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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20710-8.txt b/20710-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e71e177 --- /dev/null +++ b/20710-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9556 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Pluck on the Long Trail, by Edwin L. Sabin, +Illustrated by Clarence H. Rowe + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Pluck on the Long Trail + Boy Scouts in the Rockies + + +Author: Edwin L. Sabin + + + +Release Date: February 28, 2007 [eBook #20710] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/c/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 20710-h.htm or 20710-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710/20710-h/20710-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710/20710-h.zip) + + + + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +Or + +Boy Scouts in the Rockies + +by + +EDWIN L. SABIN + + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +THE BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS +By James Otis. Illustrated by Charles Copeland. + +ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL; OR, BOY SCOUTS ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN +By Percy K. Fitzhugh. Illustrated by Remington Schuyler. + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL; OR, BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES +By Edwin L. Sabin. Illustrated by Clarence Rowe. + +Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.25 postpaid. + +A series of wholesome, realistic, entertaining stories for boys by +writers who have a thorough knowledge of Boy Scouts and of real scouting +in the sections of the country in which the scenes of their books are +laid. + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY +NEW YORK + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + + +[Illustration: See page 123. "'YOU GIT!' HE ORDERED."] + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +Or + +Boy Scouts in the Rockies + +by + +EDWIN L. SABIN +Author of "Bar B Boys," "Range and Trail," +"Circle K," Etc. + +Illustrated by Clarence H. Rowe + + + + + + + +It's honor Flag and Country dear, and hold them in the van; +It's keep your lungs and conscience clean, your body spick and span; +It's "shoulders squared" and "be prepared," and always "play the man"; + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er! + + + +New York +Thomas Y. Crowell Company +Publishers +Copyright, 1912, by +Thomas Y. Crowell Company + + + +TO SCOUTS + +Scouts in America have a high honor to maintain, for the American scout +has always been the best in the world. He is noted as being keen, quick, +cautious, and brave. He teaches himself, and he is willing to be taught +by others. He is known and respected. Even in the recent war in South +Africa between Great Britain and the Boers, it was Major Frederick +Russell Burnham, an American, once a boy in Iowa, who was the English +Chief of Scouts. Major Burnham is said to be the greatest modern scout. + +The information in this book is based upon thoroughly American +scoutcraft as practiced by Indians, trappers, and soldiers of the +old-time West, and by mountaineers, plainsmen, and woodsmen of to-day. + +As the true-hearted scout should readily acknowledge favor and help, so +I will say that for the diagram of the squaw hitch and of the diamond +hitch I am indebted to an article by Mr. Stewart Edward White in +_Outing_ of 1907, and one by Mr. I. J. Bush in _Recreation_ of 1911; for +the "medicine song" and several of the star legends, to that Blackfeet +epic, "The Old North Trail," by Walter McClintock; for medical and +surgical hints, to Dr. Charles Moody's "Backwoods Surgery and Medicine" +and to the American Red Cross "First Aid" text-book; for some of the +lore, to personal experiences; and for much of it, to various old army, +hunting, and explorer scout-books, long out of print, written when good +scouting meant not only daily food, travel, and shelter, but daily life +itself. + +E. L. S. + + + +BOOK KIT + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. The Long Trail 1 + II. The Night Attack 11 + III. The Big Trout 21 + IV. The Beaver Man 31 + V. Two Recruits 39 + VI. A Disastrous Doze 54 + VII. Held by the Enemy 69 + VIII. A New Use for a Camera 85 + IX. Jim Bridger on the Trail 98 + X. The Red Fox Patrol 111 + XI. The Man at the Dug-out 121 + XII. Foiling the Fire 133 + XIII. Orders from the President 146 + XIV. The Capture of the Beaver Man 161 + XV. General Ashley Drops Out 179 + XVI. A Burro in Bed 185 + XVII. Van Sant's Last Cartridge 199 + XVIII. Fitz the Bad Hand's Good Throw 215 + XIX. Major Henry says "Ouch" 230 + XX. A Forty-mile Ride 244 + XXI. The Last Dash 258 + + +SCOUT NOTES + + 1. On Old-Time Scouts 277 + 2. On Taking a Message to Garcia 278 + 3. On Socks and Feet 279 + 4. On the Tarpaulin Bed-Sheet 279 + 5. On the Diamond Hitch 279 + 6. On the Indian Bow and Arrow 282 + 7. On the Lariat or Rope 282 + 8. On Neatness and the War-bag 283 + 9. On Tea 283 + 10. On the Medicine Kit 283 + 11. On the Straight-foot Walk 284 + 12. On Sign Language 284 + 13. On Sign for Bird Flying 286 + 14. On Making the Tarp Bed 286 + 15. On the Reflector Oven--and a Shovel 287 + 16. On a Whistle Code 287 + 17. On Brushing Teeth and Hair 287 + 18. On Snagging Fish 287 + 19. On Drying Boots 288 + 20. On Records and Maps 288 + 21. On Right or Left Footedness 288 + 22. On Weather Warnings 289 + 23. On Watching Teeth 290 + 24. On Lightning 290 + 25. On Bedding Place 290 + 26. On Cooking 290 + 27. On the Tarp Shelter Tent 291 + 28. On Guns 291 + 29. On Treating Pack-Animals 292 + 30. On the Scout Camp Place 292 + 31. On Camp-Law Protection 292 + 32. On Division of Guard Duty 292 + 33. On Trailing 292 + 34. On Marking the Trail 293 + 35. On Respecting the Enemy 293 + 36. On the Parole 293 + 37. On the Sign for Escape 294 + 38. On Tying a Prisoner 294 + 40. On Making a Fire 296 + 41. On the Clock of the Heavens 296 + 42. On Stars 298 + 43. On Sunday 300 + 44. On Smoke Signals 300 + 45. On Surgical Supplies 301 + 46. On Antiseptics 302 + 47. On Climbing Trees 303 + 48. On Wigwags and Other Motion Signaling 303 + 49. On Sprains 308 + 50. On Caches 309 + 51. On Use of Medicines 310 + 52. On Forest Fires 311 + 53. On Fire Fighting 312 + 54. On Deep Wounds 313 + 55. On the Squaw Hitch 314 + 56. On Picketing and Hobbling 315 + 57. On Respecting Nature 316 + 58. On Dislocations 316 + 59. On Litters for Wounded 317 + 60. On Jerked Meat 318 + 61. On Dressing Pelts 319 + 62. On Aluminum 320 + 63. On "Levez!" 320 + 64. On Appendicitis 320 + 65. On the Nose of Horse and Mule 321 + 66. On Being a Scout 321 + +[Transcriber's note: Note 39 was not referenced in this table.] + + + +PICTURE SIGNS + + +"'You git!' he ordered" Frontispiece + + OPPOSITE + PAGE + +"Bill Duane went through him" 78 +"It was our private Elk Patrol code" 178 +"Like cave-men or trappers we descended" 214 + + + +THE ROLL CALL + + +THE ELK PATROL OF COLORADO: + +First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley. +First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry. +First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson. +First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. +Second-class Scout "Little" Dick Smith, or Jedediah Smith. +Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger. + +THE RED FOX PATROL OF NEW JERSEY: + +First-class Scout Horace Ward. +First-class Scout Edward Van Sant. + +FRIENDS AND ENEMIES: + +Sally and Apache, the Elk Totem Burros. +Bill Duane and his Town Gang, Who Make the Trail Worse. +Bat and Walt, the Renegade Recruits. +The Beaver Man. +The Game Warden, the Forest Ranger, the Cow-puncher, + the two Ranch Women, the Doctor; Pilot Peak, Creeks, + Valleys, Hills, Timber, and Sage and Meadows; Rain + and Fire and Flood; the Big Trout, the Mother Bear, + the Tame Ptarmigans, etc. + +THE LONG TRAIL + +Afoot, One Hundred Miles through a Wild Country and over the Medicine +Range. Described by Jim Bridger, with a Few Chapters by Major Henry. + + + + + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +CHAPTER I + +THE LONG TRAIL + + +We are the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of America. Our +sign is [Illustration] and our colors are dark green and white, like the +pines and the snowy range. Our patrol call is the whistle of an elk, +which is an "Oooooooooooo!" high up in the head, like a locomotive +whistle. We took the Elk brand (that is the same as totem, you +know, only we say "brand," in the West), because elks are the great +trail-makers in the mountains. + +About the hardest thing that we have set out to do yet has been to carry +a secret message across the mountains, one hundred miles, from our town +to another town, with our own pack outfit, and finding our own trail, +and do it in fifteen days including Sundays. That is what I want to tell +about, in this book. + +There were six of us who went; and just for fun we called ourselves by +trapper or scout names. We were: + +First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley. He is our +patrol leader. He is fifteen years old, and red-headed, and his mother +is a widow and keeps a boarding-house. + +First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry. He is our corporal. +He is sixteen years old, and has snapping black eyes, and his father is +mayor. + +First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson. He is thirteen years +old, and before he came into the Scouts we called him "Sliver" because +he's so skinny. His father is a groceryman. + +First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He +is fifteen years old, and tow-headed and all freckled, and has only half +a left arm. He got hurt working in the mine. But he's as smart as any of +us. He can use a camera and throw a rope and dress himself, and tie his +shoe-laces and other knots. He's our best trailer. His father is a +miner. + +Second-class Scout Richard Smith, or Jedediah Smith. He is only twelve, +and is a "fatty," and his father is postmaster. + +Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger the Blanket Chief. +That's myself. I'm fourteen, and have brown eyes and big ears, and my +father is a lawyer. When we started I had just been promoted from a +tenderfoot, so I didn't know very much yet. But we're all first-class +Scouts now, and have honors besides. + +For Scout work we were paired off like this: Ashley and Carson; Henry +and Smith; Fitzpatrick and Bridger. (See Note 1, in back of book.) + +Our trip would have been easier (but it was all right, anyway), if a +notice hadn't got into the newspaper and put other boys up to trying to +stop us. This is what the notice said: + + The Elk Patrol of the local Boy Scouts is about to take a message + from Mayor Scott across the range to the mayor of Green Valley. + This message will be sealed and in cipher, and the boys will be + granted fifteen days in which to perform the trip over, about 100 + miles, afoot; so they will have to hustle. They must not make use + of any vehicles or animals except their pack-animals, or stop at + ranches except through injury or illness, but must pursue their own + trail and live off the country. The boys who will go are Roger + Franklin, Tom Scott, Dick Smith, Harry Leonard, Chris Anderson, and + Charley Brown. + +Of course, this notice gave the whole scheme away, and some of the other +town boys who pretended to make fun of us Scouts because we were trying +to learn Scoutcraft and to use it right planned to cut us off and take +the message away from us. There always are boys mean enough to bother +and interfere, until they get to be Scouts themselves. Then they are +ashamed. + +We knew that we were liable to be interfered with, because we heard some +talk, and Bill Duane (he's one of the town fellows; he doesn't do much +of anything except loaf) said to me: "Oh, you'll never get through, kid. +The bears will eat you up. Bears are awful bad in that country." + +But this didn't scare _us_. Bears aren't much, if you let them alone. We +knew what he meant, though. And we got an anonymous letter. It came to +General Ashley, and showed a skull and cross-bones, and said: + + BEWARE!!! No Boy Scouts allowed on the Medicine + Range! Keep Off!!! + +That didn't scare us, either. + +When we were ready to start, Mayor Scott called us into his office and +told us that this was to be a real test of how we could be of service in +time of need and of how we could take care of ourselves; and that we +were carrying a message to Garcia, and must get it through, if we could, +but that he put us on our honor as Scouts to do just as we had agreed to +do. (See Note 2.) + +Then we saluted him, and he saluted us with a military salute, and we +gave our Scouts' yell, and went. + +Our Scouts' yell is: + + B. S. A.! B. S. A.! + Elk! Elk! Hoo-ray!! + +and a screech all together, like the bugling of an elk. + +This is how we marched. The message was done up flat, between cardboard +covered by oiled silk with the Elk totem on it, and was slung by a +buckskin thong from the general's neck, under his shirt, out of sight. + +We didn't wear coats, because coats were too hot, and you can't climb +with your arms held by coat-sleeves. We had our coats in the packs, for +emergencies. We wore blue flannel shirts with the Scouts' emblem on the +sleeves, and Scouts' drab service hats, and khaki trousers tucked into +mountain-boots hob-nailed with our private pattern so that we could tell +each other's tracks, and about our necks were red bandanna handkerchiefs +knotted loose, and on our hands were gauntlet gloves. Little Jed Smith, +who is a fatty, wore two pairs of socks, to prevent his feet from +blistering. That is a good scheme. (Note 3.) + +General Ashley and Major Henry led; next were our two burros, Sally (who +was a yellow burro with a white spot on her back) and Apache (who was a +black burro and was named for Kit Carson's--the real Kit +Carson's--favorite horse). Behind the burros we came: the two other +first-class Scouts, and then the second-class Scouts, who were Jed +Smith and myself. + +We took along two flags: one was the Stars and Stripes and the other was +our Patrol flag--green with a white Elk totem on it. They were fastened +to a jointed staff, the Stars and Stripes on top and the Patrol flag +below; and the butt of the staff was sharpened, to stick into the +ground. The flags flew in camp. We did not have tents. We had three +tarps, which are tarpaulins or cowboy canvas bed-sheets, to sleep in, on +the ground, and some blankets and quilts for over and under, too. (Note +4.) And these and our cooking things and a change of underclothes and +stockings, etc., were packed on the burros with panniers and top-packs +lashed tight with the diamond hitch. (Note 5.) + +We decided to pack along one twenty-two caliber rifle, for rabbits when +we needed meat. One gun is enough in a camp of kids. This gun was under +the general's orders (he was our leader, you know), so that there +wouldn't be any promiscuous shooting around in the timber, and somebody +getting hit. It was for business, not monkey-work. We took one of our +bows, the short and thick Indian kind, and some of our two-feathered +arrows, in case that we must get meat without making any noise. (Note +6.) And we had two lariat ropes. (Note 7.) Each pair of Scouts was +allotted a war-bag, to hold their personal duds, and each fellow put in +a little canvas kit containing tooth-brush and powder, comb and brush, +needles and thread, etc. (Note 8.) + +For provisions we had flour, salt, sugar, bacon, dried apples, dried +potatoes, rice, coffee (a little), tea, chocolate, baking-powder, +condensed milk, canned butter, and half a dozen cans of beans, for short +order. (Note 9.) Canned stuff is heavy, though, and mean to pack. We +didn't fool with raw beans, in bulk. They use much space, and at 10,000 +and 12,000 feet they take too long to soak and cook. + +We depended on catching trout, and on getting rabbits or squirrels to +tide us over; and we were allowed to stock up at ranches, if we should +pass any. That was legitimate. Even the old trappers traded for meat +from the Indians. + +We had our first-aid outfits--one for each pair of us. I carried Chris's +and mine. We were supplied with camp remedies, too. (Note 10.) Doctor +Wallace of our town, who was our Patrol surgeon, had picked them out for +us. + +General Ashley and Major Henry set the pace. The trail out of town was +good, and walking fast and straight-footed (Note 11) we trailed by the +old stage road four miles, until we came to Grizzly Gulch. Here we +turned off, by a prospectors' trail, up Grizzly. The old stage road +didn't go to Green Valley. Away off to the northwest, now, was the +Medicine Range that we must cross, to get at Green Valley on the other +side. It is a high, rough range, 13,000 and 14,000 feet, and has snow on +it all the year. In the middle was Pilot Peak, where we expected to +strike a pass. + +The prospect trail was fair, and we hustled. We didn't stop to eat much, +at noon; that would have taken our wind. The going was up grade and you +can't climb fast on a full stomach. We had a long march ahead of us, for +old Pilot Peak looked far and blue. + +Now and then the general let us stop, to puff for a moment; and the +packs had to be tightened after Sally's and Apache's stomachs had gone +down with exercise. We followed the trail single file, and about two +o'clock, by the sun, we reached the head of the gulch and came out on +top of the mesa there. + +We were hot and kind of tired (especially little Jed Smith, our +"fatty"); but we were not softies and this was no place to halt long. We +must cross and get under cover again. If anybody was spying on us we +could be seen too easy, up here. When you're pursuing, you keep to the +high ground, so as to see; but when you're pursued you keep to the low +ground, so as not to be seen. That was the trappers' way. + +I'll tell you what we did. There are two ways to throw pursuers off the +scent. We might have done as the Indians used to do. They would +separate, after a raid, and would spread out in a big fan-shape, every +one making a trail of his own, so that the soldiers would not know which +to follow; and after a long while they would come together again at some +point which they had agreed on. But we weren't ready to do this. It took +time, and we did not have any meeting-spot, exactly. So we left as big a +trail as we could, to make any town gang think that we were not +suspicious. That would throw them off their guard. + +Single file we traveled across the mesa, and at the other side we dipped +into a little draw. Here we found Ute Creek, which we had planned to +follow up to its headwaters in the Medicine Range. A creek makes a good +guide. A cow-trail ran beside it. + +"First-class Scout Fitzpatrick (that was Chris) and Second-class Scout +Bridger (that was I) drop out and watch the trail," commanded General +Ashley (that was Patrol Leader Roger Franklin). "Report at Bob Cat +Springs. We'll camp there for the night." + +Chris and I knew what to do. We gave a big leap aside, to a flat rock, +and the other Scouts continued right along; and because they were single +file the trail didn't show any difference. I don't suppose that the town +gang would have noticed, anyway; but you must never despise the enemy. + +From the flat rock Fitzpatrick and I stepped lightly, so as not to leave +much mark, on some dried grass, and made off up the side of the draw, +among the bushes. These grew as high as our shoulders, and formed a fine +ambuscade. We climbed far enough so that we could see both sides of the +draw and the trail in between; and by crawling we picked a good spot and +sat down. + +We knew that we must keep still, and not talk. We kept so still that +field-mice played over our feet, and a bee lit on Fitzpatrick. He didn't +brush it off. + +We could talk sign language; that makes no sound. Of course, Fitz could +talk with only one hand. He made the signs to watch down the trail, and +to listen; and I replied with men on horseback and be vigilant as a +wolf. (Note 12.) + +It wasn't bad, sitting here in the sunshine, amidst the brush. The draw +was very peaceful and smelled of sage. A magpie flew over, his black and +white tail sticking out behind him; and he saw us and yelled. Magpies +are awful sharp, that way. They're a good sign to watch. Everything +tells something to a Scout, when he's an expert. + +Sitting there, warm and comfortable, a fellow felt like going to sleep; +but Fitzpatrick was all eyes and ears, and I tried to be the same, as a +Scout should. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE NIGHT ATTACK + + +We must have been squatting for an hour and a half, and the sun was down +close to the top of the draw, behind us, when Fitzpatrick nudged me with +his foot, and nodded. He made the sign of birds flying up and pointed +down the trail, below, us; so that I knew somebody was coming, around a +turn there. (Note 13.) We scarcely breathed. We just sat and watched, +like two mountain lions waiting. + +Pretty soon they came riding along--four of them on horseback; we knew +the horses. The fellows were Bill Duane, Mike Delavan, Tony Matthews, +and Bert Hawley. They were laughing and talking because the trail we +made was plain and they thought that we all were pushing right on, and +if they could read sign they would know that the tracks were not extra +fresh. + +We let them get out of sight; then we went straight down upon the trail, +and followed, alongside, so as not to step on top of their tracks and +show that we had come after. + +We talked only by sign, and trailed slow, because they might be +listening or looking back. We wanted to find where they stopped. At +every turn we sneaked and Fitzpatrick stuck just his head around, to see +that the trail was clear. Suddenly he made sign to me that he saw them; +there were three on horseback, waiting, and one had gone on, walking, to +reconnoiter. + +So we had to back-trail until we could make a big circle and strike the +trail on ahead. This wasn't open country here; there were cedars and +pinyons and big rocks. We circuited up and around, out of sight from the +trail, and came in, bending low and walking carefully so as not to crack +sticks, to listen and examine for sign. We found strange tracks--soles +without hob-nails, pointing one way but not coming back. We hid behind a +cedar, and waited. In about fifteen minutes Bill Duane walked right past +us, back to the other fellows. + +Now we hurried on, for it was getting dark; and soon we smelled smoke, +and that meant camp. Fitzpatrick (who was a first-class Scout, while I +was only a second) reported to General Ashley the whereabouts of the +enemy. + +"Very well," said General Ashley. "Corporal Andrew Henry (that was Tom +Scott) and Second-class Scout Jed Smith (that was Dick Smith) will go +back a quarter of a mile and picket the trail until relieved; the rest +of us will proceed with camp duties." + +Major Henry and little Jed Smith set off. We finished establishing camp. +Two holes were dug for camp refuse; that was my business. Places for the +beds were cleared of sticks and things; that was Kit Carson's business. +General Ashley chopped a cedar stump for wood (cedar burns without soot, +you know); and Fitzpatrick cooked. The burros had been unpacked and the +flags planted before Fitzpatrick and I came in. We had to picket the +burros out, to graze, at first, or they might have gone back to town. Of +course, as we were short-handed, we had to do Henry's and Smith's work, +to-night, too: spread the beds before dark and bring water and such +things. (Note 14.) + +For supper we had bacon and two cans of the beans and biscuits baked in +a reflector, and coffee. (Note 15.) Major Henry and Jed Smith were not +getting any supper yet, because they were still on picket duty. But when +we were through General Ashley said, "Kit Carson, you and Jim Bridger +relieve Henry and Smith, and tell them to come in to supper." + +But just as we stood, to start, Major Henry walked in amongst us. He was +excited, and puffing, and he almost forgot to salute General Ashley, who +was Patrol leader. + +"They're planning to come!" he puffed. "I sneaked close to them and +heard 'em talking!" + +"Is this meant for a report?" asked General Ashley. And we others +snickered. It wasn't the right way to make a report. + +"Yes, sir," answered Henry. "That is, I reconnoitered the enemy's camp, +sir, and they're talking about us." + +"What did you hear?" + +"They're going to rush us when we're asleep, and scare us." + +"Very well," said General Ashley. "But you weren't ordered to do that. +You left your post, sir." + +"I thought you'd like to know. They didn't hear me," stammered Major +Henry. + +"You'd no business to go, just the same. Orders are orders. Where is +Smith?" + +"Watching on picket." + +"Did he go, too?" + +"No, sir." + +"You exceeded orders, and you ought to be court-martialed," said General +Ashley. And he was right, too. "But I'll give you another chance. When +is the enemy going to attack?" + +"After we're asleep." + +"What is he doing now?" + +"Eating and smoking and waiting, down the trail." + +"You can have some coffee and beans and bread, while we hold council. +Carson and Bridger can wait a minute." + +The council didn't take long. General Ashley's plan was splendid, a joke +and a counter-attack in one. Major Henry ate as much as he could, but he +wasn't filled up when he was sent out again, into the dark, with Kit +Carson. They were ordered to tell Jed Smith to come in, but they were to +go on. You'll see what happened. This double duty was Henry's +punishment. + +We cleaned up the camp, and then Jed Smith arrived. While he was eating +we made the beds. We drew up the tarpaulins, over blankets and quilts +rolled so that the beds looked exactly as if we were in them, our feet +to the fire (it was a little fire, of course) and our heads in shadow. +We tied the burros short; and then we went back into the cedars and +pinyons and sat down, quiet. + +It wasn't pitchy dark. When the sky is clear it never gets pitchy dark, +in the open; and there was a quarter-moon shining, too. The night was +very still. The breeze just rustled the trees, but we could hear our +hearts beat. Once, about a mile away, a coyote barked like a crazy +puppy. He was calling for company. The stars twinkled down through the +stiff branches, and I tried to see the Great Dipper, but that took too +much squirming around. + +We must not say a word, nor even whisper. We must just keep quiet, and +listen and wait. Down the trail poor Major Henry and Kit Carson were +having a harder time of it--but I would have liked to be along. + +All of a sudden Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand nudged me gently with his +knuckles, and I nudged Jed Smith, and Jed passed it on, and it went +around from one to the other, so we all knew. Somebody was coming! We +could hear a stick snap, and a little laugh, off in the timber; it +sounded as though somebody had run into a branch. We waited. The enemy +was stealing upon our camp. We hid our faces in our coats and our hands +in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting, sitting +this way, waiting for the attack. + +The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them +peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like +Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us--or what they thought was us. +They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to +scare us stiff with the noise--but you ought to have seen how quick they +quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It +was funny--and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they +stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again. + +"They aren't here," said Bill Duane. At a nudge from General Ashley we +had deployed, running low and swift, right and left. + +"Poke the fire, so we can see," said Bert Hawley. + +One of them did, so the fire blazed up--which was just what we wanted. +Now they were inside and we were outside. They began to talk. + +"We'll pile up the camp, anyway." + +"They're around somewhere." + +"Let's take their burros." + +"Take their flags." + +Then General Ashley spoke up. + +"No, you don't!" he said. "You let those things alone." + +That voice, coming out of the darkness around, must have made them jump, +and for a minute they didn't know what to do. Then-- + +"Why?" asked Bill Duane, kind of defiantly. + +"Wait a moment and we'll show you," answered General Ashley. + +He whistled loud, our Scouts' signal whistle; and off down the trail +Major Henry or Kit Carson whistled back, and added the whistle that +meant "All right." (Note 16.) + +"Hear that?" asked General Ashley. "That means we've got your horses!" + +Hurrah! So we had. You see, Major Henry and Kit Carson had been sent +back to watch the enemy's camp; and when the gang had left, on foot, to +surprise us, our two scouts had gone in and captured the horses. We +couldn't help but whoop and yell a little, in triumph. But General +Ashley ordered "Silence!" and we quit. + +"Aw, we were just fooling," said Tony Matthews. They talked together, +low, for a few moments; and Bill called: "Come on in. We won't hurt +you." + +"Of course you won't," said General Ashley. "But _we_ aren't fooling. We +mean business. We'll keep the horses until you've promised to clear out +and let this camp alone." + +"We don't want the horses. Two of 'em are hired and the longer you keep +them the more you'll have to pay." That was a lie. They didn't hire +horses. They borrowed. + +"We can sleep here very comfortably, kid," said Mike Delavan. + +"You'll not get much sleep in those beds," retorted General Ashley. +"Will they, boys!" + +And we all laughed and said "No!" + +"And after they've walked ten miles back to town, we'll bring in the +horses and tell how we took them." + +The enemy talked together low, again. + +"All right," said Bill Duane. "You give us our horses and we'll let the +camp alone." + +"Do you promise?" asked General Ashley. + +"Yes; didn't I say so?" + +"Do you, Mike?" + +"Sure; if you return those horses." + +"Do you, Tony and Bert?" + +"Uh huh." + +That was the best way--to make each promise separately; for some one of +them might have claimed that he hadn't promised with the rest. + +"Then go on down the trail, and you'll find the horses where you left +them." + +"How do we know?" + +"On the honor of a Scout," said General Ashley. "We won't try any +tricks, and don't you, for we'll be watching you until you start for +town." + +They grumbled back, and with Bill Duane in the lead stumbled for the +trail. General Ashley whistled the signal agreed upon, for Major Henry +and Kit Carson to tie the horses and to withdraw. We might have followed +the enemy; but we would have risked dividing our forces too much and +leaving the camp. We were safer here. + +So we waited, quiet; and after a time somebody signaled with the whistle +of the patrol. It was Kit Carson. + +"They've gone, sir," he reported, when General Ashley called him. + +"What did they say?" + +"They're mad; but they're going into town and they'll get back at us +later." + +"You saw them start, did you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Where's Henry?" + +"Waiting to see if they turn or anything." + +"They won't. They know we'll be ready for them. Shall we move camp, or +post sentries, boys?" + +We voted to post sentries. It seemed an awful job to move camp, at this +time of night, and make beds over again, and all that. It was only ten +o'clock by General Ashley's watch, but it felt later. So we built up the +fire, and set some coffee on, and called Major Henry in, and General +Ashley and Jed Smith took the first spell of two hours; then they were +to wake up Fitzpatrick and me, for the next two hours; and Major Henry +and Kit Carson would watch from two till four, when it would be growing +light. But we didn't have any more trouble that night. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE BIG TROUT + + +It was mighty hard work, turning out at five o'clock in the morning. +That was regulations, while on the march--to get up at five. The ones +who didn't turn out promptly had to do the dirty work--police the camp, +which is to clean it, you know. + +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand cooked; I helped, by opening packages, +preparing potatoes (if we had them), tending fire, etc.; Major Henry +chopped wood; Kit Carson and little Jed Smith looked after the burros, +Apache and Sally, and scouted in a circle for hostile sign; General +Ashley put the bedding in shape to pack. + +But first it was regulations to take a cold wet rub when we were near +water. It made us glow and kept us in good shape. Then we brushed our +teeth and combed our hair. (Note 17.) After breakfast we policed the +camp, and dumped everything into a hole, or burned it, so that we left +the place just about as we had found it. We stamped out the fire, or put +dirt and water on it, of course. Then we packed the burros. General +Ashley, Jed Smith, and Kit Carson packed Sally; Major Henry, Thomas +Fitzpatrick, and I packed Apache. And by six-thirty we were on our way. + +This morning we kept on up Ute Creek. It had its rise in Gray Bull +Basin, at the foot of old Pilot Peak, about forty miles away. We thought +we could make Gray Bull Basin in three days. Ten or twelve miles a day, +with burros, on the trail, up-hill all the way, is about as fast as +Scouts like us can keep going. Beyond Gray Bull we would have to find +our own trail over Pilot Peak. + +Everything was fine, this morning. Birds were hopping among the cedars +and spruces, and in some places the ground was red with wild +strawberries. Pine squirrels scolded at us, and we saw two rabbits; but +we didn't stop to shoot them. We had bacon, and could catch trout higher +up the creek. Here were some beaver dams, and around the first dam lived +a big trout that nobody had been able to land. The beaver dams were +famous camping places for parties who could go this far, and everybody +claimed to have hooked the big trout and to have lost him again. He was +a native Rocky Mountain trout, and weighed four pounds--but he was +educated. He wouldn't be caught. He had only one eye; that was how +people knew him. + +We didn't count upon that big trout, but we rather counted upon some +smaller ones; and anyway we must hustle on and put those ten miles +behind us before the enemy got in touch with us again. Our business was +to carry that message through, and not to stop and hunt or lose time +over uncalled-for things. + +The creek foamed and rushed; its water was amber, as if stained by pine +needles. Sometimes it ran among big bowlders, and sometimes it was +crossed by fallen trees. Thomas Fitzpatrick picked up a beaver cutting. +That was an aspen stick (beavers like aspen and willow bark best) about +as large as your wrist and two feet long. It was green and the ends were +fresh, so there were beavers above us. And it wasn't water-soaked, so +that it could not have been cut and in the water very long. We were +getting close. + +We traveled right along, and the country grew rougher. There were many +high bowlders, and we came to a canyon where the creek had cut between +great walls like a crack. There was no use in trying to go through this +canyon; the trail had faded out, and we were about to oblique off up the +hill on our side of the creek, to go around and strike the creek above +the canyon, when Kit Carson saw something caught on a brush-heap half in +the water, at the mouth of the canyon. + +It was a chain. He leaned out and took hold of the chain, and drew it in +to shore. On the other end was a trap, and in the trap was a beaver. The +chain was not tied to the brush; it had just caught there, so it must +have been washed down. Then up above somebody was trapping beaver, which +was against the law. The beaver was in pretty bad condition. He must +have been drowned for a week or more. The trap had no brand on it. +Usually traps are branded on the pan, but this wasn't and that went to +show that whoever was trapping knew better. The sight of that beaver, +killed uselessly, made us sick and mad both. But we couldn't do anything +about it, except to dig a hole and bury trap and all, so that the creek +would wash clean, as it ought to be. Then we climbed up the steep hill, +over rocks and flowers, and on top followed a ridge, until ahead we saw +the creek again. It was in a little meadow here, and down we went for +it. + +This was a beautiful spot. On one side the pines and spruces covered a +long slope which rose on and on until above timber line it was bare and +reddish gray; and away up were patches of snow; and beyond was the tip +of Pilot Peak. But on our side a forest fire had burned out the timber, +leaving only black stumps sticking up, with the ground covered by a new +growth of bushes. There was quite a difference between the two sides; +and we camped where we were, on the bare side, which was the safest for +a camp fire. It would have been a shame to spoil the other side, too. + +We were tired, after being up part of the night and climbing all the +morning, and this was a good place to stop. Plenty of dry wood, plenty +of water, and space to spread our beds. + +The creek was smooth and wide, here, about the middle of the park. The +beaver had been damming it. But although we looked about, after locating +camp and unpacking the burros, we couldn't find a fresh sign. We came +upon camp sign, though, two days old, at least. Somebody had trapped +every beaver and then had left. + +That seemed mean, because it was against the law to trap beaver, and +here they weren't doing any harm. But the fire had laid waste one shore +of the pond, and animal killers had laid waste the pond itself. + +We decided to have a big meal. There ought to be wild raspberries in +this burnt timber; wild raspberries always follow a forest fire--and +that is a queer thing, isn't it? So, after camp was laid out (which is +the first thing to do), and our flags set up, while Fitzpatrick the Bad +Hand and Major Henry built a fire and got things ready for dinner, +General Ashley and Kit Carson went after berries and little Jed Smith +and I were detailed to catch trout. + +We had lines and hooks, but we didn't bother to pack rods, because you +almost always can get willows. (Note 18.) Some fellows would have cut +green willows, because they bend. We knew better. We cut a dead willow +apiece. We were after meat, and not just sport; and when we had a trout +bite we wanted to yank him right out. A stiff, dead willow will do that. +Grasshoppers were whirring around, among the dried trunks and the grass. +That is what grasshoppers like, a place where it's hot and open. As a +rule you get bigger fish with bait than you do with a fly, so we put on +grasshoppers. I hate sticking a hook into a grasshopper, or a worm +either; and we killed our grasshoppers quick by smashing their heads +before we hooked them. + +It was going to be hard work, catching trout around this beaver pond. +The water was wide and smooth and shallow and clear, and a trout would +see you coming. When a trout knows that you are about, then the game is +off. Besides, lots of people had been fishing the pond, and the beaver +hunters must have been fishing it lately, according to sign. But that +made it all the more exciting. Little trout are caught easily, and the +big ones are left for the person who can outwit them. + +After we were ready, we reconnoitered. We sat down and studied to see +where we'd prefer to be if we were a big trout. A big trout usually +doesn't prowl about much. He gets a lair, in a hole or under a bank, and +stays close, eating whatever comes his way, and chasing out all the +smaller trout. Sometimes he swims into the ripples, to feed; but back he +goes to his lair again. + +So we studied the situation. There was no use in wading about, or +shaking the banks, and scaring trout, unless we had a plan. It looked to +me that if I were a big trout I'd be in a shady spot over across, where +the water swept around a low place of the dam and made a black eddy +under the branches of a spruce. Jed Smith said all right, I could try +that, and he would try where the bank on our side stuck out over the +water a little. + +I figured that my hole would be fished by about everybody from the +water. Most persons would wade across, and cast up-stream to the edge of +it; and if a trout was still there he would be watching out for that. So +the way to surprise him would be to sneak on him from a new direction. I +went down below, and crossed (over my boot-tops) to the other side, and +followed up through the timber. + +I had to crawl under the spruce--and I was mighty careful not to shake +the ground or to make any noise, for we needed fish. Nobody had been to +the hole from this direction; it was too hard work. By reaching out with +my pole I could just flip the hopper into the water. I tried twice; and +the second time I landed him right in the swirl. He hadn't floated an +inch when a yellowish thing calmly rose under him and he was gone! + +I jerked up with the willow, and the line tightened and began to tug. I +knew by the color and the way he swallowed the hopper without any fuss +that he was a king trout, and if I didn't haul him right in he'd break +the pole or tear loose. I shortened pole like lightning and grabbed the +line; but it got tangled in the branches of the spruce, and the trout +was hung up with just his nose out of water. + +Jiminy! but he was making the spray fly. He looked as big as a beaver, +and the hook was caught in the very edge of his lip. That made me hurry. +In a moment he'd be away. I suppose I leaned out too far, to grab the +line again, or to get him by the gills, for I slipped and dived +headfirst into the hole. + +Whew, but the water was cold! It took my breath--but I didn't care. All +I feared was that now I'd lost the fish. He weighed four pounds, by this +time, I was sure. As soon as I could stand and open my eyes I looked for +him. When I had dived in I must have shaken loose the line, for it was +under water again, and part of the pole, too. I sprawled for the pole +and grabbed it as it was sliding out. The line tightened. The trout was +still on. + +Now I must rustle for the shore. So I did, paying out the pole behind me +so as not to tear the hook free; and the minute I scrambled knee-deep, +with a big swing I hustled that trout in and landed him in the brush +just as he flopped off! + +I tell you, I was glad. Some persons would have wanted a reel and light +tackle, to play him--but we were after meat. + +"I've got one--a big one!" I yelled, across to where Jed Smith was. + +"So have I!" yelled little Jed back. + +I had picked my trout up. He wasn't so awful big, after all; only about +fifteen inches long, which means two pounds. He was an Eastern brook +trout. They grow larger in the cold water of the West than they do in +their own homes. But I looked for Jed--and then dropped my trout and +waded over to help _him_. + +He was out in the water, up to his waist, and something was jerking him +right along. + +"I can't get him out!" he called, as I was coming. "How big is yours?" + +"Fifteen inches." + +"This one's as big as I am--big native!" And you should have heard Jed +grunt, as the line just surged around, in the current. + +"Want any help?" I asked. + +"Uh uh. If he can lick me, then he ought to get away." + +"Where'd you catch him?" + +"Against the bank." + +"Swing him down the current and then lift him right in shore!" + +"Look out he doesn't tear loose!" + +"He'll break that pole!" + +Fitzpatrick and Major Henry were yelling at us from the fire; and then +Jed stubbed his toe on a rock and fell flat. He didn't let the pole go, +though. He came up sputtering and he was as wet as I. + +"Swing him down and then lift him right in!" kept shouting Fitz and +Major Henry. That was the best plan. + +"All right," answered Jed. "You take the pole and start him," he said to +me. "I'd have to haul him against the current." I was below him, of +course, so as to head the trout up-stream. + +He tossed the butt at me and I caught it. That was generous of Jed--to +let me get the fish out, when he'd been the one to hook it. But we were +Scouts together, and we were after meat for all, not glory for one. + +I took the pole and with a swing downstream kept Mr. Trout going until +he shot out to the edge of the pond, and there Fitz tumbled on top of +him and grabbed him with one hand by the gills. + +When we held him up we gave our Patrol yell: + + B. S. A.! B. S. A.! + Elks! Elks! Hoo-ray! + Oooooooooooo! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BEAVER MAN + + +For he was a great one, that trout! He was the big fellow that everybody +had been after, because he was twenty-six inches long and weighed four +pounds and had only one eye! That was good woodcraft, for a boy twelve +years old to sneak up on him and catch him with a willow pole and a line +tied fast and a grasshopper, when regular fishermen with fine outfits +had been trying right along. Of course they'll say we didn't give him +any show--but after he was hooked there was no use in torturing him. The +hooking is the principal part. + +Jed showed us how he had worked. He hadn't raised anything in the first +hole, by the bank, and he had gone on to another place that looked good. +Lots of people had fished this second place; there was a regular path to +it through the weeds, on the shore side; and below it, along the +shallows, the mud was full of tracks. But Jed had been smart. A trout +usually lies with his head up-stream, so as to gobble whatever comes +down. But here the current set in with a back-action, so that it made a +little eddy right against the bank--and a trout in that particular spot +would have his nose _downstream_. So Jed fished from the direction +opposite to that from which other persons had fished. He went around, +and approached from up-stream, awfully careful not to make any noise or +raise any settlings. Then he reached far and bounced his hopper from the +bank into the edge--as if it had fallen of itself--and it was gobbled +quick as a wink and the old trout pulled Jed in, too. + +So in fishing as in other scouting, I guess, you ought to do what the +enemy isn't expecting you to do. + +My trout was just a minnow beside of Jed's; and the two of them were all +we could eat, so we quit; Jed and I stripped off our wet clothes and +took a rub with a towel and sat in dry underclothes, while the wet stuff +was hung up in the sun. We felt fine. + +That was a great dinner. We rolled the trout in mud and baked them +whole. And we had fried potatoes, hot bread (or what people would call +biscuits), and wild raspberries with condensed milk. General Ashley and +Kit Carson had brought in a bucket of them. They were thick, back in the +burnt timber, and were just getting ripe. + +After the big dinner and the washing of the dishes we lay around +resting. Jed Smith and I couldn't do much until our clothes were dry. We +stuffed our boots with some newspapers we had, to help them dry. (Note +19.) While we were resting, Fitzpatrick made our "Sh!" sign which said +"Watch out! Danger!" and with his hand by his side pointed across the +beaver pond. + +We looked, with our eyes but not moving, so as not to attract attention. +Yes, a man had stepped out to the edge of the timber, at the upper end +of the pond and across, and was standing. Maybe he thought we didn't see +him, but we did. And he saw us, too; for after a moment he stepped back +again, and was gone. He had on a black slouch hat. He wasn't a large +man. + +We pretended not to have noticed him, until we were certain that he +wasn't spying from some other point. Then General Ashley spoke, in a low +tone: "He acted suspicious. We ought to reconnoiter. Scouts Fitzpatrick +and Bridger will circle around the upper end of the pond, and Scout Kit +Carson and I will circle the lower. Scouts Corporal Henry and Jed Smith +will guard camp." + +My boots were still wet, but I didn't mind. So we started off, in pairs, +which was the right way, Fitz and I for the upper end of the pond. I +carried a pole, as if we were going fishing, and we didn't hurry. We +sauntered through the brush, and where the creek was narrow we crossed +on some rocks, and followed the opposite shore down, a few yards back, +so as to cut the spy's tracks. I might not have found them, among the +spruce needles; but Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand did. He found a heel mark, +and by stooping down and looking along we could see a line where the +needles had been kicked up, to the shore. Marks show better, sometimes, +when you look this way, along the ground; but we could have followed, +anyhow, I think. + +The footprints were plain in the soft sand; if he had stood back a +little further, and had been more careful where he stepped, we might not +have found the tracks so easily; but he had stepped on some soft sand +and mud. We knew that he was not a large man, because we had seen him; +and we didn't believe that he was a prospector or a miner, because his +soles were not hobbed--or a cow-puncher, because he had no high heels to +sink in; he may have been a rancher, out looking about. + +"He must be left-handed," said Fitz. + +"Why?" I asked. + +"Because, see?" and then he told me. + +Sure enough. That was smart of Fitz, I thought. But he's splendid to +read sign. + +Now we followed the tracks back. The man had come down and had returned +by the same route. And up in the timber about fifty yards he had had a +horse. We read how he had been riding through, and had stopped, and got +off and walked down to the pond, and stood, and walked back and mounted +again and ridden on. All that was easy for Fitz, and I could read most +of it myself. + +We trailed the horse until the tracks surely went away from the pond +into the timber country; then we let it go, and met General Ashley, to +report. General Ashley and Kit Carson also examined the prints in the +sand, and we all agreed that the man probably was left-handed. + +Now, why had he come down to the edge of the pond, on purpose, and +looked at it and at us, and then turned up at a trot into the timber? It +would seem as if he might have been afraid that we had seen him, and he +didn't want to be seen. But all our guesses here and after we reached +camp again didn't amount to much, of course. + +We decided to stay for the night. It was a good camp place, and we +wouldn't gain anything, maybe, by starting on, near night, and getting +caught in the timber in the dark. And this would give the burros a good +rest and a fill-up before their climb. + +The burned stretch where we were was plumb full of live things--striped +chipmunks, and pine squirrels, and woodpecker families. Fitzpatrick +started in to take chipmunk pictures--and you ought to see how he can +manage a camera with one hand. He holds it between his knees or else +under his left arm, to draw the bellows out, and the rest is easy. + +He scouted about and got some pictures of chipmunks real close, by +waiting, and a picture of a woodpecker feeding young ones, at a hole in +a dead pine stump. This was a good place for bear to come, after the +berries; and we were hoping that one would amble in while we were there +so that Fitz could take a picture of it, too. Bears don't hurt people +unless people try to hurt them; and a bear would sooner have raspberries +than have a man or boy, any day. Fitzpatrick thought that if he could +get a good picture of a bear, out in the open, that would bring him a +Scout's honor. Of course, chipmunk pictures help, too. But while we were +resting and fooling and taking pictures, and General Ashley was bringing +his diary and his map up to date, for record, we had another visitor. +(Note 20.) + +A man came riding a dark bay horse, with white nose and white right fore +foot, along our side of the beaver pond, and halted at our camp. The +horse had left ear swallow-tailed and was branded with a Diamond Five on +the right shoulder. The man wasn't the man we had seen across the pond, +for he wore a sombrero, and was taller and had on overalls, and +cow-puncher boots. + +[Illustration] + +"Howdy?" he said. + +"How are you?" we answered. + +He sort of lazily dismounted, and yawned--but his sharp eyes were taking +us and our camp all in. + +"Out fishing?" he asked. + +"No, sir. Passing through," said General Ashley. + +"Going far?" + +"Over to Green Valley." + +"Walking?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Good place for beaver, isn't it?" + +"A bad place." + +"That so? Used to be some about here. Couldn't catch any, eh?" + +"We aren't trying. But it seems a bad place for beaver because the only +one we have seen is a dead one in a trap." + +The man waked up. "Whose trap?" + +"We don't know." And the general went on to explain. + +The man nodded. "I'm a deputy game warden," he said at last. "Somebody's +been trapping beaver in here, and it's got to stop. Haven't seen any one +pass through?" + +We had. The general reported. + +"Smallish man?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Roan hoss branded quarter circle D on the left hip? Brass-bound +stirrups?" + +"We didn't see the horse; but we think the man was left-handed," said +the general. + +"Why?" + +"He was left-footed, because there was a hole in the sole of the left +shoe, and that would look as though he used his left foot more than his +right. So we think he may be left-handed, too." (Note 21.) + +The game warden grunted. He eyed our flag. + +"You kids must be regular Boy Scouts." + +"We are." + +"Then I reckon you aren't catching any beaver. All right, I'll look for +a left-footed man, maybe left-handed. But it's this fellow on the roan +hoss I'm after. He's been trying to sell pelts. There's no use my +trailing him, to-day. But I'll send word ahead, and if you lads run +across him let somebody know. Where are you bound for?" + +The general told him. + +"By way of Pilot Peak?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I'll tell you a short cut. You see that strip of young timber +running up over the ridge? That's an old survey trail. It crosses to the +other side. Over beyond you'll strike Dixon's Park and a ruined +saw-mill. After that you can follow up Dixon's Creek." + +We thanked him and he mounted and rode away. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +TWO RECRUITS + + +When we got up in the morning, the mountains still had their night-caps +on. White mist was floating low about their tips, and lying in the +gulches like streams and lakes. Above timber-line, opposite us, was a +long layer of cloud, with the top of old Pilot Peak sticking through. + +This was a weather sign, although the sun rose clear and the sky was +blue. Nightcaps are apt to mean a showery day. (Note 22.) We took our +wet rub, ate breakfast, policed the camp and killed the fire, and +General Ashley put camphor and cotton against little Jed Smith's back +tooth, to stop some aching. Maybe there was a hole in the tooth, or +maybe Jed had just caught cold in it, after being wet; but he ought to +have had his teeth looked into before he started out on the scout. +(Note 23.) Anyway, the camphor stopped the ache--and made him dance, +too. + +We crossed the creek, above the beaver pond, and struck off into the old +survey trail that cut over the ridge. The brush was thick, and the trees +had sprung up again, so that really it wasn't a regular trail unless +you had known about it. The blazes on the side trees had closed over. +But all the same, by watching the scars, and by keeping in the line +where the trees always opened out, and by watching the sky as it showed +before, we followed right along. + +After we had been traveling about two hours, we heard thunder and that +made us hustle the more, to get out of the thin timber, so that we would +not be struck by lightning. (Note 24.) The wind moaned through the +trees. The rain was coming, sure. + +The trail was diagonally up-hill, all the way, and if we had been +cigarette smokers we wouldn't have had breath enough to hit the fast +pace that General Ashley set. The burros had to trot, and it made little +Jed Smith, who is kind of fat, wheeze; but we stuck it out and came to a +flat place of short dried grass and bushes, with no trees. Here we +stopped. We were about nine thousand feet up. + +From where we were we could see the storm. It was flowing down along a +bald-top mountain back from our camp at the beaver pond, and looked like +gray smoke. The sun was just being swallowed. Well, all we could do was +to wait and take it, and see how bad it was. We tied Sally and Apache to +some bushes, but we didn't unpack them, of course. The tarps on top +would keep the grub from getting wet. + +The storm made a grand sight, as it rolled toward us, over the timber. +And soon it was raining below us, down at the beaver pond--and then, +with a drizzle and a spatter, the rain reached us, too. + +We sat hunched, under our hats, and took it. We might have got under +blankets--but that would have given us soaked blankets for night, unless +we had stretched the tarps, too; and if we had stretched the tarps then +the rest of our packs would have suffered. The best way is to crawl +under a spruce, where the limbs have grown close to the ground. But not +in a thunder storm. And it is better to be wet yourself and have a dry +camp for night, than to be dry yourself and have a wet camp for night. + +Anyway, the rain didn't hurt us. While it thundered and lightened and +the drops pelted us well, we sang our Patrol song--which is a song like +one used by the Black feet Indians: + + "The Elk is our Medicine, + He makes us very strong. + The Elk is our Medicine, + The Elk is our Medicine, + The Elk is our Medicine, + He makes us very strong. + Ooooooooooooooooooooooo!" + +And when the thunder boomed we sang at it: + + "The _Thunder_ is our Medicine--" + +to show that we weren't afraid of it. + +The squall passed on over us, and when it had about quit we untied the +burros and started on again. In just a minute we were warm and sweating +and could shed our coats; and the sun came out hot to dry us off. + +We crossed the ridge, and on the other side we saw Dixon's Park. We knew +it was Dixon's Park, because the timber had been cut from it, and +Dixon's Park had had a saw-mill twenty years ago. + +Once this park had been grown over with trees, like the side of the +ridge where we had been climbing; but that saw-mill had felled +everything in sight, so that now there were only old stumps and dead +logs. It looked like a graveyard. If the mill had been watched, as most +mills are to-day, and had been made to leave part of the trees, then the +timber would have grown again. + +Down through the graveyard we went, and stopped for nooning at the +little creek which ran through the bottom. There weren't any fish in +this creek; the mill had killed the timber, and it had driven out the +fish with sawdust. It was just a dead place, and there didn't seem to be +even chipmunks. + +We had nooning at the ruins of the mill. Tin cans and old boot soles and +rusted pipe were still scattered about. We were a little tired, and more +rain was coming, so we made a fire by finding dry wood underneath slabs +and things, and had tea and bread and butter. That rested us. Little +Jed Smith was only twelve years old, and we had to travel to suit him +and not just to suit us bigger boys. I'm fourteen and Major Henry is +sixteen. All the afternoon was showery; first we were dry, then we were +wet; and there wasn't much fun about sloshing and slipping along; but we +pegged away, and climbed out of Dixon's Park to the ridge beyond it. Now +we could see old Pilot Peak plain, and keeping to the high ground we +made for it. It didn't look to be very far away; but we didn't know, +now, all the things that lay between. + +The top of this ridge was flat, and the forest reserve people had been +through and piled up the brush, so that a fire would not spread easily. +That made traveling good, and we hiked our best. Down in a gulch beside +us there was a stream: Dixon's Creek. But we kept to the high ground, +with our eyes open for a good camping spot, for the dark would close in +early if the rain did not quit. And nobody can pick a good camping place +in the dark. + +Regular rest means a great deal when you are traveling across country. +Even cowboys will tell you that. They bed down as comfortably as they +can, every time, on the round-up. + +After a while we came to a circular little spot, hard and flat, where +the timber had opened out. And General Ashley stopped and with a whirl +dug in his heel as sign that we would camp here. There was wood and +drainage and grass for the burros, and no danger of setting fire to the +trees if we made a big fire. We had to carry water up from the creek +below, but that was nothing. + +Now we must hustle and get the camp in shape quick, before the things +get wet. While Fitzpatrick picked out a spot for his fire and Major +Henry chopped wood, two of us unpacked each burro. We put the things +under a tarp, and I started to bring up the water, but General Ashley +spoke. + +"We're out of meat," he said. "You take the rifle and shoot a couple of +rabbits. There ought to be rabbits about after the rain." + +This suited me. He handed me the twenty-two rifle and five cartridges; +out of those five cartridges I knew I could get two rabbits or else I +wasn't any good as a hunter. The sun was shining once more, and the +shadows were long in the timber, so I turned to hunt against the sun, +and put my shadow behind me. Of course, that wouldn't make _very_ much +difference, because rabbits usually see you before you see them; but I +was out after meat and must not miss any chances. There always is a +right way and a wrong way. + +This was a splendid time to hunt for rabbits, right after a rain. They +come out then before dark, and nibble about. And you can walk on the +wetness without much noise. Early morning and the evening are the best +rabbit hours, anyway. + +I walked quick and straight-footed, looking far ahead, and right and +left, through the timber, to sight whatever moved. Yet I might be +passing close to a rabbit, without seeing him, for he would be +squatting. So I looked behind, too. And after I had walked about twenty +minutes, I did see a rabbit. He was hopping, at one side, through the +bushes; he gave only about three hops, and squatted, to let me pass. So +I stopped stock-still, and drew up my rifle. He was about thirty yards +away, and was just a bunch like a stone; but I held my breath and aimed +at where his ears joined his head, and fired quick. He just kicked a +little. That was a pretty good shot and I was glad, for I didn't want to +hurt him and we had to have meat. + +I hunted quite a while before I saw another rabbit. The next one was a +big old buck rabbit, because his hind quarters around his tail were +brown; young rabbits are white there. He hopped off, without stopping, +and I whistled at him--wheet! Then he stopped, and I missed him. I shot +over him, because I was in a hurry. I went across and saw where the +bullet had hit. And he had ducked. + +He hopped out of sight, through the brush; so I must figure where he +probably would go. On beyond was a hilly place, with rocks, and probably +he lived here--and rabbits usually make up-hill when they're +frightened. So I took a circle, to cut him off; and soon he hopped again +and squatted. This time I shot him through the head, where I aimed; so I +didn't hurt him, either. I picked him up and was starting back for camp, +because two rabbits were enough, when I heard somebody shouting. It +didn't sound like a Scout's shout, but I answered and waited and kept +answering, and in a few minutes a strange boy came running and walking +fast through the trees. He carried a single-barrel shotgun. + +He never would have seen me if I hadn't spoken; but when he wasn't more +than ten feet from me I said: "What's the matter?" + +He jumped and saw me standing. "Hello," he panted. "Was it you who was +shooting and calling?" + +"Yes." + +"Why didn't you come on, then?" he scolded. He was angry. + +"Because you were coming," I said. "I stood still and called back, to +guide you." + +"What did you shoot at?" + +"Rabbits." + +He hadn't seen them before, but now he saw them on the ground. "Aw, +jiminy!" he exclaimed. "We've got something better than that, but we +can't make a fire and our matches are all wet and so are our blankets, +and we don't know what to do. There's another fellow with me. We're +lost." + +He was a sight; wet and dirty and sweaty from running, and scared. + +"What are you doing? Camping?" I asked. + +He nodded. "We started for Duck Lake, with nothing but blankets and what +grub we could carry; but we got to chasing around and we missed the +trail and now we don't know where we are. Gee, but we're wet and cold. +Where's your camp?" + +"Back on the ridge." + +"Got a fire?" + +"Uh huh," I nodded. "Sure." + +"Come on," he said. "We'll go and get the other fellow and then we'll +camp near you so as to have some fire." + +"All right," I said. + +He led off, and I picked up the rabbits and followed. He kept hooting, +and the other boy answered, and we went down into the gulch where the +creek flowed. Now, that was the dickens of a place to camp! Anybody +ought to know better than to camp down at the bottom of a narrow gulch, +where it is damp and nasty and dark. They did it because it was beside +the water, and because there was some soft grass that they could lie on. +(Note 25.) + +The other boy was about seventeen, and was huddled in a blanket, trying +to scratch a match and light wet paper. He wore a big Colt's +six-shooter on a cartridge belt about his waist. + +"Come out, Bat," called the boy with me. "Here's a kid from another +camp, where they have fire and things." + +Bat grunted, and they gathered their blankets and a frying-pan and other +stuff. + +"Lookee! This beats rabbit," said the first boy (his name was Walt); and +he showed me what they had killed. It was four grouse! + +Now, that was mean. + +"It's against the law to kill grouse yet," I told him. + +"Aw, what do we care?" he answered. "Nobody knows." + +"It's only a week before the season opens, anyhow," spoke Bat. "We got +the old mother and all her chickens. If we hadn't, somebody would, +later." + +Fellows like that are as bad as a forest fire. Just because of them, +laws are made, and they break them and the rest of us keep them. + +We climbed out of the gulch, and I was so mad I let them carry their own +things. The woods were dusky, and I laid a straight course for camp. It +was easy to find, because I knew that I had hunted with my back to it, +in sound of the water on my left. All we had to do was to follow through +the ridge with the water on our right, and listen for voices. + +I tell you, that camp looked good. The boys had two fires, a big one to +dry us by and a little one to cook by. (Note 26.) One of the tarps had +been laid over a pole in crotched stakes, about four feet high, and tied +down at the ends (Note 27), for a dog-tent, and spruce trimmings and +brush had been piled behind for a wind-break and to reflect the heat. +Inside were the spruce needles that carpeted the ground and had been +kept dry by branches, and a second tarp had been laid to sleep on, with +the third tarp to cover us, on top of the blankets. The flags had been +set up. Fitzpatrick was cooking, Major Henry was dragging more wood to +burn, the fellows were drying damp stuff and stacking it safe under the +panniers, or else with their feet to the big blaze were drying +themselves, the burros were grazing close in. It was as light as day, +with the flames reflected on the trees and the flags, and it seemed just +like a trappers' bivouac. + +Then we walked into the circle; and when the fellows saw the rabbits +they gave a cheer. After I reported to General Ashley and turned the two +boys over to him, I cleaned the rabbits for supper. + +The two new boys, Bat and Walt, threw down their stuff and sat by the +fire to get warm. Bat still wore his big six-shooter. They dropped +their grouse in plain sight, but nobody said a word until Bat (he was +the larger one) spoke up, kind of grandly, when I was finishing the +rabbits: + +"There's some birds. If you'll clean 'em we'll help you eat 'em." + +"No, thanks. We don't want them," answered General Ashley. + +"Why not?" + +"It's against the law." + +"Aw, what difference does that make now?" demanded Walt. "There aren't +any game wardens 'round. And it's only a week before the law goes out, +anyway." + +"But the grouse are dead, just the same," retorted General Ashley. "They +couldn't be any deader, no matter how long it is before the law opens, +or if a game warden was right here!" He was getting angry, and when he's +angry he isn't afraid to say anything, because he's red-headed. + +"You'd like to go and tell, then; wouldn't you!" they sneered. + +"I'd tell if it would do any good." And he would, too; and so would any +of us. "The game laws are made to be kept. Those were our grouse and you +stole them." + +"Who are you?" + +"Well, we happen to be a bunch of Boy Scouts. But what I mean is, that +we fellows who keep the law let the game live on purpose so that +everybody will have an equal chance at it, and then fellows like you +come along and kill it unfairly. See?" + +Humph! The two kids mumbled and kicked at the fire, as they sat; and Bat +said: "We've got to have something to eat. I suppose we can cook our own +meat, can't we?" + +"I suppose you can," answered General Ashley, "if it'll taste good to +you." + +So, while Fitz was cooking on the small fire, they cleaned their own +birds (I didn't touch them) and cooked over some coals of the big fire. +But Fitz made bread enough for all, and there was other stuff; and the +general told them to help themselves. We didn't want to be mean. The +camp-fire is no place to be mean at. A mean fellow doesn't last long, +out camping. + +They had used bark for plates. They gave their fry-pan a hasty rub with +sticks and grass, and cleaned their knives by sticking them into the +ground; and then they squatted by the fire and lighted pipes. After our +dishes had been washed and things had been put away for the night, and +the burros picketed in fresh forage, we prepared to turn in. The clouds +were low and the sky was dark, and the air was damp and chilly; so +General Ashley said: + +"You fellows can bunk in with us, under the tarps. We can make room." + +But no! They just laughed. "Gwan," they said. "We're used to traveling +light. We just roll up in a blanket wherever we happen to be. We aren't +tenderfeet." + +Well, we weren't, either. But we tried to be comfortable. When you are +uncomfortable and sleep cold or crampy, that takes strength fighting it; +and we were on the march to get that message through. So we crawled into +bed, out of the wind and where the spruce branches partly sheltered us, +and our tarps kept the dampness out and the wind, too. The two fellows +opened their blankets (they had one apiece!) by the fire and lay down +and rolled up like logs and seemed to think that they were the smarter. +We let them, if they liked it so. + +The wind moaned through the trees; all about us the timber was dark and +lonesome. Only Apache and Sally, the burros, once in a while grunted as +they stood as far inside the circle as they could get; but snuggled in +our bed, low down, our heads on our coats, we were as warm as toast. + +During the night I woke up, to turn over. Now and then a drop of rain +hit the tarp tent. The fire was going again, and I could hear the two +fellows talking. They were sitting up, feeding it, and huddled Injun +fashion with their blankets over their shoulders, smoking their old +pipes, and thinking (I guessed) that they were doing something big, +being uncomfortable. But it takes more than such foolishness--wearing a +big six-shooter when there is nothing to shoot, and sleeping out in the +rain when cover is handy--to make a veteran. Veterans and real Scouts +act sensibly. (Note 28.) + +When next I woke and stretched, the sun was shining and it was time to +get up. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DISASTROUS DOZE + + +The two fellows were sound asleep when we turned out. They were lying in +the sun, rolled up and with their faces covered to keep the light away. +We didn't pay any attention to them, but had our wet rub and went ahead +attending to camp duties. After a while one of them (Walt, it was) +turned over, and wriggled, and threw the blanket off his face, and +blinked about. He was bleary-eyed and sticky-faced, as if he had slept +too hard but not long enough. And I didn't see how he had had enough air +to breathe. + +But he grinned, and yawned, and said: "You kids get up awful early. What +time is it?" + +"Six o'clock." + +He-haw! And he yawned some more. Then he sat up and let his blanket go +and kicked Bat. "Breakfast!" he shouted. + +That made Bat grunt and grumble and wriggle; and finally uncover, too. +They acted as if their mouths might taste bad, after the pipes. + +We hadn't made a big fire, of course; but breakfast was about ready, on +the little fire, and Fitz our cook sang out, according to our +regulations: "Chuck!" + +That was the camp's signal call. + +"If you fellows want to eat with us, draw up and help yourselves," +invited General Ashley. + +"Sure," they answered; and they crawled out of their blankets, and got +their pieces of bark, and opened their knives, and without washing their +faces or combing their hair they fished into the dishes, for bacon and +bread and sorghum and beans. + +That was messy; but we wanted to be hospitable, so we didn't say +anything. + +"Where are you kids bound for, anyway?" asked Bat. + +"Over the Divide," told General Ashley. + +"Why can't we go along?" + +That staggered us. They weren't our kind; and besides, we were all Boy +Scouts, and our party was big enough as it was. So for a moment nobody +answered. And then Walt spoke up. + +"Aw, we won't hurt you any. What you afraid of? We aren't tenderfeet, +and we'll do our share. We'll throw in our grub and we won't use your +dishes. We've got our own outfit." + +"I don't know. We'll have to vote on that," said General Ashley. "We're +a Patrol of Boy Scouts, traveling on business." + +"What's that--Boy Scouts?" demanded Bat. + +We explained, a little. + +"Take us in, then," said Walt. "We're good scouts--ain't we, Bat?" + +But they weren't. They didn't know anything about Scouts and Scouts' +work. + +"We could admit you as recruits, on the march," said General Ashley. +"But we can't swear you in." + +"Aw, we'll join the gang now and you can swear us in afterwards," said +Bat. + +"Well," said General Ashley, doubtfully, "we'll take a vote." + +We all drew off to one side, and sat in council. It seemed to me that we +might as well let them in. That would be doing them a good turn, and we +might help them to be clean and straight and obey the laws. Boys who +seem mean as dirt, to begin with, often are turned into fine Scouts. + +"Now we'll all vote just as we feel about it," said General Ashley. "One +black-ball will keep them out. 'N' means 'No'; 'Y' means 'Yes.'" + +The vote was taken by writing with a pencil on bits of paper, and the +bits were put into General Ashley's hat. Everything was "Y"--and the +vote was unanimous to let them join. So everybody must have felt the +same about it as I did. + +General Ashley reported to them. "You can come along," he said; "but +you've got to be under discipline, the same as the rest of us. And if +you prove to be Scouts' stuff you can be sworn in later. But I'm only a +Patrol leader and I can't swear you." + +"Sure!" they cried. "We'll be under discipline. Who's the boss? You?" + +We had made a mistake. Here started our trouble. But we didn't know. We +thought that we were doing the right thing by giving them a chance. You +never can tell. + +They volunteered to wash the dishes, and went at it; and we let them +throw their blankets and whatever else they wanted to get rid of in with +the packs. We were late; and anyway we didn't think it was best to start +in fussing and disciplining; they would see how Scouts did, and perhaps +they would catch on that way. Only-- + +"You'll have to cut that out," ordered General Ashley, as we were ready +to set out. He meant their pipes. They had stuck them in their mouths +and had lighted them. + +"What? Can't we hit the pipe?" they both cried. + +"Not with us," declared the general. "It's against the regulations." + +"Aw, gee!" they complained. "That's the best part of camping--to load up +the old pipe." + +"Not for a Scout. He likes fresh air," answered General Ashley. "He +needs his wind, too, and smoking takes the wind. Anyway, we're traveling +through the enemy's country, and a pipe smells, and it's against Scout +regulations to smoke." + +They stuffed their pipes into their pockets. + +"Who's the enemy?" they asked. + +"We're carrying a message and some other boys are trying to stop us. +That's all." + +"We saw some kids, on the other side of that ridge," they cried. +"They're from the same town you are. Are they the ones?" + +"What did they look like?" we asked. + +"One was a big kid with black eyes--" said Bat. + +"Aw, he wasn't big. The big kid had blue eyes," interrupted Walt. + +"How many in the party?" we asked. + +"Four," said Bat. + +"Five," said Walt. + +"Any horses?" + +"Yes." + +"What were the brands?" + +"We didn't notice," they said. + +"Was one horse a bay with a white nose, and another a black with a bob +tail?" + +"Guess so," they said. + +So we didn't know much more than we did before; we could only suspect. +Of course, there were other parties of boys camping, in this country. We +weren't the only ones. If Bat and Walt had been a little smart they +might have helped us. They didn't use their eyes. + +We followed the ridge we were on, as far as we could, because it was +high and free from brush. General Ashley and Major Henry led, as usual, +with the burros behind (those burros would follow now like dogs, where +there wasn't any trail for them to pick out), and then the rest of us, +the two recruits panting in the rear. Bat had belted on his big +six-shooter, and Walt carried the shotgun. + +We traveled fast, as usual, when we could; that gave us more time in the +bad places. Pilot Peak stuck up, beyond some hills, ahead. We kept an +eye on him, for he was our landmark, now that we had broken loose from +trails. He didn't seem any nearer than he was the day before. + +The ridge ended in a point, beyond which was a broad pasture-like +meadow, with the creek winding in a semicircle through it. On across was +a steep range of timber hills--and Pilot Peak and some other peaks rose +beyond, with snow and rocks. In the flat a few cattle were grazing, like +buffalo, and we could see an abandoned cabin which might have been a +trapper's shack. It was a great scene; so free and peaceful and wild and +gentle at the same time. + +We weren't tired, but we halted by the stream in the flat to rest the +burros and to eat something. We took off the packs, and built a little +fire of dry sage, and made tea, while Sally and Apache took a good roll +and then grazed on weeds and flowers and everything. This was fine, +here in the sunshine, with the blue sky over and the timber sloping up +on all sides, and the stream singing. + +After we had eaten some bread and drunk some tea we Scouts rested, to +digest; but Bat and Walt the two recruits loafed off, down the creek, +and when they got away a little we could see them smoking. On top of +that, they hadn't washed the dishes. So I washed them. + +After a while they came back on the run, but they weren't smoking now. +"Say!" they cried, excited. "We found some deer-tracks. Let's camp back +on the edge of the timber, and to-night when the deer come down to drink +we'll get one!" + +That was as bad as shooting grouse. It wasn't deer season. They didn't +seem to understand. + +"Against the law," said General Ashley. "And we're on the march, to go +through as quick as we can. It's time to pack." + +"I'll pack one of those burros. I'll show you how," offered Bat. So we +let them go ahead, because they might know more than we. They led up +Sally, while Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson began to pack +Apache. The recruits threw on the pack, all right, and passed the rope; +but Sally moved because they were so rough, and Bat swore and kicked her +in the stomach. + +"Get around there!" he said. + +"Here! You quit that," scolded Fitzpatrick, first. "That's no way to +treat an animal." He was angry; we all were angry. (Note 29.) + +"It's the way to treat this animal," retorted Bat. "I'll kick her head +off if she doesn't stand still. See?" + +"No, you won't," warned General Ashley. + +"If you can pack a burro so well, pack her yourself, then," answered +Walt. + +"Fitzpatrick, you and Jim Bridger help me with Sally," ordered the +general; and we did. We threw the diamond hitch in a jiffy and the pack +stuck on as if it were glued fast. + +The two recruits didn't have much more to say; but when we took up the +march again they sort of sulked along, behind. We thought best to follow +up the creek, through the flat, instead of making a straight climb of +the timber beyond. That would have been hard work, and slow work, and +you can travel a mile in the open in less time than you can travel half +a mile through brush. + +A cattle trail led up through the flat. This flat closed, and then +opened by a little pass into another flat. We saw plenty of tracks where +deer had come down to the creek and had drunk. There were tracks of +bucks, and of does and of fawns. Walt and Bat kept grumbling and +talking. They wanted to stop off and camp, and shoot. + +Pilot Peak was still on our left; but toward evening the trail we were +following turned off from the creek and climbed through gooseberry and +thimbleberry bushes to the top of a plateau, where was a park of cedars +and flowers, and where was a spring. General Ashley dug in with his +heel, and we off-packs, to camp. It was a mighty good camping spot, +again. (Note 30.) The timber thickened, beyond, and there was no sense +in going on into it, for the night. Into the heel mark we stuck the +flagstaff. + +We went right ahead with our routine. The recruits had a chance to help, +if they wanted to. But they loafed. There was plenty of time before +sunset. The sun shone here half an hour or more longer than down below. +We were up pretty high; some of the aspens had turned yellow, showing +that there had been a frost, already. So we thought that we must be up +about ten thousand feet. The stream we followed had flowed swift, +telling of a steep grade. + +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand got out his camera, to take pictures. He never +wasted any time. Not ordinary camp pictures, you know, but valuable +pictures, of animals and sunsets and things. Jays and speckled +woodpeckers were hopping about, and a pine-squirrel sat on a limb and +scolded at us until he found that we were there to fit in and be company +for him. One side of the plateau fell off into rocks and cliffs, and a +big red ground-hog was lying out on a shelf in the sunset, and +whistling his call. + +Fitz was bound to have a picture of him, and sneaked around, to stalk +him and snap him, close. But just as he was started--"Bang!" I jumped +three feet; we all jumped. It was that fellow Bat. He had shot off his +forty-five Colt's, at the squirrel, and with it smoking in his hand he +was grinning, as if he had played a joke on us. He hadn't hit the +squirrel, but it had disappeared. The ground-hog disappeared, the jays +and the woodpeckers flew off, and after the report died away you +couldn't hear a sound or see an animal. The gun had given notice to the +wild life to vacate, until we were gone. And where that bullet hit, +nobody could tell. + +Fitzpatrick turned around and came back. He knew it wasn't much use +trying, now. We were disgusted, but General Ashley was the one to speak, +because he was Patrol leader. + +"You ought not to do that. Shooting around camp isn't allowed," he said. +"It's dangerous, and it scares things away." + +"I wanted that squirrel. I almost hit him, too," answered Bat. + +"Well, he was protected by camp law." (Note 31.) + +"Aw, all you kids are too fresh," put in Walt, the other. "We'll shoot +as much as we please, or else we'll pull out." + +"If you can't do as the rest of us do, all right: pull," answered the +general. + +"Let them. We don't want them," said Major Henry. "We didn't ask them in +the first place. What's the sense in carrying a big revolver around, and +playing tough!" + +"That will do, Henry," answered the general. "I'm talking for the +Patrol." + +"Come on, Walt. We'll take our stuff and pull out and make our own +camp," said Bat. "We won't be bossed by any red-headed kid--or any +one-armed kid, either." He was referring to the gun and to the burro +packing, both. + +Major Henry began to sputter and growl. A black-eyed boy is as spunky as +a red-headed one. And we all stood up, ready, if there was to be a +fight. But there wasn't. It wasn't necessary. General Ashley flushed +considerably, but he kept his temper. + +"That's all right," he said. "If you can't obey discipline, like the +rest, you don't camp with us." + +"And we don't intend to, you bet," retorted Walt. "We're as good as you +are and a little better, maybe. We're no tenderfeet!" + +They gathered their blankets and their frying-pan and other outfit, and +they stalked off about a hundred yards, further into the cedars, and +dumped their things for their own camp. + +Maybe they thought that we'd try to make them get out entirely, but we +didn't own the place; it was a free camp for all, and as long as they +didn't interfere with us we had no right to interfere with them. We made +our fire and they started theirs; and then I was sent out to hunt for +meat again. + +I headed away from camp, and I got one rabbit and a great big +ground-hog. Some people won't eat ground-hog, but they don't know what +is good; only, he must be cleaned right away. Well, I was almost at camp +again when "Whish! Bang!" somebody had shot and had spattered all around +me, stinging my ear and rapping me on the coat and putting a couple of +holes in my hat. I dropped flat, in a hurry. + +"Hey!" I yelled. "Look out there! What you doing?" + +But it was "Bang!" again, and more shot whizzing by; this time none hit +me. Now I ran and sat behind a rock. And after a while I made for camp, +and I was glad to reach it. + +I was still some stirred up about being peppered, and so I went straight +to the other fire. The two fellows were there cleaning a couple of +squirrels. + +"Who shot them?" I asked. + +"Walt." + +"And he nearly filled me full of holes, too," I said. "Look at my hat." + +"Who nearly filled you full of holes?" asked Walt. + +"You did." + +"Aw, I didn't, either. I wasn't anywhere near you." + +"You were, too," I answered, hot. "You shot right down over the hill, +and when I yelled at you, you shot again." + +Walt was well scared. + +"'Twasn't me," he said. "I saw you start out and I went opposite." + +"Well, you ought to be careful, shooting in the direction of camp," I +said. + +"Didn't hurt you." + +"It might have put my eyes out, just the same." And I had to go back and +clean my game and gun. We had a good supper. The other fellows kept to +their own camp and we could smell them smoking cigarettes. With them +close, and with news that another crowd was out, we were obliged to +mount night guard. + +There was no use in two of us staying awake at the same time, and we +divided the night into four watches--eight to eleven, eleven to one, one +to three, three to five. The first watch was longest, because it was the +easiest watch. We drew lots for the partners who would sleep all night, +and Jed Smith and Major Henry found they wouldn't have to watch. We four +others would. + +Fitz went on guard first, from eight to eleven. At eleven he would wake +Carson, and would crawl into Carson's place beside of General Ashley. +At one Carson would wake me, and would crawl into my place where I was +alone. And at three I would wake General Ashley and crawl into his place +beside Fitz again. So we would disturb each other just as little as +possible and only at long intervals. (Note 32.) + +It seemed to me that I had the worst watch of all--from one to three; it +broke my night right in two. Of course a Scout takes what duty comes, +and says nothing. But jiminy, I was sleepy when Carson woke me and I had +to stagger out into the dark and the cold. He cuddled down in a hurry +into my warm nest and there I was, on guard over the sleeping camp, here +in the timber far away from lights or houses or people. + +The fire was out, but I could see by star shine. Low in the west was a +half moon, just sinking behind the mountains there. Down in the flat +which we had left coyotes were barking. Maybe they smelled fawns. +Somebody was snoring. That was fatty Jed Smith. He and Major Henry were +having a fine sleep. So were all the rest, under the whity tarps which +looked ghostly and queer. + +And I went to sleep, too! + +That was awful, for a Scout on guard. I don't know why I couldn't keep +awake, but I couldn't. I tried every way. I rubbed my eyes, and I dipped +water out of the spring and washed my face, and I dropped the blanket I +was wearing, so that I would be cold. And I walked in a circle. Then I +thought that maybe if I sat down with the blanket about me, I would be +better off. So I sat down. If I could let my eyes close for just a +second, to rest them, I would be all right. And they did close--and when +I opened them I was sort of toppled over against the tree, and was stiff +and astonished--and it was broad morning and I hadn't wakened General +Ashley! + +I staggered up as quick as I could. I looked around. Things seemed to be +O. K. and quiet and peaceful--but suddenly I missed the flags, and then +I missed the burros! + +Yes, sir! The flagstaff was gone, leaving the hole where it had been +stuck. And the burros were gone, picket ropes and all! The place where +they ought to be appeared mighty vacant. And now I sure was frightened. +I hustled to the camp of the two boys, Bat and Walt, and they were gone. +That looked bad. + +My duty now was to arouse our camp and give the alarm, so I must wake +General Ashley. You can imagine how I hated to. I almost was sore +because he hadn't waked up, himself, at three o'clock, instead of +waiting for me and letting me sleep. + +But I shook him, and he sat up, blinking. I saluted. "It's after four +o'clock," I reported, "and I slept on guard and the flags and the burros +are gone." And then I wanted to cry, but I didn't. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HELD BY THE ENEMY + + +"Oh, the dickens!" stammered General Ashley; and out he rolled, in a +hurry. He didn't stop to blame me. "Have you looked for sign?" + +"The burros might have strayed, but the flags couldn't and only the hole +is there. And those two fellows of the other camp are gone, already." + +General Ashley began to pull on his shoes and lace them. + +"Rouse the camp," he ordered. + +So I did. And to every one I said: "I slept on guard and the flags and +the burros are gone." + +I was willing to be shot, or discharged, or anything; and I didn't have +a single solitary excuse. I didn't try to think one up. + +The general took Fitzpatrick, who is our best trailer, and Major Henry, +and started in to work out the sign, while the rest of us hustled with +breakfast. The ground about the flag hole was trampled and not much +could be done there; and not much could be done right where the burros +had stood, because we all from both camps had been roaming around. But +the general and Fitz and Major Henry circled, wider and wider, watching +out for burro tracks pointing back down the trail, or else out into the +timber. The hoofs of the burros would cut in, where the feet of the two +fellows might not have left any mark. Pretty soon the burro tracks were +found, and boot-heels, too; and while Fitzpatrick followed the trail a +little farther the general and Major Henry came back to the camp. +Breakfast was ready. + +"Fitzpatrick and Jim Bridger and I will take the trail of the burros, +and you other three stay here," said General Ashley. "If we don't come +back by morning, or if you don't see smoke-signals from us that we're +all right, you cache the stuff and come after us." + +That was splendid of the general to give me a chance to make good on the +trail. It was better than if he'd ordered me close in camp, or had not +paid any attention to me. + +Fitz returned, puffing. He had followed the trail a quarter of a mile +and it grew plainer as the two fellows had hurried more. We ate a big +breakfast (we three especially, I mean), and prepared for the trail. We +tied on our coats in a roll like blankets, but we took no blankets, for +we must travel light. We stuffed some bread and chocolate into our coat +pockets, and we were certain that we had matches and knife. I took the +short bow and arrows, as game getter; but we left the rifle for the +camp. We would not have used a rifle, anyway. It made noise; and we must +get the burros by Scoutcraft alone. But those burros we would have, and +the flags. The general slung one of the Patrol's ropes about him, in +case we had to rope the burros. + +We set right out, Fitzpatrick leading, as chief trailer. Much depended +upon our speed, and that is why we traveled light; for you never can +follow a trail as fast as it was made, and we must overtake those +fellows by traveling longer. They were handicapped by the burros, +though, which helped us. + +We planned to keep going, and eat on the march, and by night sneak on +the camp. + +The trail wasn't hard to follow. Burro tracks are different from cow +tracks and horse tracks and deer tracks; they are small and +oblong--narrow like a colt's hoof squeezed together or like little mule +tracks. The two fellows used the cattle trail, and Fitzpatrick read the +sign for us. + +"They had to lead the burros," he said. "The burros' tracks are on top +of the sole tracks." + +We hurried. And then-- + +"Now they're driving 'em," he said. "They're stepping on top of the +burro tracks; and I think that they're all on the trot, too, by the way +the burros' hind hoofs overlap the front hoofs, and dig in." + +We hurried more, at Scout pace, which is trotting and walking mixed. And +next-- + +"Now they've got on the burros," said Fitz. "There aren't any sole +tracks and the burros' hoofs dig deeper." + +The fellows surely were making time. I could imagine how they kicked and +licked Sally and Apache, to hasten. And while we hastened, too, we must +watch the signs and be cautious that we didn't overrun or get ambushed. +Where the sun shone we could tell that the sign was still an hour or +more old, because the edges of the hoof-marks were baked hard; and +sticks and stones turned up had dried. And in the shade the bits of +needles and grass stepped on had straightened a little. And there were +other signs, but we chose those which we could read the quickest. (Note +33.) + +We were high up among cedars and bushes, on a big mesa. There were +cattle, here, and grassy parks for them. Most of the cattle bore a Big W +brand. The trail the cattle had made kept dividing and petering out, and +we had to pick the one that the burros took. The fellows were riding, +still, but not at a trot so much. Maybe they thought that we had been +left, by this time. Pretty soon the burros had been grabbing at branches +and weeds, which showed that they were going slower, and were hungry; +and the fellows had got off and were walking. The sun was high and the +air was dry, so that the signs were not so easy to read, and we went +slower, too. The country up here grew open and rocky, and at last we +lost the trail altogether. That was bad. The general and I circled and +scouted, at the sides, and Fitz went on ahead, to pick it up beyond, +maybe. Pretty soon we heard him whistle the Elks' call. + +He had come out upon a rocky point. The timber ended, and before and +right and left was a great rolling valley, of short grasses and just a +few scattered trees, with long slopes holding it like a cup. The sun was +shining down, and the air was clear and quivery. + +"I see them," said Fitz. "There they are, General--in a line between us +and that other point of rocks." + +Hurrah! This was great news. Sure enough, when we had bent low and +sneaked to the rocks, and were looking, we could make out two specks +creeping up the sunshine slope, among the few trees, opposite. + +That was good, and it was bad. The thieves were not a mile ahead of us, +then, but now we must scout in earnest. It would not do for us to keep +to the trail across that open valley. Some fellows might have rushed +right along; and if the other fellows were sharp they would be looking +back, at such a spot, to watch for pursuers. So we must make a big +circuit, and stay out of sight, and hit the trail again on the other +side. + +We crept back under cover, left a "warning" sign on the trail (Note +34), and swung around, and one at a time we crossed the valley higher +up, where it was narrower and there was brush for cover. This took time, +but it was the proper scouting; and now we hurried our best along the +other slope to pick up the trail once more. + +It was after noon, by the sun, and we hadn't stopped to eat, and we were +hungry and hot and pretty tired. + +As we never talked much on the trail, especially when we might be near +the enemy, Fitzpatrick made a sign that we climb straight to the top of +the slope and follow along there, to strike the trail. And if the +fellows had turned off anywhere, in gulch or to camp, we were better +fixed above them than below them. + +We scouted carefully along this ridge, and came to a gulch. A path led +through, where cattle had traveled, and in the damp dirt were the burro +tracks. Hurrah! They were soft and fresh. + +The sun was going to set early, in a cloud bank, and those fellows would +be camping soon. It was no use to rush them when they were traveling; +they had guns and would hang on to the burros. The way to do was to +crawl into their camp. So we traveled slower, in order to give them time +to camp. + +After a while we smelled smoke. The timber was thick, and the general +and I each climbed a tree, to see where that smoke came from. I was away +at the top of a pine, and from that tree the view was grand. Pilot Peak +stood up in the wrong direction, as if we had been going around, and +mountains and timber were everywhere. I saw the smoke. And away to the +north, ten miles, it seemed to me I could see another smoke, with the +sun showing it up. It was a column smoke, and I guessed that it was a +smoke signal set by the three Scouts we had left, to show us where camp +was. + +But the smoke that we were after rose in a blue haze above the trees +down in a little park about a quarter of a mile on our right. We left a +"warning" sign, and stalked the smoke. + +Although Fitzpatrick has only one whole arm, he can stalk as well as any +of us. We advanced cautiously, and could smell the smoke stronger and +stronger; we began to stoop and to crawl and when we had wriggled we +must halt and listen. We could not hear anybody talking. + +The general led, and Fitz and I crawled behind him, in a snake scout. I +think that maybe we might have done better if we had stalked from three +directions. Everything was very quiet, and when we could see where the +fire ought to be we made scarcely a sound. The general brushed out of +his way any twigs that would crack. + +It was a fine stalk. We approached from behind a cedar, and parting the +branches the general looked through. He beckoned to us, and we wriggled +along and looked through. There was a fire, and our flags stuck beside +it, and Sally and Apache standing tied to a bush, and blankets thrown +down--but not anybody at home! The two fellows must be out fishing or +hunting, and this seemed a good chance. + +The general signed. We all were to rush in, Fitz would grab the flag, +and I a burro and the general a burro, and we would skip out and travel +fast, across country. + +I knew that by separating and turning and other tricks we would outwit +those two kids, if we got any kind of a start. + +We listened, holding our breath. Nobody seemed near. Now was the time. +The general stood, Fitz and I stood, and in we darted. Fitz grabbed the +flag, and I was just hauling at Sally while the general slashed the +picket-ropes with his knife, when there rose a tremendous yell and laugh +and from all about people charged in on us. + +Before we could escape we were seized. They were eight to our three. Two +of them were the two kids Bat and Walt, and the other six were town +fellows--Bill Duane, Tony Matthews, Bert Hawley, Mike Delavan, and a +couple more. + +How they whooped! We felt cheap. The camp had been a trap. The two kids +Bat and Walt had come upon the other crowd accidentally, and had told +about us and that maybe we were trailing them, and they all had ambushed +us. We ought to have reconnoitered more, instead of thinking about +stalking. We ought to have been more suspicious, and not have +underestimated the enemy. (Note 35.) This was just a made-to-order +camp. The camp of the town gang was about three hundred yards away, +lower, in another open place, by a creek. They tied our arms and led us +down there. + +"Aw, we thought you fellers were Scouts!" jeered Bat. "You're easy." + +He and Walt took the credit right to themselves. + +"What do you want with us?" demanded General Ashley, of Bill Duane. "We +haven't done anything to harm you." + +"We'll show you," said Bill. "First we're going to skin you, and then +we're going to burn you at the stake, and then we're going to kill you." + +Of course we knew that he was only fooling; but it was a bad fix, just +the same. They might keep us, for meanness; and Major Henry and Kit +Carson and Jed Smith wouldn't know exactly what to do and we'd be +wasting valuable time. That was the worst: we were delaying the message! +And I had myself to blame for this, because I went to sleep on guard. A +little mistake may lead to a lot of trouble. + +And now the worst happened. When they got us to the main camp Bill Duane +walked up to General Ashley and said: "Where you got that message, Red?" + +"What message?" answered General Ashley. + +"Aw, get out!" laughed Bill. "If we untie you will you fork it over or +do you want me to search you?" + +"'Tisn't your message, and if I had it I wouldn't give it to you. But +you'd better untie us, just the same. And we want those burros and our +flags." + +"Hold him till I search him, fellows," said Bill. "He's got it, I bet. +He's the Big Scout." + +Fitz and I couldn't do a thing. One of the gang put his arm under the +general's chin and held him tight, and Bill Duane went through him. He +didn't find the message in any pockets; but he saw the buckskin thong, +and hauled on it, and out came the packet from under the general's +shirt. + +Bill put it in his own pocket. + +"There!" he said. "Now what you going to do about it?" + +The general was as red all over as his hair and looked as if he wanted +to fight or cry. Fitz was white and red in spots, and I was so mad I +shook. + +"Nothing, now," said the general, huskily. "You don't give us a chance +to do anything. You're a lot of cowards--tying us up and searching us, +and taking our things." + +[Illustration: "BILL DUANE WENT THROUGH HIM."] + +Then they laughed at us some more, and all jeered and made fun, and said +that they would take the message through for us. I tell you, it was +humiliating, to be bound that way, as prisoners, and to think that we +had failed in our trust. As Scouts we had been no good--and I was to +blame just because I had fallen asleep at my post. + +They were beginning to quit laughing at us, and were starting to get +supper, when suddenly I heard horse's hoofs, and down the bridle path +that led along an edge of the park rode a man. He heard the noise and he +saw us tied, I guess, for he came over. + +"What's the matter here?" he asked. + +The gang calmed down in a twinkling. They weren't so brash, now. + +"Nothin'," said Bill. + +"Who you got here? What's the rumpus?" he insisted. + +"They've taken us prisoners and are keeping us, and they've got our +burros and flags and a message," spoke up the general. + +He was a small man with a black mustache and blackish whiskers growing. +He rode a bay horse with a K Cross on its right shoulder, and the saddle +had brass-bound stirrups. He wore a black slouch hat and was in black +shirt-sleeves, and ordinary pants and shoes. + +"What message?" he asked. + +"A message we were carrying." + +"Where?" + +"Across from our town to Green Valley." + +"Why?" + +"Just for fun." + +"Aw, that's a lie. They were to get twenty-five dollars for doing it on +time. Now we cash it in ourselves," spoke Bill. "It was a race, and they +don't make good. See?" + +That was a lie, sure. We weren't to be paid a cent--and we didn't want +to be paid. + +"Who's got the message now?" asked the man. + +"He has," said the general, pointing at Bill. + +"Let's see it." + +Bill backed away. + +"I ain't, either," he said. Which was another lie. + +"Let's see it," repeated the man. "I might like to make that twenty-five +dollars myself." + +Now Bill was sorry he had told that first lie. The first is the one that +gives the most trouble. + +"Who are you?" he said, scared, and backing away some more. + +"Never you mind who I am," answered the man--biting his words off short; +and he rode right for Bill. He stuck his face forward. It was hard and +dark and mean. "Hand--over--that--message. Savvy?" + +Bill was nothing but a big bluff and a coward. You would have known +that he was a coward, by the lies he had told and by the way he had +attacked us. He wilted right down. + +"Aw, I was just fooling," he said. "I was going to give it back to 'em. +Here 'tis. There ain't no prize offered, anyhow." And he handed it to +the man. + +The man turned it over in his fingers. We watched. We hoped he'd make +them untie us and he'd pass it to us and tell us to skip. But after he +had turned it over and over, he smiled, kind of grimly, and stuck it in +his hip pocket. + +"I reckon I'd like to make that twenty-five dollars myself," he said. +And then he rode to one side, and dismounted; he loosened the cinches +and made ready as if to camp. And they all let him. + +Now, that was bad for us, again. The gang had our flags and our burros, +and he had our message. + +"That's our message. We're carrying it through just for fun and for +practice," called the general. "It's no good to anybody except us." + +"Bueno," said the man--which is Mexican or Spanish for "Good." He was +squatting and building a little fire. + +"Aren't you going to give it to us and make them let us go?" + +He grunted. "Don't bother me. I'm busy." + +That was all we could get out of him. Now it was growing dark and cold. +The gang was grumbling and accusing Bill of being "bluffed" and all +that, but they didn't make any effort to attack the man. They all were +afraid of him; they didn't have nerve. They just grumbled and talked of +what Bill ought to have done, and proceeded to cook supper and to loaf +around. Our hands were behind our backs and we were tied like dogs to +trees. + +And suddenly, while watching the man, I noticed that he was doing things +left-handed, and quick as a wink I saw that the sole of his left shoe +was worn through! And if he wasn't riding a roan horse, he was riding a +saddle with brass-bound stirrups, anyway. A man may trade horses, but he +keeps to his own saddle. This was the beaver man! We three Scouts +exchanged signs of warning. + +"You aren't going to tie us for all night, are you?" demanded +Fitzpatrick. + +"Sure," said Bill. + +"We'll give you our parole not to try to escape," offered General +Ashley. + +"What's that?" + +"We'll promise," I explained. + +Then they all jeered. + +"Aw, promise!" they laughed. "We know all about your promises." + +"Scouts don't break their promises," answered the general, hot. "When +we give our parole we mean it. And if we decided to try to escape we'd +tell you and take the parole back. We want to be untied so we can eat." + +"All right. We'll untie you," said Bill; and I saw him wink at the other +fellows. + +They did. They loosened our hands--but they put ropes on our feet! We +could just walk, and that is all. And Walt (he and Bat were cooking) +poked the fire with our flagstaff. Then he sat on the flags! I tell you, +we were angry! + +"This doesn't count," sputtered the general, red as fury. + +"You gave us your parole if we'd untie you," jeered Bill. "And we did." + +"But you tied us up again." + +"We didn't say anything about that. You said if we'd untie you, so you +could eat, you wouldn't run away. Well, we untied you, didn't we?" + +"That isn't fair. You know what we meant," retorted Fitz. + +"We know what you said," they laughed. + +"Aw, cut it out," growled the man, from his own fire. "You make too much +noise. I'm tired." + +"Chuck," called Walt, for supper. + +They stuck us between them, and we all ate. Whew, but it was a dirty +camp. The dishes weren't clean and the stuff to eat was messy, and the +fellows all swore and talked as bad as they could. It was a shame--and +it seemed a bigger shame because here in the park everything was +intended to be quiet and neat and ought to make you feel _good_. + +After supper they quarreled as to who would wash the dishes, and finally +one washed and one wiped, and the rest lay around and smoked pipes and +cigarettes. Over at his side of the little park the man had rolled up +and was still. But I knew that he was watching, because he was smoking, +too. + +We couldn't do anything, even if we had planned to. We might have untied +the ropes on our feet, but the gang sat close about us. Then, they had +the flags and the burros, and the man had the message; and if they had +been wise they would have known that we wouldn't go far. Of course, we +might have hung about and bothered them. + +They made each of us sleep with one of them. They had some dirty old +quilts, and we all rolled up. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NEW USE FOR A CAMERA + + +We were stiff when we woke in the morning, but we had to lie until the +rest of them decided to get up, and then it was hot and late. That was a +lazy camp as well as a dirty one. The early morning is the best part of +the day, out in the woods, but lots of fellows don't seem to think so. + +I had slept with Bat, and he had snored 'most all night. Now as soon as +I could raise my head from the old quilts I looked over to see the man. +He wasn't there. His horse wasn't there and his fire wasn't burning. The +spot where he had camped was vacant. He had gone, with our message! + +I wriggled loose from Bat and woke him, and he swore and tried to make +me lie still, but I wouldn't. Not much! + +"Red!" I called, not caring whether I woke anybody else or not. "Red! +General!" I used both names--and I didn't care for that, either. + +He wriggled, too, to sit up. + +"What?" + +"The man's gone. He isn't there. He's gone with the message!" + +The general exclaimed, and worked to jerk loose from Bill; and Fitz's +head bobbed up. There wasn't any more sleep for that camp, now. + +"Oh, shut up!" growled Bill. + +"You fellows turn us loose," we ordered. "We've got to go. We've got to +follow that man." + +But they wouldn't, of course. They just laughed, and said: "No, you +don't want to go. You've given us your parole; see?" and they pulled us +down into the quilts again, and yawned and would sleep some more, until +they found it was no use, and first one and then another kicked off the +covers and sat up, too. + +The sun was high and all the birds and bees and squirrels were busy for +the day. At least two hours had been wasted, already. + +Half of the fellows didn't wash at all, and all we Scouts were allowed +to do was to wash our faces, with a lick and a promise, at the creek, +under guard. We missed our morning cold wet rub. The camp hadn't been +policed, and seemed dirtier than ever. Tin cans were scattered about, +and pieces of bacon and of other stuff, and there was nothing sanitary +or regular. Our flags were dusty and wrinkled; and that hurt. The only +thing homelike was Apache and Sally, our burros, grazing on weeds and +grass near the camp. But they didn't notice us particularly. + +We didn't have anything more to say. The fellows began to smoke +cigarettes and pipes as soon as they were up, and made the fire and +cooked some bacon and fried some potatoes, and we all ate, with the +flies buzzing around. A dirty camp attracts flies, and the flies stepped +in all sorts of stuff and then stepped in our food and on us, too. Whew! +Ugh! + +We would have liked to make a smoke signal, to let Major Henry and Jed +Smith and Kit Carson know where we were, but there seemed no way. They +would be starting out after us, according to instructions, and we didn't +want them to be captured. We knew that they would be coming, because +they were Scouts and Scouts obey orders. They can be depended upon. + +I guess it was ten o'clock before we were through the messy breakfast, +and then most of the gang went off fishing and fooling around. + +"Aren't you going to untie our feet?" asked the general. + +"Do you give us your promise not to skip?" answered Bill. + +"We'll give our parole till twelve o'clock." + +We knew what the general was planning. By twelve o'clock something might +happen--the other Scouts might be near, then, and we wanted to be free +to help them.-- + +"Will you give us your parole if we tie your feet, loose, instead of +your hands?" + +"Yes," said the general; and Fitzpatrick and I nodded. Jiminy, we didn't +want our hands tied, on this hot day. + +So they hobbled our feet, and tethered us to a tree. They tied the knots +tight--knot after knot; and then they went off laughing, but they left +Walt and Bat to watch us! That wasn't fair. It broke our parole for us, +really, for they hadn't accepted it under the conditions we had offered +it. (Note 36.) + +"Don't you fellows get to monkeying, now," warned Bat, "or we'll tie you +tighter. If you skip we've got your burros and your flags." + +That was so. + +"We know that," replied the general, meekly; but I could see that he was +boiling, inside. + +It was awful stupid, just sitting, with those two fellows watching. Bat +wore his big revolver, and Walt had his shotgun. They smoked their +bad-smelling pipes, and played with an old deck of cards. Camping +doesn't seem to amount to much with some fellows, except as a place to +be dirty in and to smoke and play cards. They might as well be in town. + +"Shall we escape?" I signed to the general. (Note 37.) + +"No," he signed back. "Wait till twelve o'clock." He was going to keep +our word, even if we did have a right to break it. + +"Hand me my camera, will you, please?" asked Fitz, politely. + +"What do you want of it?" demanded Walt. + +"I want to use it. We haven't anything else to do." + +"Sure," said Walt; he tossed it over. "Take pictures of yourselves, and +show folks how you smart Scouts were fooled." + +I didn't see what Fitz could use his camera on, here. And he didn't seem +to be using it. He kept it beside him, was all. There weren't any +animals around this kind of a camp. But the general and I didn't ask him +any questions. He was wise, was old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and +probably he had some scheme up his sleeve. + +We just sat. The two fellows played cards and smoked and talked rough +and loud, and wasted their time this way. The sun was mighty hot, and +they yawned and yawned. Tobacco smoking so much made them stupid. But we +yawned, too. The general made the sleep sign to Fitz and me, and we +nodded. The general and I stretched out and were quiet. I really was +sleepy; we had had a hard night. + +"You fellows going to sleep?" asked Walt. + +We grunted at him. + +"Then we'll tie your hands and we'll go to sleep," he said. "Come on, +Bat. Maybe it's a put-up job." + +"No, sir; that wasn't in the bargain," objected the general. + +"Aw, we got your parole till twelve o'clock, but we're going to tie you +anyway," replied that Walt. "We didn't say how long we'd leave your +hands loose. We aren't going to sit around and keep awake, watching you +guys. When we wake up we untie you again." + +We couldn't do anything; and they tied the general's hands and my hands, +but Fitzpatrick begged off. + +"I want to use my camera," he claimed. "And I've got only one hand +anyway. I can't untie knots with one hand." + +They didn't know how clever Fitz was; so they just moved him and +fastened him by the waist to a tree where he couldn't reach us. + +"We'll be watching and listening," they warned. "And if you try any +foolishness you'll get hurt." + +They stretched out, and pretended to snooze. I didn't see, myself, how +Fitz could untie those hard knots with his one hand, in time to do any +good. They were hard knots, drawn tight, and the rope was a +clothes-line; and he was set against a tree with the rope about his +body and the knots behind him on the other side of the tree. I didn't +believe that Bat and Walt would sleep hard; but while I waited to see +what would happen next, I dozed off, myself. + +Something tapped me on the head, and I woke up in a jiffy. Fitz must +have tossed a twig at me, because when I looked over at him he made the +silence sign. He was busy; and what do you think? He had taken his +camera apart, and unscrewed the lenses, and had focused on the rope +about him. He had wriggled so that the sun shone on the lenses, and a +little spire of smoke was rising from him. Bat and Walt were asleep; +they never made a move, but they both snored. And Fitz was burning his +rope in two, on his body. + +It didn't take very long, because the sun was so hot and the lenses were +strong. The rope charred and fumed, and he snapped it; and then he began +on his feet. Good old Fitz! If only he got loose before those two +fellows woke. The general was watching him, too. + +Walt grunted and rolled over and bleared around, and Fitz quit +instantly, and sat still as if tied and fooling with his camera. Walt +thought that everything was all right and rolled over; and after a +moment Fitz continued. Pretty soon he was through. And now came the most +ticklish time of all. + +He waited and made a false move or two, to be certain that Walt and Bat +weren't shamming; and then he snapped the rope about his body and +gradually unwound it and then he snapped the rope that bound together +his feet. Now he began to crawl for the two fellows. Inch by inch he +moved along, like an Indian; and he never made a sound. That was good +scouting for anybody, and especially for a one-armed boy, I tell you! +The general and I scarcely breathed. My heart thumped so that I was +afraid it would shake the ground. + +When he got near enough, Fitz reached cautiously, and pulled away the +shotgun. Like lightning he opened the breech and shook loose the shell +and kicked it out of the way--and when he closed the breech with a jerk +Bat woke up. + +"You keep quiet," snapped Fitz. His eyes were blazing. "If either of you +makes a fuss, I'll pull the trigger." He had the gun aiming straight at +them both. Walt woke, too, and was trying to discover what happened. "Be +quiet, now!" + +Those two fellows were frightened stiff. The gun looked ugly, with its +round muzzle leveled at their stomachs, and Fitz behind, his cheeks red +and his eyes angry and steady. But it was funny, too; he might have +pulled trigger, but nothing would have happened, because the gun wasn't +loaded. Of course none of us Scouts would have shot anybody and had +blood on our hands. Fitz had thrown away the shell on purpose so that +there wouldn't be any accident. It's bad to point a gun, whether loaded +or not, at any one. This was a have-to case. Bat and Walt didn't know. +They were white as sheets, and lay rigid. + +"Don't you shoot. Look out! That gun might go off," they pleaded; we +could hear their teeth chatter. "If you won't point it at us we'll do +anything you say." + +"You bet you'll do anything I say," snapped Fitz, very savage. "You had +us, and now we have you! Unbuckle that belt, you Bat. Don't you touch +the revolver, though. I'm mad and I mean business." + +Bat's fingers trembled and he fussed at the belt and unbuckled it, and +off came belt and revolver, and all. + +"Toss 'em over." + +He tossed them. Fitz put his foot on them. + +"Aw, what do you let that one-armed kid bluff you for?" began Walt; and +Fitz caught him up as quick as a wink. + +"What are _you_ talking about?" he asked. "I'll give you a job, too. You +take your knife and help cut those two Scouts loose." + +"Ain't got a knife," grumbled Walt. + +"Yes, you have. I've seen it. Will you, or do you want me to pull +trigger?" + +"You wouldn't dare." + +"Wouldn't I? You watch this finger." + +"Look out, Walt!" begged Bat. "He will! I know he will! See his finger? +He might do it by accident. Quit, Fitz. We'll cut 'em." + +"Don't get up. Just roll," ordered Fitz. + +They rolled. He kept the muzzle right on them. Walt cut me free (his +hands were shaking as bad as Bat's), and Bat cut the general free. + +We stood up. But there wasn't time for congratulations, or anything like +that. No. We must skip. + +"Quick!" bade Fitz. "Tie their feet. My rope will do; it was a long +one." + +"How'd _you_ get loose?" snarled Walt. + +"None of your business," retorted Fitz. + +We pulled on the knots hard--and they weren't any granny knots, either, +that would work loose. We tied their feet, and then with a bowline noose +tied their elbows behind their backs--which was quicker than tying their +wrists. (Note 38.) + +Fitz dropped the shotgun and grabbed his camera. + +"You gave your parole," whined Bat. + +"It's after twelve," answered the general. + +And then Walt uttered a tremendous yell--and there was an answering +whoop near at hand. The rest of the gang were coming back. + +"Run!" ordered the general. "Meet at the old camp." + +We ran, and scattered. We didn't stop for the burros, or anything more, +except that as I passed I grabbed up the bow and arrows and with one +jerk I ripped our flags loose from the pole, where it was lying. + +This delayed me for a second. Walt and Bat were yelling the alarm, and +feet were hurrying and voices were answering. I caught a glimpse of the +general and Fitz plunging into brush at one side, and I made for another +point. + +"There they go! Stop 'em!" were calling Walt and Bat. + +Tony Matthews was coming so fast that he almost dived into me; but I +dodged him and away I went, into the timber and the brush, with him +pelting after. Now all the timber was full of cries and threats, and +"Bang! Bang!" sounded a gun. But I didn't stop to look around. I +scudded, with Tony thumping behind me. + +"You halt!" ordered Tony. "Head him off!" he called. + +I dodged again, around a cedar, and ran in a new direction, up a slope, +through grass and just a sprinkling of trees. Now was the time to prove +what a Scout's training was good for, in giving him lungs and legs and +endurance. So I ran at a springy lope, up-hill, as a rabbit does. Two +voices were panting at me; I saved my breath for something better than +talk. The puffing grew fainter, and finally when I couldn't hear it, or +any other sound near, I did halt and look around. + +The pursuit was still going on behind and below, near where the gang's +camp was. I could hear the shouts, and "Bang! Bang!" but shouts and +shooting wouldn't capture the general and Fitz, I knew. Tony and the +other fellow who had been chasing me had quit--and now I saw the general +and Fitz. They must have had to double and dodge, because they had not +got so far away: but here they came, out from the trees, into an open +space, across from me, and they were running strong and swift for the +slope beyond. If it was a case of speed and wind, none of that smoking, +flabby crowd could catch them. + +Fitz was ahead, the general was about ten feet behind, and much farther +behind streamed the gang, Bill Delaney leading and the rest lumbering +after. Tony and the other fellow had flopped down, and never stirred to +help. They were done for. + +It was quite exciting, to watch; and as the general and Fitz were +drawing right away and escaping, I wanted to cheer. They turned sharp to +make straight up-hill--and then the general fell. He must have slipped. +He picked himself up almost before he had touched the ground and plunged +on, but down he toppled, like a wounded deer. Fitzpatrick, who was +climbing fast off at one side, saw. + +"Hurt?" I heard him call. + +"No," answered the general. "Go on." + +But Fitz didn't keep on. He turned and came right to him, although the +enemy was drawing close. The general staggered up, and sat down again. + +I knew what was being said, now, although I couldn't hear anything +except the jeers of the gang as they increased speed. The general was +hurt, and he was telling Fitz to go and save himself, and Fitz wouldn't. +He sat there, too, and waited. Then, just as the gang closed in, and +Bill Delaney reached to grab Fitz, the general saw me and made me the +sign to go on, and the sign of a horse and rider. + +Yes, that was my part, now. I was the one who must follow the beaver +man, who had taken our message. The message was the most important +thing. We must get that through no matter what happened. And while Fitz +and the general could help each other, inside, I could be trailing the +message, and maybe finding Henry and Carson and Smith, outside. + +So I started on. The enemy was leading the general, who could just +hobble, and Fitz, back to the camp. Loyal old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +who had helped his comrade instead of saving himself! