

"Hold on there, Motoza! You have something that belongs to me."

The dusky vagrant was alone and walking at a moderate pace from the youth. Although he did not look around until hailed he must have known he was followed, but he stopped short and wheeled about with a wondering expression on his painted face.

There could be no mistake by Jack Dudley, for Motoza was carrying two Winchesters, one in either hand, and a glance enabled the youth to recognize his own property.

"Howdy, brother?" asked Motoza, with the old grin on his face.

Jack was too angry to be tactful. He continued his rapid strides, and as he drew near reached out his hand.