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JIM BRIDGER ON THE TRAIL + + +I turned, and climbed the hill. It was a long hill, and hot, but I +wanted to get up where I could see. The top was grassy and bare, and +here I stopped, to find out where things were. + +Off in one direction (which was southwest, by the sun) rose Pilot Peak, +rocky and snowy, with the main range stretching on either side of it. +But between Pilot Peak and me there lay a big country of heavy timber. +Yes, in every direction was heavy timber. I had run without thinking, +and now it was pretty hard to tell exactly where I was. + +I stood for a minute and tried to figure in what direction that beaver +man probably had ridden. He had come in on our left, as we sat, and had +probably gone along toward our right. I tried to remember which way the +shadows had fallen, in the sunset, and which way west had been, from our +right or left as we were sitting. + +Finally I was quite certain that the shadows had fallen sort of +quartering, from right to left, and so the man probably had made toward +the west. It was a good thing that I had noticed the shadows, but to +notice little things is a Scout's training. + +I stuffed the flags inside my shirt, and tied my coat about me; only one +arrow was left, out of six; the five others must have fallen when I was +running. And I was hungry and didn't have a thing to eat, because when +the gang had captured us they had taken our bread and chocolate, along +with our match-boxes and knives and other stuff. That was mean of them. +But with a look about for smoke signals I took my bow and started across +the top of the hill. + +It was to be the lone trail and the hungry trail for Jim Bridger. But he +had slept on post, and he was paying for it. Now if he (that was I, you +know) only could get back that message, and thus make good, he wouldn't +mind lonesomeness or hunger or thirst or tiredness or wet or anything. + +I wasn't afraid of the gang overtaking me or finding me, if I kept my +wits about me. And after I was over the brow of the hill I swung into +the west, at Scouts' pace of trot and walk mixed. This took me along the +top of the hill, to a draw or little valley that cut through. The draw +was thick with spruces and pines and was brushy at the bottom, so I went +around the head of it. That was easier than climbing down and up +again--and the draw would have been a bad place to be cornered in. + +I watched out for trails, but I did not cross a thing, and I began to +edge down to strike that stream which passed the gang's camp. Often +trails follow along streams, where the cattle and horses travel. The man +who had our message might have used this trail but although I edged and +edged, keeping right according to the sun, I didn't strike that stream. +Up and down and up again, through the trees and through the open places +I toiled and sweated; and every time I came out upon a ridge, expecting +to be at the top of somewhere, another ridge waited; and every time I +reached the bottom of a draw or gulch, expecting that here was my stream +or a trail, or both, I found that I was fooled again. + +This up and down country covered by timber is a mighty easy country to +be lost in. I wasn't lost--the stream was lost. No, I wasn't lost; but +when I came out upon a rocky ridge, and climbed to the top of a bunch of +granite there, the world was all turned around. Pilot Peak had changed +shape and was behind me when it ought to have been before. West was +west, because the sun was setting in it, but it seemed queer. You see, I +had been zigzagging about to make easy climbs out of draws and gulches, +and to dodge rocks and brush--and here I was. (Note 39.) + +You may believe that now I was mighty hungry and thirsty, and I was +tired, too. This was a fine place to see from, and I sat on a ledge and +looked about, mapping the country. That was Pilot Peak, away off on the +left; and that was the Medicine Range, on either side of it. It was the +range that we Scouts must cross, if ever we got to it. But between me +and the range lay miles of rolling timber, and all about below me lay +the timber, with here and there bare rocky points sticking up like the +tips of breakers in an ocean and here and there little winding valleys, +like the oily streaks in the ocean. Away off in one valley seemed to be +a cleared field where grain had been cut; but no ranch house was there. +It was just a patch. In all this big country I was the only +inhabitant--I and the wild things. + +Well, I must camp for the night. The sun was setting behind the +mountains. If I tried traveling blind by night I might get all tangled +up in the timber and brush and be in a bad fix. Up here it was dry and +open and the rocks would shelter me from the wind. I tried to be calm +and reasonable and use Scout sense; and I decided to stay right where I +was, till morning. + +But jiminy, I was hungry and thirsty, and I wanted a fire, too. This was +pretty good experience, to be lost without food or drink or matches, or +even a knife--it was pretty good experience if I managed right. + +There were plenty of dead dried branches scattered here among the +rocks, and pack-rats had made a nest of firewood. But first, as seemed +to me, I must get a drink and something for supper. I had only that one +arrow to depend on, for game, and if I waited much longer then I might +lose it in the dusk. Not an easy shot had shown itself, either, during +all the time I had been traveling. + +Water was liable to be down there somewhere, in those valleys, and I +looked to see which was the greenest or which had any willows. To the +greenest it seemed a long way. Then I had a clue. I saw a flock of +grouse. They sailed out from the timber and across and slanted down into +a gulch. More followed. They acted as if they were bound somewhere on +purpose, and I remembered that grouse usually drink before they go to +bed. + +These were so far away, below me, that I couldn't make out whether they +were sage grouse, or the blue grouse, or the fool grouse. If they were +sage grouse, I might not get near enough to them to shoot sure with my +one arrow. If they were blue grouse, that would be bad, too, for blue +grouse are sharp. If they were fool grouse, I ought to get one. I marked +exactly where they sailed for, and down I went, keeping my eye on the +spot. Now I must use Scoutcraft for water and food. If I couldn't manage +a fire, I could chew meat raw. + +Yes, I remembered that it was against the law to kill grouse, yet. I +thought about it a minute; and decided that the law did not intend that +a starving person should not kill just enough for meat when he had +nothing else. I was willing to tell the first ranger or game warden, and +pay a fine--but I must eat. And I hoped that what I was trying to do was +all right. Motives count, in law, don't they? + +Down I went, as fast as I could go. The sun was just sinking out of +sight. It was the lonesome time of day for a fellow without fire or food +or shelter, in the places where nobody lived, and I wouldn't have +objected much if I'd been home at the supper table. + +I reached the bottom of the hill. It ended at the edge of some aspens. +Their white trunks were ghostly in the twilight. Across through the +aspens I hurried, straight as I could go; and I came out into a grassy, +boggy place--a basin where water from the hills around was seeping! +Hurrah! It was a regular spring, and the water ran trickling away, down +through a gulch. + +Grasses grew high: wild timothy and wild oats and gama grass, mingled +with flowers. Along the trickle were willows, too. With the aspens and +the willows and the seed grasses and the water this was a fine place for +grouse. I looked for sign, on the edge of the wetness, and I saw where +birds had been scratching and taking dust baths, in a patch of sage. + +Stepping slowly, and keeping sharp lookout, I reconnoitered about the +place; I was so excited that I didn't stop to drink. And +suddenly--whirr-rr-rr! With a tremendous noise up flew two grouse, and +three more, and lit in the willows right before me. I guess I was +nervous, I wanted them so bad; for I jumped back and stumbled and fell, +and broke the arrow square in two with my knee. + +That made me sick. Here was my supper waiting for me, and I had spoiled +my chances. I wanted to cry. + +Those acted like fool grouse. They sat with their heads and necks +stretched, watching me and everything else. I picked up the two pieces +of my arrow; and then I looked about for a straight reed or willow twig +that might do. Something rustled right before me, and there was another +grouse! It had been sitting near enough to bite me and I hadn't seen it. + +By the feathers I knew it was a fool grouse. Was it going to fly, or +not? I stood perfectly still, and then I squatted gradually and gave it +time. After it had waggled its head around, it moved a little and began +to peck and cackle; and I could hear other cackles answering. If I only +could creep near enough to hit it with a stick. + +I reached a dead willow stick, and squatting as I was I hitched forward, +inch by inch. Whenever the grouse raised its silly head I scarcely +breathed. The grass was clumpy, and once behind a clump I wriggled +forward faster. With the clump between me and the grouse I approached as +close as I dared. The grouse was only four or five feet away. It must be +now or never, for when once the grouse began to fly for their night's +roost mine would go, too. + +Fool grouse you can knock off of limbs with a stone, or with a club when +they are low enough and when they happen to be feeling in the mood to be +knocked. Behind my clump I braced my toes, and out I sprang and swiped +hard, but the grouse fluttered up, just the same, squawking. I hit +again, hard and quick, and struck it down, and I pounced on it and had +it! Yes, sir, I had it! All around me grouse were flying and whirring +off, and those in the tree joined them; but I didn't care now. + +I lay on my stomach and took a long drink of water, and back I hustled +for camp. + +Down here the dark had gathered; but up on the hill the light stayed, +and of course the top of the hill, where my camp was, would be light +longest. Now if I only could manage a fire. I had an idea--a good Scout +idea. + +First I picked out a place for the night. In one spot the faces of two +rocks met at an angle. The grass here was dead and softish, and the wind +blowing off the snowy range on the west didn't get in. I gathered a +bunch of the grass, and tore my handkerchief with my teeth and mixed +some ravelings of that in and tied a nest, with a handle to it. Then I +got some of the dry twigs lying about, and had them ready. Then I found +a piece of flinty rock--I think it was quartzite; and I took off a shoe +and struck the rock on the hob nails, over the nest of grass. + +It worked! The sparks flew and landed in the loose knot, and I blew to +start them. After I had been trying, I saw a little smoke, and smelled +it; and so I grabbed the nest by its handle and swung it. It caught +fire, and in a jiffy I had it on the ground, with twigs across it--and I +was fixed. A fire makes a big difference. I wasn't lonesome any more. +This camp was home. (Note 40.) + +I was so hungry that I didn't more than half cook the grouse by holding +pieces on a stick over the blaze, trapper style. While I gnawed I went +out around the rocks and watched the sunset. It was glorious, and the +pink and gold lasted, with the snowy range and old Pilot Peak showing +sharp and cold against it. Up here I was right in the twilight, while +below the timber and the valleys were dark. + +I must collect wood while I could see, beginning with the pieces +furthest away. Down at the bottom of the hill I had marked a big branch; +and out I hiked and hauled it up. That camp looked grand when I came in +again; the bottom of the hill was gloomy, but here I had a fire. + +The sunset was done; everything was dark; the stars were shining all +through the sky; from the timber below queer cries and calls floated up +to me, but there was nothing to be afraid of. I was minding my business, +and animals would be minding theirs. So I moved the fire forward a +little from the angle of the rocks, and sat in the angle myself. Wow, +but it was warm and nice! I couldn't make a big fire, because I didn't +want to run out of fuel; but the little fire was better, as long as it +was large enough to be cheerful and to warm me. I spliced my broken +arrow with string. + +This was real Scout coziness. Of course, I sort of wished that Fitz or +little Jed Smith or somebody else was there, for company; but I'd done +pretty well. I tried to study the stars--but as I sat I kept nodding and +dozing off, and waking with a jerk, and so I pulled the thick part of +the branch across the fire and shoved in the scattered ends. Then I +wrapped the flags about my neck and over my head, and sitting flat with +my back against the rock I went to sleep. Indians say that they keep +warm best by covering their shoulders and head, even if they can't cover +their legs. + +Something woke me with a start. I lay shivering and listening. The fire +flickered low, the sky was close above me, darkness was around about, +and behind me was a rustle, rustle, patter, patter. At first I was silly +and frightened; but with a jump I quit that and ordered, loud: + +"Get out of there!" + +Wild animals are especially afraid of the human voice; and whatever this +was it scampered away. Then I decided that it was only a pack-rat. +Anyhow, there would be nothing out here in these hills to attack a human +being while he slept. Even the smell of a human being will keep most +animals off. They're suspicious of him. And I thought of the hundreds of +old-time trappers and hunters, and of the prospectors and ranchers and +range-riders, who had slept right out in the timber, in a blanket, and +who never had been molested at all. So I didn't reckon that anything was +going to climb this hill to get _me_! + +I stirred about and built the fire, and got warm. The Guardians of the +Pole had moved around a quarter of the clock, at least, and the moon was +away over in the west, so I knew that I must have slept quite a while. +(Note 41.) + +The night was very quiet. Here on the hill I felt like a Robinson Crusoe +marooned on his island. I stood and peered about; everywhere below was +the dark timber; the moon was about to set behind the snowy range; +overhead were the stars--thousands of them in a black sky, which curved +down on all sides. + +The Milky Way was plain. The Indians say that is the trail the dead +warriors take to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I could see the North Star, +of course, and I could see the Papoose on the Squaw's back, in the +handle of the Great Dipper; so I had Scout's eyesight. In the west was +the evening star--Jupiter, I guessed. Off south was the Scorpion, and +the big red star Antares. I wished that the Lost Children were dancing +in the sky, but they had not come yet. (Note 42.) + +It made me calm, to get out this way and look at the stars. I'd been +lucky, so far, to have fire and supper and a good camp, and I decided +that I would get that message--or help get it. Somewhere down in that +world of timber were Major Henry and Kit Carson and little Jed Smith, on +the trail; and General Ashley and wise Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +planning to escape; and the man who had the message. And here was I, on +detail that seemed to have happened, and yet seemed to have been +ordered, too. And watchful and steady as the stars, above us was the +Great Commander, who knew just how things would come out, here in the +hills the same as in the cities. It's kind of comforting, when a fellow +realizes that he can't get lost entirely, and that Somebody knows where +he is and what he is doing, and what he wants to do. + +In the morning I would strike off southwest, and keep going until I came +to a trail where the beaver man had traveled, or until I had some sight +of him or news of him. + +By the Pointers it was midnight. So after thinking things over I fed the +fire and warmed my back; then I hunched into the angle and with the two +flags about my shoulders and over my head I started to snooze off. Some +animal kept rustling and pattering, but I let it rustle and patter. + +Just as I was snoozing, I remembered that to-morrow--that _to-day_ was +Sunday! Yes; I counted, and we had left town on Monday and we had been +out six days. I supposed that I ought to rest on Sunday; but I didn't +see how I could, fixed as I was; and I hoped that if I took the trail I +would be understood. (Note 43.) + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE RED FOX PATROL + + +When I woke up I was safe and sound, but I had thrown off the flags and +I was stiff and cold. Now I could see all about me--see the rocks and +the grass and the ashes of the fire; so morning had come. That was good. + +After I had yawned and stretched and straightened out, I gave a little +dance to start my circulation. Then I built the fire from the coals that +were left, and cooked the rest of the grouse, and had breakfast, chewing +well so as to get all the nourishment that I could. I climbed on a rock, +in the sun, like a ground-hog, to eat, and to look about at the same +time. And I saw smoke! + +The smoke was lifting above the timber away off, below. This was a fine +morning; a Sunday morning, peaceful and calm, and the smoke rose in a +little curl, as if it were from a camp or a chimney. I took that as a +good omen. Down I sprang, to my own fire; and heaped on damp stuff and +dirt, and using my coat made the private smoke signal of the Elk Patrol: +one puff, three puffs, and one puff. (Note 44.) But the other smoke +didn't answer. + +Then I thought of making the signal meaning "I am lost. Help"; but I +said to myself: "No, you don't. You're not calling for help, yet. You'd +be a weak kind of a Scout, to sit down and call for help. There's a sign +for you. Maybe that smoke is the beaver man. Sic him." And trampling out +my own fire, and stuffing the flags into my shirt and tying my jacket +around me, lining that other fire by a dead pine at the foot of the +hill, away I went. + +When I got to the dead pine I drew another bee-line ahead as far as I +could see, with a stump as the end, and followed that. But this was an +awful rough, thick country. First I got into a mess of fallen timber, +where the dead trunks were criss-crossed like jackstraws; and they were +smooth and hard and slippery, and I had to climb over and crawl under +and straddle and slide, and turn back several times, and I lost my +bee-line. But I set my direction again by the sun on my face. Next I ran +into a stretch of those small black-jacks, so thick I could scarcely +squeeze between. And when I came out I was hot and tired, I tell you! + +Now I was hungry, too, and thirsty; and I found that fire meant a whole +lot to me. If it didn't mean the man with the message, it meant food and +somebody to talk to, perhaps. The fallen timber and the black-jack +thicket had interfered with me so that I wasn't sure, any more, that I +was heading straight for the fire. Down into a deep gulch I must plunge, +and up I toiled, on the other side. It was about time that I climbed a +tree, or did something else, to locate that fire. When next I reached a +ridgy spot I chose a good pine and shinned it. From the top nothing was +visible except the same old sea of timber with island rocks spotting it +here and there, and with Pilot Peak and the snowy range in the wrong +quarter again. + +Of course, by this time the breakfast smoke would have quit. That made +me desperate. I shinned down so fast that a branch broke and I partly +fell the rest of the way along the trunk, and tore my shirt and scraped +a big patch of skin from my chest. This hurt. When I landed in a heap I +wanted to bawl. But instead, I struck off along the ridge, keeping high +so that if there was smoke I would see it, yet. + +The ridge ended in another gulch. I had begun to hate gulches. A +fellow's legs grow numb when he hasn't had much to eat. But into the +gulch I must go, and so down I plunged again. And when almost at the +bottom I _smelled_ smoke! I stopped short, and sniffed. It was wood +smoke--camp smoke. I must be near that camp-fire. And away off I could +hear water running. That was toward my left, so probably the smoke was +on my left, for a camp would be near water. It is hard to get direction +just by smell, but I turned and scouted along the side of the gulch, +halfway up, sniffing and looking. + +The brush was bad. It was as thick as hay and full of stickers, but I +worked my way through. If the camp was the camp of the beaver man with +the message, I must reconnoiter and scheme; if it was the camp of +somebody else, I would go down; and if I didn't know whose camp it was, +I must wait and find out. + +The brush held me and tripped me and tore my trousers and shirt, and was +wet and hot at the same time. Keeping high, I worked along listening and +sniffing and spying--_feeling_ for that camp, if it was a camp. Pretty +soon I heard voices. That was encouraging--unless the beaver man had +company. The brush thinned, and the gulch opened, and I was at the mouth +of it, with the water sounding louder. On my stomach I looked out and +down--and there was the place of the camp, at the mouth of the gulch, +where the pines and spruces met a creek, and two boys were just leaving +it. They had packs on their backs, and they were dressed in khaki and +were neat and trim. + +Down I went, sliding and leaping, head first or feet first, I didn't +care which, as long as I got there in time. The boys heard and turned +and stared, wondering. With my hands and face scratched, and my chest +skinned and my shirt and trousers torn, bearing my bow and my broken +arrow, like a wild boy I burst out upon them. Then suddenly I saw on the +sleeves of their khaki shirts the Scout badge. My throat was too dry and +my breath was too short for me to say a word, but I stopped and made the +Scout sign. They answered it; and they must have thought that I was +worse than I really was, because they came running. + +"The Elk Patrol, Colorado," I wheezed. + +"The Red Fox Patrol, New Jersey," they replied. "What's the matter?" + +"I'm glad to meet you," I said, silly after the run I had made on an +empty stomach; and we laughed and shook hands hard. + +They were bound to hold me up or examine me for wounds or help me in +some way, but I sat down of my own accord, to get my breath. + +They were First-class Scouts of the Red Fox Patrol of New Jersey, and +were traveling through this way on foot, from Denver, to meet the rest +of their party further on at the railroad, to do Salt Lake and then the +Yellowstone. They had had a late breakfast and a good clean-up, because +this was Sunday; and now they were starting on, for a walk while it was +cool, before they lay by again and waited till Monday morning. I had +reached them just in time; I think I'd have had tough work trailing +them. They looked as if they could travel some. + +Their clothes were the regulation Scouts uniform. One of them had a +splendid little twenty-two rifle, and the other had a camera. The name +of the boy with the rifle was Edward Van Sant; the name of the Scout +with the camera was Horace Ward. They seemed fine fellows--as Scouts +usually are. + +I don't know how they knew that I was hungry or faint, for I didn't say +that I was. But the first thing I did know Van Sant had unstrapped his +pack, and Ward had taken a little pan and had brought water from the +creek. Then a little alcohol stove appeared, and while we talked the +water was boiling, in a jiffy. Ward dropped into the water a cube, and +stirred--and there was a mess of soup, all ready! + +They made me drink it, although I kept telling them I was all right. It +tasted mighty good. They got out some first-aid dope, and washed my +skinned chest with a carbolic smelling wash and shook some surgical +powder over it, and put a bandage around, in great shape. Then they +washed my scratches and even sewed the worst of the tears in my clothes. +(Note 45.) + +By this time they knew my story. + +"Was he a dark-complexioned man, with a small face and no whiskers or +mustache?" + +"He was dark, but he had a mustache and fresh whiskers," I answered. + +"On a bay horse?" + +"On a bay, with a blazed forehead. Why?" + +"A man rode by here, last evening, along the trail across the creek. He +was dark-complexioned, he wore a black hat, and he rode a bay with a +mark on its shoulders like this--" and Ward drew in the dirt a K+. + +"That's a K Cross," I exclaimed. And I thought it was right smart of +them to notice even the brand. "He's the man, sure. He's shaved off his +mustache and whiskers, but he's riding the same horse." And I jumped up. +I felt strong and ready again. "Which way did he go?" + +Scout Van Sant pointed up the creek. "There's a trail on the other +side," he said. "You'll find fresh hoof marks in it." + +"Bueno," I said; and I extended my hand to shake with them, for I must +light right out. "I'm much obliged for everything, but I've got to catch +him. If you meet any of my crowd please tell 'em you saw me and I'm +O. K.; and if you're ever in Elk country don't fail to look us up. The +lodge door is always open." + +"Hold on," laughed Scout Ward. "You can't shoo us this way, unless +you'd rather travel alone. What's the matter with our going, too?" + +"Sure," said Scout Van Sant. + +"But your trail lies down creek, you said." + +"Not now. As long as you're in trouble your trail is our trail." + +Wasn't that fine! But-- + +"You'll miss your connections with the rest of your party," I objected. + +"What if we do? We're on the Scout trail, now, for business,--and +pleasure can wait. You couldn't handle that man alone--could you?" + +Well, I was going to try. But they wouldn't listen. And they wouldn't +let me carry anything. They slung their packs on their backs, we crossed +the creek on some stones, and taking the trail on the other side we +followed fast and steady, the horse's hoof-prints pointing up the creek. +One shoe had a bent nail-head. + +The Red Fox Scouts stepped along without asking any odds, although I was +traveling light. They walked like Indians. Scout Van Sant took the lead, +Scout Ward came next, and I closed the rear. Pretty soon Scout Van Sant +dropped back, behind me, and let Ward have the lead. I surmised he did +this to watch how I was getting on; but I had that soup in me, and my +second wind, and I didn't ask any odds, either. + +The hoof-prints were plain, and the trail was first rate; sometimes in +the timber and sometimes in little open patches, but always close to the +foaming creek. + +After we had traveled for about two hours, or had gone seven miles, we +stopped and rested fifteen minutes and had a dish of soup. The creek +branched, and one part entered a narrow, high valley, lined with much +timber. The other part, which was the main part, continued more in the +open. + +The hoofs with the bent nail-head quit, here; and as they didn't turn +off to the left, into the open country, they must have crossed to take +the gulch branch. An old bridge had been washed out, but the water was +shallow, and Scout Van Sant was over in about three jumps. After a +minute of searching he beckoned, and we skipped over, too. A small trail +followed the branch up the gulch, and the hoof-prints showed in it. + +Now we all smelled smoke again. It seemed to me that I had been smelling +it ever since that first time, but you know how a smell sometimes sticks +in the nose. Still, we all were smelling it, now, and we kept our eyes +and ears open for other sign of a camp. + +The water made a big noise as it dashed down; the gulch turned and +twisted, and was timbered and rocky; it grew narrower; and as we +advanced with Scout caution, looking ahead each time as far as we could, +on rounding an angle suddenly we came out into a sunny little park, +with flowers and grass and aspens and bowlders, the stream dancing +through at one edge, and an old dug-out beside the stream. + +It was an abandoned prospect claim, because on the hill-slope were some +old prospect holes and a dump. By the looks, nobody had been working +these holes for a year or two; but from the chimney of the dug-out a +thin smoke was floating. We instantly sat down, motionless, to +reconnoiter. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE MAN AT THE DUG-OUT + + +We couldn't see any sign, except those hoof-marks, and that fire. Nobody +was stirring, the sun shone and the chipmunks scampered and the aspens +quivered and the stream tinkled, and the place seemed all uninhabited by +anything except nature. We grew tired of waiting. + +"I'll go on to that dug-out," whispered Scout Ward. "If the man sees me +he won't know me, especially. I can find out if he's there, or who is +there." + +That sounded good; so he dumped his pack and while Scout Van Sant and I +stayed back he walked out, up the trail. We saw him turn in at the +dug-out and rap on the door. Nobody came. He hung about and eyed the +trail and the ground, and rapped again. + +"There's plenty of sign," he called to us; "and there's a loose horse +over across the creek." + +"Well, what of it?" growled a voice; and he looked, and we looked, and +we saw a man sitting beside a bowlder on the little slope behind the +dug-out. + +The man must have been watching, half hid, without moving. It was the +beaver man. He had an automatic pistol in his hand. This was my +business, now. So, just saying, "There he is!" I stood up and went right +forward. But Scout Van Sant followed. + +"I want that message," I said, as soon as I could. + +"What message?" he growled back, from over his gun. + +"That Scouts' message you took from the fellow who took it from us." + +"Oh, hello!" he grinned. "Were you there? They let you go, did they?" + +"No; I got away to follow you. I want that message." + +"Why, sure," he said. "If that's all you want." And he seemed relieved. +"Come and get it." He stuck his free hand behind him and fumbled, and +then he held up the package. + +I started right up, but Scout Ward sprang ahead of me. "I'll get it. You +and Van stay behind," he bade. + +He didn't wait for us to say yes, but walked for the rock; and just as +he reached it, and was stretching to take the package, the man, with a +big oath, jumped for him. + +Jumped for him, and grabbed for him, sprawling out like a black cougar. +Van Sant and I yelled, sharp; Ward dodged and tripped and went rolling; +and as the man jumped for him again I shot my arrow at him. I couldn't +help it, I was so mad. The arrow was crooked, where it had been mended +(I really didn't try to hurt him), and maybe it _went_ crooked; but +anyway it hit him in the calf of the leg and stayed there. I didn't +think I had shot so hard. + +The man uttered a quick word, and sat down. His face was screwed and he +glared about at us, with his pistol muzzle wavering and sweeping like a +snake's tongue. That arrow probably hurt. It hadn't gone in very far, +but it was stuck. + +"I'll kill one of you for that," he snarled. + +"No, you won't," answered Scout Ward, scrambling up and facing him. "If +you killed one you'd have to kill all three, and then you'd be hanged +anyway." + +"You got just what was coming to you for acting so mean," added Scout +Van Sant. "You grabbed for Ward and we had to protect him." + +They weren't afraid, a particle, either of them; but I was the one who +had shot the arrow, and all I could say was: "It isn't barbed. You can +pull it out." + +"Yes, and I'll get blood poisonin', mebbe," snarled the man. He kept us +covered with his revolver muzzle. "You git!" he ordered. + +With his other hand he worked at the arrow and pulled it out easily. +The point was red, but not very far up. + +"You'd better cut your trousers open, over that wound," called Scout Van +Sant. "Did you have on colored underdrawers?" + +"None o' your business," snarled the man. "You git, all of you." + +"Wait a minute. Don't use that old handkerchief," spoke Scout Ward. And +away he ran for the packs. They were very busy Scouts, those two, and +right up to snuff. The arrow wound seemed to interest them. He came +back, and I saw what he had. "Here," he called; "if you'll promise not +to grab me I'll come and dress that in first-class shape. You're liable +to have an infection, from dirt." + +"I'll infect _you_, if I ketch you," snarled the man, fingering his +wounded leg and dividing his glances between it and us. + +"Well, if you won't promise, I'll lay this on this rock," continued +Scout Ward, as cool as you please. "You ought to cut the cloth away from +that wound; then you dissolve this bichloride of mercury tablet in a +quart of water, and flush that hole out thoroughly; then you moisten a +pad of this cloth in the water and bind it on the hole with this +surgical bandage. See?" (Note 46.) + +"I'll bind you on a hole, if I ketch you," snarled the man. That hole +ached, I reckon. + +But Scout Ward advanced and laid the first-aid stuff on a stone about +ten feet from the man, so that he could crawl and get it. + +"Now hadn't you better give us that message? It's no good to you, and +it's done you harm enough," said Scout Van Sant. + +"Give you nothin', except a dose of lead, if you don't git out pronto," +snarled the man. "You git! Hear me? GIT! If you weren't kids, you'd git +something else beside jes' git. But I'm not goin' to tell you many more +times. GIT!" + +The Red Fox Patrol Scouts looked at me and I looked at them, and we +agreed--for the man was growing angrier and angrier. There was no sense +in badgering him. A fellow must use discretion, you know. + +"All right; we'll 'git,'" answered Scout Ward. "But we'll keep on your +trail till you turn over that message. You've no business with it." + +The man just growled, and as we turned away he began to pull his +trouser-leg up further and to fuss with his dirty sock and his pink +underdrawers there. Those were no things to have about an open wound. + +"You'd better use that first-aid wash and bandage," called back Scout +Ward. + +We went to the packs and the Red Fox Patrol Scouts slung them on. They +wouldn't let me carry one. We didn't know exactly what to do, now: +whether to go on and wait, or wait here, while we watched. Only-- + +"You Scouts take the trail for your rendezvous," I said. Rendezvous, you +know, is the place where Scouts come together; and these two boys were +on their way to meet the rest of their party, for Salt Lake and the +Yellowstone, when I had come in on them. + +"No," they said; "your trail is our trail. Scouts help each other. We +can meet our party somewhere later, and still be in time." + +Scouts mean what they say, so I didn't argue, and I was mighty glad to +have them along. We decided to follow the trail we were on for a little +way, and then to climb the side of the gulch and make Sunday camp where +we could watch the man's movements. + +We passed the dug-out; up back of it the beaver man was tying his +bandanna handkerchief around his leg! He didn't look at us, and he +hadn't touched the first-aid stuff on the rock. + +As we hiked on, I kept noticing that smell of smoke--a piny smoke; and +it did not come from the dug-out, surely. Now I remembered that I had +been smelling that piny smoke all day, and I laid it to the two +camp-fires, but I must have been mistaken. Or else there was another +fire, still--or I had the smell in my nose and couldn't get it out. When +you are in the habit of smelling for something, you keep thinking that +it is there, all the time. A Scout must watch his imagination, and not +be fooled by it. + +We climbed the side of the gulch, through the trees; the Red Fox boys +carried their packs right along, without resting any more than I did. +They were toughened to the long trail. The sun began to be clouded and +hazy. When we halted halfway up, and looked back and down, at the +dug-out, the man had hobbled across from the dug-out and was leading +back his horse. + +Just then Scout Ward spoke up. "It is smoke!" he exclaimed, puffing and +sniffing. "Boys, it's a forest fire somewhere." + +So they had been smelling it, too. + +I looked at the sun. The haze clouding it was the smoke! + +"Climb on top, so we can see," I said; and away we went. + +The timber was thick with spruces and pines. Up we went, among them, for +the top of the ridge. We came out into an open space; beyond, the ridge +fell away in a long slope of the timber, for the snowy range; and old +Pilot Peak was right before us, to the west. The sun was getting low, +and was veiled by smoke drifting across it. And on the right, distant a +couple of miles, up welled a great brownish-black mass from the fire +itself. + +A forest fire, and a big one! The smell was very strong. + +The Red Fox Scouts looked at me. "What ought we to do?" asked Scout Van +Sant. "Maybe you know more about these forest fires than we do." + +Maybe I did. The Rockies are places for big forest fires, all right, and +I'd heard the Guards and Rangers talk, in our town. The timber was dry +as a bone, at this time of year. The smoke certainly was drifting our +way. And fire travels up-hill faster than it travels down-hill. So this +ridge, surrounded by the timber, was a bad spot to be caught in, +especially if that fire should split and come along both sides. No +timber ridge for us! + +"Turn back and make for the creek; shall we?" proposed Scout Ward. + +That didn't sound good to me, somehow. The creek was beginning to pinch +out, this high up the gulch, and a fire would jump it in a twinkling. +And if anything should happen to us, down there,--one of us hurt +himself, you know, in hurrying,--we should be in a trap as the fire +swept across. Out of the timber was the place for us. + +But away across, an opposite slope rose to bareness, where were just +grass and rocks; and between was a long patch of aspens or willows, down +in the hollow. If we couldn't make the bareness, those aspens or willows +would be better than the pines and evergreens. They wouldn't burn so; +and if they were willows, they might be growing in a bog. + +"No," I said. "Let's strike across," and I explained. + +"But the man. Wait a minute. Maybe he doesn't know," said Scout Van +Sant; and away he raced, down and back for the dug-out. + +We followed, for of course we wouldn't let him go alone. As we ran we +all shouted, and at the dug-out we shouted, looking; but all that we saw +was the beaver man far off across the creek, riding through the timber. +He did not glance back; he kept on, riding slowly, headed for the fire. +That seemed bad. He was so angry that perhaps his judgment wasn't +working right, and he didn't pay much attention to the smell of smoke. +So all we could do was to race up the ridge again, get the packs, and +plunge down over for sanctuary. + +The wind was blowing toward the fire, as if sucked in. But I knew that +this would not hold the fire, because there would be another breeze, +low, carrying it along. With a big fire there always is a wind, sucked +in from all sides, as the hot air rises. + +Those Red Fox Scouts hiked well, loaded with their packs. I set the +pace, in a bee-line for the willows and aspens, and I was traveling +light, but they hung close behind. The altitude made them puff; they +fairly wheezed as we zigzagged down, among the trees; but we must get +out of this brush into the open. + +"Will we make it?" puffed Ward. + +"Sure," I said. But I was mighty anxious. It seemed to me that the +distance lengthened and lengthened and that I could feel the air getting +warm in puffs. This was imagination. + +"Look!" cried Van Sant. "What's that?" He stopped and panted and +pointed. + +"Bunch of deer!" cried Ward. + +It was. Not a bunch, exactly, but two does and three fawns, scampering +through the timber below, fleeing from the fire. They were bounding over +brush and over logs, their tails lifted showing the white--and next they +were out of sight in a hollow. They made a pretty sight, but-- + +"Frightened by the fire, aren't they?" asked Scout Van Sant, quietly, as +we jogged on. + +"Yes," I had to say. + +This looked serious. The fire might not be coming, and again it might. +Animals are wise. + +The smoke certainly was worse. The air certainly was warmer. The breeze +was changing, or else we were down into another breeze. Next I saw a +black, shaggy creature lumbering past, before, and I pointed without +stopping. They nodded. + +"Bear?" panted Ward. + +I nodded. The bear was getting out of the way, too. + +"Will we make it?" again asked Ward. + +"Sure," I answered. We _had_ to. + +On we plowed. We were almost at the bottom of the slope and we ought to +be reaching those willows and aspens. The brush was not so bad, now; but +the brush does not figure much in a forest fire when the flames leap +from tree-top to tree-top and make a crown fire. That is the worst of +all. This was hot enough to be a crown fire, if a breeze helped it. + +We saw lots of animals--rabbits and squirrels and porcupines and more +deer, and the birds were calling and fluttering. The smoke rasped our +throats; the air was thick with it and with the smell of burning pine. +And how we sweat. + +Then, hurrah! We were into the aspens. I tell you, their white trunks +and their green leaves looked good to me; but ahead of us was that other +slope to climb, before we were into the bareness. + +"Shall we go on?" asked Scout Van Sant. + +He coughed; we all coughed, as we wheezed. That had been a hard hike. +The air was hot, we could _feel_ the fire as the wind came in strong +puffs; everywhere animals were running and flying, and the aspens were +full of wild things, panicky. We had to decide quickly, for the fire was +much closer. + +"Are you good for another pull?" I asked. + +They grinned, out of streaming faces and white lips. + +"We'll make it if you can." + +But I didn't believe that we could. Up I went into an aspen, to +reconnoiter. + +"Be looking for wetness, or willows," I called down. They dropped their +packs and scurried. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FOILING THE FIRE + + +I don't know what a record I made in climbing that tree--an aspen's bark +is slick--but in a jiffy I was at the top and could peer out. (Note +47.) All the sky was smoke, veiling the upper end of the valley and of +the ridge. The ridge must be afire; the fire was spreading along our +side; and if we tried for the opposite slope and the bare spot we might +be caught halfway! Something whisked through the trees under me. It was +a coyote. And as I slid down like lightning, thinking hard as to what we +must do and do at once, I heard a calling and Van Sant and Ward came +rushing back. + +"We've found a place!" they cried huskily. "A boggy place, with willows. +Let's get in it." + +We grabbed the packs. I carried one, at last. Scout Ward led straight +for the place. Willows began to appear, clustering thick. That was a +good sign. The ground grew wet and soft, and slushed about our feet. I +tell you, it felt fine! + +"Will it do?" gasped Scout Ward, back. + +"Great!" I said. + +"It's occupied, but I guess we can squeeze in," added Van Sant. + +And sure enough. Animals had got here first; all kinds--coyotes, +rabbits, squirrels, skunks, porcupines, a big gray wolf, and a brown +bear, and one or two things whose names I didn't know. But we didn't +care. We forced right in, to the very middle; nothing paid much +attention to us, except to step aside and give us room. Of course the +coyotes snarled and so did the wolf; but the bear simply lay panting, he +was so fat. And we lay panting, too. + +We weren't any too soon. The air was gusty hot and gusty coolish, and +the smoke came driving down. We dug holes, so that the water would +collect, and so that we could dash it over each other if necessary. I +could reach with my hand and pet a rabbit, but I didn't. Nothing +bothered anything else. Even the coyotes and the wolf let the rabbits +alone. This was a sanctuary. There was a tremendous crashing, and a big +doe elk bolted into the midst of us. She was thin and quivery, and her +tongue was hanging out and her eyes staring. But she didn't stay; with +another great bound she was off, outrunning the fire. She probably knew +where she was going. + +We others lay around, flat, waiting. + +"Wish we were on her back," gasped Van Sant. + +"We're all right," I said. + +"Think so?" + +"Sure," I answered. + +They were game, those Red Fox Scouts. They never whimpered. We had done +the best we could, and after you've done the best you can there is +nothing left except to take what comes. And take it without kicking. As +for me, I was full of thought. I never had been in a forest fire, +before, but it seemed to me our chances were good. Only, I wondered +about General Ashley and Fitzpatrick, in the hands of that careless +gang; and about Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson, and about the +beaver man with the wounded leg. He'd have the hardest time of all. + +Now the smoke was so heavy and sharp that we coughed and choked. The air +was scorching. We could hear a great crackling and snapping and the +breeze withered the leaves about us. We burrowed. The animals around us +cringed and burrowed. The fire was upon us--and a forest fire in the +evergreen country is terrible. + +There was a constant dull roar; our willows swayed and writhed; the +rabbit crept right against me and lay shivering, and the coyotes +whimpered. I flattened myself, and so did the Red Fox Scouts; and with +my face in the ooze I tried to find cool air. + +The roaring was steady; and the crackling and snapping was worse than +any Fourth of July. Sparks came whisking down through the willows and +sizzled in the wetness. One lit on a coyote and I smelled burning hair; +and then one lit on me and I had to turn over and wallow on my back to +put it out. "Ouch!" exclaimed Van Sant; and one must have lit on him, +too. + +But that was not bad. If we could stand the heat, and not swallow it and +burn our lungs, we needn't mind the sparks; and maybe in ten or fifteen +minutes the worst would be over, when the branches and the brush had +burned. + +Of course the first few moments were the ticklish ones. We didn't know +what might happen. But we never said a word. Like the animals we just +waited, and hoped for the best. When I found that we weren't being +burned, and that the roaring and the crackling weren't harming us, I +lifted my head. I sat up; and the Red Fox Scouts sat up, cautiously. We +were still all right. The air was smoky, but the _fire_ hadn't got at +us--and now it probably wouldn't. But this was not at all like Sunday! + +The Red Fox Scouts were pale, under their mud; and so was I, I suppose. +I felt pale, and I felt weak and shaky--and I felt thankful. That had +been a mighty narrow escape for us. If we had not found the willows and +the wet, we would have died, it seemed to me. + +"How about it?" asked Scout Ward, huskily, and his voice trembled, but +I didn't blame him for that. "It's gone past, hasn't it?" + +"Yes," said I. And-- + +"We're still here," said Scout Van Sant. + +"Well," said Ward, soberly--and smiling, too, with cracked lips, "I know +how I feel, and I guess you fellows feel the same way. God was good to +us, and I want to thank Him." + +And we kept silent a moment, and did. + +The roaring had about quit and the crackling was not nearly so bad. The +air was not fiery hot, any more; it was merely warm. The attack had +passed, and we were safe. The rabbit beside me hopped a few feet and +squatted again, and the fat bear sat up and blinked about him with his +piggish eyes. It seemed to me that the animals were growing uneasy and +that perhaps the truce was over with. In that case, unpleasant things +were likely to happen, so we had better move out. + +"Shall we try it?" asked Van Sant. + +We picked up the packs and sticking close together moved on--dodging +another gray wolf and a coyote, and an animal that looked like a +carcajou or wolverine, which snarled at us and wouldn't budge. + +Of course, it was a little doubtful whether we could travel through +burned timber so soon after the fire had swept it. The ground would be +thick with coals and hot ashes, and trees would still be blazing. But +when we came out at the opposite edge of the willows and could see +through the aspens, the timber beyond did not look bad, after all. There +were a few burned places, but the fire had skirted the aspens on this +side only in spots, where cinders had lodged. + +So if we had kept going instead of having stopped in the willows we +might have reached the place beyond all right; but it would have been +taking an awful risk, and we decided that we had done the correct thing. + +Smoke still hung heavy and the smell of burning pine was strong, as we +threaded our way among the hot spots, making for the ridge beyond. That +bare place would be a good lookout, and we rather hankered for it, +anyway. We had crossed the valley, and as we climbed the slope we could +look back. The fire had covered both sides of the first ridge, and the +top, and if we had stayed there we would have been goners, sure, the way +matters turned out. It was a dismal sight, and ought to make anybody +feel sorry. Thousands of acres of fine timber had been killed--just +wasted. + +"What do you suppose started it?" asked Scout Ward. + +A camp-fire, probably. Lots of people, camping in the timber, either +don't know anything or else are out-and-out careless, like that gang +from town, or those two recruits who had not made good. And I more than +half believed that the fire might have started from their camps. + +All of a sudden we found that we were hungry. I had been hungry before +the fire, because I hadn't had much to eat for twenty-four hours; but +during the fire I had forgotten about it; and now we all were hungry. +However, after that fire we were nervous, in the timber, and we knew +that if we camped there we wouldn't sleep. So we pushed on through, to +camp on top, in the bare region, where we would be out of danger and +could see around. The Red Fox canteens would give us water enough. + +We came out on the bare spot. Away off to the right, along the side of +the ridge, figures were moving. They were human figures, not more wild +animals: two men and a pack burro. They were moving toward us, so we +obliqued toward them, with our shadows cast long by the low sun. The +grass was short and the footing was hard gravel, so that we could hurry; +and soon I was certain that I knew who those three figures were. One was +riding. + +The side of the ridge was cut by a deep gulch, like a canyon, with rocky +walls and stream rolling through along the bottom. We halted on our +edge, and the three figures came on and halted on their edge. They were +General Ashley and Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and Apache the black burro. +The general was riding Apache. I was glad to see them. + +"They're the two Elk Scouts who were captured," I said, to the Red Fox +Scouts; and I waved and grinned, and they waved back, and we all +exchanged the Scout sign. + +But that gorge lay between, and the water made such a noise that we +couldn't exchange a word. + +"Can they read Army and Navy wigwags?" asked Scout Ward. + +"Sure," I said. "Can you?" + +"Pretty good," he answered. "Shall I make a talk, or will you?" + +But I wasn't very well practiced in wigwags, yet; I was only a +Second-class Scout. + +"You," I said. "Do you want a flag?" + +But he said he'd use his hat. (Note 48.) + +He made the "attention" signal; and Fitzpatrick answered. Then he went +ahead, while Scout Van Sant spelled it out for me: + +"R--e--d F--o--x." + +And Fitz answered, like lightning: + +"E--l--k." + +"What shall I say?" asked Scout Ward of me, over his shoulder. + +"Say we're all right, and ask them how they are." + +He did. Scout Van Sant spelled the answer: + +"O. K. B--u--t c--a--n--t c--r--o--s--s. C--a--m--p t--i--l--l +m--o--r--n--i--n--g. A--s--h h--u--r--t." + +When we learned that General Ashley was hurt, and knew that he and +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand were going to camp on the other side for the +night, the two Red Fox Scouts, packs and all, and I got through that +gulch somehow and up and out, where they were. It would have been a +shame to let a one-armed boy tend to the camp and to a wounded +companion, and do everything, if we could possibly help. Of course, Fitz +would have managed. He was that kind. He didn't ask for help. + +They were waiting; Fitz had unpacked the burro and was making camp. +General Ashley was sitting with his back against a rock. He looked pale +and worn. He had sprained his ankle, back there when we had all tried to +escape, yesterday, and it was swollen horribly because he had had to +step on it some and hadn't been able to give it the proper treatment. +(Note 49.) Fitz looked worn, too, and of course we three others +(especially I) showed travel, ourselves. + +After I had introduced the Red Fox Scouts to him and Fitz, then before +anything else was told I must report. So I did. But I hated to say it. I +saluted, and blurted it out: + +"I followed the beaver man and sighted him, sir, but he got away again, +with the message." + +The general did not frown, or show that he was disappointed or vexed. He +tried to smile, and he said: "Did he? That surely was hard luck then, +Jim. Where did he go?" + +"We were with Bridger, and it seems to us that he did the best he could. +The fire interrupted," put in Red Fox Scout Van Sant, hesitatingly. + +He spoke as if he knew that he had not been asked for an opinion, but as +a friend and as a First-class Scout he felt as though he ought to say +something. + +"The best is all that any Scout can do," agreed the general. "Go ahead, +Jim, and tell what happened." + +So I did. The general nodded. I hadn't made any excuses; I tried to tell +just the plain facts, and ended with our escape in the willows, from +that fire. + +"The report is approved," he said. "We'll get that beaver man yet. We +must have that message. Now Fitz can tell what happened to us. But we'd +better be sending up smoke signals to call in the other squad, in case +they're where they can see. Make the council signal, Bridger." + +Fitz had a fire almost ready; the Red Fox Scouts helped me, and gathered +smudge stuff while I proceeded to send up the council signal in the Elks +code. Fitz talked while he worked. The general looked on and winced as +his ankle throbbed. But he was busy, too, fighting pain. + +Fitz told what had happened to them, after I had escaped. He and the +general had been taken back by the gang, and tied again, and camp was +broken in a hurry because the gang feared that now I would lead a +rescue. They were mean enough to make the general limp along, without +bandaging his foot, until he was so lame that he must be put on a horse. +The camp-fire was left burning and the bacon was forgotten. They climbed +a plateau and dropped into a flat, and following up very fast had curved +into the timber to cross another ridge into Lost Park and on for the +Divide by way of Glacier Lake. That is what the general and Fitz +guessed. That night they all camped on the other side of the timber +ridge, at the edge of Lost Park. They were in a hurry, still, and they +made their fire in the midst of trees where they had no business to make +it. They slept late, as they always did, and not having policed the camp +or put out their fire, scarcely had they plunged into Lost Park, the +next morning, when one of them looking back saw the trees afire where +they had been. + +Lost Park is a mean place; the brush makes a regular jungle of it, and +fire would go through it as through a hayfield. That fact and their +guilty conscience made them panicky. It's a pretty serious thing, to +start a forest fire. So they didn't know what to do; some wanted to go +one way, and some another; the fire grew bigger and bigger, and the +cattle and game trails wound and twisted and divided so that the gang +were separated, in the brush, and it was every man for himself. The +general was riding Mike Delavan's horse, and Mike ordered him down and +climbed on himself and made off; and the first thing the general and +Fitz knew they were abandoned. That is what they would have maneuvered +for, from the beginning, and it would have been easy, as Scouts, to work +it, among those blind trails, but the general couldn't walk. Perhaps it +was by a mistake that they were abandoned; everybody may have thought +that somebody else was tending to them, and Mike didn't know what he was +doing, he was so excited. But there they were. + +The general tried to hobble, and Fitz was bound that he would carry +him--good old Fitz, with the one arm! The bushes were high, the smoke +where the fire was mounted more and more and spread as if the park was +doomed, and the crashing and shouting and swearing of the gang faded and +died away in the distance. Then the general and Fitz heard something +coming, and down the trail they were on trotted Apache the burro! He +must have turned back or have entered by a cross trail. Whew, but they +were glad to see Apache! Fitz grabbed him by the neck rope. He had a +flat pack tied on with our rope, did Apache, and Fitz hoisted the +general aboard, and away they hiked, with the general hanging on and his +foot dangling. + +Now that they could travel and head as they pleased, they worked right +back, out of the park, and by a big circuit so as not to run into the +gang they circled the fire and tried to strike the back trail somewhere +so as to meet Major Henry and Carson and Smith, who might be on it. But +they came out upon this plateau, and sighted us, and then we all met at +the edge of the gulch. + +That was the report of Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He and the general +certainly had been through a great deal. + +During the story the Red Fox Scouts and I had been making the smoke +signal over and over again. "Come to council," I sent up, while they +helped to keep the smudge thick. "Come to council," "Come to council," +for Major Henry and Kit and Jed, wherever they might be. But we were so +interested in Fitz's story, how he and the general got away from the +gang and from the fire, that sometimes we omitted to scan the horizon. +The general didn't, though. He is a fine Scout. + +"There's the answer!" he said suddenly. "They've seen! The fire didn't +get them. Hurrah!" + +And "Hurrah!" we cheered. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +ORDERS FROM THE PRESIDENT + +(THE ADVENTURES OF THE MAJOR HENRY PARTY) + + +I am Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry, second in command of the Elk +Patrol Scouts which set out to take that message over the range. So now +I will make a report upon what happened to our detail after General +Ashley and Fitzpatrick and Bridger left, upon the trail of the two boys +who had stolen our flags and burros. + +We waited as directed all day and all night, and as they did not come +back or make any signal, in the morning we prepared to follow them. +First we sent up another smoke for half an hour, and watched for an +answer; but nothing happened. Then we cached the camp stuff by rolling +in the bedding, with the tarpaulins on the outside, what we couldn't +carry, and stowing it under a red spruce. The branches came down clear +to the ground, in a circle around, and when we had crawled in and had +covered the bundle with other boughs and needles, it couldn't be seen +unless you looked mighty close. + +We erased our tracks to the tree, and made two blazes, on other trees, +so that our cache was in the middle of a line from blaze to blaze. Then +we took sights, and wrote them down on paper, so that none of us would +forget how to find the place. (Note 50.) + +We each had a blanket, rolled and slung in army style, with a string run +through and tied at the ends. I carried the twenty-two rifle, and we +stuffed away in our clothes what rations we could. In my blanket I +carried the other of our lariat ropes. We might need it. + +So the time was about ten o'clock before we started. The trail was more +than twenty-four hours old, but our Scouts had made it plain on purpose, +and we followed right along. Of course, I am sixteen and Kit Carson is +thirteen and little Jed Smith is only twelve, so I set my pace to +theirs. A blanket roll weighs heavy after you have carried it a few +miles. + +But we stopped only twice before we reached a sign marked in the ground: +"Look out!" The trail faltered, and an arrow showed which way to go, and +we came to the spot where the Scouts had peeped over into the draw and +had seen the enemy. Here another arrow pointed back, and we understood +exactly what had happened. + +We took the new direction. The three Scouts had left as plain a trail as +they could by breaking branches and disturbing pebbles, and treading in +single file. Jed Smith was awful tired, by this time, for the sun was +hot and we hadn't halted to eat. But picking the trail we made the +circuit around the upper end of the draw and climbed the opposite ridge. +The trail was harder to read, here, among the grass and rocks. + +By the sun it was the middle of the afternoon, now, and we must have +been on the trail five hours. We waited, and listened, and looked and +smelled, feeling for danger. We must not run into any ambuscade. A +little gulch, with timber, lay just ahead, and a haze of smoke floated +over it. + +This spelled danger. It was not Scouts' smoke, because Scouts would not +be having a fire, at this time of day, smoking so as to betray their +position. When we made a smoke, we made it for a purpose. The place must +be reconnoitered. + +We spread. I took the right, Kit Carson the left, and Jed Smith was put +in the middle because he was the littlest. It would have been good if we +could have left our blanket rolls, but we did not dare to. Of course, if +we were chased, we might have to drop them and let them be captured. + +We crossed a cow-path, leading into the gulch. It held burro tracks, +pointing down; and it seemed to me that if there was any ambuscade down +there it would be along this trail. Naturally, the enemy would expect us +to follow the trail. Maybe the other Scouts had followed it and had +been surrounded. So we crossed the trail, and I signed to Carson and to +Smith to move out across the gulch and around by the other side. + +We did. Cedars and spruces were scattered about, and gooseberry bushes +and other brush were screen enough; we swung down along the opposite +side, and the smoke grew stronger. But still we could not hear a sound. +We closed in, peering and listening--and then suddenly I wasn't afraid, +or at least, I didn't care. Through the stems of the trees was an open +park, at the foot of the gulch, and if there was a camp nobody was at +home, for the park was afire! + +"Come on!" I shouted. "Fire!" and down I rushed. So did Carson and Jed +Smith. + +We were just in time. The flames had spread from an old camp-fire and +had eaten along across the grass and pine needles and were among the +brush, getting a good start. Already a dry stump was blazing; and in +fifteen minutes more a tree somewhere would have caught. And then--whew! + +But we sailed into it, stamping and kicking and driving it back from the +brush. + +"Wet your blanket, Jed," I ordered, "while we fight." + +A creek was near, luckily; Jed wet his blanket, and we each in turn wet +our blankets; and swiping with the rolls we smashed the line of fire +right and left, and had it out in just a few minutes. + +Now a big blackened space was left, like a blot; and the burning and our +trampling about had destroyed most of the sign. But we must learn what +had happened. We got busy again. + +We picked up the cow-path, back in the gulch, and found that the burros +had followed it this far. We found where the burros had been grazing and +standing, in the brush, near the burned area, and we found where horses +had been standing, too! We found fish-bones, and coffee-grounds dumped +from the little bag they had been boiled in, and a path had been worn to +the creek. We found in the timber and brush near by other sign, but we +missed the second warning sign. However, where the fire had not reached, +on the edge of the park, we found several pieces of rope, cut, lying +together, and in a soft spot of the turf here we found the hob-nail +prints of the Elk Patrol! By ashes we found where the main camp-fire had +been, and we found where a second smaller camp-fire had been, at the +edge of the park, and prints of shoes worn through in the left sole--the +shoes of the beaver man! We found a tin plate and fork, by the big +camp-fire, and wrapped in a piece of canvas in a spruce was a hunk of +bacon. By circling we found an out-going trail of horses and burros. We +found the out-going trail of the beaver man--or of a single horse, +anyway, but no shoe prints with it. But looking hard we found Scout +sole prints in the horse and burro trail. + +By this time it was growing dusk, and Jed Smith was sick because he had +drunk too much water out of the creek, when he was tired and hot and +hungry. So we decided to stay here for the night. From the signs we +figured out what might have happened: + +According to the tracks, the burro thieves had joined with this camp. +Our fellows had sighted the burro thieves, back where the "Look out" +sign had been made, and had circuited the draw so as to keep out of +sight themselves, and had taken the trail again on the ridge. They had +followed along that cow-path, and had been ambushed. The cut ropes +showed that they had been tied. This camp had been here for two or three +days, because of the path worn to the creek and because of the coffee +grounds and the fish bones and the other sign. It was a dirty camp, too, +and with its unsanitary arrangements and cigarette butts and tobacco +juice was such a camp as would be made by that town gang. The sign of +the cut ropes looked like the town gang, too. The camp must have broken +up in a hurry, and moved out quick, by the things that were forgotten. +Campers don't forget bacon, very often. The cut ropes would show haste, +and we might have thought that the Scout prisoners had escaped, if we +hadn't found their sole prints with the out-going trail. These prints +had been stepped on by burros, showing that the burros followed behind. +What the beaver man was doing here we could not tell. + +So we guessed pretty near, I think. + +Little Jed Smith had a splitting headache, from heat and work and +water-drinking. His tongue looked all right, so I decided it was just +tiredness and stomach. One of the blankets was dry; we wrapped him up +and let him lie quiet, with a wet handkerchief on his eyes, and I gave +him a dose of aconite, for fever. (Note 51.) + +At this time, we know now, General Ashley and Thomas Fitzpatrick were +being hustled along one trail, captives to the gang; the beaver man was +on a second trail, with our message; and Jim Bridger was on his lone +scout in another direction, and just about to make a camp-fire with his +hob-nails and a flint. + +The dusk was deepening, and Kit Carson and I went ahead settling camp +for the night. We built a fire, and spread the blankets, and were making +tea in a tin can when we heard hoof thuds on the cow-path. A man rode in +on us. He was a young man, with a short red mustache and a peaked hat, +and a greenish-shade Norfolk jacket with a badge on the left breast. A +Forest Ranger! Under his leg was a rifle in scabbard. + +"Howdy?" he said, stopping and eying us. + +Kit Carson and I saluted him, military way, because he represented the +Government, and answered: "Howdy, sir?" + +He was cross, as he gazed about. + +"What are you lads trying to do? Set the timber afire?" he scolded. He +saw the burned place, you know. + +"We didn't do that," I answered. "It was afire when we came in and we +put it out." + +He grunted. + +"How did it start?" + +"A camp-fire, we think." + +He fairly snorted. He was pretty well disgusted and angered, we could +see. + +"Of course. There are more blamed fools and down-right criminals loose +in these hills this summer than ever before. I've done nothing except +chase fires for a month, now. Who are you fellows?" + +"We're a detail of the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of +America." + +"Well, I suppose you've been taught about the danger from camp-fires, +then?" + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"Bueno," he grunted. "Wish there were plenty more like you. Every person +who leaves a live camp-fire behind him, anywhere, ought to be made to +stay in a city all the rest of his life." (Note 52.) + +He straightened in his saddle and lifted the lines to ride on. But his +horse looked mighty tired and so did he; and as a Scout it was up to me +to say: "Stop off and have supper. We're traveling light, but we can set +out bread and tea." + +"Sure," added Kit Carson and Jed Smith. + +"No, thanks," he replied. "I've got a few miles yet to ride, before I +quit. And to-morrow's Sunday, when I don't ride much if I can help it. +So long." + +"So long," we called; and he passed on at a trot. + +We had supper of bread and bacon and tea. The bread sopped in bacon +grease was fine. Jed felt better and drank some tea, himself, and ate a +little. It was partly a hunger headache. We pulled dead grass and cut +off spruce and pine tips, and spread a blanket on it all. The two other +blankets we used for covering. Our coats rolled up were pillows. We +didn't undress, except to take off our shoes. Then stretched out +together, on the one-blanket bed and under the two blankets, we slept +first-rate. Jed had the warm middle place, because he was the littlest. + +As I was commander of the detail I woke up first in the morning, and +turned out. After a rub-off at the creek I took the twenty-two and went +hunting for breakfast. I saw a rabbit; but just as I drew a bead on him +I suddenly remembered that this was _Sunday morning_--and I quit. +Sunday ought to be different from other days. So I left him hopping and +happy, and I went back to camp. Jed and Kit had the fire going and the +water boiling; and we breakfasted on tea and bread and bacon. + +Then we policed the camp, put out the fire, every spark, and took the +burro and horse trail, to the rescue again. We must pretend that this +was only a little Sunday walk, for exercise. + +After a while the trail crossed the creek at a shallow place, and by a +cow-path climbed the side of a hill. Before exposing ourselves on top of +the hill we crawled and stuck just our heads up, Indian scouts fashion, +to reconnoiter. The top was clear of enemy. Sitting a minute, to look, +we could see old Pilot Peak and the snowy range where we Scouts ought to +be crossing, bearing the message. We believed that now the gang with +prisoners were traveling to cross the range, too. They had the message, +of course, and that was bad, unless we could head them off. So we sort +of hitched our belts another notch and traveled as fast as we could. + +The hill we were on spread into a plateau of low cedars and scrubby +pines; the snowy range, with Pilot Peak sticking up, was before. After +we had been hiking for two or three hours, off diagonally to the left we +saw a forest fire. This was thick timber country, and the fire made a +tremendous smoke. It was likely to be a big fire, and we wondered if the +ranger was fighting it. As for us, we were on the trail and must hurry. + +We watched the fire, but we were not afraid of it, yet. The plateau was +too bare for it, if it came our way. The smoke grew worse--a black, +rolling smoke; and we could almost see the great sheets of flame +leaping. We were glad we weren't in it, and that we didn't know of +anybody else who was in it. But whoever had set it had done a dreadful +thing. + +The trail of the burros and of the horses, mixed, continued on, and left +the plateau and dipped down into a wide flat, getting nearer to the +timber on the slope opposite. Then out from our left, or on the fire +side, a man came riding hard. He shouted and waved at us, so we stopped. + +He was the Ranger. I tell you, but he looked tired and angry. His eyes +were red-rimmed and his face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and holes +were burned in his clothes and his horse's hide. + +"I want you boys," he panted, as soon as he drew up. "We've got to stop +that fire. See it?" + +Of course we'd seen it. But--it wasn't any of our business, was it? + +"I want you to hurry over there to a fire line and keep the fire from +crossing. Quick! Savvy?" + +"I don't believe we can, sir," I said. "We're on the trail." + +"What difference does that make?" + +"We're after a gang who have three of our men and we want to stop them +before they cross the range." + +"You follow me." + +"I'm sorry," I said; "but we're trailing. We're obeying orders." + +"Whose orders?" + +"Our Patrol leader's." + +"Who's he?" + +"General Ashley--I mean, Roger Franklin. He's another boy. But he's been +captured and two of our partners. We're to follow and rescue them. We've +got to go." + +"No, you haven't," answered the Ranger. "Not until after this fire is +under control. You'll be paid for your time." + +"We don't care anything about the pay," said Kit Carson. "We've got to +go on." + +"Well, I'm giving you higher orders from a higher officer, then," +retorted the Ranger. "I'm giving you orders from the President of the +United States. This is Government work, and I'm representing the +Government. I reckon you Boy Scouts want to support the Government, +don't you?" + +Sure we did. + +"If that fire goes it will burn millions of dollars' worth of timber, +and may destroy ranches and people, too. It's your duty now to help the +Government and to put it out. Your duty to Uncle Sam is bigger than any +duty to private Scouts' affairs. And it is the law that anybody seeing a +forest fire near him shall report it or aid in extinguishing it. Now, +are you coming, or will you sneak off with an excuse?" + +"Why--coming!" we all cried at once. We hated to leave the trail--to +leave the general and Fitz and Jim Bridger and the message to their +fate; but the Government was calling, here, and the first duty of good +Scouts is to be good citizens. + +"Pass up your blanket rolls," ordered the Ranger. "You smallest kid +climb behind me. Each of you two others catch hold of a stirrup. Then we +can make time across." + +In a second away we all went at a trot, heading for the timber and the +fire. + +"I rode right through that fire to get you," said the Ranger. "I saw +you. I've got two or three guards working up over the ridge. Your job is +to watch a fire line that runs along this side of the base of that point +yonder. One end of the fire line is a boggy place with willows and +aspens; and if we can keep the fire from jumping those willows and +starting across, down the valley, and those fellows on the other side of +the ridge can head it off, in their direction, then we'll stop it by +back-firing at the edge of Brazito canyon." + +He talked as rapidly as we moved--and that was good fast Scouts' trot, +for us. The hold on the stirrups and latigos helped a lot. It lifted us +over the ground. We all crossed the flat diagonally and struck into a +draw or valley full of timber and with a creek in it, at right angles to +the flat. Up this we scooted, hard as we could pelt. + +"Tired? Want to rest a second?" he asked. + +We grunted "No," for we had our second wind and little Jed Smith was +hanging on tight, behind the saddle. Besides, the fire was right ahead, +toward the left, belching up its great rolls of black-and-white smoke. +And at the same time (although we didn't know it) the gang who had +started it were fleeing in one direction, from it, and the general and +Fitzpatrick were loose and fleeing in another direction, and Jim Bridger +was smelling it and with the Red Fox Patrol was drawing near to it and +not knowing, and the beaver man was tying up his leg and about to run +right into it. + +But we were to help stop it. + +"Here!" spoke the Ranger. "Here's the fire line, this cleared space like +a trail. It runs to those willows a quarter of a mile below. When the +fire comes along this ridge you watch this line and beat out and stamp +out every flame. See? You can do it. It won't travel fast, down-hill; +but if ever it crosses the line and reaches the bottom of the valley +where the brush is thick, there's no knowing where it will stop. It will +burn willows and everything else. One of you drop off here; I'll take +the others further. Then I must make tracks for the front." + +We left Kit Carson here. Jed Smith climbed down and was left next, in +the middle, and I was hustled to the upper end. + +"So long," said the Ranger. "Don't let it get past you. It won't. Work +hard, and if you're really in danger run for the creek. But Boy Scouts +of America don't run till they have to. You can save lives and a heap of +timber, by licking the fire at this point. I'll see you later." And off +he spurred, through the timber, across the front of the fire. + +He wasn't afraid--and so we weren't, either. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE CAPTURE OF THE BEAVER MAN + + +The fire line looked like some old wood-road, where trees had been cut +out and brush cleared away. It extended through the timber, striking the +thin places and the rocky bare places, and the highest places, and wound +on, half a mile, over a point. This point, with a long slope from the +ridge to the valley there, was open and fire-proof. The lower end of the +line was that willow bog, which lay in a basin right in a split of the +timber. Away across from our ridge was another gravelly ridge, and +beyond that was the snowy range. (Note 53.) + +The smoke was growing thick and strong, so that we could smell it plain. +The fire was coming right along, making for us. There were the three of +us to cover a half-mile or more of fire line, so we got busy. We divided +the line into three patrols, and set to work tramping down the brush on +the fire side of it and making ready. + +Pretty soon wild animals began to pass, routed out by the fire. That was +fun, to watch deer and coyotes and rabbits and other things scoot by, +among the trees, as if they were moving pictures. Once I saw a wolf, +and little Jed Smith called that he had seen a bear. Kit Carson reported +that some of the animals seemed to be heading into the willow bog beyond +his end of the line. + +It was kind of nervous work, getting ready and waiting for the fire. It +was worse than actual fighting, and we'd rather meet the fire halfway +than wait for it to come to us. But we were here to wait. + +The fire did not arrive all at once, with a jump. Not where I was. A +thin blue smoke, lazy and harmless, drifted through among the trees, and +a crackling sounded louder and louder. Then there were breaths of hot +air, as if a dragon was foraging about. Birds flew over, calling and +excited, and squirrels raced along, and porcupines and skunks, and even +worms and ants crawled and ran, trying to escape the dragon. A wind +blew, and the timber moaned as if hurt and frightened. I felt sorry for +the pines and spruces and cedars. They could not run away, and they were +doomed to be burnt alive. + +The birds all had gone, worms and ants and bugs were still hurrying, and +the timber was quiet except for the crackling. Now I glimpsed the dragon +himself. He was digging around, up the slope a little way, extending his +claws further and further like a cat as he explored new ground and +gathered in every morsel. + +This is the way the fire came--not roaring and leaping, but sneaking +along the ground and among the bushes, with little advance squads like +dragon's claws or like the scouts of an army, reconnoitering. The +crackling increased, the hot gusts blew oftener, I could see back into +the dragon's great mouth where bushes and trees were flaming and +disappearing--and suddenly he gave a roar and leaped for our fire line, +and ate a bush near it. + +Then I leaped for him and struck a paw down with my stick. So we began +to fight. + +It wasn't a crown fire, where the flames travel through the tops of the +timber; it traveled along the ground, and climbed the low trees and then +reached for the big ones. But when it came near the fire line, it +stopped and felt about sort of blindly, and that was our chance to jump +on it and stamp it out and beat it out and kill it. + +The smoke was awful, and so was the heat, but the wind helped me and +carried most of it past. And now the old dragon was right in front of +me, raging and snapping. The fore part of him must be approaching Jed +Smith, further along the line. I whistled the Scout whistle, loud, and +gave the Scout halloo--and from Jed echoed back the signal to show that +all was well. + +This was hot work, for Sunday or any day. The smoke choked and blinded, +and the air fairly scorched. Pine makes a bad blaze. What I had to do +was to run back and forth along the fire line, crushing the dragon's +claws. My shoes felt burned through and my face felt blistered, and +jiminy, how I sweat! But that dragon never got across my part of the +fire line. + +The space inside my part was burnt out and smoldering, and I could join +with Jed. There were two of us to lick the fire, here; but the dragon +was raging worse and the two of us were needed. He kept us busy. I +suppose that there was more brush. And when we would follow him down, +and help Kit, he was worse than ever. How he roared! + +He was determined to get across and go around that willow bog. Once he +did get across, and we chased him and fought him back with feet and +hands and even rolled on him. A bad wind had sprung up, and we didn't +know but that we were to have a crown fire. The heat would have baked +bread; the cinders were flying and we must watch those, to catch them +when they landed. We had to be everywhere at once--in the smoke and the +cinders and the flames, and if I hadn't been a Scout, stationed with +orders, I for one would have been willing to sit and rest, just for a +minute, and let the blamed fire go. But I didn't, and Kit and Jed +didn't; all of a sudden the dragon quit, and with roar and crackle went +plunging on, along the ridge inside the willow bog. We had held the fire +line--and we didn't know that Jim Bridger and the Red Fox Scouts were +in those willows which we had saved because we had been ordered to! + +Then, when just a few little blazes remained to be trampled and beaten +out, but while the timber further in was still aflame, Jed cried: +"Look!" and we saw a man coming, staggering and coughing, down through a +rocky little canyon which cut the black, smoking slope. + +He fell, and we rushed to get him. + +Blazing branches were falling, all about; the air was two hundred in the +shade; and in that little canyon the rocks seemed red-hot. But the fire +hadn't got into the canyon, much, because it was narrow and bare; and +the man must have been following it and have made it save his life. He +was in bad shape, though. Before we reached him he had stood up and +tumbled several times, trying to feel his way along. + +"Wait! We're coming," I called. He heard, and tried to see. + +"All right," he answered hoarsely. "Come ahead." + +We reached him. Kit Carson and I held him up by putting his arms over +our shoulders, and with Jed walking behind we helped him through the +canyon and out to the fire line. He groaned and grunted. His eyebrows +were crisped and his hair was singed and his shoes were cinders and his +hands and face were scarred, and his eyes were all bloodshot, and he had +holes through his clothes. + +"Fire out?" he asked. "I can't see." + +"It isn't out, but it's past," said Jed. + +"Well, it mighty near got _me_," he groaned. "It corralled me on that +ridge. If I hadn't cached myself in that little canyon, I'd have been +burned to a crisp. It burned my hoss, I reckon. He jerked loose from me +and left me to go it alone with my wounded leg. Water! Ain't there a +creek ahead? Gimme some water." + +While he was mumbling we set him down, beyond the fire line. It didn't +seem as though we could get him any further. Kit hustled for water, Jed +skipped to get first-aid stuff from a blanket-roll, and I made an +examination. + +His face and hands were blistered--maybe his eyes were scorched--there +was a bloody place wrapped about with a dirty red handkerchief, on the +calf of his left leg. But I couldn't do much until I had scissors or a +sharp knife, and water. + +"Who are you kids?" he asked. "Fishin'?" He was lying with his eyes +closed. + +"No. We're some Boy Scouts." + +He didn't seem to like this. "Great Scott!" he complained. "Ain't there +nobody but Boy Scouts in these mountains?" + +Just then Kit came back with a hat of water from a boggy place. It was +muddy water, but it looked wet and good, and the man gulped it down, +except what I used to soak our handkerchiefs in. Kit went for more. Jed +arrived with first-aid stuff, and I set to work, Jed helping. + +We let the man wipe his own face, while we cut open his shirt where it +had stuck to the flesh. + +"Here!" he said suddenly. "Quit that. What's the matter with you?" + +But he was too late. When I got inside his undershirt, there on a +buckskin cord was hanging something that we had seen before. At least, +it either was the message of the Elk Patrol or else a package exactly +like it. + +"Is that yours?" I asked. + +"Maybe yes, and maybe no. Why?" he growled. + +"Because if it isn't, we'd like to know where you got it." + +"And if you don't tell, we'll go on and let you be," snapped little Jed. + +"Shut up," I ordered--which wasn't the right way, but I said it before I +thought. Jed had made me angry. "No, we won't." And we wouldn't. Our +duty was to fix him the best we could. "But that looks like something +belonging to us Scouts, and it has our private mark on it. We'd like to +have you explain where you got it." + +"He's _got_ to explain, too," said little Jed, excited. + +"Have I?" grinned the man, hurting his face. "Why so?" + +"There are three of us kids. We can keep sight of you till that Ranger +comes back. He'll make you." + +"Who?" + +"That Forest Ranger. He's a Government officer." + +Kit Carson arrived, staring, with more water. + +"I know you!" he panted. He signed to us, pointing at the man's feet. +"You were at that other camp!" And Jed and I looked and saw the hole in +the left sole--although both soles were badly burned, now. By that mark +he was the beaver man! He wriggled uneasily as if he had a notion to sit +up. + +"Well, if you want it so bad, and it's yours, take it." And in a jiffy I +had cut it loose with my knife. "It's been a hoodoo to me. How did you +know I was at any other camp? Are you those three kids?" + +"We saw your tracks," I answered. "What three kids?" + +"The three kids those other fellows had corralled." + +"No, but we're their partners. We're looking for them." + +He'd had another drink of water and his face squinted at us, as we +fussed about him. Kit took off one of the shoes and I the other, to get +at the blistered feet. + +"Never saw you before, did I?" + +"Maybe not." + +"Well, I'll tell you some news. One of your partners got away." + +That was good. + +"How do you know?" we all three asked. + +"I met him, back on the trail, with two new kids." + +"Which one was he? What did he look like?" + +"A young lad, dressed like you. Carried a bow and arrow." + +"Brown eyes and big ears?" + +"Brown eyes, I reckon. Didn't notice his ears." + +That must have been Jim Bridger. + +"Who were the two fellows?" + +"More of you Scouts, I reckon. Carried packs on their backs. Dressed in +khaki and leggins, like soldiers." + +They weren't any of us Elks, then. But we were tremendously excited. + +"When?" + +"This noon." + +That sure was news. Hurrah for Jim Bridger! + +"Did you see a one-armed boy?" + +"Saw him in that camp, where the three of 'em were corralled." + +"What kind of a crowd had they? Was one wearing a big revolver?" + +"Yes. 'Bout as big as he was. They looked like some tough town bunch." + +"How many?" + +"Eight or ten." + +Oho! + +"Did you hear anybody called Bill?" + +"Yes; also Bat and Mike and Walt and et cetery." + +We'd fired these questions at him as fast as we could get them in +edgewise, and now we knew a heap. The signs had told us true. Those two +recruits had joined with the town gang, and our Scouts had been +captured; but escape had been attempted and Jim Bridger had got away. + +"How did you get that packet?" asked Kit. + +"Found it." + +He spoke short as if he was done talking. It seemed that he had told us +the truth, so far; but if we kept questioning him much more he might get +tired or cross, and lie. We might ask foolish questions, too; and +foolish questions are worse than no questions. + +We had done a good job on this man, as appeared to us. We had bathed his +face, and had exposed the worst burns on his body and arms and legs and +had covered them with carbolized vaseline and gauze held on with +adhesive plaster, and had cleaned the wound in his leg. It was a +regular hole, but we didn't ask him how he got it. 'Twas in mighty bad +shape, for it hadn't been attended to right and was dirty and swollen. +Cold clear water dripped into it to flush it and clean it and reduce the +inflammation would have been fine, but we didn't have that kind of water +handy; so we sifted some boric powder into it and over it and bound on +it a pad of dry sterilized gauze, but not too tight. I asked him if +there was a bullet or anything else in it, and he said no. He had run +against a stick. This was about all that we could do to it, and play +safe by not poking into it too much. (Note 54.) + +He seemed to feel pretty good, now, and sat up. + +"Well," he said, "now I've given you boys your message and told you what +I know, and you've fixed me up, so I'll be movin' on. Where are those +things I used to call shoes?" + +We exchanged glances. He was the beaver man. + +"We aren't through yet," I said. + +"Oh, I reckon you are," he answered. "I'm much obliged. Pass me the +shoes, will you?" + +"No; wait," said Kit Carson. + +"What for?" He was beginning to growl. + +"Till you're all fixed." + +"I'm fixed enough." + +"We'll dress some of those wounds over again." + +"No, you won't. Pass me those shoes." + +They were hidden behind a tree. + +"Can't you wait a little?" + +"No, I can't wait a little." He was growling in earnest. "Will you pass +me those shoes?" + +"No, we won't," announced Kit. He was getting angry, too. + +"You pass me those shoes or something is liable to happen to you mighty +sudden. I'll break you in two." + +"I'll get the rifle," said Jed, and started; but I called him back. We +didn't need a rifle. + +"He can't do anything in bare feet like that," I said. And he couldn't. +His feet were too soft and burned. That is why we kept the shoes, of +course. + +"I can't, eh?" + +"No. We aren't afraid." + +He started to stand, and then he sat back again. + +"I'll put a hole in some of you," he muttered; and felt at the side of +his chest. But if he had carried a gun in a Texas holster there, it was +gone. "Say, you, what's the matter with you?" he queried. "What do you +want to keep me here for?" + +"You'd better wait. We'll stay, too." + +He glared at us. Then he began to wheedle. + +"Say, what'd I ever do to you? Didn't I give you back that message, and +tell you all I knew? Didn't I help you out as much as I could?" + +"Sure," we said. + +"Then what have you got it in for me for?" + +"We'd rather you'd wait till the Ranger or somebody comes along," I +explained. + +He fumbled in a pants pocket. + +"Lookee here," he offered. And he held it out. "Here's a twenty-dollar +gold piece. Take it and divvy it among you; and I'll go along and +nobody'll be the wiser." + +"No, thanks," we said. + +"I'll make it twenty apiece for each," he insisted. "Here they are. See? +Give me those shoes, and take these yellow bucks and go and have a good +time." + +But we shook our heads, and had to laugh. He couldn't bluff us Scouts, +and he couldn't bribe us, either. He twisted and stood up, and we jumped +away, and Kit was ready to grab up the shoes and carry them across into +the burned timber where the ground was still hot. + +The man swore and threatened frightfully. + +"I'd like to get my fingers on one of you, once," he stormed. "You'd +sing a different tune." + +So we would. But we had the advantage now and we didn't propose to lose +it. He couldn't travel far in bare, blistered feet. I wished that he'd +sit down again. We didn't want to torment him or nag him, just because +we had him. He did sit down. + +"What do you think I am, anyhow?" he asked. + +"Well, you've been killing beaver," I told him. + +"Who said so?" + +"We saw you at the beaver-pond, when we were camping opposite. And just +after you left the game warden came along, looking for you." + +"You saw some other man." + +"No, we didn't. We know your tracks. And if you aren't the man, then +you'll be let go." + +"You kids make me tired," he grumbled, and tried to laugh it off. +"Supposin' a man does trap a beaver or two. They're made to be trapped. +They have to be trapped or else they dam up streams and overflow good +land. Nobody misses a few beaver, anyhow, in the timber. This is a free +land, ain't it?" + +"Killing beaver is against the law, just the same," said Jed. + +"You kids didn't make the law, did you? You aren't judge of the law, are +you?" + +"No," I said. "But we know what it is and we don't think it ought to be +broken. If people go ahead breaking the game laws, then there won't be +any game left for the people who keep the laws to see or hunt. And the +less game there is, the more laws there'll be." I knew that by heart. It +was what Scouts are taught. + +This sounded like preaching. But it was true. And while he was fuming +and growling and figuring on what to do, we were mighty glad to hear a +horse's hoofs. The Ranger came galloping down the fire line. + +"Hello," he said. He was streaked with ashes and soot and sweat, and so +was his horse, and they both looked worn to a frazzle. "Well, we've +licked the fire. Who's that? Somebody hurt?" Then he gave another quick +look. "Why, how are you, Jack? You must have run against something +unexpected." + +The beaver man only growled, as if mad and disgusted. + +I saluted. + +"We have held the fire line, sir," I reported. + +"You bet!" answered the Ranger. "You did well. And now you're holding +Jack, are you? You needn't explain. I know all about him. Since that +fire drove him out along with other animals, we'll hang on to him. The +game warden spoke to me about him a long time ago." + +"You fellows think you're mighty smart. Do I get my shoes, or not?" +growled the beaver man. + +"Not," answered the Ranger, cheerfully. "We'll wrap your feet up with a +few handkerchiefs and let you ride this horse." He got down. "What's the +matter? Burns? Bad leg? Say! These kids are some class on first-aid, +aren't they! You're lucky. Did you thank them? Now you can ride nicely +and the game warden will sure be glad to see you." Then he spoke to us. +"I'm going over to my cabin, boys, where there's a telephone. Better +come along and spend the night." + +We hustled for our blanket-rolls. The beaver man gruntingly climbed +aboard the Ranger's horse, and we all set out. The Ranger led the horse, +and carried his rifle. + +"Is the fire out?" asked Kit Carson. + +"Not out, but it's under control. It'll burn itself out, where it's +confined. I've left a squad to guard it and I'll telephone in to +headquarters and report. But if it had got across this fire line and +around those willows, we'd have been fighting it for a week." + +"How did it start?" + +"Somebody's camp-fire." + +The trail we were making led through the timber and on, across a little +creek and up the opposite slope. The sun was just setting as we came out +beyond the timber, and made diagonally up a bare ridge. On top it looked +like one end of that plateau we had crossed when we were trailing the +gang and we had first seen the fire. + +The Ranger had come up here because traveling was better and he could +take a good look around. We halted, puffing, while he looked. Off to the +west was the snowy range, and old Pilot Peak again, with the sun setting +right beside him, in a crack. The range didn't seem far, but it seemed +cold and bleak--and over it we were bound. Only, although now we had the +message, we didn't have the other Scouts. If they were burned--oh, +jiminy! + +"Great Cæsar! More smoke!" groaned the Ranger. "If that's another fire +started--!" + +His words made us jump and gaze about. Yes, there was smoke, plenty of +it, over where the forest fire we had fought was still alive. But he was +looking in another direction, down along the top of the plateau. + +"See it?" he asked. + +Yes, we saw it. But--! And then our hearts gave a great leap. + +"That's not a forest fire!" we cried. "That's a smoke signal!" + +"A what?" + +"A smoke signal! And--" + +"Wait a second. We'll read it, if we can. Scouts must be over there," I +exclaimed. + +"More Scouts!" grunted the beaver man. "These here hills are plumb full +of 'em." + +The air was quiet, and the smoke rose straight up, with the sun tinting +the top. It was a pretty sight, to us. Then we saw two puffs and a +pause, and two puffs and a pause, and two puffs and a pause. It was our +private Elk Patrol code, and it was beautiful. We cheered. + +"It's from our partners, and it says 'Come to council,'" I reported. +"They're hunting for us. We'll have to go over there." + +"Think they're in trouble?" + +"They don't say so, but we ought to signal back and go right over." + +"I'll go, too, for luck, and see you through, then," said the Ranger. + +"Do I have to make that extra ride?" complained the beaver man, angry +again. + +"Sure," answered the Ranger. "That's only a mile or so and then it's +only a few more miles to the cabin, and we aren't afraid of the dark." + +They watched us curiously while we hustled and scraped a pile of dead +sage and grass and rubbish, and set it to smoking and made the Elks' "O. +K." signal. The other Scouts must have been sweeping the horizon and +hoping, for back came the "O. K." signal from them. + +And traveling our fastest, with the beaver man grumbling, we all headed +across the plateau for the place of the smoke. Sunday was turning out +good, after all. + +[Illustration: "IT WAS OUR PRIVATE ELK PATROL CODE."] + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +GENERAL ASHLEY DROPS OUT + +(JIM BRIDGER RESUMES THE TALE) + + +I tell you, we were glad to have that smoke of ours answered, and to see +Major Henry and Kit Carson and Jed Smith coming, in the twilight, with +the Ranger and the beaver man. We guessed that the three boys must be +our three partners--and when they waved with the Elk Patrol sign we +knew; but of course we didn't know who the two strangers were. + +While they were approaching, Major Henry wigwagged: "All there?" with +his cap; and Fitzpatrick wigwagged back: "Sure!" They arrived opposite +us, and then headed by the man with the rifle, who was leading the +horse, they obliqued up along the gulch as if they knew of a crossing; +so we decided that one of the strangers must be acquainted with the +country. They made a fine sight, against the horizon. + +Pretty soon into the gulch they plunged, and after a few minutes out +they scrambled, man and horse first, on our side, and came back toward +us. And in a minute more we Elk Scouts were dancing and hugging each +other, and calling each other by our regular ordinary names, "Fat" and +"Sliver" and "Red" and all, and discipline didn't cut much figure. That +was a joyful reunion. The Ranger and his prisoner, the beaver man, +looked on. + +Then when Major Henry hauled out the message packet, and saluting and +grinning passed it to the general, our cup was full. I was as glad as if +I had passed it, myself. "One for all, and all for one," is the way we +Scouts work. + +"If you hadn't trailed him (the beaver man) and headed him and fixed him +so he couldn't travel fast, he'd have got away from the fire and +wouldn't have run into _us_," claimed Major Henry. + +"And if you fellows hadn't held that fire line you wouldn't have seen +him and we might have been burnt or suffocated in the willows," I +claimed back. + +So what seems a failure or a bother, when you're trying your best, often +is the most important thing of all, or helps make the chain complete. + +But now we didn't take much time to explain to each other or to swap +yarns; for the twilight was gone and the dark was closing in, and we +weren't in the best of shape. The burro Apache was packed with bedding, +mostly, which was a good thing, of course; the Red Fox Scouts had their +outfit; but we Elks were short on grub. That piece of bacon and just +the little other stuff carried by the Major Henry party were our +provisions. Fitz and the poor general were making a hungry camp, when we +had discovered them. And then there was the general, laid up. + +"What's the matter with you, kid?" queried the Ranger. + +"Sprained ankle, I think." + +"That's sure bad," sympathized the Ranger. + +And it sure was. + +"Boys, I'll have to be traveling for that cabin of mine, to report about +the fire and this man," said the Ranger, after listening to our talk for +a minute. "If you're grub-shy, some of you had better come along and +I'll send back enough to help you out." + +That was mighty nice of him. And the general spoke up, weakly. "How far +is the cabin, please?" + +"About three miles, straight across." + +"If I could make it, could I stay there a little while?" + +"Stay a year, if you want to. We'll pack you over, if you'll go. Can you +ride?" + +"All right," said the general. "I'll do it. Now, you fellows, listen. +Major Henry, I turn the command and the message over to you. I'm no +good; I can't travel and we've spent a lot of time already, and I'd be +only a drag. So I'll drop out and go over to that cabin, and you other +Scouts take the message." + +Oh, we didn't want to do that! Leave the general? Never! + +"No, sir, we'll take you along if we have to carry you on our backs," we +said; and we started in, all to talk at once. But he made us quit. + +"Say, do I have to sit here all night while you chew the rag?" grumbled +the beaver man. But we didn't pay attention to _him_. + +"It doesn't matter about me, whether I go or not, as long as we get that +message through," answered the general, to us. "I can't travel, and I'd +only hold you back and delay things. I'll quit, and the rest of you +hustle and make up for lost time." + +"I'll stay with you. This is Scout custom: two by two," spoke up little +Jed Smith. He was the general's mate. + +"Nobody stays with me. You all go right on under Corporal Henry." + +"It'll be plumb dark before we get to that cabin," grumbled the beaver +man. "This ain't any way to treat a fellow who's been stuck and then +burnt. I'm tired o' sittin' on this hoss with my toes out." + +"Well, you can get off and let this other man ride. I'll hobble you and +he can lead you," said the Ranger. + +"What's the matter with the burro?" growled the beaver man. He wasn't +so anxious to walk, after all. + +Sure! We knew that the Ranger was waiting, so while some of us led up +Apache, others bandaged the general's ankle tighter, to make it ride +easier and not hurt so much if it dangled. Then we lifted the general, +Scout fashion, on our hands, and set him on Apache. + +Now something else happened. Red Fox Scout Ward stepped forward and took +the lead rope. + +"I'm going," he announced quietly. "I'm feeling fine and you other +fellows are tired. Somebody must bring the burro back, and the general +may need a hand." + +"No, I won't," corrected the general. + +"But the burro must come back." + +"It's up to us Elk Scouts to do that," protested Major Henry. "Some of +us will go. You stay. It's dark." + +"No, sir. You Elk men have been traveling on short rations and Van Sant +and I have been fed up. It's either Van or I, and I'll go." And he did. +He was bound to. But it was a long extra tramp. + +We shook hands with the general, and gave him the Scouts' cheer; and a +cheer for the Ranger. + +"Ain't we ever goin' to move on?" grumbled the beaver man. + +"I may stay all night and be back early in the morning," called Ward. + +"Of course." + +They trailed away, in the dimness--the Ranger ahead leading the beaver +man, Red Fox Scout Ward leading Apache. And we were sorry to see them +go. We should miss the plucky Ashley, our captain. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A BURRO IN BED + + +When I woke in the morning Fitz was already up, building the fire, +according to routine, and Red Fox Scout Van Sant was helping him. So I +rolled out at once, and here came Red Fox Scout Ward with the burro, +across the mesa, for the camp. + +He brought a little flour and a few potatoes and a big hunk of meat, and +a fry-pan. He brought a map of the country, too, that he had sketched +from information from the Ranger. That crack beside Pilot Peak, where +the sun had set, was a pass through, which we could take for Green +Valley. It was a pass used by the Indians and buffalo, once, and an old +Indian trail crossed it still. The general sent word that if we took +that trail, he would get the goods we had left cached. + +"Now," reported Major Henry, when we had filled for a long day's march, +"I'll put it to vote. We can either find that cache ourselves, and take +the trail from there, as first planned, or we can head straight across +the mountain. It's a short cut for the other side of the range, but it +may be rough traveling. The other way, beyond the cache, looked pretty +rough, too. But we'd have our traps and supplies,--as much as we could +pack on Apache, anyhow." + +"I vote we go straight ahead, over the mountain, this way," said Fitz. +"We'll get through. We've got to. We've been out seven days, and we +aren't over, yet." + +We counted. That was so. Whew! We must hurry. Kit and Jed and I voted +with Fitz. + +"All right. Break camp," ordered Major Henry. + +He didn't have to speak twice. + +"That Ranger says we can strike the railroad, over on the other side, +Van, and make our connections there," said Red Fox Scout Ward to his +partner. "Let's go with the Elks and see them through that far." + +That was great. They had come off their trail a long way already, +helping me, it seemed to us--but if they wanted to keep us company +further, hurrah! Only, we wouldn't sponge off of them, just because they +had the better outfit, now. + +We policed the camp, and put out the fire, through force of habit, and +with the burro packed with the squaw hitch (Note 55), and the Red +Foxes packed, forth we started, as the sun was rising, to follow the Ute +trail, over Pilot Peak. The Red Fox Scouts carried their own stuff; they +wouldn't let us put any of it on Apache, for they were independent, too. + +Travel wasn't hard. After we crossed the gorge the top of the mesa or +plateau was flat and gravelly, with some sage and grass, and we made +good time. We missed the general, and we were sorry to leave that cache, +but we had cut loose and were taking the message on once more. Thus we +began our second week out. + +The forest fire was about done. Just a little smoke drifted up, in the +distance behind and below. But from our march we could see where the +fire had passed through the timber, yonder across; and that blackened +swath was a melancholy sight. We didn't stop for nooning, and when we +made an early camp the crack had opened out, and was a pass, sure +enough. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant and I were detailed to take the two rifles and +hunt for rabbits. We got three--two cottontails and a jack--among the +willows where a stream flowed down from the pass. The stream was +swarming here with little trout, and Jed Smith and Kit Carson caught +twenty-four in an hour. So we lived high again. + +Those Red Fox Scouts had a fine outfit. They had a water-proof silk +tent, with jointed poles. It folded to pocket size, and didn't weigh +anything at all; but when set up it was large enough for them both to +sleep in. Then they had a double sleeping bag, and blankets that were +light and warm both, and a lot of condensed foods and that little +alcohol stove, and a complete kit of aluminum cooking and eating ware +that closed together--and everything went into those two packs. + +They used the packs instead of burros or pack-horses. I believe that +animals are better in the mountains where a fellow climbs at ten and +twelve thousand feet, and where the nights are cold so he needs more +bedding than lower down. Man-packs are all right in the flat timber and +in the hills out East, I suppose. But all styles have their good points, +maybe; and a Scout must adapt himself to the country. We all can't be +the same. + +Because the Red Fox Scouts were Easterners, clear from New Jersey, and +we were Westerners, of Colorado, we sort of eyed them sideways, at +first. They had such a swell outfit, you know, and their uniform was +smack to the minute, while ours was rough and ready. They set up their +tent, and we let them--but our way was to sleep out, under tarps (when +we had tarps), in the open. We didn't know but what, on the march, they +might want to keep their own mess--they had so many things that we +didn't. But right away a good thing happened again. + +"How did Fitzpatrick lose his arm?" asked Scout Van Sant of me, when we +were out hunting and Fitz couldn't hear. + +"In the April Day mine," I said. + +"Where?" + +"Back home." + +He studied. "I _thought_ the name of that town sounded awfully familiar +to me," he said. + +When we came into camp with our rabbits, he went straight up to Fitz. + +"I hear you hurt your arm in the April Day mine," he said. + +"Yes. I was working there," answered Fitz. "Why?" + +Van Sant stuck out his hand. "Shake," he said. "My father owns that +mine--or most of it. Ever hear of him?" + +"No," said Fitz, flushing. "I'm just a mucker and a sorter. My father's +a miner." + +"Well, shake," laughed Van Sant. "I never even mucked or sorted, and you +know more than I do about it. My father just owns--and if it wasn't for +the workers like you and your father, the mine wouldn't be worth owning. +See? I'm mighty sorry you got hurt there, though." + +Fitz shook hands. "It was partly my own fault," he said. "I took a +chance. That was before your father bought the mine, anyway." + +Then he went to cooking and we cleaned our game. But from that time on +we knew the Red Fox Scouts to be all right, and their being from the +East made no difference in them. So we and they used each other's +things, and we all mixed in together and were one party. + +We had a good camp and a big rest, this night: the first time of real +peace since a long while back, it seemed to me. The next morning we +pushed on, following up along the creek, and a faint trail, for the +pass. + +This day's march was a hard climb, every hour, and it took our wind, +afoot. But by evening old Pilot Peak wasn't far at all. His snow patches +were getting larger. When we camped in a little park we must have been +up about eleven thousand feet, and the breeze from the Divide ahead of +us blew cool. + +The march now led through aspens and pines and wild flowers, with the +stream singing, and forming little waterfalls and pools and rapids, and +full of those native trout about as large as your two fingers. There was +the old Indian trail, to guide us. It didn't have a track except +deer-tracks, and we might have been the only white persons ever here. +That was fine. Another sign was the amount of game. Of course, some of +the game may have been driven here by the forest fire. But we saw lots +of grouse, which sat as we passed by, and rabbits and porcupines, and +out of the aspens we jumped deer. + +We arrived where the pretty little stream, full of songs and pictures +and trout, came tumbling out of a canyon with bottom space for just it +alone. The old Indian trail obliqued off, up a slope, through the timber +on the right, and so did we. + +It was very quiet, here. The lumber folks had not got in with their saws +and axes, and the trees were great spruces, so high and stately that we +felt like ants. Among the shaded, nice-smelling aisles the old trail +wound. Sometimes it was so covered with the fallen needles that we could +not see it; and it had been blazed, years ago, by trappers or somebody, +and where it crossed glades we came upon it again. It was an easy trail. + +We reached the top of a little ridge, and before us we saw the pass. +'Twas a wide, open pass, with snow-banks showing on it, and the sun +swinging down to set behind it. + +The trail forked, one branch making for the pass, the other making for +the right, where Pilot Peak loomed close at hand. There was some reason +why the trail forked, and as we surveyed we caught the glint of a lake, +over there. + +Major Henry examined the sketch map. "That must be Medicine Lake," he +said. "I think we'd better go over there and camp, instead of trying the +pass. We're sure of wood and water, and it won't be so windy." + +The trail took us safely to the brow of a little basin, and looking down +we saw the lake. It was lying at the base of Pilot Peak. Above it on one +side rose a steep slope of a gray slide-rock, like a railway cut, only +of course no railroad was around here; and all about, on the other +sides, were pointed pines. + +I tell you, that was beautiful. And when we got to the lake we found it +to be black as ink--only upon looking into it you could see down, as if +you were looking through smoky crystal. The water was icy cold, and full +of specks dancing where the sun struck, and must have been terrifically +deep. + +We camped beside an old log cabin, all in ruins. It was partly roofed +over with sod, but we spread our beds outside; these old cabins are +great places for pack-rats and skunks and other animals like those. Fish +were jumping in the lake, and the two Red Fox Scouts and I were detailed +to catch some. The Red Fox Scouts tried flies, but the water was as +smooth as glass, and you can't fool these mountain lake-trout, very +often, that way. Then we put on spinners and trolled from the shores by +casting. We could see the fish, gliding sluggishly about,--great big +fellows; but they never noticed our hooks, and we didn't have a single +strike. So we must quit, disgusted. + +The night was grand. The moon was full, and came floating up over the +dark timber which we had left, to shine on us and on the black lake and +on the mountain. Resting there in our blankets, we Elk Scouts could see +all about us. The lake lay silent and glassy, except when now and then a +big old trout plashed. The slide-rock bank gleamed white, and above it +stretched the long rocky slope of Pilot, with the moon casting lights +and shadows clear to its top. + +This was a mighty lonely spot, up here, by the queer lake, with timber +on one side and the mountain on the other; the air was frosty, because +ice would form any night, so high; not a sound could be heard, save the +plash of trout, or the sighs of Apache as he fidgeted and dozed and +grazed; but the Red Fox Scouts were snug under their tent, and under our +bedding we Elks were cuddled warm, in two pairs and with Major Henry +sleeping single. + +We did not need to hobble or picket Apache. (Note 56.) He had come so +far that he followed like a dog and stayed around us like a dog. When +you get a burro out into the timber or desert wilds and have cut him +loose from his regular stamping ground, then he won't be separated from +you. He's afraid. Burros are awfully funny animals. They like company. +So when we camped we just turned Apache out, and he hung about pretty +close, expecting scraps of bread and stuff and enjoying our +conversation. + +To-night he kept snorting and fussing, and edging in on us, and before +we went to sleep we had to throw sticks at him and shoo him off. It +seemed too lonesome for him, up here. Then we dropped to sleep, under +the moon--and then, the first thing Fitz and I knew, Apache was trying +to crawl into bed with us! + +That waked us. Nobody can sleep with a burro under the same blanket. +Apache was right astraddle of us and was shaking like an aspen leaf; his +long ears were pricked, he was glaring about, and how he snorted! I sat +up; so did Fitz. We were afraid that Apache might step on our faces. + +"Get out, Apache!" we begged. But he wouldn't "get." He didn't budge, +and we had to push him aside, with our hands against his stomach. + +Now the whole camp was astir, grumbling and turning. Apache ran and +tried to bunk with Kit and Jed. "Get out!" scolded Kit; and repulsed +here, poor Apache stuck his nose in between the flaps of the silk tent +and began to shove inside. + +Something crackled amidst the brush along the lake, and there sounded a +snort from that direction, also. It was a peculiar snort. It was a +grunty, blowy snort. And beside me Fitz stiffened and lifted his head +further. + +"Bear!" he whispered. + +"Whoof!" it answered. + +"Bear! Look out! There's a bear around!" said the camp, from bed to bed. + +Down came the silk tent on top of Apache, and out from under wriggled +the Red Fox Scouts, as fast as they could move. Their hair was rumpled +up, they were pale in the moonlight, and Van Sant had his twenty-two +rifle ready. That must have startled them, to be waked by a big thing +like Apache forcing a way into their tent. + +"Who said bear? Where is it?" demanded Van Sant. + +"Don't shoot!" ordered Major Henry, sharply, sitting up. "Don't anybody +shoot. That will make things worse. Tumble out, everybody, and raise a +noise. Give a yell. We can scare him." + +"I see it!" cried Ward. "Look! In that clear spot yonder--up along the +lake, about thirty yards." + +Right! A blackish thing as big as a cow was standing out in the +moonlight, facing us, its head high. We could almost see its nostrils as +it sniffed. + +Up we sprang, and whooped and shouted and waved and threw sticks and +stones into the brush. With another tremendous "Whoof!" the bear +wheeled, and went crashing through the brush as if it had a tin can tied +to its tail. We all cheered and laughed. + +"Jiminy! I ought to have tried a flashlight of it," exclaimed Fitz, +excited. "If we see another bear I'm sure going to get its picture. I +need some bear pictures. Don't let's be in such a hurry, next time." + +"That depends on the bear," said little Jed Smith. "Sometimes you can't +help being in a hurry, with a bear." + +"Guess we'd better dig the burro out of our tent," remarked Scout Ward. +"He smelled that bear, didn't he?" + +He certainly did. If there's one thing a burro is afraid of, it's a +bear. No wonder poor Apache tried to crawl in with us. We hauled him +loose of the tent, and helped the Red Fox Scouts set the tent up again. +Apache snorted and stared about; and finally he quieted a little and +went to browsing, close by, and we Scouts turned in to sleep again. + +When I woke the next time it was morning and the bear had not come back, +for Apache was standing fast asleep in the first rays of the sun, at the +edge of the camp. + +We could catch no fish for breakfast. They paid no attention to any +bait. So we had the last of the meat, and some condensed sausage that +the Red Fox Scouts contributed to the pot. During breakfast we held a +council; old Pilot Peak stuck up so near and inviting. + +"I've been thinking, boys, that maybe we ought to climb Pilot, for a +record, now we've got a good chance," proposed Major Henry. "What do you +say. Shall we vote on it?" + +"How high is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward. + +Major Henry looked at the map of the state. "Fourteen thousand, two +hundred and ten feet." + +"Whew!" Scout Ward eyed it. "We'd certainly like to make it. That would +be a chance for an honor, eh, Van?" + +"You bet," agreed Van Sant. + +"He's sure some mountain," we said. + +"We haven't any time to spare from the trail," went on Major Henry, "and +it would kill a day, to the top and back. So we ought to double up by +traveling by night, some. But that wouldn't hurt any; it would be fun, +by moonlight. Now, if you're ready, all who vote to take the Red Fox +Scouts and climb old Pilot Peak for a record hold up their right hands." + +"We won't vote. Don't make the climb on our account," cried the Red Fox +Scouts. + +"Let's do it. I've never been fourteen thousand feet, myself," declared +Fitz. + +And we all held up our right hands. + +"Bueno," quoth Major Henry. "Then we go. We'll climb Pilot and put in +extra time on the trail. Cache the stuff, police the camp, put out the +fire, take what grub we can in our pockets, and the sooner we start the +better." + +Maybe we ought not to have done this. Our business was the message. We +weren't out for fun or for honors. We were out to carry that message +through in the shortest time possible. The climb was not necessary--and +I for one had a sneaking hunch that we were making a mistake. But I had +voted yes, and so had we all. If anybody had felt dubious, he ought to +have voted no. + +In the next chapter you will read what we got, by fooling with a side +issue. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +VAN SANT'S LAST CARTRIDGE + + +The way to climb a mountain is not to tackle it by the short, steep way, +but to go up by zigzags, through little gulches and passes. You arrive +about as quick and you arrive easier. + +Now from camp we eyed Old Pilot, calculating. Major Henry pointed. + +"We'll follow up that draw, first," he said. "Then we can cross over to +that ledge, and wind around and hit the long stretch, where the snow +patches are. After that, I believe, we can go right on up." + +We had just rounded the lower end of the lake, and were obliquing off +and up for the draw, when we heard a funny bawly screech behind us, and +a clattering, and along at a gallop came Apache, much excited, and at a +trot joined our rear. He did not propose to be left alone! We were glad +enough to have him, if he wanted to make the climb, too. He followed us +all the way, eating things, and gained a Scout mountain honor. + +We were traveling light, of course. Fitz had his camera slung over his +shoulder, Red Fox Scout Van Sant had his twenty-two rifle, because we +thought we might run into some grouse, and the law on grouse was out at +last and we needed meat. Nobody bothered with staffs. They're no good +when you must use hands and knees all at once, as you do on some of the +Rocky Mountains. They're a bother. + +We struck into the draw. It was shallow and bushy, with sarvice-berries +and squaw-berries and gooseberries; but we didn't stop to eat. We let +Apache do the eating. Our thought was to reach the very tip-top of +Pilot. + +The sun shone hot, making us sweat as we followed up through the draw, +in single file, Major Henry leading, Fitz next, then the Red Fox Scouts, +and we three others strung out behind, with Apache closing the rear. The +draw brought us out, as we had planned, opposite the ledge, and we swung +off to this. + +Now we were up quite high. We halted to take breath and puff. The ledge +was broad and flat and grassy, with rimrock behind it; and from it we +could look down upon the lake, far below, and the place of our camp, and +the big timber through which we had trailed, and away in the distance +was the mesa or plateau that we had crossed after the forest fire. We +were above timber-line, and all around us were only sunshine and +bareness, and warmth and nice clean smells. + +"Whew!" sighed Red Fox Scout Ward. "It's fine, fellows." + +That was enough. We knew how he felt. We felt the same. + +But of course we weren't at the top, not by any means. Major Henry +started again, on the upward trail. We followed along the ledge around +the rimrock until we came to a little pass through. That brought us into +a regular maze of big rocks, lying as if a chunk as big as a city block +had dropped and smashed, scattering pieces all about. This spot didn't +show from below. That is the way with mountains. They look smooth, but +when you get up close they break out into hills and holes and rocks and +all kinds of unexpected places, worse than measles. + +But among these jagged chunks we threaded, back and forth, always trying +to push ahead, until suddenly Red Fox Scout Ward called, "I'm out!" and +we went to him. So he was. + +That long, bare slope lay beyond, blotched with snow. The snow had not +seemed much, from below; but now it was in large patches, with drifts so +hard that we could walk on them. One drift was forty feet thick; it was +lodged against a brow, and down its face was trickling black water, +streaking it. This snow-bank away up here was the beginning of a river, +and helped make the lake. + +We had spread out, with Apache still behind. Suddenly little Jed +called. "See the chickens?" he said. + +We went over. Chirps were to be heard, and there among the drifts, on +the gravelly slope, were running and pecking and squatting a lot of +birds about like gray speckled Brahmas. They were as tame as speckled +Brahmas, too. They had red eyes and whitish tails. + +"Ptarmigan!" exclaimed Fitz, and he began to take pictures. He got some +first-class ones. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant never made a move to shoot any of them. They were +so tame and barn-yardy. We were glad enough to let them live, away up +here among the snowdrifts, where they seemed to like to be. It was their +country, not ours--and they were plucky, to choose it. So we passed on. + +The slope brought us up to a wide moraine, I guess you'd call it, where +great bowlders were heaped as thick as pebbles--bowlders and blocks as +large as cottages. These had not looked to be much, either, from below. + +On the edge of them we halted, to look down and behind again. Now we +were much higher. The ledge was small and far, and the timber was small +and farther, and the world was beginning to lie flat like a map. On the +level with us were only a few other peaks, in the snowy Medicine Range. +The pass itself was so low that we could scarcely make it out. + +To cross that bowlder moraine was a terrific job. We climbed and +sprawled, and were now up, now down. It was a go-as-you-please. +Everywhere among the bowlders were whistling rock-rabbits, or conies. +They were about the size of small guinea-pigs, and had short tails and +round, flat bat ears plastered close to their heads. They had their +mouths crammed full of dried grass, which they carried into their nests +through crannies--putting away hay for the winter! It was mighty +cheerful to have them so busy and greeting us, away up in these lonely +heights, and Fitz got some more good animal pictures. + +Apache was in great distress. He couldn't navigate those bowlders. We +could hear him "hee-hawing" on the lower edge, and could see him staring +after us and racing frantically back and forth. But we must go on; we +would pick him up on our way down. + +Well, we got over the bowlder field--Fitz as spryly as any of us. Having +only one good arm made no difference to him, and he never would accept +help. He was independent, and we only kept an eye on him and let him +alone. The bowlders petered out; and now ahead was another slope, with +more snow patches, and short dead grass in little bunches; and it ended +in a bare outcrop: the top! + +Our feet weighed twenty-five pounds each, our knees were wobbly, we +could hear each other pant, and my heart thumped so that the beats all +ran together. But with a cheer we toiled hard for the summit, before +resting. We didn't race--not at fourteen thousand feet; we weren't so +foolish--and I don't know who reached it first. Anyway, soon we all were +there. + +We had climbed old Pilot Peak! The top was flat and warm and dry, so we +could sit. The sky was close above; around about was nothing but the +clear air. East, west, north and south, below us, were hills and valleys +and timber and parks and streams, with the cloud-shadows drifting +across. We didn't say one word. The right words didn't exist, somehow, +and what was the use in exclaiming when we all felt alike, and could +look and see for ourselves? You don't seem to amount to much when you +are up, like this, on a mountain, near the sky, with the world spread +out below and not missing you; and a boy's voice, or a man's, is about +the size of a cricket's chirp. The silence is one of the best things you +find. So we sat and looked and thought. + +But on a sudden we did hear a noise--a rattling and "Hee-haw!" And here, +from a different side, came Apache again. He had got past those +bowlders, somehow. With another "Hee-haw!" he trotted right up on top, +in amidst us, where he stood, with a big sigh, looking around, too. + +This was the chance for us to map out the country ahead, on the other +side of the pass. So we took a good long survey. It was a rough country, +as bad as that which we had left; with much timber and many hills and +valleys. Down in some of the valleys were yellow patches, like hay +ranches, and forty or fifty miles away seemed to be a little haze of +smoke, which must be a town: Green Valley, where we were bound! Hurrah! +But we hadn't got there, yet. + +Major Henry made a rough sketch of the country, with Pilot Peak as base +point and a jagged, reddish tip, over toward the smoke, as another +landmark. Our course ought to be due west from Pilot, keeping to the +south of that reddish tip. + +We had a little lunch, and after cleaning up after ourselves we saluted +the old peak with the Scouts' cheer, saying good-by to it; and then we +started down. We discovered that we could go around the bowlder-field, +as Apache had done. When we struck the snow-patch slope we obliqued over +to our trail up, and began to back track. Back-tracking was the safe +way, because we knew that this would bring us out. Down we went, with +long steps, almost flying, and leaving behind us the busy conies and the +tame ptarmigans, to inhabit the peak until we should come again. We +even tried not to tramp on the flowers. (Note 57.) + +Through the maze of rock masses we threaded, and along the grassy ledge, +and entered the bush draw. By the sun it was noon, but we had plenty of +time, and we spread out in the draw, taking things easy and picking +berries. We didn't know but what we might come upon some grouse, in +here, too, for the trickle from that snow-bank drained through and there +was a bunch of aspens toward the bottom. But instead we came upon a +bear! + +I heard Red Fox Scout Ward call, sharp and excited: "Look out, fellows! +Here's another bear!" + +That stopped us short. + +"Where?" + +"Right in front of me! He's eating berries. And I see another, +too--sitting, looking at me." + +"Wait!" called back Fitz, excited. "Let 'em alone. I'll get a picture." + +That was just like Fitzpatrick. He wanted to take pictures of everything +alive. + +"Yes; let 'em alone," warned Major Henry, shouting. + +For that's all a bear in a berry-patch asks; to be let alone. He's +satisfied with the berries. In fact, all a bear asks, anyway, is to be +let alone, and up here on the mountain these bears weren't doing any +harm. + +"Where are you?" called Fitz. + +"On this rock." + +Now we could see Scout Ward, with hand up; and over hustled Fitz, and +over we all hustled, from different directions. + +They were not large bears. They looked like the little brown or black +bears, it was hard to tell which; but the small kind isn't dangerous. +They were across on the edge of a clearing, and were stripping the +bushes. Once in a while they would sit up and eye us, while slobbering +down the berries; then they would go to eating again. + +Fitz had his camera unslung and taken down. He walked right out, toward +them, and snapped, but it wouldn't be a very good picture. They were too +far to show up plainly. + +"I'll sneak around behind and drive them out," volunteered little Jed +Smith; and without waiting for orders he and Kit started, and we all +except Fitz spread out to help in the surround. Fitz made ready to take +them on the run. Nobody is afraid of the little brown or black bear. + +Jed and Kit were just entering the bushes to make the circuit on their +side, when we heard Apache snorting and galloping, and a roar and a +"Whoof!" and out from the brush over there burst the burro, with another +bear chasing him. This was no little bear. It was a great big bear--an +old she cinnamon, and these others weren't the small brown or black +bears, either: they were half-grown cinnamon cubs! + +How she came! Kit Carson and Jed Smith were right in her path. + +"Look out!" we yelled. + +Kit and little Jed leaped to dodge. She struck like a cat as she passed, +and head over heels went poor little Jed, sprawling in the brush, and +she passed on, straight to her cubs. They met her, and she smelled them +for a moment. She lifted her broad, short head, and snarled. + +"Don't do a thing," ordered Major Henry. "She'll leave." + +So we stood stock-still. That was all we _could_ do. We knew that poor +little Jed was lying perhaps badly wounded, off there in the brush, but +it wouldn't help to call the old bear's attention to him again. In the +open place Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand stood; he was right in front of the +old bear, and he was _taking pictures_! + +The old bear saw him, and he and the camera seemed to make her mad. +Maybe she took it for a weapon. She lowered her head, swung it to and +fro, her bristles rose still higher, and across the open space she +started. + +"Fitz!" we shrieked. And I said to myself, sort of crying: "Oh, jiminy!" + +We all set up a tremendous yell, but that didn't turn her. Major Henry +jumped forward, and tugged to pull loose a stone. I looked for a stone +to throw. Of course I couldn't find one. Then out of the corner of my +eye, while I was watching Fitz, too, I glimpsed Red Fox Scout Van Sant +coming running, and shooting with his twenty-two. The bullets spatted +into the bear's hide, and stung her. + +"Run, Fitz!" called Van Sant. "I'll stop her." + +But he didn't, yet. Hardly! That Fitz had just been winding his film. He +took the camera from between his knees, where he had held it while he +used his one hand, and he leveled it like lightning, on the old +bear--and took her picture again. That picture won a prize, after we got +back to civilization. But the old bear kept coming. + +We all were shouting, in vain,--shouting all kinds of things. Red Fox +Scout Van Sant sprang to Fitz's side, and again we heard him say: "Run, +Fitz! Over here. Make for the rock. I'll stop her." + +It was the outcrop where Ward had been. Fitz jumped to make for it. He +hugged his camera as he ran. We thought that Van Sant would make for it, +too. But he let Fitz pass him, and he stood. The old bear was coming, +crazy. She only halted to scratch where a twenty-two pellet had stung +her hide. Van Sant waited, steady as a rock. He lifted his little rifle +slowly and held on her, and just as she was about to reach him he +fired. + +"Crack!" + +Headfirst she plunged. She kicked and ripped the ground, and didn't get +up again. She lay still, amidst a silence, we all watching, breathless. +Beyond, Fitzpatrick had closed his precious camera as he ran, and now at +the rock had turned. + +"Shoot her again, Van!" begged Scout Ward. + +"I can't," he answered. "That was my last cartridge. But she's dead. I +hit her in the eye." And he lowered his rifle. + +Then we gave a great cheer, and rushed for the spot--except Major Henry; +he was the first to think and he rushed to see to little Jed Smith. +Fitzpatrick shook hands hard with Red Fox Scout Van Sant and followed +the major. + +Yes, the old bear was stone dead. Van Sant had shot her through the eye, +into the brain. That was enough. Ward and I shook hands with him, too. +He had shown true Scouts' nerve, to sail in in that way, and to meet the +danger and to be steady under fire. + +"Oh, well, I was the only one who could do anything," he explained. "I +knew it was my last cartridge and I had to make it count. That's all." + +Then we hurried down to where the Major and Fitz and Kit Carson were +gathered about little Jed. Jed wasn't dead. No; we could see him move. +And Fitz called: "He's all right. But his shoulder's out and his leg is +torn." + +Little Jed was pale but game. His right arm hung dangling and useless, +and his right calf was bloody. The whole arm hung dangling because the +shoulder was hurt; but it was not a fractured collarbone, for when we +had laid open Jed's shirt we could feel and see. The shoulder was out of +shape, and commencing to swell, and the arm hung lower than the well +arm. (Note 58.) + +We let the wound of the calf go, for we must get at this dislocation, +before the shoulder was too sore and rigid. We knew what to do. Jed was +stretched on his back, Red Fox Scout Ward sat at his head, steadying him +around the body, and with his stockinged heel under Jed's armpit Major +Henry pulled down on the arm and shoved up against it with his heel at +the same time. That hurt. Jed turned very white, and let out a big +grunt--but we heard a fine snap, and we knew that the head of the +arm-bone had chucked back into the shoulder-socket where it belonged. + +So that was over; and we were glad,--Jed especially. We bound his arm +with a handkerchief sling across to the other shoulder, to keep the +joint in place for a while, and we went at his leg. + +The old bear's paw had cuffed him on the shoulder and then must have +slipped down and landed on his calf as he sprawled. The boot-top had +been ripped open and the claws had cut through into the flesh, tearing a +set of furrows. It was a bad-looking wound and was bleeding like +everything. But the blood was just the ordinary oozy kind, and so we let +it come, to clean the wound well. Then we laid some sterilized gauze +from our first-aid outfit upon it, to help clot the blood, and sifted +borax over, and bound it tight with adhesive plaster, holding the edges +of the furrows together. Over that we bound on loosely a dry pack of +other gauze. + +We left Jed (who was pale but thankful) with Red Fox Scout Ward and went +up to the bear. Kit Carson wanted to see her. She was still dead, and +off on the edge of the brush her two cubs were sniffing in her +direction, wondering and trying to find out. + +Yes, that had been a nervy stand made by Scout Van Sant, and a good +shot. Fitzpatrick reached across and shook his hand again. + +"I don't know whether I stopped to thank you, but it's worth doing +twice. I'm much obliged." + +"Don't mention it," laughed Van Sant. + +Then we all laughed. That was better. There isn't much that can be said, +when you feel a whole lot. But you _know_, just the same. And we all +were Scouts. + +Somehow, the big limp body of the old mother bear now made us sober. We +hadn't intended to kill her, and of course she was only protecting her +cubs. It wasn't our mountain; and it wasn't our berry-patch. She had +discovered it first. We had intruded on her, not she on us. It all was +a misunderstanding. + +So we didn't gloat over her, or kick her, or sit upon her, now that she +could not defend herself. But we must do some quick thinking. + +"Kit Carson, you and Bridger catch Apache," ordered Major Henry. "Fitz +and I will help Scout Van Sant skin his bear." + +"She's not my bear," said Scout Van Sant. "I won't take her. She belongs +to all of us." + +"Well," continued Major Henry, "it's a pity just to let her lie and to +waste her. We can use the meat." + +"The pelt's no good, is it?" asked Fitz. + +"Not much, in the summer. But we'll take it off, and put the meat in it, +to carry." + +They set to work. Kit Carson and I started after the burro. He had run +off, up the mountain again, and we couldn't catch him. He was too +nervous. We'd get close to him, and with a snort and a toss of his ears +he would jump away and fool us. That was very aggravating. + +"If we only had a rope we could rope him," said Kit. But we didn't. +There was no profit in chasing a burro all over a mountain, and so, hot +and tired, we went back and reported. + +The old bear had been skinned and butchered, after a fashion. The head +was left on the hide, for the brains. At first Major Henry talked of +sending down to camp for a blanket and making a litter out of it. We +would have hard work to carry Jed in our arms. But Jed was weak and sick +and didn't want to wait for the blanket. Apache would have been a big +help, only he was so foolish. But we had a scheme. Scouts always manage. +(Note 59.) + +We made a litter of the bear-pelt! Down we scurried to the aspens and +found two dead sticks. We stuck one through holes in the pelt's fore +legs, and one through holes in the pelt's hind legs, and tied the legs +about with cord. We set little Jed in the hair side, facing the bear's +head, turned back over; the Major, the two Red Fox Scouts, and Kit +Carson took each an end of the sticks; Fitzpatrick and I carried the +meat, stuck on sticks, over our shoulders; and in a procession like +cave-men or trappers returning from a hunt we descended the mountain, +leaving death and blood where we had intended to leave only peace as we +had found it. + +Apache made a big circuit to follow us. The two cubs sneaked forward, to +sniff at the bones where their mother had been cut up--and began to eat +her. We were glad to know that they did not feel badly yet, and that +they were old enough to take care of themselves. + +But as we stumbled and tugged, carrying wounded Jed down the draw, we +knew plainly that we ought to have let that mountain alone. + +[Illustration: "LIKE CAVE-MEN OR TRAPPERS RETURNING FROM A HUNT WE +DESCENDED."] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +FITZ THE BAD HAND'S GOOD THROW + + +That green bear-pelt and Jed together were almost too heavy, so that we +went slow and careful and stopped often, to rest us. The sun was setting +when at last we got down to camp again--and we arrived, a very different +party from that which had gone out twelve hours before. It was a sorry +home-coming. But we must not lament or complain over what was our own +fault. We must do our best to turn it to account. We must be Scouts. + +We made Jed comfortable on a blanket bed. His leg we let alone, as the +bandage seemed to be all right. And his shoulder we of course let alone. +Then we took stock. Major Henry decided very quickly. + +"Jed can't travel. He will have to stay here till his wounds heal more, +and Kit Carson will have to stay with him. I'd stay, instead, because +I'm to blame for wasting some men and some time; but the general passed +the command on to me and I ought to go as far as I possibly can. We'll +fix Kit and Jed the best we're able, and to-morrow we'll hustle on and +make night marches, if we need to." + +This was sense. Anyway, although we had wasted men and time, we were now +stocked up with provisions; all that bear meat! While Fitzpatrick and +Red Fox Scout Ward were cooking supper and poor Jed looked on, two of us +went at the meat to cut it into strips for jerking, and two of us +stretched the pelt to grain it before it dried. + +We cut the meat into the strips and piled them until we could string +them to smoke and dry them. We then washed for supper, because we were +pretty bloody with the work of cutting. After supper, by moonlight, we +strung the strips with a sailor's needle and cord which the Red Fox +Scouts had in their kit, and erected a scaffolding of four fork-sticks +with two other sticks laid across at the ends. We stretched the strings +of meat in lines, back and forth. Next thing was to make a smudge under +and to lay a tarp over to hold the smudge while the meat should smoke. +(Note 60.) + +Pine smoke is no good, because it is so strong. Alder makes a fine sweet +smoke, but we didn't have any alder, up here. We used aspen, as the next +best thing at hand. And by the time we had the pelt grained and the meat +strung and had toted enough aspen, we were tired. + +But somebody must stay awake, to tend to Jed and give him a drink and +keep him company, and to watch the smudge, that it didn't flame up too +fierce and that it didn't go out. By smoking and drying the meat all +night and by drying it in the sun afterward, Major Henry thought that it +would be ready so that we could take our share along with us. + +If we had that, then we would not need to stop to hunt, and we could +make short camps, as we pleased. You see, we had only four days in which +to deliver the message; and we had just reached the pass! + +This was a kind of miserable night. Jed of course had a bed to himself, +which used up blankets. The others of us stood watch an hour and a half +each, over him and over the smudge. He was awful restless, because his +leg hurt like sixty, and none of us slept very well, after the +excitement. I was sleepiest when the time came for us to get up. + +We had breakfast, of bear steak and bread or biscuits and gravy. The +meat we were jerking seemed to have been smoked splendidly. The tarp was +smoked, anyhow. We took it off and aired it, and left the strips as they +were, to dry some more in the sun. They were dark, and quite stiff and +hard, and by noon they were brittle as old leather. The hide was dry, +too, and ready for working over with brains and water, and for smoking. +(Note 61.) + +But we left that to Kit. Now we must take the trail again. We spent the +morning fussing, and making the cabin tight for Jed and Kit; at last +the meat had been jerked so that our share would keep, and we had done +all that we could, and we were in shape to carry the message on over the +pass and down to Green Valley. + +"All right," spoke Major Henry, after dinner. "Let's be off. Scout +Carson, we leave Scout Smith in your charge. You and he stay right here +until he's able to travel. Then you can follow over the pass and hit +Green Valley, or you can back-track for the Ranger's cabin and for home. +Apache will come in soon and you'll have him to pack out with. You'll be +entitled to just as much honor by bringing Jed out safe as we will by +carrying the message. Isn't that so, boys?" + +"Sure," we said. + +But naturally Kit hated to stay behind. Only, somebody must; it was +Scouts' duty. We all shook hands with him and with wounded Jed (who +hated staying, too), and said "Adios," and started off. + +Apache had not appeared, and we were to pack our own outfit. We left Jed +and Kit enough meat and all the flour (which wasn't much) and what other +stuff we could spare (they had the bearskin to use for bedding as soon +as it was tanned) and one rope and our twenty-two rifle, and the +Ranger's fry-pan and two cups, and we divided among us what we could +carry. + +"Now we've got three days and a half to get through in," announced Major +Henry. We counted the days on the trail to make sure. Yes, three days +and a half. "And besides, these Red Fox Scouts must catch a train in +time to make connections for that Yellowstone trip. We've put in too +much time, and I think we ought to travel by night as well as by day, +for a while." + +"Short sleeps and long marches; that's my vote," said Fitz. + +"Don't do it on our account," put in the Red Fox Scouts. "But we're +game. We'll travel as fast as you want to." + +So we decided. And now only three Elk Scouts, instead of six, and two +Red Fox Scouts, again we took the long trail. In the Ranger's cabin +behind was our gallant leader General Ashley, and in this other cabin by +the lake were Jed Smith and Kit Carson. Thus our ranks were being +thinned. + +We followed the trail from the lake and struck the old Indian trail +again, leading over the pass. About the middle of the afternoon we were +at the pass itself. It was wide and smooth and open and covered with +gravel and short grass and little low flowers like daisies. On either +side were brownish red jagged peaks and rimrock faces, specked with +snow. The wind blew strong and cold. There were many sheep-tracks, where +bands had been trailed over, for the low country or for the summer +range. It was a wild, desolate region, with nothing moving except +ourselves and a big hawk high above; but we pressed on fast, in close +order, our packs on our backs, Major Henry leading. And we were lonesome +without Kit and Jed. + +Old Pilot Peak gradually sank behind us; the country before began to +spread out into timber and meadow and valley. Pretty soon we caught up +with a little stream. It flowed in the same direction that we were +going, and we knew that we were across the pass and that we were on the +other side of the Medicine Range, at last! Hurrah! + +We were stepping long, down-hill. We came to dwarf cedars, and buck +brush, showing that we were getting lower. And at a sudden halt by the +major, in a nice golden twilight we threw off our packs and halted for +supper beside the stream, among some aspens--the first ones. + +About an hour after sunset the moon rose, opposite--a big round moon, +lighting everything so that travel would be easy. We had stocked up on +the jerked bear-meat, roasted on sharp sticks, and on coffee from the +cubes that the Red Fox Scouts carried, and we were ready. The jerked +bear-meat was fine and made us feel strong. So now Major Henry stood, +and swung his pack; and we all stood. + +"Let's hike," he said. + +That was a beautiful march. The air was crisp and quiet, the moon +mounted higher, flooding the country with silver. Once in a while a +coyote barked. The rabbits all were out, hopping in the shine and +shadow. We saw a snowshoe kind, with its big hairy feet. We saw several +porcupines, and an owl as large as a buzzard. This was a different world +from that of day, and it seemed to us that people miss a lot of things +by sleeping. + +Our course was due west, by the North Star. We were down off the pass, +and had struck a valley, with meadow and scattered pines, and a stream +rippling through, and the moonlight lying white and still. In about +three hours we came upon sign of another camp, where somebody had +stopped and had made a fire and had eaten. There were burro tracks here, +so that it might have been a prospectors' camp; and there was an empty +tin can like a large coffee can. + +"I think we had better rest again," said Major Henry. "We can have a +snack and a short sleep." + +We didn't cook any meat. We weren't going to take out any of the Red Fox +dishes, but Fitz started to fill the tin can with water, to make soup in +that. It was Red Fox Scout Ward who warned us. + +"Here," he objected. "Do you think we ought to do that? You know +sometimes a tin can gives off poison when you cook in it." + +"And we don't know what was in this can," added Van Sant. "We don't want +to get ptomaine poisoning. I'd rather unpack ten packs than run any +risk." + +That was sense. The can _looked_ clean, inside, and the idea of being +made sick by it hadn't occurred to us Elks. But we remembered, now, some +things that we'd read. So we kicked the can to one side, that nobody +else should use it, and Fitz made the soup in a regulation dish from the +Red Fox aluminum kit. (Note 62.) + +We drank the soup and each chewed a slice of the bear-meat cold. It was +sweet and good, and the soup helped out. Then we rolled in our blankets +and went to sleep. We all had it on our minds to wake in four hours, and +the mind is a regular clock if you train it. + +I woke just about right, according to the stars. The two stars in the +bottom of the Little Dipper, that we used for an hour hand, had been +exactly above a pointed spruce, when I had dozed off, and now when I +looked they had moved about three feet around the Pole Star. While I lay +blinking and warm and comfortable, and not thinking of anything in +particular, I heard a crackle of sticks and the scratch of a match. And +there squatting on the edge of a shadow was somebody already up and +making a fire. + +"Is that you, Fitz?" asked Major Henry. + +"Yes. You fellows lie still a few seconds longer and I'll have some tea +for you." + +Good old Fitz! He need not have done that. He had not been ordered to. +But it was a thoughtful Scout act--and was a Fitz act, to boot. + +Scouts Ward and Van Sant were awake now; and we all lay watching Fitz, +and waiting, as he had asked us to. Then when we saw him put in the +tea-- + +"Levez!" spoke Major Henry; which is the old trapper custom. "Levez! Get +up!" (Note 63.) + +Up we sprang, into the cold, and with our blankets about our shoulders, +Indian fashion, we each drank a good swig of hot tea. Then we washed our +faces, and packed our blankets, and took the trail. + +It was about three in the morning. The moon was halfway down the west, +and the air was chill and had that peculiar feel of just before morning. +Everything was ghostly, as we slipped along, but a few birds were +twittering sleepily. Once a coyote crossed our path--stopped to look +back at us, and trotted away again. + +Gradually the east began to pale; there were fewer stars along that +horizon than along the horizon where the moon was setting. The burro +tracks were plain before us, in the trail that led down the valley. The +trail inclined off to the left, or to the south of west; but we +concluded to follow it because we could make better time and we believed +that the railroad lay in that direction. The Red Fox Scouts ought to be +taken as near to the railroad as possible, before we left them. They had +been mighty good to us. + +The moon sank, soon the sun would be up; the birds were moving as well +as chirping, the east was brightening, and already the tip of Pilot +Peak, far away behind us with Kit and Jed sleeping at his base, was +touched with pink, when we came upon a camp. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant, who was leading, suddenly stopped short and +lifted his hand in warning. Before, in a bend of the stream that we were +skirting, among the pines and spruces beside it was a lean-to, with a +blackened fire, and two figures rolled in blankets; and back from the +stream a little way, across in an open grassy spot, was a burro. It had +been grazing, but now it was eying us with head and ears up. Red Fox +Scout Van had sighted the burro first and next, of course, the lean-to +camp. + +We stood stock-still, surveying. + +"Cache!" whispered Major Henry (which means "Hide"); and we stepped +softly aside into the brush. For that burro looked very much like Sally, +who had been taken from us by the two recruits when they had stolen +Apache also--and by the way that the figures were lying, under a +lean-to, they might be the renegade recruits themselves. It was a +hostile camp! + +"What is it?" whispered Red Fox Scout Ward, his eyes sparkling. "Enemy?" + +"I think so," murmured Major Henry. + +"We can pass." + +"Sure. But if that's our burro we ought to take her." And the major +explained. + +The Red Foxes nodded. + +"But if she isn't, then we don't want her. One of us ought to +reconnoiter." And the major hesitated. "Fitz, you go," he said. And this +rather surprised me, because naturally the major ought to have gone +himself, he being the leader. "I've got a side-ache, somehow," he added, +apologizing. "It isn't much--but it might interfere with my crawling." + +Fitz was only too ready to do the stalking. He left his pack, and with a +détour began sneaking upon the lean-to. We watched, breathless. But the +figures never stirred. Fitz came out, opposite, and from bush to bush +and tree to tree he crept nearer and nearer, with little darts from +cover to cover; and at last very cautiously, on his hands and knees; and +finally wriggling on his belly like a snake. + +'Twas fine stalking, and we were glad that the Red Fox Scouts were here +to see. But it seemed to us that Fitz was getting too near. However, the +figures did not move, and did not know--and now Fitz was almost upon +them. From behind a tree only a yard away from them he stretched his +neck and peered, for half a minute. Then he crawled backward, and +disappeared. Presently he was with us again. + +"It's they, sir," he reported. "Bat and Walt. They're asleep. And that +is Sally, I'm certain. I know her by the white spot on her back." + +"We must have her," said the major. "She's ours. We'll get her and pack +her, so we can travel better." + +"Can we catch her, all right?" queried Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "We're +liable to wake those two fellows up, aren't we?" + +"What if we do?" put in his partner, Scout Ward. "Three of us can guard +them, and the other two can chase the burro." + +"No," said Major Henry. "I think we can rope her and be off before those +renegades know anything about it. Can you, Fitz?" + +Fitz nodded, eager. + +"Then take the rope, and go after her." + +Fitz did. He was a boss roper, too. You wouldn't believe it, of a +one-armed boy, but it was so. All we Elk Scouts could throw a rope some. +A rope comes in pretty handy, at times. Most range horses have to be +caught in the corral with a rope, and knowing how to throw a rope will +pull a man out of a stream or out of a hole and will perhaps save his +life. But Fitz was our prize roper, because he had practiced harder than +any of us, to make up for having only one arm. + +The way he did was to carry the coil on his stump, and the lash end in +his teeth; and when he had cast, quick as lightning he took the end +from between his teeth ready to haul on it. + +Major Henry might have gone, himself, to get the credit and to show what +he could do; but he showed his sense by resigning in favor of Fitz. + +So now at the command Fitz took the rope from him and shook it out and +re-coiled it nicely. Then, carrying it, he sneaked through the trees, +and crossed the creek, farther up, wading to his ankles, and advanced +upon Sally. + +Sally divided her attention between him and us, and finally pricked her +ears at him alone. She knew what was being tried. + +Coming out into the open space Fitz advanced slower and slower, step by +step. He had his rope ready--the coil was on his stump, and the lash end +was in his teeth, and the noose trailed by his side, from his good hand. +We glanced from him and Sally to the lean-to, and back again, for the +campers were sleeping peacefully. If only they would not wake and spoil +matters. + +Sally held her head high, suspicious and interested. Fitz did not dare +to speak to her; he must trust that she would give him a chance at her +before she escaped into the trees where roping would be a great deal +harder. + +We watched. My heart beat so that it hurt. Having that burro meant a lot +to us, for those packs were heavy--and it was a point of honor, too, +that we recapture our own. Here was our chance. + +Fitz continued to trail his noose. He didn't swing it. Sally watched +him, and we watched them both. He was almost close enough, was Fitz, to +throw. A few steps more, and something would happen. But Sally concluded +not to wait. She tossed her head, and with a snort turned to trot away. +And suddenly Fitz, in a little run and a jerk, threw with all his might. + +Straight and swift the noose sailed out, opening into an "O," and +dragging the rope like a tail behind it. Fitz had grabbed the lash end +from between his teeth, and was running forward, to make the cast cover +more ground. It was a beautiful noose and well aimed. Before it landed +we saw that it was going to land right. Just as it fell Sally trotted +square into it, and it dropped over her head. She stopped short and +cringed, but she was too late. Fitz had sprung back and had hauled hard. +It drew tight about her neck, and she was caught. She knew it, and she +stood still, with an inquiring gaze around. She knew better than to run +on the rope and risk being thrown or choked. Hurrah! We would have +cheered--but we didn't dare. We only shook hands all round and grinned; +and in a minute came Fitz, leading her to us. She was meek enough, but +she didn't seem particularly glad to see us. We patted Fitz on the back +and let him know that we appreciated him. + +He had only the one throw, but that had been enough. It was like Van's +last cartridge. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MAJOR HENRY SAYS "OUCH" + + +The sun was just peeping above the Medicine Range that we had crossed, +when we led Sally away, back through the brush and around to strike the +trail beyond the lean-to camp. After we had gone about half a mile Major +Henry posted me as a rear-guard sentry, to watch the trail, and he and +the other Scouts continued on until it was safe to stop and pack the +burro. + +The two renegade recruits did not appear. Probably they were still +sleeping, with the blankets over their faces to keep out the light! In +about half an hour I was signaled to come on, and when I joined the +party Sally had been packed with the squaw hitch and now we could travel +light again. I tell you, it was a big relief to get those loads +transferred to Sally. Even the Red Foxes were glad to be rid of theirs. + +Things looked bright. We were over the range; we had this stroke of +luck, in running right upon Sally; the trail was fair; and the way +seemed open. It wouldn't be many hours now before the Red Fox Scouts +could branch off for the railroad, and get aboard a train so as to make +Salt Lake in time to connect with their party for the grand trip, and we +Elks had three days yet in which to deliver the message to the Mayor of +Green Valley. + +For two or three hours we traveled as fast as we could, driving Sally +and stepping on her tracks so as to cover them. We felt so good over our +prospects--over being upon the open way and winning out at last--that we +struck up songs: + + "Oh, the Elk is our Medicine; + He makes us very strong--" + +for us; and: + + "Oh, the Red fox is our Medicine--" + +for the Red Fox Scouts. + +And we sang: + + "It's honor Flag and Country dear, + and hold them in the van; + It's keep your lungs and conscience clean, + your body spick and span; + It's 'shoulders squared,' and 'be prepared,' + and always 'play the man': + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er! + Hurrah! Hurrah! For we're the B. S. A.! + Hurrah! Hurrah! We're ready, night and day! + You'll find us in the city street and on the open way! + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!" + +But at the beginning of the second verse Major Henry suddenly quit and +sat down upon a log, where the trail wound through some timber. "I've +got to stop a minute, boys," he gasped. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with +you." + +But of course we didn't. His face was white and wet, his lips were +pressed tight as he breathed hard through his nose, and he doubled +forward. + +"What's the matter?" + +"I seem to have a regular dickens of a stomach-ache," he grunted. +"Almost makes me sick." + +That was serious, when Major Henry gave in this way. We remembered that +back on the trail when we had sighted Sally he had spoken of a +"side-ache" and had sent Fitzpatrick to do the reconnoitering; but he +had not spoken of it again and here we had been traveling fast with +never a whimper from him. We had supposed that his side-ache was done. +Instead, it had been getting worse. + +"Maybe you'd better lie flat," suggested Red Fox Scout Ward. "Or try +lying on your side." + +"I'll be all right in a minute," insisted the major. + +"We can all move off the trail, and have breakfast," proposed Fitz. +"That will give him a chance to rest. We ought to have something to eat, +anyway." + +So we moved back from the trail, around a bend of the creek. The major +could scarcely walk, he was so doubled over with cramps; Scout Ward and +I stayed by to help him. But there was not much that we could do, in +such a case. He leaned on us some, and that was all. + +He tried lying on his side, while we unpacked Sally; and then we got him +upon a blanket, with a roll for a pillow. Red Fox Scout Van Sant hustled +to the creek with a cup, and fixed up a dose. + +"Here," he said to the major, "swallow this." + +"What is it?" + +"Ginger. It ought to fix you out." + +So it ought. The major swallowed it--and it was so hot it made the tears +come into his eyes. In a moment he thought that he did feel better, and +we were glad. We went ahead with breakfast, but he didn't eat anything, +which was wise. A crampy stomach won't digest food and then you are +worse. + +We didn't hurry him, after breakfast. We knew that as soon as he could +travel, he would. But we found that his feeling better wasn't lasting. +Now that the burning of the ginger had worn off, he was as bad as ever. +We were mighty sorry for him, as he turned and twisted, trying to find +an easier position. A stomach-ache like that must have been is surely +hard to stand. + +Fitz got busy. Fitzpatrick is pretty good at doctoring. He wants to be a +doctor, some day. And the Red Fox Scouts knew considerable about +first-aids and simple Scouts' remedies. + +"What kind of an ache is it, Tom?" queried Fitz. We were too bothered to +call him "Major." "Sharp? Or steady?" + +"It's a throbby ache. Keeps right at the job, though," grunted the +major. + +"Where?" + +"Here." And the major pointed to the pit of his stomach, below the +breast-bone. "It's a funny ache, too. I can't seem to strike any +position that it likes." + +"It isn't sour and burning, is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward. + +"Uh uh. It's a green-apple ache, or as if I'd swallowed a corner of a +brick." + +We had to laugh. Still, that ache wasn't any laughing matter. + +"Do you feel sick?" + +"Just from the pain." + +"We all ate the same, and we didn't drink out of that tin can, so it +can't be poison, and it doesn't sound like just indigestion," mused Fitz +to us. "Maybe we ought to give him an emetic. Shall we, Tom?" + +"I don't think I need any emetic. There's nothing there," groaned the +major. "Maybe I've caught cold. I guess the cramps will quit. Wish I had +a hot-water bag or a hot brick." + +"We'll heat water and lay a hot compress on. That will help," spoke Red +Fox Scout Van Sant. "Ought to have thought of it before." + +"Wait a minute, boys," bade Fitz. "Lie still as long as you can, Tom, +while I feel you." + +He unbuttoned the major's shirt (the major had taken off his belt and +loosened his waist-band, already) and began to explore about with his +fingers. + +"The ache's up here," explained the major. "Up in the middle of my +stomach." + +"But is it sore anywhere else?" asked Fitz, pressing about. "Say ouch." + +The major said ouch. + +"Sore right under there?" queried Fitz. + +The major nodded. + +We noted where Fitz was pressing with his fingers--and suddenly it +flashed across me what he was finding out. The _ache_ was in the pit of +the stomach, but the _sore spot_ was lower and down toward the right +hip. + +Fitz experimented here and there, not pressing very hard; and he always +could make the major say ouch, for the one spot. + +"I believe he's got appendicitis," announced Fitz, gazing up at us. + +"It looks that way, sure," agreed Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "My brother +had appendicitis, and that's how they went to work on him." + +"My father had it, is how I knew about it," explained Fitz. + +"Aw, thunder!" grunted the major. "It's just a stomach-ache." He hated +to be fussed with. "I'll get over it. A hot-water bag is all I need." + +"No, you don't," spoke Fitz, quickly--as Red Fox Scout Ward was stirring +the fire. "Hot water would be dangerous, and if it's appendicitis we +shan't take any risks. They use an ice-pack in appendicitis. We'll put +on cold water instead of hot, and I'm going to give him a good stiff +dose of Epsom salts. I'm afraid to give him anything else." + +That sounded like sense, except that the cold water instead of the hot +was something new. And it was queer that if the major's appendix was +what caused the trouble the ache should be off in the middle of his +stomach. But Fitz was certain that he was right, and so we went ahead. +The treatment wasn't the kind to do any harm, even if we were wrong in +the theory. The Epsom salts would clean out most disturbances, and help +reduce any inflammation. (Note 64.) + +The major was suffering badly. To help relieve him, we discussed which +was worse, tooth-ache or stomach-ache. The Red Foxes took the tooth-ache +side and we Elks the stomach-ache side; and we won, because the major +put in his grunts for the stomach-ache. We piled a wet pack of +handkerchiefs and gauze on his stomach, over the right lower angle, +where the appendix ought to be; and we changed it before it got warmed. +The water from the creek was icy cold. We kept at it, and after a while +the major was feeling much better. + +And now he began to chafe because he was delaying the march. It was +almost noon. The two renegade recruits had not come along yet. They +might not come at all; they might be looking around for Sally, without +sense enough to read the sign. But the major was anxious to be pushing +on again. + +"I don't think you ought to," objected Fitz. + +"But I'm all right." + +"You may not be, if you stir around much," said Red Fox Scout Ward. + +"What do you want me to do? Lie here for the rest of my life?" The major +was cross. + +"No; but you ought to be carried some place where you can have a doctor, +if it's appendicitis." + +"I don't believe it is. It's just a sort of colic. I'm all right now, if +we go slowly." + +"But don't you think that we'd better find some place where we can take +you?" asked Fitz. + +"You fellows leave me, then, and go on. Somebody will come along, or +I'll follow slow. Those Red Foxes must get to their train, and you two +Elks must carry the message through on time." + +"Not much!" exclaimed both the Red Foxes, indignant. "What kind of +Scouts do you think we are? You'll need more than two men, if there's +much carrying to be done. We stick." + +"So do we," chimed in Fitz and I. "We'll get the message through, and +get you through, too." + +The major flushed and stood up. + +"If that's the way you talk," he snapped (he was the black-eyed, quick +kind, you know), "then I order that this march be resumed. Pack the +burro. I order it." + +"You'd better ride." + +"I'll walk." + +Well, he was our leader. We should obey, as long as he seemed capable. +He was awfully stubborn, the major was, when he had his back up. But we +exchanged glances, and we must all have thought the same: that if he was +taken seriously again soon, and was laid out, we would try to persuade +him to let us manage for him. Fitz only said quietly: + +"But if you have to quit, you'll quit, won't you, Tom? You won't keep +going, just to spite yourself. Real appendicitis can't be fooled with." + +"I'll quit," he answered. + +We packed Sally again, and started on. The major seemed to want to hike +at the regulation fast Scouts' pace, but we held him in the best that we +could. Anyway, after we had gone three or four miles, he was beginning +to pant and double over; his pain had come back. + +"I think I'll have to rest a minute," he said; and he sat down. "Go +ahead. I'll catch up. You'd better take the message, Fitz. Here." + +"No, sir," retorted Fitz. "If you think that we're going on and leave +you alone, sick, you're off your base. This is a serious matter, Tom. It +wouldn't be decent, and it wouldn't be Scout-like. The Red Foxes ought +to go--" + +"But we won't," they interrupted-- + +"--and we'll get you to some place where you can be attended to. Then +we'll take the message, if you can't. There's plenty of time." + +The major flushed and fidgeted, and fingered the package. + +"Maybe I can ride, then," he offered. "We can cache more stuff and I'll +ride Sally." He grunted and twisted as the pain cut him. He looked +ghastly. + +"He ought to lie quiet till we can take him some place and find a +doctor," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant, emphatically. "There must be a +ranch or a town around here." + +"We'll ask this man coming," said Fitz. + +The stream had met another, here, and so had the trail; and down the +left-hand trail was riding at a little cow-pony trot a horseman. He was +a cow-puncher. He wore leather chaps and spurs and calico shirt and +flapping-brimmed drab slouch hat. When he reached us he reined in and +halted. He was a middle-aged man, with freckles and sandy mustache. + +"Howdy?" he said. + +"Howdy?" we answered. + +"Ain't seen any Big W cattle, back along the trail, have you?" + +No, we hadn't--until suddenly I remembered. + +"We saw some about ten days ago, on the other side of the Divide." + +"Whereabouts?" + +"On a mesa, northwest across the ridge from Dixon Park." + +"Good eye," he grinned. "I heard some of our strays had got over into +that country, but I wasn't sure." + +We weren't here to talk cattle, though; and Fitz spoke up: + +"Where's the nearest ranch, or town?" + +"The nearest town is Shenandoah. That's on the railroad about eight +miles yonder. Follow the right-hand trail and you'll come out on a +wagon-road that takes you to it. But there's a ranch three miles up the +valley by this other trail. Sick man?" The cow-puncher had good eyes, +too. + +"Yes. We want a doctor." + +"Ain't any doctor at Shenandoah. That's nothing but a station and a +store and a couple of houses. I expect the nearest doctor is the one at +the mines." + +"Where's that?" + +"Fifteen miles into the hills, from the ranch." + +"How far is Green Valley?" asked the major, weakly. + +"Twenty-three or four miles, by this trail I come along. Same trail you +take to the ranch. No doctor now at Green Valley, though. The one they +had went back East." + +"Then you let the Red Fox Scouts take me to the station and put me on +the train for somewhere, and they can catch their own train; and you two +fellows go ahead to Green Valley," proposed the major to Fitz. + +"Ain't another train either way till to-morrow morning," said the +cow-puncher. "They meet at Shenandoah, usually--when they ain't late. If +you need a doctor, quickest way would be to make the ranch and ride to +the mines and get him. What's the matter?" + +"We don't know, for sure. Appendicitis, we think." + +"Wouldn't monkey with it," advised the cow-puncher. + +"Then the Red Foxes can hit for the railroad and Fitz and Jim and I'll +make the ranch," insisted the major. + +"We won't," spoke up Red Fox Scout Ward, flatly. + +"We'll go with you to the ranch. We'll see this thing through. The +railroad can wait." + +"Well," said the cow-puncher, "you can't miss it. So long, and good +luck." + +"So long," we answered. He rode on, and we looked at the major. + +"I suppose we ought to get you there as quick as we can," said Fitz, +slowly. "Do you want to ride, or try walking again, or shall we carry +you?" + +"I'm better now," declared our plucky corporal. He stood up. "I'll walk, +I guess. It isn't far." + +So we set out, cautiously. No, it wasn't far--but it seemed _mighty_ +far. The major would walk a couple of hundred yards, and then he must +rest. The pain doubled him right over. We took some of the stuff off +Sally, and lifted him on top, but he couldn't stand that, either, very +long. We tried a chair of our hands, but that didn't suit. + +"I'll skip ahead and see if I can bring back a wagon, from the ranch," +volunteered Red Fox Scout Van Sant; and away he ran. "You wait," he +called back, over his shoulder. + +We waited, and kept a cold pack on the major. + +In about an hour and a half Van came panting back. + +"There isn't any wagon," he gasped. "Nobody at the ranch except two +women. Men folks have gone and taken the wagon with them." + +That was hard. We skirmished about, and made a litter out of one of our +blankets and two pieces of driftwood that we fished from the creek; and +carrying the major, with Sally following, we struck the best pace that +we could down the trail. He was heavy, and we must stop often to rest +ourselves and him; and we changed the cold packs. + +At evening we toiled at last into the ranch yard. It had not been three +miles: it had been a good long four miles. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A FORTY-MILE RIDE + + +The ranch was only a small log shack, of two rooms, with corral and +sheds and hay-land around it; it wasn't much of a place, but we were +glad to get there. Smoke was rising from the stove-pipe chimney. As we +drew up, one of the women looked out of the kitchen door, and the other +stood in a shed with a milk-pail in her hand. The woman in the doorway +was the mother; the other was the daughter. They were regular ranch +women, hard workers and quick to be kind in an emergency. This was an +emergency, for Major Henry was about worn out. + +"Fetch him right in here," called the mother; and the daughter came +hurrying. + +We carried him into a sleeping room, and laid him upon the bed there. He +had been all grit, up till now; but he quit and let down and lay there +with eyes closed, panting. + +"What is it?" they asked anxiously. + +"He's sick. We think it's appendicitis." + +"Oh, goodness!" they exclaimed. "What can we give him?" + +"Nothing. Where can we get a doctor?" + +"The mines is the nearest place, if he's there. That's twenty miles." + +"But a man we met said it was fifteen." + +"You can't follow that trail. It's been washed out. You'll have to take +the other trail, around by the head of Cooper Creek." + +"Can we get a saddle-horse here?" + +"There are two in the corral; but I don't know as you can catch 'em. +They're used to being roped." + +"We'll rope them." + +The major groaned. He couldn't help it. + +"It's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "We'll have the doctor in a +jiffy." + +"Don't bother about me," gasped the major, without opening his eyes. "Go +on through." + +"You hush," we all retorted. "We'll do both: have you fixed up and get +through, too." + +The major fidgeted and complained weakly. + +"One of us had better be catching the horses, hadn't we?" suggested Red +Fox Scout Ward. "Van and I'll go for the doctor." + +"No, you won't," said I. "I'll go. Fitz ought to stay. I know trails +pretty well." + +"Then either Van or I'll go with you. Two would be better than one." + +"I'm going," declared Van Sant. "You stay here with Fitz, Hal." + +That was settled. We didn't delay to dispute over the matter. There was +work and duty for all. + +"You be learning the trail, then," directed Fitz. "I'll be catching the +horses." + +"You'll find a rope on one of the saddles in the shed," called the +daughter. + +Fitz made for it; that was quicker than unpacking Sally and getting our +own rope. Scout Ward went along to help. We tried to ease the major. + +"You should have something to eat," exclaimed the women. + +We said "no"; but they bustled about, hurrying up their own supper, +which was under way when we arrived. While they bustled they fired +questions at us; who we were, and where we had come from, and where we +were going, and all. + +The major seemed kind of light-headed. He groaned and wriggled and +mumbled. The message was on his mind, and the Red Fox Scouts, and the +fear that neither would get through in time. He kept trying to pass the +message on to us; so finally I took it. + +"All right. I've got it, major," I told him. "We'll carry it on. We can +make Green Valley easy, from here. We'll start as soon as we can. +To-morrow's Sunday, anyway. You go to sleep." + +That half-satisfied him. + +We found that we couldn't eat much. We drank some milk, and stuffed down +some bread and butter; and by that time Fitz and Scout Ward had the +horses led out. We heard the hoofs, and in came Ward, to tell us. + +"Horses are ready," he announced. + +Out we went. No time was to be lost. They even had saddled them--Fitz +working with his one hand! So all we must do was to climb on. The women +had told us the trail, and they had given us an old heavy coat apiece. +Nights are cold, in the mountains. + +"You know how, do you?" queried Fitz of me. + +"Yes." + +"That gray horse is the easiest," called one of the women, from the +door. + +"Let Jim take it, then," spoke Van. + +But I had got ahead of him by grabbing the bay. + +"Jim is used to riding," explained Fitz. + +"So am I," answered Van. + +"Not these saddles, Van," put in Ward. "They're different. The stirrups +of the gray are longer, a little. They'll fit you better than they'll +fit Jim." + +Van had to keep the gray. It didn't matter to me which horse I rode, and +it might to him from the East; so I was glad if the gray was the easier. + +We were ready. + +"We'll take care of Tom till you bring the doctor," said Fitz. + +"We'll bring him." + +"So long. Be Scouts." + +"So long." + +A quick grip of the hand from Fitz and Ward, and we were off, out of the +light from the opened door where stood the two women, watching, and into +the dimness of the light. Now for a forty-mile night ride, over a +strange trail--twenty miles to the mines and twenty miles back. We would +do our part and we knew that Fitz and Ward would do theirs in keeping +the major safe. + +That appeared a long ride. Twenty miles is a big stretch, at night, and +when you are so anxious. + +We were to follow on the main trail for half a mile until we came to a +bridge. But before crossing the bridge there was a gate on the right, +and a hay road through a field. After we had crossed the field we would +pass out by another gate, and would take a trail that led up on top of +the mesa. Then it was nineteen miles across the mesa, to the mines. The +mines would have a light. They were running night and day. + +We did not say much, at first. We went at fast walk and little trots, so +as not to wind the horses in the very beginning. We didn't dash away, +headlong, as you sometimes read about, or see in pictures. I knew +better. Scouts must understand how to treat a horse, as well as how to +treat themselves, on the march. + +This was a dark night, because it was cloudy. There were no stars, and +the moon had not come up yet. So we must trust to the horses to keep the +trail. By looking close we could barely see it, in spots. Of course, the +darkness was not a deep black darkness. Except in a storm, the night of +the open always is thinnish, so you can see after your eyes are used to +it. + +I had the lead. Up on the mesa we struck into a trot. A lope is easier +to ride, but the trot is the natural gait of a horse, and he can keep up +a trot longer than he can a lope. Horses prefer trotting to galloping. + +Trot, trot, trot, we went. + +"How you coming?" I asked, to encourage Van. + +"All right," he grunted. "These stirrups are too long, though. I can't +get any purchase." + +"Doesn't your instep touch, when you stand up in them?" + +"If I straighten out my legs. I'm riding on my toes. That's the way I +was taught. I like to have my knees crooked so I can grip with them. +Don't you, yours?" + +"Just to change off to, as a rest. But cowboys and other people who ride +all day stick their feet through the stirrup to the heel, and ride on +their instep. A crooked leg gives a fellow a cramp in the knee, after a +while. Out here we ride straight up and down, so we are almost standing +in the stirrups all the time. That's the cowboy way, and it's about the +cavalry way, too. Those men know." + +"How do you grip, then?" + +"With the thigh. Try it. But when you're trotting you'd better stand in +the stirrups and you can lean forward on the horn, for a rest." + +Van grunted. He was experimenting. + +"Should think it would make your back ache," he said. + +"What?" + +"To ride with such long stirrups." + +"Uh uh," I answered. "Not when you sit up and balance in the saddle and +hold your spine straight. It always makes my back ache to hunch over. We +Elk Scouts try to ride with heel and shoulders in line. We can ride all +day." + +"Humph!" grunted Van. "Let's lope." + +"All right." + +So we did lope, a little way. Then we walked another little way, and +then I pushed into the same old trot. That was hard on Van, but it was +what would cover the ground and get us through quickest to the doctor. +So we must keep at it. + +Sometimes I stood in the stirrups and leaned on the horn; sometimes I +sat square and "took it." + +We crossed the mesa, and first thing we knew, we were tilting down into a +gulch. The horses picked their way slowly; we let them. We didn't want +any tumbles or sprained legs. The bottom of the gulch held willows and +aspens and brush, and was dark, because shut in. We didn't trot. My old +horse just put his nose down close to the ground, and went along at an +amble, like a dog, smelling the trail. I let the lines hang and gave him +his head. Behind me followed Van and his gray. I could hear the gray +also sniffing. (Note 65.) + +"Will we get through?" called Van, anxiously. "Think we're still on the +trail?" + +"Sure," I answered. + +Just then my horse snorted, and raised his head and snorted more, and +stood stock-still, trembling. I could feel that his ears were pricked. +He acted as if he was seeing something, in the trail. + +"Gwan!" I said, digging him with my heels. + +"What's the matter?" called Van. + +His horse had stopped and was snorting. + +"Don't know." + +It was pitchy dark. I strained to see, but I couldn't. That is a creepy +thing, to have your horse act so, when you don't know why. Of course you +think bear and cougar. But we were not to be held up by any foolishness, +and I was not a bit afraid. + +"Gwan!" I ordered again. + +"Gwan!" repeated Van. + +I heard a crackling in the brush, and my horse proceeded, sidling and +snorting past the spot. Van's gray followed, acting the same way. It +might have been a bear; we never knew. + +On we went, winding through the black timber again. We were on the +trail, all right; for by looking at the tree-tops against the sky we +could just see them and could see that they were always opening out, +ahead. The trail on the ground was kind of reproduced on the sky. + +It was a long way, through that dark gulch. But nothing hurt us and we +kept going. + +The gulch widened; we rode through a park, and the horses turned sharply +and began to climb a hill--zigzagging back and forth. We couldn't see a +trail, and I got off and felt with my hands. + +A trail was there. + +We came out on top. Here it was lighter. The moon had risen, and some +light leaked through the clouds. + +"Do you think we're on the right trail, still?" asked Van, dubiously. +"They didn't say anything about this other hill." + +That was so. But they hadn't said anything about there being two trails, +either. They had said that when we struck the trail over the mesa, to +follow it to the mines. + +"It must be the right trail," I said, back. "All we can do is to keep +following it." + +Seemed to me that we had gone the twenty miles already. But of course we +hadn't. + +"Maybe we've branched off, on to another trail," persisted Van. "The +horses turned, you remember. Maybe we ought to go back and find out." + +"No, it's the right trail," I insisted, again. "There's only the one, +they said." + +We must stick to that thought. We had been told by persons who knew. If +once we began to fuss and not believe, and experiment, then we both +would get muddled and we might lose ourselves completely. I remembered +what old Jerry the prospector once had said: "When you're on a trail, +and you've been told that it goes somewhere, keep it till you get there. +Nobody can describe a trail by inches." + +We went on and on and on. It was down-hill and up-hill and across and +through; but we pegged along. Van was about discouraged; and it was a +horrible sensation, to suspect that after all we might have got upon a +wrong trail, and that we were not heading for the doctor but away from +him, while Fitz and Ward were doing their best to save Tom, thinking +that we would come back bringing the doctor. + +We didn't talk much. Van was dubious, and I was afraid to discuss with +him, or I might be discouraged, too. I put all my attention to making +time at fast walk and at trot, and in hoping. Jiminy, how I did hope. +Every minute or two I was thinking that I saw a light ahead--the light +of the mines. But when it did appear, it appeared all of a sudden, +around a shoulder: a light, and several lights, clustered, in a hollow +before! + +"There it is, Van!" I cried; and I was so glad that I choked up. + +"Is that the mines?" + +"Sure. Must be. Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" + +The sight changed everything. Now the night wasn't dark, the way hadn't +been so long after all, we weren't so tired, we had been silly to doubt +the trail; for we had arrived, and soon we would be talking with the +doctor. + +The trail wound and wound, and suddenly, again, it entered in among +sheds, and the dumps of mines. At the first light I stopped. The door +was partly open. It was the hoisting house of a mine, and the engineer +was looking out, to see who we were. + +"Is the doctor here?" I asked. + +"Guess so. Want him?" + +"Yes." + +"He has a room over the store. Somebody hurt? Where you from?" + +"Harden's ranch. Where is the store?" + +"I'll show you. Here." He led the way. "Somebody hurt over there?" + +"No. Sick." + +We halted beside a platform of a dim building, and the engineer pounded +on the door. + +"Oh, doc!" he called. + +And when that doctor answered, through the window above, and we knew +that it was he, and that we had him at last, I wanted to laugh and +shout. But now we must get him back to the major. + +"You're needed," explained the man. "Couple of kids." And he said to us: +"Go ahead and tell him. I'm due at the mine." And off he trudged. We +thanked him. + +"What's the trouble?" asked the doctor. + +"Appendicitis, we think. We're from the Harden ranch." + +"Great Scott!" we heard the doctor mutter. Then he said. "All right, +I'll be down." And we waited. + +He came out of a side door and around upon the porch. He was buttoning +his shirt. + +"Who's got it? Not one of _you_?" + +"No, another boy. He was sick on the trail and we took him to the ranch. +Then we rode over here." + +"What makes you think your friend has appendicitis?" + +We described how the major acted and what Fitz had found out by feeling, +and what we had done. + +"Sounds suspicious," said the doctor, shortly. "You did the right thing, +anyway. Do you want to go back with me? I'll start right over. Expect +you're pretty tired." + +"We'll go," we both exclaimed. We should say so! We wanted to be there, +on the spot. + +"I'll just get my case, and saddle-up." And he disappeared. + +He was a young doctor, smooth-faced; I guess he hadn't been out of +college very long; but he was prompt and ready. He came down in a moment +with a lantern, and put his case on the porch. He handed us a paper of +stuff. + +"There's some lump sugar," he said. "Eat it. I always carry some about +with me, on long rides. It's fine for keeping up the strength." + +He swung the lantern to get a look at us, then he went back toward the +stables, and saddled his horse. He was in the store a moment, too. + +"I've got some cheese," he announced, when he came out again. "Cheese +and sugar don't sound good as a mixture, but they'll see us through. We +must keep our nerve, you know. All aboard?" + +"All aboard," we answered. + +That was another long ride, back; but it did not seem so long as the +ride in, because we knew that we were on the right trail. The doctor +talked and asked us all about our trip as Scouts, and told experiences +that he had had on trips, himself; and we tried to meet him at least +halfway. But all the time I was wondering about the major, and whether +we would reach him in time, and whether he would get well, and what was +happening now, there. But there was no use in saying this, or in asking +the doctor a lot of questions. He would know and he would do his best, +and so would we all. + +Just at daylight we again entered the ranch yard. Fitz waved his one arm +from the ranch door. He came to meet us. His eyes were sticky and +swollen and his face pale and set, but he smiled just the same. + +"Here's the doctor," we reported. "How is he?" + +"Not so bad, as long as we keep the cold compress on. He's slept." + +"Good," said the doctor. "We'll fix him up now, all right." + +He swung off, with his case, and Fitz took him right in. Van and I sort +of tumbled off, and stumbled along after. Those forty miles at trot and +fast walk had put a crimp in our legs. But I tell you, we were thankful +that we had done it! + +And here was our second Sunday. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE LAST DASH + + +That young doctor was fine. He took things right into his own hands, and +Major Henry said all right. The major was weak but game. He was gamer +than any of us. Fitz and Red Fox Scout Ward had slept some by turns, and +the two women were ready to help, too; but the doctor gave Red Fox Scout +Van Sant and me the choice of going to sleep or going fishing. + +It was Sunday and we didn't need the fish. We didn't intend to go to +sleep; we just let them show us a place, in the bunk-house, and we lay +down, for a minute. For we were ready to help, as well as the rest of +them. A Scout must not be afraid of blood or wounds. We only lay down +with a blanket over us, instead of going fishing--and when I opened my +eyes again the sun was bright and Fitz and Ward were peeking in on us. + +They were pale, but they looked happy. + +Van and I tried to sit up. + +"Is it over with?" we asked. + +"Sure." + +"Did he take it out? Was that what was the matter?" + +"Yes. Want to see it?" + +No, we didn't. I didn't, anyway. + +"How is he? Can we see him?" + +"The doctor says he'll be all right. Maybe you can see him. He's out +from under. It's one o'clock." + +One o'clock! Phew! We were regular deserters--but we hadn't intended to +be. + +We tumbled out, now, and hurried to wash and fix up, so that we would +look good to the major. Sick people are finicky. The daughter was in the +kitchen, but the mother and the doctor were eating. There was a funny +sweetish smell, still; smell of chloroform. It is a serious smell, too. + +The doctor smiled at us. "I ought to have taken yours out, while you +were asleep," he joked. "I've been thinking of it." + +"Is he all right?" we asked; Fitz and Ward behind us, ready to hear +again. + +"Bully, so far." + +"Indeed he is," added the mother. + +"Can we see him?" + +"You can stand on the threshold and say one word: 'Hello.'" + +We tiptoed through. The bed was clean and white, with a sheet outside +instead of the colored spread; and the major was in it. The Elks' flag +was spread out, draped over the dresser, where he could see it. His eyes +opened at us. He didn't look so very terrible, and he tried to grin. + +"How?" he said. + +"Hello," said we; and we gave him the Scouts' sign. + +"Didn't even make me sick," he croaked. "But I can't get up. Don't you +fellows wait. You go ahead." + +"We will," we said, to soothe him. Then we gave him the Scouts' sign +again, and the silence sign, and the wolf sign (for bravery) (Note +66), and we drew back. The doctor had told us that we could say one +word, and we had been made to say three! + +We had seen that the major was alive and up and coming (not really up; +only going to be, you know); but this was another anxious day, I tell +you! Having an appendix cut out is no light matter, ever--and besides, +here was the fourteenth day on the trail! The major would not be able to +stir for a week and a half, maybe; yet Green Valley, our goal, was only +twenty-one miles away! + +"It's all a question of the nursing that he has now, boys," said the +doctor, in council with us. "I'm going to trust that to you Scouts; +these women have all they can do, anyway. We got the appendix out just +in time--but if it hadn't been for your first-aid treatment in the +beginning we might have been too late. That old appendix was swollen +and ready to burst if given half a chance. His pure Scout's blood and +his Scout's vitality will pull him through O. K. That's what he gets, +from living right, following out Scouts' rules. But he must have +attention night and day according to hygiene. We don't want any microbes +monkeying with that wound I made." + +"No, you bet," we said. + +"I'll leave you complete directions and then I'm going back to the +mines; but I'll ride over again to-morrow morning. Can't you keep him +from fussing about that message?" + +"We'll try," we said. + +"If you can't, then one of you can jump on a horse and take it over, so +as to satisfy him. You can make the round trip in five hours." + +Well, we were pledged not to do _that_; horse or other help was +forbidden. But we did not say so. What was the use? And it didn't seem +now as though either Fitz or I could stand it to leave the major even +for five hours. The Red Fox Scouts of course must skip on, to the +railroad, or they'd miss their big Yellowstone trip, and we two Elks +would be on night and day duty, with the major. The doctor said that he +would be out of danger in five days. By that time the message would be +long overdue. It was too bad. We had tried so hard. + +The doctor left us written directions, until he should come back; and +he rode off for the mines. + +Fitz and I took over the nursing, and let the two women go on about +their ranch work. They were mighty nice to us, and we didn't mean to +bother them any more than was absolutely necessary. The two Red Foxes +stayed a while longer. They said that they would light out early in the +morning, if the major had a good night, in time to catch the train all +right. But they didn't; we might have smelled a mouse, if we hadn't been +so anxious about the major. They were good as gold, those two Red Foxes. + +You see, the major kept fussing. He was worried over the failure of the +message. He had it on his mind all the time. To-morrow was the fifteenth +day--and here we were, laid up because of him. We told him no matter; we +all had done our Scouts' best, and no fellows could have done more. But +we would stick by him. That was our Scouts' duty, now. + +He kept fussing. When we took his temperature, as the doctor had +ordered, it had gone up two degrees. That was bad. We could not find any +other special symptoms. His cut didn't hurt him, and he had not a thing +to complain of--except that we wouldn't carry the message through in +time. + +"You'll have to do it," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant to Fitz and me. + +"But we can't." + +"Why not?" + +That was a silly question for a Scout to ask. + +"We can't leave Tom." + +"Yes, you can. Hal and I are here." + +"You've got to make that train, right away." + +"No, we haven't." + +"But you'll miss the Yellowstone trip!" + +"We can take it later." + +"No, sir! That won't do. The major and we, and the general, too, if he +knew, won't have it that way at all. You fellows have been true Scouts. +Now you go ahead." + +Scout Van flushed and fidgeted. + +"Well, to tell the truth," he blurted, "I guess we've missed connections +a little anyway. But we don't care. We sent a telegram in this afternoon +by the doctor to our crowd, telling them to go ahead themselves and not +to expect us until we cut their trail. The doctor will telephone it to +the operator." + +We gasped. + +"You see," continued Van, "we two Red Foxes can take care of the major +while you're gone, like a brick. We're first-aid nurses, and the doctor +has told us what to do; and he's coming back to-morrow and the next day +you'll be back, maybe. He said that if the major fussed you'd better do +what's wanted." + +"But look here--!" began Fitz. "The major'll feel worse if he knows +you're missing your trip than if the message is delayed a day or two." + +"No, he won't," argued Van. "We'll explain to him. We won't miss our +trip. We'll catch the crowd somewhere. Besides, that's only pleasure. +This other is business. You're on the trail, in real Scouts' service, to +show what Scouts can do, so we want to help." + +It seemed to me that they were showing what Scouts can do, too! They +were splendid, those Red Foxes. + +"The major'll just fuss and fret, you know," finished Van. "That's what +has sent his temperature up, already." + +"Well," said Fitz, slowly, "we'll see. We Elks appreciate how you other +Scouts have stuck and helped. Don't we, Jim?" + +"We sure do," I agreed. "But we don't want to ride a free horse to +death." + +"Bosh!" laughed Van. "We're all Scouts. That's enough." + +Red Fox Scout Ward beckoned to us. + +"The major wants you," he said. + +We went in. The major did not look good to me. His cheeks were getting +flushed and his eyes were large and rabbity. + +"I can't quiet him," claimed Ward, low, as we entered. + +"Do you know this is the fourteenth day?" piped the major. "I've been +counting up and it is. I'm sure it is." + +"That's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "You let us do the counting. +All you need do is get well." + +"But we have to put that message through, don't we?" answered the major. +"Just because I'm laid up is no reason why the rest of you must be laid +up, too. Darn it! Can't you do something?" + +He was excited. That was bad. + +"I've been thinking," proceeded the major. "The general was hurt, and +dropped out, but we others went on. Then little Jed Smith was hurt, and +he and Kit Carson dropped out, but we others went on. And now I'm hurt, +and I've dropped out, and none of you others will go on. That seems +mighty mean. I don't see why you're trying to make me responsible. +Everybody'll blame me." + +"Of course they won't," I said. + +He was wriggling his feet and moving his arms, and he was almost crying. + +"Would you get well quick if we leave you and take the message through, +Tom?" asked Fitz, suddenly. + +The major quit wriggling, and his face shone. + +"Would I? I'd beat the record. I'd sleep all I'm told to, and eat soup, +and never peep. Will you, Fitz? Sure?" + +"To-morrow morning. You lie quiet, and quit fussing, and sleep, and be +a model patient in the hospital, and then to-morrow morning early we'll +hike." + +"Both of you?" + +"Yep." + +"One isn't enough, in case you meet trouble. It's two on the trail, for +us Scouts." + +"I know it." + +"And you'll take the flag? I want the Elks flag to go." + +"We will," we said. + +"To-morrow morning, then," and the major smiled a peaceful, happy little +smile. "Bueno. Now I'll go to sleep. You needn't give me any dope. I'll +see you off in the morning." And he sort of settled and closed his eyes. +"When are you Red Foxes off?" he asked drowsily. + +"Oh, we've arranged to be around here a day yet," drawled Van Sant. "You +can't get rid of us. We want to hear that the message went through. Then +we'll skip. We ought to rest one day in seven. And there's a two-pound +trout in a hole here, Mrs. Harden says, and Hal thinks he can catch him +to-morrow before I do." + +"You mustn't miss that trip," murmured the major. And when we tiptoed +out, leaving Fitz on guard, he was asleep already! + +So it seemed that we had done the best thing. + +Red Foxes Ward and Van Sant divided the night watch between them so +that we Elks should be fresh for the day's march. We were up early, and +got our own breakfast, so as not to bother the two women; but the report +came out from the major's room that he had had a bully night, and that +now he was awake and was bound to see us. So we went in. + +He had the Elks flag in his hands. + +"Who's got that message?" he asked. + +I had, you know. + +He passed the flag to Fitz. + +"You take this, then. You're sure going, aren't you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"All right. You can make it. Don't you worry about me. I'm fine. Be +Scouts. It's the last leg." + +"You be a Scout, too. If we're to be Scouts, on the march, you ought to +be a Scout, in the hospital." + +"I will." He knew what we meant. "But I wish I could go." + +"So do we." + +"All ready?" + +"All ready." + +He shook our hands. + +"So long." + +"So long." + +We gave him the Scouts' salute, and out we went. We shook hands with +the Red Foxes; they saluted us, and we saluted them. We crossed the yard +for the trail; and when we looked back, the two women waved at us. We +waved back. And now we were carrying the message again, with only +twenty-one miles to go. + +The trail was up grade, following beside the creek, and we knew that we +must allow at least eight hours for those twenty-one miles. It was not +to be a nice day, either. Mists were floating around among the hills, +which was a pretty certain sign of rain. + +We hiked on. I had the message, hanging inside my shirt. It felt good. I +suspected that Fitz ought to be the one to carry it; he was my superior. +But he didn't ask for it, and I tried to believe that my carrying it +made no difference to him. I was thinking about offering it to him, but +I didn't. He had his camera, and the flag wrapped about his waist like a +sash. We'd left Sally and our other stuff at the ranch, and were +traveling light for this last spurt. + +It was a wagon trail right down the valley, and we could travel fast. +The sun grew hotter, and a hole in my boot-sole began to raise a blister +on my foot. Those fourteen days of steady trailing had been hard on +leather, and on clothes, too. + +We passed several ranches. Along in the middle of the morning thunder +began to growl in the hills, and we knew that we were liable to be wet. + +The valley grew narrower, as if it was to pinch out, and the thunder +grew louder. The storm was rising black over the hills ahead of us. + +"That's going to be a big one," said Fitz. + +It looked so. The clouds were the rolling, tumbling kind, where drab and +black are mixed. And they came fast, to eat the sun. + +It was raining hard on the hills ahead. We could see the lightning every +second, awful zigzags and splits and bursting bombs, and the thunder was +one long bellow. + +The valley pinched to not much more than a gulch, with aspens and pines +and willows, and now and then little grassy places, and the stream +rippling down through the middle. Half the sky was gone, now, and the +sun was swallowed, and it was time that Fitz and I found cover. We did +not hunt a tree; not much! Trees are lightning attracters, and they +leak, besides. But we saw where a ledge of shelf-rock cropped out, +making a little cave. + +"We'd better get in here and cache till the worst is over," proposed +Fitz. "We'll eat our lunch while we're waiting." + +That sounded like sense. So we snuggled under. We could just sit up, +with our feet inside the edge. + +"Boom-oom-oom!" roared the thunder, shaking the ground. + +"Boom-oom-oom! Oom! Oom! Boom!" + +We could feel a chill, the breeze stopped, as if scared, drops began to +patter, a few, and then more, faster and faster, hard and swift as hail, +the world got dark, and suddenly with roar and slash down she came, +while we were eating our first sandwich put up by the two women. + +That was the worst rain that Fitz or I had ever seen. Between mouthfuls +we watched. The drops were big and they fell like a spurt from a hose, +until all the outside world was just one sheet of water. The streaks +drummed with the rumble of a hundred wagons. We couldn't see ten feet. +Before we had eaten our second sandwiches, the water was trickling +through cracks in the shelf-rock roof, and dirt was washing away from +the sides of our cave. Outside, the land was a stretch of yellow, liquid +adobe, worked upon by the fierce pour. + +"We'll have to get out of this," shouted Fitz in my ear. "This roof may +cave in on us." + +And out he plunged; I followed. We were soaked through in an instant, +and I could feel the water running down my skin. We could scarcely see +where to go or what to do; but we had bolted just in time. One end of +the shelf-rock washed out like soap, and in crumpled the roof, as a mass +of shale and mud! Up the gulch sounded a roaring--another, different +roaring from the roaring of the rain and thunder. Fitz grabbed my hand. + +"Run!" he shouted. "Quick! Get across!" + +This was no time for questions, of course. I knew that he spoke in +earnest, and had some good reason. Hand in hand we raced, sliding and +slipping, for the creek. It had changed a heap in five minutes. It was +all a thick yellow, and was swirling and yeasty. Fitz waded right in, in +a big hurry to get on the other side. He let go of my hand, but I +followed close. The current bit at my knees, and we stumbled on the +hidden rocks. Out Fitz staggered, and up the opposite slope, through +sage and bushes. The roaring was right behind us. It was terrible. We +were about all in, and Fitz stopped, panting. + +"See that?" he gasped, pointing back. + +A wave of yellow muck ten feet high was charging down the gulch like a +squadron of cavalry in solid formation. Logs and tree-branches were +sticking out of it, and great rocks were tossing and floating. Another +second, and it had passed, and where we had come from--trail and +shelf-rock and creek--was nothing but the muddy water and driftwood +tearing past, with the pines and aspens and willows trembling amidst it. +But it couldn't reach us. + +"Cloud-burst," called Fitz, in my ear. + +I nodded. He was white. I felt white, too. That had been a narrow +escape. + +"We could have climbed that other side, couldn't we?" I asked. + +"We were on the wrong side of the creek, though. We might have been cut +off from where we're going. That's what I thought of. See?" + +Wise old Fitz. That was Scouty, to do the best thing no matter how quick +you must act. Of course, with the creek between us and Green Valley, and +the bridges washed out and the water up, we might have been held back +for half a day! + +The yellow flood boiled below, but the rain was quitting, and we might +as well move on, anyway. + +According to what we had been told of the trail, up at the head of the +gulch it turned off, and crossed the creek on a high bridge, and made +through the hills northwest for the town. Now we must shortcut to strike +it over in that direction. + +The rain was quitting; the sun was going to shine. That was a hard +climb, through the wet and the stickiness and the slipperiness, with our +clothes weighting us and clinging to us and making us hotter. But up we +pushed, puffing. Then we followed the ridge a little way, until we had +to go down. Next we must go up again, for another ridge. + +Fitz plugged along; so did I. The sun came out and the ground steamed, +and our clothes gradually dried, as the brush and trees dried; but +somehow I didn't feel extra good. My head thumped, and things looked +queer. It didn't result in anything serious, after the hike was over, so +I guess that maybe I was hungry and excited. The rain had soaked our +lunch as well as us and we threw it away in gobs; we counted on supper +in Green Valley. + +We didn't stop. Fitz was going strong. He was steel. And if I could hold +out I mustn't say a word. So it was up-hill and down-hill, across +country through brush and scattered timber, expecting any time to hit +the trail or come in sight of the town. And how my head did thump! + +Finally in a draw we struck a cow-path, and we stuck to this, because it +looked as if it was going somewhere. Other cow-paths joined it, and it +got larger and larger and more hopeful; and about five o'clock by the +sun we stepped into a main traveled road. Hurrah! This was the trail for +us. + +The rain had not spread this far, and the road was dusty. A signboard +said, pointing: "Brown's Big Store, Green Valley's Leader, One Mile." We +were drawing near! I tried not to limp, and not to notice my head, as we +spurted to a fast walk, straight-foot and quick, so that we would enter +triumphantly. As like as not people would be looking out for us, as this +was the last day; and we would show them Scouts' spirit. We Elks had +fought treachery and fire and flood, and we had left four good men along +the way; those had been a strenuous fifteen days, but we were winning +through at last. + +That last mile seemed to me longer than any twenty. The dust and gravel +were hot, the sun flamed, my blister felt like a cushion full of +needles, my legs were heavy and numb, that old head thumped like a drum, +and I had a notion that if I slackened or lost my stride I'd never +finish out that mile. So when Fitz stumbled on a piece of rock, and his +strap snapped and he stopped to pick up his camera, I kept moving. He +would catch me. + +A shoulder of rock stuck out and the road curved around it; and when I +had curved around it, too, then I saw something that sent my heart into +my throat, and brought me up short. With two leaps I was back, around +the rock again, in time to sign Fitz, coming: "Halt! Silence!" And I +motioned him close behind the shoulder. + +Beyond the rock the road stretched straight and clear, with the town +only a quarter of a mile. But only about a hundred yards away, where the +creek flowed close to the road, were two fellows, fishing. One was Bill +Duane! + +Fitz obeyed my signs. He gazed at me, startled and anxious. + +"What is it?" he asked, pantomime. + +I held up two fingers, for two enemies. Then I cautiously peeked out. +Bill Duane was leaving the water, as if he was coming; and the other +fellow was coming. The other fellow was Mike Delavan. They must have +seen me before I had jumped back. We might have circuited them, but now +it was too late. I never could stand a chase over the hills, and maybe +Fitz couldn't. + +But there was a way, and a chance, and I made up my mind in a twinkling. +I jerked out the message and held it at Fitz. He shook his head. I +signed what we would do--what I would do and what he must do. He shook +his head. He wouldn't. We would stick together. I clinched my teeth and +waved my fist under his nose, and signed that he _must_. He was the one. + +Then I thrust the message into his hand, and out I sprang. Around the +shoulder of rock Bill and Mike were sneaking, to see what had become of +me. They were only about fifty yards, now, and I made for them as if to +dodge them. They let out a yell and closed in, and up the hill at one +side I pegged. They pegged to head me. + +My legs worked badly. I didn't mind breaking the blister (I felt the +warm stuff ooze out, and the sting that followed); but those heavy legs! +As a Scout I ought to have skipped up the hill as springy and +long-winded as a goat; but instead I had to shove myself. But up I went, +nip and tuck--and my head thumped when my heart did, about a thousand +times a minute. Every step I took hurt from hair to sole. But I didn't +care, if I only could go far enough. Bill and Mike climbed after, on +the oblique so as to cut me off before I could reach the top of the +ridge and the level there. + +Straight up I went, drawing them on; and halfway my throat was too dry +and my legs were too heavy and my head jarred my eyes too much, and I +wobbled and fell down. On came the two enemy; but I didn't care. I +looked past them and saw Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand pelting down the road. +He had cached his camera, but he had the flag and the message, his one +arm was working like a driving-rod, he was running true, the trail lay +straight and waiting, with the goal open, and I knew that he would make +it! + + + + +APPENDIX: SCOUT NOTES + + +CHAPTER I + +Note 1, page 3: Many old-time "scouts" of Western plains and mountains +did not amount to much. They led a useless life, hunting and fighting +for personal gain, and gave little thought to preserving game, making +permanent trails, or otherwise benefiting people who would follow. Their +knowledge and experience was of the selfish or of the unreliable kind. +They cared for nobody but themselves, and for nothing but their wild +haunts. However, these trapper-explorers whose names the Elk Patrol took +were of value to the world at large and deserve to be remembered. + +General William H. Ashley lived in old St. Louis, and became a +fur-trader and fur-hunter in 1822. By his great enterprise he encouraged +other Americans to penetrate the Western country. He led numerous +expeditions across the wild plains and the wild Rockies, and his parties +were great training-schools for young trapper-scouts. He it was who +fairly broke the famous Oregon and California emigrant trail across the +Rocky Mountains by hauling a six-pounder cannon, on wheels, to his fort +in Utah; his men were the first to explore the Great Salt Lake; he was +the first brigadier-general of the Missouri State militia, and after his +fur days he went to Congress. + +Major Andrew Henry was General Ashley's partner in fur. But before +joining with Ashley, in 1810 he had built, in Idaho, the first American +trading post or fort west of the mountains. + +Kit Carson was a real "boy scout," for he took the scout trail in 1826, +when he was only sixteen. Because of his modesty, his bravery, his +shrewdness, and his kindliness, his help to army and other Government +expeditions, and his advice in Indian matters, he is the best-known of +all Western frontiersmen. + +Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand was an Ashley trapper, and was a captain +of trappers. He afterwards served as a valuable guide for emigrants and +the Government, and was a Government agent over Indians. He was called +by the Indians "Bad Hand," because one hand had been crippled through a +rifle explosion. He was called "White Head," too, because in a terrible +chase by Indians his hair turned white. + +Jedediah S. Smith is known as the Knight in Buckskin. He also was an +Ashley scout or trapper, and he was the first American trapper to lead a +party across to California. Jedediah Smith was a true Christian, and +during all his wanderings the Bible was his best companion. + +Jim Bridger was another Ashley scout. He became a scout when he was +nineteen, before Kit Carson, and is almost as well known as Kit Carson. +He was the Ashley man who discovered the Great Salt Lake, in 1825; he +was the first to tell about the Yellowstone Park; and it was by his +trail that the Union Pacific Railroad found its way over the Rocky +Mountains. + +Note 2, page 4: Boy Scouts know that "taking a message to Garcia" means +"there and back and no breath wasted." When the war with Spain broke +out, in 1898, Captain Andrew Summers Rowan, of the United States Army, +was directed by the President to convey a message from the Government to +General Garcia of the Cuban Army. Nobody seemed to know the exact +whereabouts of General Garcia, who was concealed in the depths of the +island. But Captain Rowan did not wait to ask "when" or "how." Not he. +He pocketed the message, he made for Cuba, he plunged into the jungle, +he found General Garcia, and he brought back the desired report. That +was genuine Scouts' work, without frills or foolishness. + +Note 3, page 5: Two pairs of thin socks are better for the feet than one +pair of thick socks. They rub on each other, and this saves the skin +from rubbing on the inside of the boot. Soldiers sometimes soap the +heels and soles of their stockings, on the inside. + +Note 4, page 6: The "tarp" or tarpaulin, or cowboy bed-sheet, is a strip +of sixteen- or eighteen-ounce canvas duck six to eight feet wide and ten +to twenty feet long. Fifteen feet is long for Boy Scouts. But it should +be plenty wide enough to tuck in well and not draw open when _humped_ by +the body, and plenty long enough to cover, with room for the feet, and +plenty heavy enough to shed wind and water. It is used on the outside, +under and over; and in between, in his blankets, the Scout is snug. The +tarp is simple and cheap and is easily accommodated to circumstances. If +a few brass eyes are run along the edges, and in the corners, then it +can be stretched for a shelter-tent, too. It is much used on the plains +and in the mountains. + +Note 5, page 6: The diamond hitch is the favorite tie by which packs and +other loads are fastened upon burros and horses. It has been used from +very early days in the West, and is called the "diamond" hitch because +when taut the rope forms a diamond on top of the pack. There are several +styles of the diamond hitch, but they all are classified as the single +or the double diamond. Some require only one person to tie them; some +require two persons. They bind the load very flat, they may be loosened +or tightened quickly from the free end of the lash rope, and they do not +stick or jam. Nobody has time to fuss with hard knots, when the pack +must come off in a hurry. + +The simplest form of the diamond hitch is tied as shown here. Scouts may +practice it with a cushion laid upon a porch rail, a cord for a lash +rope, a strip of cloth for the band or cincha, and a bent nail for the +cincha hook. + +The Elk Scouts had under their top-packs a "sawbuck" pack-saddle, which +is a pair of wooden X's; and to the horns of the X's they hung on each +side a canvas case or pannier, in which were stowed cooking utensils, +etc. The blankets, etc., were folded and laid on top, with the +tarpaulins covering, and the whole was then "laired up" (which is the +army and packing term for tucking and squaring and making all +shipshape), so that it would ride securely. The panniers must balance +each other, even if rocks have to be put in on one side to even up; or +else the burro's back will be made sore. Top-packs must not ride wobbly +or aslant. + +A splendid little book for Boy Scouts is the pamphlet "Pack +Transportation," issued by the Quartermaster's Department of the United +States Army, and for sale at a small price by the Government Printing +Office, Washington. It tells about all the pack hitches, with pictures, +and how to care for the animals on the march. This latter is very +important. + +Before Number 3 is formed, the cinch or cincha (the belly-band) must be +drawn very tight, so that the double-twist which makes the loop in +Number 3 will stick. But the rope and cincha are apt to slip and loosen, +unless the Scout takes a jam-hitch or Blackwall hitch around the hook of +the cincha. The rope should be kept taut throughout; and at the last +should be heaved tauter still, so that the diamond bites into the pack +well; and the end of the rope should be doubled back and tucked under so +that it will not drag, and yet can be easily got at. + +[Illustration: THE SIMPLEST SINGLE DIAMOND] + +The lash rope, or pack-rope, in the Army is one-half inch in size and is +fifty feet long; but a forty-foot rope is plenty long enough for Scouts. +A lair rope also is useful in packing. This is a three-eighths inch +rope, twenty-five or thirty feet long, by which the packs may first be +laired or tied up securely so that nothing shall shake out. + +A pack for a burro may weigh from 200 to 250 pounds; but on a long, +rough trip 150 pounds is better. A pack is harder on a mule or a horse +than a rider is, because it never lets up. + +Note 6, page 6: The Indian bow was only two and one-half to four feet +long, so that it could be carried easily when stalking or when on +horseback. The Sioux bow, four feet long, was an inch and a half wide at +the middle and an inch thick, and tapered to half an inch thick and half +an inch wide, at the ends. The Indian bow was made of wood, and of +mountain-goat horns, or of solid bones, glued together. The wooden bow +frequently was strengthened by having hide or sinew glued along the +back. Until they learned the knack of it, few white men could bend an +Indian bow. + +The arrows were of different lengths, but each warrior used the one +length, if he could, so that he would shoot alike, every time. Each +warrior knew his own arrows, by a private mark--by length or by pattern +of stem or of feathers. Some tribes used two feathers, some three. +Scouts can mark their arrows, in the same way. + +The bow and arrow are good Scout weapons. They give no noise. They do +not frighten animals or warn the enemy. They are not expensive. They can +be made on the spot. And it takes Scoutcraft to make them and to use +them successfully. As long as the Indians had only bows and arrows, +there was plenty of game for all. + +Note 7, page 6: The lariat rope, or simply "rope," in the West, is +thirty-five or forty feet long. Usually it is five-eighths, four-ply +manilla, but the best are of braided rawhide. Those bought at stores +have a metal knot or honda through which the slipnoose runs; but cowboys +and Boy Scouts do not need this. They tie their own honda, which should +be a small fixed loop with space enough for the rope to pass freely. The +inside of the loop, against which the rope slips back and forth, may be +wrapped with leather. In throwing the rope, the noose or slipknot should +be opened to four or five feet in diameter, and the free part of the +rope outside the noose should be grasped together with the noose for +about one third along the noose from the honda knot. The remainder of +the rope is held in a coil in the other hand, ready to release when the +noose is cast. The noose (with the part of the free rope) is whirled in +thumb and fingers around the head, until it has a good start; and then +it is jerked straight forward by the wrist and forearm. As it sails, the +honda knot swings to the front and acts as a weight to open the noose +wide. That is why part of the rope is taken up, with the noose, and the +noose is grasped one third along from the knot itself. + +The rope, or lariat, or lasso, is a handy implement for the Scout. The +Western Indians and the old-time scouts or trappers used it a great +deal, for catching animals and even enemies; and when the United States +fought with Mexico, in 1846, some of the Mexican cavalry were armed with +lassos. + +Note 8, page 7: Anybody on the march always feels better and can travel +better when he keeps himself as clean and as neat as possible. Each pair +of Scouts in a Patrol should share a war-bag, which is a canvas sack +about four feet long, with a round bottom and with a top puckered by a +rope. This war-bag is for personal stuff, so that there is no need to +paw around in the general baggage, and no chance of losing things. + +Note 9, page 7: Coffee is popular, but tea is better, in the long run, +and Scouts should not neglect it on the trail. It is lighter than +coffee, is more quickly made, and is a food, a strength-giver, and a +thirst-quencher in one. All explorers favor it. + +Note 10, page 7: Scout Troops would do well to have an official +physician who will make out a list of remedies to be used in camp or on +the march. When Scouts know how to clean out the stomach and the +intestines and how to reduce fever and to subdue chills, and what to +give in case of poisoning, then they can prevent many illnesses and +perhaps save life. The remedies should be in shape to be easily carried, +and should be simple to handle. + +Note 11, page 7: The Indian walk and the old scout walk was the +straight-foot walk, because it covers the ground with the least +resistance. When the foot is turned so that it is pushed sideways, there +is waste motion. The toes should push backward, not quartering, to get +the most out of the leg muscles. George Catlin, the famous Indian +painter, who lived among the Indians of the West before any of us were +born, says that he could not walk in moccasins until he walked +straight-foot. The Indians turned their toes in a little. + +Note 12, page 10: All the Indian tribes of the Western plains and +mountains, and most of the old-time scouts, knew sign language. This was +a language by means of motions of the hands, helped by the body and +face; so that persons could sit and talk together for hours and not +utter a word! In time of danger, when silence is desired, Scouts of +to-day will find the sign language valuable; and by it the Scout of one +country can talk with the Scout of a foreign country. + +A book on the "Indian Sign Language" was written in 1884 by Captain W. +P. Clark of the United States Army, and it gives all the signs for +things from A to Z. + +Fitzpatrick's sign for "Watch!" was to bring his right hand with back +up, in front of lower part of the face, the first two fingers extended +and separated a little and pointing down the trail. The thumb and other +fingers are closed. The tips of the two fingers represent the two eyes +looking! When he meant "Listen!" he put his hand, palm front, to his +ear, with thumb and first finger open, so that the ear set in the angle +of them; and he wriggled his hands slowly. + +Jim Bridger's sign for "Horseback!" was two fingers of one hand placed +astride the edge of the other hand, and the sign for "Wolf!" is the hand +(or both hands) with palm to the front, before the shoulder, and the +first two fingers pricked up, separated like two ears. Then the hand was +moved forward and upward, just a little, like a wolf reconnoitering over +a crest. + +Occasionally the sign for something was not precisely the same among all +the Indian tribes. The Pawnee sign for "wolf" was the first finger of +each hand stuck up alongside the head, like ears pricking. But it was a +sign easily read. All the signs were sensible and initiative. When the +"future" was meant, the finger was thrust ahead with a screwing motion, +as if boring; when the "past" was meant, the hand and finger were +extended in front and drawn back with the screwing motion. When he was +full of food the Indian drew his thumb and finger along his body from +his stomach to his throat. When he was hungry he drew the edge of his +hand back and forth across his stomach, as sign that he was being cut in +two. The sign "talk" is to draw the words out of the mouth with thumb +and finger; while to "stop talking" is the same motion half made and +then slashed by the edge of the same hand being brought down through it. +This means "All right," "That's enough," "I understand," and also "Cut +it out!" "Chop it off!" + +Years were reckoned as winters, and "winter" is signed by the two +clenched hands shivering in front of the body. Days were "sleeps," and +"sleep" is signed by inclining the head sideways, to rest upon the palm +of the hand. "Man" is the first finger thrust upright, before, because +man walks erect. The "question" sign is the right hand bent up, before, +at the wrist, fingers apart, and turned from side to side. To ask "How +old are you?" the Indian would sign: "You," "winter," "number," "what?" + +So Scouts will not find it hard to pick up the sign language; the +motions represent the thing itself. When a sign requires several +motions, a good sign talker will make them all as rapidly as we +pronounce syllables, and he will tell a long story using one hand or +two, as most convenient. + + +CHAPTER II + +Note 13, page 11: The sign for "Bird flying" is the sign for wings. The +two hands are raised opposite the shoulders, palms to the front, fingers +extended and together. Then the hands are waved forward and back, like +wings--slowly for large birds, fast for little birds, to imitate the +bird itself. + +Note 14, page 13: A good way to spread the Scout or cowboy tarpaulin bed +is to lay the tarpaulin out at full length, on the smooth place chosen, +and to lay the blankets and quilts, open, full length on top. Both ends +of the tarp are left bare, of course, for the bedding is shorter than +the tarp. Then the whole is turned back upon itself at the middle; one +edge of the tarp is tucked under, and part of the other edge, making a +bag, with leeway enough so that the sleeper can crawl in. Now there is +as much bedding under as over, which is the proper condition when +sleeping out upon the ground. The bare end of the tarp, under, will keep +the pillow off the dirt; the bare end which comes over will cover the +face in case of storm. The Scout has a low, flat bed, which will shed +wind and rain. + +Note 15, page 13: A reflector is a handy baker. It is a bright-lined box +like half of a pyramid or half of an oven. The dough is put into it, and +it is set upon its base, open to the fire. The heat strikes it and +reflects upon the dough and the dough bakes. It is simple, and can be +made to fold together, so that it packs easily. Another trapper and +scout method is to smear dough upon a shovel or even a flat, smooth +board, and set it up against the fire. The Mexicans bake their +tortillas, or thin flour cakes, by smearing them upon smooth stones. + +Note 16, page 17: Scouts can readily invent a whistle code of their own. +The Western Indians used whistles of bone, in war, and the United States +Army can drill by whistle signals. + + +CHAPTER III + +Note 17, page 21: The teeth are a very important item in Scout service. +If Scouts will notice the soldiers of the United States Army, and the +sailors of the United States Navy, they will notice also that their +teeth are always kept clean and sound. Scouts, no matter where they are, +should brush their teeth well with tooth powder every morning at least; +and should keep them free from particles of food, and should wash their +mouths with a dental antiseptic to kill microbes. Brushed teeth and +combed and brushed hair after the wet rub make the Scout fit for the +day's work. He feels decent. + +Note 18, page 25: Scouts who are in camp or on the trail without +fish-hooks and are hard-put to catch fish, may try an old Indian and +scout method. A bent pin sometimes does not work, with large fish; but +the Indians tied a cord or sinew to the end of a small, slender bone, +and again, with a loop, to the middle of the bone. + +When the fish swallowed the bait impaled upon the bone, the cord or +sinew hauled the bone by the middle so that it usually snagged in the +fish's throat or gills. A sharp, tough splinter or a small nail will do +the same. Thus: + +[Illustration] + + +CHAPTER IV + +Note 19, page 33: Newspaper stuffed into wet boots or shoes helps them +to dry by holding them open and by absorbing the moisture. Of course, +the newspaper should be changed frequently. Warm pebbles poured into wet +boots or shoes dry them quickly, too. A stuffing of dead grass is +another Scouty scheme. + +Note 20, page 36: For a leader of a Scouts' party to write up the chief +events of each day's march in a notebook, and to sketch the country +traversed, teaches order and disciplines the memory, and oftentimes will +prove a valuable record. + +Note 21, page 38: The right-handed or the left-handed person usually is +right-sided or left-sided, all the way down, but not always. So because +a person is right-handed or left-handed he _probably_ is right-footed or +left-footed, but not _necessarily_ so. Some persons use their left hands +to write with, but throw with their right hands, and are likely to use +either foot. And some may be left-handed but right-footed. A Scout +should learn to use both hands and both feet alike. And he also will +learn not to be cocksure and jump at conclusions. All rules have +exceptions. + + +CHAPTER V + +Note 22, page 39: Scouts will find that weather-signs among the high +mountains are very different from those of the low or the flatter +country. The easiest sign of storm is the night-caps. For when in the +morning the mountains still have their night-caps on, and the clouds +rest like shattered fog in the draws and hollows, the day will surely +have rain, by noon. But among the Rockies there usually is a +thunder-storm in the middle of every day during the summer. + +No one wind for all localities brings rain. The weather is interfered +with by the peaks and the valleys. However, here are a few signs to be +noted: + +When by day the air is extra clear, so that very distant ridges stand +out sharply, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When the camp-fire smoke bends down, in the still air of midday or +afternoon, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When by night the stars are extra sharp and twinkle less than usual, +overhead, but are dim around the horizon, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When there is a halo or ring around the moon, a storm is apt to be +brewing; and it is claimed that the larger the circle, the nearer the +storm. + +When the canvas of the tent stays tight or damp, showing a gathering +dampness, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When ants are noted dragging leaves or twigs across the entrance to +their nest, a storm is near. + +The change of the moon is claimed to change the weather also. And an old +maxim says that the third day before the new moon is the sign of the +weather for that moon month. If the new moon comes upon the 10th, then +the weather of the 8th is to be the general weather of the next thirty +days. + +Of course, in winter time, or in the late fall or early spring, when the +sun-dogs appear, that is a pretty sure sign of cold weather. The Indians +say that the "sun is painting both cheeks," or that the "sun has built +fires to warm himself." + +But Scouts will have difficulty in predicting mountain weather, because +storms are diverted by the peaks, and swing off or are broken up; and +besides, many mountain trails and mountain camps are one mile and two +miles high--above ordinary conditions. The saying is that only fools and +Indians predict weather, in the mountains! + +Note 23, page 39: Scouts as well as anybody else should have their teeth +approved of by a dentist, before starting out on the long trail. The +tooth-ache saps the strength, and a cavity might result in a serious +abscess, far from proper treatment. + +Note 24, page 40: In the thick timber where there are many trees the +chance of course is less that the tree which you are under will be +struck by the lightning. But to seek refuge under any tree, in a field +or other open place, is dangerous. Many persons are killed, every +summer, by seeking some lone tree or small clump of trees, or a +high-standing tree, in a thunder-storm. + +Note 25, page 47: The low soft spot is not so good as the high hard +spot, to sleep on. Green grass is damp, and softness gathers dampness. +Cowboys and rangers always spread their beds on a little elevation, +where the ground is drier and where there is a breeze for ventilation +and to keep the insects away. + +Note 26, page 49: Nobody can cook by a big fire, without cooking himself +too! The smaller the fire the better, as long as it is enough. Just a +handful of twigs at a time will cook coffee or roast a chunk of meat. It +is an old scout saying that "Little wood feeds the fire, much wood puts +it out." Cook by coals rather than by flame. In the West cedar makes the +best coals, the cleanest flame; sage makes a very hot fire, and burns to +ashes which hold the fire, but it does not give hard coals. Anything +pitchy smokes the camp. + +In the mountains meat wrapped in a gunnysack or a tarpaulin, to protect +from the flies, and hung in the shade and particularly in a tree where +the air circulates, will keep a long, long time. + +Note 27, page 49: The brass eyes in the edges of the Elk Scouts' tarps +here would come into good use for stretching the tarp as a low "A" +shelter-tent or dog-tent. The small shelter-tents of the United States +Army are called by the soldiers "pup" tents. + +Note 28, page 53: The notion that many persons have, of taking guns with +them into the mountains or the hills, for protection from wild animals, +is a foolish notion. In this day and age the wild animals have been so +disciplined by man that they are afraid of him. They would rather run +than fight; and throughout the greater part of the United States in +North America the animals who _could_ be dangerous are scarce. Guns do +much more harm than the animals themselves; and it is the wounded animal +which _is_ dangerous. To pack a big gun on the ordinary trail through +the wilderness country West or East is the mark of a tenderfoot, unless +the gun is needed for meat. Many and many a seasoned wilderness +dweller--ranger, cowboy, rancher, prospector--travels afoot or horseback +day after day, night after night, and never carries a gun, never needs a +gun. + + +CHAPTER VI + +Note 29, page 61: One of the regulations of the United States Army Pack +Transportation Department says that packers must treat all the mules +kindly, for a mule remembers kindness and never forgets injury. Packers +must not even throw stones, to drive a mule into line. Of course, Boy +Scouts know that kindness with animals always wins out over harshness, +and that there is no greater cowardliness than the abuse of a helpless +beast. + +Note 30, page 62: Highness and dryness, wood and water, and grazing for +the animals are the requirements of the Scouts' camp on the pack trail. + +Note 31, page 63: By camp law bird or four-foot or other harmless +animals within say two hundred yards of camp is safe from injury by man. +This also prevents reckless shooting about camp. The wild life near camp +is one of the chief charms of camping in the wilderness. No Scout wishes +to leave a trail of blood and murder and suffering, to mark his progress +through meadow and timber. + +Note 32, page 67: This division of watches or guards should be noted by +Scouts. Bed-mates or bunkies should not follow one another on guard; for +A wakes B when he crawls out; and after he has changed with B, and has +slept two or three hours, he is waked again by B crawling in. But each +Scout listed for guard duty should so be listed that he is not disturbed +through at least two of the watches. + + +CHAPTER VII + +Note 33, page 72: A "trail" is made up of "sign" or marks which show +that something has passed that way. The overturning of pebbles and +sticks, dryness and wetness of the spots where they were, dryness and +hardness of the edges of footprints, grass pressed down, twigs of bushes +broken, dew disturbed, water muddied, ant-hills crushed--all tell a tale +to the Scout. He must be able to figure out what was the condition of +the trail when the person or animal passed--and that will tell him how +long ago the marks or sign were made. And the shape of the sign, and the +way in which it is laid, tell what manner of person or animal passed, +and how fast. Steps vary in size, and in pressure and in distance apart. +A man at a very hurried walk is apt to leave a deeper toe-print, and a +loaded horse sinks deeper than a light one. A good trailer is a good +guesser, but he is a good guesser because he puts two and two together +and knows that they make four. + +Note 34, page 74: A portion of a patrol on a scout should think to leave +private signs, by marks in the dirt or on trees or by twigs bent or by +little heaps of stones, which will tell their comrades what has been +occurring. This the Indians were accustomed to do, especially in a +strange country. To this day little stone-heaps are seen, in the plains +and mountains of the West, marking where Indians had laid a trail. + +Note 35, page 77: Great generals and captains make it a point not to do +what the enemy wants them to do or expects them to do, and never to +think that the enemy is less smart than they are themselves. To despise +the enemy is to give him an advantage. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Note 36, page 88: "Parole" means word of honor not to attempt escape; +and in war when a prisoner of rank gives this promise he is permitted +his freedom within certain limits. Sometimes he is released entirely +upon his promise or parole not to fight again during the war. Paroles +are deemed serious matters, and few men are so reckless and deceitful as +to break them. But of course there are two sides to a parole; and if it +is not accepted as honestly as it is given, then there is no bargain. +But if there is the slightest doubt or argument, then the Scout ought to +stay a prisoner, rather than escape with dishonor, charged with breaking +his word. That the other fellow is dishonest is no excuse for the Scout +being dishonest, too. + +Note 37, page 89: The sign for escape is this: Bridger crossed his +wrists, with his fists doubled, and wrenched them apart, upward, as if +breaking a cord binding them. He may have used the "Go" sign, which is +the hand extended, edge up, in front of the hip, and pushed forward with +an upward motion, as if climbing a trail. + +Note 38, page 94: An old scout method of tying a prisoner's arms behind +his back is to place the hands there with their backs together, and to +tie the thumbs and the little fingers! This requires only ordinary cord +and not much of it, and even a strip from a handkerchief will do. To +prevent the prisoner from running away, he may be stood up against a +tree and his arms passed behind that, before the hands are tied. + + +CHAPTER IX + +Note 39, page 100: Persons who are lost and are going it blindly on foot +usually keep inclining to the left, because they step a little farther +with the right foot than with the left. After a time they complete a +circle. Scouts should watch themselves and note whether they are making +toward the left or not. Horses, too, are supposed to circle toward the +left. But all this applies chiefly to the level country. In the +mountains and hills the course is irregular, as the person or horse +climbs up and down, picking the easier way. And on a slope anybody is +always slipping downward a little, on a slant toward the bottom, unless +he lines his trail by a tree or rock. + +Scouts when they think that they are lost should hold to their good +sense. If they feel themselves growing panicky, they had better sit down +and wait until they can reason things out. The Scout who takes matters +easy can get along for a couple of days until he is found or has worked +himself free; but the Scout who runs and chases and sobs and shrieks +wears himself down so that he is no good. + +To be lost among the hills or mountains is much less serious than to be +lost upon the flat plains. The mountains and hills have landmarks; the +plains have maybe none. In the mountains and hills the Scout who is +looking for camp or companions should get up on a ridge, and make a +smoke--the two-smoke "lost" signal--and wait, and look for other smokes. +If he feels that he must travel, because camp is too far or cannot see +his smoke, or does not suspect that he is lost, his best plan is to +strike a stream and stick to it until it brings him out. Travel by a +stream is sometimes jungly; but in the mountains, ranches and cabins are +located beside streams. Downstream is of course the easier direction. + +It is a bad plan to try short cuts, when finding a way. The Scout may +think that by leaving a trail or a stream and striking off up a draw or +over a point he will save distance. But there is the chance that he will +not come out where he expects to come out, and that he will be in a +worse fix than before. When a course is once decided upon, the Scout +should follow it through, taking it as easy as possible. + +Note 40, page 106: Old-time scouts had to make all their fires by flint +and steel; and it is well for modern Scouts to practice this. When the +ground is too wet, and would be apt to put out the little blaze, the +fire can be started in a frying-pan. Matches are very convenient, but +they must be warded from dampness. They can be carried in a corked +bottle; they can be dipped, before leaving home, in melted paraffin, +which will coat them water-proof; and dampness can be rubbed out of them +by friction by rolling them rapidly between the palms of the hands and +scratching them quick. When every object is soaked through, matches (if +dry) may be lighted upon a stone which has been rubbed violently against +another stone. + +If the Scout has a rifle or pistol or gun, then he can make a fire by +shooting powder into a bunch of tinder--raveled handkerchief or coat +lining, or frazzled cedar bark. The bullet or the shot should be drawn +out of the cartridge, and the powder made loose, and the tinder should +be fastened so that it will not be blown away. + +In the rain a blanket or coat or hat should be held over the little +blaze, until the flames are strong. + +It was the old-time scouts who taught even the Indians to make fire by +flint and steel, or by two flints. Two chunks of granite, especially +when iron is contained, will answer. The Indians previously had used +fire-sticks and were very careful to save coals. But they saw that +"knocking fire out of rocks" was much easier. + +Note 41, page 108: Scouts of course know the Big Dipper or the Great +Bear, and the Little Dipper or the Little Bear, in the sky. The Big +Dipper points to the North Star or Pole Star, and the North Star or +Pole Star is the star in the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. +These two formations up above are the Clock of the Heavens. + +The "Guardians of the Pole" are the two stars which make the bottom of +the cup of the Big Dipper. They are supposed to be sentinels marching +around and around the tent of the North Star, as they are carried along +by the Big Dipper. For the stars of the Big and the Little Dipper, like +all the other stars, circuit the North Star once in about every +twenty-four hours. + +But the old-time scouts of plains and mountains told time by the +"Pointers," which are the two bright stars forming the end of the cup of +the Big Dipper. These point to the Pole Star, and they move just as the +"Guardians of the Pole" move. They are easier to watch than the +"Guardians of the Pole," and are more like an hour-hand. With every hour +they, and the "Guardians of the Pole," and all the Dipper stars move in +the same direction as the sun one and one-half the distance between the +stars forming the top of the Big Dipper's cup. The Scout with a good +memory and a good eye for distance can guess pretty nearly how time +passes. + +He has another method, too. The circuit of the stars is not quite the +same as the circuit of the sun; for the stars swing about from +starting-place to starting-place in about four minutes less than +twenty-four hours, so that every month they gain 120 minutes, or two +hours. On May 1, at nine in the evening, the "Pointers" of the Big +Dipper are straight overhead, and point downward at the Pole Star, and +if we could see them twelve hours later, or at nine in the morning, we +should find them opposite, below the Pole Star, and pointing up at it. +On June 1, they would arrive overhead two hours earlier, or at seven in +the evening, and by nine o'clock would be west of overhead, while at +seven and nine in the morning they would be opposite, or halfway around. +On August 1 their halfway places would be at three in the afternoon and +three in the morning. + +So, figuring each month, and knowing where the "Pointers" are at nine, +or at midnight, or at three in the morning, the Scout can read, for +several nights running without appreciable change, what time it is. And +on the plains the old trappers were accustomed to look up out of their +buffalo-robes and say, "By the Pointers it is midnight." + +The Big Dipper swings on such a wide circle that sometimes it drops into +the hills or into mist. The Little Dipper stays high in the sky. +Therefore sailors choose the two brighter stars in the end of the cup of +the Little Dipper, and watch them, for an hour-hand. + +The Blackfeet Indians call the Big Dipper the Seven Brothers, and they, +and also other plains people such as sheep-herders and cowboys, tell the +time by the "Last Brother," which is the star in the end of the handle. +"The Last Brother is pointing to the east," or "The Last Brother is +pointing downwards to the prairie," say the Indians. And by that they +mean the hour is so and so. + +Note 42, page 109: The "Papoose on the old Squaw's Back" is a tiny star, +Alcor, very close to the star Mizar which forms the bend in the handle +of the Big Dipper. To see this tiny star is a test for eyesight. The +Sioux Indians say that the Big Dipper is four warriors carrying a +funeral bier, followed by a train of mourners. The second star in the +train (or the star in the bend) is the widow of the slain brave, with +her little child, or the Little Sister, weeping beside her! + +The Blackfeet and other Indians say that the Pole Star (which does not +move) is a hole in the sky, through which streams the light from the +magical country beyond. They call it "the star that stands still." + +By the "Lost Children" Jim Bridger meant the Pleiades. These stars, +forming a cluster or nebula, sink below the western horizon in the +spring and do not appear in the sky again until autumn; and the +following is the reason why. They were once six children in a Blackfeet +camp. The Blackfeet hunters had killed many buffalo, and among them some +buffalo calves. The little yellow hides of the buffalo calves were given +to the children of the camp to play with, but six of the children were +poor and did not get any. The other children made much fun of the six, +and plagued them so that they drove them out of the camp. After +wandering ashamed and afraid on the prairie, the six finally were taken +up into the sky. So they are not seen in the spring and summer, when the +buffalo calves are yellow; but in the autumn and winter, when the +buffalo calves are black, they come out. + +Nearly everybody can see the six stars of the Pleiades, and good +eyesight can make out seven. By turning the head and gazing sideways the +seven are made plainer. An English girl has eyesight so remarkable that +she has counted twelve. + +The Western Indians have had names for many of the stars and the planets +and the constellations, and the night sky has been of much company and +use to them and to the old plainsmen and mountaineers, just as it was to +Jim Bridger at this time. + +Mars is "Big-Fire-Star"; Jupiter is "Morning Star," or when evening star +is "The Lance"; Venus is "Day Star," because sometimes it is so bright +that it can be seen in the day. Scouts should know by the almanac what +is the morning star, and then when it rises over the camp or the trail +they are told that morning is at hand. + +Note 43, page 110: Sunday comes to the trail, to the mountains and +plains and field and forest, just as often as to the town and the farm. +The Scout will feel much better, mentally and physically, when he +observes Sunday. This one day in the seven can be made different by a +change from the ordinary routine: by a good cleaning up; by only a short +march, just enough for exercise; by a whole day in camp, if possible; by +an avoidance of harm to bird or beast; by some _especial_ arrangement, +which will say, "This is Sunday." The real Jedediah Smith, fur-hunter +and explorer, found as much profit in his Bible as in his rifle, amidst +the wilderness; and the Scout of to-day should include the Bible in the +outfit. It reads well out in the great open, it is full of nature lore +of sky and water and earth, and it is a great comforter and sweetener of +trail and camp. + + +CHAPTER X + +Note 44, page 112: The smoke signal has been in use for many, many +years. The Indians of the West used it much, and whenever an army +detachment or other strangers traversed the plains and the hills their +course was marked by the smoke signals of Indian scouts. To make smoke +signals, first a moderate blaze is started; then damp or green stuff is +piled on, for a smudge; and the column of smoke is cut into puffs by a +blanket or coat held over like a cup and suddenly jerked off. A high +place should be selected for the smoke signal, so as to distinguish it +from the ordinary camp-fire, which is not as a rule made on a high +place,--that is, in hostile country. A still day is necessary for +accurate smoke signaling. This signaling is being recommended for the +United States Forestry Service, so that Rangers and Guards can +telegraph warnings and news by the Morse or the Army and Navy alphabet. +A short puff would be the dot, a long puff the dash; or one short puff +would be "1," two short puffs close together "2," and a long puff "3." +This Army and Navy code is explained under Note 48. + +The Indians had secret codes, for the smoke signals; and used dense +smokes and thin smokes, both. Green pine and spruce and fire boughs +raise a thick black smoke. + +In army scouting on the plains the following signals were customary: + +"Wish to communicate." Three smokes side by side. + +"Enemy discovered." Two puffs, repeated at fifteen-minute intervals. Boy +Scouts need not have the intervals so long. One minute is enough, for a +standard. + +"Many enemy discovered." Three puffs, at intervals. + +"Come to council," or "Join forces." Four puffs, repeated. + +"March to the north." Two smokes, of two puffs each. + +"March to the south." Two smokes, of three puffs each. + +"March to the east." Three smokes, of two puffs each. + +"March to the west." Three smokes, of three puffs each. + +Plainsmen and woodsmen understand the following signals also: + +"Camp is here." One smoke, one puff at intervals. + +"Help. I am lost." Two fires, occasional single puffs. + +"Good news." Three steady smokes. + +Scouts' patrols can invent their own code of smokes, by number of +smokes, by puffs, and by intervals between puffs. Of course, the single +fire is much more easily managed by one person. + +Note 45, page 116: The Red Fox Scouts probably carried with them a +liquid carbolic and antiseptic soap, which comes put up in small +bottles with patent shaker stoppers. A few drops of this in some water +makes a splendid wash for wounds, and is harmless. Druggists and +surgical supply stores can furnish Scouts with this soap. Being +non-poisonous, good for a gargle as well as for external use, it is +superior to many other antiseptic washes. A spool of surgeons' adhesive +tape, say three-quarter inch wide, a roll of sterilized absorbent +cotton, and a roll of sterilized gauze will of course be included in the +Scouts' first-aid kit. + + +CHAPTER XI + +Note 46, page 124: Bichloride of mercury is a strong antiseptic, and +much favored for disinfecting dishes and other vessels used by sick +people. It is convenient to carry, in a form known as Bernay's tablets. +They come white or blue, and one is dissolved in water to make a +solution. They are very poisonous, internally, and Scouts must look out +that none of the solution enters the stomach. Of course, there are many +antiseptic substances for washing wounds: potash and borax are good, +especially in the form of potassium permanganate and boric acid. +Anything in a tablet or a powdery form is easier to pack than anything +in a liquid form. Wounds must be kept surgically clean, which means +"aseptic" or perfectly free of poisoning microbes, or else there may be +blood-poisoning. So Scouts should be careful that their fingers and +whatever else touches a wound also are surgically clean, by being washed +well in some antiseptic. Cloths and knife blades, etc., can be made +clean by being boiled for ten minutes. + + +CHAPTER XII + +Note 47, page 133: When a Scout would climb a tree which looks hard, +particularly a large-trunk tree, he can work a scheme by connecting his +ankles with a soft rope or a handkerchief, or the like, measuring about +two thirds around the trunk. Then when he hitches up along the trunk he +gets a splendid purchase. Several strands of rope are better than one, +so that they will not slip. And if the rope or cloth is wet, it will +stick better. + +Note 48, page 140: All Scouts should know how to wigwag messages. There +are three alphabets which may be used in telegraphing by wigwagging with +a flag or with the cap: the American Morse, such as is used in this +country by the regular telegraph, the Continental Morse, and the Army +and Navy. The American Morse is dots and dashes and spaces; but the +Continental Morse is different, because it does not have any spaces. It +is employed in Europe and in submarine cable work. The United States +Army and Navy have their own wigwag alphabet, which is named the Myer +alphabet, in compliment to Brevet Brigadier-General Albert J. Myer, the +first chief signal officer of the Army, appointed in 1860. Commonly the +system is known as the Army and Navy. + +Scouts will find that knowing the American Morse or dot-and-dash +telegraph signs will be of much value because these can be used both in +wigwag and in electric-wire work; but Scouts to be of assistance to +their country in military time must know the Army and Navy alphabet, +which is easier to learn. + +Instead of the dot and the dash and the space, the figures 1, 2, and 3 +are used. The figure 1, like the wigwag dot, is a quick sweep of the +flag to the right, from the perpendicular to the level of the waist, or +one quarter of a circle. The figure 2 is a similar sweep to the left. +The figure 3 is a "front," or sweeping the flag straight down, before, +and instantly returning it to the upright again. The perpendicular or +upright is the beginning of every motion. The "front" ends things: +words, sentences, messages, etc. + +Here is the Army and Navy alphabet: "A," you see, would be dip to left, +and return; to left, and return. "B," a left, a right, a right, and a +left. + +A 22 +B 2112 +C 121 +D 222 +E 12 +F 2221 +G 2211 +H 122 +I 1 +J 1122 +K 2121 +L 221 +M 1221 +N 11 +O 21 +P 1212 +Q 1211 +R 211 +S 212 +T 2 +U 112 +V 1222 +W 1121 +X 2122 +Y 111 +Z 2222 + +FIGS. + +1 1111 +2 2222 +3 1112 +4 2221 +5 1122 +6 2211 +7 1222 +8 2111 +9 1221 +0 2112 + +ABBREVIATIONS + +a is for after +b before +c can +h have +n not +r are +t the +u you +ur your +w word +wi with +y yes +1112 tion + +SIGNS + +End of word 3 +End of sentence 33 +End of message 333 +Numerals follow (or end) X X 3 +Signature follows Sig 3 +Error E E 3 +I understand (O. K.) A A 3 +Cease signaling A A A 333 +Cipher follows (or ends) X C 3 +Wait a moment 1111 3 +Repeat after (word) C C 3 A 3 (give word) +Repeat last word C C 33 +Repeat last message C C C 333 +Move little to right R R 3 +Move little to left L L 3 +Signal faster 2212 3 +Permission granted P G 3 +Permission not granted N G 3 + +The address in full of a message is considered as one sentence, ended by +3 or a "front," and return to perpendicular. + +This Army and Navy alphabet is easier to read, because it does away with +the pausing or lengthening of the motions, to make the spaces which help +to form some of the Morse letters. Every letter is reeled straight off +without a break. + +Two flags are used in wigwagging. A white flag with a red square in the +center is used against a dark background; a red flag with a white square +in the center is used against the sky or against a mixed background. But +of course in emergency anything must be tried, and for a short distance +the Scout can use his hat or cap, or handkerchief, or even his arm +alone. The motions should be sharp and quick and distinct, with a +perpendicular between each motion and a "front" between words. The Army +rate with the large service flag is five or six words a minute. + +The beam of a searchlight is used just as a flag is used, to sweep +upward for "perpendicular," downward for "front," and to right and to +left. Another system of night signaling is by lantern or torch; but it +should be swung from the knees up and out, for right or 1, up and out in +opposite direction for left, or 2, and raised straight up for "front" or +3. Four electric lamps in a row, which flash red and white in various +combinations, colored fires, bombs and rockets, also make night signals. + +For daytime signaling the United States Army favors the mirror or +heliograph (sun-writing) system. The 1 is a short flash, the 2 is two +short flashes, the 3 is a long, steady flash. This system can be read +through 100 and 150 miles. + +The United States Navy employs a two-arm or a two-flag system, which by +different slants and angles of the arms or flags signals by the Army and +Navy code. It is called the Semaphore system--like the semaphore block +signals of railroads. It is more convenient for windy weather, because +the flags are shorter and smaller than the flags of the three-motion +wigwag. + +Scouts should have in their library a copy of the United States Signal +Corps booklet, "Manual of Visual Signaling," which can be had at a small +price from the Government Printing Office at Washington. This tells all +about the different systems of day and night signaling, and shows +alphabets, signal flags, codes, ciphers, and so forth. + +The Indians of the plains and mountains have had systems of signaling as +perfect as those of the Army and Navy. In early days of the Army on the +plains, the Indians passed news along among themselves over long +distances faster than it was passed by the military telegraph. They used +a smoke code; and they used also mirror-flashes, blanket-waving, +pony-running, foot-running, and hand gestures. + +Their secret signals were never told; no threats or bribes could make an +Indian divulge his tribal or his band code. Not even the white men who +lived with the Indians could learn it. Once some Army officers watched a +Sioux chief, posted on a little knoll, drill his red cavalry for an +hour, without a word or a gesture; all he used was a little +looking-glass held in the palm of his hand. + +However, some of the signs were general. A tremulous motion or flash +meant game or enemy. Several quick flashes, close together, meant "Come +on." A beam to the left meant "By the left"; to the right meant "By the +right." + +When looking for buffalo, the number of flashes would tell how many +bands of buffalo were sighted, and a quivering motion would bid the +hunters to "Come on." + +Scouts will find some blanket signs handy. If the blanket is too large +to manage, fold it once. + +"Who are you?" Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, and +bend with it far to the right and to the left. + +"We want peace." Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, +and bending forward lay it flat upon the ground. + +"Keep away," or "No." Hold up the blanket, grasping the two upper +corners. Cross the arms, still with hands grasping the corners. Bring +right arm back to front and right, almost opening the blanket again. +Repeat. + +"Go back" or "Hide." Hold up blanket by two corners opposite right +shoulder, and swing it to right and down, several times. + +"Alarm!" Toss the blanket several times, as high as possible. + +"Something (or somebody) in sight." Hold up blanket by the two corners +opposite right shoulder. Then swing the right corner around to left and +to right. Repeat. + +"Come on" or "Approach." Hold blanket up by two upper corners in front +of the body. Swing the right arm and corner to the left. Repeat. + +Pony-running signals are usually in a circle, or forward and backward, +on the side of a hill or the crest. If the movements are fast, then the +news is exciting and important. If they are made in full view of the +surrounding country, then the danger is not close. If they are made +under cover, then the danger is near. If they are made under cover and +the rider suddenly stops and hides, then everybody must hide, or +retreat, for the enemy is too strong. The bigger the movements, the +more the enemy or the more the game. A dodging zigzag course shows that +the scout is pursued or apt to be pursued. A furious riding back and +forth along a crest means that a war party is returning successful. Boy +Scouts can make the motions on foot, and by a code of circles and figure +eights, etc., can signal many things. + +Signals by the hand and arm alone are convenient to know. + +"Who are you?" is made by waving the right hand to right and to left in +quick succession. + +"We are friends" is made by raising both hands and grasping the left +with the right, as if shaking hands. + +"We are enemies" is made by placing the right fist against the forehead, +and turning it from side to side. + +"Halt" or "Keep away" is made by raising the right hand, palm to the +front, and moving it forward and back. + +"Come" is made by raising right hand, back to front, and beckoning with +a wide sweep forward and in again, repeating. + +For distance two-arm signals are better than one-arm; and Scouts should +have a short code in two-arms. Both arms stretched wide may mean "Go +back" or "Halt"; both arms partly dropped may mean "No," partly raised +may mean "Yes." And so on. These were plain signals. + +Note 49, page 141: A sprain, such as a sprained wrist or ankle, for +instance, is a serious injury, and must not be made light of or +neglected. If not properly and promptly treated, it is likely to leave +the cords or ligaments permanently weak. When treatment may begin at +once, the injured joint should be laid bare, even if by cutting the shoe +instead of unlacing it and pulling it off, and the coldest water should +be applied lavishly. The joint may well be plunged into an icy spring or +stream, or held under a running faucet. If the joint can be kept +elevated, so that the blood will not flow into it so readily, so much +the better. + +If some distance has to be covered before the injured person arrives in +reach of treatment, the shoe might as well remain on, to act as a +bandage and a support--although it probably will have to be cut off +later. If the joint is not the ankle joint, a tight, stout bandage +should be fastened around. Nobody should try to step upon his sprained +ankle or use his sprained wrist, or whatever joint it may be. + +After swelling has set in very hot water is said to be superior to very +cold water; the very hot and the very cold have much the same effect, +anyway. But the water application should be kept up for at least +twenty-four hours, and the wounded place must not be moved one particle +for several days. When the time comes to move it, it should be wrapped +with a supporting bandage. + +General Ashley probably had a hard time with his neglected ankle. + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Note 50, page 147: The cache (which is a French word and is pronounced +"cash") or hiding-place is a genuine scout invention. Long ago the +trappers and traders of the plains and mountains, when they had more +pelts or more supplies than they could readily carry, would "cache" +them. The favorite way was to dig a hole, and gradually enlarge it +underground, like a jug. The dirt was laid upon a blanket and emptied +into a stream, so that it would not be noticed. Then the hole was lined +with dry sticks or with blankets, the pelts or supplies were packed +inside, and covered with buffalo robe or tarpaulin; and the earth was +tamped in solidly. Next a fire was built on top, that the ashes might +deceive Indians and animals. Or the tent or lodge was erected over the +spot for a few days. At any rate, all traces of the hiding-place were +wiped out, and landmarks were noted well. + +It was considered a serious offense for one white man to molest the +cache of another white man, unless to save his own life. And to rob a +cache of the furs was worse than stealing horses. + +All caches were not alike. Some were holes, others were caves into +banks. When Scouts of to-day make a cache, they must record the location +exceedingly well and close, or they are apt to lose the spot. It seems +very easy to remember trees and rocks and all; but anybody who has laid +a rabbit down, while he chased another, and then has thought to go +straight and pick it up again--or anybody who has searched for a +golf-ball when he knew exactly where it lit--will realize that a cache +may be very tricky. + +Note 51, page 152: The homeopathic preparation of aconite is highly +recommended by many woodsmen and other travelers as a good thing to have +in the trail medicine kit. A few drops will kill a fever or a cold. +Dover's Powder (in small doses, by causing perspiration and thus +checking a fever or throwing off a cold), quinine, calomel (for +biliousness and to clean out the intestines when they are clogged with +waste and mucus), Epsom salts or castor oil (to clean out the bowels +also), an emetic, like sirup of ipecac (to empty the stomach quickly in +case of emergency), some mustard for making a plaster for the chest (in +croupiness or cold inside the chest), or for mixing with warm water to +make an emetic, extract of ginger or sirup of ginger (for summer +complaint and griping looseness of the bowels if long continued), +perhaps some soda mint tablets (for sour stomach caused by overeating), +are other simple remedies. Of course the Scout should learn to read the +little clinical thermometer, and one should be carried in the trail kit. + +It is much better to know exactly how to use a few simple standard +remedies, than to experiment with a lot of powerful drugs and very +likely make terrible mistakes. To give a medicine without being certain +just why and just what it will do is as bad as pointing a gun at +somebody without knowing whether or not it is loaded. Doctors study hard +for years, before they begin to practice; and Scouts cannot expect to +make doctors of themselves in a few months. Head cool, feet warm, bowels +open, moderate eating--these are United States Army rules, and Scouts' +rules too. "An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure"! +Scouts who take care of their bodies properly will rarely need medicine, +and should be proud of the fact. + +Note 52, page 153: In 1909, in California alone, out of 388 forest fires +243, or almost two thirds, were caused by human beings' carelessness; +and 119, or almost one third, were caused by camp-fires! The money loss +to the state was $1,000,000; but this was not all the damage. A forest, +or a single tree, is not replaced in a year, or in ten years; and the +stately evergreen trees grow slowest of all. + +California claims that if a few plain rules were observed, in that state +alone 500 out of 575 forest fires would not occur. Some of these rules +are: + +1. Never throw aside matches, or lighted or smoldering stuff, where +anything can possibly catch from it. + +2. Camp-fires should be as small as will serve. (Most campers build +fires too large, and against trees or logs whence they will be sure to +spread.) + +3. Don't build fires in leaves, rotten wood or sawdust, or pine needles. + +4. Don't build fires against large or hollow logs where it is hard to +see that they are not put out. They eat in. + +5. Don't build fires under low evergreens, or where a flame may leap to +a branch, or sparks light upon a branch. + +6. In windy weather and in dangerous places camp-fires should be +confined in trenches, or an open spot be chosen and the ground first +cleared of all vegetable matter. + +7. Never leave a fire, even for a short time, until you are certain that +it is out. Wet it thoroughly, to the bottom, or else stamp it out and +pile on sand or dirt. + +8. Never pass by a fire in grass, brush, or timber, which is unguarded +and which you can see is likely to spread. Extinguish it; or if it is +beyond your control, notify the nearest ranch, town, or forest official. + +These regulations are for Boy Scouts to remember and to observe, no +matter where the trail leads. + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Note 53, page 161: A fire line is a cleared strip, sometimes only ten, +sometimes, where the brush is thick, as much as sixty feet wide, running +through the timber and the bushes, as a check to the blaze. An old +wood-road, or a regular wagon-road, or a logging-trail, or a pack-trail +is used as a fire line, when possible; but when a fire line must be +cleared especially, it is laid from bare spot to bare spot and along +the tops of ridges. A fire travels very fast up-hill, but works slowly +in getting across. Scouts should remember this important fact: The +steeper the hill, the swifter the fire will climb it. + +There are three kinds of forest fires: Surface fires, which burn just +the upper layer of dry leaves and dry grass, brush, and small trees; +ground fires, which burn deep amidst sawdust or pine needles or peat; +and crown fires, which travel through the tops of the trees. Fires start +as surface fires, and then can be beaten out with coats and sacks and +shovels, and stopped by hoe and spade and plow. The ground fire does not +look dangerous, but it is, and it is hard to get at. Crown fires are +surface fires which have climbed into the trees and are borne along in +prodigious leaps by the wind. They are the most vicious and the worst to +fight. + +The duty of Scouts is to jump upon a surface fire and kill it before it +becomes a sly ground fire or a raving crown fire. + +Note 54, page 171: Even the best surgeons nowadays "fuss" with deep +wounds as little as possible. They clean the deep wound, by washing it +as well as they can, to remove dirt and other loose foreign particles; +then they cover gently with a sterilized pad, and bandage, to keep +microbes away, and Nature does the rest. In the days when our fathers +were boys, salves and arnica and all kinds of messy stuff were used; but +the world has found that all Nature asks is a chance to go ahead, +herself, without interference. + +Unless a bullet, even, is lodged where it irritates a nerve or a muscle +or disturbs the workings of some organ of the body, the surgeon is apt +to let it stay, until Nature has tried to throw a wall about it and +enclose it out of the way. + +So the less a Scout pokes at a deep wound, the better. He can wash it +out with hot water, and maybe can pick out particles of visible dirt or +splinters with forceps which have been boiled for ten minutes. Then he +can bandage it loosely, and wait for Nature or a surgeon. + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Note 55, page 186: The Elks by this time had lost their pack-saddles and +panniers, which had been cached with other stuff after the two burros +were stolen by the renegades. They had lost also their lash ropes with +the cinchas; so that it was necessary to throw some pack-hitch that did +not require a cincha and hook. One of the easiest of such hitches is the +squaw-hitch. The tarps were spread out and the camp stuff was folded in +so that the result was a large, soft pad, with nothing to hurt Apache's +back. Then the hitch was thrown with one of the ropes, as follows: + +[Illustration: Fig. I.] + +[Illustration: Fig. II.] + +[Illustration: Fig. III.] + +Figure I is a double bight, which is laid over the top of the pack, so +that the two loops hang, well down, half on each side. "X"-"Y" is the +animal's back. Take the end of the rope, "c," and pass it under the +animal's belly, and through loop "a" on the other side; pass rope end +"d" under and through loop "b," the same way. Next bring them back to +the first side again, and through the middle place "e," as shown by +dotted lines of Figure II. Keep all the ropes well separated, where they +bite into the pack and into the animal's stomach, and draw taut, and +fasten with a hitch at "e." The result will look like Figure III. + +The diamond hitch _can_ be tied by using a loop instead of the cincha +hook. + +Note 56, page 193: Pack animals and saddle-horses do much better on the +trail if they can be permitted to graze free, or only hobbled. They like +to forage about for themselves, and usually will eat more and better +grass than when tied by a picket rope. During the first three or four +days out, horse or mule is apt to wander back to the home pasture. +Hobbles can be bought or made. When bought, they are broad, flexible +strips of leather about eighteen inches long, with cuffs which buckle +around each fore leg above the hoof. Hobbles can be made on the spot by +twisting soft rope from fore leg to fore leg and tying the ends by +lapping in the middle. + +It is safer to picket a horse by a rope upon the neck rather than upon +the leg. He is not so apt to injure himself by pulling or running. A +picket rope is forty feet long. To loop it securely about the neck, +measure with the end about the neck, and at the proper place along the +rope tie a single knot; knot the end of the rope, and passing it about +the neck thrust the knotted end through the single knot. Here is a loop +that cannot slip and choke the horse, and can easily be untied. + +Sometimes the loose end of the picket rope may be fastened to a tree, or +to a bush. A horse should be picketed out from trees, or in the center +of an open space, so that he cannot wind the rope about a tree and hold +himself too short to graze. Sometimes the free end is fastened to a +stake or picket-pin driven into the ground. But if there is no pin, and +no tree or bush is handy, then a "dead-man" may be used. This is an old +scout scheme. The rope is tied to a stick eighteen inches long, or to a +bunch of sticks, or to a bunch of brush, or to a stone; and this buried +a foot and a half or two feet, and the earth or sand tamped upon it. +Thus it is wedged fast against any ordinary pull. By this scheme a horse +may be picketed out on the bare desert. + +When an animal is allowed to graze free, a good plan is to have a loose +rope twenty or thirty feet in length trail from his neck as he grazes. +This is another scout scheme, used by Indians, trappers, and cowboys. +When the animal declines to be bridled or grasped by the mane, the +trailing rope usually can be caught up. Indians and trappers when riding +depended much upon this trailing rope, so that when thrown they could +grab it instantly, and mount again. + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Note 57, page 206: Flowers as well as animals have their place and their +rights; and they as well as the animals help to make the great +out-of-doors different from the in-doors. A Scout never destroys +anything uselessly or "for fun." + +Note 58, page 211: Scouts should learn how to repair dislocations of the +jaw, the finger, and the shoulder, as these are the least difficult and +the most frequent. A dislocation can be told from a fracture of the bone +by a twisting of the hand or the foot, and by a shortening or a +lengthening of the arm or leg, according to whether the head of the bone +has slipped _up_ from the socket, or _down_. And there is neither +feeling nor sound of the broken bones grating against each other. _But +never go ahead blindly._ + +A Scout who dislocates his own hip, far from help, should try lashing +his leg to a tree, and on his back, clasping another tree, should pull +himself forward with all his strength. But a dislocation of the knee is +much more delicate to manage, and with that or a dislocated elbow the +Scout can contrive to get to a surgeon. + +Note 59, page 214: Yes, Scouts can always manage. The quickest way to +make a blanket stretcher is to double the blanket, tie each pair of +corners with a non-slipping knot, and pass a pole through the fold on +one edge and through the knotted corners of the other. The quickest way +to make a coat stretcher is to take two coats, turn the sleeves of one +or of both inside, lay the coats inside up, or sleeves up, with the +tails touching at the edges. Thrust a pole through each line of sleeves, +and button each coat over the poles. + +Three or four belts or other straps such as camera straps slung between +poles form an emergency litter or seat; and a man who can sit up can be +carried in a chair made by a pole or rifle thrust through the sleeves of +a coat, and the coat-tail tied fast to another pole or rifle. + +When an injured person is too sore to be moved from blanket to litter, +an old scout method is this: Three cross-pieces or short poles are +lashed to connect the two long poles or side poles. One short piece +forms each end and one crosses the middle, thus: + +[Illustration] + +This frame is lowered over the patient, and the blanket that he is on is +fastened to its edges. Then when the litter is ready, he is in it +already! The middle cross-piece is handy for him to grasp, for steadying +himself. + +Small stones rolled in the corners of blankets make a purchase for the +wrappings, and the knots will not slip. + +Scouts may make chairs by clasping hands; but an easy way is to have the +patient sit upon a short board or short pole resting in the hollow of +the bearers' arms. + +In smooth country, and when the sick or wounded person is not too badly +off, the Indian and trapper "travois" or horse litter may be employed. +Two elastic poles about fifteen feet long are united by cross-pieces, +ladder style; and with two ends slung one upon either side of the horse, +and the other two ends dragging, are trailed along behind the horse. The +poles should be springy, so as to lessen the jar from rough places. + +If there is another steady horse, the rear ends of the litter can be +slung upon it, instead of resting on the ground. This is another old +scout and Indian method. + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Note 60, page 216: "Jerked" meat is another genuinely scout institution, +and has been well known to Indians and trappers and hunters in the West +since early times. The air of the Western plains and mountains is very +dry and pure. Venison or bear-meat or beef, when raw may be cut into +strips two fingers wide, a half or three quarters of an inch thick, and +six or seven inches long, and hung up in the sun. In about three days it +is hard and leathery, and may be carried about until eaten. It may be +eaten by chewing at it as it is, or it may be fried. Scouts will find +that, while traveling, a couple of slices of this jerked meat, chewed +and swallowed, keeps up the strength finely. + +When a camp is in a hurry, the meat may be strung over a slow fire, to +make it dry faster; and it may be cured faster yet by smoking, as the +Elks cured it. Some persons use salt; and if they have time they +sprinkle the pile of strips, when fresh, with salt, and fold them in the +animal's green hide, to pickle and sweat for twenty-four hours. But salt +is not needed; and of course the Indians and the old-time scout trappers +never had salt. Trappers sometimes used a sprinkle of gunpowder for +salt; and that is an army makeshift, too. + +After a buffalo hunt the Indian villages were all festooned with jerked +meat, strung on scaffolds and among the teepees. Traders and emigrants +jerked the meat by stringing it along the outside of their wagons and +drying it while on the move. + +Note 61, page 217: This is the Indian and trapper method of dressing +skins, and is easy for any Scout of to-day. The skin is stretched, hair +side down, between pegs, or over a smooth bowlder or log, while it is +fresh or green, and with a knife or bone, not too sharp, is scraped +until the mucus-like thin inner coating is scraped away. This is called +"graining." In the old-time scout's lodge or camp there always was a +"graining block"--a smooth stump or log set up for the pelts to fit over +while being scraped. Do not scrape so deep as to cut the roots of the +hair. Next the pelt is dried. Then it is covered with a mixture of the +brains and pure water, and soaked, and it is rubbed and worked with both +hands until the brains have been rubbed in and until the skin is rubbed +dry and soft. Next it is laid over a willow frame, or hung up, open, and +smoked for twelve hours or so. Now it is soft and unchangeable, +forever. + +When white clay or gypsum was near, the Indians would mix that with +water until the fluid was the color of milk and four times as thick. +Before the skin was smoked it was smeared plentifully with this, and +allowed to dry. Then it was rubbed a long time, until it was soft and +flexible and the clay had all been rubbed away. This took out the stains +and made the skin white. + +Note 62, page 222: Aluminum is not dangerous to cook in. Tin sometimes +unites with acids in foods, or in certain liquids, and gives off a +poison. Tin also rusts, but aluminum does not. And aluminum is much the +lighter in weight, and is a better heat conductor, therefore cooking +quicker. + +Note 63, page 223: "Levez!" is what the old-time scouts-trappers ought +to have said. It is the French for "Rise! Get up!" But some trappers +said "Leve! Leve!" and some called "Lave!" thinking that they were using +the Spanish verb "Lavar," meaning to wash. + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Note 64, page 236: Scouts should bear in mind that practically every +illness demands a cleaning out of the bowels, by a prompt laxative or by +a mild cathartic, in the very beginning. This carries off the poisons +that feed the illness. And Scouts should bear in mind that for a pain +which indicates appendicitis, an ice-cold pack and not a hot pack is the +proper application. The ice-cold pack drives the blood away from the +appendix, and keeps it more normal until the surgeon can arrive. A hot +pack draws the blood to the region and congests or swells the appendix +all the more. Irritated thus, the appendix is apt to burst. The prompt +attention to the bowels is _always_ necessary. + + +CHAPTER XX + +Note 65, page 251: In the dark a horse or mule will smell out the trail +where other horses and mules have passed. The mule has been supposed to +have a better nose than the horse, for trails and for water--and for +Indians. In the camps of emigrants and trappers and other overland +travelers, of the old days, the mules would smell approaching Indians +and give the alarm. + + +CHAPTER XXI + +Note 66, page 260: Among the Western Indians their scouts were +especially selected young men, and these were likened to wolves. They +were instructed "to be wise as well as brave; to look not only to the +front, but to the right and left, behind them, and at the ground; to +watch carefully the movements of all wild animals, from buffalo to +birds; to wind through ravines and the beds of streams; to walk on hard +ground or where there is grass, so as to leave no trail; to move with +great care so as not to disturb any wild animals; and to return with +much speed should they discover anything to report." When the scout +returned with news of a war-party, he howled like a wolf. + +"To scout" was the wolf sign, with the hand turning to right and to left +and downward, like wolf ears pricking in all directions. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL*** + + +******* This file should be named 20710-8.txt or 20710-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Sabin</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: gray; + text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; + border: 1px solid silver; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + /* horizontal rules present in text */ + hr.full {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.major {width: 75%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width: 30%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + /* title block present in text */ + td.pr {padding-right: 10px; vertical-align: top;} + p.titleblock {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-indent: 0; text-align: center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Pluck on the Long Trail, by Edwin L. Sabin, +Illustrated by Clarence H. Rowe</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Pluck on the Long Trail</p> +<p> Boy Scouts in the Rockies</p> +<p>Author: Edwin L. Sabin</p> +<p>Release Date: February 28, 2007 [eBook #20710]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/c/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<table summary="" width="300" style="font-size: smaller; border-collapse:collapse; border: 1px solid black;"> +<tr><td style="text-align:center; font-size: 160%; border-bottom:1px solid black;">THE BOY SCOUT SERIES</td></tr> +<tr><td> +<div style="margin-left:5%; margin-right:5%;"> +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em;"><b>Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods</b><br /> +By <span class="smcap">James Otis</span>. Illustrated by Charles Copeland.</p> +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em;"><b>Along the Mohawk Trail; or, Boy Scouts on Lake Champlain</b><br /> +By <span class="smcap">Percy K. Fitzhugh</span>. Illustrated by Remington Schuyler.</p> +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em;"><b>Pluck on the Long Trail; or, Boy Scouts in the Rockies</b><br /> +By <span class="smcap">Edwin L. Sabin</span>. Illustrated by Clarence Rowe.</p> +<p class="center"><i>Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.25 postpaid.</i></p> +<p class="blockquot" style="font-size:90%;">A series of wholesome, realistic, entertaining stories for boys by +writers who have a thorough knowledge of Boy Scouts and of real scouting +in the sections of the country in which the scenes of their books are +laid.</p> +</div></td></tr> +<tr style=" border-top:1px solid black; text-align:center; font-size:120%;"><td>THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt=""'YOU GIT!' HE ORDERED." See page 123." title="" width="372" height="573" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"'YOU GIT!' HE ORDERED." See page 123.</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<table width="400" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="" border="0"><tr><td> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-top: 30px; font-size: 180%; margin-bottom: 0px;">PLUCK ON THE</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 180%; margin-bottom: 20px;">LONG TRAIL</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: 20px;">OR</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 160%; margin-bottom: 40px;">Boy Scouts in the Rockies</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 120%; margin-bottom: 20px;">BY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 140%; margin-bottom: 20px;">EDWIN L. SABIN</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom: 20px;">AUTHOR OF "BAR B BOYS," "RANGE AND TRAIL," "CIRCLE K," ETC.</p> +<p style="font-size: 80%; font-style:italic; margin-bottom: 40px;">It's honor Flag and Country dear, and hold them in the van;<br /> +It's keep your lungs and conscience clean, your body spick and span;<br /> +It's "shoulders squared" and "be prepared," and always "play the man";<br /> +Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; font-style:italic;">ILLUSTRATED BY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom: 80px; font-style:italic;">CLARENCE H. ROWE</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%;">NEW YORK</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%;">THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: 30px;">PUBLISHERS</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<p class="center" style="font-size:smaller;">Copyright, 1912, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thomas Y. Crowell Company</span></p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h3>TO SCOUTS</h3> + +<p>Scouts in America have a high honor to maintain, for the American scout +has always been the best in the world. He is noted as being keen, quick, +cautious, and brave. He teaches himself, and he is willing to be taught +by others. He is known and respected. Even in the recent war in South +Africa between Great Britain and the Boers, it was Major Frederick +Russell Burnham, an American, once a boy in Iowa, who was the English +Chief of Scouts. Major Burnham is said to be the greatest modern scout.</p> + +<p>The information in this book is based upon thoroughly American +scoutcraft as practiced by Indians, trappers, and soldiers of the +old-time West, and by mountaineers, plainsmen, and woodsmen of to-day.</p> + +<p>As the true-hearted scout should readily acknowledge favor and help, so +I will say that for the diagram of the squaw hitch and of the diamond +hitch I am indebted to an article by Mr. Stewart Edward White in +<i>Outing</i> of 1907, and one by Mr. I. J. Bush in <i>Recreation</i> of 1911; for +the "medicine song" and several of the star legends, to that Blackfeet +epic, "The Old North Trail," by Walter McClintock; for medical and +surgical hints, to Dr. Charles Moody's "Backwoods Surgery and Medicine" +and to the American Red Cross "First Aid" text-book; for some of the +lore, to personal experiences; and for much of it, to various old army, +hunting, and explorer scout-books, long out of print, written when good +scouting meant not only daily food, travel, and shelter, but daily life +itself.</p> + +<p style="text-align:right;">E. L. S.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>BOOK KIT</h2> + +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> + +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right"><span style="font-size:smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align="right"><span style="font-size:smaller">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">I</td> + <td align="left">THE LONG TRAIL</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">II</td> + <td align="left">THE NIGHT ATTACK</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">III</td> + <td align="left">THE BIG TROUT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">21</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">IV</td> + <td align="left">THE BEAVER MAN</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">31</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">V</td> + <td align="left">TWO RECRUITS</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VI</td> + <td align="left">A DISASTROUS DOZE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">54</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VII</td> + <td align="left">HELD BY THE ENEMY</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">69</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VIII</td> + <td align="left">A NEW USE FOR A CAMERA</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">IX</td> + <td align="left">JIM BRIDGER ON THE TRAIL</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">X</td> + <td align="left">THE RED FOX PATROL</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XI</td> + <td align="left">THE MAN AT THE DUG-OUT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XII</td> + <td align="left">FOILING THE FIRE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">133</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XIII</td> + <td align="left">ORDERS FROM THE PRESIDENT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XIV</td> + <td align="left">THE CAPTURE OF THE BEAVER MAN</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XV</td> + <td align="left">GENERAL ASHLEY DROPS OUT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">179</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XVI</td> + <td align="left">A BURRO IN BED</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XVII</td> + <td align="left">VAN SANT'S LAST CARTRIDGE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">199</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XVIII</td> + <td align="left">FITZ THE BAD HAND'S GOOD THROW</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">216</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XIX</td> + <td align="left">MAJOR HENRY SAYS "OUCH"</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XX</td> + <td align="left">A FORTY-MILE RIDE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XXI</td> + <td align="left">THE LAST DASH</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">258</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h2>Scout Notes</h2> + +<table summary="Scout Notes" width="400" border="0"> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">1.</td><td>On Old-Time Scouts</td><td><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">2.</td><td>On Taking a Message to Garcia</td><td><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">3.</td><td>On Socks and Feet</td><td><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">4.</td><td>On the Tarpaulin Bed-Sheet</td><td><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">5.</td><td>On the Diamond Hitch</td><td><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">6.</td><td>On the Indian Bow and Arrow</td><td><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">7.</td><td>On the Lariat or Rope</td><td><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">8.</td><td>On Neatness and the War-bag</td><td><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">9.</td><td>On Tea</td><td><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">10.</td><td>On the Medicine Kit</td><td><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">11.</td><td>On the Straight-foot Walk</td><td><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">12.</td><td>On Sign Language</td><td><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">13.</td><td>On Sign for Bird Flying</td><td><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">14.</td><td>On Making the Tarp Bed</td><td><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">15.</td><td>On the Reflector Oven—and a Shovel</td><td><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">16.</td><td>On a Whistle Code</td><td><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">17.</td><td>On Brushing Teeth and Hair</td><td><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">18.</td><td>On Snagging Fish</td><td><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">19.</td><td>On Drying Boots</td><td><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">20.</td><td>On Records and Maps</td><td><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">21.</td><td>On Right or Left Footedness</td><td><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">22.</td><td>On Weather Warnings</td><td><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">23.</td><td>On Watching Teeth</td><td><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">24.</td><td>On Lightning</td><td><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">25.</td><td>On Bedding Place</td><td><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">26.</td><td>On Cooking</td><td><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">27.</td><td>On the Tarp Shelter Tent</td><td><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">28.</td><td>On Guns</td><td><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">29.</td><td>On Treating Pack-Animals</td><td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">30.</td><td>On the Scout Camp Place</td><td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">31.</td><td>On Camp-Law Protection</td><td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">32.</td><td>On Division of Guard Duty</td><td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">33.</td><td>On Trailing</td><td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">34.</td><td>On Marking the Trail</td><td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">35.</td><td>On Respecting the Enemy</td><td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">36.</td><td>On the Parole</td><td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">37.</td><td>On the Sign for Escape</td><td><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">38.</td><td>On Tying a Prisoner</td><td><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">40.</td><td>On Making a Fire</td><td><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">41.</td><td>On the Clock of the Heavens</td><td><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">42.</td><td>On Stars</td><td><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">43.</td><td>On Sunday</td><td><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">44.</td><td>On Smoke Signals</td><td><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">45.</td><td>On Surgical Supplies</td><td><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">46.</td><td>On Antiseptics</td><td><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">47.</td><td>On Climbing Trees</td><td><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">48.</td><td>On Wigwags and Other Motion Signaling</td><td><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">49.</td><td>On Sprains</td><td><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">50.</td><td>On Caches</td><td><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">51.</td><td>On Use of Medicines</td><td><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">52.</td><td>On Forest Fires</td><td><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">53.</td><td>On Fire Fighting</td><td><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">54.</td><td>On Deep Wounds</td><td><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">55.</td><td>On the Squaw Hitch</td><td><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">56.</td><td>On Picketing and Hobbling</td><td><a href="#Page_315">315</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">57.</td><td>On Respecting Nature</td><td><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">58.</td><td>On Dislocations</td><td><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">59.</td><td>On Litters for Wounded</td><td><a href="#Page_317">317</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">60.</td><td>On Jerked Meat</td><td><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">61.</td><td>On Dressing Pelts</td><td><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">62.</td><td>On Aluminum</td><td><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">63.</td><td>On "Levez!"</td><td><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">64.</td><td>On Appendicitis</td><td><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">65.</td><td>On the Nose of Horse and Mule</td><td><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pr" align="right">66.</td><td>On Being a Scout</td><td><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h2><a name="Illustrations" id="Illustrations"></a>PICTURE SIGNS</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<col style="width:80%;" /> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<tr><td align="left">"'You git!' he ordered."</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Bill Duane went through him."</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-004">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"It was our private elk patrol code."</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-005">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Like cave-men or trappers we descended."</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-006">215</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr class="major" /> + +<h2><a name="THE_ROLL_CALL" id="THE_ROLL_CALL"></a>THE ROLL CALL</h2> + +<div style="margin-left:15%; margin-right: 15%;"> +<p style="margin-bottom:0"><span class="smcap">The Elk Patrol of Colorado:</span></p> + +<p style="margin-top:0; margin-left:5%;">First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley.<br /> +First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry.<br /> +First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson.<br /> +First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand.<br /> +Second-class Scout "Little" Dick Smith, or Jedediah Smith.<br /> +Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger.<br /> +</p> + +<p style="margin-bottom: 0;"><span class="smcap">The Red Fox Patrol of New Jersey</span>:</p> + +<p style="margin-top:0; margin-left:5%;">First-class Scout Horace Ward.<br /> +First-class Scout Edward Van Sant.<br /> +</p> + +<p style="margin-bottom: 0;"><span class="smcap">Friends and Enemies</span>:</p> + +<p style="margin-top:0; margin-left:5%;">Sally and Apache, the Elk Totem Burros.<br /> +Bill Duane and his Town Gang, Who Make the Trail Worse.<br /> +Bat and Walt, the Renegade Recruits.<br /> +The Beaver Man.<br /> +The Game Warden, the Forest Ranger, the Cow-puncher, +the two Ranch Women, the Doctor; Pilot Peak, Creeks, +Valleys, Hills, Timber, and Sage and Meadows; Rain +and Fire and Flood; the Big Trout, the Mother Bear, +the Tame Ptarmigans, etc. +</p> + +<h3><a name="THE_LONG_TRAIL" id="THE_LONG_TRAIL"></a>THE LONG TRAIL</h3> + +<p>Afoot, One Hundred Miles through a Wild Country and over the Medicine +Range. Described by Jim Bridger, with a Few Chapters by Major Henry.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h1><a name="PLUCK_ON_THE_LONG_TRAIL" id="PLUCK_ON_THE_LONG_TRAIL"></a>PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL</h1> + +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2><h3>THE LONG TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p><img src="images/illus-001.png" alt="" title="" width="120" height="68" style="float: right; text-align: center; margin: 0 0 0 1em;"/> +We are the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of America. Our +sign is [transcriber note: sign shown to the right] and our colors are dark green and white, like the pines and the +snowy range. Our patrol call is the whistle of an elk, which is an +"Oooooooooooo!" high up in the head, like a locomotive whistle. We took +the Elk brand (that is the same as totem, you know, only we say "brand," +in the West), because elks are the great trail-makers in the mountains.</p> + +<p>About the hardest thing that we have set out to do yet has been to carry +a secret message across the mountains, one hundred miles, from our town +to another town, with our own pack outfit, and finding our own trail, +and do it in fifteen days including Sundays. That is what I want to tell +about, in this book.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span></p> + +<p>There were six of us who went; and just for fun we called ourselves by +trapper or scout names. We were:</p> + +<p>First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley. He is our +patrol leader. He is fifteen years old, and red-headed, and his mother +is a widow and keeps a boarding-house.</p> + +<p>First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry. He is our corporal. +He is sixteen years old, and has snapping black eyes, and his father is +mayor.</p> + +<p>First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson. He is thirteen years +old, and before he came into the Scouts we called him "Sliver" because +he's so skinny. His father is a groceryman.</p> + +<p>First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He +is fifteen years old, and tow-headed and all freckled, and has only half +a left arm. He got hurt working in the mine. But he's as smart as any of +us. He can use a camera and throw a rope and dress himself, and tie his +shoe-laces and other knots. He's our best trailer. His father is a +miner.</p> + +<p>Second-class Scout Richard Smith, or Jedediah Smith. He is only twelve, +and is a "fatty," and his father is postmaster.</p> + +<p>Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger the Blanket Chief. +That's myself. I'm fourteen, and have brown eyes and big ears, and my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> +father is a lawyer. When we started I had just been promoted from a +tenderfoot, so I didn't know very much yet. But we're all first-class +Scouts now, and have honors besides.</p> + +<p>For Scout work we were paired off like this: Ashley and Carson; Henry +and Smith; Fitzpatrick and Bridger. (See <i>Note 1</i>, in back of book.)</p> + +<p>Our trip would have been easier (but it was all right, anyway), if a +notice hadn't got into the newspaper and put other boys up to trying to +stop us. This is what the notice said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Elk Patrol of the local Boy Scouts is about to take a message +from Mayor Scott across the range to the mayor of Green Valley. +This message will be sealed and in cipher, and the boys will be +granted fifteen days in which to perform the trip over, about 100 +miles, afoot; so they will have to hustle. They must not make use +of any vehicles or animals except their pack-animals, or stop at +ranches except through injury or illness, but must pursue their own +trail and live off the country. The boys who will go are Roger +Franklin, Tom Scott, Dick Smith, Harry Leonard, Chris Anderson, and +Charley Brown. </p></div> + +<p>Of course, this notice gave the whole scheme away, and some of the other +town boys who pretended to make fun of us Scouts because we were trying +to learn Scoutcraft and to use it right planned to cut us off and take +the message away from us. There always are boys mean enough to bother +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> interfere, until they get to be Scouts themselves. Then they are +ashamed.</p> + +<p>We knew that we were liable to be interfered with, because we heard some +talk, and Bill Duane (he's one of the town fellows; he doesn't do much +of anything except loaf) said to me: "Oh, you'll never get through, kid. +The bears will eat you up. Bears are awful bad in that country."</p> + +<p>But this didn't scare <i>us</i>. Bears aren't much, if you let them alone. We +knew what he meant, though. And we got an anonymous letter. It came to +General Ashley, and showed a skull and cross-bones, and said:</p> + +<p class="center"> +BEWARE!!! No Boy Scouts allowed on the Medicine Range! Keep Off!!!<br /> +</p> + +<p>That didn't scare us, either.</p> + +<p>When we were ready to start, Mayor Scott called us into his office and +told us that this was to be a real test of how we could be of service in +time of need and of how we could take care of ourselves; and that we +were carrying a message to Garcia, and must get it through, if we could, +but that he put us on our honor as Scouts to do just as we had agreed to +do. (See <i>Note 2</i>.)</p> + +<p>Then we saluted him, and he saluted us with a military salute, and we +gave our Scouts' yell, and went.</p> + +<p>Our Scouts' yell is:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"> +B. S. A.! B. S. A.!<br /> +Elk! Elk! Hoo-ray!!<br /> +</p> + +<p>and a screech all together, like the bugling of an elk.</p> + +<p>This is how we marched. The message was done up flat, between cardboard +covered by oiled silk with the Elk totem on it, and was slung by a +buckskin thong from the general's neck, under his shirt, out of sight.</p> + +<p>We didn't wear coats, because coats were too hot, and you can't climb +with your arms held by coat-sleeves. We had our coats in the packs, for +emergencies. We wore blue flannel shirts with the Scouts' emblem on the +sleeves, and Scouts' drab service hats, and khaki trousers tucked into +mountain-boots hob-nailed with our private pattern so that we could tell +each other's tracks, and about our necks were red bandanna handkerchiefs +knotted loose, and on our hands were gauntlet gloves. Little Jed Smith, +who is a fatty, wore two pairs of socks, to prevent his feet from +blistering. That is a good scheme. (<i>Note 3</i>.)</p> + +<p>General Ashley and Major Henry led; next were our two burros, Sally (who +was a yellow burro with a white spot on her back) and Apache (who was a +black burro and was named for Kit Carson's—the real Kit +Carson's—favorite horse). Behind the burros we came: the two other +first-class Scouts,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> and then the second-class Scouts, who were Jed +Smith and myself.</p> + +<p>We took along two flags: one was the Stars and Stripes and the other was +our Patrol flag—green with a white Elk totem on it. They were fastened +to a jointed staff, the Stars and Stripes on top and the Patrol flag +below; and the butt of the staff was sharpened, to stick into the +ground. The flags flew in camp. We did not have tents. We had three +tarps, which are tarpaulins or cowboy canvas bed-sheets, to sleep in, on +the ground, and some blankets and quilts for over and under, too. (<i>Note +4.</i>) And these and our cooking things and a change of underclothes and +stockings, etc., were packed on the burros with panniers and top-packs +lashed tight with the diamond hitch. (<i>Note 5.</i>)</p> + +<p>We decided to pack along one twenty-two caliber rifle, for rabbits when +we needed meat. One gun is enough in a camp of kids. This gun was under +the general's orders (he was our leader, you know), so that there +wouldn't be any promiscuous shooting around in the timber, and somebody +getting hit. It was for business, not monkey-work. We took one of our +bows, the short and thick Indian kind, and some of our two-feathered +arrows, in case that we must get meat without making any noise. (<i>Note +6.</i>) And we had two lariat ropes. (<i>Note 7.</i>) Each pair of Scouts was +allotted a war-bag, to hold their personal duds, and each fellow put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> in +a little canvas kit containing tooth-brush and powder, comb and brush, +needles and thread, etc. (<i>Note 8.</i>)</p> + +<p>For provisions we had flour, salt, sugar, bacon, dried apples, dried +potatoes, rice, coffee (a little), tea, chocolate, baking-powder, +condensed milk, canned butter, and half a dozen cans of beans, for short +order. (<i>Note 9.</i>) Canned stuff is heavy, though, and mean to pack. We +didn't fool with raw beans, in bulk. They use much space, and at 10,000 +and 12,000 feet they take too long to soak and cook.</p> + +<p>We depended on catching trout, and on getting rabbits or squirrels to +tide us over; and we were allowed to stock up at ranches, if we should +pass any. That was legitimate. Even the old trappers traded for meat +from the Indians.</p> + +<p>We had our first-aid outfits—one for each pair of us. I carried Chris's +and mine. We were supplied with camp remedies, too. (<i>Note 10.</i>) Doctor +Wallace of our town, who was our Patrol surgeon, had picked them out for +us.</p> + +<p>General Ashley and Major Henry set the pace. The trail out of town was +good, and walking fast and straight-footed (<i>Note 11</i>) we trailed by the +old stage road four miles, until we came to Grizzly Gulch. Here we +turned off, by a prospectors' trail, up Grizzly. The old stage road +didn't go to Green Valley. Away off to the northwest, now, was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +Medicine Range that we must cross, to get at Green Valley on the other +side. It is a high, rough range, 13,000 and 14,000 feet, and has snow on +it all the year. In the middle was Pilot Peak, where we expected to +strike a pass.</p> + +<p>The prospect trail was fair, and we hustled. We didn't stop to eat much, +at noon; that would have taken our wind. The going was up grade and you +can't climb fast on a full stomach. We had a long march ahead of us, for +old Pilot Peak looked far and blue.</p> + +<p>Now and then the general let us stop, to puff for a moment; and the +packs had to be tightened after Sally's and Apache's stomachs had gone +down with exercise. We followed the trail single file, and about two +o'clock, by the sun, we reached the head of the gulch and came out on +top of the mesa there.</p> + +<p>We were hot and kind of tired (especially little Jed Smith, our +"fatty"); but we were not softies and this was no place to halt long. We +must cross and get under cover again. If anybody was spying on us we +could be seen too easy, up here. When you're pursuing, you keep to the +high ground, so as to see; but when you're pursued you keep to the low +ground, so as not to be seen. That was the trappers' way.</p> + +<p>I'll tell you what we did. There are two ways to throw pursuers off the +scent. We might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> done as the Indians used to do. They would +separate, after a raid, and would spread out in a big fan-shape, every +one making a trail of his own, so that the soldiers would not know which +to follow; and after a long while they would come together again at some +point which they had agreed on. But we weren't ready to do this. It took +time, and we did not have any meeting-spot, exactly. So we left as big a +trail as we could, to make any town gang think that we were not +suspicious. That would throw them off their guard.</p> + +<p>Single file we traveled across the mesa, and at the other side we dipped +into a little draw. Here we found Ute Creek, which we had planned to +follow up to its headwaters in the Medicine Range. A creek makes a good +guide. A cow-trail ran beside it.</p> + +<p>"First-class Scout Fitzpatrick (that was Chris) and Second-class Scout +Bridger (that was I) drop out and watch the trail," commanded General +Ashley (that was Patrol Leader Roger Franklin). "Report at Bob Cat +Springs. We'll camp there for the night."</p> + +<p>Chris and I knew what to do. We gave a big leap aside, to a flat rock, +and the other Scouts continued right along; and because they were single +file the trail didn't show any difference. I don't suppose that the town +gang would have noticed, anyway; but you must never despise the enemy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p> + +<p>From the flat rock Fitzpatrick and I stepped lightly, so as not to leave +much mark, on some dried grass, and made off up the side of the draw, +among the bushes. These grew as high as our shoulders, and formed a fine +ambuscade. We climbed far enough so that we could see both sides of the +draw and the trail in between; and by crawling we picked a good spot and +sat down.</p> + +<p>We knew that we must keep still, and not talk. We kept so still that +field-mice played over our feet, and a bee lit on Fitzpatrick. He didn't +brush it off.</p> + +<p>We could talk sign language; that makes no sound. Of course, Fitz could +talk with only one hand. He made the signs to watch down the trail, and +to listen; and I replied with men on horseback and be vigilant as a +wolf. (<i>Note 12.</i>)</p> + +<p>It wasn't bad, sitting here in the sunshine, amidst the brush. The draw +was very peaceful and smelled of sage. A magpie flew over, his black and +white tail sticking out behind him; and he saw us and yelled. Magpies +are awful sharp, that way. They're a good sign to watch. Everything +tells something to a Scout, when he's an expert.</p> + +<p>Sitting there, warm and comfortable, a fellow felt like going to sleep; +but Fitzpatrick was all eyes and ears, and I tried to be the same, as a +Scout should.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2><h3>THE NIGHT ATTACK</h3> +</div> + +<p>We must have been squatting for an hour and a half, and the sun was down +close to the top of the draw, behind us, when Fitzpatrick nudged me with +his foot, and nodded. He made the sign of birds flying up and pointed +down the trail, below, us; so that I knew somebody was coming, around a +turn there. (<i>Note 13.</i>) We scarcely breathed. We just sat and watched, +like two mountain lions waiting.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon they came riding along—four of them on horseback; we knew +the horses. The fellows were Bill Duane, Mike Delavan, Tony Matthews, +and Bert Hawley. They were laughing and talking because the trail we +made was plain and they thought that we all were pushing right on, and +if they could read sign they would know that the tracks were not extra +fresh.</p> + +<p>We let them get out of sight; then we went straight down upon the trail, +and followed, alongside, so as not to step on top of their tracks and +show that we had come after.</p> + +<p>We talked only by sign, and trailed slow, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> they might be +listening or looking back. We wanted to find where they stopped. At +every turn we sneaked and Fitzpatrick stuck just his head around, to see +that the trail was clear. Suddenly he made sign to me that he saw them; +there were three on horseback, waiting, and one had gone on, walking, to +reconnoiter.</p> + +<p>So we had to back-trail until we could make a big circle and strike the +trail on ahead. This wasn't open country here; there were cedars and +pinyons and big rocks. We circuited up and around, out of sight from the +trail, and came in, bending low and walking carefully so as not to crack +sticks, to listen and examine for sign. We found strange tracks—soles +without hob-nails, pointing one way but not coming back. We hid behind a +cedar, and waited. In about fifteen minutes Bill Duane walked right past +us, back to the other fellows.</p> + +<p>Now we hurried on, for it was getting dark; and soon we smelled smoke, +and that meant camp. Fitzpatrick (who was a first-class Scout, while I +was only a second) reported to General Ashley the whereabouts of the +enemy.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said General Ashley. "Corporal Andrew Henry (that was Tom +Scott) and Second-class Scout Jed Smith (that was Dick Smith) will go +back a quarter of a mile and picket the trail until relieved; the rest +of us will proceed with camp duties."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span></p> + +<p>Major Henry and little Jed Smith set off. We finished establishing camp. +Two holes were dug for camp refuse; that was my business. Places for the +beds were cleared of sticks and things; that was Kit Carson's business. +General Ashley chopped a cedar stump for wood (cedar burns without soot, +you know); and Fitzpatrick cooked. The burros had been unpacked and the +flags planted before Fitzpatrick and I came in. We had to picket the +burros out, to graze, at first, or they might have gone back to town. Of +course, as we were short-handed, we had to do Henry's and Smith's work, +to-night, too: spread the beds before dark and bring water and such +things. (<i>Note 14.</i>)</p> + +<p>For supper we had bacon and two cans of the beans and biscuits baked in +a reflector, and coffee. (<i>Note 15.</i>) Major Henry and Jed Smith were not +getting any supper yet, because they were still on picket duty. But when +we were through General Ashley said, "Kit Carson, you and Jim Bridger +relieve Henry and Smith, and tell them to come in to supper."</p> + +<p>But just as we stood, to start, Major Henry walked in amongst us. He was +excited, and puffing, and he almost forgot to salute General Ashley, who +was Patrol leader.</p> + +<p>"They're planning to come!" he puffed. "I sneaked close to them and +heard 'em talking!"</p> + +<p>"Is this meant for a report?" asked General<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> Ashley. And we others +snickered. It wasn't the right way to make a report.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," answered Henry. "That is, I reconnoitered the enemy's camp, +sir, and they're talking about us."</p> + +<p>"What did you hear?"</p> + +<p>"They're going to rush us when we're asleep, and scare us."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said General Ashley. "But you weren't ordered to do that. +You left your post, sir."</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd like to know. They didn't hear me," stammered Major +Henry.</p> + +<p>"You'd no business to go, just the same. Orders are orders. Where is +Smith?"</p> + +<p>"Watching on picket."</p> + +<p>"Did he go, too?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"You exceeded orders, and you ought to be court-martialed," said General +Ashley. And he was right, too. "But I'll give you another chance. When +is the enemy going to attack?"</p> + +<p>"After we're asleep."</p> + +<p>"What is he doing now?"</p> + +<p>"Eating and smoking and waiting, down the trail."</p> + +<p>"You can have some coffee and beans and bread, while we hold council. +Carson and Bridger can wait a minute."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span></p> + +<p>The council didn't take long. General Ashley's plan was splendid, a joke +and a counter-attack in one. Major Henry ate as much as he could, but he +wasn't filled up when he was sent out again, into the dark, with Kit +Carson. They were ordered to tell Jed Smith to come in, but they were to +go on. You'll see what happened. This double duty was Henry's +punishment.</p> + +<p>We cleaned up the camp, and then Jed Smith arrived. While he was eating +we made the beds. We drew up the tarpaulins, over blankets and quilts +rolled so that the beds looked exactly as if we were in them, our feet +to the fire (it was a little fire, of course) and our heads in shadow. +We tied the burros short; and then we went back into the cedars and +pinyons and sat down, quiet.</p> + +<p>It wasn't pitchy dark. When the sky is clear it never gets pitchy dark, +in the open; and there was a quarter-moon shining, too. The night was +very still. The breeze just rustled the trees, but we could hear our +hearts beat. Once, about a mile away, a coyote barked like a crazy +puppy. He was calling for company. The stars twinkled down through the +stiff branches, and I tried to see the Great Dipper, but that took too +much squirming around.</p> + +<p>We must not say a word, nor even whisper. We must just keep quiet, and +listen and wait. Down the trail poor Major Henry and Kit Carson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> were +having a harder time of it—but I would have liked to be along.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand nudged me gently with his +knuckles, and I nudged Jed Smith, and Jed passed it on, and it went +around from one to the other, so we all knew. Somebody was coming! We +could hear a stick snap, and a little laugh, off in the timber; it +sounded as though somebody had run into a branch. We waited. The enemy +was stealing upon our camp. We hid our faces in our coats and our hands +in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting, sitting +this way, waiting for the attack.</p> + +<p>The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them +peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like +Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us—or what they thought was us. +They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to +scare us stiff with the noise—but you ought to have seen how quick they +quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It +was funny—and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they +stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again.</p> + +<p>"They aren't here," said Bill Duane. At a nudge from General Ashley we +had deployed, running low and swift, right and left.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poke the fire, so we can see," said Bert Hawley.</p> + +<p>One of them did, so the fire blazed up—which was just what we wanted. +Now they were inside and we were outside. They began to talk.</p> + +<p>"We'll pile up the camp, anyway."</p> + +<p>"They're around somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Let's take their burros."</p> + +<p>"Take their flags."</p> + +<p>Then General Ashley spoke up.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" he said. "You let those things alone."</p> + +<p>That voice, coming out of the darkness around, must have made them jump, +and for a minute they didn't know what to do. Then—</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Bill Duane, kind of defiantly.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment and we'll show you," answered General Ashley.</p> + +<p>He whistled loud, our Scouts' signal whistle; and off down the trail +Major Henry or Kit Carson whistled back, and added the whistle that +meant "All right." (<i>Note 16.</i>)</p> + +<p>"Hear that?" asked General Ashley. "That means we've got your horses!"</p> + +<p>Hurrah! So we had. You see, Major Henry and Kit Carson had been sent +back to watch the enemy's camp; and when the gang had left, on foot, to +surprise us, our two scouts had gone in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> and captured the horses. We +couldn't help but whoop and yell a little, in triumph. But General +Ashley ordered "Silence!" and we quit.</p> + +<p>"Aw, we were just fooling," said Tony Matthews. They talked together, +low, for a few moments; and Bill called: "Come on in. We won't hurt +you."</p> + +<p>"Of course you won't," said General Ashley. "But <i>we</i> aren't fooling. We +mean business. We'll keep the horses until you've promised to clear out +and let this camp alone."</p> + +<p>"We don't want the horses. Two of 'em are hired and the longer you keep +them the more you'll have to pay." That was a lie. They didn't hire +horses. They borrowed.</p> + +<p>"We can sleep here very comfortably, kid," said Mike Delavan.</p> + +<p>"You'll not get much sleep in those beds," retorted General Ashley. +"Will they, boys!"</p> + +<p>And we all laughed and said "No!"</p> + +<p>"And after they've walked ten miles back to town, we'll bring in the +horses and tell how we took them."</p> + +<p>The enemy talked together low, again.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Bill Duane. "You give us our horses and we'll let the +camp alone."</p> + +<p>"Do you promise?" asked General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Yes; didn't I say so?"</p> + +<p>"Do you, Mike?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure; if you return those horses."</p> + +<p>"Do you, Tony and Bert?"</p> + +<p>"Uh huh."</p> + +<p>That was the best way—to make each promise separately; for some one of +them might have claimed that he hadn't promised with the rest.</p> + +<p>"Then go on down the trail, and you'll find the horses where you left +them."</p> + +<p>"How do we know?"</p> + +<p>"On the honor of a Scout," said General Ashley. "We won't try any +tricks, and don't you, for we'll be watching you until you start for +town."</p> + +<p>They grumbled back, and with Bill Duane in the lead stumbled for the +trail. General Ashley whistled the signal agreed upon, for Major Henry +and Kit Carson to tie the horses and to withdraw. We might have followed +the enemy; but we would have risked dividing our forces too much and +leaving the camp. We were safer here.</p> + +<p>So we waited, quiet; and after a time somebody signaled with the whistle +of the patrol. It was Kit Carson.</p> + +<p>"They've gone, sir," he reported, when General Ashley called him.</p> + +<p>"What did they say?"</p> + +<p>"They're mad; but they're going into town and they'll get back at us +later."</p> + +<p>"You saw them start, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where's Henry?"</p> + +<p>"Waiting to see if they turn or anything."</p> + +<p>"They won't. They know we'll be ready for them. Shall we move camp, or +post sentries, boys?"</p> + +<p>We voted to post sentries. It seemed an awful job to move camp, at this +time of night, and make beds over again, and all that. It was only ten +o'clock by General Ashley's watch, but it felt later. So we built up the +fire, and set some coffee on, and called Major Henry in, and General +Ashley and Jed Smith took the first spell of two hours; then they were +to wake up Fitzpatrick and me, for the next two hours; and Major Henry +and Kit Carson would watch from two till four, when it would be growing +light. But we didn't have any more trouble that night.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2><h3>THE BIG TROUT</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was mighty hard work, turning out at five o'clock in the morning. +That was regulations, while on the march—to get up at five. The ones +who didn't turn out promptly had to do the dirty work—police the camp, +which is to clean it, you know.</p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand cooked; I helped, by opening packages, +preparing potatoes (if we had them), tending fire, etc.; Major Henry +chopped wood; Kit Carson and little Jed Smith looked after the burros, +Apache and Sally, and scouted in a circle for hostile sign; General +Ashley put the bedding in shape to pack.</p> + +<p>But first it was regulations to take a cold wet rub when we were near +water. It made us glow and kept us in good shape. Then we brushed our +teeth and combed our hair. (<i>Note 17.</i>) After breakfast we policed the +camp, and dumped everything into a hole, or burned it, so that we left +the place just about as we had found it. We stamped out the fire, or put +dirt and water on it, of course. Then we packed the burros. General +Ashley, Jed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> Smith, and Kit Carson packed Sally; Major Henry, Thomas +Fitzpatrick, and I packed Apache. And by six-thirty we were on our way.</p> + +<p>This morning we kept on up Ute Creek. It had its rise in Gray Bull +Basin, at the foot of old Pilot Peak, about forty miles away. We thought +we could make Gray Bull Basin in three days. Ten or twelve miles a day, +with burros, on the trail, up-hill all the way, is about as fast as +Scouts like us can keep going. Beyond Gray Bull we would have to find +our own trail over Pilot Peak.</p> + +<p>Everything was fine, this morning. Birds were hopping among the cedars +and spruces, and in some places the ground was red with wild +strawberries. Pine squirrels scolded at us, and we saw two rabbits; but +we didn't stop to shoot them. We had bacon, and could catch trout higher +up the creek. Here were some beaver dams, and around the first dam lived +a big trout that nobody had been able to land. The beaver dams were +famous camping places for parties who could go this far, and everybody +claimed to have hooked the big trout and to have lost him again. He was +a native Rocky Mountain trout, and weighed four pounds—but he was +educated. He wouldn't be caught. He had only one eye; that was how +people knew him.</p> + +<p>We didn't count upon that big trout, but we rather counted upon some +smaller ones; and anyway we must hustle on and put those ten miles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +behind us before the enemy got in touch with us again. Our business was +to carry that message through, and not to stop and hunt or lose time +over uncalled-for things.</p> + +<p>The creek foamed and rushed; its water was amber, as if stained by pine +needles. Sometimes it ran among big bowlders, and sometimes it was +crossed by fallen trees. Thomas Fitzpatrick picked up a beaver cutting. +That was an aspen stick (beavers like aspen and willow bark best) about +as large as your wrist and two feet long. It was green and the ends were +fresh, so there were beavers above us. And it wasn't water-soaked, so +that it could not have been cut and in the water very long. We were +getting close.</p> + +<p>We traveled right along, and the country grew rougher. There were many +high bowlders, and we came to a canyon where the creek had cut between +great walls like a crack. There was no use in trying to go through this +canyon; the trail had faded out, and we were about to oblique off up the +hill on our side of the creek, to go around and strike the creek above +the canyon, when Kit Carson saw something caught on a brush-heap half in +the water, at the mouth of the canyon.</p> + +<p>It was a chain. He leaned out and took hold of the chain, and drew it in +to shore. On the other end was a trap, and in the trap was a beaver. The +chain was not tied to the brush; it had just caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> there, so it must +have been washed down. Then up above somebody was trapping beaver, which +was against the law. The beaver was in pretty bad condition. He must +have been drowned for a week or more. The trap had no brand on it. +Usually traps are branded on the pan, but this wasn't and that went to +show that whoever was trapping knew better. The sight of that beaver, +killed uselessly, made us sick and mad both. But we couldn't do anything +about it, except to dig a hole and bury trap and all, so that the creek +would wash clean, as it ought to be. Then we climbed up the steep hill, +over rocks and flowers, and on top followed a ridge, until ahead we saw +the creek again. It was in a little meadow here, and down we went for +it.</p> + +<p>This was a beautiful spot. On one side the pines and spruces covered a +long slope which rose on and on until above timber line it was bare and +reddish gray; and away up were patches of snow; and beyond was the tip +of Pilot Peak. But on our side a forest fire had burned out the timber, +leaving only black stumps sticking up, with the ground covered by a new +growth of bushes. There was quite a difference between the two sides; +and we camped where we were, on the bare side, which was the safest for +a camp fire. It would have been a shame to spoil the other side, too.</p> + +<p>We were tired, after being up part of the night and climbing all the +morning, and this was a good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> place to stop. Plenty of dry wood, plenty +of water, and space to spread our beds.</p> + +<p>The creek was smooth and wide, here, about the middle of the park. The +beaver had been damming it. But although we looked about, after locating +camp and unpacking the burros, we couldn't find a fresh sign. We came +upon camp sign, though, two days old, at least. Somebody had trapped +every beaver and then had left.</p> + +<p>That seemed mean, because it was against the law to trap beaver, and +here they weren't doing any harm. But the fire had laid waste one shore +of the pond, and animal killers had laid waste the pond itself.</p> + +<p>We decided to have a big meal. There ought to be wild raspberries in +this burnt timber; wild raspberries always follow a forest fire—and +that is a queer thing, isn't it? So, after camp was laid out (which is +the first thing to do), and our flags set up, while Fitzpatrick the Bad +Hand and Major Henry built a fire and got things ready for dinner, +General Ashley and Kit Carson went after berries and little Jed Smith +and I were detailed to catch trout.</p> + +<p>We had lines and hooks, but we didn't bother to pack rods, because you +almost always can get willows. (<i>Note 18.</i>) Some fellows would have cut +green willows, because they bend. We knew better. We cut a dead willow +apiece. We were after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> meat, and not just sport; and when we had a trout +bite we wanted to yank him right out. A stiff, dead willow will do that. +Grasshoppers were whirring around, among the dried trunks and the grass. +That is what grasshoppers like, a place where it's hot and open. As a +rule you get bigger fish with bait than you do with a fly, so we put on +grasshoppers. I hate sticking a hook into a grasshopper, or a worm +either; and we killed our grasshoppers quick by smashing their heads +before we hooked them.</p> + +<p>It was going to be hard work, catching trout around this beaver pond. +The water was wide and smooth and shallow and clear, and a trout would +see you coming. When a trout knows that you are about, then the game is +off. Besides, lots of people had been fishing the pond, and the beaver +hunters must have been fishing it lately, according to sign. But that +made it all the more exciting. Little trout are caught easily, and the +big ones are left for the person who can outwit them.</p> + +<p>After we were ready, we reconnoitered. We sat down and studied to see +where we'd prefer to be if we were a big trout. A big trout usually +doesn't prowl about much. He gets a lair, in a hole or under a bank, and +stays close, eating whatever comes his way, and chasing out all the +smaller trout. Sometimes he swims into the ripples, to feed; but back he +goes to his lair again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span></p> + +<p>So we studied the situation. There was no use in wading about, or +shaking the banks, and scaring trout, unless we had a plan. It looked to +me that if I were a big trout I'd be in a shady spot over across, where +the water swept around a low place of the dam and made a black eddy +under the branches of a spruce. Jed Smith said all right, I could try +that, and he would try where the bank on our side stuck out over the +water a little.</p> + +<p>I figured that my hole would be fished by about everybody from the +water. Most persons would wade across, and cast up-stream to the edge of +it; and if a trout was still there he would be watching out for that. So +the way to surprise him would be to sneak on him from a new direction. I +went down below, and crossed (over my boot-tops) to the other side, and +followed up through the timber.</p> + +<p>I had to crawl under the spruce—and I was mighty careful not to shake +the ground or to make any noise, for we needed fish. Nobody had been to +the hole from this direction; it was too hard work. By reaching out with +my pole I could just flip the hopper into the water. I tried twice; and +the second time I landed him right in the swirl. He hadn't floated an +inch when a yellowish thing calmly rose under him and he was gone!</p> + +<p>I jerked up with the willow, and the line tightened and began to tug. I +knew by the color and the way he swallowed the hopper without any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> fuss +that he was a king trout, and if I didn't haul him right in he'd break +the pole or tear loose. I shortened pole like lightning and grabbed the +line; but it got tangled in the branches of the spruce, and the trout +was hung up with just his nose out of water.</p> + +<p>Jiminy! but he was making the spray fly. He looked as big as a beaver, +and the hook was caught in the very edge of his lip. That made me hurry. +In a moment he'd be away. I suppose I leaned out too far, to grab the +line again, or to get him by the gills, for I slipped and dived +headfirst into the hole.</p> + +<p>Whew, but the water was cold! It took my breath—but I didn't care. All +I feared was that now I'd lost the fish. He weighed four pounds, by this +time, I was sure. As soon as I could stand and open my eyes I looked for +him. When I had dived in I must have shaken loose the line, for it was +under water again, and part of the pole, too. I sprawled for the pole +and grabbed it as it was sliding out. The line tightened. The trout was +still on.</p> + +<p>Now I must rustle for the shore. So I did, paying out the pole behind me +so as not to tear the hook free; and the minute I scrambled knee-deep, +with a big swing I hustled that trout in and landed him in the brush +just as he flopped off!</p> + +<p>I tell you, I was glad. Some persons would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> wanted a reel and light +tackle, to play him—but we were after meat.</p> + +<p>"I've got one—a big one!" I yelled, across to where Jed Smith was.</p> + +<p>"So have I!" yelled little Jed back.</p> + +<p>I had picked my trout up. He wasn't so awful big, after all; only about +fifteen inches long, which means two pounds. He was an Eastern brook +trout. They grow larger in the cold water of the West than they do in +their own homes. But I looked for Jed—and then dropped my trout and +waded over to help <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>He was out in the water, up to his waist, and something was jerking him +right along.</p> + +<p>"I can't get him out!" he called, as I was coming. "How big is yours?"</p> + +<p>"Fifteen inches."</p> + +<p>"This one's as big as I am—big native!" And you should have heard Jed +grunt, as the line just surged around, in the current.</p> + +<p>"Want any help?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Uh uh. If he can lick me, then he ought to get away."</p> + +<p>"Where'd you catch him?"</p> + +<p>"Against the bank."</p> + +<p>"Swing him down the current and then lift him right in shore!"</p> + +<p>"Look out he doesn't tear loose!"</p> + +<p>"He'll break that pole!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick and Major Henry were yelling at us from the fire; and then +Jed stubbed his toe on a rock and fell flat. He didn't let the pole go, +though. He came up sputtering and he was as wet as I.</p> + +<p>"Swing him down and then lift him right in!" kept shouting Fitz and +Major Henry. That was the best plan.</p> + +<p>"All right," answered Jed. "You take the pole and start him," he said to +me. "I'd have to haul him against the current." I was below him, of +course, so as to head the trout up-stream.</p> + +<p>He tossed the butt at me and I caught it. That was generous of Jed—to +let me get the fish out, when he'd been the one to hook it. But we were +Scouts together, and we were after meat for all, not glory for one.</p> + +<p>I took the pole and with a swing downstream kept Mr. Trout going until +he shot out to the edge of the pond, and there Fitz tumbled on top of +him and grabbed him with one hand by the gills.</p> + +<p>When we held him up we gave our Patrol yell:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;"> +B. S. A.! B. S. A.!<br /> +Elks! Elks! Hoo-ray!<br /> +Oooooooooooo!<br /> +</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2><h3>THE BEAVER MAN</h3> +</div> + +<p>For he was a great one, that trout! He was the big fellow that everybody +had been after, because he was twenty-six inches long and weighed four +pounds and had only one eye! That was good woodcraft, for a boy twelve +years old to sneak up on him and catch him with a willow pole and a line +tied fast and a grasshopper, when regular fishermen with fine outfits +had been trying right along. Of course they'll say we didn't give him +any show—but after he was hooked there was no use in torturing him. The +hooking is the principal part.</p> + +<p>Jed showed us how he had worked. He hadn't raised anything in the first +hole, by the bank, and he had gone on to another place that looked good. +Lots of people had fished this second place; there was a regular path to +it through the weeds, on the shore side; and below it, along the +shallows, the mud was full of tracks. But Jed had been smart. A trout +usually lies with his head up-stream, so as to gobble whatever comes +down. But here the current set in with a back-action, so that it made a +little eddy right against the bank—and a trout in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> that particular spot +would have his nose <i>downstream</i>. So Jed fished from the direction +opposite to that from which other persons had fished. He went around, +and approached from up-stream, awfully careful not to make any noise or +raise any settlings. Then he reached far and bounced his hopper from the +bank into the edge—as if it had fallen of itself—and it was gobbled +quick as a wink and the old trout pulled Jed in, too.</p> + +<p>So in fishing as in other scouting, I guess, you ought to do what the +enemy isn't expecting you to do.</p> + +<p>My trout was just a minnow beside of Jed's; and the two of them were all +we could eat, so we quit; Jed and I stripped off our wet clothes and +took a rub with a towel and sat in dry underclothes, while the wet stuff +was hung up in the sun. We felt fine.</p> + +<p>That was a great dinner. We rolled the trout in mud and baked them +whole. And we had fried potatoes, hot bread (or what people would call +biscuits), and wild raspberries with condensed milk. General Ashley and +Kit Carson had brought in a bucket of them. They were thick, back in the +burnt timber, and were just getting ripe.</p> + +<p>After the big dinner and the washing of the dishes we lay around +resting. Jed Smith and I couldn't do much until our clothes were dry. We +stuffed our boots with some newspapers we had,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> to help them dry. (<i>Note +19.</i>) While we were resting, Fitzpatrick made our "Sh!" sign which said +"Watch out! Danger!" and with his hand by his side pointed across the +beaver pond.</p> + +<p>We looked, with our eyes but not moving, so as not to attract attention. +Yes, a man had stepped out to the edge of the timber, at the upper end +of the pond and across, and was standing. Maybe he thought we didn't see +him, but we did. And he saw us, too; for after a moment he stepped back +again, and was gone. He had on a black slouch hat. He wasn't a large +man.</p> + +<p>We pretended not to have noticed him, until we were certain that he +wasn't spying from some other point. Then General Ashley spoke, in a low +tone: "He acted suspicious. We ought to reconnoiter. Scouts Fitzpatrick +and Bridger will circle around the upper end of the pond, and Scout Kit +Carson and I will circle the lower. Scouts Corporal Henry and Jed Smith +will guard camp."</p> + +<p>My boots were still wet, but I didn't mind. So we started off, in pairs, +which was the right way, Fitz and I for the upper end of the pond. I +carried a pole, as if we were going fishing, and we didn't hurry. We +sauntered through the brush, and where the creek was narrow we crossed +on some rocks, and followed the opposite shore down, a few yards back, +so as to cut the spy's tracks. I might not have found them, among the +spruce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> needles; but Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand did. He found a heel mark, +and by stooping down and looking along we could see a line where the +needles had been kicked up, to the shore. Marks show better, sometimes, +when you look this way, along the ground; but we could have followed, +anyhow, I think.</p> + +<p>The footprints were plain in the soft sand; if he had stood back a +little further, and had been more careful where he stepped, we might not +have found the tracks so easily; but he had stepped on some soft sand +and mud. We knew that he was not a large man, because we had seen him; +and we didn't believe that he was a prospector or a miner, because his +soles were not hobbed—or a cow-puncher, because he had no high heels to +sink in; he may have been a rancher, out looking about.</p> + +<p>"He must be left-handed," said Fitz.</p> + +<p>"Why?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Because, see?" and then he told me.</p> + +<p>Sure enough. That was smart of Fitz, I thought. But he's splendid to +read sign.</p> + +<p>Now we followed the tracks back. The man had come down and had returned +by the same route. And up in the timber about fifty yards he had had a +horse. We read how he had been riding through, and had stopped, and got +off and walked down to the pond, and stood, and walked back and mounted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +again and ridden on. All that was easy for Fitz, and I could read most +of it myself.</p> + +<p>We trailed the horse until the tracks surely went away from the pond +into the timber country; then we let it go, and met General Ashley, to +report. General Ashley and Kit Carson also examined the prints in the +sand, and we all agreed that the man probably was left-handed.</p> + +<p>Now, why had he come down to the edge of the pond, on purpose, and +looked at it and at us, and then turned up at a trot into the timber? It +would seem as if he might have been afraid that we had seen him, and he +didn't want to be seen. But all our guesses here and after we reached +camp again didn't amount to much, of course.</p> + +<p>We decided to stay for the night. It was a good camp place, and we +wouldn't gain anything, maybe, by starting on, near night, and getting +caught in the timber in the dark. And this would give the burros a good +rest and a fill-up before their climb.</p> + +<p>The burned stretch where we were was plumb full of live things—striped +chipmunks, and pine squirrels, and woodpecker families. Fitzpatrick +started in to take chipmunk pictures—and you ought to see how he can +manage a camera with one hand. He holds it between his knees or else +under his left arm, to draw the bellows out, and the rest is easy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span></p> + +<p>He scouted about and got some pictures of chipmunks real close, by +waiting, and a picture of a woodpecker feeding young ones, at a hole in +a dead pine stump. This was a good place for bear to come, after the +berries; and we were hoping that one would amble in while we were there +so that Fitz could take a picture of it, too. Bears don't hurt people +unless people try to hurt them; and a bear would sooner have raspberries +than have a man or boy, any day. Fitzpatrick thought that if he could +get a good picture of a bear, out in the open, that would bring him a +Scout's honor. Of course, chipmunk pictures help, too. But while we were +resting and fooling and taking pictures, and General Ashley was bringing +his diary and his map up to date, for record, we had another visitor. +(<i>Note 20.</i>)</p> + +<p><img src="images/illus-036.png" alt="" title="" width="46" height="66" style="float: right; text-align: center; margin: 0 0 0 1em;"/> +A man came riding a dark bay horse, with white nose and white right fore +foot, along our side of the beaver pond, and halted at our camp. The +horse had left ear swallow-tailed and was branded with a Diamond Five on +the right shoulder. The man wasn't the man we had seen across the pond, +for he wore a sombrero, and was taller and had on overalls, and +cow-puncher boots.</p> + +<p>"Howdy?" he said.</p> + +<p>"How are you?" we answered.</p> + +<p>He sort of lazily dismounted, and yawned—but his sharp eyes were taking +us and our camp all in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> + +<p>"Out fishing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Passing through," said General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Going far?"</p> + +<p>"Over to Green Valley."</p> + +<p>"Walking?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good place for beaver, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"A bad place."</p> + +<p>"That so? Used to be some about here. Couldn't catch any, eh?"</p> + +<p>"We aren't trying. But it seems a bad place for beaver because the only +one we have seen is a dead one in a trap."</p> + +<p>The man waked up. "Whose trap?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know." And the general went on to explain.</p> + +<p>The man nodded. "I'm a deputy game warden," he said at last. "Somebody's +been trapping beaver in here, and it's got to stop. Haven't seen any one +pass through?"</p> + +<p>We had. The general reported.</p> + +<p>"Smallish man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Roan hoss branded quarter circle D on the left hip? Brass-bound +stirrups?"</p> + +<p>"We didn't see the horse; but we think the man was left-handed," said +the general.</p> + +<p>"Why?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p> + +<p>"He was left-footed, because there was a hole in the sole of the left +shoe, and that would look as though he used his left foot more than his +right. So we think he may be left-handed, too." (<i>Note 21.</i>)</p> + +<p>The game warden grunted. He eyed our flag.</p> + +<p>"You kids must be regular Boy Scouts."</p> + +<p>"We are."</p> + +<p>"Then I reckon you aren't catching any beaver. All right, I'll look for +a left-footed man, maybe left-handed. But it's this fellow on the roan +hoss I'm after. He's been trying to sell pelts. There's no use my +trailing him, to-day. But I'll send word ahead, and if you lads run +across him let somebody know. Where are you bound for?"</p> + +<p>The general told him.</p> + +<p>"By way of Pilot Peak?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you a short cut. You see that strip of young timber +running up over the ridge? That's an old survey trail. It crosses to the +other side. Over beyond you'll strike Dixon's Park and a ruined +saw-mill. After that you can follow up Dixon's Creek."</p> + +<p>We thanked him and he mounted and rode away.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2><h3>TWO RECRUITS</h3> +</div> + +<p>When we got up in the morning, the mountains still had their night-caps +on. White mist was floating low about their tips, and lying in the +gulches like streams and lakes. Above timber-line, opposite us, was a +long layer of cloud, with the top of old Pilot Peak sticking through.</p> + +<p>This was a weather sign, although the sun rose clear and the sky was +blue. Nightcaps are apt to mean a showery day. (<i>Note 22.</i>) We took our +wet rub, ate breakfast, policed the camp and killed the fire, and +General Ashley put camphor and cotton against little Jed Smith's back +tooth, to stop some aching. Maybe there was a hole in the tooth, or +maybe Jed had just caught cold in it, after being wet; but he ought to +have had his teeth looked into before he started out on the scout. +(<i>Note 23.</i>) Anyway, the camphor stopped the ache—and made him dance, +too.</p> + +<p>We crossed the creek, above the beaver pond, and struck off into the old +survey trail that cut over the ridge. The brush was thick, and the trees +had sprung up again, so that really it wasn't a regular<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> trail unless +you had known about it. The blazes on the side trees had closed over. +But all the same, by watching the scars, and by keeping in the line +where the trees always opened out, and by watching the sky as it showed +before, we followed right along.</p> + +<p>After we had been traveling about two hours, we heard thunder and that +made us hustle the more, to get out of the thin timber, so that we would +not be struck by lightning. (<i>Note 24.</i>) The wind moaned through the +trees. The rain was coming, sure.</p> + +<p>The trail was diagonally up-hill, all the way, and if we had been +cigarette smokers we wouldn't have had breath enough to hit the fast +pace that General Ashley set. The burros had to trot, and it made little +Jed Smith, who is kind of fat, wheeze; but we stuck it out and came to a +flat place of short dried grass and bushes, with no trees. Here we +stopped. We were about nine thousand feet up.</p> + +<p>From where we were we could see the storm. It was flowing down along a +bald-top mountain back from our camp at the beaver pond, and looked like +gray smoke. The sun was just being swallowed. Well, all we could do was +to wait and take it, and see how bad it was. We tied Sally and Apache to +some bushes, but we didn't unpack them, of course. The tarps on top +would keep the grub from getting wet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span></p> + +<p>The storm made a grand sight, as it rolled toward us, over the timber. +And soon it was raining below us, down at the beaver pond—and then, +with a drizzle and a spatter, the rain reached us, too.</p> + +<p>We sat hunched, under our hats, and took it. We might have got under +blankets—but that would have given us soaked blankets for night, unless +we had stretched the tarps, too; and if we had stretched the tarps then +the rest of our packs would have suffered. The best way is to crawl +under a spruce, where the limbs have grown close to the ground. But not +in a thunder storm. And it is better to be wet yourself and have a dry +camp for night, than to be dry yourself and have a wet camp for night.</p> + +<p>Anyway, the rain didn't hurt us. While it thundered and lightened and +the drops pelted us well, we sang our Patrol song—which is a song like +one used by the Black feet Indians:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;"> +"The Elk is our Medicine,<br /> +He makes us very strong.<br /> +The Elk is our Medicine,<br /> +The Elk is our Medicine,<br /> +The Elk is our Medicine,<br /> +He makes us very strong.<br /> +Ooooooooooooooooooooooo!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>And when the thunder boomed we sang at it:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;">"The <i>Thunder</i> is our Medicine—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>to show that we weren't afraid of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></p> + +<p>The squall passed on over us, and when it had about quit we untied the +burros and started on again. In just a minute we were warm and sweating +and could shed our coats; and the sun came out hot to dry us off.</p> + +<p>We crossed the ridge, and on the other side we saw Dixon's Park. We knew +it was Dixon's Park, because the timber had been cut from it, and +Dixon's Park had had a saw-mill twenty years ago.</p> + +<p>Once this park had been grown over with trees, like the side of the +ridge where we had been climbing; but that saw-mill had felled +everything in sight, so that now there were only old stumps and dead +logs. It looked like a graveyard. If the mill had been watched, as most +mills are to-day, and had been made to leave part of the trees, then the +timber would have grown again.</p> + +<p>Down through the graveyard we went, and stopped for nooning at the +little creek which ran through the bottom. There weren't any fish in +this creek; the mill had killed the timber, and it had driven out the +fish with sawdust. It was just a dead place, and there didn't seem to be +even chipmunks.</p> + +<p>We had nooning at the ruins of the mill. Tin cans and old boot soles and +rusted pipe were still scattered about. We were a little tired, and more +rain was coming, so we made a fire by finding dry wood underneath slabs +and things, and had tea and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> bread and butter. That rested us. Little +Jed Smith was only twelve years old, and we had to travel to suit him +and not just to suit us bigger boys. I'm fourteen and Major Henry is +sixteen. All the afternoon was showery; first we were dry, then we were +wet; and there wasn't much fun about sloshing and slipping along; but we +pegged away, and climbed out of Dixon's Park to the ridge beyond it. Now +we could see old Pilot Peak plain, and keeping to the high ground we +made for it. It didn't look to be very far away; but we didn't know, +now, all the things that lay between.</p> + +<p>The top of this ridge was flat, and the forest reserve people had been +through and piled up the brush, so that a fire would not spread easily. +That made traveling good, and we hiked our best. Down in a gulch beside +us there was a stream: Dixon's Creek. But we kept to the high ground, +with our eyes open for a good camping spot, for the dark would close in +early if the rain did not quit. And nobody can pick a good camping place +in the dark.</p> + +<p>Regular rest means a great deal when you are traveling across country. +Even cowboys will tell you that. They bed down as comfortably as they +can, every time, on the round-up.</p> + +<p>After a while we came to a circular little spot, hard and flat, where +the timber had opened out. And General Ashley stopped and with a whirl +dug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> in his heel as sign that we would camp here. There was wood and +drainage and grass for the burros, and no danger of setting fire to the +trees if we made a big fire. We had to carry water up from the creek +below, but that was nothing.</p> + +<p>Now we must hustle and get the camp in shape quick, before the things +get wet. While Fitzpatrick picked out a spot for his fire and Major +Henry chopped wood, two of us unpacked each burro. We put the things +under a tarp, and I started to bring up the water, but General Ashley +spoke.</p> + +<p>"We're out of meat," he said. "You take the rifle and shoot a couple of +rabbits. There ought to be rabbits about after the rain."</p> + +<p>This suited me. He handed me the twenty-two rifle and five cartridges; +out of those five cartridges I knew I could get two rabbits or else I +wasn't any good as a hunter. The sun was shining once more, and the +shadows were long in the timber, so I turned to hunt against the sun, +and put my shadow behind me. Of course, that wouldn't make <i>very</i> much +difference, because rabbits usually see you before you see them; but I +was out after meat and must not miss any chances. There always is a +right way and a wrong way.</p> + +<p>This was a splendid time to hunt for rabbits, right after a rain. They +come out then before dark, and nibble about. And you can walk on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> +wetness without much noise. Early morning and the evening are the best +rabbit hours, anyway.</p> + +<p>I walked quick and straight-footed, looking far ahead, and right and +left, through the timber, to sight whatever moved. Yet I might be +passing close to a rabbit, without seeing him, for he would be +squatting. So I looked behind, too. And after I had walked about twenty +minutes, I did see a rabbit. He was hopping, at one side, through the +bushes; he gave only about three hops, and squatted, to let me pass. So +I stopped stock-still, and drew up my rifle. He was about thirty yards +away, and was just a bunch like a stone; but I held my breath and aimed +at where his ears joined his head, and fired quick. He just kicked a +little. That was a pretty good shot and I was glad, for I didn't want to +hurt him and we had to have meat.</p> + +<p>I hunted quite a while before I saw another rabbit. The next one was a +big old buck rabbit, because his hind quarters around his tail were +brown; young rabbits are white there. He hopped off, without stopping, +and I whistled at him—wheet! Then he stopped, and I missed him. I shot +over him, because I was in a hurry. I went across and saw where the +bullet had hit. And he had ducked.</p> + +<p>He hopped out of sight, through the brush; so I must figure where he +probably would go. On beyond was a hilly place, with rocks, and probably +he lived here—and rabbits usually make up-hill when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> they're +frightened. So I took a circle, to cut him off; and soon he hopped again +and squatted. This time I shot him through the head, where I aimed; so I +didn't hurt him, either. I picked him up and was starting back for camp, +because two rabbits were enough, when I heard somebody shouting. It +didn't sound like a Scout's shout, but I answered and waited and kept +answering, and in a few minutes a strange boy came running and walking +fast through the trees. He carried a single-barrel shotgun.</p> + +<p>He never would have seen me if I hadn't spoken; but when he wasn't more +than ten feet from me I said: "What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>He jumped and saw me standing. "Hello," he panted. "Was it you who was +shooting and calling?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you come on, then?" he scolded. He was angry.</p> + +<p>"Because you were coming," I said. "I stood still and called back, to +guide you."</p> + +<p>"What did you shoot at?"</p> + +<p>"Rabbits."</p> + +<p>He hadn't seen them before, but now he saw them on the ground. "Aw, +jiminy!" he exclaimed. "We've got something better than that, but we +can't make a fire and our matches are all wet and so are our blankets, +and we don't know what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> to do. There's another fellow with me. We're +lost."</p> + +<p>He was a sight; wet and dirty and sweaty from running, and scared.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing? Camping?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He nodded. "We started for Duck Lake, with nothing but blankets and what +grub we could carry; but we got to chasing around and we missed the +trail and now we don't know where we are. Gee, but we're wet and cold. +Where's your camp?"</p> + +<p>"Back on the ridge."</p> + +<p>"Got a fire?"</p> + +<p>"Uh huh," I nodded. "Sure."</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said. "We'll go and get the other fellow and then we'll +camp near you so as to have some fire."</p> + +<p>"All right," I said.</p> + +<p>He led off, and I picked up the rabbits and followed. He kept hooting, +and the other boy answered, and we went down into the gulch where the +creek flowed. Now, that was the dickens of a place to camp! Anybody +ought to know better than to camp down at the bottom of a narrow gulch, +where it is damp and nasty and dark. They did it because it was beside +the water, and because there was some soft grass that they could lie on. +(<i>Note 25.</i>)</p> + +<p>The other boy was about seventeen, and was huddled in a blanket, trying +to scratch a match and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> light wet paper. He wore a big Colt's +six-shooter on a cartridge belt about his waist.</p> + +<p>"Come out, Bat," called the boy with me. "Here's a kid from another +camp, where they have fire and things."</p> + +<p>Bat grunted, and they gathered their blankets and a frying-pan and other +stuff.</p> + +<p>"Lookee! This beats rabbit," said the first boy (his name was Walt); and +he showed me what they had killed. It was four grouse!</p> + +<p>Now, that was mean.</p> + +<p>"It's against the law to kill grouse yet," I told him.</p> + +<p>"Aw, what do we care?" he answered. "Nobody knows."</p> + +<p>"It's only a week before the season opens, anyhow," spoke Bat. "We got +the old mother and all her chickens. If we hadn't, somebody would, +later."</p> + +<p>Fellows like that are as bad as a forest fire. Just because of them, +laws are made, and they break them and the rest of us keep them.</p> + +<p>We climbed out of the gulch, and I was so mad I let them carry their own +things. The woods were dusky, and I laid a straight course for camp. It +was easy to find, because I knew that I had hunted with my back to it, +in sound of the water on my left. All we had to do was to follow through +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> ridge with the water on our right, and listen for voices.</p> + +<p>I tell you, that camp looked good. The boys had two fires, a big one to +dry us by and a little one to cook by. (<i>Note 26.</i>) One of the tarps had +been laid over a pole in crotched stakes, about four feet high, and tied +down at the ends (<i>Note 27</i>), for a dog-tent, and spruce trimmings and +brush had been piled behind for a wind-break and to reflect the heat. +Inside were the spruce needles that carpeted the ground and had been +kept dry by branches, and a second tarp had been laid to sleep on, with +the third tarp to cover us, on top of the blankets. The flags had been +set up. Fitzpatrick was cooking, Major Henry was dragging more wood to +burn, the fellows were drying damp stuff and stacking it safe under the +panniers, or else with their feet to the big blaze were drying +themselves, the burros were grazing close in. It was as light as day, +with the flames reflected on the trees and the flags, and it seemed just +like a trappers' bivouac.</p> + +<p>Then we walked into the circle; and when the fellows saw the rabbits +they gave a cheer. After I reported to General Ashley and turned the two +boys over to him, I cleaned the rabbits for supper.</p> + +<p>The two new boys, Bat and Walt, threw down their stuff and sat by the +fire to get warm. Bat still wore his big six-shooter. They dropped +their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> grouse in plain sight, but nobody said a word until Bat (he was +the larger one) spoke up, kind of grandly, when I was finishing the +rabbits:</p> + +<p>"There's some birds. If you'll clean 'em we'll help you eat 'em."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. We don't want them," answered General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"It's against the law."</p> + +<p>"Aw, what difference does that make now?" demanded Walt. "There aren't +any game wardens 'round. And it's only a week before the law goes out, +anyway."</p> + +<p>"But the grouse are dead, just the same," retorted General Ashley. "They +couldn't be any deader, no matter how long it is before the law opens, +or if a game warden was right here!" He was getting angry, and when he's +angry he isn't afraid to say anything, because he's red-headed.</p> + +<p>"You'd like to go and tell, then; wouldn't you!" they sneered.</p> + +<p>"I'd tell if it would do any good." And he would, too; and so would any +of us. "The game laws are made to be kept. Those were our grouse and you +stole them."</p> + +<p>"Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we happen to be a bunch of Boy Scouts. But what I mean is, that +we fellows who keep the law let the game live on purpose so that +everybody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> will have an equal chance at it, and then fellows like you +come along and kill it unfairly. See?"</p> + +<p>Humph! The two kids mumbled and kicked at the fire, as they sat; and Bat +said: "We've got to have something to eat. I suppose we can cook our own +meat, can't we?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you can," answered General Ashley, "if it'll taste good to +you."</p> + +<p>So, while Fitz was cooking on the small fire, they cleaned their own +birds (I didn't touch them) and cooked over some coals of the big fire. +But Fitz made bread enough for all, and there was other stuff; and the +general told them to help themselves. We didn't want to be mean. The +camp-fire is no place to be mean at. A mean fellow doesn't last long, +out camping.</p> + +<p>They had used bark for plates. They gave their fry-pan a hasty rub with +sticks and grass, and cleaned their knives by sticking them into the +ground; and then they squatted by the fire and lighted pipes. After our +dishes had been washed and things had been put away for the night, and +the burros picketed in fresh forage, we prepared to turn in. The clouds +were low and the sky was dark, and the air was damp and chilly; so +General Ashley said:</p> + +<p>"You fellows can bunk in with us, under the tarps. We can make room."</p> + +<p>But no! They just laughed. "Gwan," they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> said. "We're used to traveling +light. We just roll up in a blanket wherever we happen to be. We aren't +tenderfeet."</p> + +<p>Well, we weren't, either. But we tried to be comfortable. When you are +uncomfortable and sleep cold or crampy, that takes strength fighting it; +and we were on the march to get that message through. So we crawled into +bed, out of the wind and where the spruce branches partly sheltered us, +and our tarps kept the dampness out and the wind, too. The two fellows +opened their blankets (they had one apiece!) by the fire and lay down +and rolled up like logs and seemed to think that they were the smarter. +We let them, if they liked it so.</p> + +<p>The wind moaned through the trees; all about us the timber was dark and +lonesome. Only Apache and Sally, the burros, once in a while grunted as +they stood as far inside the circle as they could get; but snuggled in +our bed, low down, our heads on our coats, we were as warm as toast.</p> + +<p>During the night I woke up, to turn over. Now and then a drop of rain +hit the tarp tent. The fire was going again, and I could hear the two +fellows talking. They were sitting up, feeding it, and huddled Injun +fashion with their blankets over their shoulders, smoking their old +pipes, and thinking (I guessed) that they were doing something big, +being uncomfortable. But it takes more than such foolishness—wearing a +big six-shooter when there is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> nothing to shoot, and sleeping out in the +rain when cover is handy—to make a veteran. Veterans and real Scouts +act sensibly. (<i>Note 28.</i>)</p> + +<p>When next I woke and stretched, the sun was shining and it was time to +get up.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2><h3>A DISASTROUS DOZE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The two fellows were sound asleep when we turned out. They were lying in +the sun, rolled up and with their faces covered to keep the light away. +We didn't pay any attention to them, but had our wet rub and went ahead +attending to camp duties. After a while one of them (Walt, it was) +turned over, and wriggled, and threw the blanket off his face, and +blinked about. He was bleary-eyed and sticky-faced, as if he had slept +too hard but not long enough. And I didn't see how he had had enough air +to breathe.</p> + +<p>But he grinned, and yawned, and said: "You kids get up awful early. What +time is it?"</p> + +<p>"Six o'clock."</p> + +<p>He-haw! And he yawned some more. Then he sat up and let his blanket go +and kicked Bat. "Breakfast!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>That made Bat grunt and grumble and wriggle; and finally uncover, too. +They acted as if their mouths might taste bad, after the pipes.</p> + +<p>We hadn't made a big fire, of course; but breakfast was about ready, on +the little fire, and Fitz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> our cook sang out, according to our +regulations: "Chuck!"</p> + +<p>That was the camp's signal call.</p> + +<p>"If you fellows want to eat with us, draw up and help yourselves," +invited General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Sure," they answered; and they crawled out of their blankets, and got +their pieces of bark, and opened their knives, and without washing their +faces or combing their hair they fished into the dishes, for bacon and +bread and sorghum and beans.</p> + +<p>That was messy; but we wanted to be hospitable, so we didn't say +anything.</p> + +<p>"Where are you kids bound for, anyway?" asked Bat.</p> + +<p>"Over the Divide," told General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Why can't we go along?"</p> + +<p>That staggered us. They weren't our kind; and besides, we were all Boy +Scouts, and our party was big enough as it was. So for a moment nobody +answered. And then Walt spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Aw, we won't hurt you any. What you afraid of? We aren't tenderfeet, +and we'll do our share. We'll throw in our grub and we won't use your +dishes. We've got our own outfit."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. We'll have to vote on that," said General Ashley. "We're +a Patrol of Boy Scouts, traveling on business."</p> + +<p>"What's that—Boy Scouts?" demanded Bat.</p> + +<p>We explained, a little.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></p> + +<p>"Take us in, then," said Walt. "We're good scouts—ain't we, Bat?"</p> + +<p>But they weren't. They didn't know anything about Scouts and Scouts' +work.</p> + +<p>"We could admit you as recruits, on the march," said General Ashley. +"But we can't swear you in."</p> + +<p>"Aw, we'll join the gang now and you can swear us in afterwards," said +Bat.</p> + +<p>"Well," said General Ashley, doubtfully, "we'll take a vote."</p> + +<p>We all drew off to one side, and sat in council. It seemed to me that we +might as well let them in. That would be doing them a good turn, and we +might help them to be clean and straight and obey the laws. Boys who +seem mean as dirt, to begin with, often are turned into fine Scouts.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll all vote just as we feel about it," said General Ashley. "One +black-ball will keep them out. 'N' means 'No'; 'Y' means 'Yes.'"</p> + +<p>The vote was taken by writing with a pencil on bits of paper, and the +bits were put into General Ashley's hat. Everything was "Y"—and the +vote was unanimous to let them join. So everybody must have felt the +same about it as I did.</p> + +<p>General Ashley reported to them. "You can come along," he said; "but +you've got to be under discipline, the same as the rest of us. And if +you prove to be Scouts' stuff you can be sworn in later.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> But I'm only a +Patrol leader and I can't swear you."</p> + +<p>"Sure!" they cried. "We'll be under discipline. Who's the boss? You?"</p> + +<p>We had made a mistake. Here started our trouble. But we didn't know. We +thought that we were doing the right thing by giving them a chance. You +never can tell.</p> + +<p>They volunteered to wash the dishes, and went at it; and we let them +throw their blankets and whatever else they wanted to get rid of in with +the packs. We were late; and anyway we didn't think it was best to start +in fussing and disciplining; they would see how Scouts did, and perhaps +they would catch on that way. Only—</p> + +<p>"You'll have to cut that out," ordered General Ashley, as we were ready +to set out. He meant their pipes. They had stuck them in their mouths +and had lighted them.</p> + +<p>"What? Can't we hit the pipe?" they both cried.</p> + +<p>"Not with us," declared the general. "It's against the regulations."</p> + +<p>"Aw, gee!" they complained. "That's the best part of camping—to load up +the old pipe."</p> + +<p>"Not for a Scout. He likes fresh air," answered General Ashley. "He +needs his wind, too, and smoking takes the wind. Anyway, we're traveling +through the enemy's country, and a pipe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> smells, and it's against Scout +regulations to smoke."</p> + +<p>They stuffed their pipes into their pockets.</p> + +<p>"Who's the enemy?" they asked.</p> + +<p>"We're carrying a message and some other boys are trying to stop us. +That's all."</p> + +<p>"We saw some kids, on the other side of that ridge," they cried. +"They're from the same town you are. Are they the ones?"</p> + +<p>"What did they look like?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"One was a big kid with black eyes—" said Bat.</p> + +<p>"Aw, he wasn't big. The big kid had blue eyes," interrupted Walt.</p> + +<p>"How many in the party?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"Four," said Bat.</p> + +<p>"Five," said Walt.</p> + +<p>"Any horses?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What were the brands?"</p> + +<p>"We didn't notice," they said.</p> + +<p>"Was one horse a bay with a white nose, and another a black with a bob +tail?"</p> + +<p>"Guess so," they said.</p> + +<p>So we didn't know much more than we did before; we could only suspect. +Of course, there were other parties of boys camping, in this country. We +weren't the only ones. If Bat and Walt had been a little smart they +might have helped us. They didn't use their eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span></p> + +<p>We followed the ridge we were on, as far as we could, because it was +high and free from brush. General Ashley and Major Henry led, as usual, +with the burros behind (those burros would follow now like dogs, where +there wasn't any trail for them to pick out), and then the rest of us, +the two recruits panting in the rear. Bat had belted on his big +six-shooter, and Walt carried the shotgun.</p> + +<p>We traveled fast, as usual, when we could; that gave us more time in the +bad places. Pilot Peak stuck up, beyond some hills, ahead. We kept an +eye on him, for he was our landmark, now that we had broken loose from +trails. He didn't seem any nearer than he was the day before.</p> + +<p>The ridge ended in a point, beyond which was a broad pasture-like +meadow, with the creek winding in a semicircle through it. On across was +a steep range of timber hills—and Pilot Peak and some other peaks rose +beyond, with snow and rocks. In the flat a few cattle were grazing, like +buffalo, and we could see an abandoned cabin which might have been a +trapper's shack. It was a great scene; so free and peaceful and wild and +gentle at the same time.</p> + +<p>We weren't tired, but we halted by the stream in the flat to rest the +burros and to eat something. We took off the packs, and built a little +fire of dry sage, and made tea, while Sally and Apache took a good roll +and then grazed on weeds and flowers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> and everything. This was fine, +here in the sunshine, with the blue sky over and the timber sloping up +on all sides, and the stream singing.</p> + +<p>After we had eaten some bread and drunk some tea we Scouts rested, to +digest; but Bat and Walt the two recruits loafed off, down the creek, +and when they got away a little we could see them smoking. On top of +that, they hadn't washed the dishes. So I washed them.</p> + +<p>After a while they came back on the run, but they weren't smoking now. +"Say!" they cried, excited. "We found some deer-tracks. Let's camp back +on the edge of the timber, and to-night when the deer come down to drink +we'll get one!"</p> + +<p>That was as bad as shooting grouse. It wasn't deer season. They didn't +seem to understand.</p> + +<p>"Against the law," said General Ashley. "And we're on the march, to go +through as quick as we can. It's time to pack."</p> + +<p>"I'll pack one of those burros. I'll show you how," offered Bat. So we +let them go ahead, because they might know more than we. They led up +Sally, while Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson began to pack +Apache. The recruits threw on the pack, all right, and passed the rope; +but Sally moved because they were so rough, and Bat swore and kicked her +in the stomach.</p> + +<p>"Get around there!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Here! You quit that," scolded Fitzpatrick,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> first. "That's no way to +treat an animal." He was angry; we all were angry. (<i>Note 29.</i>)</p> + +<p>"It's the way to treat this animal," retorted Bat. "I'll kick her head +off if she doesn't stand still. See?"</p> + +<p>"No, you won't," warned General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"If you can pack a burro so well, pack her yourself, then," answered +Walt.</p> + +<p>"Fitzpatrick, you and Jim Bridger help me with Sally," ordered the +general; and we did. We threw the diamond hitch in a jiffy and the pack +stuck on as if it were glued fast.</p> + +<p>The two recruits didn't have much more to say; but when we took up the +march again they sort of sulked along, behind. We thought best to follow +up the creek, through the flat, instead of making a straight climb of +the timber beyond. That would have been hard work, and slow work, and +you can travel a mile in the open in less time than you can travel half +a mile through brush.</p> + +<p>A cattle trail led up through the flat. This flat closed, and then +opened by a little pass into another flat. We saw plenty of tracks where +deer had come down to the creek and had drunk. There were tracks of +bucks, and of does and of fawns. Walt and Bat kept grumbling and +talking. They wanted to stop off and camp, and shoot.</p> + +<p>Pilot Peak was still on our left; but toward evening the trail we were +following turned off from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> the creek and climbed through gooseberry and +thimbleberry bushes to the top of a plateau, where was a park of cedars +and flowers, and where was a spring. General Ashley dug in with his +heel, and we off-packs, to camp. It was a mighty good camping spot, +again. (<i>Note 30.</i>) The timber thickened, beyond, and there was no sense +in going on into it, for the night. Into the heel mark we stuck the +flagstaff.</p> + +<p>We went right ahead with our routine. The recruits had a chance to help, +if they wanted to. But they loafed. There was plenty of time before +sunset. The sun shone here half an hour or more longer than down below. +We were up pretty high; some of the aspens had turned yellow, showing +that there had been a frost, already. So we thought that we must be up +about ten thousand feet. The stream we followed had flowed swift, +telling of a steep grade.</p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand got out his camera, to take pictures. He never +wasted any time. Not ordinary camp pictures, you know, but valuable +pictures, of animals and sunsets and things. Jays and speckled +woodpeckers were hopping about, and a pine-squirrel sat on a limb and +scolded at us until he found that we were there to fit in and be company +for him. One side of the plateau fell off into rocks and cliffs, and a +big red ground-hog was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> lying out on a shelf in the sunset, and +whistling his call.</p> + +<p>Fitz was bound to have a picture of him, and sneaked around, to stalk +him and snap him, close. But just as he was started—"Bang!" I jumped +three feet; we all jumped. It was that fellow Bat. He had shot off his +forty-five Colt's, at the squirrel, and with it smoking in his hand he +was grinning, as if he had played a joke on us. He hadn't hit the +squirrel, but it had disappeared. The ground-hog disappeared, the jays +and the woodpeckers flew off, and after the report died away you +couldn't hear a sound or see an animal. The gun had given notice to the +wild life to vacate, until we were gone. And where that bullet hit, +nobody could tell.</p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick turned around and came back. He knew it wasn't much use +trying, now. We were disgusted, but General Ashley was the one to speak, +because he was Patrol leader.</p> + +<p>"You ought not to do that. Shooting around camp isn't allowed," he said. +"It's dangerous, and it scares things away."</p> + +<p>"I wanted that squirrel. I almost hit him, too," answered Bat.</p> + +<p>"Well, he was protected by camp law." (<i>Note 31.</i>)</p> + +<p>"Aw, all you kids are too fresh," put in Walt, the other. "We'll shoot +as much as we please, or else we'll pull out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you can't do as the rest of us do, all right: pull," answered the +general.</p> + +<p>"Let them. We don't want them," said Major Henry. "We didn't ask them in +the first place. What's the sense in carrying a big revolver around, and +playing tough!"</p> + +<p>"That will do, Henry," answered the general. "I'm talking for the +Patrol."</p> + +<p>"Come on, Walt. We'll take our stuff and pull out and make our own +camp," said Bat. "We won't be bossed by any red-headed kid—or any +one-armed kid, either." He was referring to the gun and to the burro +packing, both.</p> + +<p>Major Henry began to sputter and growl. A black-eyed boy is as spunky as +a red-headed one. And we all stood up, ready, if there was to be a +fight. But there wasn't. It wasn't necessary. General Ashley flushed +considerably, but he kept his temper.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he said. "If you can't obey discipline, like the +rest, you don't camp with us."</p> + +<p>"And we don't intend to, you bet," retorted Walt. "We're as good as you +are and a little better, maybe. We're no tenderfeet!"</p> + +<p>They gathered their blankets and their frying-pan and other outfit, and +they stalked off about a hundred yards, further into the cedars, and +dumped their things for their own camp.</p> + +<p>Maybe they thought that we'd try to make them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> get out entirely, but we +didn't own the place; it was a free camp for all, and as long as they +didn't interfere with us we had no right to interfere with them. We made +our fire and they started theirs; and then I was sent out to hunt for +meat again.</p> + +<p>I headed away from camp, and I got one rabbit and a great big +ground-hog. Some people won't eat ground-hog, but they don't know what +is good; only, he must be cleaned right away. Well, I was almost at camp +again when "Whish! Bang!" somebody had shot and had spattered all around +me, stinging my ear and rapping me on the coat and putting a couple of +holes in my hat. I dropped flat, in a hurry.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" I yelled. "Look out there! What you doing?"</p> + +<p>But it was "Bang!" again, and more shot whizzing by; this time none hit +me. Now I ran and sat behind a rock. And after a while I made for camp, +and I was glad to reach it.</p> + +<p>I was still some stirred up about being peppered, and so I went straight +to the other fire. The two fellows were there cleaning a couple of +squirrels.</p> + +<p>"Who shot them?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Walt."</p> + +<p>"And he nearly filled me full of holes, too," I said. "Look at my hat."</p> + +<p>"Who nearly filled you full of holes?" asked Walt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span></p> + +<p>"You did."</p> + +<p>"Aw, I didn't, either. I wasn't anywhere near you."</p> + +<p>"You were, too," I answered, hot. "You shot right down over the hill, +and when I yelled at you, you shot again."</p> + +<p>Walt was well scared.</p> + +<p>"'Twasn't me," he said. "I saw you start out and I went opposite."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to be careful, shooting in the direction of camp," I +said.</p> + +<p>"Didn't hurt you."</p> + +<p>"It might have put my eyes out, just the same." And I had to go back and +clean my game and gun. We had a good supper. The other fellows kept to +their own camp and we could smell them smoking cigarettes. With them +close, and with news that another crowd was out, we were obliged to +mount night guard.</p> + +<p>There was no use in two of us staying awake at the same time, and we +divided the night into four watches—eight to eleven, eleven to one, one +to three, three to five. The first watch was longest, because it was the +easiest watch. We drew lots for the partners who would sleep all night, +and Jed Smith and Major Henry found they wouldn't have to watch. We four +others would.</p> + +<p>Fitz went on guard first, from eight to eleven. At eleven he would wake +Carson, and would crawl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> into Carson's place beside of General Ashley. +At one Carson would wake me, and would crawl into my place where I was +alone. And at three I would wake General Ashley and crawl into his place +beside Fitz again. So we would disturb each other just as little as +possible and only at long intervals. (<i>Note 32.</i>)</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that I had the worst watch of all—from one to three; it +broke my night right in two. Of course a Scout takes what duty comes, +and says nothing. But jiminy, I was sleepy when Carson woke me and I had +to stagger out into the dark and the cold. He cuddled down in a hurry +into my warm nest and there I was, on guard over the sleeping camp, here +in the timber far away from lights or houses or people.</p> + +<p>The fire was out, but I could see by star shine. Low in the west was a +half moon, just sinking behind the mountains there. Down in the flat +which we had left coyotes were barking. Maybe they smelled fawns. +Somebody was snoring. That was fatty Jed Smith. He and Major Henry were +having a fine sleep. So were all the rest, under the whity tarps which +looked ghostly and queer.</p> + +<p>And I went to sleep, too!</p> + +<p>That was awful, for a Scout on guard. I don't know why I couldn't keep +awake, but I couldn't. I tried every way. I rubbed my eyes, and I dipped +water out of the spring and washed my face, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> I dropped the blanket I +was wearing, so that I would be cold. And I walked in a circle. Then I +thought that maybe if I sat down with the blanket about me, I would be +better off. So I sat down. If I could let my eyes close for just a +second, to rest them, I would be all right. And they did close—and when +I opened them I was sort of toppled over against the tree, and was stiff +and astonished—and it was broad morning and I hadn't wakened General +Ashley!</p> + +<p>I staggered up as quick as I could. I looked around. Things seemed to be +O. K. and quiet and peaceful—but suddenly I missed the flags, and then +I missed the burros!</p> + +<p>Yes, sir! The flagstaff was gone, leaving the hole where it had been +stuck. And the burros were gone, picket ropes and all! The place where +they ought to be appeared mighty vacant. And now I sure was frightened. +I hustled to the camp of the two boys, Bat and Walt, and they were gone. +That looked bad.</p> + +<p>My duty now was to arouse our camp and give the alarm, so I must wake +General Ashley. You can imagine how I hated to. I almost was sore +because he hadn't waked up, himself, at three o'clock, instead of +waiting for me and letting me sleep.</p> + +<p>But I shook him, and he sat up, blinking. I saluted. "It's after four +o'clock," I reported, "and I slept on guard and the flags and the burros +are gone." And then I wanted to cry, but I didn't.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2><h3>HELD BY THE ENEMY</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, the dickens!" stammered General Ashley; and out he rolled, in a +hurry. He didn't stop to blame me. "Have you looked for sign?"</p> + +<p>"The burros might have strayed, but the flags couldn't and only the hole +is there. And those two fellows of the other camp are gone, already."</p> + +<p>General Ashley began to pull on his shoes and lace them.</p> + +<p>"Rouse the camp," he ordered.</p> + +<p>So I did. And to every one I said: "I slept on guard and the flags and +the burros are gone."</p> + +<p>I was willing to be shot, or discharged, or anything; and I didn't have +a single solitary excuse. I didn't try to think one up.</p> + +<p>The general took Fitzpatrick, who is our best trailer, and Major Henry, +and started in to work out the sign, while the rest of us hustled with +breakfast. The ground about the flag hole was trampled and not much +could be done there; and not much could be done right where the burros +had stood, because we all from both camps had been roaming around. But +the general and Fitz and Major<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> Henry circled, wider and wider, watching +out for burro tracks pointing back down the trail, or else out into the +timber. The hoofs of the burros would cut in, where the feet of the two +fellows might not have left any mark. Pretty soon the burro tracks were +found, and boot-heels, too; and while Fitzpatrick followed the trail a +little farther the general and Major Henry came back to the camp. +Breakfast was ready.</p> + +<p>"Fitzpatrick and Jim Bridger and I will take the trail of the burros, +and you other three stay here," said General Ashley. "If we don't come +back by morning, or if you don't see smoke-signals from us that we're +all right, you cache the stuff and come after us."</p> + +<p>That was splendid of the general to give me a chance to make good on the +trail. It was better than if he'd ordered me close in camp, or had not +paid any attention to me.</p> + +<p>Fitz returned, puffing. He had followed the trail a quarter of a mile +and it grew plainer as the two fellows had hurried more. We ate a big +breakfast (we three especially, I mean), and prepared for the trail. We +tied on our coats in a roll like blankets, but we took no blankets, for +we must travel light. We stuffed some bread and chocolate into our coat +pockets, and we were certain that we had matches and knife. I took the +short bow and arrows, as game getter; but we left the rifle for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +camp. We would not have used a rifle, anyway. It made noise; and we must +get the burros by Scoutcraft alone. But those burros we would have, and +the flags. The general slung one of the Patrol's ropes about him, in +case we had to rope the burros.</p> + +<p>We set right out, Fitzpatrick leading, as chief trailer. Much depended +upon our speed, and that is why we traveled light; for you never can +follow a trail as fast as it was made, and we must overtake those +fellows by traveling longer. They were handicapped by the burros, +though, which helped us.</p> + +<p>We planned to keep going, and eat on the march, and by night sneak on +the camp.</p> + +<p>The trail wasn't hard to follow. Burro tracks are different from cow +tracks and horse tracks and deer tracks; they are small and +oblong—narrow like a colt's hoof squeezed together or like little mule +tracks. The two fellows used the cattle trail, and Fitzpatrick read the +sign for us.</p> + +<p>"They had to lead the burros," he said. "The burros' tracks are on top +of the sole tracks."</p> + +<p>We hurried. And then—</p> + +<p>"Now they're driving 'em," he said. "They're stepping on top of the +burro tracks; and I think that they're all on the trot, too, by the way +the burros' hind hoofs overlap the front hoofs, and dig in."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p> + +<p>We hurried more, at Scout pace, which is trotting and walking mixed. And +next—</p> + +<p>"Now they've got on the burros," said Fitz. "There aren't any sole +tracks and the burros' hoofs dig deeper."</p> + +<p>The fellows surely were making time. I could imagine how they kicked and +licked Sally and Apache, to hasten. And while we hastened, too, we must +watch the signs and be cautious that we didn't overrun or get ambushed. +Where the sun shone we could tell that the sign was still an hour or +more old, because the edges of the hoof-marks were baked hard; and +sticks and stones turned up had dried. And in the shade the bits of +needles and grass stepped on had straightened a little. And there were +other signs, but we chose those which we could read the quickest. (<i>Note +33.</i>)</p> + +<p>We were high up among cedars and bushes, on a big mesa. There were +cattle, here, and grassy parks for them. Most of the cattle bore a Big W +brand. The trail the cattle had made kept dividing and petering out, and +we had to pick the one that the burros took. The fellows were riding, +still, but not at a trot so much. Maybe they thought that we had been +left, by this time. Pretty soon the burros had been grabbing at branches +and weeds, which showed that they were going slower, and were hungry; +and the fellows had got off and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> were walking. The sun was high and the +air was dry, so that the signs were not so easy to read, and we went +slower, too. The country up here grew open and rocky, and at last we +lost the trail altogether. That was bad. The general and I circled and +scouted, at the sides, and Fitz went on ahead, to pick it up beyond, +maybe. Pretty soon we heard him whistle the Elks' call.</p> + +<p>He had come out upon a rocky point. The timber ended, and before and +right and left was a great rolling valley, of short grasses and just a +few scattered trees, with long slopes holding it like a cup. The sun was +shining down, and the air was clear and quivery.</p> + +<p>"I see them," said Fitz. "There they are, General—in a line between us +and that other point of rocks."</p> + +<p>Hurrah! This was great news. Sure enough, when we had bent low and +sneaked to the rocks, and were looking, we could make out two specks +creeping up the sunshine slope, among the few trees, opposite.</p> + +<p>That was good, and it was bad. The thieves were not a mile ahead of us, +then, but now we must scout in earnest. It would not do for us to keep +to the trail across that open valley. Some fellows might have rushed +right along; and if the other fellows were sharp they would be looking +back, at such a spot, to watch for pursuers. So we must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> make a big +circuit, and stay out of sight, and hit the trail again on the other +side.</p> + +<p>We crept back under cover, left a "warning" sign on the trail (<i>Note +34</i>), and swung around, and one at a time we crossed the valley higher +up, where it was narrower and there was brush for cover. This took time, +but it was the proper scouting; and now we hurried our best along the +other slope to pick up the trail once more.</p> + +<p>It was after noon, by the sun, and we hadn't stopped to eat, and we were +hungry and hot and pretty tired.</p> + +<p>As we never talked much on the trail, especially when we might be near +the enemy, Fitzpatrick made a sign that we climb straight to the top of +the slope and follow along there, to strike the trail. And if the +fellows had turned off anywhere, in gulch or to camp, we were better +fixed above them than below them.</p> + +<p>We scouted carefully along this ridge, and came to a gulch. A path led +through, where cattle had traveled, and in the damp dirt were the burro +tracks. Hurrah! They were soft and fresh.</p> + +<p>The sun was going to set early, in a cloud bank, and those fellows would +be camping soon. It was no use to rush them when they were traveling; +they had guns and would hang on to the burros. The way to do was to +crawl into their camp. So we traveled slower, in order to give them time +to camp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> + +<p>After a while we smelled smoke. The timber was thick, and the general +and I each climbed a tree, to see where that smoke came from. I was away +at the top of a pine, and from that tree the view was grand. Pilot Peak +stood up in the wrong direction, as if we had been going around, and +mountains and timber were everywhere. I saw the smoke. And away to the +north, ten miles, it seemed to me I could see another smoke, with the +sun showing it up. It was a column smoke, and I guessed that it was a +smoke signal set by the three Scouts we had left, to show us where camp +was.</p> + +<p>But the smoke that we were after rose in a blue haze above the trees +down in a little park about a quarter of a mile on our right. We left a +"warning" sign, and stalked the smoke.</p> + +<p>Although Fitzpatrick has only one whole arm, he can stalk as well as any +of us. We advanced cautiously, and could smell the smoke stronger and +stronger; we began to stoop and to crawl and when we had wriggled we +must halt and listen. We could not hear anybody talking.</p> + +<p>The general led, and Fitz and I crawled behind him, in a snake scout. I +think that maybe we might have done better if we had stalked from three +directions. Everything was very quiet, and when we could see where the +fire ought to be we made scarcely a sound. The general brushed out of +his way any twigs that would crack.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a fine stalk. We approached from behind a cedar, and parting the +branches the general looked through. He beckoned to us, and we wriggled +along and looked through. There was a fire, and our flags stuck beside +it, and Sally and Apache standing tied to a bush, and blankets thrown +down—but not anybody at home! The two fellows must be out fishing or +hunting, and this seemed a good chance.</p> + +<p>The general signed. We all were to rush in, Fitz would grab the flag, +and I a burro and the general a burro, and we would skip out and travel +fast, across country.</p> + +<p>I knew that by separating and turning and other tricks we would outwit +those two kids, if we got any kind of a start.</p> + +<p>We listened, holding our breath. Nobody seemed near. Now was the time. +The general stood, Fitz and I stood, and in we darted. Fitz grabbed the +flag, and I was just hauling at Sally while the general slashed the +picket-ropes with his knife, when there rose a tremendous yell and laugh +and from all about people charged in on us.</p> + +<p>Before we could escape we were seized. They were eight to our three. Two +of them were the two kids Bat and Walt, and the other six were town +fellows—Bill Duane, Tony Matthews, Bert Hawley, Mike Delavan, and a +couple more.</p> + +<p>How they whooped! We felt cheap. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> camp had been a trap. The two kids +Bat and Walt had come upon the other crowd accidentally, and had told +about us and that maybe we were trailing them, and they all had ambushed +us. We ought to have reconnoitered more, instead of thinking about +stalking. We ought to have been more suspicious, and not have +underestimated the enemy. (<i>Note 35.</i>) This was just a made-to-order +camp. The camp of the town gang was about three hundred yards away, +lower, in another open place, by a creek. They tied our arms and led us +down there.</p> + +<p>"Aw, we thought you fellers were Scouts!" jeered Bat. "You're easy."</p> + +<p>He and Walt took the credit right to themselves.</p> + +<p>"What do you want with us?" demanded General Ashley, of Bill Duane. "We +haven't done anything to harm you."</p> + +<p>"We'll show you," said Bill. "First we're going to skin you, and then +we're going to burn you at the stake, and then we're going to kill you."</p> + +<p>Of course we knew that he was only fooling; but it was a bad fix, just +the same. They might keep us, for meanness; and Major Henry and Kit +Carson and Jed Smith wouldn't know exactly what to do and we'd be +wasting valuable time. That was the worst: we were delaying the message! +And I had myself to blame for this, because I went to sleep on guard. A +little mistake may lead to a lot of trouble.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></p> + +<p>And now the worst happened. When they got us to the main camp Bill Duane +walked up to General Ashley and said: "Where you got that message, Red?"</p> + +<p>"What message?" answered General Ashley.</p> + +<p>"Aw, get out!" laughed Bill. "If we untie you will you fork it over or +do you want me to search you?"</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't your message, and if I had it I wouldn't give it to you. But +you'd better untie us, just the same. And we want those burros and our +flags."</p> + +<p>"Hold him till I search him, fellows," said Bill. "He's got it, I bet. +He's the Big Scout."</p> + +<p>Fitz and I couldn't do a thing. One of the gang put his arm under the +general's chin and held him tight, and Bill Duane went through him. He +didn't find the message in any pockets; but he saw the buckskin thong, +and hauled on it, and out came the packet from under the general's +shirt.</p> + +<p>Bill put it in his own pocket.</p> + +<p>"There!" he said. "Now what you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>The general was as red all over as his hair and looked as if he wanted +to fight or cry. Fitz was white and red in spots, and I was so mad I +shook.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, now," said the general, huskily. "You don't give us a chance +to do anything. You're a lot of cowards—tying us up and searching us, +and taking our things."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-004" id="illus-004"></a> +<img src="images/illus-078.jpg" alt=""BILL DUANE WENT THROUGH HIM."" title="" width="363" height="566" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"BILL DUANE WENT THROUGH HIM."</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span>Then they laughed at us some more, and all jeered and made fun, and said +that they would take the message through for us. I tell you, it was +humiliating, to be bound that way, as prisoners, and to think that we +had failed in our trust. As Scouts we had been no good—and I was to +blame just because I had fallen asleep at my post.</p> + +<p>They were beginning to quit laughing at us, and were starting to get +supper, when suddenly I heard horse's hoofs, and down the bridle path +that led along an edge of the park rode a man. He heard the noise and he +saw us tied, I guess, for he came over.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The gang calmed down in a twinkling. They weren't so brash, now.</p> + +<p>"Nothin'," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Who you got here? What's the rumpus?" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"They've taken us prisoners and are keeping us, and they've got our +burros and flags and a message," spoke up the general.</p> + +<p>He was a small man with a black mustache and blackish whiskers growing. +He rode a bay horse with a K Cross on its right shoulder, and the saddle +had brass-bound stirrups. He wore a black slouch hat and was in black +shirt-sleeves, and ordinary pants and shoes.</p> + +<p>"What message?" he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>"A message we were carrying."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Across from our town to Green Valley."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Just for fun."</p> + +<p>"Aw, that's a lie. They were to get twenty-five dollars for doing it on +time. Now we cash it in ourselves," spoke Bill. "It was a race, and they +don't make good. See?"</p> + +<p>That was a lie, sure. We weren't to be paid a cent—and we didn't want +to be paid.</p> + +<p>"Who's got the message now?" asked the man.</p> + +<p>"He has," said the general, pointing at Bill.</p> + +<p>"Let's see it."</p> + +<p>Bill backed away.</p> + +<p>"I ain't, either," he said. Which was another lie.</p> + +<p>"Let's see it," repeated the man. "I might like to make that twenty-five +dollars myself."</p> + +<p>Now Bill was sorry he had told that first lie. The first is the one that +gives the most trouble.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he said, scared, and backing away some more.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind who I am," answered the man—biting his words off short; +and he rode right for Bill. He stuck his face forward. It was hard and +dark and mean. "Hand—over—that—message. Savvy?"</p> + +<p>Bill was nothing but a big bluff and a coward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> You would have known +that he was a coward, by the lies he had told and by the way he had +attacked us. He wilted right down.</p> + +<p>"Aw, I was just fooling," he said. "I was going to give it back to 'em. +Here 'tis. There ain't no prize offered, anyhow." And he handed it to +the man.</p> + +<p>The man turned it over in his fingers. We watched. We hoped he'd make +them untie us and he'd pass it to us and tell us to skip. But after he +had turned it over and over, he smiled, kind of grimly, and stuck it in +his hip pocket.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'd like to make that twenty-five dollars myself," he said. +And then he rode to one side, and dismounted; he loosened the cinches +and made ready as if to camp. And they all let him.</p> + +<p>Now, that was bad for us, again. The gang had our flags and our burros, +and he had our message.</p> + +<p>"That's our message. We're carrying it through just for fun and for +practice," called the general. "It's no good to anybody except us."</p> + +<p>"Bueno," said the man—which is Mexican or Spanish for "Good." He was +squatting and building a little fire.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to give it to us and make them let us go?"</p> + +<p>He grunted. "Don't bother me. I'm busy."</p> + +<p>That was all we could get out of him. Now it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> was growing dark and cold. +The gang was grumbling and accusing Bill of being "bluffed" and all +that, but they didn't make any effort to attack the man. They all were +afraid of him; they didn't have nerve. They just grumbled and talked of +what Bill ought to have done, and proceeded to cook supper and to loaf +around. Our hands were behind our backs and we were tied like dogs to +trees.</p> + +<p>And suddenly, while watching the man, I noticed that he was doing things +left-handed, and quick as a wink I saw that the sole of his left shoe +was worn through! And if he wasn't riding a roan horse, he was riding a +saddle with brass-bound stirrups, anyway. A man may trade horses, but he +keeps to his own saddle. This was the beaver man! We three Scouts +exchanged signs of warning.</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to tie us for all night, are you?" demanded +Fitzpatrick.</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"We'll give you our parole not to try to escape," offered General +Ashley.</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"We'll promise," I explained.</p> + +<p>Then they all jeered.</p> + +<p>"Aw, promise!" they laughed. "We know all about your promises."</p> + +<p>"Scouts don't break their promises," answered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> the general, hot. "When +we give our parole we mean it. And if we decided to try to escape we'd +tell you and take the parole back. We want to be untied so we can eat."</p> + +<p>"All right. We'll untie you," said Bill; and I saw him wink at the other +fellows.</p> + +<p>They did. They loosened our hands—but they put ropes on our feet! We +could just walk, and that is all. And Walt (he and Bat were cooking) +poked the fire with our flagstaff. Then he sat on the flags! I tell you, +we were angry!</p> + +<p>"This doesn't count," sputtered the general, red as fury.</p> + +<p>"You gave us your parole if we'd untie you," jeered Bill. "And we did."</p> + +<p>"But you tied us up again."</p> + +<p>"We didn't say anything about that. You said if we'd untie you, so you +could eat, you wouldn't run away. Well, we untied you, didn't we?"</p> + +<p>"That isn't fair. You know what we meant," retorted Fitz.</p> + +<p>"We know what you said," they laughed.</p> + +<p>"Aw, cut it out," growled the man, from his own fire. "You make too much +noise. I'm tired."</p> + +<p>"Chuck," called Walt, for supper.</p> + +<p>They stuck us between them, and we all ate. Whew, but it was a dirty +camp. The dishes weren't clean and the stuff to eat was messy, and the +fellows all swore and talked as bad as they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> could. It was a shame—and +it seemed a bigger shame because here in the park everything was +intended to be quiet and neat and ought to make you feel <i>good</i>.</p> + +<p>After supper they quarreled as to who would wash the dishes, and finally +one washed and one wiped, and the rest lay around and smoked pipes and +cigarettes. Over at his side of the little park the man had rolled up +and was still. But I knew that he was watching, because he was smoking, +too.</p> + +<p>We couldn't do anything, even if we had planned to. We might have untied +the ropes on our feet, but the gang sat close about us. Then, they had +the flags and the burros, and the man had the message; and if they had +been wise they would have known that we wouldn't go far. Of course, we +might have hung about and bothered them.</p> + +<p>They made each of us sleep with one of them. They had some dirty old +quilts, and we all rolled up.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2><h3>A NEW USE FOR A CAMERA</h3> +</div> + +<p>We were stiff when we woke in the morning, but we had to lie until the +rest of them decided to get up, and then it was hot and late. That was a +lazy camp as well as a dirty one. The early morning is the best part of +the day, out in the woods, but lots of fellows don't seem to think so.</p> + +<p>I had slept with Bat, and he had snored 'most all night. Now as soon as +I could raise my head from the old quilts I looked over to see the man. +He wasn't there. His horse wasn't there and his fire wasn't burning. The +spot where he had camped was vacant. He had gone, with our message!</p> + +<p>I wriggled loose from Bat and woke him, and he swore and tried to make +me lie still, but I wouldn't. Not much!</p> + +<p>"Red!" I called, not caring whether I woke anybody else or not. "Red! +General!" I used both names—and I didn't care for that, either.</p> + +<p>He wriggled, too, to sit up.</p> + +<p>"What?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> + +<p>"The man's gone. He isn't there. He's gone with the message!"</p> + +<p>The general exclaimed, and worked to jerk loose from Bill; and Fitz's +head bobbed up. There wasn't any more sleep for that camp, now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up!" growled Bill.</p> + +<p>"You fellows turn us loose," we ordered. "We've got to go. We've got to +follow that man."</p> + +<p>But they wouldn't, of course. They just laughed, and said: "No, you +don't want to go. You've given us your parole; see?" and they pulled us +down into the quilts again, and yawned and would sleep some more, until +they found it was no use, and first one and then another kicked off the +covers and sat up, too.</p> + +<p>The sun was high and all the birds and bees and squirrels were busy for +the day. At least two hours had been wasted, already.</p> + +<p>Half of the fellows didn't wash at all, and all we Scouts were allowed +to do was to wash our faces, with a lick and a promise, at the creek, +under guard. We missed our morning cold wet rub. The camp hadn't been +policed, and seemed dirtier than ever. Tin cans were scattered about, +and pieces of bacon and of other stuff, and there was nothing sanitary +or regular. Our flags were dusty and wrinkled; and that hurt. The only +thing homelike was Apache and Sally, our burros, grazing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> on weeds and +grass near the camp. But they didn't notice us particularly.</p> + +<p>We didn't have anything more to say. The fellows began to smoke +cigarettes and pipes as soon as they were up, and made the fire and +cooked some bacon and fried some potatoes, and we all ate, with the +flies buzzing around. A dirty camp attracts flies, and the flies stepped +in all sorts of stuff and then stepped in our food and on us, too. Whew! +Ugh!</p> + +<p>We would have liked to make a smoke signal, to let Major Henry and Jed +Smith and Kit Carson know where we were, but there seemed no way. They +would be starting out after us, according to instructions, and we didn't +want them to be captured. We knew that they would be coming, because +they were Scouts and Scouts obey orders. They can be depended upon.</p> + +<p>I guess it was ten o'clock before we were through the messy breakfast, +and then most of the gang went off fishing and fooling around.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to untie our feet?" asked the general.</p> + +<p>"Do you give us your promise not to skip?" answered Bill.</p> + +<p>"We'll give our parole till twelve o'clock."</p> + +<p>We knew what the general was planning. By twelve o'clock something might +happen—the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> Scouts might be near, then, and we wanted to be free +to help them.—</p> + +<p>"Will you give us your parole if we tie your feet, loose, instead of +your hands?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the general; and Fitzpatrick and I nodded. Jiminy, we didn't +want our hands tied, on this hot day.</p> + +<p>So they hobbled our feet, and tethered us to a tree. They tied the knots +tight—knot after knot; and then they went off laughing, but they left +Walt and Bat to watch us! That wasn't fair. It broke our parole for us, +really, for they hadn't accepted it under the conditions we had offered +it. (<i>Note 36.</i>)</p> + +<p>"Don't you fellows get to monkeying, now," warned Bat, "or we'll tie you +tighter. If you skip we've got your burros and your flags."</p> + +<p>That was so.</p> + +<p>"We know that," replied the general, meekly; but I could see that he was +boiling, inside.</p> + +<p>It was awful stupid, just sitting, with those two fellows watching. Bat +wore his big revolver, and Walt had his shotgun. They smoked their +bad-smelling pipes, and played with an old deck of cards. Camping +doesn't seem to amount to much with some fellows, except as a place to +be dirty in and to smoke and play cards. They might as well be in town.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shall we escape?" I signed to the general. (<i>Note 37.</i>)</p> + +<p>"No," he signed back. "Wait till twelve o'clock." He was going to keep +our word, even if we did have a right to break it.</p> + +<p>"Hand me my camera, will you, please?" asked Fitz, politely.</p> + +<p>"What do you want of it?" demanded Walt.</p> + +<p>"I want to use it. We haven't anything else to do."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Walt; he tossed it over. "Take pictures of yourselves, and +show folks how you smart Scouts were fooled."</p> + +<p>I didn't see what Fitz could use his camera on, here. And he didn't seem +to be using it. He kept it beside him, was all. There weren't any +animals around this kind of a camp. But the general and I didn't ask him +any questions. He was wise, was old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and +probably he had some scheme up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>We just sat. The two fellows played cards and smoked and talked rough +and loud, and wasted their time this way. The sun was mighty hot, and +they yawned and yawned. Tobacco smoking so much made them stupid. But we +yawned, too. The general made the sleep sign to Fitz and me, and we +nodded. The general and I stretched out and were quiet. I really was +sleepy; we had had a hard night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<p>"You fellows going to sleep?" asked Walt.</p> + +<p>We grunted at him.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll tie your hands and we'll go to sleep," he said. "Come on, +Bat. Maybe it's a put-up job."</p> + +<p>"No, sir; that wasn't in the bargain," objected the general.</p> + +<p>"Aw, we got your parole till twelve o'clock, but we're going to tie you +anyway," replied that Walt. "We didn't say how long we'd leave your +hands loose. We aren't going to sit around and keep awake, watching you +guys. When we wake up we untie you again."</p> + +<p>We couldn't do anything; and they tied the general's hands and my hands, +but Fitzpatrick begged off.</p> + +<p>"I want to use my camera," he claimed. "And I've got only one hand +anyway. I can't untie knots with one hand."</p> + +<p>They didn't know how clever Fitz was; so they just moved him and +fastened him by the waist to a tree where he couldn't reach us.</p> + +<p>"We'll be watching and listening," they warned. "And if you try any +foolishness you'll get hurt."</p> + +<p>They stretched out, and pretended to snooze. I didn't see, myself, how +Fitz could untie those hard knots with his one hand, in time to do any +good. They were hard knots, drawn tight, and the rope was a +clothes-line; and he was set against a tree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> with the rope about his +body and the knots behind him on the other side of the tree. I didn't +believe that Bat and Walt would sleep hard; but while I waited to see +what would happen next, I dozed off, myself.</p> + +<p>Something tapped me on the head, and I woke up in a jiffy. Fitz must +have tossed a twig at me, because when I looked over at him he made the +silence sign. He was busy; and what do you think? He had taken his +camera apart, and unscrewed the lenses, and had focused on the rope +about him. He had wriggled so that the sun shone on the lenses, and a +little spire of smoke was rising from him. Bat and Walt were asleep; +they never made a move, but they both snored. And Fitz was burning his +rope in two, on his body.</p> + +<p>It didn't take very long, because the sun was so hot and the lenses were +strong. The rope charred and fumed, and he snapped it; and then he began +on his feet. Good old Fitz! If only he got loose before those two +fellows woke. The general was watching him, too.</p> + +<p>Walt grunted and rolled over and bleared around, and Fitz quit +instantly, and sat still as if tied and fooling with his camera. Walt +thought that everything was all right and rolled over; and after a +moment Fitz continued. Pretty soon he was through. And now came the most +ticklish time of all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></p> + +<p>He waited and made a false move or two, to be certain that Walt and Bat +weren't shamming; and then he snapped the rope about his body and +gradually unwound it and then he snapped the rope that bound together +his feet. Now he began to crawl for the two fellows. Inch by inch he +moved along, like an Indian; and he never made a sound. That was good +scouting for anybody, and especially for a one-armed boy, I tell you! +The general and I scarcely breathed. My heart thumped so that I was +afraid it would shake the ground.</p> + +<p>When he got near enough, Fitz reached cautiously, and pulled away the +shotgun. Like lightning he opened the breech and shook loose the shell +and kicked it out of the way—and when he closed the breech with a jerk +Bat woke up.</p> + +<p>"You keep quiet," snapped Fitz. His eyes were blazing. "If either of you +makes a fuss, I'll pull the trigger." He had the gun aiming straight at +them both. Walt woke, too, and was trying to discover what happened. "Be +quiet, now!"</p> + +<p>Those two fellows were frightened stiff. The gun looked ugly, with its +round muzzle leveled at their stomachs, and Fitz behind, his cheeks red +and his eyes angry and steady. But it was funny, too; he might have +pulled trigger, but nothing would have happened, because the gun wasn't +loaded. Of course none of us Scouts would have shot anybody and had +blood on our hands. Fitz had thrown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> away the shell on purpose so that +there wouldn't be any accident. It's bad to point a gun, whether loaded +or not, at any one. This was a have-to case. Bat and Walt didn't know. +They were white as sheets, and lay rigid.</p> + +<p>"Don't you shoot. Look out! That gun might go off," they pleaded; we +could hear their teeth chatter. "If you won't point it at us we'll do +anything you say."</p> + +<p>"You bet you'll do anything I say," snapped Fitz, very savage. "You had +us, and now we have you! Unbuckle that belt, you Bat. Don't you touch +the revolver, though. I'm mad and I mean business."</p> + +<p>Bat's fingers trembled and he fussed at the belt and unbuckled it, and +off came belt and revolver, and all.</p> + +<p>"Toss 'em over."</p> + +<p>He tossed them. Fitz put his foot on them.</p> + +<p>"Aw, what do you let that one-armed kid bluff you for?" began Walt; and +Fitz caught him up as quick as a wink.</p> + +<p>"What are <i>you</i> talking about?" he asked. "I'll give you a job, too. You +take your knife and help cut those two Scouts loose."</p> + +<p>"Ain't got a knife," grumbled Walt.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have. I've seen it. Will you, or do you want me to pull +trigger?"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't dare."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wouldn't I? You watch this finger."</p> + +<p>"Look out, Walt!" begged Bat. "He will! I know he will! See his finger? +He might do it by accident. Quit, Fitz. We'll cut 'em."</p> + +<p>"Don't get up. Just roll," ordered Fitz.</p> + +<p>They rolled. He kept the muzzle right on them. Walt cut me free (his +hands were shaking as bad as Bat's), and Bat cut the general free.</p> + +<p>We stood up. But there wasn't time for congratulations, or anything like +that. No. We must skip.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" bade Fitz. "Tie their feet. My rope will do; it was a long +one."</p> + +<p>"How'd <i>you</i> get loose?" snarled Walt.</p> + +<p>"None of your business," retorted Fitz.</p> + +<p>We pulled on the knots hard—and they weren't any granny knots, either, +that would work loose. We tied their feet, and then with a bowline noose +tied their elbows behind their backs—which was quicker than tying their +wrists. (<i>Note 38.</i>)</p> + +<p>Fitz dropped the shotgun and grabbed his camera.</p> + +<p>"You gave your parole," whined Bat.</p> + +<p>"It's after twelve," answered the general.</p> + +<p>And then Walt uttered a tremendous yell—and there was an answering +whoop near at hand. The rest of the gang were coming back.</p> + +<p>"Run!" ordered the general. "Meet at the old camp."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p>We ran, and scattered. We didn't stop for the burros, or anything more, +except that as I passed I grabbed up the bow and arrows and with one +jerk I ripped our flags loose from the pole, where it was lying.</p> + +<p>This delayed me for a second. Walt and Bat were yelling the alarm, and +feet were hurrying and voices were answering. I caught a glimpse of the +general and Fitz plunging into brush at one side, and I made for another +point.</p> + +<p>"There they go! Stop 'em!" were calling Walt and Bat.</p> + +<p>Tony Matthews was coming so fast that he almost dived into me; but I +dodged him and away I went, into the timber and the brush, with him +pelting after. Now all the timber was full of cries and threats, and +"Bang! Bang!" sounded a gun. But I didn't stop to look around. I +scudded, with Tony thumping behind me.</p> + +<p>"You halt!" ordered Tony. "Head him off!" he called.</p> + +<p>I dodged again, around a cedar, and ran in a new direction, up a slope, +through grass and just a sprinkling of trees. Now was the time to prove +what a Scout's training was good for, in giving him lungs and legs and +endurance. So I ran at a springy lope, up-hill, as a rabbit does. Two +voices were panting at me; I saved my breath for something better than +talk. The puffing grew fainter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> and finally when I couldn't hear it, or +any other sound near, I did halt and look around.</p> + +<p>The pursuit was still going on behind and below, near where the gang's +camp was. I could hear the shouts, and "Bang! Bang!" but shouts and +shooting wouldn't capture the general and Fitz, I knew. Tony and the +other fellow who had been chasing me had quit—and now I saw the general +and Fitz. They must have had to double and dodge, because they had not +got so far away: but here they came, out from the trees, into an open +space, across from me, and they were running strong and swift for the +slope beyond. If it was a case of speed and wind, none of that smoking, +flabby crowd could catch them.</p> + +<p>Fitz was ahead, the general was about ten feet behind, and much farther +behind streamed the gang, Bill Delaney leading and the rest lumbering +after. Tony and the other fellow had flopped down, and never stirred to +help. They were done for.</p> + +<p>It was quite exciting, to watch; and as the general and Fitz were +drawing right away and escaping, I wanted to cheer. They turned sharp to +make straight up-hill—and then the general fell. He must have slipped. +He picked himself up almost before he had touched the ground and plunged +on, but down he toppled, like a wounded deer. Fitzpatrick, who was +climbing fast off at one side, saw.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hurt?" I heard him call.</p> + +<p>"No," answered the general. "Go on."</p> + +<p>But Fitz didn't keep on. He turned and came right to him, although the +enemy was drawing close. The general staggered up, and sat down again.</p> + +<p>I knew what was being said, now, although I couldn't hear anything +except the jeers of the gang as they increased speed. The general was +hurt, and he was telling Fitz to go and save himself, and Fitz wouldn't. +He sat there, too, and waited. Then, just as the gang closed in, and +Bill Delaney reached to grab Fitz, the general saw me and made me the +sign to go on, and the sign of a horse and rider.</p> + +<p>Yes, that was my part, now. I was the one who must follow the beaver +man, who had taken our message. The message was the most important +thing. We must get that through no matter what happened. And while Fitz +and the general could help each other, inside, I could be trailing the +message, and maybe finding Henry and Carson and Smith, outside.</p> + +<p>So I started on. The enemy was leading the general, who could just +hobble, and Fitz, back to the camp. Loyal old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +who had helped his comrade instead of saving himself!</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2><h3>JIM BRIDGER ON THE TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>I turned, and climbed the hill. It was a long hill, and hot, but I +wanted to get up where I could see. The top was grassy and bare, and +here I stopped, to find out where things were.</p> + +<p>Off in one direction (which was southwest, by the sun) rose Pilot Peak, +rocky and snowy, with the main range stretching on either side of it. +But between Pilot Peak and me there lay a big country of heavy timber. +Yes, in every direction was heavy timber. I had run without thinking, +and now it was pretty hard to tell exactly where I was.</p> + +<p>I stood for a minute and tried to figure in what direction that beaver +man probably had ridden. He had come in on our left, as we sat, and had +probably gone along toward our right. I tried to remember which way the +shadows had fallen, in the sunset, and which way west had been, from our +right or left as we were sitting.</p> + +<p>Finally I was quite certain that the shadows had fallen sort of +quartering, from right to left, and so the man probably had made toward +the west.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> It was a good thing that I had noticed the shadows, but to +notice little things is a Scout's training.</p> + +<p>I stuffed the flags inside my shirt, and tied my coat about me; only one +arrow was left, out of six; the five others must have fallen when I was +running. And I was hungry and didn't have a thing to eat, because when +the gang had captured us they had taken our bread and chocolate, along +with our match-boxes and knives and other stuff. That was mean of them. +But with a look about for smoke signals I took my bow and started across +the top of the hill.</p> + +<p>It was to be the lone trail and the hungry trail for Jim Bridger. But he +had slept on post, and he was paying for it. Now if he (that was I, you +know) only could get back that message, and thus make good, he wouldn't +mind lonesomeness or hunger or thirst or tiredness or wet or anything.</p> + +<p>I wasn't afraid of the gang overtaking me or finding me, if I kept my +wits about me. And after I was over the brow of the hill I swung into +the west, at Scouts' pace of trot and walk mixed. This took me along the +top of the hill, to a draw or little valley that cut through. The draw +was thick with spruces and pines and was brushy at the bottom, so I went +around the head of it. That was easier than climbing down and up +again—and the draw would have been a bad place to be cornered in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></p> + +<p>I watched out for trails, but I did not cross a thing, and I began to +edge down to strike that stream which passed the gang's camp. Often +trails follow along streams, where the cattle and horses travel. The man +who had our message might have used this trail but although I edged and +edged, keeping right according to the sun, I didn't strike that stream. +Up and down and up again, through the trees and through the open places +I toiled and sweated; and every time I came out upon a ridge, expecting +to be at the top of somewhere, another ridge waited; and every time I +reached the bottom of a draw or gulch, expecting that here was my stream +or a trail, or both, I found that I was fooled again.</p> + +<p>This up and down country covered by timber is a mighty easy country to +be lost in. I wasn't lost—the stream was lost. No, I wasn't lost; but +when I came out upon a rocky ridge, and climbed to the top of a bunch of +granite there, the world was all turned around. Pilot Peak had changed +shape and was behind me when it ought to have been before. West was +west, because the sun was setting in it, but it seemed queer. You see, I +had been zigzagging about to make easy climbs out of draws and gulches, +and to dodge rocks and brush—and here I was. (<i>Note 39.</i>)</p> + +<p>You may believe that now I was mighty hungry and thirsty, and I was +tired, too. This was a fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> place to see from, and I sat on a ledge and +looked about, mapping the country. That was Pilot Peak, away off on the +left; and that was the Medicine Range, on either side of it. It was the +range that we Scouts must cross, if ever we got to it. But between me +and the range lay miles of rolling timber, and all about below me lay +the timber, with here and there bare rocky points sticking up like the +tips of breakers in an ocean and here and there little winding valleys, +like the oily streaks in the ocean. Away off in one valley seemed to be +a cleared field where grain had been cut; but no ranch house was there. +It was just a patch. In all this big country I was the only +inhabitant—I and the wild things.</p> + +<p>Well, I must camp for the night. The sun was setting behind the +mountains. If I tried traveling blind by night I might get all tangled +up in the timber and brush and be in a bad fix. Up here it was dry and +open and the rocks would shelter me from the wind. I tried to be calm +and reasonable and use Scout sense; and I decided to stay right where I +was, till morning.</p> + +<p>But jiminy, I was hungry and thirsty, and I wanted a fire, too. This was +pretty good experience, to be lost without food or drink or matches, or +even a knife—it was pretty good experience if I managed right.</p> + +<p>There were plenty of dead dried branches scattered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> here among the +rocks, and pack-rats had made a nest of firewood. But first, as seemed +to me, I must get a drink and something for supper. I had only that one +arrow to depend on, for game, and if I waited much longer then I might +lose it in the dusk. Not an easy shot had shown itself, either, during +all the time I had been traveling.</p> + +<p>Water was liable to be down there somewhere, in those valleys, and I +looked to see which was the greenest or which had any willows. To the +greenest it seemed a long way. Then I had a clue. I saw a flock of +grouse. They sailed out from the timber and across and slanted down into +a gulch. More followed. They acted as if they were bound somewhere on +purpose, and I remembered that grouse usually drink before they go to +bed.</p> + +<p>These were so far away, below me, that I couldn't make out whether they +were sage grouse, or the blue grouse, or the fool grouse. If they were +sage grouse, I might not get near enough to them to shoot sure with my +one arrow. If they were blue grouse, that would be bad, too, for blue +grouse are sharp. If they were fool grouse, I ought to get one. I marked +exactly where they sailed for, and down I went, keeping my eye on the +spot. Now I must use Scoutcraft for water and food. If I couldn't manage +a fire, I could chew meat raw.</p> + +<p>Yes, I remembered that it was against the law to kill grouse, yet. I +thought about it a minute;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> and decided that the law did not intend that +a starving person should not kill just enough for meat when he had +nothing else. I was willing to tell the first ranger or game warden, and +pay a fine—but I must eat. And I hoped that what I was trying to do was +all right. Motives count, in law, don't they?</p> + +<p>Down I went, as fast as I could go. The sun was just sinking out of +sight. It was the lonesome time of day for a fellow without fire or food +or shelter, in the places where nobody lived, and I wouldn't have +objected much if I'd been home at the supper table.</p> + +<p>I reached the bottom of the hill. It ended at the edge of some aspens. +Their white trunks were ghostly in the twilight. Across through the +aspens I hurried, straight as I could go; and I came out into a grassy, +boggy place—a basin where water from the hills around was seeping! +Hurrah! It was a regular spring, and the water ran trickling away, down +through a gulch.</p> + +<p>Grasses grew high: wild timothy and wild oats and gama grass, mingled +with flowers. Along the trickle were willows, too. With the aspens and +the willows and the seed grasses and the water this was a fine place for +grouse. I looked for sign, on the edge of the wetness, and I saw where +birds had been scratching and taking dust baths, in a patch of sage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> + +<p>Stepping slowly, and keeping sharp lookout, I reconnoitered about the +place; I was so excited that I didn't stop to drink. And +suddenly—whirr-rr-rr! With a tremendous noise up flew two grouse, and +three more, and lit in the willows right before me. I guess I was +nervous, I wanted them so bad; for I jumped back and stumbled and fell, +and broke the arrow square in two with my knee.</p> + +<p>That made me sick. Here was my supper waiting for me, and I had spoiled +my chances. I wanted to cry.</p> + +<p>Those acted like fool grouse. They sat with their heads and necks +stretched, watching me and everything else. I picked up the two pieces +of my arrow; and then I looked about for a straight reed or willow twig +that might do. Something rustled right before me, and there was another +grouse! It had been sitting near enough to bite me and I hadn't seen it.</p> + +<p>By the feathers I knew it was a fool grouse. Was it going to fly, or +not? I stood perfectly still, and then I squatted gradually and gave it +time. After it had waggled its head around, it moved a little and began +to peck and cackle; and I could hear other cackles answering. If I only +could creep near enough to hit it with a stick.</p> + +<p>I reached a dead willow stick, and squatting as I was I hitched forward, +inch by inch. Whenever the grouse raised its silly head I scarcely +breathed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> The grass was clumpy, and once behind a clump I wriggled +forward faster. With the clump between me and the grouse I approached as +close as I dared. The grouse was only four or five feet away. It must be +now or never, for when once the grouse began to fly for their night's +roost mine would go, too.</p> + +<p>Fool grouse you can knock off of limbs with a stone, or with a club when +they are low enough and when they happen to be feeling in the mood to be +knocked. Behind my clump I braced my toes, and out I sprang and swiped +hard, but the grouse fluttered up, just the same, squawking. I hit +again, hard and quick, and struck it down, and I pounced on it and had +it! Yes, sir, I had it! All around me grouse were flying and whirring +off, and those in the tree joined them; but I didn't care now.</p> + +<p>I lay on my stomach and took a long drink of water, and back I hustled +for camp.</p> + +<p>Down here the dark had gathered; but up on the hill the light stayed, +and of course the top of the hill, where my camp was, would be light +longest. Now if I only could manage a fire. I had an idea—a good Scout +idea.</p> + +<p>First I picked out a place for the night. In one spot the faces of two +rocks met at an angle. The grass here was dead and softish, and the wind +blowing off the snowy range on the west didn't get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> in. I gathered a +bunch of the grass, and tore my handkerchief with my teeth and mixed +some ravelings of that in and tied a nest, with a handle to it. Then I +got some of the dry twigs lying about, and had them ready. Then I found +a piece of flinty rock—I think it was quartzite; and I took off a shoe +and struck the rock on the hob nails, over the nest of grass.</p> + +<p>It worked! The sparks flew and landed in the loose knot, and I blew to +start them. After I had been trying, I saw a little smoke, and smelled +it; and so I grabbed the nest by its handle and swung it. It caught +fire, and in a jiffy I had it on the ground, with twigs across it—and I +was fixed. A fire makes a big difference. I wasn't lonesome any more. +This camp was home. (<i>Note 40.</i>)</p> + +<p>I was so hungry that I didn't more than half cook the grouse by holding +pieces on a stick over the blaze, trapper style. While I gnawed I went +out around the rocks and watched the sunset. It was glorious, and the +pink and gold lasted, with the snowy range and old Pilot Peak showing +sharp and cold against it. Up here I was right in the twilight, while +below the timber and the valleys were dark.</p> + +<p>I must collect wood while I could see, beginning with the pieces +furthest away. Down at the bottom of the hill I had marked a big branch; +and out I hiked and hauled it up. That camp looked grand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> when I came in +again; the bottom of the hill was gloomy, but here I had a fire.</p> + +<p>The sunset was done; everything was dark; the stars were shining all +through the sky; from the timber below queer cries and calls floated up +to me, but there was nothing to be afraid of. I was minding my business, +and animals would be minding theirs. So I moved the fire forward a +little from the angle of the rocks, and sat in the angle myself. Wow, +but it was warm and nice! I couldn't make a big fire, because I didn't +want to run out of fuel; but the little fire was better, as long as it +was large enough to be cheerful and to warm me. I spliced my broken +arrow with string.</p> + +<p>This was real Scout coziness. Of course, I sort of wished that Fitz or +little Jed Smith or somebody else was there, for company; but I'd done +pretty well. I tried to study the stars—but as I sat I kept nodding and +dozing off, and waking with a jerk, and so I pulled the thick part of +the branch across the fire and shoved in the scattered ends. Then I +wrapped the flags about my neck and over my head, and sitting flat with +my back against the rock I went to sleep. Indians say that they keep +warm best by covering their shoulders and head, even if they can't cover +their legs.</p> + +<p>Something woke me with a start. I lay shivering and listening. The fire +flickered low, the sky was close above me, darkness was around about,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +and behind me was a rustle, rustle, patter, patter. At first I was silly +and frightened; but with a jump I quit that and ordered, loud:</p> + +<p>"Get out of there!"</p> + +<p>Wild animals are especially afraid of the human voice; and whatever this +was it scampered away. Then I decided that it was only a pack-rat. +Anyhow, there would be nothing out here in these hills to attack a human +being while he slept. Even the smell of a human being will keep most +animals off. They're suspicious of him. And I thought of the hundreds of +old-time trappers and hunters, and of the prospectors and ranchers and +range-riders, who had slept right out in the timber, in a blanket, and +who never had been molested at all. So I didn't reckon that anything was +going to climb this hill to get <i>me</i>!</p> + +<p>I stirred about and built the fire, and got warm. The Guardians of the +Pole had moved around a quarter of the clock, at least, and the moon was +away over in the west, so I knew that I must have slept quite a while. +(<i>Note 41.</i>)</p> + +<p>The night was very quiet. Here on the hill I felt like a Robinson Crusoe +marooned on his island. I stood and peered about; everywhere below was +the dark timber; the moon was about to set behind the snowy range; +overhead were the stars—thousands of them in a black sky, which curved +down on all sides.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p>The Milky Way was plain. The Indians say that is the trail the dead +warriors take to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I could see the North Star, +of course, and I could see the Papoose on the Squaw's back, in the +handle of the Great Dipper; so I had Scout's eyesight. In the west was +the evening star—Jupiter, I guessed. Off south was the Scorpion, and +the big red star Antares. I wished that the Lost Children were dancing +in the sky, but they had not come yet. (<i>Note 42.</i>)</p> + +<p>It made me calm, to get out this way and look at the stars. I'd been +lucky, so far, to have fire and supper and a good camp, and I decided +that I would get that message—or help get it. Somewhere down in that +world of timber were Major Henry and Kit Carson and little Jed Smith, on +the trail; and General Ashley and wise Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +planning to escape; and the man who had the message. And here was I, on +detail that seemed to have happened, and yet seemed to have been +ordered, too. And watchful and steady as the stars, above us was the +Great Commander, who knew just how things would come out, here in the +hills the same as in the cities. It's kind of comforting, when a fellow +realizes that he can't get lost entirely, and that Somebody knows where +he is and what he is doing, and what he wants to do.</p> + +<p>In the morning I would strike off southwest, and keep going until I came +to a trail where the beaver<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> man had traveled, or until I had some sight +of him or news of him.</p> + +<p>By the Pointers it was midnight. So after thinking things over I fed the +fire and warmed my back; then I hunched into the angle and with the two +flags about my shoulders and over my head I started to snooze off. Some +animal kept rustling and pattering, but I let it rustle and patter.</p> + +<p>Just as I was snoozing, I remembered that to-morrow—that <i>to-day</i> was +Sunday! Yes; I counted, and we had left town on Monday and we had been +out six days. I supposed that I ought to rest on Sunday; but I didn't +see how I could, fixed as I was; and I hoped that if I took the trail I +would be understood. (<i>Note 43.</i>)</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2><h3>THE RED FOX PATROL</h3> +</div> + +<p>When I woke up I was safe and sound, but I had thrown off the flags and +I was stiff and cold. Now I could see all about me—see the rocks and +the grass and the ashes of the fire; so morning had come. That was good.</p> + +<p>After I had yawned and stretched and straightened out, I gave a little +dance to start my circulation. Then I built the fire from the coals that +were left, and cooked the rest of the grouse, and had breakfast, chewing +well so as to get all the nourishment that I could. I climbed on a rock, +in the sun, like a ground-hog, to eat, and to look about at the same +time. And I saw smoke!</p> + +<p>The smoke was lifting above the timber away off, below. This was a fine +morning; a Sunday morning, peaceful and calm, and the smoke rose in a +little curl, as if it were from a camp or a chimney. I took that as a +good omen. Down I sprang, to my own fire; and heaped on damp stuff and +dirt, and using my coat made the private smoke signal of the Elk Patrol: +one puff, three puffs, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> one puff. (<i>Note 44.</i>) But the other smoke +didn't answer.</p> + +<p>Then I thought of making the signal meaning "I am lost. Help"; but I +said to myself: "No, you don't. You're not calling for help, yet. You'd +be a weak kind of a Scout, to sit down and call for help. There's a sign +for you. Maybe that smoke is the beaver man. Sic him." And trampling out +my own fire, and stuffing the flags into my shirt and tying my jacket +around me, lining that other fire by a dead pine at the foot of the +hill, away I went.</p> + +<p>When I got to the dead pine I drew another bee-line ahead as far as I +could see, with a stump as the end, and followed that. But this was an +awful rough, thick country. First I got into a mess of fallen timber, +where the dead trunks were criss-crossed like jackstraws; and they were +smooth and hard and slippery, and I had to climb over and crawl under +and straddle and slide, and turn back several times, and I lost my +bee-line. But I set my direction again by the sun on my face. Next I ran +into a stretch of those small black-jacks, so thick I could scarcely +squeeze between. And when I came out I was hot and tired, I tell you!</p> + +<p>Now I was hungry, too, and thirsty; and I found that fire meant a whole +lot to me. If it didn't mean the man with the message, it meant food and +somebody to talk to, perhaps. The fallen timber and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> the black-jack +thicket had interfered with me so that I wasn't sure, any more, that I +was heading straight for the fire. Down into a deep gulch I must plunge, +and up I toiled, on the other side. It was about time that I climbed a +tree, or did something else, to locate that fire. When next I reached a +ridgy spot I chose a good pine and shinned it. From the top nothing was +visible except the same old sea of timber with island rocks spotting it +here and there, and with Pilot Peak and the snowy range in the wrong +quarter again.</p> + +<p>Of course, by this time the breakfast smoke would have quit. That made +me desperate. I shinned down so fast that a branch broke and I partly +fell the rest of the way along the trunk, and tore my shirt and scraped +a big patch of skin from my chest. This hurt. When I landed in a heap I +wanted to bawl. But instead, I struck off along the ridge, keeping high +so that if there was smoke I would see it, yet.</p> + +<p>The ridge ended in another gulch. I had begun to hate gulches. A +fellow's legs grow numb when he hasn't had much to eat. But into the +gulch I must go, and so down I plunged again. And when almost at the +bottom I <i>smelled</i> smoke! I stopped short, and sniffed. It was wood +smoke—camp smoke. I must be near that camp-fire. And away off I could +hear water running. That was toward my left, so probably the smoke was +on my left, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> a camp would be near water. It is hard to get direction +just by smell, but I turned and scouted along the side of the gulch, +halfway up, sniffing and looking.</p> + +<p>The brush was bad. It was as thick as hay and full of stickers, but I +worked my way through. If the camp was the camp of the beaver man with +the message, I must reconnoiter and scheme; if it was the camp of +somebody else, I would go down; and if I didn't know whose camp it was, +I must wait and find out.</p> + +<p>The brush held me and tripped me and tore my trousers and shirt, and was +wet and hot at the same time. Keeping high, I worked along listening and +sniffing and spying—<i>feeling</i> for that camp, if it was a camp. Pretty +soon I heard voices. That was encouraging—unless the beaver man had +company. The brush thinned, and the gulch opened, and I was at the mouth +of it, with the water sounding louder. On my stomach I looked out and +down—and there was the place of the camp, at the mouth of the gulch, +where the pines and spruces met a creek, and two boys were just leaving +it. They had packs on their backs, and they were dressed in khaki and +were neat and trim.</p> + +<p>Down I went, sliding and leaping, head first or feet first, I didn't +care which, as long as I got there in time. The boys heard and turned +and stared,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> wondering. With my hands and face scratched, and my chest +skinned and my shirt and trousers torn, bearing my bow and my broken +arrow, like a wild boy I burst out upon them. Then suddenly I saw on the +sleeves of their khaki shirts the Scout badge. My throat was too dry and +my breath was too short for me to say a word, but I stopped and made the +Scout sign. They answered it; and they must have thought that I was +worse than I really was, because they came running.</p> + +<p>"The Elk Patrol, Colorado," I wheezed.</p> + +<p>"The Red Fox Patrol, New Jersey," they replied. "What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to meet you," I said, silly after the run I had made on an +empty stomach; and we laughed and shook hands hard.</p> + +<p>They were bound to hold me up or examine me for wounds or help me in +some way, but I sat down of my own accord, to get my breath.</p> + +<p>They were First-class Scouts of the Red Fox Patrol of New Jersey, and +were traveling through this way on foot, from Denver, to meet the rest +of their party further on at the railroad, to do Salt Lake and then the +Yellowstone. They had had a late breakfast and a good clean-up, because +this was Sunday; and now they were starting on, for a walk while it was +cool, before they lay by again and waited till Monday morning. I had +reached them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> just in time; I think I'd have had tough work trailing +them. They looked as if they could travel some.</p> + +<p>Their clothes were the regulation Scouts uniform. One of them had a +splendid little twenty-two rifle, and the other had a camera. The name +of the boy with the rifle was Edward Van Sant; the name of the Scout +with the camera was Horace Ward. They seemed fine fellows—as Scouts +usually are.</p> + +<p>I don't know how they knew that I was hungry or faint, for I didn't say +that I was. But the first thing I did know Van Sant had unstrapped his +pack, and Ward had taken a little pan and had brought water from the +creek. Then a little alcohol stove appeared, and while we talked the +water was boiling, in a jiffy. Ward dropped into the water a cube, and +stirred—and there was a mess of soup, all ready!</p> + +<p>They made me drink it, although I kept telling them I was all right. It +tasted mighty good. They got out some first-aid dope, and washed my +skinned chest with a carbolic smelling wash and shook some surgical +powder over it, and put a bandage around, in great shape. Then they +washed my scratches and even sewed the worst of the tears in my clothes. +(<i>Note 45.</i>)</p> + +<p>By this time they knew my story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was he a dark-complexioned man, with a small face and no whiskers or +mustache?"</p> + +<p>"He was dark, but he had a mustache and fresh whiskers," I answered.</p> + +<p>"On a bay horse?"</p> + +<p>"On a bay, with a blazed forehead. Why?"</p> + +<p>"A man rode by here, last evening, along the trail across the creek. He +was dark-complexioned, he wore a black hat, and he rode a bay with a +mark on its shoulders like this—" and Ward drew in the dirt a K+.</p> + +<p>"That's a K Cross," I exclaimed. And I thought it was right smart of +them to notice even the brand. "He's the man, sure. He's shaved off his +mustache and whiskers, but he's riding the same horse." And I jumped up. +I felt strong and ready again. "Which way did he go?"</p> + +<p>Scout Van Sant pointed up the creek. "There's a trail on the other +side," he said. "You'll find fresh hoof marks in it."</p> + +<p>"Bueno," I said; and I extended my hand to shake with them, for I must +light right out. "I'm much obliged for everything, but I've got to catch +him. If you meet any of my crowd please tell 'em you saw me and I'm +O. K.; and if you're ever in Elk country don't fail to look us up. The +lodge door is always open."</p> + +<p>"Hold on," laughed Scout Ward. "You can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> shoo us this way, unless +you'd rather travel alone. What's the matter with our going, too?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Scout Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"But your trail lies down creek, you said."</p> + +<p>"Not now. As long as you're in trouble your trail is our trail."</p> + +<p>Wasn't that fine! But—</p> + +<p>"You'll miss your connections with the rest of your party," I objected.</p> + +<p>"What if we do? We're on the Scout trail, now, for business,—and +pleasure can wait. You couldn't handle that man alone—could you?"</p> + +<p>Well, I was going to try. But they wouldn't listen. And they wouldn't +let me carry anything. They slung their packs on their backs, we crossed +the creek on some stones, and taking the trail on the other side we +followed fast and steady, the horse's hoof-prints pointing up the creek. +One shoe had a bent nail-head.</p> + +<p>The Red Fox Scouts stepped along without asking any odds, although I was +traveling light. They walked like Indians. Scout Van Sant took the lead, +Scout Ward came next, and I closed the rear. Pretty soon Scout Van Sant +dropped back, behind me, and let Ward have the lead. I surmised he did +this to watch how I was getting on; but I had that soup in me, and my +second wind, and I didn't ask any odds, either.</p> + +<p>The hoof-prints were plain, and the trail was first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> rate; sometimes in +the timber and sometimes in little open patches, but always close to the +foaming creek.</p> + +<p>After we had traveled for about two hours, or had gone seven miles, we +stopped and rested fifteen minutes and had a dish of soup. The creek +branched, and one part entered a narrow, high valley, lined with much +timber. The other part, which was the main part, continued more in the +open.</p> + +<p>The hoofs with the bent nail-head quit, here; and as they didn't turn +off to the left, into the open country, they must have crossed to take +the gulch branch. An old bridge had been washed out, but the water was +shallow, and Scout Van Sant was over in about three jumps. After a +minute of searching he beckoned, and we skipped over, too. A small trail +followed the branch up the gulch, and the hoof-prints showed in it.</p> + +<p>Now we all smelled smoke again. It seemed to me that I had been smelling +it ever since that first time, but you know how a smell sometimes sticks +in the nose. Still, we all were smelling it, now, and we kept our eyes +and ears open for other sign of a camp.</p> + +<p>The water made a big noise as it dashed down; the gulch turned and +twisted, and was timbered and rocky; it grew narrower; and as we +advanced with Scout caution, looking ahead each time as far as we could, +on rounding an angle suddenly we came out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> into a sunny little park, +with flowers and grass and aspens and bowlders, the stream dancing +through at one edge, and an old dug-out beside the stream.</p> + +<p>It was an abandoned prospect claim, because on the hill-slope were some +old prospect holes and a dump. By the looks, nobody had been working +these holes for a year or two; but from the chimney of the dug-out a +thin smoke was floating. We instantly sat down, motionless, to +reconnoiter.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2><h3>THE MAN AT THE DUG-OUT</h3> +</div> + +<p>We couldn't see any sign, except those hoof-marks, and that fire. Nobody +was stirring, the sun shone and the chipmunks scampered and the aspens +quivered and the stream tinkled, and the place seemed all uninhabited by +anything except nature. We grew tired of waiting.</p> + +<p>"I'll go on to that dug-out," whispered Scout Ward. "If the man sees me +he won't know me, especially. I can find out if he's there, or who is +there."</p> + +<p>That sounded good; so he dumped his pack and while Scout Van Sant and I +stayed back he walked out, up the trail. We saw him turn in at the +dug-out and rap on the door. Nobody came. He hung about and eyed the +trail and the ground, and rapped again.</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of sign," he called to us; "and there's a loose horse +over across the creek."</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?" growled a voice; and he looked, and we looked, and +we saw a man sitting beside a bowlder on the little slope behind the +dug-out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> + +<p>The man must have been watching, half hid, without moving. It was the +beaver man. He had an automatic pistol in his hand. This was my +business, now. So, just saying, "There he is!" I stood up and went right +forward. But Scout Van Sant followed.</p> + +<p>"I want that message," I said, as soon as I could.</p> + +<p>"What message?" he growled back, from over his gun.</p> + +<p>"That Scouts' message you took from the fellow who took it from us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, hello!" he grinned. "Were you there? They let you go, did they?"</p> + +<p>"No; I got away to follow you. I want that message."</p> + +<p>"Why, sure," he said. "If that's all you want." And he seemed relieved. +"Come and get it." He stuck his free hand behind him and fumbled, and +then he held up the package.</p> + +<p>I started right up, but Scout Ward sprang ahead of me. "I'll get it. You +and Van stay behind," he bade.</p> + +<p>He didn't wait for us to say yes, but walked for the rock; and just as +he reached it, and was stretching to take the package, the man, with a +big oath, jumped for him.</p> + +<p>Jumped for him, and grabbed for him, sprawling out like a black cougar. +Van Sant and I yelled, sharp; Ward dodged and tripped and went rolling;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +and as the man jumped for him again I shot my arrow at him. I couldn't +help it, I was so mad. The arrow was crooked, where it had been mended +(I really didn't try to hurt him), and maybe it <i>went</i> crooked; but +anyway it hit him in the calf of the leg and stayed there. I didn't +think I had shot so hard.</p> + +<p>The man uttered a quick word, and sat down. His face was screwed and he +glared about at us, with his pistol muzzle wavering and sweeping like a +snake's tongue. That arrow probably hurt. It hadn't gone in very far, +but it was stuck.</p> + +<p>"I'll kill one of you for that," he snarled.</p> + +<p>"No, you won't," answered Scout Ward, scrambling up and facing him. "If +you killed one you'd have to kill all three, and then you'd be hanged +anyway."</p> + +<p>"You got just what was coming to you for acting so mean," added Scout +Van Sant. "You grabbed for Ward and we had to protect him."</p> + +<p>They weren't afraid, a particle, either of them; but I was the one who +had shot the arrow, and all I could say was: "It isn't barbed. You can +pull it out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I'll get blood poisonin', mebbe," snarled the man. He kept us +covered with his revolver muzzle. "You git!" he ordered.</p> + +<p>With his other hand he worked at the arrow and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> pulled it out easily. +The point was red, but not very far up.</p> + +<p>"You'd better cut your trousers open, over that wound," called Scout Van +Sant. "Did you have on colored underdrawers?"</p> + +<p>"None o' your business," snarled the man. "You git, all of you."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute. Don't use that old handkerchief," spoke Scout Ward. And +away he ran for the packs. They were very busy Scouts, those two, and +right up to snuff. The arrow wound seemed to interest them. He came +back, and I saw what he had. "Here," he called; "if you'll promise not +to grab me I'll come and dress that in first-class shape. You're liable +to have an infection, from dirt."</p> + +<p>"I'll infect <i>you</i>, if I ketch you," snarled the man, fingering his +wounded leg and dividing his glances between it and us.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you won't promise, I'll lay this on this rock," continued +Scout Ward, as cool as you please. "You ought to cut the cloth away from +that wound; then you dissolve this bichloride of mercury tablet in a +quart of water, and flush that hole out thoroughly; then you moisten a +pad of this cloth in the water and bind it on the hole with this +surgical bandage. See?" (<i>Note 46.</i>)</p> + +<p>"I'll bind you on a hole, if I ketch you," snarled the man. That hole +ached, I reckon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span></p> + +<p>But Scout Ward advanced and laid the first-aid stuff on a stone about +ten feet from the man, so that he could crawl and get it.</p> + +<p>"Now hadn't you better give us that message? It's no good to you, and +it's done you harm enough," said Scout Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"Give you nothin', except a dose of lead, if you don't git out pronto," +snarled the man. "You git! Hear me? GIT! If you weren't kids, you'd git +something else beside jes' git. But I'm not goin' to tell you many more +times. GIT!"</p> + +<p>The Red Fox Patrol Scouts looked at me and I looked at them, and we +agreed—for the man was growing angrier and angrier. There was no sense +in badgering him. A fellow must use discretion, you know.</p> + +<p>"All right; we'll 'git,'" answered Scout Ward. "But we'll keep on your +trail till you turn over that message. You've no business with it."</p> + +<p>The man just growled, and as we turned away he began to pull his +trouser-leg up further and to fuss with his dirty sock and his pink +underdrawers there. Those were no things to have about an open wound.</p> + +<p>"You'd better use that first-aid wash and bandage," called back Scout +Ward.</p> + +<p>We went to the packs and the Red Fox Patrol Scouts slung them on. They +wouldn't let me carry one. We didn't know exactly what to do, now:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +whether to go on and wait, or wait here, while we watched. Only—</p> + +<p>"You Scouts take the trail for your rendezvous," I said. Rendezvous, you +know, is the place where Scouts come together; and these two boys were +on their way to meet the rest of their party, for Salt Lake and the +Yellowstone, when I had come in on them.</p> + +<p>"No," they said; "your trail is our trail. Scouts help each other. We +can meet our party somewhere later, and still be in time."</p> + +<p>Scouts mean what they say, so I didn't argue, and I was mighty glad to +have them along. We decided to follow the trail we were on for a little +way, and then to climb the side of the gulch and make Sunday camp where +we could watch the man's movements.</p> + +<p>We passed the dug-out; up back of it the beaver man was tying his +bandanna handkerchief around his leg! He didn't look at us, and he +hadn't touched the first-aid stuff on the rock.</p> + +<p>As we hiked on, I kept noticing that smell of smoke—a piny smoke; and +it did not come from the dug-out, surely. Now I remembered that I had +been smelling that piny smoke all day, and I laid it to the two +camp-fires, but I must have been mistaken. Or else there was another +fire, still—or I had the smell in my nose and couldn't get it out. When +you are in the habit of smelling for something,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> you keep thinking that +it is there, all the time. A Scout must watch his imagination, and not +be fooled by it.</p> + +<p>We climbed the side of the gulch, through the trees; the Red Fox boys +carried their packs right along, without resting any more than I did. +They were toughened to the long trail. The sun began to be clouded and +hazy. When we halted halfway up, and looked back and down, at the +dug-out, the man had hobbled across from the dug-out and was leading +back his horse.</p> + +<p>Just then Scout Ward spoke up. "It is smoke!" he exclaimed, puffing and +sniffing. "Boys, it's a forest fire somewhere."</p> + +<p>So they had been smelling it, too.</p> + +<p>I looked at the sun. The haze clouding it was the smoke!</p> + +<p>"Climb on top, so we can see," I said; and away we went.</p> + +<p>The timber was thick with spruces and pines. Up we went, among them, for +the top of the ridge. We came out into an open space; beyond, the ridge +fell away in a long slope of the timber, for the snowy range; and old +Pilot Peak was right before us, to the west. The sun was getting low, +and was veiled by smoke drifting across it. And on the right, distant a +couple of miles, up welled a great brownish-black mass from the fire +itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<p>A forest fire, and a big one! The smell was very strong.</p> + +<p>The Red Fox Scouts looked at me. "What ought we to do?" asked Scout Van +Sant. "Maybe you know more about these forest fires than we do."</p> + +<p>Maybe I did. The Rockies are places for big forest fires, all right, and +I'd heard the Guards and Rangers talk, in our town. The timber was dry +as a bone, at this time of year. The smoke certainly was drifting our +way. And fire travels up-hill faster than it travels down-hill. So this +ridge, surrounded by the timber, was a bad spot to be caught in, +especially if that fire should split and come along both sides. No +timber ridge for us!</p> + +<p>"Turn back and make for the creek; shall we?" proposed Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>That didn't sound good to me, somehow. The creek was beginning to pinch +out, this high up the gulch, and a fire would jump it in a twinkling. +And if anything should happen to us, down there,—one of us hurt +himself, you know, in hurrying,—we should be in a trap as the fire +swept across. Out of the timber was the place for us.</p> + +<p>But away across, an opposite slope rose to bareness, where were just +grass and rocks; and between was a long patch of aspens or willows, down +in the hollow. If we couldn't make the bareness, those aspens or willows +would be better than the pines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> and evergreens. They wouldn't burn so; +and if they were willows, they might be growing in a bog.</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "Let's strike across," and I explained.</p> + +<p>"But the man. Wait a minute. Maybe he doesn't know," said Scout Van +Sant; and away he raced, down and back for the dug-out.</p> + +<p>We followed, for of course we wouldn't let him go alone. As we ran we +all shouted, and at the dug-out we shouted, looking; but all that we saw +was the beaver man far off across the creek, riding through the timber. +He did not glance back; he kept on, riding slowly, headed for the fire. +That seemed bad. He was so angry that perhaps his judgment wasn't +working right, and he didn't pay much attention to the smell of smoke. +So all we could do was to race up the ridge again, get the packs, and +plunge down over for sanctuary.</p> + +<p>The wind was blowing toward the fire, as if sucked in. But I knew that +this would not hold the fire, because there would be another breeze, +low, carrying it along. With a big fire there always is a wind, sucked +in from all sides, as the hot air rises.</p> + +<p>Those Red Fox Scouts hiked well, loaded with their packs. I set the +pace, in a bee-line for the willows and aspens, and I was traveling +light, but they hung close behind. The altitude made them puff; they +fairly wheezed as we zigzagged down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> among the trees; but we must get +out of this brush into the open.</p> + +<p>"Will we make it?" puffed Ward.</p> + +<p>"Sure," I said. But I was mighty anxious. It seemed to me that the +distance lengthened and lengthened and that I could feel the air getting +warm in puffs. This was imagination.</p> + +<p>"Look!" cried Van Sant. "What's that?" He stopped and panted and +pointed.</p> + +<p>"Bunch of deer!" cried Ward.</p> + +<p>It was. Not a bunch, exactly, but two does and three fawns, scampering +through the timber below, fleeing from the fire. They were bounding over +brush and over logs, their tails lifted showing the white—and next they +were out of sight in a hollow. They made a pretty sight, but—</p> + +<p>"Frightened by the fire, aren't they?" asked Scout Van Sant, quietly, as +we jogged on.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I had to say.</p> + +<p>This looked serious. The fire might not be coming, and again it might. +Animals are wise.</p> + +<p>The smoke certainly was worse. The air certainly was warmer. The breeze +was changing, or else we were down into another breeze. Next I saw a +black, shaggy creature lumbering past, before, and I pointed without +stopping. They nodded.</p> + +<p>"Bear?" panted Ward.</p> + +<p>I nodded. The bear was getting out of the way, too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will we make it?" again asked Ward.</p> + +<p>"Sure," I answered. We <i>had</i> to.</p> + +<p>On we plowed. We were almost at the bottom of the slope and we ought to +be reaching those willows and aspens. The brush was not so bad, now; but +the brush does not figure much in a forest fire when the flames leap +from tree-top to tree-top and make a crown fire. That is the worst of +all. This was hot enough to be a crown fire, if a breeze helped it.</p> + +<p>We saw lots of animals—rabbits and squirrels and porcupines and more +deer, and the birds were calling and fluttering. The smoke rasped our +throats; the air was thick with it and with the smell of burning pine. +And how we sweat.</p> + +<p>Then, hurrah! We were into the aspens. I tell you, their white trunks +and their green leaves looked good to me; but ahead of us was that other +slope to climb, before we were into the bareness.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go on?" asked Scout Van Sant.</p> + +<p>He coughed; we all coughed, as we wheezed. That had been a hard hike. +The air was hot, we could <i>feel</i> the fire as the wind came in strong +puffs; everywhere animals were running and flying, and the aspens were +full of wild things, panicky. We had to decide quickly, for the fire was +much closer.</p> + +<p>"Are you good for another pull?" I asked.</p> + +<p>They grinned, out of streaming faces and white lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll make it if you can."</p> + +<p>But I didn't believe that we could. Up I went into an aspen, to +reconnoiter.</p> + +<p>"Be looking for wetness, or willows," I called down. They dropped their +packs and scurried.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2><h3>FOILING THE FIRE</h3> +</div> + +<p>I don't know what a record I made in climbing that tree—an aspen's bark +is slick—but in a jiffy I was at the top and could peer out. (<i>Note +47.</i>) All the sky was smoke, veiling the upper end of the valley and of +the ridge. The ridge must be afire; the fire was spreading along our +side; and if we tried for the opposite slope and the bare spot we might +be caught halfway! Something whisked through the trees under me. It was +a coyote. And as I slid down like lightning, thinking hard as to what we +must do and do at once, I heard a calling and Van Sant and Ward came +rushing back.</p> + +<p>"We've found a place!" they cried huskily. "A boggy place, with willows. +Let's get in it."</p> + +<p>We grabbed the packs. I carried one, at last. Scout Ward led straight +for the place. Willows began to appear, clustering thick. That was a +good sign. The ground grew wet and soft, and slushed about our feet. I +tell you, it felt fine!</p> + +<p>"Will it do?" gasped Scout Ward, back.</p> + +<p>"Great!" I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's occupied, but I guess we can squeeze in," added Van Sant.</p> + +<p>And sure enough. Animals had got here first; all kinds—coyotes, +rabbits, squirrels, skunks, porcupines, a big gray wolf, and a brown +bear, and one or two things whose names I didn't know. But we didn't +care. We forced right in, to the very middle; nothing paid much +attention to us, except to step aside and give us room. Of course the +coyotes snarled and so did the wolf; but the bear simply lay panting, he +was so fat. And we lay panting, too.</p> + +<p>We weren't any too soon. The air was gusty hot and gusty coolish, and +the smoke came driving down. We dug holes, so that the water would +collect, and so that we could dash it over each other if necessary. I +could reach with my hand and pet a rabbit, but I didn't. Nothing +bothered anything else. Even the coyotes and the wolf let the rabbits +alone. This was a sanctuary. There was a tremendous crashing, and a big +doe elk bolted into the midst of us. She was thin and quivery, and her +tongue was hanging out and her eyes staring. But she didn't stay; with +another great bound she was off, outrunning the fire. She probably knew +where she was going.</p> + +<p>We others lay around, flat, waiting.</p> + +<p>"Wish we were on her back," gasped Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"We're all right," I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> + +<p>"Think so?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," I answered.</p> + +<p>They were game, those Red Fox Scouts. They never whimpered. We had done +the best we could, and after you've done the best you can there is +nothing left except to take what comes. And take it without kicking. As +for me, I was full of thought. I never had been in a forest fire, +before, but it seemed to me our chances were good. Only, I wondered +about General Ashley and Fitzpatrick, in the hands of that careless +gang; and about Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson, and about the +beaver man with the wounded leg. He'd have the hardest time of all.</p> + +<p>Now the smoke was so heavy and sharp that we coughed and choked. The air +was scorching. We could hear a great crackling and snapping and the +breeze withered the leaves about us. We burrowed. The animals around us +cringed and burrowed. The fire was upon us—and a forest fire in the +evergreen country is terrible.</p> + +<p>There was a constant dull roar; our willows swayed and writhed; the +rabbit crept right against me and lay shivering, and the coyotes +whimpered. I flattened myself, and so did the Red Fox Scouts; and with +my face in the ooze I tried to find cool air.</p> + +<p>The roaring was steady; and the crackling and snapping was worse than +any Fourth of July.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> Sparks came whisking down through the willows and +sizzled in the wetness. One lit on a coyote and I smelled burning hair; +and then one lit on me and I had to turn over and wallow on my back to +put it out. "Ouch!" exclaimed Van Sant; and one must have lit on him, +too.</p> + +<p>But that was not bad. If we could stand the heat, and not swallow it and +burn our lungs, we needn't mind the sparks; and maybe in ten or fifteen +minutes the worst would be over, when the branches and the brush had +burned.</p> + +<p>Of course the first few moments were the ticklish ones. We didn't know +what might happen. But we never said a word. Like the animals we just +waited, and hoped for the best. When I found that we weren't being +burned, and that the roaring and the crackling weren't harming us, I +lifted my head. I sat up; and the Red Fox Scouts sat up, cautiously. We +were still all right. The air was smoky, but the <i>fire</i> hadn't got at +us—and now it probably wouldn't. But this was not at all like Sunday!</p> + +<p>The Red Fox Scouts were pale, under their mud; and so was I, I suppose. +I felt pale, and I felt weak and shaky—and I felt thankful. That had +been a mighty narrow escape for us. If we had not found the willows and +the wet, we would have died, it seemed to me.</p> + +<p>"How about it?" asked Scout Ward, huskily,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> and his voice trembled, but +I didn't blame him for that. "It's gone past, hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I. And—</p> + +<p>"We're still here," said Scout Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ward, soberly—and smiling, too, with cracked lips, "I know +how I feel, and I guess you fellows feel the same way. God was good to +us, and I want to thank Him."</p> + +<p>And we kept silent a moment, and did.</p> + +<p>The roaring had about quit and the crackling was not nearly so bad. The +air was not fiery hot, any more; it was merely warm. The attack had +passed, and we were safe. The rabbit beside me hopped a few feet and +squatted again, and the fat bear sat up and blinked about him with his +piggish eyes. It seemed to me that the animals were growing uneasy and +that perhaps the truce was over with. In that case, unpleasant things +were likely to happen, so we had better move out.</p> + +<p>"Shall we try it?" asked Van Sant.</p> + +<p>We picked up the packs and sticking close together moved on—dodging +another gray wolf and a coyote, and an animal that looked like a +carcajou or wolverine, which snarled at us and wouldn't budge.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was a little doubtful whether we could travel through +burned timber so soon after the fire had swept it. The ground would be +thick with coals and hot ashes, and trees would still be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> blazing. But +when we came out at the opposite edge of the willows and could see +through the aspens, the timber beyond did not look bad, after all. There +were a few burned places, but the fire had skirted the aspens on this +side only in spots, where cinders had lodged.</p> + +<p>So if we had kept going instead of having stopped in the willows we +might have reached the place beyond all right; but it would have been +taking an awful risk, and we decided that we had done the correct thing.</p> + +<p>Smoke still hung heavy and the smell of burning pine was strong, as we +threaded our way among the hot spots, making for the ridge beyond. That +bare place would be a good lookout, and we rather hankered for it, +anyway. We had crossed the valley, and as we climbed the slope we could +look back. The fire had covered both sides of the first ridge, and the +top, and if we had stayed there we would have been goners, sure, the way +matters turned out. It was a dismal sight, and ought to make anybody +feel sorry. Thousands of acres of fine timber had been killed—just +wasted.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose started it?" asked Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>A camp-fire, probably. Lots of people, camping in the timber, either +don't know anything or else are out-and-out careless, like that gang +from town, or those two recruits who had not made good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> And I more than +half believed that the fire might have started from their camps.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden we found that we were hungry. I had been hungry before +the fire, because I hadn't had much to eat for twenty-four hours; but +during the fire I had forgotten about it; and now we all were hungry. +However, after that fire we were nervous, in the timber, and we knew +that if we camped there we wouldn't sleep. So we pushed on through, to +camp on top, in the bare region, where we would be out of danger and +could see around. The Red Fox canteens would give us water enough.</p> + +<p>We came out on the bare spot. Away off to the right, along the side of +the ridge, figures were moving. They were human figures, not more wild +animals: two men and a pack burro. They were moving toward us, so we +obliqued toward them, with our shadows cast long by the low sun. The +grass was short and the footing was hard gravel, so that we could hurry; +and soon I was certain that I knew who those three figures were. One was +riding.</p> + +<p>The side of the ridge was cut by a deep gulch, like a canyon, with rocky +walls and stream rolling through along the bottom. We halted on our +edge, and the three figures came on and halted on their edge. They were +General Ashley and Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and Apache the black burro. +The general was riding Apache. I was glad to see them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're the two Elk Scouts who were captured," I said, to the Red Fox +Scouts; and I waved and grinned, and they waved back, and we all +exchanged the Scout sign.</p> + +<p>But that gorge lay between, and the water made such a noise that we +couldn't exchange a word.</p> + +<p>"Can they read Army and Navy wigwags?" asked Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>"Sure," I said. "Can you?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty good," he answered. "Shall I make a talk, or will you?"</p> + +<p>But I wasn't very well practiced in wigwags, yet; I was only a +Second-class Scout.</p> + +<p>"You," I said. "Do you want a flag?"</p> + +<p>But he said he'd use his hat. (<i>Note 48.</i>)</p> + +<p>He made the "attention" signal; and Fitzpatrick answered. Then he went +ahead, while Scout Van Sant spelled it out for me:</p> + +<p>"R–e–d F–o–x."</p> + +<p>And Fitz answered, like lightning:</p> + +<p>"E–l–k."</p> + +<p>"What shall I say?" asked Scout Ward of me, over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Say we're all right, and ask them how they are."</p> + +<p>He did. Scout Van Sant spelled the answer:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span></p> + +<p>"O. K. B–u–t c–a–n–t c–r–o–s–s. C–a–m–p t–i–l–l +m–o–r–n–i–n–g. A–s–h h–u–r–t."</p> + +<p>When we learned that General Ashley was hurt, and knew that he and +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand were going to camp on the other side for the +night, the two Red Fox Scouts, packs and all, and I got through that +gulch somehow and up and out, where they were. It would have been a +shame to let a one-armed boy tend to the camp and to a wounded +companion, and do everything, if we could possibly help. Of course, Fitz +would have managed. He was that kind. He didn't ask for help.</p> + +<p>They were waiting; Fitz had unpacked the burro and was making camp. +General Ashley was sitting with his back against a rock. He looked pale +and worn. He had sprained his ankle, back there when we had all tried to +escape, yesterday, and it was swollen horribly because he had had to +step on it some and hadn't been able to give it the proper treatment. +(<i>Note 49.</i>) Fitz looked worn, too, and of course we three others +(especially I) showed travel, ourselves.</p> + +<p>After I had introduced the Red Fox Scouts to him and Fitz, then before +anything else was told I must report. So I did. But I hated to say it. I +saluted, and blurted it out:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> + +<p>"I followed the beaver man and sighted him, sir, but he got away again, +with the message."</p> + +<p>The general did not frown, or show that he was disappointed or vexed. He +tried to smile, and he said: "Did he? That surely was hard luck then, +Jim. Where did he go?"</p> + +<p>"We were with Bridger, and it seems to us that he did the best he could. +The fire interrupted," put in Red Fox Scout Van Sant, hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>He spoke as if he knew that he had not been asked for an opinion, but as +a friend and as a First-class Scout he felt as though he ought to say +something.</p> + +<p>"The best is all that any Scout can do," agreed the general. "Go ahead, +Jim, and tell what happened."</p> + +<p>So I did. The general nodded. I hadn't made any excuses; I tried to tell +just the plain facts, and ended with our escape in the willows, from +that fire.</p> + +<p>"The report is approved," he said. "We'll get that beaver man yet. We +must have that message. Now Fitz can tell what happened to us. But we'd +better be sending up smoke signals to call in the other squad, in case +they're where they can see. Make the council signal, Bridger."</p> + +<p>Fitz had a fire almost ready; the Red Fox Scouts helped me, and gathered +smudge stuff while I proceeded to send up the council signal in the Elks +code. Fitz talked while he worked. The general<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> looked on and winced as +his ankle throbbed. But he was busy, too, fighting pain.</p> + +<p>Fitz told what had happened to them, after I had escaped. He and the +general had been taken back by the gang, and tied again, and camp was +broken in a hurry because the gang feared that now I would lead a +rescue. They were mean enough to make the general limp along, without +bandaging his foot, until he was so lame that he must be put on a horse. +The camp-fire was left burning and the bacon was forgotten. They climbed +a plateau and dropped into a flat, and following up very fast had curved +into the timber to cross another ridge into Lost Park and on for the +Divide by way of Glacier Lake. That is what the general and Fitz +guessed. That night they all camped on the other side of the timber +ridge, at the edge of Lost Park. They were in a hurry, still, and they +made their fire in the midst of trees where they had no business to make +it. They slept late, as they always did, and not having policed the camp +or put out their fire, scarcely had they plunged into Lost Park, the +next morning, when one of them looking back saw the trees afire where +they had been.</p> + +<p>Lost Park is a mean place; the brush makes a regular jungle of it, and +fire would go through it as through a hayfield. That fact and their +guilty conscience made them panicky. It's a pretty serious thing, to +start a forest fire. So they didn't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> what to do; some wanted to go +one way, and some another; the fire grew bigger and bigger, and the +cattle and game trails wound and twisted and divided so that the gang +were separated, in the brush, and it was every man for himself. The +general was riding Mike Delavan's horse, and Mike ordered him down and +climbed on himself and made off; and the first thing the general and +Fitz knew they were abandoned. That is what they would have maneuvered +for, from the beginning, and it would have been easy, as Scouts, to work +it, among those blind trails, but the general couldn't walk. Perhaps it +was by a mistake that they were abandoned; everybody may have thought +that somebody else was tending to them, and Mike didn't know what he was +doing, he was so excited. But there they were.</p> + +<p>The general tried to hobble, and Fitz was bound that he would carry +him—good old Fitz, with the one arm! The bushes were high, the smoke +where the fire was mounted more and more and spread as if the park was +doomed, and the crashing and shouting and swearing of the gang faded and +died away in the distance. Then the general and Fitz heard something +coming, and down the trail they were on trotted Apache the burro! He +must have turned back or have entered by a cross trail. Whew, but they +were glad to see Apache! Fitz grabbed him by the neck rope. He had a +flat pack tied on with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> our rope, did Apache, and Fitz hoisted the +general aboard, and away they hiked, with the general hanging on and his +foot dangling.</p> + +<p>Now that they could travel and head as they pleased, they worked right +back, out of the park, and by a big circuit so as not to run into the +gang they circled the fire and tried to strike the back trail somewhere +so as to meet Major Henry and Carson and Smith, who might be on it. But +they came out upon this plateau, and sighted us, and then we all met at +the edge of the gulch.</p> + +<p>That was the report of Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He and the general +certainly had been through a great deal.</p> + +<p>During the story the Red Fox Scouts and I had been making the smoke +signal over and over again. "Come to council," I sent up, while they +helped to keep the smudge thick. "Come to council," "Come to council," +for Major Henry and Kit and Jed, wherever they might be. But we were so +interested in Fitz's story, how he and the general got away from the +gang and from the fire, that sometimes we omitted to scan the horizon. +The general didn't, though. He is a fine Scout.</p> + +<p>"There's the answer!" he said suddenly. "They've seen! The fire didn't +get them. Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>And "Hurrah!" we cheered.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2><h3>ORDERS FROM THE PRESIDENT</h3> +<h4>(<span class="smcap">The Adventures of the Major Henry Party</span>)</h4> +</div> + +<p>I am Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry, second in command of the Elk +Patrol Scouts which set out to take that message over the range. So now +I will make a report upon what happened to our detail after General +Ashley and Fitzpatrick and Bridger left, upon the trail of the two boys +who had stolen our flags and burros.</p> + +<p>We waited as directed all day and all night, and as they did not come +back or make any signal, in the morning we prepared to follow them. +First we sent up another smoke for half an hour, and watched for an +answer; but nothing happened. Then we cached the camp stuff by rolling +in the bedding, with the tarpaulins on the outside, what we couldn't +carry, and stowing it under a red spruce. The branches came down clear +to the ground, in a circle around, and when we had crawled in and had +covered the bundle with other boughs and needles, it couldn't be seen +unless you looked mighty close.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span></p> + +<p>We erased our tracks to the tree, and made two blazes, on other trees, +so that our cache was in the middle of a line from blaze to blaze. Then +we took sights, and wrote them down on paper, so that none of us would +forget how to find the place. (<i>Note 50.</i>)</p> + +<p>We each had a blanket, rolled and slung in army style, with a string run +through and tied at the ends. I carried the twenty-two rifle, and we +stuffed away in our clothes what rations we could. In my blanket I +carried the other of our lariat ropes. We might need it.</p> + +<p>So the time was about ten o'clock before we started. The trail was more +than twenty-four hours old, but our Scouts had made it plain on purpose, +and we followed right along. Of course, I am sixteen and Kit Carson is +thirteen and little Jed Smith is only twelve, so I set my pace to +theirs. A blanket roll weighs heavy after you have carried it a few +miles.</p> + +<p>But we stopped only twice before we reached a sign marked in the ground: +"Look out!" The trail faltered, and an arrow showed which way to go, and +we came to the spot where the Scouts had peeped over into the draw and +had seen the enemy. Here another arrow pointed back, and we understood +exactly what had happened.</p> + +<p>We took the new direction. The three Scouts had left as plain a trail as +they could by breaking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> branches and disturbing pebbles, and treading in +single file. Jed Smith was awful tired, by this time, for the sun was +hot and we hadn't halted to eat. But picking the trail we made the +circuit around the upper end of the draw and climbed the opposite ridge. +The trail was harder to read, here, among the grass and rocks.</p> + +<p>By the sun it was the middle of the afternoon, now, and we must have +been on the trail five hours. We waited, and listened, and looked and +smelled, feeling for danger. We must not run into any ambuscade. A +little gulch, with timber, lay just ahead, and a haze of smoke floated +over it.</p> + +<p>This spelled danger. It was not Scouts' smoke, because Scouts would not +be having a fire, at this time of day, smoking so as to betray their +position. When we made a smoke, we made it for a purpose. The place must +be reconnoitered.</p> + +<p>We spread. I took the right, Kit Carson the left, and Jed Smith was put +in the middle because he was the littlest. It would have been good if we +could have left our blanket rolls, but we did not dare to. Of course, if +we were chased, we might have to drop them and let them be captured.</p> + +<p>We crossed a cow-path, leading into the gulch. It held burro tracks, +pointing down; and it seemed to me that if there was any ambuscade down +there it would be along this trail. Naturally, the enemy would expect us +to follow the trail. Maybe the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> other Scouts had followed it and had +been surrounded. So we crossed the trail, and I signed to Carson and to +Smith to move out across the gulch and around by the other side.</p> + +<p>We did. Cedars and spruces were scattered about, and gooseberry bushes +and other brush were screen enough; we swung down along the opposite +side, and the smoke grew stronger. But still we could not hear a sound. +We closed in, peering and listening—and then suddenly I wasn't afraid, +or at least, I didn't care. Through the stems of the trees was an open +park, at the foot of the gulch, and if there was a camp nobody was at +home, for the park was afire!</p> + +<p>"Come on!" I shouted. "Fire!" and down I rushed. So did Carson and Jed +Smith.</p> + +<p>We were just in time. The flames had spread from an old camp-fire and +had eaten along across the grass and pine needles and were among the +brush, getting a good start. Already a dry stump was blazing; and in +fifteen minutes more a tree somewhere would have caught. And then—whew!</p> + +<p>But we sailed into it, stamping and kicking and driving it back from the +brush.</p> + +<p>"Wet your blanket, Jed," I ordered, "while we fight."</p> + +<p>A creek was near, luckily; Jed wet his blanket, and we each in turn wet +our blankets; and swiping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> with the rolls we smashed the line of fire +right and left, and had it out in just a few minutes.</p> + +<p>Now a big blackened space was left, like a blot; and the burning and our +trampling about had destroyed most of the sign. But we must learn what +had happened. We got busy again.</p> + +<p>We picked up the cow-path, back in the gulch, and found that the burros +had followed it this far. We found where the burros had been grazing and +standing, in the brush, near the burned area, and we found where horses +had been standing, too! We found fish-bones, and coffee-grounds dumped +from the little bag they had been boiled in, and a path had been worn to +the creek. We found in the timber and brush near by other sign, but we +missed the second warning sign. However, where the fire had not reached, +on the edge of the park, we found several pieces of rope, cut, lying +together, and in a soft spot of the turf here we found the hob-nail +prints of the Elk Patrol! By ashes we found where the main camp-fire had +been, and we found where a second smaller camp-fire had been, at the +edge of the park, and prints of shoes worn through in the left sole—the +shoes of the beaver man! We found a tin plate and fork, by the big +camp-fire, and wrapped in a piece of canvas in a spruce was a hunk of +bacon. By circling we found an out-going trail of horses and burros. We +found the out-going trail of the beaver man—or of a single horse, +anyway,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> but no shoe prints with it. But looking hard we found Scout +sole prints in the horse and burro trail.</p> + +<p>By this time it was growing dusk, and Jed Smith was sick because he had +drunk too much water out of the creek, when he was tired and hot and +hungry. So we decided to stay here for the night. From the signs we +figured out what might have happened:</p> + +<p>According to the tracks, the burro thieves had joined with this camp. +Our fellows had sighted the burro thieves, back where the "Look out" +sign had been made, and had circuited the draw so as to keep out of +sight themselves, and had taken the trail again on the ridge. They had +followed along that cow-path, and had been ambushed. The cut ropes +showed that they had been tied. This camp had been here for two or three +days, because of the path worn to the creek and because of the coffee +grounds and the fish bones and the other sign. It was a dirty camp, too, +and with its unsanitary arrangements and cigarette butts and tobacco +juice was such a camp as would be made by that town gang. The sign of +the cut ropes looked like the town gang, too. The camp must have broken +up in a hurry, and moved out quick, by the things that were forgotten. +Campers don't forget bacon, very often. The cut ropes would show haste, +and we might have thought that the Scout prisoners had escaped, if we +hadn't found their sole prints with the out-going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> trail. These prints +had been stepped on by burros, showing that the burros followed behind. +What the beaver man was doing here we could not tell.</p> + +<p>So we guessed pretty near, I think.</p> + +<p>Little Jed Smith had a splitting headache, from heat and work and +water-drinking. His tongue looked all right, so I decided it was just +tiredness and stomach. One of the blankets was dry; we wrapped him up +and let him lie quiet, with a wet handkerchief on his eyes, and I gave +him a dose of aconite, for fever. (<i>Note 51.</i>)</p> + +<p>At this time, we know now, General Ashley and Thomas Fitzpatrick were +being hustled along one trail, captives to the gang; the beaver man was +on a second trail, with our message; and Jim Bridger was on his lone +scout in another direction, and just about to make a camp-fire with his +hob-nails and a flint.</p> + +<p>The dusk was deepening, and Kit Carson and I went ahead settling camp +for the night. We built a fire, and spread the blankets, and were making +tea in a tin can when we heard hoof thuds on the cow-path. A man rode in +on us. He was a young man, with a short red mustache and a peaked hat, +and a greenish-shade Norfolk jacket with a badge on the left breast. A +Forest Ranger! Under his leg was a rifle in scabbard.</p> + +<p>"Howdy?" he said, stopping and eying us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span></p> + +<p>Kit Carson and I saluted him, military way, because he represented the +Government, and answered: "Howdy, sir?"</p> + +<p>He was cross, as he gazed about.</p> + +<p>"What are you lads trying to do? Set the timber afire?" he scolded. He +saw the burned place, you know.</p> + +<p>"We didn't do that," I answered. "It was afire when we came in and we +put it out."</p> + +<p>He grunted.</p> + +<p>"How did it start?"</p> + +<p>"A camp-fire, we think."</p> + +<p>He fairly snorted. He was pretty well disgusted and angered, we could +see.</p> + +<p>"Of course. There are more blamed fools and down-right criminals loose +in these hills this summer than ever before. I've done nothing except +chase fires for a month, now. Who are you fellows?"</p> + +<p>"We're a detail of the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of +America."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose you've been taught about the danger from camp-fires, +then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Bueno," he grunted. "Wish there were plenty more like you. Every person +who leaves a live camp-fire behind him, anywhere, ought to be made to +stay in a city all the rest of his life." (<i>Note 52.</i>)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span></p> + +<p>He straightened in his saddle and lifted the lines to ride on. But his +horse looked mighty tired and so did he; and as a Scout it was up to me +to say: "Stop off and have supper. We're traveling light, but we can set +out bread and tea."</p> + +<p>"Sure," added Kit Carson and Jed Smith.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," he replied. "I've got a few miles yet to ride, before I +quit. And to-morrow's Sunday, when I don't ride much if I can help it. +So long."</p> + +<p>"So long," we called; and he passed on at a trot.</p> + +<p>We had supper of bread and bacon and tea. The bread sopped in bacon +grease was fine. Jed felt better and drank some tea, himself, and ate a +little. It was partly a hunger headache. We pulled dead grass and cut +off spruce and pine tips, and spread a blanket on it all. The two other +blankets we used for covering. Our coats rolled up were pillows. We +didn't undress, except to take off our shoes. Then stretched out +together, on the one-blanket bed and under the two blankets, we slept +first-rate. Jed had the warm middle place, because he was the littlest.</p> + +<p>As I was commander of the detail I woke up first in the morning, and +turned out. After a rub-off at the creek I took the twenty-two and went +hunting for breakfast. I saw a rabbit; but just as I drew a bead on him +I suddenly remembered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> that this was <i>Sunday morning</i>—and I quit. +Sunday ought to be different from other days. So I left him hopping and +happy, and I went back to camp. Jed and Kit had the fire going and the +water boiling; and we breakfasted on tea and bread and bacon.</p> + +<p>Then we policed the camp, put out the fire, every spark, and took the +burro and horse trail, to the rescue again. We must pretend that this +was only a little Sunday walk, for exercise.</p> + +<p>After a while the trail crossed the creek at a shallow place, and by a +cow-path climbed the side of a hill. Before exposing ourselves on top of +the hill we crawled and stuck just our heads up, Indian scouts fashion, +to reconnoiter. The top was clear of enemy. Sitting a minute, to look, +we could see old Pilot Peak and the snowy range where we Scouts ought to +be crossing, bearing the message. We believed that now the gang with +prisoners were traveling to cross the range, too. They had the message, +of course, and that was bad, unless we could head them off. So we sort +of hitched our belts another notch and traveled as fast as we could.</p> + +<p>The hill we were on spread into a plateau of low cedars and scrubby +pines; the snowy range, with Pilot Peak sticking up, was before. After +we had been hiking for two or three hours, off diagonally to the left we +saw a forest fire. This was thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> timber country, and the fire made a +tremendous smoke. It was likely to be a big fire, and we wondered if the +ranger was fighting it. As for us, we were on the trail and must hurry.</p> + +<p>We watched the fire, but we were not afraid of it, yet. The plateau was +too bare for it, if it came our way. The smoke grew worse—a black, +rolling smoke; and we could almost see the great sheets of flame +leaping. We were glad we weren't in it, and that we didn't know of +anybody else who was in it. But whoever had set it had done a dreadful +thing.</p> + +<p>The trail of the burros and of the horses, mixed, continued on, and left +the plateau and dipped down into a wide flat, getting nearer to the +timber on the slope opposite. Then out from our left, or on the fire +side, a man came riding hard. He shouted and waved at us, so we stopped.</p> + +<p>He was the Ranger. I tell you, but he looked tired and angry. His eyes +were red-rimmed and his face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and holes +were burned in his clothes and his horse's hide.</p> + +<p>"I want you boys," he panted, as soon as he drew up. "We've got to stop +that fire. See it?"</p> + +<p>Of course we'd seen it. But—it wasn't any of our business, was it?</p> + +<p>"I want you to hurry over there to a fire line and keep the fire from +crossing. Quick! Savvy?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't believe we can, sir," I said. "We're on the trail."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?"</p> + +<p>"We're after a gang who have three of our men and we want to stop them +before they cross the range."</p> + +<p>"You follow me."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," I said; "but we're trailing. We're obeying orders."</p> + +<p>"Whose orders?"</p> + +<p>"Our Patrol leader's."</p> + +<p>"Who's he?"</p> + +<p>"General Ashley—I mean, Roger Franklin. He's another boy. But he's been +captured and two of our partners. We're to follow and rescue them. We've +got to go."</p> + +<p>"No, you haven't," answered the Ranger. "Not until after this fire is +under control. You'll be paid for your time."</p> + +<p>"We don't care anything about the pay," said Kit Carson. "We've got to +go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm giving you higher orders from a higher officer, then," +retorted the Ranger. "I'm giving you orders from the President of the +United States. This is Government work, and I'm representing the +Government. I reckon you Boy Scouts want to support the Government, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>Sure we did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span></p> + +<p>"If that fire goes it will burn millions of dollars' worth of timber, +and may destroy ranches and people, too. It's your duty now to help the +Government and to put it out. Your duty to Uncle Sam is bigger than any +duty to private Scouts' affairs. And it is the law that anybody seeing a +forest fire near him shall report it or aid in extinguishing it. Now, +are you coming, or will you sneak off with an excuse?"</p> + +<p>"Why—coming!" we all cried at once. We hated to leave the trail—to +leave the general and Fitz and Jim Bridger and the message to their +fate; but the Government was calling, here, and the first duty of good +Scouts is to be good citizens.</p> + +<p>"Pass up your blanket rolls," ordered the Ranger. "You smallest kid +climb behind me. Each of you two others catch hold of a stirrup. Then we +can make time across."</p> + +<p>In a second away we all went at a trot, heading for the timber and the +fire.</p> + +<p>"I rode right through that fire to get you," said the Ranger. "I saw +you. I've got two or three guards working up over the ridge. Your job is +to watch a fire line that runs along this side of the base of that point +yonder. One end of the fire line is a boggy place with willows and +aspens; and if we can keep the fire from jumping those willows and +starting across, down the valley, and those fellows on the other side of +the ridge can head it off,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> in their direction, then we'll stop it by +back-firing at the edge of Brazito canyon."</p> + +<p>He talked as rapidly as we moved—and that was good fast Scouts' trot, +for us. The hold on the stirrups and latigos helped a lot. It lifted us +over the ground. We all crossed the flat diagonally and struck into a +draw or valley full of timber and with a creek in it, at right angles to +the flat. Up this we scooted, hard as we could pelt.</p> + +<p>"Tired? Want to rest a second?" he asked.</p> + +<p>We grunted "No," for we had our second wind and little Jed Smith was +hanging on tight, behind the saddle. Besides, the fire was right ahead, +toward the left, belching up its great rolls of black-and-white smoke. +And at the same time (although we didn't know it) the gang who had +started it were fleeing in one direction, from it, and the general and +Fitzpatrick were loose and fleeing in another direction, and Jim Bridger +was smelling it and with the Red Fox Patrol was drawing near to it and +not knowing, and the beaver man was tying up his leg and about to run +right into it.</p> + +<p>But we were to help stop it.</p> + +<p>"Here!" spoke the Ranger. "Here's the fire line, this cleared space like +a trail. It runs to those willows a quarter of a mile below. When the +fire comes along this ridge you watch this line and beat out and stamp +out every flame. See? You can do it. It won't travel fast, down-hill; +but if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> ever it crosses the line and reaches the bottom of the valley +where the brush is thick, there's no knowing where it will stop. It will +burn willows and everything else. One of you drop off here; I'll take +the others further. Then I must make tracks for the front."</p> + +<p>We left Kit Carson here. Jed Smith climbed down and was left next, in +the middle, and I was hustled to the upper end.</p> + +<p>"So long," said the Ranger. "Don't let it get past you. It won't. Work +hard, and if you're really in danger run for the creek. But Boy Scouts +of America don't run till they have to. You can save lives and a heap of +timber, by licking the fire at this point. I'll see you later." And off +he spurred, through the timber, across the front of the fire.</p> + +<p>He wasn't afraid—and so we weren't, either.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2><h3>THE CAPTURE OF THE BEAVER MAN</h3> +</div> + +<p>The fire line looked like some old wood-road, where trees had been cut +out and brush cleared away. It extended through the timber, striking the +thin places and the rocky bare places, and the highest places, and wound +on, half a mile, over a point. This point, with a long slope from the +ridge to the valley there, was open and fire-proof. The lower end of the +line was that willow bog, which lay in a basin right in a split of the +timber. Away across from our ridge was another gravelly ridge, and +beyond that was the snowy range. (<i>Note 53.</i>)</p> + +<p>The smoke was growing thick and strong, so that we could smell it plain. +The fire was coming right along, making for us. There were the three of +us to cover a half-mile or more of fire line, so we got busy. We divided +the line into three patrols, and set to work tramping down the brush on +the fire side of it and making ready.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon wild animals began to pass, routed out by the fire. That was +fun, to watch deer and coyotes and rabbits and other things scoot by, +among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> the trees, as if they were moving pictures. Once I saw a wolf, +and little Jed Smith called that he had seen a bear. Kit Carson reported +that some of the animals seemed to be heading into the willow bog beyond +his end of the line.</p> + +<p>It was kind of nervous work, getting ready and waiting for the fire. It +was worse than actual fighting, and we'd rather meet the fire halfway +than wait for it to come to us. But we were here to wait.</p> + +<p>The fire did not arrive all at once, with a jump. Not where I was. A +thin blue smoke, lazy and harmless, drifted through among the trees, and +a crackling sounded louder and louder. Then there were breaths of hot +air, as if a dragon was foraging about. Birds flew over, calling and +excited, and squirrels raced along, and porcupines and skunks, and even +worms and ants crawled and ran, trying to escape the dragon. A wind +blew, and the timber moaned as if hurt and frightened. I felt sorry for +the pines and spruces and cedars. They could not run away, and they were +doomed to be burnt alive.</p> + +<p>The birds all had gone, worms and ants and bugs were still hurrying, and +the timber was quiet except for the crackling. Now I glimpsed the dragon +himself. He was digging around, up the slope a little way, extending his +claws further and further like a cat as he explored new ground and +gathered in every morsel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span></p> + +<p>This is the way the fire came—not roaring and leaping, but sneaking +along the ground and among the bushes, with little advance squads like +dragon's claws or like the scouts of an army, reconnoitering. The +crackling increased, the hot gusts blew oftener, I could see back into +the dragon's great mouth where bushes and trees were flaming and +disappearing—and suddenly he gave a roar and leaped for our fire line, +and ate a bush near it.</p> + +<p>Then I leaped for him and struck a paw down with my stick. So we began +to fight.</p> + +<p>It wasn't a crown fire, where the flames travel through the tops of the +timber; it traveled along the ground, and climbed the low trees and then +reached for the big ones. But when it came near the fire line, it +stopped and felt about sort of blindly, and that was our chance to jump +on it and stamp it out and beat it out and kill it.</p> + +<p>The smoke was awful, and so was the heat, but the wind helped me and +carried most of it past. And now the old dragon was right in front of +me, raging and snapping. The fore part of him must be approaching Jed +Smith, further along the line. I whistled the Scout whistle, loud, and +gave the Scout halloo—and from Jed echoed back the signal to show that +all was well.</p> + +<p>This was hot work, for Sunday or any day. The smoke choked and blinded, +and the air fairly scorched. Pine makes a bad blaze. What I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> to do +was to run back and forth along the fire line, crushing the dragon's +claws. My shoes felt burned through and my face felt blistered, and +jiminy, how I sweat! But that dragon never got across my part of the +fire line.</p> + +<p>The space inside my part was burnt out and smoldering, and I could join +with Jed. There were two of us to lick the fire, here; but the dragon +was raging worse and the two of us were needed. He kept us busy. I +suppose that there was more brush. And when we would follow him down, +and help Kit, he was worse than ever. How he roared!</p> + +<p>He was determined to get across and go around that willow bog. Once he +did get across, and we chased him and fought him back with feet and +hands and even rolled on him. A bad wind had sprung up, and we didn't +know but that we were to have a crown fire. The heat would have baked +bread; the cinders were flying and we must watch those, to catch them +when they landed. We had to be everywhere at once—in the smoke and the +cinders and the flames, and if I hadn't been a Scout, stationed with +orders, I for one would have been willing to sit and rest, just for a +minute, and let the blamed fire go. But I didn't, and Kit and Jed +didn't; all of a sudden the dragon quit, and with roar and crackle went +plunging on, along the ridge inside the willow bog. We had held the fire +line—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> we didn't know that Jim Bridger and the Red Fox Scouts were +in those willows which we had saved because we had been ordered to!</p> + +<p>Then, when just a few little blazes remained to be trampled and beaten +out, but while the timber further in was still aflame, Jed cried: +"Look!" and we saw a man coming, staggering and coughing, down through a +rocky little canyon which cut the black, smoking slope.</p> + +<p>He fell, and we rushed to get him.</p> + +<p>Blazing branches were falling, all about; the air was two hundred in the +shade; and in that little canyon the rocks seemed red-hot. But the fire +hadn't got into the canyon, much, because it was narrow and bare; and +the man must have been following it and have made it save his life. He +was in bad shape, though. Before we reached him he had stood up and +tumbled several times, trying to feel his way along.</p> + +<p>"Wait! We're coming," I called. He heard, and tried to see.</p> + +<p>"All right," he answered hoarsely. "Come ahead."</p> + +<p>We reached him. Kit Carson and I held him up by putting his arms over +our shoulders, and with Jed walking behind we helped him through the +canyon and out to the fire line. He groaned and grunted. His eyebrows +were crisped and his hair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> was singed and his shoes were cinders and his +hands and face were scarred, and his eyes were all bloodshot, and he had +holes through his clothes.</p> + +<p>"Fire out?" he asked. "I can't see."</p> + +<p>"It isn't out, but it's past," said Jed.</p> + +<p>"Well, it mighty near got <i>me</i>," he groaned. "It corralled me on that +ridge. If I hadn't cached myself in that little canyon, I'd have been +burned to a crisp. It burned my hoss, I reckon. He jerked loose from me +and left me to go it alone with my wounded leg. Water! Ain't there a +creek ahead? Gimme some water."</p> + +<p>While he was mumbling we set him down, beyond the fire line. It didn't +seem as though we could get him any further. Kit hustled for water, Jed +skipped to get first-aid stuff from a blanket-roll, and I made an +examination.</p> + +<p>His face and hands were blistered—maybe his eyes were scorched—there +was a bloody place wrapped about with a dirty red handkerchief, on the +calf of his left leg. But I couldn't do much until I had scissors or a +sharp knife, and water.</p> + +<p>"Who are you kids?" he asked. "Fishin'?" He was lying with his eyes +closed.</p> + +<p>"No. We're some Boy Scouts."</p> + +<p>He didn't seem to like this. "Great Scott!" he complained. "Ain't there +nobody but Boy Scouts in these mountains?"</p> + +<p>Just then Kit came back with a hat of water from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> a boggy place. It was +muddy water, but it looked wet and good, and the man gulped it down, +except what I used to soak our handkerchiefs in. Kit went for more. Jed +arrived with first-aid stuff, and I set to work, Jed helping.</p> + +<p>We let the man wipe his own face, while we cut open his shirt where it +had stuck to the flesh.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he said suddenly. "Quit that. What's the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>But he was too late. When I got inside his undershirt, there on a +buckskin cord was hanging something that we had seen before. At least, +it either was the message of the Elk Patrol or else a package exactly +like it.</p> + +<p>"Is that yours?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Maybe yes, and maybe no. Why?" he growled.</p> + +<p>"Because if it isn't, we'd like to know where you got it."</p> + +<p>"And if you don't tell, we'll go on and let you be," snapped little Jed.</p> + +<p>"Shut up," I ordered—which wasn't the right way, but I said it before I +thought. Jed had made me angry. "No, we won't." And we wouldn't. Our +duty was to fix him the best we could. "But that looks like something +belonging to us Scouts, and it has our private mark on it. We'd like to +have you explain where you got it."</p> + +<p>"He's <i>got</i> to explain, too," said little Jed, excited.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have I?" grinned the man, hurting his face. "Why so?"</p> + +<p>"There are three of us kids. We can keep sight of you till that Ranger +comes back. He'll make you."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"That Forest Ranger. He's a Government officer."</p> + +<p>Kit Carson arrived, staring, with more water.</p> + +<p>"I know you!" he panted. He signed to us, pointing at the man's feet. +"You were at that other camp!" And Jed and I looked and saw the hole in +the left sole—although both soles were badly burned, now. By that mark +he was the beaver man! He wriggled uneasily as if he had a notion to sit +up.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you want it so bad, and it's yours, take it." And in a jiffy I +had cut it loose with my knife. "It's been a hoodoo to me. How did you +know I was at any other camp? Are you those three kids?"</p> + +<p>"We saw your tracks," I answered. "What three kids?"</p> + +<p>"The three kids those other fellows had corralled."</p> + +<p>"No, but we're their partners. We're looking for them."</p> + +<p>He'd had another drink of water and his face squinted at us, as we +fussed about him. Kit took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> off one of the shoes and I the other, to get +at the blistered feet.</p> + +<p>"Never saw you before, did I?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe not."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you some news. One of your partners got away."</p> + +<p>That was good.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" we all three asked.</p> + +<p>"I met him, back on the trail, with two new kids."</p> + +<p>"Which one was he? What did he look like?"</p> + +<p>"A young lad, dressed like you. Carried a bow and arrow."</p> + +<p>"Brown eyes and big ears?"</p> + +<p>"Brown eyes, I reckon. Didn't notice his ears."</p> + +<p>That must have been Jim Bridger.</p> + +<p>"Who were the two fellows?"</p> + +<p>"More of you Scouts, I reckon. Carried packs on their backs. Dressed in +khaki and leggins, like soldiers."</p> + +<p>They weren't any of us Elks, then. But we were tremendously excited.</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"This noon."</p> + +<p>That sure was news. Hurrah for Jim Bridger!</p> + +<p>"Did you see a one-armed boy?"</p> + +<p>"Saw him in that camp, where the three of 'em were corralled."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span></p> + +<p>"What kind of a crowd had they? Was one wearing a big revolver?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. 'Bout as big as he was. They looked like some tough town bunch."</p> + +<p>"How many?"</p> + +<p>"Eight or ten."</p> + +<p>Oho!</p> + +<p>"Did you hear anybody called Bill?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; also Bat and Mike and Walt and et cetery."</p> + +<p>We'd fired these questions at him as fast as we could get them in +edgewise, and now we knew a heap. The signs had told us true. Those two +recruits had joined with the town gang, and our Scouts had been +captured; but escape had been attempted and Jim Bridger had got away.</p> + +<p>"How did you get that packet?" asked Kit.</p> + +<p>"Found it."</p> + +<p>He spoke short as if he was done talking. It seemed that he had told us +the truth, so far; but if we kept questioning him much more he might get +tired or cross, and lie. We might ask foolish questions, too; and +foolish questions are worse than no questions.</p> + +<p>We had done a good job on this man, as appeared to us. We had bathed his +face, and had exposed the worst burns on his body and arms and legs and +had covered them with carbolized vaseline and gauze held on with +adhesive plaster, and had cleaned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> the wound in his leg. It was a +regular hole, but we didn't ask him how he got it. 'Twas in mighty bad +shape, for it hadn't been attended to right and was dirty and swollen. +Cold clear water dripped into it to flush it and clean it and reduce the +inflammation would have been fine, but we didn't have that kind of water +handy; so we sifted some boric powder into it and over it and bound on +it a pad of dry sterilized gauze, but not too tight. I asked him if +there was a bullet or anything else in it, and he said no. He had run +against a stick. This was about all that we could do to it, and play +safe by not poking into it too much. (<i>Note 54.</i>)</p> + +<p>He seemed to feel pretty good, now, and sat up.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "now I've given you boys your message and told you what +I know, and you've fixed me up, so I'll be movin' on. Where are those +things I used to call shoes?"</p> + +<p>We exchanged glances. He was the beaver man.</p> + +<p>"We aren't through yet," I said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I reckon you are," he answered. "I'm much obliged. Pass me the +shoes, will you?"</p> + +<p>"No; wait," said Kit Carson.</p> + +<p>"What for?" He was beginning to growl.</p> + +<p>"Till you're all fixed."</p> + +<p>"I'm fixed enough."</p> + +<p>"We'll dress some of those wounds over again."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't. Pass me those shoes."</p> + +<p>They were hidden behind a tree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can't you wait a little?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't wait a little." He was growling in earnest. "Will you pass +me those shoes?"</p> + +<p>"No, we won't," announced Kit. He was getting angry, too.</p> + +<p>"You pass me those shoes or something is liable to happen to you mighty +sudden. I'll break you in two."</p> + +<p>"I'll get the rifle," said Jed, and started; but I called him back. We +didn't need a rifle.</p> + +<p>"He can't do anything in bare feet like that," I said. And he couldn't. +His feet were too soft and burned. That is why we kept the shoes, of +course.</p> + +<p>"I can't, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No. We aren't afraid."</p> + +<p>He started to stand, and then he sat back again.</p> + +<p>"I'll put a hole in some of you," he muttered; and felt at the side of +his chest. But if he had carried a gun in a Texas holster there, it was +gone. "Say, you, what's the matter with you?" he queried. "What do you +want to keep me here for?"</p> + +<p>"You'd better wait. We'll stay, too."</p> + +<p>He glared at us. Then he began to wheedle.</p> + +<p>"Say, what'd I ever do to you? Didn't I give you back that message, and +tell you all I knew? Didn't I help you out as much as I could?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," we said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then what have you got it in for me for?"</p> + +<p>"We'd rather you'd wait till the Ranger or somebody comes along," I +explained.</p> + +<p>He fumbled in a pants pocket.</p> + +<p>"Lookee here," he offered. And he held it out. "Here's a twenty-dollar +gold piece. Take it and divvy it among you; and I'll go along and +nobody'll be the wiser."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," we said.</p> + +<p>"I'll make it twenty apiece for each," he insisted. "Here they are. See? +Give me those shoes, and take these yellow bucks and go and have a good +time."</p> + +<p>But we shook our heads, and had to laugh. He couldn't bluff us Scouts, +and he couldn't bribe us, either. He twisted and stood up, and we jumped +away, and Kit was ready to grab up the shoes and carry them across into +the burned timber where the ground was still hot.</p> + +<p>The man swore and threatened frightfully.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to get my fingers on one of you, once," he stormed. "You'd +sing a different tune."</p> + +<p>So we would. But we had the advantage now and we didn't propose to lose +it. He couldn't travel far in bare, blistered feet. I wished that he'd +sit down again. We didn't want to torment him or nag him, just because +we had him. He did sit down.</p> + +<p>"What do you think I am, anyhow?" he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, you've been killing beaver," I told him.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"We saw you at the beaver-pond, when we were camping opposite. And just +after you left the game warden came along, looking for you."</p> + +<p>"You saw some other man."</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't. We know your tracks. And if you aren't the man, then +you'll be let go."</p> + +<p>"You kids make me tired," he grumbled, and tried to laugh it off. +"Supposin' a man does trap a beaver or two. They're made to be trapped. +They have to be trapped or else they dam up streams and overflow good +land. Nobody misses a few beaver, anyhow, in the timber. This is a free +land, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Killing beaver is against the law, just the same," said Jed.</p> + +<p>"You kids didn't make the law, did you? You aren't judge of the law, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "But we know what it is and we don't think it ought to be +broken. If people go ahead breaking the game laws, then there won't be +any game left for the people who keep the laws to see or hunt. And the +less game there is, the more laws there'll be." I knew that by heart. It +was what Scouts are taught.</p> + +<p>This sounded like preaching. But it was true. And while he was fuming +and growling and figuring on what to do, we were mighty glad to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> a +horse's hoofs. The Ranger came galloping down the fire line.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he said. He was streaked with ashes and soot and sweat, and so +was his horse, and they both looked worn to a frazzle. "Well, we've +licked the fire. Who's that? Somebody hurt?" Then he gave another quick +look. "Why, how are you, Jack? You must have run against something +unexpected."</p> + +<p>The beaver man only growled, as if mad and disgusted.</p> + +<p>I saluted.</p> + +<p>"We have held the fire line, sir," I reported.</p> + +<p>"You bet!" answered the Ranger. "You did well. And now you're holding +Jack, are you? You needn't explain. I know all about him. Since that +fire drove him out along with other animals, we'll hang on to him. The +game warden spoke to me about him a long time ago."</p> + +<p>"You fellows think you're mighty smart. Do I get my shoes, or not?" +growled the beaver man.</p> + +<p>"Not," answered the Ranger, cheerfully. "We'll wrap your feet up with a +few handkerchiefs and let you ride this horse." He got down. "What's the +matter? Burns? Bad leg? Say! These kids are some class on first-aid, +aren't they! You're lucky. Did you thank them? Now you can ride nicely +and the game warden will sure be glad to see you." Then he spoke to us. +"I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> going over to my cabin, boys, where there's a telephone. Better +come along and spend the night."</p> + +<p>We hustled for our blanket-rolls. The beaver man gruntingly climbed +aboard the Ranger's horse, and we all set out. The Ranger led the horse, +and carried his rifle.</p> + +<p>"Is the fire out?" asked Kit Carson.</p> + +<p>"Not out, but it's under control. It'll burn itself out, where it's +confined. I've left a squad to guard it and I'll telephone in to +headquarters and report. But if it had got across this fire line and +around those willows, we'd have been fighting it for a week."</p> + +<p>"How did it start?"</p> + +<p>"Somebody's camp-fire."</p> + +<p>The trail we were making led through the timber and on, across a little +creek and up the opposite slope. The sun was just setting as we came out +beyond the timber, and made diagonally up a bare ridge. On top it looked +like one end of that plateau we had crossed when we were trailing the +gang and we had first seen the fire.</p> + +<p>The Ranger had come up here because traveling was better and he could +take a good look around. We halted, puffing, while he looked. Off to the +west was the snowy range, and old Pilot Peak again, with the sun setting +right beside him, in a crack. The range didn't seem far, but it seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +cold and bleak—and over it we were bound. Only, although now we had the +message, we didn't have the other Scouts. If they were burned—oh, +jiminy!</p> + +<p>"Great Cæsar! More smoke!" groaned the Ranger. "If that's another fire +started—!"</p> + +<p>His words made us jump and gaze about. Yes, there was smoke, plenty of +it, over where the forest fire we had fought was still alive. But he was +looking in another direction, down along the top of the plateau.</p> + +<p>"See it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Yes, we saw it. But—! And then our hearts gave a great leap.</p> + +<p>"That's not a forest fire!" we cried. "That's a smoke signal!"</p> + +<p>"A what?"</p> + +<p>"A smoke signal! And—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a second. We'll read it, if we can. Scouts must be over there," I +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"More Scouts!" grunted the beaver man. "These here hills are plumb full +of 'em."</p> + +<p>The air was quiet, and the smoke rose straight up, with the sun tinting +the top. It was a pretty sight, to us. Then we saw two puffs and a +pause, and two puffs and a pause, and two puffs and a pause. It was our +private Elk Patrol code, and it was beautiful. We cheered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's from our partners, and it says 'Come to council,'" I reported. +"They're hunting for us. We'll have to go over there."</p> + +<p>"Think they're in trouble?"</p> + +<p>"They don't say so, but we ought to signal back and go right over."</p> + +<p>"I'll go, too, for luck, and see you through, then," said the Ranger.</p> + +<p>"Do I have to make that extra ride?" complained the beaver man, angry +again.</p> + +<p>"Sure," answered the Ranger. "That's only a mile or so and then it's +only a few more miles to the cabin, and we aren't afraid of the dark."</p> + +<p>They watched us curiously while we hustled and scraped a pile of dead +sage and grass and rubbish, and set it to smoking and made the Elks' "O. +K." signal. The other Scouts must have been sweeping the horizon and +hoping, for back came the "O. K." signal from them.</p> + +<p>And traveling our fastest, with the beaver man grumbling, we all headed +across the plateau for the place of the smoke. Sunday was turning out +good, after all.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 366px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-005" id="illus-005"></a> +<img src="images/illus-178.jpg" alt=""IT WAS OUR PRIVATE ELK PATROL CODE."" title="" width="366" height="568" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"IT WAS OUR PRIVATE ELK PATROL CODE."</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2><h3>GENERAL ASHLEY DROPS OUT</h3> +<h4>(<span class="smcap">Jim Bridger Resumes the Tale</span>)</h4> +</div> + +<p>I tell you, we were glad to have that smoke of ours answered, and to see +Major Henry and Kit Carson and Jed Smith coming, in the twilight, with +the Ranger and the beaver man. We guessed that the three boys must be +our three partners—and when they waved with the Elk Patrol sign we +knew; but of course we didn't know who the two strangers were.</p> + +<p>While they were approaching, Major Henry wigwagged: "All there?" with +his cap; and Fitzpatrick wigwagged back: "Sure!" They arrived opposite +us, and then headed by the man with the rifle, who was leading the +horse, they obliqued up along the gulch as if they knew of a crossing; +so we decided that one of the strangers must be acquainted with the +country. They made a fine sight, against the horizon.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon into the gulch they plunged, and after a few minutes out +they scrambled, man and horse first, on our side, and came back toward +us. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> in a minute more we Elk Scouts were dancing and hugging each +other, and calling each other by our regular ordinary names, "Fat" and +"Sliver" and "Red" and all, and discipline didn't cut much figure. That +was a joyful reunion. The Ranger and his prisoner, the beaver man, +looked on.</p> + +<p>Then when Major Henry hauled out the message packet, and saluting and +grinning passed it to the general, our cup was full. I was as glad as if +I had passed it, myself. "One for all, and all for one," is the way we +Scouts work.</p> + +<p>"If you hadn't trailed him (the beaver man) and headed him and fixed him +so he couldn't travel fast, he'd have got away from the fire and +wouldn't have run into <i>us</i>," claimed Major Henry.</p> + +<p>"And if you fellows hadn't held that fire line you wouldn't have seen +him and we might have been burnt or suffocated in the willows," I +claimed back.</p> + +<p>So what seems a failure or a bother, when you're trying your best, often +is the most important thing of all, or helps make the chain complete.</p> + +<p>But now we didn't take much time to explain to each other or to swap +yarns; for the twilight was gone and the dark was closing in, and we +weren't in the best of shape. The burro Apache was packed with bedding, +mostly, which was a good thing, of course; the Red Fox Scouts had their +outfit; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> we Elks were short on grub. That piece of bacon and just +the little other stuff carried by the Major Henry party were our +provisions. Fitz and the poor general were making a hungry camp, when we +had discovered them. And then there was the general, laid up.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, kid?" queried the Ranger.</p> + +<p>"Sprained ankle, I think."</p> + +<p>"That's sure bad," sympathized the Ranger.</p> + +<p>And it sure was.</p> + +<p>"Boys, I'll have to be traveling for that cabin of mine, to report about +the fire and this man," said the Ranger, after listening to our talk for +a minute. "If you're grub-shy, some of you had better come along and +I'll send back enough to help you out."</p> + +<p>That was mighty nice of him. And the general spoke up, weakly. "How far +is the cabin, please?"</p> + +<p>"About three miles, straight across."</p> + +<p>"If I could make it, could I stay there a little while?"</p> + +<p>"Stay a year, if you want to. We'll pack you over, if you'll go. Can you +ride?"</p> + +<p>"All right," said the general. "I'll do it. Now, you fellows, listen. +Major Henry, I turn the command and the message over to you. I'm no +good; I can't travel and we've spent a lot of time already,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> and I'd be +only a drag. So I'll drop out and go over to that cabin, and you other +Scouts take the message."</p> + +<p>Oh, we didn't want to do that! Leave the general? Never!</p> + +<p>"No, sir, we'll take you along if we have to carry you on our backs," we +said; and we started in, all to talk at once. But he made us quit.</p> + +<p>"Say, do I have to sit here all night while you chew the rag?" grumbled +the beaver man. But we didn't pay attention to <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter about me, whether I go or not, as long as we get that +message through," answered the general, to us. "I can't travel, and I'd +only hold you back and delay things. I'll quit, and the rest of you +hustle and make up for lost time."</p> + +<p>"I'll stay with you. This is Scout custom: two by two," spoke up little +Jed Smith. He was the general's mate.</p> + +<p>"Nobody stays with me. You all go right on under Corporal Henry."</p> + +<p>"It'll be plumb dark before we get to that cabin," grumbled the beaver +man. "This ain't any way to treat a fellow who's been stuck and then +burnt. I'm tired o' sittin' on this hoss with my toes out."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can get off and let this other man ride. I'll hobble you and +he can lead you," said the Ranger.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the burro?" growled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> the beaver man. He wasn't +so anxious to walk, after all.</p> + +<p>Sure! We knew that the Ranger was waiting, so while some of us led up +Apache, others bandaged the general's ankle tighter, to make it ride +easier and not hurt so much if it dangled. Then we lifted the general, +Scout fashion, on our hands, and set him on Apache.</p> + +<p>Now something else happened. Red Fox Scout Ward stepped forward and took +the lead rope.</p> + +<p>"I'm going," he announced quietly. "I'm feeling fine and you other +fellows are tired. Somebody must bring the burro back, and the general +may need a hand."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't," corrected the general.</p> + +<p>"But the burro must come back."</p> + +<p>"It's up to us Elk Scouts to do that," protested Major Henry. "Some of +us will go. You stay. It's dark."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. You Elk men have been traveling on short rations and Van Sant +and I have been fed up. It's either Van or I, and I'll go." And he did. +He was bound to. But it was a long extra tramp.</p> + +<p>We shook hands with the general, and gave him the Scouts' cheer; and a +cheer for the Ranger.</p> + +<p>"Ain't we ever goin' to move on?" grumbled the beaver man.</p> + +<p>"I may stay all night and be back early in the morning," called Ward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>They trailed away, in the dimness—the Ranger ahead leading the beaver +man, Red Fox Scout Ward leading Apache. And we were sorry to see them +go. We should miss the plucky Ashley, our captain.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2><h3>A BURRO IN BED</h3> +</div> + +<p>When I woke in the morning Fitz was already up, building the fire, +according to routine, and Red Fox Scout Van Sant was helping him. So I +rolled out at once, and here came Red Fox Scout Ward with the burro, +across the mesa, for the camp.</p> + +<p>He brought a little flour and a few potatoes and a big hunk of meat, and +a fry-pan. He brought a map of the country, too, that he had sketched +from information from the Ranger. That crack beside Pilot Peak, where +the sun had set, was a pass through, which we could take for Green +Valley. It was a pass used by the Indians and buffalo, once, and an old +Indian trail crossed it still. The general sent word that if we took +that trail, he would get the goods we had left cached.</p> + +<p>"Now," reported Major Henry, when we had filled for a long day's march, +"I'll put it to vote. We can either find that cache ourselves, and take +the trail from there, as first planned, or we can head straight across +the mountain. It's a short cut for the other side of the range, but it +may be rough traveling. The other way, beyond the cache, looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> pretty +rough, too. But we'd have our traps and supplies,—as much as we could +pack on Apache, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"I vote we go straight ahead, over the mountain, this way," said Fitz. +"We'll get through. We've got to. We've been out seven days, and we +aren't over, yet."</p> + +<p>We counted. That was so. Whew! We must hurry. Kit and Jed and I voted +with Fitz.</p> + +<p>"All right. Break camp," ordered Major Henry.</p> + +<p>He didn't have to speak twice.</p> + +<p>"That Ranger says we can strike the railroad, over on the other side, +Van, and make our connections there," said Red Fox Scout Ward to his +partner. "Let's go with the Elks and see them through that far."</p> + +<p>That was great. They had come off their trail a long way already, +helping me, it seemed to us—but if they wanted to keep us company +further, hurrah! Only, we wouldn't sponge off of them, just because they +had the better outfit, now.</p> + +<p>We policed the camp, and put out the fire, through force of habit, and +with the burro packed with the squaw hitch (<i>Note 55</i>), and the Red +Foxes packed, forth we started, as the sun was rising, to follow the Ute +trail, over Pilot Peak. The Red Fox Scouts carried their own stuff; they +wouldn't let us put any of it on Apache, for they were independent, too.</p> + +<p>Travel wasn't hard. After we crossed the gorge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> the top of the mesa or +plateau was flat and gravelly, with some sage and grass, and we made +good time. We missed the general, and we were sorry to leave that cache, +but we had cut loose and were taking the message on once more. Thus we +began our second week out.</p> + +<p>The forest fire was about done. Just a little smoke drifted up, in the +distance behind and below. But from our march we could see where the +fire had passed through the timber, yonder across; and that blackened +swath was a melancholy sight. We didn't stop for nooning, and when we +made an early camp the crack had opened out, and was a pass, sure +enough.</p> + +<p>Red Fox Scout Van Sant and I were detailed to take the two rifles and +hunt for rabbits. We got three—two cottontails and a jack—among the +willows where a stream flowed down from the pass. The stream was +swarming here with little trout, and Jed Smith and Kit Carson caught +twenty-four in an hour. So we lived high again.</p> + +<p>Those Red Fox Scouts had a fine outfit. They had a water-proof silk +tent, with jointed poles. It folded to pocket size, and didn't weigh +anything at all; but when set up it was large enough for them both to +sleep in. Then they had a double sleeping bag, and blankets that were +light and warm both, and a lot of condensed foods and that little +alcohol stove, and a complete kit of aluminum cooking and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> eating ware +that closed together—and everything went into those two packs.</p> + +<p>They used the packs instead of burros or pack-horses. I believe that +animals are better in the mountains where a fellow climbs at ten and +twelve thousand feet, and where the nights are cold so he needs more +bedding than lower down. Man-packs are all right in the flat timber and +in the hills out East, I suppose. But all styles have their good points, +maybe; and a Scout must adapt himself to the country. We all can't be +the same.</p> + +<p>Because the Red Fox Scouts were Easterners, clear from New Jersey, and +we were Westerners, of Colorado, we sort of eyed them sideways, at +first. They had such a swell outfit, you know, and their uniform was +smack to the minute, while ours was rough and ready. They set up their +tent, and we let them—but our way was to sleep out, under tarps (when +we had tarps), in the open. We didn't know but what, on the march, they +might want to keep their own mess—they had so many things that we +didn't. But right away a good thing happened again.</p> + +<p>"How did Fitzpatrick lose his arm?" asked Scout Van Sant of me, when we +were out hunting and Fitz couldn't hear.</p> + +<p>"In the April Day mine," I said.</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Back home."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span></p> + +<p>He studied. "I <i>thought</i> the name of that town sounded awfully familiar +to me," he said.</p> + +<p>When we came into camp with our rabbits, he went straight up to Fitz.</p> + +<p>"I hear you hurt your arm in the April Day mine," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was working there," answered Fitz. "Why?"</p> + +<p>Van Sant stuck out his hand. "Shake," he said. "My father owns that +mine—or most of it. Ever hear of him?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Fitz, flushing. "I'm just a mucker and a sorter. My father's +a miner."</p> + +<p>"Well, shake," laughed Van Sant. "I never even mucked or sorted, and you +know more than I do about it. My father just owns—and if it wasn't for +the workers like you and your father, the mine wouldn't be worth owning. +See? I'm mighty sorry you got hurt there, though."</p> + +<p>Fitz shook hands. "It was partly my own fault," he said. "I took a +chance. That was before your father bought the mine, anyway."</p> + +<p>Then he went to cooking and we cleaned our game. But from that time on +we knew the Red Fox Scouts to be all right, and their being from the +East made no difference in them. So we and they used each other's +things, and we all mixed in together and were one party.</p> + +<p>We had a good camp and a big rest, this night:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> the first time of real +peace since a long while back, it seemed to me. The next morning we +pushed on, following up along the creek, and a faint trail, for the +pass.</p> + +<p>This day's march was a hard climb, every hour, and it took our wind, +afoot. But by evening old Pilot Peak wasn't far at all. His snow patches +were getting larger. When we camped in a little park we must have been +up about eleven thousand feet, and the breeze from the Divide ahead of +us blew cool.</p> + +<p>The march now led through aspens and pines and wild flowers, with the +stream singing, and forming little waterfalls and pools and rapids, and +full of those native trout about as large as your two fingers. There was +the old Indian trail, to guide us. It didn't have a track except +deer-tracks, and we might have been the only white persons ever here. +That was fine. Another sign was the amount of game. Of course, some of +the game may have been driven here by the forest fire. But we saw lots +of grouse, which sat as we passed by, and rabbits and porcupines, and +out of the aspens we jumped deer.</p> + +<p>We arrived where the pretty little stream, full of songs and pictures +and trout, came tumbling out of a canyon with bottom space for just it +alone. The old Indian trail obliqued off, up a slope, through the timber +on the right, and so did we.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span></p> + +<p>It was very quiet, here. The lumber folks had not got in with their saws +and axes, and the trees were great spruces, so high and stately that we +felt like ants. Among the shaded, nice-smelling aisles the old trail +wound. Sometimes it was so covered with the fallen needles that we could +not see it; and it had been blazed, years ago, by trappers or somebody, +and where it crossed glades we came upon it again. It was an easy trail.</p> + +<p>We reached the top of a little ridge, and before us we saw the pass. +'Twas a wide, open pass, with snow-banks showing on it, and the sun +swinging down to set behind it.</p> + +<p>The trail forked, one branch making for the pass, the other making for +the right, where Pilot Peak loomed close at hand. There was some reason +why the trail forked, and as we surveyed we caught the glint of a lake, +over there.</p> + +<p>Major Henry examined the sketch map. "That must be Medicine Lake," he +said. "I think we'd better go over there and camp, instead of trying the +pass. We're sure of wood and water, and it won't be so windy."</p> + +<p>The trail took us safely to the brow of a little basin, and looking down +we saw the lake. It was lying at the base of Pilot Peak. Above it on one +side rose a steep slope of a gray slide-rock, like a railway cut, only +of course no railroad was around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> here; and all about, on the other +sides, were pointed pines.</p> + +<p>I tell you, that was beautiful. And when we got to the lake we found it +to be black as ink—only upon looking into it you could see down, as if +you were looking through smoky crystal. The water was icy cold, and full +of specks dancing where the sun struck, and must have been terrifically +deep.</p> + +<p>We camped beside an old log cabin, all in ruins. It was partly roofed +over with sod, but we spread our beds outside; these old cabins are +great places for pack-rats and skunks and other animals like those. Fish +were jumping in the lake, and the two Red Fox Scouts and I were detailed +to catch some. The Red Fox Scouts tried flies, but the water was as +smooth as glass, and you can't fool these mountain lake-trout, very +often, that way. Then we put on spinners and trolled from the shores by +casting. We could see the fish, gliding sluggishly about,—great big +fellows; but they never noticed our hooks, and we didn't have a single +strike. So we must quit, disgusted.</p> + +<p>The night was grand. The moon was full, and came floating up over the +dark timber which we had left, to shine on us and on the black lake and +on the mountain. Resting there in our blankets, we Elk Scouts could see +all about us. The lake lay silent and glassy, except when now and then a +big old trout plashed. The slide-rock bank gleamed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> white, and above it +stretched the long rocky slope of Pilot, with the moon casting lights +and shadows clear to its top.</p> + +<p>This was a mighty lonely spot, up here, by the queer lake, with timber +on one side and the mountain on the other; the air was frosty, because +ice would form any night, so high; not a sound could be heard, save the +plash of trout, or the sighs of Apache as he fidgeted and dozed and +grazed; but the Red Fox Scouts were snug under their tent, and under our +bedding we Elks were cuddled warm, in two pairs and with Major Henry +sleeping single.</p> + +<p>We did not need to hobble or picket Apache. (<i>Note 56.</i>) He had come so +far that he followed like a dog and stayed around us like a dog. When +you get a burro out into the timber or desert wilds and have cut him +loose from his regular stamping ground, then he won't be separated from +you. He's afraid. Burros are awfully funny animals. They like company. +So when we camped we just turned Apache out, and he hung about pretty +close, expecting scraps of bread and stuff and enjoying our +conversation.</p> + +<p>To-night he kept snorting and fussing, and edging in on us, and before +we went to sleep we had to throw sticks at him and shoo him off. It +seemed too lonesome for him, up here. Then we dropped to sleep, under +the moon—and then, the first thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> Fitz and I knew, Apache was trying +to crawl into bed with us!</p> + +<p>That waked us. Nobody can sleep with a burro under the same blanket. +Apache was right astraddle of us and was shaking like an aspen leaf; his +long ears were pricked, he was glaring about, and how he snorted! I sat +up; so did Fitz. We were afraid that Apache might step on our faces.</p> + +<p>"Get out, Apache!" we begged. But he wouldn't "get." He didn't budge, +and we had to push him aside, with our hands against his stomach.</p> + +<p>Now the whole camp was astir, grumbling and turning. Apache ran and +tried to bunk with Kit and Jed. "Get out!" scolded Kit; and repulsed +here, poor Apache stuck his nose in between the flaps of the silk tent +and began to shove inside.</p> + +<p>Something crackled amidst the brush along the lake, and there sounded a +snort from that direction, also. It was a peculiar snort. It was a +grunty, blowy snort. And beside me Fitz stiffened and lifted his head +further.</p> + +<p>"Bear!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Whoof!" it answered.</p> + +<p>"Bear! Look out! There's a bear around!" said the camp, from bed to bed.</p> + +<p>Down came the silk tent on top of Apache, and out from under wriggled +the Red Fox Scouts, as fast as they could move. Their hair was rumpled +up, they were pale in the moonlight, and Van Sant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> had his twenty-two +rifle ready. That must have startled them, to be waked by a big thing +like Apache forcing a way into their tent.</p> + +<p>"Who said bear? Where is it?" demanded Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"Don't shoot!" ordered Major Henry, sharply, sitting up. "Don't anybody +shoot. That will make things worse. Tumble out, everybody, and raise a +noise. Give a yell. We can scare him."</p> + +<p>"I see it!" cried Ward. "Look! In that clear spot yonder—up along the +lake, about thirty yards."</p> + +<p>Right! A blackish thing as big as a cow was standing out in the +moonlight, facing us, its head high. We could almost see its nostrils as +it sniffed.</p> + +<p>Up we sprang, and whooped and shouted and waved and threw sticks and +stones into the brush. With another tremendous "Whoof!" the bear +wheeled, and went crashing through the brush as if it had a tin can tied +to its tail. We all cheered and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Jiminy! I ought to have tried a flashlight of it," exclaimed Fitz, +excited. "If we see another bear I'm sure going to get its picture. I +need some bear pictures. Don't let's be in such a hurry, next time."</p> + +<p>"That depends on the bear," said little Jed Smith. "Sometimes you can't +help being in a hurry, with a bear."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> + +<p>"Guess we'd better dig the burro out of our tent," remarked Scout Ward. +"He smelled that bear, didn't he?"</p> + +<p>He certainly did. If there's one thing a burro is afraid of, it's a +bear. No wonder poor Apache tried to crawl in with us. We hauled him +loose of the tent, and helped the Red Fox Scouts set the tent up again. +Apache snorted and stared about; and finally he quieted a little and +went to browsing, close by, and we Scouts turned in to sleep again.</p> + +<p>When I woke the next time it was morning and the bear had not come back, +for Apache was standing fast asleep in the first rays of the sun, at the +edge of the camp.</p> + +<p>We could catch no fish for breakfast. They paid no attention to any +bait. So we had the last of the meat, and some condensed sausage that +the Red Fox Scouts contributed to the pot. During breakfast we held a +council; old Pilot Peak stuck up so near and inviting.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking, boys, that maybe we ought to climb Pilot, for a +record, now we've got a good chance," proposed Major Henry. "What do you +say. Shall we vote on it?"</p> + +<p>"How high is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>Major Henry looked at the map of the state. "Fourteen thousand, two +hundred and ten feet."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Scout Ward eyed it. "We'd certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> like to make it. That would +be a chance for an honor, eh, Van?"</p> + +<p>"You bet," agreed Van Sant.</p> + +<p>"He's sure some mountain," we said.</p> + +<p>"We haven't any time to spare from the trail," went on Major Henry, "and +it would kill a day, to the top and back. So we ought to double up by +traveling by night, some. But that wouldn't hurt any; it would be fun, +by moonlight. Now, if you're ready, all who vote to take the Red Fox +Scouts and climb old Pilot Peak for a record hold up their right hands."</p> + +<p>"We won't vote. Don't make the climb on our account," cried the Red Fox +Scouts.</p> + +<p>"Let's do it. I've never been fourteen thousand feet, myself," declared +Fitz.</p> + +<p>And we all held up our right hands.</p> + +<p>"Bueno," quoth Major Henry. "Then we go. We'll climb Pilot and put in +extra time on the trail. Cache the stuff, police the camp, put out the +fire, take what grub we can in our pockets, and the sooner we start the +better."</p> + +<p>Maybe we ought not to have done this. Our business was the message. We +weren't out for fun or for honors. We were out to carry that message +through in the shortest time possible. The climb was not necessary—and +I for one had a sneaking hunch that we were making a mistake. But I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +voted yes, and so had we all. If anybody had felt dubious, he ought to +have voted no.</p> + +<p>In the next chapter you will read what we got, by fooling with a side +issue.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2><h3>VAN SANT'S LAST CARTRIDGE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The way to climb a mountain is not to tackle it by the short, steep way, +but to go up by zigzags, through little gulches and passes. You arrive +about as quick and you arrive easier.</p> + +<p>Now from camp we eyed Old Pilot, calculating. Major Henry pointed.</p> + +<p>"We'll follow up that draw, first," he said. "Then we can cross over to +that ledge, and wind around and hit the long stretch, where the snow +patches are. After that, I believe, we can go right on up."</p> + +<p>We had just rounded the lower end of the lake, and were obliquing off +and up for the draw, when we heard a funny bawly screech behind us, and +a clattering, and along at a gallop came Apache, much excited, and at a +trot joined our rear. He did not propose to be left alone! We were glad +enough to have him, if he wanted to make the climb, too. He followed us +all the way, eating things, and gained a Scout mountain honor.</p> + +<p>We were traveling light, of course. Fitz had his camera slung over his +shoulder, Red Fox Scout Van<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> Sant had his twenty-two rifle, because we +thought we might run into some grouse, and the law on grouse was out at +last and we needed meat. Nobody bothered with staffs. They're no good +when you must use hands and knees all at once, as you do on some of the +Rocky Mountains. They're a bother.</p> + +<p>We struck into the draw. It was shallow and bushy, with sarvice-berries +and squaw-berries and gooseberries; but we didn't stop to eat. We let +Apache do the eating. Our thought was to reach the very tip-top of +Pilot.</p> + +<p>The sun shone hot, making us sweat as we followed up through the draw, +in single file, Major Henry leading, Fitz next, then the Red Fox Scouts, +and we three others strung out behind, with Apache closing the rear. The +draw brought us out, as we had planned, opposite the ledge, and we swung +off to this.</p> + +<p>Now we were up quite high. We halted to take breath and puff. The ledge +was broad and flat and grassy, with rimrock behind it; and from it we +could look down upon the lake, far below, and the place of our camp, and +the big timber through which we had trailed, and away in the distance +was the mesa or plateau that we had crossed after the forest fire. We +were above timber-line, and all around us were only sunshine and +bareness, and warmth and nice clean smells.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> + +<p>"Whew!" sighed Red Fox Scout Ward. "It's fine, fellows."</p> + +<p>That was enough. We knew how he felt. We felt the same.</p> + +<p>But of course we weren't at the top, not by any means. Major Henry +started again, on the upward trail. We followed along the ledge around +the rimrock until we came to a little pass through. That brought us into +a regular maze of big rocks, lying as if a chunk as big as a city block +had dropped and smashed, scattering pieces all about. This spot didn't +show from below. That is the way with mountains. They look smooth, but +when you get up close they break out into hills and holes and rocks and +all kinds of unexpected places, worse than measles.</p> + +<p>But among these jagged chunks we threaded, back and forth, always trying +to push ahead, until suddenly Red Fox Scout Ward called, "I'm out!" and +we went to him. So he was.</p> + +<p>That long, bare slope lay beyond, blotched with snow. The snow had not +seemed much, from below; but now it was in large patches, with drifts so +hard that we could walk on them. One drift was forty feet thick; it was +lodged against a brow, and down its face was trickling black water, +streaking it. This snow-bank away up here was the beginning of a river, +and helped make the lake.</p> + +<p>We had spread out, with Apache still behind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> Suddenly little Jed +called. "See the chickens?" he said.</p> + +<p>We went over. Chirps were to be heard, and there among the drifts, on +the gravelly slope, were running and pecking and squatting a lot of +birds about like gray speckled Brahmas. They were as tame as speckled +Brahmas, too. They had red eyes and whitish tails.</p> + +<p>"Ptarmigan!" exclaimed Fitz, and he began to take pictures. He got some +first-class ones.</p> + +<p>Red Fox Scout Van Sant never made a move to shoot any of them. They were +so tame and barn-yardy. We were glad enough to let them live, away up +here among the snowdrifts, where they seemed to like to be. It was their +country, not ours—and they were plucky, to choose it. So we passed on.</p> + +<p>The slope brought us up to a wide moraine, I guess you'd call it, where +great bowlders were heaped as thick as pebbles—bowlders and blocks as +large as cottages. These had not looked to be much, either, from below.</p> + +<p>On the edge of them we halted, to look down and behind again. Now we +were much higher. The ledge was small and far, and the timber was small +and farther, and the world was beginning to lie flat like a map. On the +level with us were only a few other peaks, in the snowy Medicine Range. +The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> pass itself was so low that we could scarcely make it out.</p> + +<p>To cross that bowlder moraine was a terrific job. We climbed and +sprawled, and were now up, now down. It was a go-as-you-please. +Everywhere among the bowlders were whistling rock-rabbits, or conies. +They were about the size of small guinea-pigs, and had short tails and +round, flat bat ears plastered close to their heads. They had their +mouths crammed full of dried grass, which they carried into their nests +through crannies—putting away hay for the winter! It was mighty +cheerful to have them so busy and greeting us, away up in these lonely +heights, and Fitz got some more good animal pictures.</p> + +<p>Apache was in great distress. He couldn't navigate those bowlders. We +could hear him "hee-hawing" on the lower edge, and could see him staring +after us and racing frantically back and forth. But we must go on; we +would pick him up on our way down.</p> + +<p>Well, we got over the bowlder field—Fitz as spryly as any of us. Having +only one good arm made no difference to him, and he never would accept +help. He was independent, and we only kept an eye on him and let him +alone. The bowlders petered out; and now ahead was another slope, with +more snow patches, and short dead grass in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> little bunches; and it ended +in a bare outcrop: the top!</p> + +<p>Our feet weighed twenty-five pounds each, our knees were wobbly, we +could hear each other pant, and my heart thumped so that the beats all +ran together. But with a cheer we toiled hard for the summit, before +resting. We didn't race—not at fourteen thousand feet; we weren't so +foolish—and I don't know who reached it first. Anyway, soon we all were +there.</p> + +<p>We had climbed old Pilot Peak! The top was flat and warm and dry, so we +could sit. The sky was close above; around about was nothing but the +clear air. East, west, north and south, below us, were hills and valleys +and timber and parks and streams, with the cloud-shadows drifting +across. We didn't say one word. The right words didn't exist, somehow, +and what was the use in exclaiming when we all felt alike, and could +look and see for ourselves? You don't seem to amount to much when you +are up, like this, on a mountain, near the sky, with the world spread +out below and not missing you; and a boy's voice, or a man's, is about +the size of a cricket's chirp. The silence is one of the best things you +find. So we sat and looked and thought.</p> + +<p>But on a sudden we did hear a noise—a rattling and "Hee-haw!" And here, +from a different side, came Apache again. He had got past those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> +bowlders, somehow. With another "Hee-haw!" he trotted right up on top, +in amidst us, where he stood, with a big sigh, looking around, too.</p> + +<p>This was the chance for us to map out the country ahead, on the other +side of the pass. So we took a good long survey. It was a rough country, +as bad as that which we had left; with much timber and many hills and +valleys. Down in some of the valleys were yellow patches, like hay +ranches, and forty or fifty miles away seemed to be a little haze of +smoke, which must be a town: Green Valley, where we were bound! Hurrah! +But we hadn't got there, yet.</p> + +<p>Major Henry made a rough sketch of the country, with Pilot Peak as base +point and a jagged, reddish tip, over toward the smoke, as another +landmark. Our course ought to be due west from Pilot, keeping to the +south of that reddish tip.</p> + +<p>We had a little lunch, and after cleaning up after ourselves we saluted +the old peak with the Scouts' cheer, saying good-by to it; and then we +started down. We discovered that we could go around the bowlder-field, +as Apache had done. When we struck the snow-patch slope we obliqued over +to our trail up, and began to back track. Back-tracking was the safe +way, because we knew that this would bring us out. Down we went, with +long steps, almost flying, and leaving behind us the busy conies and the +tame ptarmigans, to inhabit the peak until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> we should come again. We +even tried not to tramp on the flowers. (<i>Note 57.</i>)</p> + +<p>Through the maze of rock masses we threaded, and along the grassy ledge, +and entered the bush draw. By the sun it was noon, but we had plenty of +time, and we spread out in the draw, taking things easy and picking +berries. We didn't know but what we might come upon some grouse, in +here, too, for the trickle from that snow-bank drained through and there +was a bunch of aspens toward the bottom. But instead we came upon a +bear!</p> + +<p>I heard Red Fox Scout Ward call, sharp and excited: "Look out, fellows! +Here's another bear!"</p> + +<p>That stopped us short.</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Right in front of me! He's eating berries. And I see another, +too—sitting, looking at me."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" called back Fitz, excited. "Let 'em alone. I'll get a picture."</p> + +<p>That was just like Fitzpatrick. He wanted to take pictures of everything +alive.</p> + +<p>"Yes; let 'em alone," warned Major Henry, shouting.</p> + +<p>For that's all a bear in a berry-patch asks; to be let alone. He's +satisfied with the berries. In fact, all a bear asks, anyway, is to be +let alone, and up here on the mountain these bears weren't doing any +harm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where are you?" called Fitz.</p> + +<p>"On this rock."</p> + +<p>Now we could see Scout Ward, with hand up; and over hustled Fitz, and +over we all hustled, from different directions.</p> + +<p>They were not large bears. They looked like the little brown or black +bears, it was hard to tell which; but the small kind isn't dangerous. +They were across on the edge of a clearing, and were stripping the +bushes. Once in a while they would sit up and eye us, while slobbering +down the berries; then they would go to eating again.</p> + +<p>Fitz had his camera unslung and taken down. He walked right out, toward +them, and snapped, but it wouldn't be a very good picture. They were too +far to show up plainly.</p> + +<p>"I'll sneak around behind and drive them out," volunteered little Jed +Smith; and without waiting for orders he and Kit started, and we all +except Fitz spread out to help in the surround. Fitz made ready to take +them on the run. Nobody is afraid of the little brown or black bear.</p> + +<p>Jed and Kit were just entering the bushes to make the circuit on their +side, when we heard Apache snorting and galloping, and a roar and a +"Whoof!" and out from the brush over there burst the burro, with another +bear chasing him. This was no little bear. It was a great big bear—an +old she cinnamon, and these others weren't the small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> brown or black +bears, either: they were half-grown cinnamon cubs!</p> + +<p>How she came! Kit Carson and Jed Smith were right in her path.</p> + +<p>"Look out!" we yelled.</p> + +<p>Kit and little Jed leaped to dodge. She struck like a cat as she passed, +and head over heels went poor little Jed, sprawling in the brush, and +she passed on, straight to her cubs. They met her, and she smelled them +for a moment. She lifted her broad, short head, and snarled.</p> + +<p>"Don't do a thing," ordered Major Henry. "She'll leave."</p> + +<p>So we stood stock-still. That was all we <i>could</i> do. We knew that poor +little Jed was lying perhaps badly wounded, off there in the brush, but +it wouldn't help to call the old bear's attention to him again. In the +open place Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand stood; he was right in front of the +old bear, and he was <i>taking pictures</i>!</p> + +<p>The old bear saw him, and he and the camera seemed to make her mad. +Maybe she took it for a weapon. She lowered her head, swung it to and +fro, her bristles rose still higher, and across the open space she +started.</p> + +<p>"Fitz!" we shrieked. And I said to myself, sort of crying: "Oh, jiminy!"</p> + +<p>We all set up a tremendous yell, but that didn't turn her. Major Henry +jumped forward, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> tugged to pull loose a stone. I looked for a stone +to throw. Of course I couldn't find one. Then out of the corner of my +eye, while I was watching Fitz, too, I glimpsed Red Fox Scout Van Sant +coming running, and shooting with his twenty-two. The bullets spatted +into the bear's hide, and stung her.</p> + +<p>"Run, Fitz!" called Van Sant. "I'll stop her."</p> + +<p>But he didn't, yet. Hardly! That Fitz had just been winding his film. He +took the camera from between his knees, where he had held it while he +used his one hand, and he leveled it like lightning, on the old +bear—and took her picture again. That picture won a prize, after we got +back to civilization. But the old bear kept coming.</p> + +<p>We all were shouting, in vain,—shouting all kinds of things. Red Fox +Scout Van Sant sprang to Fitz's side, and again we heard him say: "Run, +Fitz! Over here. Make for the rock. I'll stop her."</p> + +<p>It was the outcrop where Ward had been. Fitz jumped to make for it. He +hugged his camera as he ran. We thought that Van Sant would make for it, +too. But he let Fitz pass him, and he stood. The old bear was coming, +crazy. She only halted to scratch where a twenty-two pellet had stung +her hide. Van Sant waited, steady as a rock. He lifted his little rifle +slowly and held on her, and just as she was about to reach him he +fired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> + +<p>"Crack!"</p> + +<p>Headfirst she plunged. She kicked and ripped the ground, and didn't get +up again. She lay still, amidst a silence, we all watching, breathless. +Beyond, Fitzpatrick had closed his precious camera as he ran, and now at +the rock had turned.</p> + +<p>"Shoot her again, Van!" begged Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>"I can't," he answered. "That was my last cartridge. But she's dead. I +hit her in the eye." And he lowered his rifle.</p> + +<p>Then we gave a great cheer, and rushed for the spot—except Major Henry; +he was the first to think and he rushed to see to little Jed Smith. +Fitzpatrick shook hands hard with Red Fox Scout Van Sant and followed +the major.</p> + +<p>Yes, the old bear was stone dead. Van Sant had shot her through the eye, +into the brain. That was enough. Ward and I shook hands with him, too. +He had shown true Scouts' nerve, to sail in in that way, and to meet the +danger and to be steady under fire.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I was the only one who could do anything," he explained. "I +knew it was my last cartridge and I had to make it count. That's all."</p> + +<p>Then we hurried down to where the Major and Fitz and Kit Carson were +gathered about little Jed. Jed wasn't dead. No; we could see him move. +And Fitz called: "He's all right. But his shoulder's out and his leg is +torn."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></p> + +<p>Little Jed was pale but game. His right arm hung dangling and useless, +and his right calf was bloody. The whole arm hung dangling because the +shoulder was hurt; but it was not a fractured collarbone, for when we +had laid open Jed's shirt we could feel and see. The shoulder was out of +shape, and commencing to swell, and the arm hung lower than the well +arm. (<i>Note 58.</i>)</p> + +<p>We let the wound of the calf go, for we must get at this dislocation, +before the shoulder was too sore and rigid. We knew what to do. Jed was +stretched on his back, Red Fox Scout Ward sat at his head, steadying him +around the body, and with his stockinged heel under Jed's armpit Major +Henry pulled down on the arm and shoved up against it with his heel at +the same time. That hurt. Jed turned very white, and let out a big +grunt—but we heard a fine snap, and we knew that the head of the +arm-bone had chucked back into the shoulder-socket where it belonged.</p> + +<p>So that was over; and we were glad,—Jed especially. We bound his arm +with a handkerchief sling across to the other shoulder, to keep the +joint in place for a while, and we went at his leg.</p> + +<p>The old bear's paw had cuffed him on the shoulder and then must have +slipped down and landed on his calf as he sprawled. The boot-top had +been ripped open and the claws had cut through into the flesh, tearing a +set of furrows. It was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> bad-looking wound and was bleeding like +everything. But the blood was just the ordinary oozy kind, and so we let +it come, to clean the wound well. Then we laid some sterilized gauze +from our first-aid outfit upon it, to help clot the blood, and sifted +borax over, and bound it tight with adhesive plaster, holding the edges +of the furrows together. Over that we bound on loosely a dry pack of +other gauze.</p> + +<p>We left Jed (who was pale but thankful) with Red Fox Scout Ward and went +up to the bear. Kit Carson wanted to see her. She was still dead, and +off on the edge of the brush her two cubs were sniffing in her +direction, wondering and trying to find out.</p> + +<p>Yes, that had been a nervy stand made by Scout Van Sant, and a good +shot. Fitzpatrick reached across and shook his hand again.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I stopped to thank you, but it's worth doing +twice. I'm much obliged."</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it," laughed Van Sant.</p> + +<p>Then we all laughed. That was better. There isn't much that can be said, +when you feel a whole lot. But you <i>know</i>, just the same. And we all +were Scouts.</p> + +<p>Somehow, the big limp body of the old mother bear now made us sober. We +hadn't intended to kill her, and of course she was only protecting her +cubs. It wasn't our mountain; and it wasn't our berry-patch. She had +discovered it first. We had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> intruded on her, not she on us. It all was +a misunderstanding.</p> + +<p>So we didn't gloat over her, or kick her, or sit upon her, now that she +could not defend herself. But we must do some quick thinking.</p> + +<p>"Kit Carson, you and Bridger catch Apache," ordered Major Henry. "Fitz +and I will help Scout Van Sant skin his bear."</p> + +<p>"She's not my bear," said Scout Van Sant. "I won't take her. She belongs +to all of us."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Major Henry, "it's a pity just to let her lie and to +waste her. We can use the meat."</p> + +<p>"The pelt's no good, is it?" asked Fitz.</p> + +<p>"Not much, in the summer. But we'll take it off, and put the meat in it, +to carry."</p> + +<p>They set to work. Kit Carson and I started after the burro. He had run +off, up the mountain again, and we couldn't catch him. He was too +nervous. We'd get close to him, and with a snort and a toss of his ears +he would jump away and fool us. That was very aggravating.</p> + +<p>"If we only had a rope we could rope him," said Kit. But we didn't. +There was no profit in chasing a burro all over a mountain, and so, hot +and tired, we went back and reported.</p> + +<p>The old bear had been skinned and butchered, after a fashion. The head +was left on the hide, for the brains. At first Major Henry talked of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> +sending down to camp for a blanket and making a litter out of it. We +would have hard work to carry Jed in our arms. But Jed was weak and sick +and didn't want to wait for the blanket. Apache would have been a big +help, only he was so foolish. But we had a scheme. Scouts always manage. +(<i>Note 59.</i>)</p> + +<p>We made a litter of the bear-pelt! Down we scurried to the aspens and +found two dead sticks. We stuck one through holes in the pelt's fore +legs, and one through holes in the pelt's hind legs, and tied the legs +about with cord. We set little Jed in the hair side, facing the bear's +head, turned back over; the Major, the two Red Fox Scouts, and Kit +Carson took each an end of the sticks; Fitzpatrick and I carried the +meat, stuck on sticks, over our shoulders; and in a procession like +cave-men or trappers returning from a hunt we descended the mountain, +leaving death and blood where we had intended to leave only peace as we +had found it.</p> + +<p>Apache made a big circuit to follow us. The two cubs sneaked forward, to +sniff at the bones where their mother had been cut up—and began to eat +her. We were glad to know that they did not feel badly yet, and that +they were old enough to take care of themselves.</p> + +<p>But as we stumbled and tugged, carrying wounded Jed down the draw, we +knew plainly that we ought to have let that mountain alone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 373px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-006" id="illus-006"></a> +<img src="images/illus-214.jpg" alt=""LIKE CAVE-MEN OR TRAPPERS RETURNING FROM A HUNT WE DESCENDED."" title="" width="373" height="577" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"LIKE CAVE-MEN OR TRAPPERS RETURNING FROM A HUNT WE DESCENDED."</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2><h3>FITZ THE BAD HAND'S GOOD THROW</h3> +</div> + +<p>That green bear-pelt and Jed together were almost too heavy, so that we +went slow and careful and stopped often, to rest us. The sun was setting +when at last we got down to camp again—and we arrived, a very different +party from that which had gone out twelve hours before. It was a sorry +home-coming. But we must not lament or complain over what was our own +fault. We must do our best to turn it to account. We must be Scouts.</p> + +<p>We made Jed comfortable on a blanket bed. His leg we let alone, as the +bandage seemed to be all right. And his shoulder we of course let alone. +Then we took stock. Major Henry decided very quickly.</p> + +<p>"Jed can't travel. He will have to stay here till his wounds heal more, +and Kit Carson will have to stay with him. I'd stay, instead, because +I'm to blame for wasting some men and some time; but the general passed +the command on to me and I ought to go as far as I possibly can. We'll +fix Kit and Jed the best we're able, and to-morrow we'll hustle on and +make night marches, if we need to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span></p> + +<p>This was sense. Anyway, although we had wasted men and time, we were now +stocked up with provisions; all that bear meat! While Fitzpatrick and +Red Fox Scout Ward were cooking supper and poor Jed looked on, two of us +went at the meat to cut it into strips for jerking, and two of us +stretched the pelt to grain it before it dried.</p> + +<p>We cut the meat into the strips and piled them until we could string +them to smoke and dry them. We then washed for supper, because we were +pretty bloody with the work of cutting. After supper, by moonlight, we +strung the strips with a sailor's needle and cord which the Red Fox +Scouts had in their kit, and erected a scaffolding of four fork-sticks +with two other sticks laid across at the ends. We stretched the strings +of meat in lines, back and forth. Next thing was to make a smudge under +and to lay a tarp over to hold the smudge while the meat should smoke. +(<i>Note 60.</i>)</p> + +<p>Pine smoke is no good, because it is so strong. Alder makes a fine sweet +smoke, but we didn't have any alder, up here. We used aspen, as the next +best thing at hand. And by the time we had the pelt grained and the meat +strung and had toted enough aspen, we were tired.</p> + +<p>But somebody must stay awake, to tend to Jed and give him a drink and +keep him company, and to watch the smudge, that it didn't flame up too +fierce and that it didn't go out. By smoking and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> drying the meat all +night and by drying it in the sun afterward, Major Henry thought that it +would be ready so that we could take our share along with us.</p> + +<p>If we had that, then we would not need to stop to hunt, and we could +make short camps, as we pleased. You see, we had only four days in which +to deliver the message; and we had just reached the pass!</p> + +<p>This was a kind of miserable night. Jed of course had a bed to himself, +which used up blankets. The others of us stood watch an hour and a half +each, over him and over the smudge. He was awful restless, because his +leg hurt like sixty, and none of us slept very well, after the +excitement. I was sleepiest when the time came for us to get up.</p> + +<p>We had breakfast, of bear steak and bread or biscuits and gravy. The +meat we were jerking seemed to have been smoked splendidly. The tarp was +smoked, anyhow. We took it off and aired it, and left the strips as they +were, to dry some more in the sun. They were dark, and quite stiff and +hard, and by noon they were brittle as old leather. The hide was dry, +too, and ready for working over with brains and water, and for smoking. +(<i>Note 61.</i>)</p> + +<p>But we left that to Kit. Now we must take the trail again. We spent the +morning fussing, and making the cabin tight for Jed and Kit; at last +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> meat had been jerked so that our share would keep, and we had done +all that we could, and we were in shape to carry the message on over the +pass and down to Green Valley.</p> + +<p>"All right," spoke Major Henry, after dinner. "Let's be off. Scout +Carson, we leave Scout Smith in your charge. You and he stay right here +until he's able to travel. Then you can follow over the pass and hit +Green Valley, or you can back-track for the Ranger's cabin and for home. +Apache will come in soon and you'll have him to pack out with. You'll be +entitled to just as much honor by bringing Jed out safe as we will by +carrying the message. Isn't that so, boys?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," we said.</p> + +<p>But naturally Kit hated to stay behind. Only, somebody must; it was +Scouts' duty. We all shook hands with him and with wounded Jed (who +hated staying, too), and said "Adios," and started off.</p> + +<p>Apache had not appeared, and we were to pack our own outfit. We left Jed +and Kit enough meat and all the flour (which wasn't much) and what other +stuff we could spare (they had the bearskin to use for bedding as soon +as it was tanned) and one rope and our twenty-two rifle, and the +Ranger's fry-pan and two cups, and we divided among us what we could +carry.</p> + +<p>"Now we've got three days and a half to get through in," announced Major +Henry. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> counted the days on the trail to make sure. Yes, three days +and a half. "And besides, these Red Fox Scouts must catch a train in +time to make connections for that Yellowstone trip. We've put in too +much time, and I think we ought to travel by night as well as by day, +for a while."</p> + +<p>"Short sleeps and long marches; that's my vote," said Fitz.</p> + +<p>"Don't do it on our account," put in the Red Fox Scouts. "But we're +game. We'll travel as fast as you want to."</p> + +<p>So we decided. And now only three Elk Scouts, instead of six, and two +Red Fox Scouts, again we took the long trail. In the Ranger's cabin +behind was our gallant leader General Ashley, and in this other cabin by +the lake were Jed Smith and Kit Carson. Thus our ranks were being +thinned.</p> + +<p>We followed the trail from the lake and struck the old Indian trail +again, leading over the pass. About the middle of the afternoon we were +at the pass itself. It was wide and smooth and open and covered with +gravel and short grass and little low flowers like daisies. On either +side were brownish red jagged peaks and rimrock faces, specked with +snow. The wind blew strong and cold. There were many sheep-tracks, where +bands had been trailed over, for the low country or for the summer +range. It was a wild, desolate region, with nothing moving except +ourselves and a big hawk high above;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> but we pressed on fast, in close +order, our packs on our backs, Major Henry leading. And we were lonesome +without Kit and Jed.</p> + +<p>Old Pilot Peak gradually sank behind us; the country before began to +spread out into timber and meadow and valley. Pretty soon we caught up +with a little stream. It flowed in the same direction that we were +going, and we knew that we were across the pass and that we were on the +other side of the Medicine Range, at last! Hurrah!</p> + +<p>We were stepping long, down-hill. We came to dwarf cedars, and buck +brush, showing that we were getting lower. And at a sudden halt by the +major, in a nice golden twilight we threw off our packs and halted for +supper beside the stream, among some aspens—the first ones.</p> + +<p>About an hour after sunset the moon rose, opposite—a big round moon, +lighting everything so that travel would be easy. We had stocked up on +the jerked bear-meat, roasted on sharp sticks, and on coffee from the +cubes that the Red Fox Scouts carried, and we were ready. The jerked +bear-meat was fine and made us feel strong. So now Major Henry stood, +and swung his pack; and we all stood.</p> + +<p>"Let's hike," he said.</p> + +<p>That was a beautiful march. The air was crisp and quiet, the moon +mounted higher, flooding the country with silver. Once in a while a +coyote barked. The rabbits all were out, hopping in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> shine and +shadow. We saw a snowshoe kind, with its big hairy feet. We saw several +porcupines, and an owl as large as a buzzard. This was a different world +from that of day, and it seemed to us that people miss a lot of things +by sleeping.</p> + +<p>Our course was due west, by the North Star. We were down off the pass, +and had struck a valley, with meadow and scattered pines, and a stream +rippling through, and the moonlight lying white and still. In about +three hours we came upon sign of another camp, where somebody had +stopped and had made a fire and had eaten. There were burro tracks here, +so that it might have been a prospectors' camp; and there was an empty +tin can like a large coffee can.</p> + +<p>"I think we had better rest again," said Major Henry. "We can have a +snack and a short sleep."</p> + +<p>We didn't cook any meat. We weren't going to take out any of the Red Fox +dishes, but Fitz started to fill the tin can with water, to make soup in +that. It was Red Fox Scout Ward who warned us.</p> + +<p>"Here," he objected. "Do you think we ought to do that? You know +sometimes a tin can gives off poison when you cook in it."</p> + +<p>"And we don't know what was in this can," added Van Sant. "We don't want +to get ptomaine poisoning. I'd rather unpack ten packs than run any +risk."</p> + +<p>That was sense. The can <i>looked</i> clean, inside,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> and the idea of being +made sick by it hadn't occurred to us Elks. But we remembered, now, some +things that we'd read. So we kicked the can to one side, that nobody +else should use it, and Fitz made the soup in a regulation dish from the +Red Fox aluminum kit. (<i>Note 62.</i>)</p> + +<p>We drank the soup and each chewed a slice of the bear-meat cold. It was +sweet and good, and the soup helped out. Then we rolled in our blankets +and went to sleep. We all had it on our minds to wake in four hours, and +the mind is a regular clock if you train it.</p> + +<p>I woke just about right, according to the stars. The two stars in the +bottom of the Little Dipper, that we used for an hour hand, had been +exactly above a pointed spruce, when I had dozed off, and now when I +looked they had moved about three feet around the Pole Star. While I lay +blinking and warm and comfortable, and not thinking of anything in +particular, I heard a crackle of sticks and the scratch of a match. And +there squatting on the edge of a shadow was somebody already up and +making a fire.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Fitz?" asked Major Henry.</p> + +<p>"Yes. You fellows lie still a few seconds longer and I'll have some tea +for you."</p> + +<p>Good old Fitz! He need not have done that. He had not been ordered to. +But it was a thoughtful Scout act—and was a Fitz act, to boot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></p> + +<p>Scouts Ward and Van Sant were awake now; and we all lay watching Fitz, +and waiting, as he had asked us to. Then when we saw him put in the +tea—</p> + +<p>"Levez!" spoke Major Henry; which is the old trapper custom. "Levez! Get +up!" (<i>Note 63.</i>)</p> + +<p>Up we sprang, into the cold, and with our blankets about our shoulders, +Indian fashion, we each drank a good swig of hot tea. Then we washed our +faces, and packed our blankets, and took the trail.</p> + +<p>It was about three in the morning. The moon was halfway down the west, +and the air was chill and had that peculiar feel of just before morning. +Everything was ghostly, as we slipped along, but a few birds were +twittering sleepily. Once a coyote crossed our path—stopped to look +back at us, and trotted away again.</p> + +<p>Gradually the east began to pale; there were fewer stars along that +horizon than along the horizon where the moon was setting. The burro +tracks were plain before us, in the trail that led down the valley. The +trail inclined off to the left, or to the south of west; but we +concluded to follow it because we could make better time and we believed +that the railroad lay in that direction. The Red Fox Scouts ought to be +taken as near to the railroad as possible, before we left them. They had +been mighty good to us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span></p> + +<p>The moon sank, soon the sun would be up; the birds were moving as well +as chirping, the east was brightening, and already the tip of Pilot +Peak, far away behind us with Kit and Jed sleeping at his base, was +touched with pink, when we came upon a camp.</p> + +<p>Red Fox Scout Van Sant, who was leading, suddenly stopped short and +lifted his hand in warning. Before, in a bend of the stream that we were +skirting, among the pines and spruces beside it was a lean-to, with a +blackened fire, and two figures rolled in blankets; and back from the +stream a little way, across in an open grassy spot, was a burro. It had +been grazing, but now it was eying us with head and ears up. Red Fox +Scout Van had sighted the burro first and next, of course, the lean-to +camp.</p> + +<p>We stood stock-still, surveying.</p> + +<p>"Cache!" whispered Major Henry (which means "Hide"); and we stepped +softly aside into the brush. For that burro looked very much like Sally, +who had been taken from us by the two recruits when they had stolen +Apache also—and by the way that the figures were lying, under a +lean-to, they might be the renegade recruits themselves. It was a +hostile camp!</p> + +<p>"What is it?" whispered Red Fox Scout Ward, his eyes sparkling. "Enemy?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," murmured Major Henry.</p> + +<p>"We can pass."</p> + +<p>"Sure. But if that's our burro we ought to take her." And the major +explained.</p> + +<p>The Red Foxes nodded.</p> + +<p>"But if she isn't, then we don't want her. One of us ought to +reconnoiter." And the major hesitated. "Fitz, you go," he said. And this +rather surprised me, because naturally the major ought to have gone +himself, he being the leader. "I've got a side-ache, somehow," he added, +apologizing. "It isn't much—but it might interfere with my crawling."</p> + +<p>Fitz was only too ready to do the stalking. He left his pack, and with a +détour began sneaking upon the lean-to. We watched, breathless. But the +figures never stirred. Fitz came out, opposite, and from bush to bush +and tree to tree he crept nearer and nearer, with little darts from +cover to cover; and at last very cautiously, on his hands and knees; and +finally wriggling on his belly like a snake.</p> + +<p>'Twas fine stalking, and we were glad that the Red Fox Scouts were here +to see. But it seemed to us that Fitz was getting too near. However, the +figures did not move, and did not know—and now Fitz was almost upon +them. From behind a tree only a yard away from them he stretched his +neck and peered, for half a minute. Then he crawled backward, and +disappeared. Presently he was with us again.</p> + +<p>"It's they, sir," he reported. "Bat and Walt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> They're asleep. And that +is Sally, I'm certain. I know her by the white spot on her back."</p> + +<p>"We must have her," said the major. "She's ours. We'll get her and pack +her, so we can travel better."</p> + +<p>"Can we catch her, all right?" queried Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "We're +liable to wake those two fellows up, aren't we?"</p> + +<p>"What if we do?" put in his partner, Scout Ward. "Three of us can guard +them, and the other two can chase the burro."</p> + +<p>"No," said Major Henry. "I think we can rope her and be off before those +renegades know anything about it. Can you, Fitz?"</p> + +<p>Fitz nodded, eager.</p> + +<p>"Then take the rope, and go after her."</p> + +<p>Fitz did. He was a boss roper, too. You wouldn't believe it, of a +one-armed boy, but it was so. All we Elk Scouts could throw a rope some. +A rope comes in pretty handy, at times. Most range horses have to be +caught in the corral with a rope, and knowing how to throw a rope will +pull a man out of a stream or out of a hole and will perhaps save his +life. But Fitz was our prize roper, because he had practiced harder than +any of us, to make up for having only one arm.</p> + +<p>The way he did was to carry the coil on his stump, and the lash end in +his teeth; and when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> had cast, quick as lightning he took the end +from between his teeth ready to haul on it.</p> + +<p>Major Henry might have gone, himself, to get the credit and to show what +he could do; but he showed his sense by resigning in favor of Fitz.</p> + +<p>So now at the command Fitz took the rope from him and shook it out and +re-coiled it nicely. Then, carrying it, he sneaked through the trees, +and crossed the creek, farther up, wading to his ankles, and advanced +upon Sally.</p> + +<p>Sally divided her attention between him and us, and finally pricked her +ears at him alone. She knew what was being tried.</p> + +<p>Coming out into the open space Fitz advanced slower and slower, step by +step. He had his rope ready—the coil was on his stump, and the lash end +was in his teeth, and the noose trailed by his side, from his good hand. +We glanced from him and Sally to the lean-to, and back again, for the +campers were sleeping peacefully. If only they would not wake and spoil +matters.</p> + +<p>Sally held her head high, suspicious and interested. Fitz did not dare +to speak to her; he must trust that she would give him a chance at her +before she escaped into the trees where roping would be a great deal +harder.</p> + +<p>We watched. My heart beat so that it hurt. Having that burro meant a lot +to us, for those packs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> were heavy—and it was a point of honor, too, +that we recapture our own. Here was our chance.</p> + +<p>Fitz continued to trail his noose. He didn't swing it. Sally watched +him, and we watched them both. He was almost close enough, was Fitz, to +throw. A few steps more, and something would happen. But Sally concluded +not to wait. She tossed her head, and with a snort turned to trot away. +And suddenly Fitz, in a little run and a jerk, threw with all his might.</p> + +<p>Straight and swift the noose sailed out, opening into an "O," and +dragging the rope like a tail behind it. Fitz had grabbed the lash end +from between his teeth, and was running forward, to make the cast cover +more ground. It was a beautiful noose and well aimed. Before it landed +we saw that it was going to land right. Just as it fell Sally trotted +square into it, and it dropped over her head. She stopped short and +cringed, but she was too late. Fitz had sprung back and had hauled hard. +It drew tight about her neck, and she was caught. She knew it, and she +stood still, with an inquiring gaze around. She knew better than to run +on the rope and risk being thrown or choked. Hurrah! We would have +cheered—but we didn't dare. We only shook hands all round and grinned; +and in a minute came Fitz, leading her to us. She was meek enough, but +she didn't seem particularly glad to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> us. We patted Fitz on the back +and let him know that we appreciated him.</p> + +<p>He had only the one throw, but that had been enough. It was like Van's +last cartridge.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2><h3>MAJOR HENRY SAYS "OUCH"</h3> +</div> + +<p>The sun was just peeping above the Medicine Range that we had crossed, +when we led Sally away, back through the brush and around to strike the +trail beyond the lean-to camp. After we had gone about half a mile Major +Henry posted me as a rear-guard sentry, to watch the trail, and he and +the other Scouts continued on until it was safe to stop and pack the +burro.</p> + +<p>The two renegade recruits did not appear. Probably they were still +sleeping, with the blankets over their faces to keep out the light! In +about half an hour I was signaled to come on, and when I joined the +party Sally had been packed with the squaw hitch and now we could travel +light again. I tell you, it was a big relief to get those loads +transferred to Sally. Even the Red Foxes were glad to be rid of theirs.</p> + +<p>Things looked bright. We were over the range; we had this stroke of +luck, in running right upon Sally; the trail was fair; and the way +seemed open. It wouldn't be many hours now before the Red Fox<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> Scouts +could branch off for the railroad, and get aboard a train so as to make +Salt Lake in time to connect with their party for the grand trip, and we +Elks had three days yet in which to deliver the message to the Mayor of +Green Valley.</p> + +<p>For two or three hours we traveled as fast as we could, driving Sally +and stepping on her tracks so as to cover them. We felt so good over our +prospects—over being upon the open way and winning out at last—that we +struck up songs:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;"> +"Oh, the Elk is our Medicine;<br /> +He makes us very strong—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>for us; and:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;"> +"Oh, the Red fox is our Medicine—"<br /> +</p> + +<p>for the Red Fox Scouts. And we sang:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em;"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"It's honor Flag and Country dear,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">and hold them in the van;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's keep your lungs and conscience clean,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">your body spick and span;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's 'shoulders squared,' and 'be prepared,'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">and always 'play the man':</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hurrah! Hurrah! For we're the B. S. A.!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hurrah! Hurrah! We're ready, night and day!</span><br /> +You'll find us in the city street and on the open way!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!"</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span></p> + +<p>But at the beginning of the second verse Major Henry suddenly quit and +sat down upon a log, where the trail wound through some timber. "I've +got to stop a minute, boys," he gasped. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with +you."</p> + +<p>But of course we didn't. His face was white and wet, his lips were +pressed tight as he breathed hard through his nose, and he doubled +forward.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I seem to have a regular dickens of a stomach-ache," he grunted. +"Almost makes me sick."</p> + +<p>That was serious, when Major Henry gave in this way. We remembered that +back on the trail when we had sighted Sally he had spoken of a +"side-ache" and had sent Fitzpatrick to do the reconnoitering; but he +had not spoken of it again and here we had been traveling fast with +never a whimper from him. We had supposed that his side-ache was done. +Instead, it had been getting worse.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you'd better lie flat," suggested Red Fox Scout Ward. "Or try +lying on your side."</p> + +<p>"I'll be all right in a minute," insisted the major.</p> + +<p>"We can all move off the trail, and have breakfast," proposed Fitz. +"That will give him a chance to rest. We ought to have something to eat, +anyway."</p> + +<p>So we moved back from the trail, around a bend of the creek. The major +could scarcely walk, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> was so doubled over with cramps; Scout Ward and +I stayed by to help him. But there was not much that we could do, in +such a case. He leaned on us some, and that was all.</p> + +<p>He tried lying on his side, while we unpacked Sally; and then we got him +upon a blanket, with a roll for a pillow. Red Fox Scout Van Sant hustled +to the creek with a cup, and fixed up a dose.</p> + +<p>"Here," he said to the major, "swallow this."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Ginger. It ought to fix you out."</p> + +<p>So it ought. The major swallowed it—and it was so hot it made the tears +come into his eyes. In a moment he thought that he did feel better, and +we were glad. We went ahead with breakfast, but he didn't eat anything, +which was wise. A crampy stomach won't digest food and then you are +worse.</p> + +<p>We didn't hurry him, after breakfast. We knew that as soon as he could +travel, he would. But we found that his feeling better wasn't lasting. +Now that the burning of the ginger had worn off, he was as bad as ever. +We were mighty sorry for him, as he turned and twisted, trying to find +an easier position. A stomach-ache like that must have been is surely +hard to stand.</p> + +<p>Fitz got busy. Fitzpatrick is pretty good at doctoring. He wants to be a +doctor, some day. And the Red Fox Scouts knew considerable about +first-aids and simple Scouts' remedies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span></p> + +<p>"What kind of an ache is it, Tom?" queried Fitz. We were too bothered to +call him "Major." "Sharp? Or steady?"</p> + +<p>"It's a throbby ache. Keeps right at the job, though," grunted the +major.</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Here." And the major pointed to the pit of his stomach, below the +breast-bone. "It's a funny ache, too. I can't seem to strike any +position that it likes."</p> + +<p>"It isn't sour and burning, is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>"Uh uh. It's a green-apple ache, or as if I'd swallowed a corner of a +brick."</p> + +<p>We had to laugh. Still, that ache wasn't any laughing matter.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel sick?"</p> + +<p>"Just from the pain."</p> + +<p>"We all ate the same, and we didn't drink out of that tin can, so it +can't be poison, and it doesn't sound like just indigestion," mused Fitz +to us. "Maybe we ought to give him an emetic. Shall we, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I need any emetic. There's nothing there," groaned the +major. "Maybe I've caught cold. I guess the cramps will quit. Wish I had +a hot-water bag or a hot brick."</p> + +<p>"We'll heat water and lay a hot compress on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> That will help," spoke Red +Fox Scout Van Sant. "Ought to have thought of it before."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, boys," bade Fitz. "Lie still as long as you can, Tom, +while I feel you."</p> + +<p>He unbuttoned the major's shirt (the major had taken off his belt and +loosened his waist-band, already) and began to explore about with his +fingers.</p> + +<p>"The ache's up here," explained the major. "Up in the middle of my +stomach."</p> + +<p>"But is it sore anywhere else?" asked Fitz, pressing about. "Say ouch."</p> + +<p>The major said ouch.</p> + +<p>"Sore right under there?" queried Fitz.</p> + +<p>The major nodded.</p> + +<p>We noted where Fitz was pressing with his fingers—and suddenly it +flashed across me what he was finding out. The <i>ache</i> was in the pit of +the stomach, but the <i>sore spot</i> was lower and down toward the right +hip.</p> + +<p>Fitz experimented here and there, not pressing very hard; and he always +could make the major say ouch, for the one spot.</p> + +<p>"I believe he's got appendicitis," announced Fitz, gazing up at us.</p> + +<p>"It looks that way, sure," agreed Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "My brother +had appendicitis, and that's how they went to work on him."</p> + +<p>"My father had it, is how I knew about it," explained Fitz.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aw, thunder!" grunted the major. "It's just a stomach-ache." He hated +to be fussed with. "I'll get over it. A hot-water bag is all I need."</p> + +<p>"No, you don't," spoke Fitz, quickly—as Red Fox Scout Ward was stirring +the fire. "Hot water would be dangerous, and if it's appendicitis we +shan't take any risks. They use an ice-pack in appendicitis. We'll put +on cold water instead of hot, and I'm going to give him a good stiff +dose of Epsom salts. I'm afraid to give him anything else."</p> + +<p>That sounded like sense, except that the cold water instead of the hot +was something new. And it was queer that if the major's appendix was +what caused the trouble the ache should be off in the middle of his +stomach. But Fitz was certain that he was right, and so we went ahead. +The treatment wasn't the kind to do any harm, even if we were wrong in +the theory. The Epsom salts would clean out most disturbances, and help +reduce any inflammation. (<i>Note 64.</i>)</p> + +<p>The major was suffering badly. To help relieve him, we discussed which +was worse, tooth-ache or stomach-ache. The Red Foxes took the tooth-ache +side and we Elks the stomach-ache side; and we won, because the major +put in his grunts for the stomach-ache. We piled a wet pack of +handkerchiefs and gauze on his stomach, over the right lower angle, +where the appendix ought to be; and we changed it before it got warmed. +The water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> from the creek was icy cold. We kept at it, and after a while +the major was feeling much better.</p> + +<p>And now he began to chafe because he was delaying the march. It was +almost noon. The two renegade recruits had not come along yet. They +might not come at all; they might be looking around for Sally, without +sense enough to read the sign. But the major was anxious to be pushing +on again.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you ought to," objected Fitz.</p> + +<p>"But I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"You may not be, if you stir around much," said Red Fox Scout Ward.</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do? Lie here for the rest of my life?" The major +was cross.</p> + +<p>"No; but you ought to be carried some place where you can have a doctor, +if it's appendicitis."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it is. It's just a sort of colic. I'm all right now, if +we go slowly."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think that we'd better find some place where we can take +you?" asked Fitz.</p> + +<p>"You fellows leave me, then, and go on. Somebody will come along, or +I'll follow slow. Those Red Foxes must get to their train, and you two +Elks must carry the message through on time."</p> + +<p>"Not much!" exclaimed both the Red Foxes, indignant. "What kind of +Scouts do you think we are? You'll need more than two men, if there's +much carrying to be done. We stick."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span></p> + +<p>"So do we," chimed in Fitz and I. "We'll get the message through, and +get you through, too."</p> + +<p>The major flushed and stood up.</p> + +<p>"If that's the way you talk," he snapped (he was the black-eyed, quick +kind, you know), "then I order that this march be resumed. Pack the +burro. I order it."</p> + +<p>"You'd better ride."</p> + +<p>"I'll walk."</p> + +<p>Well, he was our leader. We should obey, as long as he seemed capable. +He was awfully stubborn, the major was, when he had his back up. But we +exchanged glances, and we must all have thought the same: that if he was +taken seriously again soon, and was laid out, we would try to persuade +him to let us manage for him. Fitz only said quietly:</p> + +<p>"But if you have to quit, you'll quit, won't you, Tom? You won't keep +going, just to spite yourself. Real appendicitis can't be fooled with."</p> + +<p>"I'll quit," he answered.</p> + +<p>We packed Sally again, and started on. The major seemed to want to hike +at the regulation fast Scouts' pace, but we held him in the best that we +could. Anyway, after we had gone three or four miles, he was beginning +to pant and double over; his pain had come back.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll have to rest a minute," he said; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> he sat down. "Go +ahead. I'll catch up. You'd better take the message, Fitz. Here."</p> + +<p>"No, sir," retorted Fitz. "If you think that we're going on and leave +you alone, sick, you're off your base. This is a serious matter, Tom. It +wouldn't be decent, and it wouldn't be Scout-like. The Red Foxes ought +to go—"</p> + +<p>"But we won't," they interrupted—</p> + +<p>"—and we'll get you to some place where you can be attended to. Then +we'll take the message, if you can't. There's plenty of time."</p> + +<p>The major flushed and fidgeted, and fingered the package.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I can ride, then," he offered. "We can cache more stuff and I'll +ride Sally." He grunted and twisted as the pain cut him. He looked +ghastly.</p> + +<p>"He ought to lie quiet till we can take him some place and find a +doctor," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant, emphatically. "There must be a +ranch or a town around here."</p> + +<p>"We'll ask this man coming," said Fitz.</p> + +<p>The stream had met another, here, and so had the trail; and down the +left-hand trail was riding at a little cow-pony trot a horseman. He was +a cow-puncher. He wore leather chaps and spurs and calico shirt and +flapping-brimmed drab slouch hat. When he reached us he reined in and +halted. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> was a middle-aged man, with freckles and sandy mustache.</p> + +<p>"Howdy?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Howdy?" we answered.</p> + +<p>"Ain't seen any Big W cattle, back along the trail, have you?"</p> + +<p>No, we hadn't—until suddenly I remembered.</p> + +<p>"We saw some about ten days ago, on the other side of the Divide."</p> + +<p>"Whereabouts?"</p> + +<p>"On a mesa, northwest across the ridge from Dixon Park."</p> + +<p>"Good eye," he grinned. "I heard some of our strays had got over into +that country, but I wasn't sure."</p> + +<p>We weren't here to talk cattle, though; and Fitz spoke up:</p> + +<p>"Where's the nearest ranch, or town?"</p> + +<p>"The nearest town is Shenandoah. That's on the railroad about eight +miles yonder. Follow the right-hand trail and you'll come out on a +wagon-road that takes you to it. But there's a ranch three miles up the +valley by this other trail. Sick man?" The cow-puncher had good eyes, +too.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We want a doctor."</p> + +<p>"Ain't any doctor at Shenandoah. That's nothing but a station and a +store and a couple of houses. I expect the nearest doctor is the one at +the mines."</p> + +<p>"Where's that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fifteen miles into the hills, from the ranch."</p> + +<p>"How far is Green Valley?" asked the major, weakly.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-three or four miles, by this trail I come along. Same trail you +take to the ranch. No doctor now at Green Valley, though. The one they +had went back East."</p> + +<p>"Then you let the Red Fox Scouts take me to the station and put me on +the train for somewhere, and they can catch their own train; and you two +fellows go ahead to Green Valley," proposed the major to Fitz.</p> + +<p>"Ain't another train either way till to-morrow morning," said the +cow-puncher. "They meet at Shenandoah, usually—when they ain't late. If +you need a doctor, quickest way would be to make the ranch and ride to +the mines and get him. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know, for sure. Appendicitis, we think."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't monkey with it," advised the cow-puncher.</p> + +<p>"Then the Red Foxes can hit for the railroad and Fitz and Jim and I'll +make the ranch," insisted the major.</p> + +<p>"We won't," spoke up Red Fox Scout Ward, flatly.</p> + +<p>"We'll go with you to the ranch. We'll see this thing through. The +railroad can wait."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," said the cow-puncher, "you can't miss it. So long, and good +luck."</p> + +<p>"So long," we answered. He rode on, and we looked at the major.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we ought to get you there as quick as we can," said Fitz, +slowly. "Do you want to ride, or try walking again, or shall we carry +you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm better now," declared our plucky corporal. He stood up. "I'll walk, +I guess. It isn't far."</p> + +<p>So we set out, cautiously. No, it wasn't far—but it seemed <i>mighty</i> +far. The major would walk a couple of hundred yards, and then he must +rest. The pain doubled him right over. We took some of the stuff off +Sally, and lifted him on top, but he couldn't stand that, either, very +long. We tried a chair of our hands, but that didn't suit.</p> + +<p>"I'll skip ahead and see if I can bring back a wagon, from the ranch," +volunteered Red Fox Scout Van Sant; and away he ran. "You wait," he +called back, over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>We waited, and kept a cold pack on the major.</p> + +<p>In about an hour and a half Van came panting back.</p> + +<p>"There isn't any wagon," he gasped. "Nobody at the ranch except two +women. Men folks have gone and taken the wagon with them."</p> + +<p>That was hard. We skirmished about, and made a litter out of one of our +blankets and two pieces of driftwood that we fished from the creek; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +carrying the major, with Sally following, we struck the best pace that +we could down the trail. He was heavy, and we must stop often to rest +ourselves and him; and we changed the cold packs.</p> + +<p>At evening we toiled at last into the ranch yard. It had not been three +miles: it had been a good long four miles.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2><h3>A FORTY-MILE RIDE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The ranch was only a small log shack, of two rooms, with corral and +sheds and hay-land around it; it wasn't much of a place, but we were +glad to get there. Smoke was rising from the stove-pipe chimney. As we +drew up, one of the women looked out of the kitchen door, and the other +stood in a shed with a milk-pail in her hand. The woman in the doorway +was the mother; the other was the daughter. They were regular ranch +women, hard workers and quick to be kind in an emergency. This was an +emergency, for Major Henry was about worn out.</p> + +<p>"Fetch him right in here," called the mother; and the daughter came +hurrying.</p> + +<p>We carried him into a sleeping room, and laid him upon the bed there. He +had been all grit, up till now; but he quit and let down and lay there +with eyes closed, panting.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" they asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"He's sick. We think it's appendicitis."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness!" they exclaimed. "What can we give him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing. Where can we get a doctor?"</p> + +<p>"The mines is the nearest place, if he's there. That's twenty miles."</p> + +<p>"But a man we met said it was fifteen."</p> + +<p>"You can't follow that trail. It's been washed out. You'll have to take +the other trail, around by the head of Cooper Creek."</p> + +<p>"Can we get a saddle-horse here?"</p> + +<p>"There are two in the corral; but I don't know as you can catch 'em. +They're used to being roped."</p> + +<p>"We'll rope them."</p> + +<p>The major groaned. He couldn't help it.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "We'll have the doctor in a +jiffy."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about me," gasped the major, without opening his eyes. "Go +on through."</p> + +<p>"You hush," we all retorted. "We'll do both: have you fixed up and get +through, too."</p> + +<p>The major fidgeted and complained weakly.</p> + +<p>"One of us had better be catching the horses, hadn't we?" suggested Red +Fox Scout Ward. "Van and I'll go for the doctor."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't," said I. "I'll go. Fitz ought to stay. I know trails +pretty well."</p> + +<p>"Then either Van or I'll go with you. Two would be better than one."</p> + +<p>"I'm going," declared Van Sant. "You stay here with Fitz, Hal."</p> + +<p>That was settled. We didn't delay to dispute<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> over the matter. There was +work and duty for all.</p> + +<p>"You be learning the trail, then," directed Fitz. "I'll be catching the +horses."</p> + +<p>"You'll find a rope on one of the saddles in the shed," called the +daughter.</p> + +<p>Fitz made for it; that was quicker than unpacking Sally and getting our +own rope. Scout Ward went along to help. We tried to ease the major.</p> + +<p>"You should have something to eat," exclaimed the women.</p> + +<p>We said "no"; but they bustled about, hurrying up their own supper, +which was under way when we arrived. While they bustled they fired +questions at us; who we were, and where we had come from, and where we +were going, and all.</p> + +<p>The major seemed kind of light-headed. He groaned and wriggled and +mumbled. The message was on his mind, and the Red Fox Scouts, and the +fear that neither would get through in time. He kept trying to pass the +message on to us; so finally I took it.</p> + +<p>"All right. I've got it, major," I told him. "We'll carry it on. We can +make Green Valley easy, from here. We'll start as soon as we can. +To-morrow's Sunday, anyway. You go to sleep."</p> + +<p>That half-satisfied him.</p> + +<p>We found that we couldn't eat much. We drank some milk, and stuffed down +some bread and butter;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> and by that time Fitz and Scout Ward had the +horses led out. We heard the hoofs, and in came Ward, to tell us.</p> + +<p>"Horses are ready," he announced.</p> + +<p>Out we went. No time was to be lost. They even had saddled them—Fitz +working with his one hand! So all we must do was to climb on. The women +had told us the trail, and they had given us an old heavy coat apiece. +Nights are cold, in the mountains.</p> + +<p>"You know how, do you?" queried Fitz of me.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"That gray horse is the easiest," called one of the women, from the +door.</p> + +<p>"Let Jim take it, then," spoke Van.</p> + +<p>But I had got ahead of him by grabbing the bay.</p> + +<p>"Jim is used to riding," explained Fitz.</p> + +<p>"So am I," answered Van.</p> + +<p>"Not these saddles, Van," put in Ward. "They're different. The stirrups +of the gray are longer, a little. They'll fit you better than they'll +fit Jim."</p> + +<p>Van had to keep the gray. It didn't matter to me which horse I rode, and +it might to him from the East; so I was glad if the gray was the easier.</p> + +<p>We were ready.</p> + +<p>"We'll take care of Tom till you bring the doctor," said Fitz.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll bring him."</p> + +<p>"So long. Be Scouts."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>A quick grip of the hand from Fitz and Ward, and we were off, out of the +light from the opened door where stood the two women, watching, and into +the dimness of the light. Now for a forty-mile night ride, over a +strange trail—twenty miles to the mines and twenty miles back. We would +do our part and we knew that Fitz and Ward would do theirs in keeping +the major safe.</p> + +<p>That appeared a long ride. Twenty miles is a big stretch, at night, and +when you are so anxious.</p> + +<p>We were to follow on the main trail for half a mile until we came to a +bridge. But before crossing the bridge there was a gate on the right, +and a hay road through a field. After we had crossed the field we would +pass out by another gate, and would take a trail that led up on top of +the mesa. Then it was nineteen miles across the mesa, to the mines. The +mines would have a light. They were running night and day.</p> + +<p>We did not say much, at first. We went at fast walk and little trots, so +as not to wind the horses in the very beginning. We didn't dash away, +headlong, as you sometimes read about, or see in pictures. I knew +better. Scouts must understand how to treat a horse, as well as how to +treat themselves, on the march.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span></p> + +<p>This was a dark night, because it was cloudy. There were no stars, and +the moon had not come up yet. So we must trust to the horses to keep the +trail. By looking close we could barely see it, in spots. Of course, the +darkness was not a deep black darkness. Except in a storm, the night of +the open always is thinnish, so you can see after your eyes are used to +it.</p> + +<p>I had the lead. Up on the mesa we struck into a trot. A lope is easier +to ride, but the trot is the natural gait of a horse, and he can keep up +a trot longer than he can a lope. Horses prefer trotting to galloping.</p> + +<p>Trot, trot, trot, we went.</p> + +<p>"How you coming?" I asked, to encourage Van.</p> + +<p>"All right," he grunted. "These stirrups are too long, though. I can't +get any purchase."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't your instep touch, when you stand up in them?"</p> + +<p>"If I straighten out my legs. I'm riding on my toes. That's the way I +was taught. I like to have my knees crooked so I can grip with them. +Don't you, yours?"</p> + +<p>"Just to change off to, as a rest. But cowboys and other people who ride +all day stick their feet through the stirrup to the heel, and ride on +their instep. A crooked leg gives a fellow a cramp in the knee, after a +while. Out here we ride straight up and down, so we are almost standing +in the stirrups<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> all the time. That's the cowboy way, and it's about the +cavalry way, too. Those men know."</p> + +<p>"How do you grip, then?"</p> + +<p>"With the thigh. Try it. But when you're trotting you'd better stand in +the stirrups and you can lean forward on the horn, for a rest."</p> + +<p>Van grunted. He was experimenting.</p> + +<p>"Should think it would make your back ache," he said.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"To ride with such long stirrups."</p> + +<p>"Uh uh," I answered. "Not when you sit up and balance in the saddle and +hold your spine straight. It always makes my back ache to hunch over. We +Elk Scouts try to ride with heel and shoulders in line. We can ride all +day."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted Van. "Let's lope."</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>So we did lope, a little way. Then we walked another little way, and +then I pushed into the same old trot. That was hard on Van, but it was +what would cover the ground and get us through quickest to the doctor. +So we must keep at it.</p> + +<p>Sometimes I stood in the stirrups and leaned on the horn; sometimes I +sat square and "took it."</p> + +<p>We crossed the mesa, and first thing we knew, we were tilting down into a +gulch. The horses picked their way slowly; we let them. We didn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> want +any tumbles or sprained legs. The bottom of the gulch held willows and +aspens and brush, and was dark, because shut in. We didn't trot. My old +horse just put his nose down close to the ground, and went along at an +amble, like a dog, smelling the trail. I let the lines hang and gave him +his head. Behind me followed Van and his gray. I could hear the gray +also sniffing. (<i>Note 65.</i>)</p> + +<p>"Will we get through?" called Van, anxiously. "Think we're still on the +trail?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," I answered.</p> + +<p>Just then my horse snorted, and raised his head and snorted more, and +stood stock-still, trembling. I could feel that his ears were pricked. +He acted as if he was seeing something, in the trail.</p> + +<p>"Gwan!" I said, digging him with my heels.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" called Van.</p> + +<p>His horse had stopped and was snorting.</p> + +<p>"Don't know."</p> + +<p>It was pitchy dark. I strained to see, but I couldn't. That is a creepy +thing, to have your horse act so, when you don't know why. Of course you +think bear and cougar. But we were not to be held up by any foolishness, +and I was not a bit afraid.</p> + +<p>"Gwan!" I ordered again.</p> + +<p>"Gwan!" repeated Van.</p> + +<p>I heard a crackling in the brush, and my horse proceeded, sidling and +snorting past the spot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> Van's gray followed, acting the same way. It +might have been a bear; we never knew.</p> + +<p>On we went, winding through the black timber again. We were on the +trail, all right; for by looking at the tree-tops against the sky we +could just see them and could see that they were always opening out, +ahead. The trail on the ground was kind of reproduced on the sky.</p> + +<p>It was a long way, through that dark gulch. But nothing hurt us and we +kept going.</p> + +<p>The gulch widened; we rode through a park, and the horses turned sharply +and began to climb a hill—zigzagging back and forth. We couldn't see a +trail, and I got off and felt with my hands.</p> + +<p>A trail was there.</p> + +<p>We came out on top. Here it was lighter. The moon had risen, and some +light leaked through the clouds.</p> + +<p>"Do you think we're on the right trail, still?" asked Van, dubiously. +"They didn't say anything about this other hill."</p> + +<p>That was so. But they hadn't said anything about there being two trails, +either. They had said that when we struck the trail over the mesa, to +follow it to the mines.</p> + +<p>"It must be the right trail," I said, back. "All we can do is to keep +following it."</p> + +<p>Seemed to me that we had gone the twenty miles already. But of course we +hadn't.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maybe we've branched off, on to another trail," persisted Van. "The +horses turned, you remember. Maybe we ought to go back and find out."</p> + +<p>"No, it's the right trail," I insisted, again. "There's only the one, +they said."</p> + +<p>We must stick to that thought. We had been told by persons who knew. If +once we began to fuss and not believe, and experiment, then we both +would get muddled and we might lose ourselves completely. I remembered +what old Jerry the prospector once had said: "When you're on a trail, +and you've been told that it goes somewhere, keep it till you get there. +Nobody can describe a trail by inches."</p> + +<p>We went on and on and on. It was down-hill and up-hill and across and +through; but we pegged along. Van was about discouraged; and it was a +horrible sensation, to suspect that after all we might have got upon a +wrong trail, and that we were not heading for the doctor but away from +him, while Fitz and Ward were doing their best to save Tom, thinking +that we would come back bringing the doctor.</p> + +<p>We didn't talk much. Van was dubious, and I was afraid to discuss with +him, or I might be discouraged, too. I put all my attention to making +time at fast walk and at trot, and in hoping. Jiminy, how I did hope. +Every minute or two I was thinking that I saw a light ahead—the light +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> the mines. But when it did appear, it appeared all of a sudden, +around a shoulder: a light, and several lights, clustered, in a hollow +before!</p> + +<p>"There it is, Van!" I cried; and I was so glad that I choked up.</p> + +<p>"Is that the mines?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Must be. Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>The sight changed everything. Now the night wasn't dark, the way hadn't +been so long after all, we weren't so tired, we had been silly to doubt +the trail; for we had arrived, and soon we would be talking with the +doctor.</p> + +<p>The trail wound and wound, and suddenly, again, it entered in among +sheds, and the dumps of mines. At the first light I stopped. The door +was partly open. It was the hoisting house of a mine, and the engineer +was looking out, to see who we were.</p> + +<p>"Is the doctor here?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Guess so. Want him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He has a room over the store. Somebody hurt? Where you from?"</p> + +<p>"Harden's ranch. Where is the store?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show you. Here." He led the way. "Somebody hurt over there?"</p> + +<p>"No. Sick."</p> + +<p>We halted beside a platform of a dim building, and the engineer pounded +on the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, doc!" he called.</p> + +<p>And when that doctor answered, through the window above, and we knew +that it was he, and that we had him at last, I wanted to laugh and +shout. But now we must get him back to the major.</p> + +<p>"You're needed," explained the man. "Couple of kids." And he said to us: +"Go ahead and tell him. I'm due at the mine." And off he trudged. We +thanked him.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble?" asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Appendicitis, we think. We're from the Harden ranch."</p> + +<p>"Great Scott!" we heard the doctor mutter. Then he said. "All right, +I'll be down." And we waited.</p> + +<p>He came out of a side door and around upon the porch. He was buttoning +his shirt.</p> + +<p>"Who's got it? Not one of <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No, another boy. He was sick on the trail and we took him to the ranch. +Then we rode over here."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think your friend has appendicitis?"</p> + +<p>We described how the major acted and what Fitz had found out by feeling, +and what we had done.</p> + +<p>"Sounds suspicious," said the doctor, shortly. "You did the right thing, +anyway. Do you want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> to go back with me? I'll start right over. Expect +you're pretty tired."</p> + +<p>"We'll go," we both exclaimed. We should say so! We wanted to be there, +on the spot.</p> + +<p>"I'll just get my case, and saddle-up." And he disappeared.</p> + +<p>He was a young doctor, smooth-faced; I guess he hadn't been out of +college very long; but he was prompt and ready. He came down in a moment +with a lantern, and put his case on the porch. He handed us a paper of +stuff.</p> + +<p>"There's some lump sugar," he said. "Eat it. I always carry some about +with me, on long rides. It's fine for keeping up the strength."</p> + +<p>He swung the lantern to get a look at us, then he went back toward the +stables, and saddled his horse. He was in the store a moment, too.</p> + +<p>"I've got some cheese," he announced, when he came out again. "Cheese +and sugar don't sound good as a mixture, but they'll see us through. We +must keep our nerve, you know. All aboard?"</p> + +<p>"All aboard," we answered.</p> + +<p>That was another long ride, back; but it did not seem so long as the +ride in, because we knew that we were on the right trail. The doctor +talked and asked us all about our trip as Scouts, and told experiences +that he had had on trips, himself; and we tried to meet him at least +halfway. But all the time I was wondering about the major, and whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +we would reach him in time, and whether he would get well, and what was +happening now, there. But there was no use in saying this, or in asking +the doctor a lot of questions. He would know and he would do his best, +and so would we all.</p> + +<p>Just at daylight we again entered the ranch yard. Fitz waved his one arm +from the ranch door. He came to meet us. His eyes were sticky and +swollen and his face pale and set, but he smiled just the same.</p> + +<p>"Here's the doctor," we reported. "How is he?"</p> + +<p>"Not so bad, as long as we keep the cold compress on. He's slept."</p> + +<p>"Good," said the doctor. "We'll fix him up now, all right."</p> + +<p>He swung off, with his case, and Fitz took him right in. Van and I sort +of tumbled off, and stumbled along after. Those forty miles at trot and +fast walk had put a crimp in our legs. But I tell you, we were thankful +that we had done it!</p> + +<p>And here was our second Sunday.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2><h3>THE LAST DASH</h3> +</div> + +<p>That young doctor was fine. He took things right into his own hands, and +Major Henry said all right. The major was weak but game. He was gamer +than any of us. Fitz and Red Fox Scout Ward had slept some by turns, and +the two women were ready to help, too; but the doctor gave Red Fox Scout +Van Sant and me the choice of going to sleep or going fishing.</p> + +<p>It was Sunday and we didn't need the fish. We didn't intend to go to +sleep; we just let them show us a place, in the bunk-house, and we lay +down, for a minute. For we were ready to help, as well as the rest of +them. A Scout must not be afraid of blood or wounds. We only lay down +with a blanket over us, instead of going fishing—and when I opened my +eyes again the sun was bright and Fitz and Ward were peeking in on us.</p> + +<p>They were pale, but they looked happy.</p> + +<p>Van and I tried to sit up.</p> + +<p>"Is it over with?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did he take it out? Was that what was the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Want to see it?"</p> + +<p>No, we didn't. I didn't, anyway.</p> + +<p>"How is he? Can we see him?"</p> + +<p>"The doctor says he'll be all right. Maybe you can see him. He's out +from under. It's one o'clock."</p> + +<p>One o'clock! Phew! We were regular deserters—but we hadn't intended to +be.</p> + +<p>We tumbled out, now, and hurried to wash and fix up, so that we would +look good to the major. Sick people are finicky. The daughter was in the +kitchen, but the mother and the doctor were eating. There was a funny +sweetish smell, still; smell of chloroform. It is a serious smell, too.</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled at us. "I ought to have taken yours out, while you +were asleep," he joked. "I've been thinking of it."</p> + +<p>"Is he all right?" we asked; Fitz and Ward behind us, ready to hear +again.</p> + +<p>"Bully, so far."</p> + +<p>"Indeed he is," added the mother.</p> + +<p>"Can we see him?"</p> + +<p>"You can stand on the threshold and say one word: 'Hello.'"</p> + +<p>We tiptoed through. The bed was clean and white, with a sheet outside +instead of the colored spread; and the major was in it. The Elks' flag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +was spread out, draped over the dresser, where he could see it. His eyes +opened at us. He didn't look so very terrible, and he tried to grin.</p> + +<p>"How?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said we; and we gave him the Scouts' sign.</p> + +<p>"Didn't even make me sick," he croaked. "But I can't get up. Don't you +fellows wait. You go ahead."</p> + +<p>"We will," we said, to soothe him. Then we gave him the Scouts' sign +again, and the silence sign, and the wolf sign (for bravery) (<i>Note +66</i>), and we drew back. The doctor had told us that we could say one +word, and we had been made to say three!</p> + +<p>We had seen that the major was alive and up and coming (not really up; +only going to be, you know); but this was another anxious day, I tell +you! Having an appendix cut out is no light matter, ever—and besides, +here was the fourteenth day on the trail! The major would not be able to +stir for a week and a half, maybe; yet Green Valley, our goal, was only +twenty-one miles away!</p> + +<p>"It's all a question of the nursing that he has now, boys," said the +doctor, in council with us. "I'm going to trust that to you Scouts; +these women have all they can do, anyway. We got the appendix out just +in time—but if it hadn't been for your first-aid treatment in the +beginning we might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> been too late. That old appendix was swollen +and ready to burst if given half a chance. His pure Scout's blood and +his Scout's vitality will pull him through O. K. That's what he gets, +from living right, following out Scouts' rules. But he must have +attention night and day according to hygiene. We don't want any microbes +monkeying with that wound I made."</p> + +<p>"No, you bet," we said.</p> + +<p>"I'll leave you complete directions and then I'm going back to the +mines; but I'll ride over again to-morrow morning. Can't you keep him +from fussing about that message?"</p> + +<p>"We'll try," we said.</p> + +<p>"If you can't, then one of you can jump on a horse and take it over, so +as to satisfy him. You can make the round trip in five hours."</p> + +<p>Well, we were pledged not to do <i>that</i>; horse or other help was +forbidden. But we did not say so. What was the use? And it didn't seem +now as though either Fitz or I could stand it to leave the major even +for five hours. The Red Fox Scouts of course must skip on, to the +railroad, or they'd miss their big Yellowstone trip, and we two Elks +would be on night and day duty, with the major. The doctor said that he +would be out of danger in five days. By that time the message would be +long overdue. It was too bad. We had tried so hard.</p> + +<p>The doctor left us written directions, until he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span> should come back; and +he rode off for the mines.</p> + +<p>Fitz and I took over the nursing, and let the two women go on about +their ranch work. They were mighty nice to us, and we didn't mean to +bother them any more than was absolutely necessary. The two Red Foxes +stayed a while longer. They said that they would light out early in the +morning, if the major had a good night, in time to catch the train all +right. But they didn't; we might have smelled a mouse, if we hadn't been +so anxious about the major. They were good as gold, those two Red Foxes.</p> + +<p>You see, the major kept fussing. He was worried over the failure of the +message. He had it on his mind all the time. To-morrow was the fifteenth +day—and here we were, laid up because of him. We told him no matter; we +all had done our Scouts' best, and no fellows could have done more. But +we would stick by him. That was our Scouts' duty, now.</p> + +<p>He kept fussing. When we took his temperature, as the doctor had +ordered, it had gone up two degrees. That was bad. We could not find any +other special symptoms. His cut didn't hurt him, and he had not a thing +to complain of—except that we wouldn't carry the message through in +time.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to do it," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant to Fitz and me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span></p> + +<p>"But we can't."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>That was a silly question for a Scout to ask.</p> + +<p>"We can't leave Tom."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can. Hal and I are here."</p> + +<p>"You've got to make that train, right away."</p> + +<p>"No, we haven't."</p> + +<p>"But you'll miss the Yellowstone trip!"</p> + +<p>"We can take it later."</p> + +<p>"No, sir! That won't do. The major and we, and the general, too, if he +knew, won't have it that way at all. You fellows have been true Scouts. +Now you go ahead."</p> + +<p>Scout Van flushed and fidgeted.</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell the truth," he blurted, "I guess we've missed connections +a little anyway. But we don't care. We sent a telegram in this afternoon +by the doctor to our crowd, telling them to go ahead themselves and not +to expect us until we cut their trail. The doctor will telephone it to +the operator."</p> + +<p>We gasped.</p> + +<p>"You see," continued Van, "we two Red Foxes can take care of the major +while you're gone, like a brick. We're first-aid nurses, and the doctor +has told us what to do; and he's coming back to-morrow and the next day +you'll be back, maybe. He said that if the major fussed you'd better do +what's wanted."</p> + +<p>"But look here—!" began Fitz. "The major'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> feel worse if he knows +you're missing your trip than if the message is delayed a day or two."</p> + +<p>"No, he won't," argued Van. "We'll explain to him. We won't miss our +trip. We'll catch the crowd somewhere. Besides, that's only pleasure. +This other is business. You're on the trail, in real Scouts' service, to +show what Scouts can do, so we want to help."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that they were showing what Scouts can do, too! They +were splendid, those Red Foxes.</p> + +<p>"The major'll just fuss and fret, you know," finished Van. "That's what +has sent his temperature up, already."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Fitz, slowly, "we'll see. We Elks appreciate how you other +Scouts have stuck and helped. Don't we, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"We sure do," I agreed. "But we don't want to ride a free horse to +death."</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" laughed Van. "We're all Scouts. That's enough."</p> + +<p>Red Fox Scout Ward beckoned to us.</p> + +<p>"The major wants you," he said.</p> + +<p>We went in. The major did not look good to me. His cheeks were getting +flushed and his eyes were large and rabbity.</p> + +<p>"I can't quiet him," claimed Ward, low, as we entered.</p> + +<p>"Do you know this is the fourteenth day?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> piped the major. "I've been +counting up and it is. I'm sure it is."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "You let us do the counting. +All you need do is get well."</p> + +<p>"But we have to put that message through, don't we?" answered the major. +"Just because I'm laid up is no reason why the rest of you must be laid +up, too. Darn it! Can't you do something?"</p> + +<p>He was excited. That was bad.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," proceeded the major. "The general was hurt, and +dropped out, but we others went on. Then little Jed Smith was hurt, and +he and Kit Carson dropped out, but we others went on. And now I'm hurt, +and I've dropped out, and none of you others will go on. That seems +mighty mean. I don't see why you're trying to make me responsible. +Everybody'll blame me."</p> + +<p>"Of course they won't," I said.</p> + +<p>He was wriggling his feet and moving his arms, and he was almost crying.</p> + +<p>"Would you get well quick if we leave you and take the message through, +Tom?" asked Fitz, suddenly.</p> + +<p>The major quit wriggling, and his face shone.</p> + +<p>"Would I? I'd beat the record. I'd sleep all I'm told to, and eat soup, +and never peep. Will you, Fitz? Sure?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning. You lie quiet, and quit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> fussing, and sleep, and be +a model patient in the hospital, and then to-morrow morning early we'll +hike."</p> + +<p>"Both of you?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"One isn't enough, in case you meet trouble. It's two on the trail, for +us Scouts."</p> + +<p>"I know it."</p> + +<p>"And you'll take the flag? I want the Elks flag to go."</p> + +<p>"We will," we said.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning, then," and the major smiled a peaceful, happy little +smile. "Bueno. Now I'll go to sleep. You needn't give me any dope. I'll +see you off in the morning." And he sort of settled and closed his eyes. +"When are you Red Foxes off?" he asked drowsily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we've arranged to be around here a day yet," drawled Van Sant. "You +can't get rid of us. We want to hear that the message went through. Then +we'll skip. We ought to rest one day in seven. And there's a two-pound +trout in a hole here, Mrs. Harden says, and Hal thinks he can catch him +to-morrow before I do."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't miss that trip," murmured the major. And when we tiptoed +out, leaving Fitz on guard, he was asleep already!</p> + +<p>So it seemed that we had done the best thing.</p> + +<p>Red Foxes Ward and Van Sant divided the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> night watch between them so +that we Elks should be fresh for the day's march. We were up early, and +got our own breakfast, so as not to bother the two women; but the report +came out from the major's room that he had had a bully night, and that +now he was awake and was bound to see us. So we went in.</p> + +<p>He had the Elks flag in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Who's got that message?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I had, you know.</p> + +<p>He passed the flag to Fitz.</p> + +<p>"You take this, then. You're sure going, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"All right. You can make it. Don't you worry about me. I'm fine. Be +Scouts. It's the last leg."</p> + +<p>"You be a Scout, too. If we're to be Scouts, on the march, you ought to +be a Scout, in the hospital."</p> + +<p>"I will." He knew what we meant. "But I wish I could go."</p> + +<p>"So do we."</p> + +<p>"All ready?"</p> + +<p>"All ready."</p> + +<p>He shook our hands.</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>We gave him the Scouts' salute, and out we went.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> We shook hands with +the Red Foxes; they saluted us, and we saluted them. We crossed the yard +for the trail; and when we looked back, the two women waved at us. We +waved back. And now we were carrying the message again, with only +twenty-one miles to go.</p> + +<p>The trail was up grade, following beside the creek, and we knew that we +must allow at least eight hours for those twenty-one miles. It was not +to be a nice day, either. Mists were floating around among the hills, +which was a pretty certain sign of rain.</p> + +<p>We hiked on. I had the message, hanging inside my shirt. It felt good. I +suspected that Fitz ought to be the one to carry it; he was my superior. +But he didn't ask for it, and I tried to believe that my carrying it +made no difference to him. I was thinking about offering it to him, but +I didn't. He had his camera, and the flag wrapped about his waist like a +sash. We'd left Sally and our other stuff at the ranch, and were +traveling light for this last spurt.</p> + +<p>It was a wagon trail right down the valley, and we could travel fast. +The sun grew hotter, and a hole in my boot-sole began to raise a blister +on my foot. Those fourteen days of steady trailing had been hard on +leather, and on clothes, too.</p> + +<p>We passed several ranches. Along in the middle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> of the morning thunder +began to growl in the hills, and we knew that we were liable to be wet.</p> + +<p>The valley grew narrower, as if it was to pinch out, and the thunder +grew louder. The storm was rising black over the hills ahead of us.</p> + +<p>"That's going to be a big one," said Fitz.</p> + +<p>It looked so. The clouds were the rolling, tumbling kind, where drab and +black are mixed. And they came fast, to eat the sun.</p> + +<p>It was raining hard on the hills ahead. We could see the lightning every +second, awful zigzags and splits and bursting bombs, and the thunder was +one long bellow.</p> + +<p>The valley pinched to not much more than a gulch, with aspens and pines +and willows, and now and then little grassy places, and the stream +rippling down through the middle. Half the sky was gone, now, and the +sun was swallowed, and it was time that Fitz and I found cover. We did +not hunt a tree; not much! Trees are lightning attracters, and they +leak, besides. But we saw where a ledge of shelf-rock cropped out, +making a little cave.</p> + +<p>"We'd better get in here and cache till the worst is over," proposed +Fitz. "We'll eat our lunch while we're waiting."</p> + +<p>That sounded like sense. So we snuggled under. We could just sit up, +with our feet inside the edge.</p> + +<p>"Boom-oom-oom!" roared the thunder, shaking the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span></p> + +<p>"Boom-oom-oom! Oom! Oom! Boom!"</p> + +<p>We could feel a chill, the breeze stopped, as if scared, drops began to +patter, a few, and then more, faster and faster, hard and swift as hail, +the world got dark, and suddenly with roar and slash down she came, +while we were eating our first sandwich put up by the two women.</p> + +<p>That was the worst rain that Fitz or I had ever seen. Between mouthfuls +we watched. The drops were big and they fell like a spurt from a hose, +until all the outside world was just one sheet of water. The streaks +drummed with the rumble of a hundred wagons. We couldn't see ten feet. +Before we had eaten our second sandwiches, the water was trickling +through cracks in the shelf-rock roof, and dirt was washing away from +the sides of our cave. Outside, the land was a stretch of yellow, liquid +adobe, worked upon by the fierce pour.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to get out of this," shouted Fitz in my ear. "This roof may +cave in on us."</p> + +<p>And out he plunged; I followed. We were soaked through in an instant, +and I could feel the water running down my skin. We could scarcely see +where to go or what to do; but we had bolted just in time. One end of +the shelf-rock washed out like soap, and in crumpled the roof, as a mass +of shale and mud! Up the gulch sounded a roaring—another, different +roaring from the roaring of the rain and thunder. Fitz grabbed my hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span></p> + +<p>"Run!" he shouted. "Quick! Get across!"</p> + +<p>This was no time for questions, of course. I knew that he spoke in +earnest, and had some good reason. Hand in hand we raced, sliding and +slipping, for the creek. It had changed a heap in five minutes. It was +all a thick yellow, and was swirling and yeasty. Fitz waded right in, in +a big hurry to get on the other side. He let go of my hand, but I +followed close. The current bit at my knees, and we stumbled on the +hidden rocks. Out Fitz staggered, and up the opposite slope, through +sage and bushes. The roaring was right behind us. It was terrible. We +were about all in, and Fitz stopped, panting.</p> + +<p>"See that?" he gasped, pointing back.</p> + +<p>A wave of yellow muck ten feet high was charging down the gulch like a +squadron of cavalry in solid formation. Logs and tree-branches were +sticking out of it, and great rocks were tossing and floating. Another +second, and it had passed, and where we had come from—trail and +shelf-rock and creek—was nothing but the muddy water and driftwood +tearing past, with the pines and aspens and willows trembling amidst it. +But it couldn't reach us.</p> + +<p>"Cloud-burst," called Fitz, in my ear.</p> + +<p>I nodded. He was white. I felt white, too. That had been a narrow +escape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span></p> + +<p>"We could have climbed that other side, couldn't we?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"We were on the wrong side of the creek, though. We might have been cut +off from where we're going. That's what I thought of. See?"</p> + +<p>Wise old Fitz. That was Scouty, to do the best thing no matter how quick +you must act. Of course, with the creek between us and Green Valley, and +the bridges washed out and the water up, we might have been held back +for half a day!</p> + +<p>The yellow flood boiled below, but the rain was quitting, and we might +as well move on, anyway.</p> + +<p>According to what we had been told of the trail, up at the head of the +gulch it turned off, and crossed the creek on a high bridge, and made +through the hills northwest for the town. Now we must shortcut to strike +it over in that direction.</p> + +<p>The rain was quitting; the sun was going to shine. That was a hard +climb, through the wet and the stickiness and the slipperiness, with our +clothes weighting us and clinging to us and making us hotter. But up we +pushed, puffing. Then we followed the ridge a little way, until we had +to go down. Next we must go up again, for another ridge.</p> + +<p>Fitz plugged along; so did I. The sun came out and the ground steamed, +and our clothes gradually dried, as the brush and trees dried; but +somehow I didn't feel extra good. My head thumped, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> things looked +queer. It didn't result in anything serious, after the hike was over, so +I guess that maybe I was hungry and excited. The rain had soaked our +lunch as well as us and we threw it away in gobs; we counted on supper +in Green Valley.</p> + +<p>We didn't stop. Fitz was going strong. He was steel. And if I could hold +out I mustn't say a word. So it was up-hill and down-hill, across +country through brush and scattered timber, expecting any time to hit +the trail or come in sight of the town. And how my head did thump!</p> + +<p>Finally in a draw we struck a cow-path, and we stuck to this, because it +looked as if it was going somewhere. Other cow-paths joined it, and it +got larger and larger and more hopeful; and about five o'clock by the +sun we stepped into a main traveled road. Hurrah! This was the trail for +us.</p> + +<p>The rain had not spread this far, and the road was dusty. A signboard +said, pointing: "Brown's Big Store, Green Valley's Leader, One Mile." We +were drawing near! I tried not to limp, and not to notice my head, as we +spurted to a fast walk, straight-foot and quick, so that we would enter +triumphantly. As like as not people would be looking out for us, as this +was the last day; and we would show them Scouts' spirit. We Elks had +fought treachery and fire and flood, and we had left four good men along +the way; those had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> a strenuous fifteen days, but we were winning +through at last.</p> + +<p>That last mile seemed to me longer than any twenty. The dust and gravel +were hot, the sun flamed, my blister felt like a cushion full of +needles, my legs were heavy and numb, that old head thumped like a drum, +and I had a notion that if I slackened or lost my stride I'd never +finish out that mile. So when Fitz stumbled on a piece of rock, and his +strap snapped and he stopped to pick up his camera, I kept moving. He +would catch me.</p> + +<p>A shoulder of rock stuck out and the road curved around it; and when I +had curved around it, too, then I saw something that sent my heart into +my throat, and brought me up short. With two leaps I was back, around +the rock again, in time to sign Fitz, coming: "Halt! Silence!" And I +motioned him close behind the shoulder.</p> + +<p>Beyond the rock the road stretched straight and clear, with the town +only a quarter of a mile. But only about a hundred yards away, where the +creek flowed close to the road, were two fellows, fishing. One was Bill +Duane!</p> + +<p>Fitz obeyed my signs. He gazed at me, startled and anxious.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked, pantomime.</p> + +<p>I held up two fingers, for two enemies. Then I cautiously peeked out. +Bill Duane was leaving the water, as if he was coming; and the other +fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> was coming. The other fellow was Mike Delavan. They must have +seen me before I had jumped back. We might have circuited them, but now +it was too late. I never could stand a chase over the hills, and maybe +Fitz couldn't.</p> + +<p>But there was a way, and a chance, and I made up my mind in a twinkling. +I jerked out the message and held it at Fitz. He shook his head. I +signed what we would do—what I would do and what he must do. He shook +his head. He wouldn't. We would stick together. I clinched my teeth and +waved my fist under his nose, and signed that he <i>must</i>. He was the one.</p> + +<p>Then I thrust the message into his hand, and out I sprang. Around the +shoulder of rock Bill and Mike were sneaking, to see what had become of +me. They were only about fifty yards, now, and I made for them as if to +dodge them. They let out a yell and closed in, and up the hill at one +side I pegged. They pegged to head me.</p> + +<p>My legs worked badly. I didn't mind breaking the blister (I felt the +warm stuff ooze out, and the sting that followed); but those heavy legs! +As a Scout I ought to have skipped up the hill as springy and +long-winded as a goat; but instead I had to shove myself. But up I went, +nip and tuck—and my head thumped when my heart did, about a thousand +times a minute. Every step I took hurt from hair to sole. But I didn't +care, if I only could go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> far enough. Bill and Mike climbed after, on +the oblique so as to cut me off before I could reach the top of the +ridge and the level there.</p> + +<p>Straight up I went, drawing them on; and halfway my throat was too dry +and my legs were too heavy and my head jarred my eyes too much, and I +wobbled and fell down. On came the two enemy; but I didn't care. I +looked past them and saw Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand pelting down the road. +He had cached his camera, but he had the flag and the message, his one +arm was working like a driving-rod, he was running true, the trail lay +straight and waiting, with the goal open, and I knew that he would make +it!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX_SCOUT_NOTES" id="APPENDIX_SCOUT_NOTES"></a>APPENDIX: SCOUT NOTES</h2> + +<div style="font-size:90%;"> +<p class="center">CHAPTER I</p> + +<p>Note 1, page 3: Many old-time "scouts" of Western plains and mountains +did not amount to much. They led a useless life, hunting and fighting +for personal gain, and gave little thought to preserving game, making +permanent trails, or otherwise benefiting people who would follow. Their +knowledge and experience was of the selfish or of the unreliable kind. +They cared for nobody but themselves, and for nothing but their wild +haunts. However, these trapper-explorers whose names the Elk Patrol took +were of value to the world at large and deserve to be remembered.</p> + +<p>General William H. Ashley lived in old St. Louis, and became a +fur-trader and fur-hunter in 1822. By his great enterprise he encouraged +other Americans to penetrate the Western country. He led numerous +expeditions across the wild plains and the wild Rockies, and his parties +were great training-schools for young trapper-scouts. He it was who +fairly broke the famous Oregon and California emigrant trail across the +Rocky Mountains by hauling a six-pounder cannon, on wheels, to his fort +in Utah; his men were the first to explore the Great Salt Lake; he was +the first brigadier-general of the Missouri State militia, and after his +fur days he went to Congress.</p> + +<p>Major Andrew Henry was General Ashley's partner in fur. But before +joining with Ashley, in 1810 he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> built, in Idaho, the first American +trading post or fort west of the mountains.</p> + +<p>Kit Carson was a real "boy scout," for he took the scout trail in 1826, +when he was only sixteen. Because of his modesty, his bravery, his +shrewdness, and his kindliness, his help to army and other Government +expeditions, and his advice in Indian matters, he is the best-known of +all Western frontiersmen.</p> + +<p>Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand was an Ashley trapper, and was a captain +of trappers. He afterwards served as a valuable guide for emigrants and +the Government, and was a Government agent over Indians. He was called +by the Indians "Bad Hand," because one hand had been crippled through a +rifle explosion. He was called "White Head," too, because in a terrible +chase by Indians his hair turned white.</p> + +<p>Jedediah S. Smith is known as the Knight in Buckskin. He also was an +Ashley scout or trapper, and he was the first American trapper to lead a +party across to California. Jedediah Smith was a true Christian, and +during all his wanderings the Bible was his best companion.</p> + +<p>Jim Bridger was another Ashley scout. He became a scout when he was +nineteen, before Kit Carson, and is almost as well known as Kit Carson. +He was the Ashley man who discovered the Great Salt Lake, in 1825; he +was the first to tell about the Yellowstone Park; and it was by his +trail that the Union Pacific Railroad found its way over the Rocky +Mountains.</p> + +<p>Note 2, page 4: Boy Scouts know that "taking a message to Garcia" means +"there and back and no breath wasted." When the war with Spain broke +out, in 1898, Captain Andrew Summers Rowan, of the United States Army, +was directed by the President to convey a message from the Government to +General Garcia of the Cuban<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> Army. Nobody seemed to know the exact +whereabouts of General Garcia, who was concealed in the depths of the +island. But Captain Rowan did not wait to ask "when" or "how." Not he. +He pocketed the message, he made for Cuba, he plunged into the jungle, +he found General Garcia, and he brought back the desired report. That +was genuine Scouts' work, without frills or foolishness.</p> + +<p>Note 3, page 5: Two pairs of thin socks are better for the feet than one +pair of thick socks. They rub on each other, and this saves the skin +from rubbing on the inside of the boot. Soldiers sometimes soap the +heels and soles of their stockings, on the inside.</p> + +<p>Note 4, page 6: The "tarp" or tarpaulin, or cowboy bed-sheet, is a strip +of sixteen- or eighteen-ounce canvas duck six to eight feet wide and ten +to twenty feet long. Fifteen feet is long for Boy Scouts. But it should +be plenty wide enough to tuck in well and not draw open when <i>humped</i> by +the body, and plenty long enough to cover, with room for the feet, and +plenty heavy enough to shed wind and water. It is used on the outside, +under and over; and in between, in his blankets, the Scout is snug. The +tarp is simple and cheap and is easily accommodated to circumstances. If +a few brass eyes are run along the edges, and in the corners, then it +can be stretched for a shelter-tent, too. It is much used on the plains +and in the mountains.</p> + +<p>Note 5, page 6: The diamond hitch is the favorite tie by which packs and +other loads are fastened upon burros and horses. It has been used from +very early days in the West, and is called the "diamond" hitch because +when taut the rope forms a diamond on top of the pack. There are several +styles of the diamond hitch, but they all are classified as the single +or the double diamond. Some require only one person to tie them; some +require two persons.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> They bind the load very flat, they may be loosened +or tightened quickly from the free end of the lash rope, and they do not +stick or jam. Nobody has time to fuss with hard knots, when the pack +must come off in a hurry.</p> + +<p>The simplest form of the diamond hitch is tied as shown here. Scouts may +practice it with a cushion laid upon a porch rail, a cord for a lash +rope, a strip of cloth for the band or cincha, and a bent nail for the +cincha hook.</p> + +<p>The Elk Scouts had under their top-packs a "sawbuck" pack-saddle, which +is a pair of wooden X's; and to the horns of the X's they hung on each +side a canvas case or pannier, in which were stowed cooking utensils, +etc. The blankets, etc., were folded and laid on top, with the +tarpaulins covering, and the whole was then "laired up" (which is the +army and packing term for tucking and squaring and making all +shipshape), so that it would ride securely. The panniers must balance +each other, even if rocks have to be put in on one side to even up; or +else the burro's back will be made sore. Top-packs must not ride wobbly +or aslant.</p> + +<p>A splendid little book for Boy Scouts is the pamphlet "Pack +Transportation," issued by the Quartermaster's Department of the United +States Army, and for sale at a small price by the Government Printing +Office, Washington. It tells about all the pack hitches, with pictures, +and how to care for the animals on the march. This latter is very +important.</p> + +<p>Before Number 3 is formed, the cinch or cincha (the belly-band) must be +drawn very tight, so that the double-twist which makes the loop in +Number 3 will stick. But the rope and cincha are apt to slip and loosen, +unless the Scout takes a jam-hitch or Blackwall hitch around the hook of +the cincha. The rope should be kept taut throughout; and at the last +should be heaved tauter still, so that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span> the diamond bites into the pack +well; and the end of the rope should be doubled back and tucked under so +that it will not drag, and yet can be easily got at.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-007" id="illus-007"></a> +<img src="images/illus-281.png" alt="THE SIMPLEST SINGLE DIAMOND" title="" width="300" height="252" /><br /> +<span class="caption">THE SIMPLEST SINGLE DIAMOND</span> +</div> + +<p>The lash rope, or pack-rope, in the Army is one-half inch in size and is +fifty feet long; but a forty-foot rope is plenty long enough for Scouts. +A lair rope also is useful in packing. This is a three-eighths inch +rope, twenty-five or thirty feet long, by which the packs may first be +laired or tied up securely so that nothing shall shake out.</p> + +<p>A pack for a burro may weigh from 200 to 250 pounds; but on a long, +rough trip 150 pounds is better. A pack is harder on a mule or a horse +than a rider is, because it never lets up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span></p> + +<p>Note 6, page 6: The Indian bow was only two and one-half to four feet +long, so that it could be carried easily when stalking or when on +horseback. The Sioux bow, four feet long, was an inch and a half wide at +the middle and an inch thick, and tapered to half an inch thick and half +an inch wide, at the ends. The Indian bow was made of wood, and of +mountain-goat horns, or of solid bones, glued together. The wooden bow +frequently was strengthened by having hide or sinew glued along the +back. Until they learned the knack of it, few white men could bend an +Indian bow.</p> + +<p>The arrows were of different lengths, but each warrior used the one +length, if he could, so that he would shoot alike, every time. Each +warrior knew his own arrows, by a private mark—by length or by pattern +of stem or of feathers. Some tribes used two feathers, some three. +Scouts can mark their arrows, in the same way.</p> + +<p>The bow and arrow are good Scout weapons. They give no noise. They do +not frighten animals or warn the enemy. They are not expensive. They can +be made on the spot. And it takes Scoutcraft to make them and to use +them successfully. As long as the Indians had only bows and arrows, +there was plenty of game for all.</p> + +<p>Note 7, page 6: The lariat rope, or simply "rope," in the West, is +thirty-five or forty feet long. Usually it is five-eighths, four-ply +manilla, but the best are of braided rawhide. Those bought at stores +have a metal knot or honda through which the slipnoose runs; but cowboys +and Boy Scouts do not need this. They tie their own honda, which should +be a small fixed loop with space enough for the rope to pass freely. The +inside of the loop, against which the rope slips back and forth, may be +wrapped with leather. In throwing the rope, the noose or slipknot should +be opened to four or five feet in diameter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> and the free part of the +rope outside the noose should be grasped together with the noose for +about one third along the noose from the honda knot. The remainder of +the rope is held in a coil in the other hand, ready to release when the +noose is cast. The noose (with the part of the free rope) is whirled in +thumb and fingers around the head, until it has a good start; and then +it is jerked straight forward by the wrist and forearm. As it sails, the +honda knot swings to the front and acts as a weight to open the noose +wide. That is why part of the rope is taken up, with the noose, and the +noose is grasped one third along from the knot itself.</p> + +<p>The rope, or lariat, or lasso, is a handy implement for the Scout. The +Western Indians and the old-time scouts or trappers used it a great +deal, for catching animals and even enemies; and when the United States +fought with Mexico, in 1846, some of the Mexican cavalry were armed with +lassos.</p> + +<p>Note 8, page 7: Anybody on the march always feels better and can travel +better when he keeps himself as clean and as neat as possible. Each pair +of Scouts in a Patrol should share a war-bag, which is a canvas sack +about four feet long, with a round bottom and with a top puckered by a +rope. This war-bag is for personal stuff, so that there is no need to +paw around in the general baggage, and no chance of losing things.</p> + +<p>Note 9, page 7: Coffee is popular, but tea is better, in the long run, +and Scouts should not neglect it on the trail. It is lighter than +coffee, is more quickly made, and is a food, a strength-giver, and a +thirst-quencher in one. All explorers favor it.</p> + +<p>Note 10, page 7: Scout Troops would do well to have an official +physician who will make out a list of remedies to be used in camp or on +the march. When Scouts know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> how to clean out the stomach and the +intestines and how to reduce fever and to subdue chills, and what to +give in case of poisoning, then they can prevent many illnesses and +perhaps save life. The remedies should be in shape to be easily carried, +and should be simple to handle.</p> + +<p>Note 11, page 7: The Indian walk and the old scout walk was the +straight-foot walk, because it covers the ground with the least +resistance. When the foot is turned so that it is pushed sideways, there +is waste motion. The toes should push backward, not quartering, to get +the most out of the leg muscles. George Catlin, the famous Indian +painter, who lived among the Indians of the West before any of us were +born, says that he could not walk in moccasins until he walked +straight-foot. The Indians turned their toes in a little.</p> + +<p>Note 12, page 10: All the Indian tribes of the Western plains and +mountains, and most of the old-time scouts, knew sign language. This was +a language by means of motions of the hands, helped by the body and +face; so that persons could sit and talk together for hours and not +utter a word! In time of danger, when silence is desired, Scouts of +to-day will find the sign language valuable; and by it the Scout of one +country can talk with the Scout of a foreign country.</p> + +<p>A book on the "Indian Sign Language" was written in 1884 by Captain W. +P. Clark of the United States Army, and it gives all the signs for +things from A to Z.</p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick's sign for "Watch!" was to bring his right hand with back +up, in front of lower part of the face, the first two fingers extended +and separated a little and pointing down the trail. The thumb and other +fingers are closed. The tips of the two fingers represent the two eyes +looking! When he meant "Listen!" he put his hand, palm front, to his +ear, with thumb and first finger open, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> that the ear set in the angle +of them; and he wriggled his hands slowly.</p> + +<p>Jim Bridger's sign for "Horseback!" was two fingers of one hand placed +astride the edge of the other hand, and the sign for "Wolf!" is the hand +(or both hands) with palm to the front, before the shoulder, and the +first two fingers pricked up, separated like two ears. Then the hand was +moved forward and upward, just a little, like a wolf reconnoitering over +a crest.</p> + +<p>Occasionally the sign for something was not precisely the same among all +the Indian tribes. The Pawnee sign for "wolf" was the first finger of +each hand stuck up alongside the head, like ears pricking. But it was a +sign easily read. All the signs were sensible and initiative. When the +"future" was meant, the finger was thrust ahead with a screwing motion, +as if boring; when the "past" was meant, the hand and finger were +extended in front and drawn back with the screwing motion. When he was +full of food the Indian drew his thumb and finger along his body from +his stomach to his throat. When he was hungry he drew the edge of his +hand back and forth across his stomach, as sign that he was being cut in +two. The sign "talk" is to draw the words out of the mouth with thumb +and finger; while to "stop talking" is the same motion half made and +then slashed by the edge of the same hand being brought down through it. +This means "All right," "That's enough," "I understand," and also "Cut +it out!" "Chop it off!"</p> + +<p>Years were reckoned as winters, and "winter" is signed by the two +clenched hands shivering in front of the body. Days were "sleeps," and +"sleep" is signed by inclining the head sideways, to rest upon the palm +of the hand. "Man" is the first finger thrust upright, before, because +man walks erect. The "question" sign is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> right hand bent up, before, +at the wrist, fingers apart, and turned from side to side. To ask "How +old are you?" the Indian would sign: "You," "winter," "number," "what?"</p> + +<p>So Scouts will not find it hard to pick up the sign language; the +motions represent the thing itself. When a sign requires several +motions, a good sign talker will make them all as rapidly as we +pronounce syllables, and he will tell a long story using one hand or +two, as most convenient.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER II</p> + +<p>Note 13, page 11: The sign for "Bird flying" is the sign for wings. The +two hands are raised opposite the shoulders, palms to the front, fingers +extended and together. Then the hands are waved forward and back, like +wings—slowly for large birds, fast for little birds, to imitate the +bird itself.</p> + +<p>Note 14, page 13: A good way to spread the Scout or cowboy tarpaulin bed +is to lay the tarpaulin out at full length, on the smooth place chosen, +and to lay the blankets and quilts, open, full length on top. Both ends +of the tarp are left bare, of course, for the bedding is shorter than +the tarp. Then the whole is turned back upon itself at the middle; one +edge of the tarp is tucked under, and part of the other edge, making a +bag, with leeway enough so that the sleeper can crawl in. Now there is +as much bedding under as over, which is the proper condition when +sleeping out upon the ground. The bare end of the tarp, under, will keep +the pillow off the dirt; the bare end which comes over will cover the +face in case of storm. The Scout has a low, flat bed, which will shed +wind and rain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span></p> + +<p>Note 15, page 13: A reflector is a handy baker. It is a bright-lined box +like half of a pyramid or half of an oven. The dough is put into it, and +it is set upon its base, open to the fire. The heat strikes it and +reflects upon the dough and the dough bakes. It is simple, and can be +made to fold together, so that it packs easily. Another trapper and +scout method is to smear dough upon a shovel or even a flat, smooth +board, and set it up against the fire. The Mexicans bake their +tortillas, or thin flour cakes, by smearing them upon smooth stones.</p> + +<p>Note 16, page 17: Scouts can readily invent a whistle code of their own. +The Western Indians used whistles of bone, in war, and the United States +Army can drill by whistle signals.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER III</p> + +<p>Note 17, page 21: The teeth are a very important item in Scout service. +If Scouts will notice the soldiers of the United States Army, and the +sailors of the United States Navy, they will notice also that their +teeth are always kept clean and sound. Scouts, no matter where they are, +should brush their teeth well with tooth powder every morning at least; +and should keep them free from particles of food, and should wash their +mouths with a dental antiseptic to kill microbes. Brushed teeth and +combed and brushed hair after the wet rub make the Scout fit for the +day's work. He feels decent.</p> + +<p>Note 18, page 25: Scouts who are in camp or on the trail without +fish-hooks and are hard-put to catch fish, may try an old Indian and +scout method. A bent pin sometimes does not work, with large fish; but +the Indians tied a cord or sinew to the end of a small, slender bone, +and again, with a loop, to the middle of the bone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span></p> + +<p>When the fish swallowed the bait impaled upon the bone, the cord or +sinew hauled the bone by the middle so that it usually snagged in the +fish's throat or gills. A sharp, tough splinter or a small nail will do +the same. Thus:</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-008" id="illus-008"></a> +<img src="images/illus-288.png" alt="" title="" width="100" height="105" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER IV</p> + +<p>Note 19, page 33: Newspaper stuffed into wet boots or shoes helps them +to dry by holding them open and by absorbing the moisture. Of course, +the newspaper should be changed frequently. Warm pebbles poured into wet +boots or shoes dry them quickly, too. A stuffing of dead grass is +another Scouty scheme.</p> + +<p>Note 20, page 36: For a leader of a Scouts' party to write up the chief +events of each day's march in a notebook, and to sketch the country +traversed, teaches order and disciplines the memory, and oftentimes will +prove a valuable record.</p> + +<p>Note 21, page 38: The right-handed or the left-handed person usually is +right-sided or left-sided, all the way down, but not always. So because +a person is right-handed or left-handed he <i>probably</i> is right-footed or +left-footed, but not <i>necessarily</i> so. Some persons use their left hands +to write with, but throw with their right hands, and are likely to use +either foot. And some may be left-handed but right-footed. A Scout +should learn to use both hands and both feet alike. And he also will +learn not to be cocksure and jump at conclusions. All rules have +exceptions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER V</p> + +<p>Note 22, page 39: Scouts will find that weather-signs among the high +mountains are very different from those of the low or the flatter +country. The easiest sign of storm is the night-caps. For when in the +morning the mountains still have their night-caps on, and the clouds +rest like shattered fog in the draws and hollows, the day will surely +have rain, by noon. But among the Rockies there usually is a +thunder-storm in the middle of every day during the summer.</p> + +<p>No one wind for all localities brings rain. The weather is interfered +with by the peaks and the valleys. However, here are a few signs to be +noted:</p> + +<p>When by day the air is extra clear, so that very distant ridges stand +out sharply, a storm is apt to be brewing.</p> + +<p>When the camp-fire smoke bends down, in the still air of midday or +afternoon, a storm is apt to be brewing.</p> + +<p>When by night the stars are extra sharp and twinkle less than usual, +overhead, but are dim around the horizon, a storm is apt to be brewing.</p> + +<p>When there is a halo or ring around the moon, a storm is apt to be +brewing; and it is claimed that the larger the circle, the nearer the +storm.</p> + +<p>When the canvas of the tent stays tight or damp, showing a gathering +dampness, a storm is apt to be brewing.</p> + +<p>When ants are noted dragging leaves or twigs across the entrance to +their nest, a storm is near.</p> + +<p>The change of the moon is claimed to change the weather also. And an old +maxim says that the third day before the new moon is the sign of the +weather for that moon month. If the new moon comes upon the 10th, then +the weather of the 8th is to be the general weather of the next thirty +days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span></p> + +<p>Of course, in winter time, or in the late fall or early spring, when the +sun-dogs appear, that is a pretty sure sign of cold weather. The Indians +say that the "sun is painting both cheeks," or that the "sun has built +fires to warm himself."</p> + +<p>But Scouts will have difficulty in predicting mountain weather, because +storms are diverted by the peaks, and swing off or are broken up; and +besides, many mountain trails and mountain camps are one mile and two +miles high—above ordinary conditions. The saying is that only fools and +Indians predict weather, in the mountains!</p> + +<p>Note 23, page 39: Scouts as well as anybody else should have their teeth +approved of by a dentist, before starting out on the long trail. The +tooth-ache saps the strength, and a cavity might result in a serious +abscess, far from proper treatment.</p> + +<p>Note 24, page 40: In the thick timber where there are many trees the +chance of course is less that the tree which you are under will be +struck by the lightning. But to seek refuge under any tree, in a field +or other open place, is dangerous. Many persons are killed, every +summer, by seeking some lone tree or small clump of trees, or a +high-standing tree, in a thunder-storm.</p> + +<p>Note 25, page 47: The low soft spot is not so good as the high hard +spot, to sleep on. Green grass is damp, and softness gathers dampness. +Cowboys and rangers always spread their beds on a little elevation, +where the ground is drier and where there is a breeze for ventilation +and to keep the insects away.</p> + +<p>Note 26, page 49: Nobody can cook by a big fire, without cooking himself +too! The smaller the fire the better, as long as it is enough. Just a +handful of twigs at a time will cook coffee or roast a chunk of meat. It +is an old scout saying that "Little wood feeds the fire, much wood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> puts +it out." Cook by coals rather than by flame. In the West cedar makes the +best coals, the cleanest flame; sage makes a very hot fire, and burns to +ashes which hold the fire, but it does not give hard coals. Anything +pitchy smokes the camp.</p> + +<p>In the mountains meat wrapped in a gunnysack or a tarpaulin, to protect +from the flies, and hung in the shade and particularly in a tree where +the air circulates, will keep a long, long time.</p> + +<p>Note 27, page 49: The brass eyes in the edges of the Elk Scouts' tarps +here would come into good use for stretching the tarp as a low "A" +shelter-tent or dog-tent. The small shelter-tents of the United States +Army are called by the soldiers "pup" tents.</p> + +<p>Note 28, page 53: The notion that many persons have, of taking guns with +them into the mountains or the hills, for protection from wild animals, +is a foolish notion. In this day and age the wild animals have been so +disciplined by man that they are afraid of him. They would rather run +than fight; and throughout the greater part of the United States in +North America the animals who <i>could</i> be dangerous are scarce. Guns do +much more harm than the animals themselves; and it is the wounded animal +which <i>is</i> dangerous. To pack a big gun on the ordinary trail through +the wilderness country West or East is the mark of a tenderfoot, unless +the gun is needed for meat. Many and many a seasoned wilderness +dweller—ranger, cowboy, rancher, prospector—travels afoot or horseback +day after day, night after night, and never carries a gun, never needs a +gun.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER VI</p> + +<p>Note 29, page 61: One of the regulations of the United States Army Pack +Transportation Department says that packers must treat all the mules +kindly, for a mule remembers kindness and never forgets injury. Packers +must not even throw stones, to drive a mule into line. Of course, Boy +Scouts know that kindness with animals always wins out over harshness, +and that there is no greater cowardliness than the abuse of a helpless +beast.</p> + +<p>Note 30, page 62: Highness and dryness, wood and water, and grazing for +the animals are the requirements of the Scouts' camp on the pack trail.</p> + +<p>Note 31, page 63: By camp law bird or four-foot or other harmless +animals within say two hundred yards of camp is safe from injury by man. +This also prevents reckless shooting about camp. The wild life near camp +is one of the chief charms of camping in the wilderness. No Scout wishes +to leave a trail of blood and murder and suffering, to mark his progress +through meadow and timber.</p> + +<p>Note 32, page 67: This division of watches or guards should be noted by +Scouts. Bed-mates or bunkies should not follow one another on guard; for +A wakes B when he crawls out; and after he has changed with B, and has +slept two or three hours, he is waked again by B crawling in. But each +Scout listed for guard duty should so be listed that he is not disturbed +through at least two of the watches.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER VII</p> + +<p>Note 33, page 72: A "trail" is made up of "sign" or marks which show +that something has passed that way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> The overturning of pebbles and +sticks, dryness and wetness of the spots where they were, dryness and +hardness of the edges of footprints, grass pressed down, twigs of bushes +broken, dew disturbed, water muddied, ant-hills crushed—all tell a tale +to the Scout. He must be able to figure out what was the condition of +the trail when the person or animal passed—and that will tell him how +long ago the marks or sign were made. And the shape of the sign, and the +way in which it is laid, tell what manner of person or animal passed, +and how fast. Steps vary in size, and in pressure and in distance apart. +A man at a very hurried walk is apt to leave a deeper toe-print, and a +loaded horse sinks deeper than a light one. A good trailer is a good +guesser, but he is a good guesser because he puts two and two together +and knows that they make four.</p> + +<p>Note 34, page 74: A portion of a patrol on a scout should think to leave +private signs, by marks in the dirt or on trees or by twigs bent or by +little heaps of stones, which will tell their comrades what has been +occurring. This the Indians were accustomed to do, especially in a +strange country. To this day little stone-heaps are seen, in the plains +and mountains of the West, marking where Indians had laid a trail.</p> + +<p>Note 35, page 77: Great generals and captains make it a point not to do +what the enemy wants them to do or expects them to do, and never to +think that the enemy is less smart than they are themselves. To despise +the enemy is to give him an advantage.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER VIII</p> + +<p>Note 36, page 88: "Parole" means word of honor not to attempt escape; +and in war when a prisoner of rank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> gives this promise he is permitted +his freedom within certain limits. Sometimes he is released entirely +upon his promise or parole not to fight again during the war. Paroles +are deemed serious matters, and few men are so reckless and deceitful as +to break them. But of course there are two sides to a parole; and if it +is not accepted as honestly as it is given, then there is no bargain. +But if there is the slightest doubt or argument, then the Scout ought to +stay a prisoner, rather than escape with dishonor, charged with breaking +his word. That the other fellow is dishonest is no excuse for the Scout +being dishonest, too.</p> + +<p>Note 37, page 89: The sign for escape is this: Bridger crossed his +wrists, with his fists doubled, and wrenched them apart, upward, as if +breaking a cord binding them. He may have used the "Go" sign, which is +the hand extended, edge up, in front of the hip, and pushed forward with +an upward motion, as if climbing a trail.</p> + +<p>Note 38, page 94: An old scout method of tying a prisoner's arms behind +his back is to place the hands there with their backs together, and to +tie the thumbs and the little fingers! This requires only ordinary cord +and not much of it, and even a strip from a handkerchief will do. To +prevent the prisoner from running away, he may be stood up against a +tree and his arms passed behind that, before the hands are tied.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER IX</p> + +<p>Note 39, page 100: Persons who are lost and are going it blindly on foot +usually keep inclining to the left, because they step a little farther +with the right foot than with the left. After a time they complete a +circle. Scouts should watch themselves and note whether they are making<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> +toward the left or not. Horses, too, are supposed to circle toward the +left. But all this applies chiefly to the level country. In the +mountains and hills the course is irregular, as the person or horse +climbs up and down, picking the easier way. And on a slope anybody is +always slipping downward a little, on a slant toward the bottom, unless +he lines his trail by a tree or rock.</p> + +<p>Scouts when they think that they are lost should hold to their good +sense. If they feel themselves growing panicky, they had better sit down +and wait until they can reason things out. The Scout who takes matters +easy can get along for a couple of days until he is found or has worked +himself free; but the Scout who runs and chases and sobs and shrieks +wears himself down so that he is no good.</p> + +<p>To be lost among the hills or mountains is much less serious than to be +lost upon the flat plains. The mountains and hills have landmarks; the +plains have maybe none. In the mountains and hills the Scout who is +looking for camp or companions should get up on a ridge, and make a +smoke—the two-smoke "lost" signal—and wait, and look for other smokes. +If he feels that he must travel, because camp is too far or cannot see +his smoke, or does not suspect that he is lost, his best plan is to +strike a stream and stick to it until it brings him out. Travel by a +stream is sometimes jungly; but in the mountains, ranches and cabins are +located beside streams. Downstream is of course the easier direction.</p> + +<p>It is a bad plan to try short cuts, when finding a way. The Scout may +think that by leaving a trail or a stream and striking off up a draw or +over a point he will save distance. But there is the chance that he will +not come out where he expects to come out, and that he will be in a +worse fix than before. When a course is once decided<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> upon, the Scout +should follow it through, taking it as easy as possible.</p> + +<p>Note 40, page 106: Old-time scouts had to make all their fires by flint +and steel; and it is well for modern Scouts to practice this. When the +ground is too wet, and would be apt to put out the little blaze, the +fire can be started in a frying-pan. Matches are very convenient, but +they must be warded from dampness. They can be carried in a corked +bottle; they can be dipped, before leaving home, in melted paraffin, +which will coat them water-proof; and dampness can be rubbed out of them +by friction by rolling them rapidly between the palms of the hands and +scratching them quick. When every object is soaked through, matches (if +dry) may be lighted upon a stone which has been rubbed violently against +another stone.</p> + +<p>If the Scout has a rifle or pistol or gun, then he can make a fire by +shooting powder into a bunch of tinder—raveled handkerchief or coat +lining, or frazzled cedar bark. The bullet or the shot should be drawn +out of the cartridge, and the powder made loose, and the tinder should +be fastened so that it will not be blown away.</p> + +<p>In the rain a blanket or coat or hat should be held over the little +blaze, until the flames are strong.</p> + +<p>It was the old-time scouts who taught even the Indians to make fire by +flint and steel, or by two flints. Two chunks of granite, especially +when iron is contained, will answer. The Indians previously had used +fire-sticks and were very careful to save coals. But they saw that +"knocking fire out of rocks" was much easier.</p> + +<p>Note 41, page 108: Scouts of course know the Big Dipper or the Great +Bear, and the Little Dipper or the Little Bear, in the sky. The Big +Dipper points to the North Star or Pole Star, and the North Star or +Pole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span> Star is the star in the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. +These two formations up above are the Clock of the Heavens.</p> + +<p>The "Guardians of the Pole" are the two stars which make the bottom of +the cup of the Big Dipper. They are supposed to be sentinels marching +around and around the tent of the North Star, as they are carried along +by the Big Dipper. For the stars of the Big and the Little Dipper, like +all the other stars, circuit the North Star once in about every +twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>But the old-time scouts of plains and mountains told time by the +"Pointers," which are the two bright stars forming the end of the cup of +the Big Dipper. These point to the Pole Star, and they move just as the +"Guardians of the Pole" move. They are easier to watch than the +"Guardians of the Pole," and are more like an hour-hand. With every hour +they, and the "Guardians of the Pole," and all the Dipper stars move in +the same direction as the sun one and one-half the distance between the +stars forming the top of the Big Dipper's cup. The Scout with a good +memory and a good eye for distance can guess pretty nearly how time +passes.</p> + +<p>He has another method, too. The circuit of the stars is not quite the +same as the circuit of the sun; for the stars swing about from +starting-place to starting-place in about four minutes less than +twenty-four hours, so that every month they gain 120 minutes, or two +hours. On May 1, at nine in the evening, the "Pointers" of the Big +Dipper are straight overhead, and point downward at the Pole Star, and +if we could see them twelve hours later, or at nine in the morning, we +should find them opposite, below the Pole Star, and pointing up at it. +On June 1, they would arrive overhead two hours earlier, or at seven in +the evening, and by nine o'clock would be west of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> overhead, while at +seven and nine in the morning they would be opposite, or halfway around. +On August 1 their halfway places would be at three in the afternoon and +three in the morning.</p> + +<p>So, figuring each month, and knowing where the "Pointers" are at nine, +or at midnight, or at three in the morning, the Scout can read, for +several nights running without appreciable change, what time it is. And +on the plains the old trappers were accustomed to look up out of their +buffalo-robes and say, "By the Pointers it is midnight."</p> + +<p>The Big Dipper swings on such a wide circle that sometimes it drops into +the hills or into mist. The Little Dipper stays high in the sky. +Therefore sailors choose the two brighter stars in the end of the cup of +the Little Dipper, and watch them, for an hour-hand.</p> + +<p>The Blackfeet Indians call the Big Dipper the Seven Brothers, and they, +and also other plains people such as sheep-herders and cowboys, tell the +time by the "Last Brother," which is the star in the end of the handle. +"The Last Brother is pointing to the east," or "The Last Brother is +pointing downwards to the prairie," say the Indians. And by that they +mean the hour is so and so.</p> + +<p>Note 42, page 109: The "Papoose on the old Squaw's Back" is a tiny star, +Alcor, very close to the star Mizar which forms the bend in the handle +of the Big Dipper. To see this tiny star is a test for eyesight. The +Sioux Indians say that the Big Dipper is four warriors carrying a +funeral bier, followed by a train of mourners. The second star in the +train (or the star in the bend) is the widow of the slain brave, with +her little child, or the Little Sister, weeping beside her!</p> + +<p>The Blackfeet and other Indians say that the Pole Star (which does not +move) is a hole in the sky, through which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> streams the light from the +magical country beyond. They call it "the star that stands still."</p> + +<p>By the "Lost Children" Jim Bridger meant the Pleiades. These stars, +forming a cluster or nebula, sink below the western horizon in the +spring and do not appear in the sky again until autumn; and the +following is the reason why. They were once six children in a Blackfeet +camp. The Blackfeet hunters had killed many buffalo, and among them some +buffalo calves. The little yellow hides of the buffalo calves were given +to the children of the camp to play with, but six of the children were +poor and did not get any. The other children made much fun of the six, +and plagued them so that they drove them out of the camp. After +wandering ashamed and afraid on the prairie, the six finally were taken +up into the sky. So they are not seen in the spring and summer, when the +buffalo calves are yellow; but in the autumn and winter, when the +buffalo calves are black, they come out.</p> + +<p>Nearly everybody can see the six stars of the Pleiades, and good +eyesight can make out seven. By turning the head and gazing sideways the +seven are made plainer. An English girl has eyesight so remarkable that +she has counted twelve.</p> + +<p>The Western Indians have had names for many of the stars and the planets +and the constellations, and the night sky has been of much company and +use to them and to the old plainsmen and mountaineers, just as it was to +Jim Bridger at this time.</p> + +<p>Mars is "Big-Fire-Star"; Jupiter is "Morning Star," or when evening star +is "The Lance"; Venus is "Day Star," because sometimes it is so bright +that it can be seen in the day. Scouts should know by the almanac what +is the morning star, and then when it rises over the camp or the trail +they are told that morning is at hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span></p> + +<p>Note 43, page 110: Sunday comes to the trail, to the mountains and +plains and field and forest, just as often as to the town and the farm. +The Scout will feel much better, mentally and physically, when he +observes Sunday. This one day in the seven can be made different by a +change from the ordinary routine: by a good cleaning up; by only a short +march, just enough for exercise; by a whole day in camp, if possible; by +an avoidance of harm to bird or beast; by some <i>especial</i> arrangement, +which will say, "This is Sunday." The real Jedediah Smith, fur-hunter +and explorer, found as much profit in his Bible as in his rifle, amidst +the wilderness; and the Scout of to-day should include the Bible in the +outfit. It reads well out in the great open, it is full of nature lore +of sky and water and earth, and it is a great comforter and sweetener of +trail and camp.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER X</p> + +<p>Note 44, page 112: The smoke signal has been in use for many, many +years. The Indians of the West used it much, and whenever an army +detachment or other strangers traversed the plains and the hills their +course was marked by the smoke signals of Indian scouts. To make smoke +signals, first a moderate blaze is started; then damp or green stuff is +piled on, for a smudge; and the column of smoke is cut into puffs by a +blanket or coat held over like a cup and suddenly jerked off. A high +place should be selected for the smoke signal, so as to distinguish it +from the ordinary camp-fire, which is not as a rule made on a high +place,—that is, in hostile country. A still day is necessary for +accurate smoke signaling. This signaling is being recommended for the +United States Forestry Service, so that Rangers and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> Guards can +telegraph warnings and news by the Morse or the Army and Navy alphabet. +A short puff would be the dot, a long puff the dash; or one short puff +would be "1," two short puffs close together "2," and a long puff "3." +This Army and Navy code is explained under Note 48.</p> + +<p>The Indians had secret codes, for the smoke signals; and used dense +smokes and thin smokes, both. Green pine and spruce and fire boughs +raise a thick black smoke.</p> + +<p>In army scouting on the plains the following signals were customary:</p> + +<p>"Wish to communicate." Three smokes side by side.</p> + +<p>"Enemy discovered." Two puffs, repeated at fifteen-minute intervals. Boy +Scouts need not have the intervals so long. One minute is enough, for a +standard.</p> + +<p>"Many enemy discovered." Three puffs, at intervals.</p> + +<p>"Come to council," or "Join forces." Four puffs, repeated.</p> + +<p>"March to the north." Two smokes, of two puffs each.</p> + +<p>"March to the south." Two smokes, of three puffs each.</p> + +<p>"March to the east." Three smokes, of two puffs each.</p> + +<p>"March to the west." Three smokes, of three puffs each.</p> + +<p>Plainsmen and woodsmen understand the following signals also:</p> + +<p>"Camp is here." One smoke, one puff at intervals.</p> + +<p>"Help. I am lost." Two fires, occasional single puffs.</p> + +<p>"Good news." Three steady smokes.</p> + +<p>Scouts' patrols can invent their own code of smokes, by number of +smokes, by puffs, and by intervals between puffs. Of course, the single +fire is much more easily managed by one person.</p> + +<p>Note 45, page 116: The Red Fox Scouts probably carried with them a +liquid carbolic and antiseptic soap, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> comes put up in small +bottles with patent shaker stoppers. A few drops of this in some water +makes a splendid wash for wounds, and is harmless. Druggists and +surgical supply stores can furnish Scouts with this soap. Being +non-poisonous, good for a gargle as well as for external use, it is +superior to many other antiseptic washes. A spool of surgeons' adhesive +tape, say three-quarter inch wide, a roll of sterilized absorbent +cotton, and a roll of sterilized gauze will of course be included in the +Scouts' first-aid kit.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XI</p> + +<p>Note 46, page 124: Bichloride of mercury is a strong antiseptic, and +much favored for disinfecting dishes and other vessels used by sick +people. It is convenient to carry, in a form known as Bernay's tablets. +They come white or blue, and one is dissolved in water to make a +solution. They are very poisonous, internally, and Scouts must look out +that none of the solution enters the stomach. Of course, there are many +antiseptic substances for washing wounds: potash and borax are good, +especially in the form of potassium permanganate and boric acid. +Anything in a tablet or a powdery form is easier to pack than anything +in a liquid form. Wounds must be kept surgically clean, which means +"aseptic" or perfectly free of poisoning microbes, or else there may be +blood-poisoning. So Scouts should be careful that their fingers and +whatever else touches a wound also are surgically clean, by being washed +well in some antiseptic. Cloths and knife blades, etc., can be made +clean by being boiled for ten minutes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XII</p> + +<p>Note 47, page 133: When a Scout would climb a tree which looks hard, +particularly a large-trunk tree, he can work a scheme by connecting his +ankles with a soft rope or a handkerchief, or the like, measuring about +two thirds around the trunk. Then when he hitches up along the trunk he +gets a splendid purchase. Several strands of rope are better than one, +so that they will not slip. And if the rope or cloth is wet, it will +stick better.</p> + +<p>Note 48, page 140: All Scouts should know how to wigwag messages. There +are three alphabets which may be used in telegraphing by wigwagging with +a flag or with the cap: the American Morse, such as is used in this +country by the regular telegraph, the Continental Morse, and the Army +and Navy. The American Morse is dots and dashes and spaces; but the +Continental Morse is different, because it does not have any spaces. It +is employed in Europe and in submarine cable work. The United States +Army and Navy have their own wigwag alphabet, which is named the Myer +alphabet, in compliment to Brevet Brigadier-General Albert J. Myer, the +first chief signal officer of the Army, appointed in 1860. Commonly the +system is known as the Army and Navy.</p> + +<p>Scouts will find that knowing the American Morse or dot-and-dash +telegraph signs will be of much value because these can be used both in +wigwag and in electric-wire work; but Scouts to be of assistance to +their country in military time must know the Army and Navy alphabet, +which is easier to learn.</p> + +<p>Instead of the dot and the dash and the space, the figures 1, 2, and 3 +are used. The figure 1, like the wigwag dot, is a quick sweep of the +flag to the right, from the perpendicular to the level of the waist, or +one quarter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> of a circle. The figure 2 is a similar sweep to the left. +The figure 3 is a "front," or sweeping the flag straight down, before, +and instantly returning it to the upright again. The perpendicular or +upright is the beginning of every motion. The "front" ends things: +words, sentences, messages, etc.</p> + +<p>Here is the Army and Navy alphabet: "A," you see, would be dip to left, +and return; to left, and return. "B," a left, a right, a right, and a +left.</p> + +<pre> +A .............22 I .............1 Q .............1211 +B .............2112 J .............1122 R .............211 +C .............121 K .............2121 S .............212 +D .............222 L .............221 T .............2 +E .............12 M .............1221 U .............112 +F .............2221 N .............11 V .............1222 +G .............2211 O .............21 W .............1121 +H .............122 P .............1212 X .............2122 + Y .............111 Z .............2222 + +Figs. Abbreviations + +1 .............1111 a is for after wi ...........with +2 .............2222 b .............before y ...........yes +3 .............1112 c .............can 1112 ...........tion +4 .............2221 h .............have +5 .............1122 n .............not +6 .............2211 r .............are +7 .............1222 t .............the +8 .............2111 u .............you +9 .............1221 ur ............your +0 .............2112 w .............word + +Signs + +End of word...............................3 +End of sentence...........................33 +End of message............................333 +Numerals follow (or end)..................X X 3 +Signature follows.........................Sig 3 +Error.....................................E E 3 +I understand (O.. K..)....................A A 3 +Cease signaling...........................A A A 333 +Cipher follows (or ends)..................X C 3 +Wait a moment.............................1111 3 +Repeat after (word).......................C C 3 A 3 (give word) +Repeat last word..........................C C 33 +Repeat last message.......................C C C 333 +Move little to right......................R R 3 +Move little to left.......................L L 3 +Signal faster.............................2212 3 +Permission granted........................P G 3 +Permission not granted....................N G 3 +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span>The +address in full of a message is considered as one sentence, ended by +3 or a "front," and return to perpendicular.</p> + +<p>This Army and Navy alphabet is easier to read, because it does away with +the pausing or lengthening of the motions, to make the spaces which help +to form some of the Morse letters. Every letter is reeled straight off +without a break.</p> + +<p>Two flags are used in wigwagging. A white flag with a red square in the +center is used against a dark background; a red flag with a white square +in the center is used against the sky or against a mixed background. But +of course in emergency anything must be tried, and for a short distance +the Scout can use his hat or cap, or handkerchief, or even his arm +alone. The motions should be sharp and quick and distinct, with a +perpendicular between each motion and a "front" between words. The Army +rate with the large service flag is five or six words a minute.</p> + +<p>The beam of a searchlight is used just as a flag is used, to sweep +upward for "perpendicular," downward for "front," and to right and to +left. Another system of night signaling is by lantern or torch; but it +should be swung from the knees up and out, for right or 1, up and out in +opposite direction for left, or 2, and raised straight up for "front" or +3. Four electric lamps in a row, which flash red and white in various +combinations, colored fires, bombs and rockets, also make night signals.</p> + +<p>For daytime signaling the United States Army favors the mirror or +heliograph (sun-writing) system. The 1 is a short flash, the 2 is two +short flashes, the 3 is a long, steady flash. This system can be read +through 100 and 150 miles.</p> + +<p>The United States Navy employs a two-arm or a two-flag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> system, which by +different slants and angles of the arms or flags signals by the Army and +Navy code. It is called the Semaphore system—like the semaphore block +signals of railroads. It is more convenient for windy weather, because +the flags are shorter and smaller than the flags of the three-motion +wigwag.</p> + +<p>Scouts should have in their library a copy of the United States Signal +Corps booklet, "Manual of Visual Signaling," which can be had at a small +price from the Government Printing Office at Washington. This tells all +about the different systems of day and night signaling, and shows +alphabets, signal flags, codes, ciphers, and so forth.</p> + +<p>The Indians of the plains and mountains have had systems of signaling as +perfect as those of the Army and Navy. In early days of the Army on the +plains, the Indians passed news along among themselves over long +distances faster than it was passed by the military telegraph. They used +a smoke code; and they used also mirror-flashes, blanket-waving, +pony-running, foot-running, and hand gestures.</p> + +<p>Their secret signals were never told; no threats or bribes could make an +Indian divulge his tribal or his band code. Not even the white men who +lived with the Indians could learn it. Once some Army officers watched a +Sioux chief, posted on a little knoll, drill his red cavalry for an +hour, without a word or a gesture; all he used was a little +looking-glass held in the palm of his hand.</p> + +<p>However, some of the signs were general. A tremulous motion or flash +meant game or enemy. Several quick flashes, close together, meant "Come +on." A beam to the left meant "By the left"; to the right meant "By the +right."</p> + +<p>When looking for buffalo, the number of flashes would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> tell how many +bands of buffalo were sighted, and a quivering motion would bid the +hunters to "Come on."</p> + +<p>Scouts will find some blanket signs handy. If the blanket is too large +to manage, fold it once.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, and +bend with it far to the right and to the left.</p> + +<p>"We want peace." Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, +and bending forward lay it flat upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"Keep away," or "No." Hold up the blanket, grasping the two upper +corners. Cross the arms, still with hands grasping the corners. Bring +right arm back to front and right, almost opening the blanket again. +Repeat.</p> + +<p>"Go back" or "Hide." Hold up blanket by two corners opposite right +shoulder, and swing it to right and down, several times.</p> + +<p>"Alarm!" Toss the blanket several times, as high as possible.</p> + +<p>"Something (or somebody) in sight." Hold up blanket by the two corners +opposite right shoulder. Then swing the right corner around to left and +to right. Repeat.</p> + +<p>"Come on" or "Approach." Hold blanket up by two upper corners in front +of the body. Swing the right arm and corner to the left. Repeat.</p> + +<p>Pony-running signals are usually in a circle, or forward and backward, +on the side of a hill or the crest. If the movements are fast, then the +news is exciting and important. If they are made in full view of the +surrounding country, then the danger is not close. If they are made +under cover, then the danger is near. If they are made under cover and +the rider suddenly stops and hides, then everybody must hide, or +retreat, for the enemy is too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> strong. The bigger the movements, the +more the enemy or the more the game. A dodging zigzag course shows that +the scout is pursued or apt to be pursued. A furious riding back and +forth along a crest means that a war party is returning successful. Boy +Scouts can make the motions on foot, and by a code of circles and figure +eights, etc., can signal many things.</p> + +<p>Signals by the hand and arm alone are convenient to know.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" is made by waving the right hand to right and to left in +quick succession.</p> + +<p>"We are friends" is made by raising both hands and grasping the left +with the right, as if shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"We are enemies" is made by placing the right fist against the forehead, +and turning it from side to side.</p> + +<p>"Halt" or "Keep away" is made by raising the right hand, palm to the +front, and moving it forward and back.</p> + +<p>"Come" is made by raising right hand, back to front, and beckoning with +a wide sweep forward and in again, repeating.</p> + +<p>For distance two-arm signals are better than one-arm; and Scouts should +have a short code in two-arms. Both arms stretched wide may mean "Go +back" or "Halt"; both arms partly dropped may mean "No," partly raised +may mean "Yes." And so on. These were plain signals.</p> + +<p>Note 49, page 141: A sprain, such as a sprained wrist or ankle, for +instance, is a serious injury, and must not be made light of or +neglected. If not properly and promptly treated, it is likely to leave +the cords or ligaments permanently weak. When treatment may begin at +once, the injured joint should be laid bare, even if by cutting the shoe +instead of unlacing it and pulling it off, and the coldest water should +be applied lavishly. The joint may well be plunged into an icy spring or +stream, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> held under a running faucet. If the joint can be kept +elevated, so that the blood will not flow into it so readily, so much +the better.</p> + +<p>If some distance has to be covered before the injured person arrives in +reach of treatment, the shoe might as well remain on, to act as a +bandage and a support—although it probably will have to be cut off +later. If the joint is not the ankle joint, a tight, stout bandage +should be fastened around. Nobody should try to step upon his sprained +ankle or use his sprained wrist, or whatever joint it may be.</p> + +<p>After swelling has set in very hot water is said to be superior to very +cold water; the very hot and the very cold have much the same effect, +anyway. But the water application should be kept up for at least +twenty-four hours, and the wounded place must not be moved one particle +for several days. When the time comes to move it, it should be wrapped +with a supporting bandage.</p> + +<p>General Ashley probably had a hard time with his neglected ankle.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XIII</p> + +<p>Note 50, page 147: The cache (which is a French word and is pronounced +"cash") or hiding-place is a genuine scout invention. Long ago the +trappers and traders of the plains and mountains, when they had more +pelts or more supplies than they could readily carry, would "cache" +them. The favorite way was to dig a hole, and gradually enlarge it +underground, like a jug. The dirt was laid upon a blanket and emptied +into a stream, so that it would not be noticed. Then the hole was lined +with dry sticks or with blankets, the pelts or supplies were packed +inside, and covered with buffalo robe or tarpaulin;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span> and the earth was +tamped in solidly. Next a fire was built on top, that the ashes might +deceive Indians and animals. Or the tent or lodge was erected over the +spot for a few days. At any rate, all traces of the hiding-place were +wiped out, and landmarks were noted well.</p> + +<p>It was considered a serious offense for one white man to molest the +cache of another white man, unless to save his own life. And to rob a +cache of the furs was worse than stealing horses.</p> + +<p>All caches were not alike. Some were holes, others were caves into +banks. When Scouts of to-day make a cache, they must record the location +exceedingly well and close, or they are apt to lose the spot. It seems +very easy to remember trees and rocks and all; but anybody who has laid +a rabbit down, while he chased another, and then has thought to go +straight and pick it up again—or anybody who has searched for a +golf-ball when he knew exactly where it lit—will realize that a cache +may be very tricky.</p> + +<p>Note 51, page 152: The homeopathic preparation of aconite is highly +recommended by many woodsmen and other travelers as a good thing to have +in the trail medicine kit. A few drops will kill a fever or a cold. +Dover's Powder (in small doses, by causing perspiration and thus +checking a fever or throwing off a cold), quinine, calomel (for +biliousness and to clean out the intestines when they are clogged with +waste and mucus), Epsom salts or castor oil (to clean out the bowels +also), an emetic, like sirup of ipecac (to empty the stomach quickly in +case of emergency), some mustard for making a plaster for the chest (in +croupiness or cold inside the chest), or for mixing with warm water to +make an emetic, extract of ginger or sirup of ginger (for summer +complaint and griping looseness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> of the bowels if long continued), +perhaps some soda mint tablets (for sour stomach caused by overeating), +are other simple remedies. Of course the Scout should learn to read the +little clinical thermometer, and one should be carried in the trail kit.</p> + +<p>It is much better to know exactly how to use a few simple standard +remedies, than to experiment with a lot of powerful drugs and very +likely make terrible mistakes. To give a medicine without being certain +just why and just what it will do is as bad as pointing a gun at +somebody without knowing whether or not it is loaded. Doctors study hard +for years, before they begin to practice; and Scouts cannot expect to +make doctors of themselves in a few months. Head cool, feet warm, bowels +open, moderate eating—these are United States Army rules, and Scouts' +rules too. "An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure"! +Scouts who take care of their bodies properly will rarely need medicine, +and should be proud of the fact.</p> + +<p>Note 52, page 153: In 1909, in California alone, out of 388 forest fires +243, or almost two thirds, were caused by human beings' carelessness; +and 119, or almost one third, were caused by camp-fires! The money loss +to the state was $1,000,000; but this was not all the damage. A forest, +or a single tree, is not replaced in a year, or in ten years; and the +stately evergreen trees grow slowest of all.</p> + +<p>California claims that if a few plain rules were observed, in that state +alone 500 out of 575 forest fires would not occur. Some of these rules +are:</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">1. Never throw aside matches, or lighted or smoldering stuff, where +anything can possibly catch from it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span></p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">2. Camp-fires should be as small as will serve. (Most campers build +fires too large, and against trees or logs whence they will be sure to +spread.)</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">3. Don't build fires in leaves, rotten wood or sawdust, or pine needles.</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">4. Don't build fires against large or hollow logs where it is hard to +see that they are not put out. They eat in.</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">5. Don't build fires under low evergreens, or where a flame may leap to +a branch, or sparks light upon a branch.</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">6. In windy weather and in dangerous places camp-fires should be +confined in trenches, or an open spot be chosen and the ground first +cleared of all vegetable matter.</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">7. Never leave a fire, even for a short time, until you are certain that +it is out. Wet it thoroughly, to the bottom, or else stamp it out and +pile on sand or dirt.</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em">8. Never pass by a fire in grass, brush, or timber, which is unguarded +and which you can see is likely to spread. Extinguish it; or if it is +beyond your control, notify the nearest ranch, town, or forest official.</p> + +<p>These regulations are for Boy Scouts to remember and to observe, no +matter where the trail leads.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XIV</p> + +<p>Note 53, page 161: A fire line is a cleared strip, sometimes only ten, +sometimes, where the brush is thick, as much as sixty feet wide, running +through the timber and the bushes, as a check to the blaze. An old +wood-road, or a regular wagon-road, or a logging-trail, or a pack-trail +is used as a fire line, when possible; but when a fire line must be +cleared especially, it is laid from bare<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> spot to bare spot and along +the tops of ridges. A fire travels very fast up-hill, but works slowly +in getting across. Scouts should remember this important fact: The +steeper the hill, the swifter the fire will climb it.</p> + +<p>There are three kinds of forest fires: Surface fires, which burn just +the upper layer of dry leaves and dry grass, brush, and small trees; +ground fires, which burn deep amidst sawdust or pine needles or peat; +and crown fires, which travel through the tops of the trees. Fires start +as surface fires, and then can be beaten out with coats and sacks and +shovels, and stopped by hoe and spade and plow. The ground fire does not +look dangerous, but it is, and it is hard to get at. Crown fires are +surface fires which have climbed into the trees and are borne along in +prodigious leaps by the wind. They are the most vicious and the worst to +fight.</p> + +<p>The duty of Scouts is to jump upon a surface fire and kill it before it +becomes a sly ground fire or a raving crown fire.</p> + +<p>Note 54, page 171: Even the best surgeons nowadays "fuss" with deep +wounds as little as possible. They clean the deep wound, by washing it +as well as they can, to remove dirt and other loose foreign particles; +then they cover gently with a sterilized pad, and bandage, to keep +microbes away, and Nature does the rest. In the days when our fathers +were boys, salves and arnica and all kinds of messy stuff were used; but +the world has found that all Nature asks is a chance to go ahead, +herself, without interference.</p> + +<p>Unless a bullet, even, is lodged where it irritates a nerve or a muscle +or disturbs the workings of some organ of the body, the surgeon is apt +to let it stay, until Nature has tried to throw a wall about it and +enclose it out of the way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span></p> + +<p>So the less a Scout pokes at a deep wound, the better. He can wash it +out with hot water, and maybe can pick out particles of visible dirt or +splinters with forceps which have been boiled for ten minutes. Then he +can bandage it loosely, and wait for Nature or a surgeon.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XVI</p> + +<p>Note 55, page 186: The Elks by this time had lost their pack-saddles and +panniers, which had been cached with other stuff after the two burros +were stolen by the renegades. They had lost also their lash ropes with +the cinchas; so that it was necessary to throw some pack-hitch that did +not require a cincha and hook. One of the easiest of such hitches is the +squaw-hitch. The tarps were spread out and the camp stuff was folded in +so that the result was a large, soft pad, with nothing to hurt Apache's +back. Then the hitch was thrown with one of the ropes, as follows:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-009" id="illus-009"></a> +<img src="images/illus-314.png" alt="" title="" width="300" height="106" /><br /> +</div> + +<p>Figure I is a double bight, which is laid over the top of the pack, so +that the two loops hang, well down, half on each side. "X"-"Y" is the +animal's back. Take the end of the rope, "c," and pass it under the +animal's belly, and through loop "a" on the other side; pass rope end +"d" under and through loop "b," the same way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span> Next bring them back to +the first side again, and through the middle place "e," as shown by +dotted lines of Figure II. Keep all the ropes well separated, where they +bite into the pack and into the animal's stomach, and draw taut, and +fasten with a hitch at "e." The result will look like Figure III.</p> + +<p>The diamond hitch <i>can</i> be tied by using a loop instead of the cincha +hook.</p> + +<p>Note 56, page 193: Pack animals and saddle-horses do much better on the +trail if they can be permitted to graze free, or only hobbled. They like +to forage about for themselves, and usually will eat more and better +grass than when tied by a picket rope. During the first three or four +days out, horse or mule is apt to wander back to the home pasture. +Hobbles can be bought or made. When bought, they are broad, flexible +strips of leather about eighteen inches long, with cuffs which buckle +around each fore leg above the hoof. Hobbles can be made on the spot by +twisting soft rope from fore leg to fore leg and tying the ends by +lapping in the middle.</p> + +<p>It is safer to picket a horse by a rope upon the neck rather than upon +the leg. He is not so apt to injure himself by pulling or running. A +picket rope is forty feet long. To loop it securely about the neck, +measure with the end about the neck, and at the proper place along the +rope tie a single knot; knot the end of the rope, and passing it about +the neck thrust the knotted end through the single knot. Here is a loop +that cannot slip and choke the horse, and can easily be untied.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the loose end of the picket rope may be fastened to a tree, or +to a bush. A horse should be picketed out from trees, or in the center +of an open space, so that he cannot wind the rope about a tree and hold +himself too short to graze. Sometimes the free end is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span> fastened to a +stake or picket-pin driven into the ground. But if there is no pin, and +no tree or bush is handy, then a "dead-man" may be used. This is an old +scout scheme. The rope is tied to a stick eighteen inches long, or to a +bunch of sticks, or to a bunch of brush, or to a stone; and this buried +a foot and a half or two feet, and the earth or sand tamped upon it. +Thus it is wedged fast against any ordinary pull. By this scheme a horse +may be picketed out on the bare desert.</p> + +<p>When an animal is allowed to graze free, a good plan is to have a loose +rope twenty or thirty feet in length trail from his neck as he grazes. +This is another scout scheme, used by Indians, trappers, and cowboys. +When the animal declines to be bridled or grasped by the mane, the +trailing rope usually can be caught up. Indians and trappers when riding +depended much upon this trailing rope, so that when thrown they could +grab it instantly, and mount again.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XVII</p> + +<p>Note 57, page 206: Flowers as well as animals have their place and their +rights; and they as well as the animals help to make the great +out-of-doors different from the in-doors. A Scout never destroys +anything uselessly or "for fun."</p> + +<p>Note 58, page 211: Scouts should learn how to repair dislocations of the +jaw, the finger, and the shoulder, as these are the least difficult and +the most frequent. A dislocation can be told from a fracture of the bone +by a twisting of the hand or the foot, and by a shortening or a +lengthening of the arm or leg, according to whether the head of the bone +has slipped <i>up</i> from the socket, or <i>down</i>. And there is neither +feeling nor sound of the broken bones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> grating against each other. <i>But +never go ahead blindly.</i></p> + +<p>A Scout who dislocates his own hip, far from help, should try lashing +his leg to a tree, and on his back, clasping another tree, should pull +himself forward with all his strength. But a dislocation of the knee is +much more delicate to manage, and with that or a dislocated elbow the +Scout can contrive to get to a surgeon.</p> + +<p>Note 59, page 214: Yes, Scouts can always manage. The quickest way to +make a blanket stretcher is to double the blanket, tie each pair of +corners with a non-slipping knot, and pass a pole through the fold on +one edge and through the knotted corners of the other. The quickest way +to make a coat stretcher is to take two coats, turn the sleeves of one +or of both inside, lay the coats inside up, or sleeves up, with the +tails touching at the edges. Thrust a pole through each line of sleeves, +and button each coat over the poles.</p> + +<p>Three or four belts or other straps such as camera straps slung between +poles form an emergency litter or seat; and a man who can sit up can be +carried in a chair made by a pole or rifle thrust through the sleeves of +a coat, and the coat-tail tied fast to another pole or rifle.</p> + +<p>When an injured person is too sore to be moved from blanket to litter, +an old scout method is this: Three cross-pieces or short poles are +lashed to connect the two long poles or side poles. One short piece +forms each end and one crosses the middle, thus:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="illus-010" id="illus-010"></a> +<img src="images/illus-317.png" alt="" title="" width="200" height="103" /><br /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span>This +frame is lowered over the patient, and the blanket that he is on is +fastened to its edges. Then when the litter is ready, he is in it +already! The middle cross-piece is handy for him to grasp, for steadying +himself.</p> + +<p>Small stones rolled in the corners of blankets make a purchase for the +wrappings, and the knots will not slip.</p> + +<p>Scouts may make chairs by clasping hands; but an easy way is to have the +patient sit upon a short board or short pole resting in the hollow of +the bearers' arms.</p> + +<p>In smooth country, and when the sick or wounded person is not too badly +off, the Indian and trapper "travois" or horse litter may be employed. +Two elastic poles about fifteen feet long are united by cross-pieces, +ladder style; and with two ends slung one upon either side of the horse, +and the other two ends dragging, are trailed along behind the horse. The +poles should be springy, so as to lessen the jar from rough places.</p> + +<p>If there is another steady horse, the rear ends of the litter can be +slung upon it, instead of resting on the ground. This is another old +scout and Indian method.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XVIII</p> + +<p>Note 60, page 216: "Jerked" meat is another genuinely scout institution, +and has been well known to Indians and trappers and hunters in the West +since early times. The air of the Western plains and mountains is very +dry and pure. Venison or bear-meat or beef, when raw may be cut into +strips two fingers wide, a half or three quarters of an inch thick, and +six or seven inches long, and hung up in the sun. In about three days it +is hard and leathery, and may be carried about until eaten. It may be +eaten by chewing at it as it is, or it may be fried. Scouts will find +that, while traveling, a couple of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> slices of this jerked meat, chewed +and swallowed, keeps up the strength finely.</p> + +<p>When a camp is in a hurry, the meat may be strung over a slow fire, to +make it dry faster; and it may be cured faster yet by smoking, as the +Elks cured it. Some persons use salt; and if they have time they +sprinkle the pile of strips, when fresh, with salt, and fold them in the +animal's green hide, to pickle and sweat for twenty-four hours. But salt +is not needed; and of course the Indians and the old-time scout trappers +never had salt. Trappers sometimes used a sprinkle of gunpowder for +salt; and that is an army makeshift, too.</p> + +<p>After a buffalo hunt the Indian villages were all festooned with jerked +meat, strung on scaffolds and among the teepees. Traders and emigrants +jerked the meat by stringing it along the outside of their wagons and +drying it while on the move.</p> + +<p>Note 61, page 217: This is the Indian and trapper method of dressing +skins, and is easy for any Scout of to-day. The skin is stretched, hair +side down, between pegs, or over a smooth bowlder or log, while it is +fresh or green, and with a knife or bone, not too sharp, is scraped +until the mucus-like thin inner coating is scraped away. This is called +"graining." In the old-time scout's lodge or camp there always was a +"graining block"—a smooth stump or log set up for the pelts to fit over +while being scraped. Do not scrape so deep as to cut the roots of the +hair. Next the pelt is dried. Then it is covered with a mixture of the +brains and pure water, and soaked, and it is rubbed and worked with both +hands until the brains have been rubbed in and until the skin is rubbed +dry and soft. Next it is laid over a willow frame, or hung up, open, and +smoked for twelve hours or so. Now it is soft and unchangeable, +forever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span></p> + +<p>When white clay or gypsum was near, the Indians would mix that with +water until the fluid was the color of milk and four times as thick. +Before the skin was smoked it was smeared plentifully with this, and +allowed to dry. Then it was rubbed a long time, until it was soft and +flexible and the clay had all been rubbed away. This took out the stains +and made the skin white.</p> + +<p>Note 62, page 222: Aluminum is not dangerous to cook in. Tin sometimes +unites with acids in foods, or in certain liquids, and gives off a +poison. Tin also rusts, but aluminum does not. And aluminum is much the +lighter in weight, and is a better heat conductor, therefore cooking +quicker.</p> + +<p>Note 63, page 223: "Levez!" is what the old-time scouts-trappers ought +to have said. It is the French for "Rise! Get up!" But some trappers +said "Leve! Leve!" and some called "Lave!" thinking that they were using +the Spanish verb "Lavar," meaning to wash.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XIX</p> + +<p>Note 64, page 236: Scouts should bear in mind that practically every +illness demands a cleaning out of the bowels, by a prompt laxative or by +a mild cathartic, in the very beginning. This carries off the poisons +that feed the illness. And Scouts should bear in mind that for a pain +which indicates appendicitis, an ice-cold pack and not a hot pack is the +proper application. The ice-cold pack drives the blood away from the +appendix, and keeps it more normal until the surgeon can arrive. A hot +pack draws the blood to the region and congests or swells the appendix +all the more. Irritated thus, the appendix is apt to burst. The prompt +attention to the bowels is <i>always</i> necessary.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XX</p> + +<p>Note 65, page 251: In the dark a horse or mule will smell out the trail +where other horses and mules have passed. The mule has been supposed to +have a better nose than the horse, for trails and for water—and for +Indians. In the camps of emigrants and trappers and other overland +travelers, of the old days, the mules would smell approaching Indians +and give the alarm.</p> + +<p class="center">CHAPTER XXI</p> + +<p>Note 66, page 260: Among the Western Indians their scouts were +especially selected young men, and these were likened to wolves. They +were instructed "to be wise as well as brave; to look not only to the +front, but to the right and left, behind them, and at the ground; to +watch carefully the movements of all wild animals, from buffalo to +birds; to wind through ravines and the beds of streams; to walk on hard +ground or where there is grass, so as to leave no trail; to move with +great care so as not to disturb any wild animals; and to return with +much speed should they discover anything to report." When the scout +returned with news of a war-party, he howled like a wolf.</p> + +<p>"To scout" was the wolf sign, with the hand turning to right and to left +and downward, like wolf ears pricking in all directions.</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 20710-h.txt or 20710-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/1/20710</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Sabin, +Illustrated by Clarence H. Rowe + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Pluck on the Long Trail + Boy Scouts in the Rockies + + +Author: Edwin L. Sabin + + + +Release Date: February 28, 2007 [eBook #20710] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/c/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 20710-h.htm or 20710-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710/20710-h/20710-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710/20710-h.zip) + + + + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +Or + +Boy Scouts in the Rockies + +by + +EDWIN L. SABIN + + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +THE BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS +By James Otis. Illustrated by Charles Copeland. + +ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL; OR, BOY SCOUTS ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN +By Percy K. Fitzhugh. Illustrated by Remington Schuyler. + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL; OR, BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES +By Edwin L. Sabin. Illustrated by Clarence Rowe. + +Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.25 postpaid. + +A series of wholesome, realistic, entertaining stories for boys by +writers who have a thorough knowledge of Boy Scouts and of real scouting +in the sections of the country in which the scenes of their books are +laid. + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY +NEW YORK + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + + +[Illustration: See page 123. "'YOU GIT!' HE ORDERED."] + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +Or + +Boy Scouts in the Rockies + +by + +EDWIN L. SABIN +Author of "Bar B Boys," "Range and Trail," +"Circle K," Etc. + +Illustrated by Clarence H. Rowe + + + + + + + +It's honor Flag and Country dear, and hold them in the van; +It's keep your lungs and conscience clean, your body spick and span; +It's "shoulders squared" and "be prepared," and always "play the man"; + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er! + + + +New York +Thomas Y. Crowell Company +Publishers +Copyright, 1912, by +Thomas Y. Crowell Company + + + +TO SCOUTS + +Scouts in America have a high honor to maintain, for the American scout +has always been the best in the world. He is noted as being keen, quick, +cautious, and brave. He teaches himself, and he is willing to be taught +by others. He is known and respected. Even in the recent war in South +Africa between Great Britain and the Boers, it was Major Frederick +Russell Burnham, an American, once a boy in Iowa, who was the English +Chief of Scouts. Major Burnham is said to be the greatest modern scout. + +The information in this book is based upon thoroughly American +scoutcraft as practiced by Indians, trappers, and soldiers of the +old-time West, and by mountaineers, plainsmen, and woodsmen of to-day. + +As the true-hearted scout should readily acknowledge favor and help, so +I will say that for the diagram of the squaw hitch and of the diamond +hitch I am indebted to an article by Mr. Stewart Edward White in +_Outing_ of 1907, and one by Mr. I. J. Bush in _Recreation_ of 1911; for +the "medicine song" and several of the star legends, to that Blackfeet +epic, "The Old North Trail," by Walter McClintock; for medical and +surgical hints, to Dr. Charles Moody's "Backwoods Surgery and Medicine" +and to the American Red Cross "First Aid" text-book; for some of the +lore, to personal experiences; and for much of it, to various old army, +hunting, and explorer scout-books, long out of print, written when good +scouting meant not only daily food, travel, and shelter, but daily life +itself. + +E. L. S. + + + +BOOK KIT + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. The Long Trail 1 + II. The Night Attack 11 + III. The Big Trout 21 + IV. The Beaver Man 31 + V. Two Recruits 39 + VI. A Disastrous Doze 54 + VII. Held by the Enemy 69 + VIII. A New Use for a Camera 85 + IX. Jim Bridger on the Trail 98 + X. The Red Fox Patrol 111 + XI. The Man at the Dug-out 121 + XII. Foiling the Fire 133 + XIII. Orders from the President 146 + XIV. The Capture of the Beaver Man 161 + XV. General Ashley Drops Out 179 + XVI. A Burro in Bed 185 + XVII. Van Sant's Last Cartridge 199 + XVIII. Fitz the Bad Hand's Good Throw 215 + XIX. Major Henry says "Ouch" 230 + XX. A Forty-mile Ride 244 + XXI. The Last Dash 258 + + +SCOUT NOTES + + 1. On Old-Time Scouts 277 + 2. On Taking a Message to Garcia 278 + 3. On Socks and Feet 279 + 4. On the Tarpaulin Bed-Sheet 279 + 5. On the Diamond Hitch 279 + 6. On the Indian Bow and Arrow 282 + 7. On the Lariat or Rope 282 + 8. On Neatness and the War-bag 283 + 9. On Tea 283 + 10. On the Medicine Kit 283 + 11. On the Straight-foot Walk 284 + 12. On Sign Language 284 + 13. On Sign for Bird Flying 286 + 14. On Making the Tarp Bed 286 + 15. On the Reflector Oven--and a Shovel 287 + 16. On a Whistle Code 287 + 17. On Brushing Teeth and Hair 287 + 18. On Snagging Fish 287 + 19. On Drying Boots 288 + 20. On Records and Maps 288 + 21. On Right or Left Footedness 288 + 22. On Weather Warnings 289 + 23. On Watching Teeth 290 + 24. On Lightning 290 + 25. On Bedding Place 290 + 26. On Cooking 290 + 27. On the Tarp Shelter Tent 291 + 28. On Guns 291 + 29. On Treating Pack-Animals 292 + 30. On the Scout Camp Place 292 + 31. On Camp-Law Protection 292 + 32. On Division of Guard Duty 292 + 33. On Trailing 292 + 34. On Marking the Trail 293 + 35. On Respecting the Enemy 293 + 36. On the Parole 293 + 37. On the Sign for Escape 294 + 38. On Tying a Prisoner 294 + 40. On Making a Fire 296 + 41. On the Clock of the Heavens 296 + 42. On Stars 298 + 43. On Sunday 300 + 44. On Smoke Signals 300 + 45. On Surgical Supplies 301 + 46. On Antiseptics 302 + 47. On Climbing Trees 303 + 48. On Wigwags and Other Motion Signaling 303 + 49. On Sprains 308 + 50. On Caches 309 + 51. On Use of Medicines 310 + 52. On Forest Fires 311 + 53. On Fire Fighting 312 + 54. On Deep Wounds 313 + 55. On the Squaw Hitch 314 + 56. On Picketing and Hobbling 315 + 57. On Respecting Nature 316 + 58. On Dislocations 316 + 59. On Litters for Wounded 317 + 60. On Jerked Meat 318 + 61. On Dressing Pelts 319 + 62. On Aluminum 320 + 63. On "Levez!" 320 + 64. On Appendicitis 320 + 65. On the Nose of Horse and Mule 321 + 66. On Being a Scout 321 + +[Transcriber's note: Note 39 was not referenced in this table.] + + + +PICTURE SIGNS + + +"'You git!' he ordered" Frontispiece + + OPPOSITE + PAGE + +"Bill Duane went through him" 78 +"It was our private Elk Patrol code" 178 +"Like cave-men or trappers we descended" 214 + + + +THE ROLL CALL + + +THE ELK PATROL OF COLORADO: + +First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley. +First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry. +First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson. +First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. +Second-class Scout "Little" Dick Smith, or Jedediah Smith. +Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger. + +THE RED FOX PATROL OF NEW JERSEY: + +First-class Scout Horace Ward. +First-class Scout Edward Van Sant. + +FRIENDS AND ENEMIES: + +Sally and Apache, the Elk Totem Burros. +Bill Duane and his Town Gang, Who Make the Trail Worse. +Bat and Walt, the Renegade Recruits. +The Beaver Man. +The Game Warden, the Forest Ranger, the Cow-puncher, + the two Ranch Women, the Doctor; Pilot Peak, Creeks, + Valleys, Hills, Timber, and Sage and Meadows; Rain + and Fire and Flood; the Big Trout, the Mother Bear, + the Tame Ptarmigans, etc. + +THE LONG TRAIL + +Afoot, One Hundred Miles through a Wild Country and over the Medicine +Range. Described by Jim Bridger, with a Few Chapters by Major Henry. + + + + + + +PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL + +CHAPTER I + +THE LONG TRAIL + + +We are the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of America. Our +sign is [Illustration] and our colors are dark green and white, like the +pines and the snowy range. Our patrol call is the whistle of an elk, +which is an "Oooooooooooo!" high up in the head, like a locomotive +whistle. We took the Elk brand (that is the same as totem, you +know, only we say "brand," in the West), because elks are the great +trail-makers in the mountains. + +About the hardest thing that we have set out to do yet has been to carry +a secret message across the mountains, one hundred miles, from our town +to another town, with our own pack outfit, and finding our own trail, +and do it in fifteen days including Sundays. That is what I want to tell +about, in this book. + +There were six of us who went; and just for fun we called ourselves by +trapper or scout names. We were: + +First-class Scout Roger Franklin, or General William Ashley. He is our +patrol leader. He is fifteen years old, and red-headed, and his mother +is a widow and keeps a boarding-house. + +First-class Scout Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry. He is our corporal. +He is sixteen years old, and has snapping black eyes, and his father is +mayor. + +First-class Scout Harry Leonard, or Kit Carson. He is thirteen years +old, and before he came into the Scouts we called him "Sliver" because +he's so skinny. His father is a groceryman. + +First-class Scout Chris Anderson, or Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He +is fifteen years old, and tow-headed and all freckled, and has only half +a left arm. He got hurt working in the mine. But he's as smart as any of +us. He can use a camera and throw a rope and dress himself, and tie his +shoe-laces and other knots. He's our best trailer. His father is a +miner. + +Second-class Scout Richard Smith, or Jedediah Smith. He is only twelve, +and is a "fatty," and his father is postmaster. + +Second-class Scout Charley Brown, or Jim Bridger the Blanket Chief. +That's myself. I'm fourteen, and have brown eyes and big ears, and my +father is a lawyer. When we started I had just been promoted from a +tenderfoot, so I didn't know very much yet. But we're all first-class +Scouts now, and have honors besides. + +For Scout work we were paired off like this: Ashley and Carson; Henry +and Smith; Fitzpatrick and Bridger. (See Note 1, in back of book.) + +Our trip would have been easier (but it was all right, anyway), if a +notice hadn't got into the newspaper and put other boys up to trying to +stop us. This is what the notice said: + + The Elk Patrol of the local Boy Scouts is about to take a message + from Mayor Scott across the range to the mayor of Green Valley. + This message will be sealed and in cipher, and the boys will be + granted fifteen days in which to perform the trip over, about 100 + miles, afoot; so they will have to hustle. They must not make use + of any vehicles or animals except their pack-animals, or stop at + ranches except through injury or illness, but must pursue their own + trail and live off the country. The boys who will go are Roger + Franklin, Tom Scott, Dick Smith, Harry Leonard, Chris Anderson, and + Charley Brown. + +Of course, this notice gave the whole scheme away, and some of the other +town boys who pretended to make fun of us Scouts because we were trying +to learn Scoutcraft and to use it right planned to cut us off and take +the message away from us. There always are boys mean enough to bother +and interfere, until they get to be Scouts themselves. Then they are +ashamed. + +We knew that we were liable to be interfered with, because we heard some +talk, and Bill Duane (he's one of the town fellows; he doesn't do much +of anything except loaf) said to me: "Oh, you'll never get through, kid. +The bears will eat you up. Bears are awful bad in that country." + +But this didn't scare _us_. Bears aren't much, if you let them alone. We +knew what he meant, though. And we got an anonymous letter. It came to +General Ashley, and showed a skull and cross-bones, and said: + + BEWARE!!! No Boy Scouts allowed on the Medicine + Range! Keep Off!!! + +That didn't scare us, either. + +When we were ready to start, Mayor Scott called us into his office and +told us that this was to be a real test of how we could be of service in +time of need and of how we could take care of ourselves; and that we +were carrying a message to Garcia, and must get it through, if we could, +but that he put us on our honor as Scouts to do just as we had agreed to +do. (See Note 2.) + +Then we saluted him, and he saluted us with a military salute, and we +gave our Scouts' yell, and went. + +Our Scouts' yell is: + + B. S. A.! B. S. A.! + Elk! Elk! Hoo-ray!! + +and a screech all together, like the bugling of an elk. + +This is how we marched. The message was done up flat, between cardboard +covered by oiled silk with the Elk totem on it, and was slung by a +buckskin thong from the general's neck, under his shirt, out of sight. + +We didn't wear coats, because coats were too hot, and you can't climb +with your arms held by coat-sleeves. We had our coats in the packs, for +emergencies. We wore blue flannel shirts with the Scouts' emblem on the +sleeves, and Scouts' drab service hats, and khaki trousers tucked into +mountain-boots hob-nailed with our private pattern so that we could tell +each other's tracks, and about our necks were red bandanna handkerchiefs +knotted loose, and on our hands were gauntlet gloves. Little Jed Smith, +who is a fatty, wore two pairs of socks, to prevent his feet from +blistering. That is a good scheme. (Note 3.) + +General Ashley and Major Henry led; next were our two burros, Sally (who +was a yellow burro with a white spot on her back) and Apache (who was a +black burro and was named for Kit Carson's--the real Kit +Carson's--favorite horse). Behind the burros we came: the two other +first-class Scouts, and then the second-class Scouts, who were Jed +Smith and myself. + +We took along two flags: one was the Stars and Stripes and the other was +our Patrol flag--green with a white Elk totem on it. They were fastened +to a jointed staff, the Stars and Stripes on top and the Patrol flag +below; and the butt of the staff was sharpened, to stick into the +ground. The flags flew in camp. We did not have tents. We had three +tarps, which are tarpaulins or cowboy canvas bed-sheets, to sleep in, on +the ground, and some blankets and quilts for over and under, too. (Note +4.) And these and our cooking things and a change of underclothes and +stockings, etc., were packed on the burros with panniers and top-packs +lashed tight with the diamond hitch. (Note 5.) + +We decided to pack along one twenty-two caliber rifle, for rabbits when +we needed meat. One gun is enough in a camp of kids. This gun was under +the general's orders (he was our leader, you know), so that there +wouldn't be any promiscuous shooting around in the timber, and somebody +getting hit. It was for business, not monkey-work. We took one of our +bows, the short and thick Indian kind, and some of our two-feathered +arrows, in case that we must get meat without making any noise. (Note +6.) And we had two lariat ropes. (Note 7.) Each pair of Scouts was +allotted a war-bag, to hold their personal duds, and each fellow put in +a little canvas kit containing tooth-brush and powder, comb and brush, +needles and thread, etc. (Note 8.) + +For provisions we had flour, salt, sugar, bacon, dried apples, dried +potatoes, rice, coffee (a little), tea, chocolate, baking-powder, +condensed milk, canned butter, and half a dozen cans of beans, for short +order. (Note 9.) Canned stuff is heavy, though, and mean to pack. We +didn't fool with raw beans, in bulk. They use much space, and at 10,000 +and 12,000 feet they take too long to soak and cook. + +We depended on catching trout, and on getting rabbits or squirrels to +tide us over; and we were allowed to stock up at ranches, if we should +pass any. That was legitimate. Even the old trappers traded for meat +from the Indians. + +We had our first-aid outfits--one for each pair of us. I carried Chris's +and mine. We were supplied with camp remedies, too. (Note 10.) Doctor +Wallace of our town, who was our Patrol surgeon, had picked them out for +us. + +General Ashley and Major Henry set the pace. The trail out of town was +good, and walking fast and straight-footed (Note 11) we trailed by the +old stage road four miles, until we came to Grizzly Gulch. Here we +turned off, by a prospectors' trail, up Grizzly. The old stage road +didn't go to Green Valley. Away off to the northwest, now, was the +Medicine Range that we must cross, to get at Green Valley on the other +side. It is a high, rough range, 13,000 and 14,000 feet, and has snow on +it all the year. In the middle was Pilot Peak, where we expected to +strike a pass. + +The prospect trail was fair, and we hustled. We didn't stop to eat much, +at noon; that would have taken our wind. The going was up grade and you +can't climb fast on a full stomach. We had a long march ahead of us, for +old Pilot Peak looked far and blue. + +Now and then the general let us stop, to puff for a moment; and the +packs had to be tightened after Sally's and Apache's stomachs had gone +down with exercise. We followed the trail single file, and about two +o'clock, by the sun, we reached the head of the gulch and came out on +top of the mesa there. + +We were hot and kind of tired (especially little Jed Smith, our +"fatty"); but we were not softies and this was no place to halt long. We +must cross and get under cover again. If anybody was spying on us we +could be seen too easy, up here. When you're pursuing, you keep to the +high ground, so as to see; but when you're pursued you keep to the low +ground, so as not to be seen. That was the trappers' way. + +I'll tell you what we did. There are two ways to throw pursuers off the +scent. We might have done as the Indians used to do. They would +separate, after a raid, and would spread out in a big fan-shape, every +one making a trail of his own, so that the soldiers would not know which +to follow; and after a long while they would come together again at some +point which they had agreed on. But we weren't ready to do this. It took +time, and we did not have any meeting-spot, exactly. So we left as big a +trail as we could, to make any town gang think that we were not +suspicious. That would throw them off their guard. + +Single file we traveled across the mesa, and at the other side we dipped +into a little draw. Here we found Ute Creek, which we had planned to +follow up to its headwaters in the Medicine Range. A creek makes a good +guide. A cow-trail ran beside it. + +"First-class Scout Fitzpatrick (that was Chris) and Second-class Scout +Bridger (that was I) drop out and watch the trail," commanded General +Ashley (that was Patrol Leader Roger Franklin). "Report at Bob Cat +Springs. We'll camp there for the night." + +Chris and I knew what to do. We gave a big leap aside, to a flat rock, +and the other Scouts continued right along; and because they were single +file the trail didn't show any difference. I don't suppose that the town +gang would have noticed, anyway; but you must never despise the enemy. + +From the flat rock Fitzpatrick and I stepped lightly, so as not to leave +much mark, on some dried grass, and made off up the side of the draw, +among the bushes. These grew as high as our shoulders, and formed a fine +ambuscade. We climbed far enough so that we could see both sides of the +draw and the trail in between; and by crawling we picked a good spot and +sat down. + +We knew that we must keep still, and not talk. We kept so still that +field-mice played over our feet, and a bee lit on Fitzpatrick. He didn't +brush it off. + +We could talk sign language; that makes no sound. Of course, Fitz could +talk with only one hand. He made the signs to watch down the trail, and +to listen; and I replied with men on horseback and be vigilant as a +wolf. (Note 12.) + +It wasn't bad, sitting here in the sunshine, amidst the brush. The draw +was very peaceful and smelled of sage. A magpie flew over, his black and +white tail sticking out behind him; and he saw us and yelled. Magpies +are awful sharp, that way. They're a good sign to watch. Everything +tells something to a Scout, when he's an expert. + +Sitting there, warm and comfortable, a fellow felt like going to sleep; +but Fitzpatrick was all eyes and ears, and I tried to be the same, as a +Scout should. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE NIGHT ATTACK + + +We must have been squatting for an hour and a half, and the sun was down +close to the top of the draw, behind us, when Fitzpatrick nudged me with +his foot, and nodded. He made the sign of birds flying up and pointed +down the trail, below, us; so that I knew somebody was coming, around a +turn there. (Note 13.) We scarcely breathed. We just sat and watched, +like two mountain lions waiting. + +Pretty soon they came riding along--four of them on horseback; we knew +the horses. The fellows were Bill Duane, Mike Delavan, Tony Matthews, +and Bert Hawley. They were laughing and talking because the trail we +made was plain and they thought that we all were pushing right on, and +if they could read sign they would know that the tracks were not extra +fresh. + +We let them get out of sight; then we went straight down upon the trail, +and followed, alongside, so as not to step on top of their tracks and +show that we had come after. + +We talked only by sign, and trailed slow, because they might be +listening or looking back. We wanted to find where they stopped. At +every turn we sneaked and Fitzpatrick stuck just his head around, to see +that the trail was clear. Suddenly he made sign to me that he saw them; +there were three on horseback, waiting, and one had gone on, walking, to +reconnoiter. + +So we had to back-trail until we could make a big circle and strike the +trail on ahead. This wasn't open country here; there were cedars and +pinyons and big rocks. We circuited up and around, out of sight from the +trail, and came in, bending low and walking carefully so as not to crack +sticks, to listen and examine for sign. We found strange tracks--soles +without hob-nails, pointing one way but not coming back. We hid behind a +cedar, and waited. In about fifteen minutes Bill Duane walked right past +us, back to the other fellows. + +Now we hurried on, for it was getting dark; and soon we smelled smoke, +and that meant camp. Fitzpatrick (who was a first-class Scout, while I +was only a second) reported to General Ashley the whereabouts of the +enemy. + +"Very well," said General Ashley. "Corporal Andrew Henry (that was Tom +Scott) and Second-class Scout Jed Smith (that was Dick Smith) will go +back a quarter of a mile and picket the trail until relieved; the rest +of us will proceed with camp duties." + +Major Henry and little Jed Smith set off. We finished establishing camp. +Two holes were dug for camp refuse; that was my business. Places for the +beds were cleared of sticks and things; that was Kit Carson's business. +General Ashley chopped a cedar stump for wood (cedar burns without soot, +you know); and Fitzpatrick cooked. The burros had been unpacked and the +flags planted before Fitzpatrick and I came in. We had to picket the +burros out, to graze, at first, or they might have gone back to town. Of +course, as we were short-handed, we had to do Henry's and Smith's work, +to-night, too: spread the beds before dark and bring water and such +things. (Note 14.) + +For supper we had bacon and two cans of the beans and biscuits baked in +a reflector, and coffee. (Note 15.) Major Henry and Jed Smith were not +getting any supper yet, because they were still on picket duty. But when +we were through General Ashley said, "Kit Carson, you and Jim Bridger +relieve Henry and Smith, and tell them to come in to supper." + +But just as we stood, to start, Major Henry walked in amongst us. He was +excited, and puffing, and he almost forgot to salute General Ashley, who +was Patrol leader. + +"They're planning to come!" he puffed. "I sneaked close to them and +heard 'em talking!" + +"Is this meant for a report?" asked General Ashley. And we others +snickered. It wasn't the right way to make a report. + +"Yes, sir," answered Henry. "That is, I reconnoitered the enemy's camp, +sir, and they're talking about us." + +"What did you hear?" + +"They're going to rush us when we're asleep, and scare us." + +"Very well," said General Ashley. "But you weren't ordered to do that. +You left your post, sir." + +"I thought you'd like to know. They didn't hear me," stammered Major +Henry. + +"You'd no business to go, just the same. Orders are orders. Where is +Smith?" + +"Watching on picket." + +"Did he go, too?" + +"No, sir." + +"You exceeded orders, and you ought to be court-martialed," said General +Ashley. And he was right, too. "But I'll give you another chance. When +is the enemy going to attack?" + +"After we're asleep." + +"What is he doing now?" + +"Eating and smoking and waiting, down the trail." + +"You can have some coffee and beans and bread, while we hold council. +Carson and Bridger can wait a minute." + +The council didn't take long. General Ashley's plan was splendid, a joke +and a counter-attack in one. Major Henry ate as much as he could, but he +wasn't filled up when he was sent out again, into the dark, with Kit +Carson. They were ordered to tell Jed Smith to come in, but they were to +go on. You'll see what happened. This double duty was Henry's +punishment. + +We cleaned up the camp, and then Jed Smith arrived. While he was eating +we made the beds. We drew up the tarpaulins, over blankets and quilts +rolled so that the beds looked exactly as if we were in them, our feet +to the fire (it was a little fire, of course) and our heads in shadow. +We tied the burros short; and then we went back into the cedars and +pinyons and sat down, quiet. + +It wasn't pitchy dark. When the sky is clear it never gets pitchy dark, +in the open; and there was a quarter-moon shining, too. The night was +very still. The breeze just rustled the trees, but we could hear our +hearts beat. Once, about a mile away, a coyote barked like a crazy +puppy. He was calling for company. The stars twinkled down through the +stiff branches, and I tried to see the Great Dipper, but that took too +much squirming around. + +We must not say a word, nor even whisper. We must just keep quiet, and +listen and wait. Down the trail poor Major Henry and Kit Carson were +having a harder time of it--but I would have liked to be along. + +All of a sudden Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand nudged me gently with his +knuckles, and I nudged Jed Smith, and Jed passed it on, and it went +around from one to the other, so we all knew. Somebody was coming! We +could hear a stick snap, and a little laugh, off in the timber; it +sounded as though somebody had run into a branch. We waited. The enemy +was stealing upon our camp. We hid our faces in our coats and our hands +in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting, sitting +this way, waiting for the attack. + +The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them +peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like +Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us--or what they thought was us. +They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to +scare us stiff with the noise--but you ought to have seen how quick they +quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It +was funny--and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they +stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again. + +"They aren't here," said Bill Duane. At a nudge from General Ashley we +had deployed, running low and swift, right and left. + +"Poke the fire, so we can see," said Bert Hawley. + +One of them did, so the fire blazed up--which was just what we wanted. +Now they were inside and we were outside. They began to talk. + +"We'll pile up the camp, anyway." + +"They're around somewhere." + +"Let's take their burros." + +"Take their flags." + +Then General Ashley spoke up. + +"No, you don't!" he said. "You let those things alone." + +That voice, coming out of the darkness around, must have made them jump, +and for a minute they didn't know what to do. Then-- + +"Why?" asked Bill Duane, kind of defiantly. + +"Wait a moment and we'll show you," answered General Ashley. + +He whistled loud, our Scouts' signal whistle; and off down the trail +Major Henry or Kit Carson whistled back, and added the whistle that +meant "All right." (Note 16.) + +"Hear that?" asked General Ashley. "That means we've got your horses!" + +Hurrah! So we had. You see, Major Henry and Kit Carson had been sent +back to watch the enemy's camp; and when the gang had left, on foot, to +surprise us, our two scouts had gone in and captured the horses. We +couldn't help but whoop and yell a little, in triumph. But General +Ashley ordered "Silence!" and we quit. + +"Aw, we were just fooling," said Tony Matthews. They talked together, +low, for a few moments; and Bill called: "Come on in. We won't hurt +you." + +"Of course you won't," said General Ashley. "But _we_ aren't fooling. We +mean business. We'll keep the horses until you've promised to clear out +and let this camp alone." + +"We don't want the horses. Two of 'em are hired and the longer you keep +them the more you'll have to pay." That was a lie. They didn't hire +horses. They borrowed. + +"We can sleep here very comfortably, kid," said Mike Delavan. + +"You'll not get much sleep in those beds," retorted General Ashley. +"Will they, boys!" + +And we all laughed and said "No!" + +"And after they've walked ten miles back to town, we'll bring in the +horses and tell how we took them." + +The enemy talked together low, again. + +"All right," said Bill Duane. "You give us our horses and we'll let the +camp alone." + +"Do you promise?" asked General Ashley. + +"Yes; didn't I say so?" + +"Do you, Mike?" + +"Sure; if you return those horses." + +"Do you, Tony and Bert?" + +"Uh huh." + +That was the best way--to make each promise separately; for some one of +them might have claimed that he hadn't promised with the rest. + +"Then go on down the trail, and you'll find the horses where you left +them." + +"How do we know?" + +"On the honor of a Scout," said General Ashley. "We won't try any +tricks, and don't you, for we'll be watching you until you start for +town." + +They grumbled back, and with Bill Duane in the lead stumbled for the +trail. General Ashley whistled the signal agreed upon, for Major Henry +and Kit Carson to tie the horses and to withdraw. We might have followed +the enemy; but we would have risked dividing our forces too much and +leaving the camp. We were safer here. + +So we waited, quiet; and after a time somebody signaled with the whistle +of the patrol. It was Kit Carson. + +"They've gone, sir," he reported, when General Ashley called him. + +"What did they say?" + +"They're mad; but they're going into town and they'll get back at us +later." + +"You saw them start, did you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Where's Henry?" + +"Waiting to see if they turn or anything." + +"They won't. They know we'll be ready for them. Shall we move camp, or +post sentries, boys?" + +We voted to post sentries. It seemed an awful job to move camp, at this +time of night, and make beds over again, and all that. It was only ten +o'clock by General Ashley's watch, but it felt later. So we built up the +fire, and set some coffee on, and called Major Henry in, and General +Ashley and Jed Smith took the first spell of two hours; then they were +to wake up Fitzpatrick and me, for the next two hours; and Major Henry +and Kit Carson would watch from two till four, when it would be growing +light. But we didn't have any more trouble that night. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE BIG TROUT + + +It was mighty hard work, turning out at five o'clock in the morning. +That was regulations, while on the march--to get up at five. The ones +who didn't turn out promptly had to do the dirty work--police the camp, +which is to clean it, you know. + +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand cooked; I helped, by opening packages, +preparing potatoes (if we had them), tending fire, etc.; Major Henry +chopped wood; Kit Carson and little Jed Smith looked after the burros, +Apache and Sally, and scouted in a circle for hostile sign; General +Ashley put the bedding in shape to pack. + +But first it was regulations to take a cold wet rub when we were near +water. It made us glow and kept us in good shape. Then we brushed our +teeth and combed our hair. (Note 17.) After breakfast we policed the +camp, and dumped everything into a hole, or burned it, so that we left +the place just about as we had found it. We stamped out the fire, or put +dirt and water on it, of course. Then we packed the burros. General +Ashley, Jed Smith, and Kit Carson packed Sally; Major Henry, Thomas +Fitzpatrick, and I packed Apache. And by six-thirty we were on our way. + +This morning we kept on up Ute Creek. It had its rise in Gray Bull +Basin, at the foot of old Pilot Peak, about forty miles away. We thought +we could make Gray Bull Basin in three days. Ten or twelve miles a day, +with burros, on the trail, up-hill all the way, is about as fast as +Scouts like us can keep going. Beyond Gray Bull we would have to find +our own trail over Pilot Peak. + +Everything was fine, this morning. Birds were hopping among the cedars +and spruces, and in some places the ground was red with wild +strawberries. Pine squirrels scolded at us, and we saw two rabbits; but +we didn't stop to shoot them. We had bacon, and could catch trout higher +up the creek. Here were some beaver dams, and around the first dam lived +a big trout that nobody had been able to land. The beaver dams were +famous camping places for parties who could go this far, and everybody +claimed to have hooked the big trout and to have lost him again. He was +a native Rocky Mountain trout, and weighed four pounds--but he was +educated. He wouldn't be caught. He had only one eye; that was how +people knew him. + +We didn't count upon that big trout, but we rather counted upon some +smaller ones; and anyway we must hustle on and put those ten miles +behind us before the enemy got in touch with us again. Our business was +to carry that message through, and not to stop and hunt or lose time +over uncalled-for things. + +The creek foamed and rushed; its water was amber, as if stained by pine +needles. Sometimes it ran among big bowlders, and sometimes it was +crossed by fallen trees. Thomas Fitzpatrick picked up a beaver cutting. +That was an aspen stick (beavers like aspen and willow bark best) about +as large as your wrist and two feet long. It was green and the ends were +fresh, so there were beavers above us. And it wasn't water-soaked, so +that it could not have been cut and in the water very long. We were +getting close. + +We traveled right along, and the country grew rougher. There were many +high bowlders, and we came to a canyon where the creek had cut between +great walls like a crack. There was no use in trying to go through this +canyon; the trail had faded out, and we were about to oblique off up the +hill on our side of the creek, to go around and strike the creek above +the canyon, when Kit Carson saw something caught on a brush-heap half in +the water, at the mouth of the canyon. + +It was a chain. He leaned out and took hold of the chain, and drew it in +to shore. On the other end was a trap, and in the trap was a beaver. The +chain was not tied to the brush; it had just caught there, so it must +have been washed down. Then up above somebody was trapping beaver, which +was against the law. The beaver was in pretty bad condition. He must +have been drowned for a week or more. The trap had no brand on it. +Usually traps are branded on the pan, but this wasn't and that went to +show that whoever was trapping knew better. The sight of that beaver, +killed uselessly, made us sick and mad both. But we couldn't do anything +about it, except to dig a hole and bury trap and all, so that the creek +would wash clean, as it ought to be. Then we climbed up the steep hill, +over rocks and flowers, and on top followed a ridge, until ahead we saw +the creek again. It was in a little meadow here, and down we went for +it. + +This was a beautiful spot. On one side the pines and spruces covered a +long slope which rose on and on until above timber line it was bare and +reddish gray; and away up were patches of snow; and beyond was the tip +of Pilot Peak. But on our side a forest fire had burned out the timber, +leaving only black stumps sticking up, with the ground covered by a new +growth of bushes. There was quite a difference between the two sides; +and we camped where we were, on the bare side, which was the safest for +a camp fire. It would have been a shame to spoil the other side, too. + +We were tired, after being up part of the night and climbing all the +morning, and this was a good place to stop. Plenty of dry wood, plenty +of water, and space to spread our beds. + +The creek was smooth and wide, here, about the middle of the park. The +beaver had been damming it. But although we looked about, after locating +camp and unpacking the burros, we couldn't find a fresh sign. We came +upon camp sign, though, two days old, at least. Somebody had trapped +every beaver and then had left. + +That seemed mean, because it was against the law to trap beaver, and +here they weren't doing any harm. But the fire had laid waste one shore +of the pond, and animal killers had laid waste the pond itself. + +We decided to have a big meal. There ought to be wild raspberries in +this burnt timber; wild raspberries always follow a forest fire--and +that is a queer thing, isn't it? So, after camp was laid out (which is +the first thing to do), and our flags set up, while Fitzpatrick the Bad +Hand and Major Henry built a fire and got things ready for dinner, +General Ashley and Kit Carson went after berries and little Jed Smith +and I were detailed to catch trout. + +We had lines and hooks, but we didn't bother to pack rods, because you +almost always can get willows. (Note 18.) Some fellows would have cut +green willows, because they bend. We knew better. We cut a dead willow +apiece. We were after meat, and not just sport; and when we had a trout +bite we wanted to yank him right out. A stiff, dead willow will do that. +Grasshoppers were whirring around, among the dried trunks and the grass. +That is what grasshoppers like, a place where it's hot and open. As a +rule you get bigger fish with bait than you do with a fly, so we put on +grasshoppers. I hate sticking a hook into a grasshopper, or a worm +either; and we killed our grasshoppers quick by smashing their heads +before we hooked them. + +It was going to be hard work, catching trout around this beaver pond. +The water was wide and smooth and shallow and clear, and a trout would +see you coming. When a trout knows that you are about, then the game is +off. Besides, lots of people had been fishing the pond, and the beaver +hunters must have been fishing it lately, according to sign. But that +made it all the more exciting. Little trout are caught easily, and the +big ones are left for the person who can outwit them. + +After we were ready, we reconnoitered. We sat down and studied to see +where we'd prefer to be if we were a big trout. A big trout usually +doesn't prowl about much. He gets a lair, in a hole or under a bank, and +stays close, eating whatever comes his way, and chasing out all the +smaller trout. Sometimes he swims into the ripples, to feed; but back he +goes to his lair again. + +So we studied the situation. There was no use in wading about, or +shaking the banks, and scaring trout, unless we had a plan. It looked to +me that if I were a big trout I'd be in a shady spot over across, where +the water swept around a low place of the dam and made a black eddy +under the branches of a spruce. Jed Smith said all right, I could try +that, and he would try where the bank on our side stuck out over the +water a little. + +I figured that my hole would be fished by about everybody from the +water. Most persons would wade across, and cast up-stream to the edge of +it; and if a trout was still there he would be watching out for that. So +the way to surprise him would be to sneak on him from a new direction. I +went down below, and crossed (over my boot-tops) to the other side, and +followed up through the timber. + +I had to crawl under the spruce--and I was mighty careful not to shake +the ground or to make any noise, for we needed fish. Nobody had been to +the hole from this direction; it was too hard work. By reaching out with +my pole I could just flip the hopper into the water. I tried twice; and +the second time I landed him right in the swirl. He hadn't floated an +inch when a yellowish thing calmly rose under him and he was gone! + +I jerked up with the willow, and the line tightened and began to tug. I +knew by the color and the way he swallowed the hopper without any fuss +that he was a king trout, and if I didn't haul him right in he'd break +the pole or tear loose. I shortened pole like lightning and grabbed the +line; but it got tangled in the branches of the spruce, and the trout +was hung up with just his nose out of water. + +Jiminy! but he was making the spray fly. He looked as big as a beaver, +and the hook was caught in the very edge of his lip. That made me hurry. +In a moment he'd be away. I suppose I leaned out too far, to grab the +line again, or to get him by the gills, for I slipped and dived +headfirst into the hole. + +Whew, but the water was cold! It took my breath--but I didn't care. All +I feared was that now I'd lost the fish. He weighed four pounds, by this +time, I was sure. As soon as I could stand and open my eyes I looked for +him. When I had dived in I must have shaken loose the line, for it was +under water again, and part of the pole, too. I sprawled for the pole +and grabbed it as it was sliding out. The line tightened. The trout was +still on. + +Now I must rustle for the shore. So I did, paying out the pole behind me +so as not to tear the hook free; and the minute I scrambled knee-deep, +with a big swing I hustled that trout in and landed him in the brush +just as he flopped off! + +I tell you, I was glad. Some persons would have wanted a reel and light +tackle, to play him--but we were after meat. + +"I've got one--a big one!" I yelled, across to where Jed Smith was. + +"So have I!" yelled little Jed back. + +I had picked my trout up. He wasn't so awful big, after all; only about +fifteen inches long, which means two pounds. He was an Eastern brook +trout. They grow larger in the cold water of the West than they do in +their own homes. But I looked for Jed--and then dropped my trout and +waded over to help _him_. + +He was out in the water, up to his waist, and something was jerking him +right along. + +"I can't get him out!" he called, as I was coming. "How big is yours?" + +"Fifteen inches." + +"This one's as big as I am--big native!" And you should have heard Jed +grunt, as the line just surged around, in the current. + +"Want any help?" I asked. + +"Uh uh. If he can lick me, then he ought to get away." + +"Where'd you catch him?" + +"Against the bank." + +"Swing him down the current and then lift him right in shore!" + +"Look out he doesn't tear loose!" + +"He'll break that pole!" + +Fitzpatrick and Major Henry were yelling at us from the fire; and then +Jed stubbed his toe on a rock and fell flat. He didn't let the pole go, +though. He came up sputtering and he was as wet as I. + +"Swing him down and then lift him right in!" kept shouting Fitz and +Major Henry. That was the best plan. + +"All right," answered Jed. "You take the pole and start him," he said to +me. "I'd have to haul him against the current." I was below him, of +course, so as to head the trout up-stream. + +He tossed the butt at me and I caught it. That was generous of Jed--to +let me get the fish out, when he'd been the one to hook it. But we were +Scouts together, and we were after meat for all, not glory for one. + +I took the pole and with a swing downstream kept Mr. Trout going until +he shot out to the edge of the pond, and there Fitz tumbled on top of +him and grabbed him with one hand by the gills. + +When we held him up we gave our Patrol yell: + + B. S. A.! B. S. A.! + Elks! Elks! Hoo-ray! + Oooooooooooo! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BEAVER MAN + + +For he was a great one, that trout! He was the big fellow that everybody +had been after, because he was twenty-six inches long and weighed four +pounds and had only one eye! That was good woodcraft, for a boy twelve +years old to sneak up on him and catch him with a willow pole and a line +tied fast and a grasshopper, when regular fishermen with fine outfits +had been trying right along. Of course they'll say we didn't give him +any show--but after he was hooked there was no use in torturing him. The +hooking is the principal part. + +Jed showed us how he had worked. He hadn't raised anything in the first +hole, by the bank, and he had gone on to another place that looked good. +Lots of people had fished this second place; there was a regular path to +it through the weeds, on the shore side; and below it, along the +shallows, the mud was full of tracks. But Jed had been smart. A trout +usually lies with his head up-stream, so as to gobble whatever comes +down. But here the current set in with a back-action, so that it made a +little eddy right against the bank--and a trout in that particular spot +would have his nose _downstream_. So Jed fished from the direction +opposite to that from which other persons had fished. He went around, +and approached from up-stream, awfully careful not to make any noise or +raise any settlings. Then he reached far and bounced his hopper from the +bank into the edge--as if it had fallen of itself--and it was gobbled +quick as a wink and the old trout pulled Jed in, too. + +So in fishing as in other scouting, I guess, you ought to do what the +enemy isn't expecting you to do. + +My trout was just a minnow beside of Jed's; and the two of them were all +we could eat, so we quit; Jed and I stripped off our wet clothes and +took a rub with a towel and sat in dry underclothes, while the wet stuff +was hung up in the sun. We felt fine. + +That was a great dinner. We rolled the trout in mud and baked them +whole. And we had fried potatoes, hot bread (or what people would call +biscuits), and wild raspberries with condensed milk. General Ashley and +Kit Carson had brought in a bucket of them. They were thick, back in the +burnt timber, and were just getting ripe. + +After the big dinner and the washing of the dishes we lay around +resting. Jed Smith and I couldn't do much until our clothes were dry. We +stuffed our boots with some newspapers we had, to help them dry. (Note +19.) While we were resting, Fitzpatrick made our "Sh!" sign which said +"Watch out! Danger!" and with his hand by his side pointed across the +beaver pond. + +We looked, with our eyes but not moving, so as not to attract attention. +Yes, a man had stepped out to the edge of the timber, at the upper end +of the pond and across, and was standing. Maybe he thought we didn't see +him, but we did. And he saw us, too; for after a moment he stepped back +again, and was gone. He had on a black slouch hat. He wasn't a large +man. + +We pretended not to have noticed him, until we were certain that he +wasn't spying from some other point. Then General Ashley spoke, in a low +tone: "He acted suspicious. We ought to reconnoiter. Scouts Fitzpatrick +and Bridger will circle around the upper end of the pond, and Scout Kit +Carson and I will circle the lower. Scouts Corporal Henry and Jed Smith +will guard camp." + +My boots were still wet, but I didn't mind. So we started off, in pairs, +which was the right way, Fitz and I for the upper end of the pond. I +carried a pole, as if we were going fishing, and we didn't hurry. We +sauntered through the brush, and where the creek was narrow we crossed +on some rocks, and followed the opposite shore down, a few yards back, +so as to cut the spy's tracks. I might not have found them, among the +spruce needles; but Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand did. He found a heel mark, +and by stooping down and looking along we could see a line where the +needles had been kicked up, to the shore. Marks show better, sometimes, +when you look this way, along the ground; but we could have followed, +anyhow, I think. + +The footprints were plain in the soft sand; if he had stood back a +little further, and had been more careful where he stepped, we might not +have found the tracks so easily; but he had stepped on some soft sand +and mud. We knew that he was not a large man, because we had seen him; +and we didn't believe that he was a prospector or a miner, because his +soles were not hobbed--or a cow-puncher, because he had no high heels to +sink in; he may have been a rancher, out looking about. + +"He must be left-handed," said Fitz. + +"Why?" I asked. + +"Because, see?" and then he told me. + +Sure enough. That was smart of Fitz, I thought. But he's splendid to +read sign. + +Now we followed the tracks back. The man had come down and had returned +by the same route. And up in the timber about fifty yards he had had a +horse. We read how he had been riding through, and had stopped, and got +off and walked down to the pond, and stood, and walked back and mounted +again and ridden on. All that was easy for Fitz, and I could read most +of it myself. + +We trailed the horse until the tracks surely went away from the pond +into the timber country; then we let it go, and met General Ashley, to +report. General Ashley and Kit Carson also examined the prints in the +sand, and we all agreed that the man probably was left-handed. + +Now, why had he come down to the edge of the pond, on purpose, and +looked at it and at us, and then turned up at a trot into the timber? It +would seem as if he might have been afraid that we had seen him, and he +didn't want to be seen. But all our guesses here and after we reached +camp again didn't amount to much, of course. + +We decided to stay for the night. It was a good camp place, and we +wouldn't gain anything, maybe, by starting on, near night, and getting +caught in the timber in the dark. And this would give the burros a good +rest and a fill-up before their climb. + +The burned stretch where we were was plumb full of live things--striped +chipmunks, and pine squirrels, and woodpecker families. Fitzpatrick +started in to take chipmunk pictures--and you ought to see how he can +manage a camera with one hand. He holds it between his knees or else +under his left arm, to draw the bellows out, and the rest is easy. + +He scouted about and got some pictures of chipmunks real close, by +waiting, and a picture of a woodpecker feeding young ones, at a hole in +a dead pine stump. This was a good place for bear to come, after the +berries; and we were hoping that one would amble in while we were there +so that Fitz could take a picture of it, too. Bears don't hurt people +unless people try to hurt them; and a bear would sooner have raspberries +than have a man or boy, any day. Fitzpatrick thought that if he could +get a good picture of a bear, out in the open, that would bring him a +Scout's honor. Of course, chipmunk pictures help, too. But while we were +resting and fooling and taking pictures, and General Ashley was bringing +his diary and his map up to date, for record, we had another visitor. +(Note 20.) + +A man came riding a dark bay horse, with white nose and white right fore +foot, along our side of the beaver pond, and halted at our camp. The +horse had left ear swallow-tailed and was branded with a Diamond Five on +the right shoulder. The man wasn't the man we had seen across the pond, +for he wore a sombrero, and was taller and had on overalls, and +cow-puncher boots. + +[Illustration] + +"Howdy?" he said. + +"How are you?" we answered. + +He sort of lazily dismounted, and yawned--but his sharp eyes were taking +us and our camp all in. + +"Out fishing?" he asked. + +"No, sir. Passing through," said General Ashley. + +"Going far?" + +"Over to Green Valley." + +"Walking?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Good place for beaver, isn't it?" + +"A bad place." + +"That so? Used to be some about here. Couldn't catch any, eh?" + +"We aren't trying. But it seems a bad place for beaver because the only +one we have seen is a dead one in a trap." + +The man waked up. "Whose trap?" + +"We don't know." And the general went on to explain. + +The man nodded. "I'm a deputy game warden," he said at last. "Somebody's +been trapping beaver in here, and it's got to stop. Haven't seen any one +pass through?" + +We had. The general reported. + +"Smallish man?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Roan hoss branded quarter circle D on the left hip? Brass-bound +stirrups?" + +"We didn't see the horse; but we think the man was left-handed," said +the general. + +"Why?" + +"He was left-footed, because there was a hole in the sole of the left +shoe, and that would look as though he used his left foot more than his +right. So we think he may be left-handed, too." (Note 21.) + +The game warden grunted. He eyed our flag. + +"You kids must be regular Boy Scouts." + +"We are." + +"Then I reckon you aren't catching any beaver. All right, I'll look for +a left-footed man, maybe left-handed. But it's this fellow on the roan +hoss I'm after. He's been trying to sell pelts. There's no use my +trailing him, to-day. But I'll send word ahead, and if you lads run +across him let somebody know. Where are you bound for?" + +The general told him. + +"By way of Pilot Peak?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I'll tell you a short cut. You see that strip of young timber +running up over the ridge? That's an old survey trail. It crosses to the +other side. Over beyond you'll strike Dixon's Park and a ruined +saw-mill. After that you can follow up Dixon's Creek." + +We thanked him and he mounted and rode away. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +TWO RECRUITS + + +When we got up in the morning, the mountains still had their night-caps +on. White mist was floating low about their tips, and lying in the +gulches like streams and lakes. Above timber-line, opposite us, was a +long layer of cloud, with the top of old Pilot Peak sticking through. + +This was a weather sign, although the sun rose clear and the sky was +blue. Nightcaps are apt to mean a showery day. (Note 22.) We took our +wet rub, ate breakfast, policed the camp and killed the fire, and +General Ashley put camphor and cotton against little Jed Smith's back +tooth, to stop some aching. Maybe there was a hole in the tooth, or +maybe Jed had just caught cold in it, after being wet; but he ought to +have had his teeth looked into before he started out on the scout. +(Note 23.) Anyway, the camphor stopped the ache--and made him dance, +too. + +We crossed the creek, above the beaver pond, and struck off into the old +survey trail that cut over the ridge. The brush was thick, and the trees +had sprung up again, so that really it wasn't a regular trail unless +you had known about it. The blazes on the side trees had closed over. +But all the same, by watching the scars, and by keeping in the line +where the trees always opened out, and by watching the sky as it showed +before, we followed right along. + +After we had been traveling about two hours, we heard thunder and that +made us hustle the more, to get out of the thin timber, so that we would +not be struck by lightning. (Note 24.) The wind moaned through the +trees. The rain was coming, sure. + +The trail was diagonally up-hill, all the way, and if we had been +cigarette smokers we wouldn't have had breath enough to hit the fast +pace that General Ashley set. The burros had to trot, and it made little +Jed Smith, who is kind of fat, wheeze; but we stuck it out and came to a +flat place of short dried grass and bushes, with no trees. Here we +stopped. We were about nine thousand feet up. + +From where we were we could see the storm. It was flowing down along a +bald-top mountain back from our camp at the beaver pond, and looked like +gray smoke. The sun was just being swallowed. Well, all we could do was +to wait and take it, and see how bad it was. We tied Sally and Apache to +some bushes, but we didn't unpack them, of course. The tarps on top +would keep the grub from getting wet. + +The storm made a grand sight, as it rolled toward us, over the timber. +And soon it was raining below us, down at the beaver pond--and then, +with a drizzle and a spatter, the rain reached us, too. + +We sat hunched, under our hats, and took it. We might have got under +blankets--but that would have given us soaked blankets for night, unless +we had stretched the tarps, too; and if we had stretched the tarps then +the rest of our packs would have suffered. The best way is to crawl +under a spruce, where the limbs have grown close to the ground. But not +in a thunder storm. And it is better to be wet yourself and have a dry +camp for night, than to be dry yourself and have a wet camp for night. + +Anyway, the rain didn't hurt us. While it thundered and lightened and +the drops pelted us well, we sang our Patrol song--which is a song like +one used by the Black feet Indians: + + "The Elk is our Medicine, + He makes us very strong. + The Elk is our Medicine, + The Elk is our Medicine, + The Elk is our Medicine, + He makes us very strong. + Ooooooooooooooooooooooo!" + +And when the thunder boomed we sang at it: + + "The _Thunder_ is our Medicine--" + +to show that we weren't afraid of it. + +The squall passed on over us, and when it had about quit we untied the +burros and started on again. In just a minute we were warm and sweating +and could shed our coats; and the sun came out hot to dry us off. + +We crossed the ridge, and on the other side we saw Dixon's Park. We knew +it was Dixon's Park, because the timber had been cut from it, and +Dixon's Park had had a saw-mill twenty years ago. + +Once this park had been grown over with trees, like the side of the +ridge where we had been climbing; but that saw-mill had felled +everything in sight, so that now there were only old stumps and dead +logs. It looked like a graveyard. If the mill had been watched, as most +mills are to-day, and had been made to leave part of the trees, then the +timber would have grown again. + +Down through the graveyard we went, and stopped for nooning at the +little creek which ran through the bottom. There weren't any fish in +this creek; the mill had killed the timber, and it had driven out the +fish with sawdust. It was just a dead place, and there didn't seem to be +even chipmunks. + +We had nooning at the ruins of the mill. Tin cans and old boot soles and +rusted pipe were still scattered about. We were a little tired, and more +rain was coming, so we made a fire by finding dry wood underneath slabs +and things, and had tea and bread and butter. That rested us. Little +Jed Smith was only twelve years old, and we had to travel to suit him +and not just to suit us bigger boys. I'm fourteen and Major Henry is +sixteen. All the afternoon was showery; first we were dry, then we were +wet; and there wasn't much fun about sloshing and slipping along; but we +pegged away, and climbed out of Dixon's Park to the ridge beyond it. Now +we could see old Pilot Peak plain, and keeping to the high ground we +made for it. It didn't look to be very far away; but we didn't know, +now, all the things that lay between. + +The top of this ridge was flat, and the forest reserve people had been +through and piled up the brush, so that a fire would not spread easily. +That made traveling good, and we hiked our best. Down in a gulch beside +us there was a stream: Dixon's Creek. But we kept to the high ground, +with our eyes open for a good camping spot, for the dark would close in +early if the rain did not quit. And nobody can pick a good camping place +in the dark. + +Regular rest means a great deal when you are traveling across country. +Even cowboys will tell you that. They bed down as comfortably as they +can, every time, on the round-up. + +After a while we came to a circular little spot, hard and flat, where +the timber had opened out. And General Ashley stopped and with a whirl +dug in his heel as sign that we would camp here. There was wood and +drainage and grass for the burros, and no danger of setting fire to the +trees if we made a big fire. We had to carry water up from the creek +below, but that was nothing. + +Now we must hustle and get the camp in shape quick, before the things +get wet. While Fitzpatrick picked out a spot for his fire and Major +Henry chopped wood, two of us unpacked each burro. We put the things +under a tarp, and I started to bring up the water, but General Ashley +spoke. + +"We're out of meat," he said. "You take the rifle and shoot a couple of +rabbits. There ought to be rabbits about after the rain." + +This suited me. He handed me the twenty-two rifle and five cartridges; +out of those five cartridges I knew I could get two rabbits or else I +wasn't any good as a hunter. The sun was shining once more, and the +shadows were long in the timber, so I turned to hunt against the sun, +and put my shadow behind me. Of course, that wouldn't make _very_ much +difference, because rabbits usually see you before you see them; but I +was out after meat and must not miss any chances. There always is a +right way and a wrong way. + +This was a splendid time to hunt for rabbits, right after a rain. They +come out then before dark, and nibble about. And you can walk on the +wetness without much noise. Early morning and the evening are the best +rabbit hours, anyway. + +I walked quick and straight-footed, looking far ahead, and right and +left, through the timber, to sight whatever moved. Yet I might be +passing close to a rabbit, without seeing him, for he would be +squatting. So I looked behind, too. And after I had walked about twenty +minutes, I did see a rabbit. He was hopping, at one side, through the +bushes; he gave only about three hops, and squatted, to let me pass. So +I stopped stock-still, and drew up my rifle. He was about thirty yards +away, and was just a bunch like a stone; but I held my breath and aimed +at where his ears joined his head, and fired quick. He just kicked a +little. That was a pretty good shot and I was glad, for I didn't want to +hurt him and we had to have meat. + +I hunted quite a while before I saw another rabbit. The next one was a +big old buck rabbit, because his hind quarters around his tail were +brown; young rabbits are white there. He hopped off, without stopping, +and I whistled at him--wheet! Then he stopped, and I missed him. I shot +over him, because I was in a hurry. I went across and saw where the +bullet had hit. And he had ducked. + +He hopped out of sight, through the brush; so I must figure where he +probably would go. On beyond was a hilly place, with rocks, and probably +he lived here--and rabbits usually make up-hill when they're +frightened. So I took a circle, to cut him off; and soon he hopped again +and squatted. This time I shot him through the head, where I aimed; so I +didn't hurt him, either. I picked him up and was starting back for camp, +because two rabbits were enough, when I heard somebody shouting. It +didn't sound like a Scout's shout, but I answered and waited and kept +answering, and in a few minutes a strange boy came running and walking +fast through the trees. He carried a single-barrel shotgun. + +He never would have seen me if I hadn't spoken; but when he wasn't more +than ten feet from me I said: "What's the matter?" + +He jumped and saw me standing. "Hello," he panted. "Was it you who was +shooting and calling?" + +"Yes." + +"Why didn't you come on, then?" he scolded. He was angry. + +"Because you were coming," I said. "I stood still and called back, to +guide you." + +"What did you shoot at?" + +"Rabbits." + +He hadn't seen them before, but now he saw them on the ground. "Aw, +jiminy!" he exclaimed. "We've got something better than that, but we +can't make a fire and our matches are all wet and so are our blankets, +and we don't know what to do. There's another fellow with me. We're +lost." + +He was a sight; wet and dirty and sweaty from running, and scared. + +"What are you doing? Camping?" I asked. + +He nodded. "We started for Duck Lake, with nothing but blankets and what +grub we could carry; but we got to chasing around and we missed the +trail and now we don't know where we are. Gee, but we're wet and cold. +Where's your camp?" + +"Back on the ridge." + +"Got a fire?" + +"Uh huh," I nodded. "Sure." + +"Come on," he said. "We'll go and get the other fellow and then we'll +camp near you so as to have some fire." + +"All right," I said. + +He led off, and I picked up the rabbits and followed. He kept hooting, +and the other boy answered, and we went down into the gulch where the +creek flowed. Now, that was the dickens of a place to camp! Anybody +ought to know better than to camp down at the bottom of a narrow gulch, +where it is damp and nasty and dark. They did it because it was beside +the water, and because there was some soft grass that they could lie on. +(Note 25.) + +The other boy was about seventeen, and was huddled in a blanket, trying +to scratch a match and light wet paper. He wore a big Colt's +six-shooter on a cartridge belt about his waist. + +"Come out, Bat," called the boy with me. "Here's a kid from another +camp, where they have fire and things." + +Bat grunted, and they gathered their blankets and a frying-pan and other +stuff. + +"Lookee! This beats rabbit," said the first boy (his name was Walt); and +he showed me what they had killed. It was four grouse! + +Now, that was mean. + +"It's against the law to kill grouse yet," I told him. + +"Aw, what do we care?" he answered. "Nobody knows." + +"It's only a week before the season opens, anyhow," spoke Bat. "We got +the old mother and all her chickens. If we hadn't, somebody would, +later." + +Fellows like that are as bad as a forest fire. Just because of them, +laws are made, and they break them and the rest of us keep them. + +We climbed out of the gulch, and I was so mad I let them carry their own +things. The woods were dusky, and I laid a straight course for camp. It +was easy to find, because I knew that I had hunted with my back to it, +in sound of the water on my left. All we had to do was to follow through +the ridge with the water on our right, and listen for voices. + +I tell you, that camp looked good. The boys had two fires, a big one to +dry us by and a little one to cook by. (Note 26.) One of the tarps had +been laid over a pole in crotched stakes, about four feet high, and tied +down at the ends (Note 27), for a dog-tent, and spruce trimmings and +brush had been piled behind for a wind-break and to reflect the heat. +Inside were the spruce needles that carpeted the ground and had been +kept dry by branches, and a second tarp had been laid to sleep on, with +the third tarp to cover us, on top of the blankets. The flags had been +set up. Fitzpatrick was cooking, Major Henry was dragging more wood to +burn, the fellows were drying damp stuff and stacking it safe under the +panniers, or else with their feet to the big blaze were drying +themselves, the burros were grazing close in. It was as light as day, +with the flames reflected on the trees and the flags, and it seemed just +like a trappers' bivouac. + +Then we walked into the circle; and when the fellows saw the rabbits +they gave a cheer. After I reported to General Ashley and turned the two +boys over to him, I cleaned the rabbits for supper. + +The two new boys, Bat and Walt, threw down their stuff and sat by the +fire to get warm. Bat still wore his big six-shooter. They dropped +their grouse in plain sight, but nobody said a word until Bat (he was +the larger one) spoke up, kind of grandly, when I was finishing the +rabbits: + +"There's some birds. If you'll clean 'em we'll help you eat 'em." + +"No, thanks. We don't want them," answered General Ashley. + +"Why not?" + +"It's against the law." + +"Aw, what difference does that make now?" demanded Walt. "There aren't +any game wardens 'round. And it's only a week before the law goes out, +anyway." + +"But the grouse are dead, just the same," retorted General Ashley. "They +couldn't be any deader, no matter how long it is before the law opens, +or if a game warden was right here!" He was getting angry, and when he's +angry he isn't afraid to say anything, because he's red-headed. + +"You'd like to go and tell, then; wouldn't you!" they sneered. + +"I'd tell if it would do any good." And he would, too; and so would any +of us. "The game laws are made to be kept. Those were our grouse and you +stole them." + +"Who are you?" + +"Well, we happen to be a bunch of Boy Scouts. But what I mean is, that +we fellows who keep the law let the game live on purpose so that +everybody will have an equal chance at it, and then fellows like you +come along and kill it unfairly. See?" + +Humph! The two kids mumbled and kicked at the fire, as they sat; and Bat +said: "We've got to have something to eat. I suppose we can cook our own +meat, can't we?" + +"I suppose you can," answered General Ashley, "if it'll taste good to +you." + +So, while Fitz was cooking on the small fire, they cleaned their own +birds (I didn't touch them) and cooked over some coals of the big fire. +But Fitz made bread enough for all, and there was other stuff; and the +general told them to help themselves. We didn't want to be mean. The +camp-fire is no place to be mean at. A mean fellow doesn't last long, +out camping. + +They had used bark for plates. They gave their fry-pan a hasty rub with +sticks and grass, and cleaned their knives by sticking them into the +ground; and then they squatted by the fire and lighted pipes. After our +dishes had been washed and things had been put away for the night, and +the burros picketed in fresh forage, we prepared to turn in. The clouds +were low and the sky was dark, and the air was damp and chilly; so +General Ashley said: + +"You fellows can bunk in with us, under the tarps. We can make room." + +But no! They just laughed. "Gwan," they said. "We're used to traveling +light. We just roll up in a blanket wherever we happen to be. We aren't +tenderfeet." + +Well, we weren't, either. But we tried to be comfortable. When you are +uncomfortable and sleep cold or crampy, that takes strength fighting it; +and we were on the march to get that message through. So we crawled into +bed, out of the wind and where the spruce branches partly sheltered us, +and our tarps kept the dampness out and the wind, too. The two fellows +opened their blankets (they had one apiece!) by the fire and lay down +and rolled up like logs and seemed to think that they were the smarter. +We let them, if they liked it so. + +The wind moaned through the trees; all about us the timber was dark and +lonesome. Only Apache and Sally, the burros, once in a while grunted as +they stood as far inside the circle as they could get; but snuggled in +our bed, low down, our heads on our coats, we were as warm as toast. + +During the night I woke up, to turn over. Now and then a drop of rain +hit the tarp tent. The fire was going again, and I could hear the two +fellows talking. They were sitting up, feeding it, and huddled Injun +fashion with their blankets over their shoulders, smoking their old +pipes, and thinking (I guessed) that they were doing something big, +being uncomfortable. But it takes more than such foolishness--wearing a +big six-shooter when there is nothing to shoot, and sleeping out in the +rain when cover is handy--to make a veteran. Veterans and real Scouts +act sensibly. (Note 28.) + +When next I woke and stretched, the sun was shining and it was time to +get up. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DISASTROUS DOZE + + +The two fellows were sound asleep when we turned out. They were lying in +the sun, rolled up and with their faces covered to keep the light away. +We didn't pay any attention to them, but had our wet rub and went ahead +attending to camp duties. After a while one of them (Walt, it was) +turned over, and wriggled, and threw the blanket off his face, and +blinked about. He was bleary-eyed and sticky-faced, as if he had slept +too hard but not long enough. And I didn't see how he had had enough air +to breathe. + +But he grinned, and yawned, and said: "You kids get up awful early. What +time is it?" + +"Six o'clock." + +He-haw! And he yawned some more. Then he sat up and let his blanket go +and kicked Bat. "Breakfast!" he shouted. + +That made Bat grunt and grumble and wriggle; and finally uncover, too. +They acted as if their mouths might taste bad, after the pipes. + +We hadn't made a big fire, of course; but breakfast was about ready, on +the little fire, and Fitz our cook sang out, according to our +regulations: "Chuck!" + +That was the camp's signal call. + +"If you fellows want to eat with us, draw up and help yourselves," +invited General Ashley. + +"Sure," they answered; and they crawled out of their blankets, and got +their pieces of bark, and opened their knives, and without washing their +faces or combing their hair they fished into the dishes, for bacon and +bread and sorghum and beans. + +That was messy; but we wanted to be hospitable, so we didn't say +anything. + +"Where are you kids bound for, anyway?" asked Bat. + +"Over the Divide," told General Ashley. + +"Why can't we go along?" + +That staggered us. They weren't our kind; and besides, we were all Boy +Scouts, and our party was big enough as it was. So for a moment nobody +answered. And then Walt spoke up. + +"Aw, we won't hurt you any. What you afraid of? We aren't tenderfeet, +and we'll do our share. We'll throw in our grub and we won't use your +dishes. We've got our own outfit." + +"I don't know. We'll have to vote on that," said General Ashley. "We're +a Patrol of Boy Scouts, traveling on business." + +"What's that--Boy Scouts?" demanded Bat. + +We explained, a little. + +"Take us in, then," said Walt. "We're good scouts--ain't we, Bat?" + +But they weren't. They didn't know anything about Scouts and Scouts' +work. + +"We could admit you as recruits, on the march," said General Ashley. +"But we can't swear you in." + +"Aw, we'll join the gang now and you can swear us in afterwards," said +Bat. + +"Well," said General Ashley, doubtfully, "we'll take a vote." + +We all drew off to one side, and sat in council. It seemed to me that we +might as well let them in. That would be doing them a good turn, and we +might help them to be clean and straight and obey the laws. Boys who +seem mean as dirt, to begin with, often are turned into fine Scouts. + +"Now we'll all vote just as we feel about it," said General Ashley. "One +black-ball will keep them out. 'N' means 'No'; 'Y' means 'Yes.'" + +The vote was taken by writing with a pencil on bits of paper, and the +bits were put into General Ashley's hat. Everything was "Y"--and the +vote was unanimous to let them join. So everybody must have felt the +same about it as I did. + +General Ashley reported to them. "You can come along," he said; "but +you've got to be under discipline, the same as the rest of us. And if +you prove to be Scouts' stuff you can be sworn in later. But I'm only a +Patrol leader and I can't swear you." + +"Sure!" they cried. "We'll be under discipline. Who's the boss? You?" + +We had made a mistake. Here started our trouble. But we didn't know. We +thought that we were doing the right thing by giving them a chance. You +never can tell. + +They volunteered to wash the dishes, and went at it; and we let them +throw their blankets and whatever else they wanted to get rid of in with +the packs. We were late; and anyway we didn't think it was best to start +in fussing and disciplining; they would see how Scouts did, and perhaps +they would catch on that way. Only-- + +"You'll have to cut that out," ordered General Ashley, as we were ready +to set out. He meant their pipes. They had stuck them in their mouths +and had lighted them. + +"What? Can't we hit the pipe?" they both cried. + +"Not with us," declared the general. "It's against the regulations." + +"Aw, gee!" they complained. "That's the best part of camping--to load up +the old pipe." + +"Not for a Scout. He likes fresh air," answered General Ashley. "He +needs his wind, too, and smoking takes the wind. Anyway, we're traveling +through the enemy's country, and a pipe smells, and it's against Scout +regulations to smoke." + +They stuffed their pipes into their pockets. + +"Who's the enemy?" they asked. + +"We're carrying a message and some other boys are trying to stop us. +That's all." + +"We saw some kids, on the other side of that ridge," they cried. +"They're from the same town you are. Are they the ones?" + +"What did they look like?" we asked. + +"One was a big kid with black eyes--" said Bat. + +"Aw, he wasn't big. The big kid had blue eyes," interrupted Walt. + +"How many in the party?" we asked. + +"Four," said Bat. + +"Five," said Walt. + +"Any horses?" + +"Yes." + +"What were the brands?" + +"We didn't notice," they said. + +"Was one horse a bay with a white nose, and another a black with a bob +tail?" + +"Guess so," they said. + +So we didn't know much more than we did before; we could only suspect. +Of course, there were other parties of boys camping, in this country. We +weren't the only ones. If Bat and Walt had been a little smart they +might have helped us. They didn't use their eyes. + +We followed the ridge we were on, as far as we could, because it was +high and free from brush. General Ashley and Major Henry led, as usual, +with the burros behind (those burros would follow now like dogs, where +there wasn't any trail for them to pick out), and then the rest of us, +the two recruits panting in the rear. Bat had belted on his big +six-shooter, and Walt carried the shotgun. + +We traveled fast, as usual, when we could; that gave us more time in the +bad places. Pilot Peak stuck up, beyond some hills, ahead. We kept an +eye on him, for he was our landmark, now that we had broken loose from +trails. He didn't seem any nearer than he was the day before. + +The ridge ended in a point, beyond which was a broad pasture-like +meadow, with the creek winding in a semicircle through it. On across was +a steep range of timber hills--and Pilot Peak and some other peaks rose +beyond, with snow and rocks. In the flat a few cattle were grazing, like +buffalo, and we could see an abandoned cabin which might have been a +trapper's shack. It was a great scene; so free and peaceful and wild and +gentle at the same time. + +We weren't tired, but we halted by the stream in the flat to rest the +burros and to eat something. We took off the packs, and built a little +fire of dry sage, and made tea, while Sally and Apache took a good roll +and then grazed on weeds and flowers and everything. This was fine, +here in the sunshine, with the blue sky over and the timber sloping up +on all sides, and the stream singing. + +After we had eaten some bread and drunk some tea we Scouts rested, to +digest; but Bat and Walt the two recruits loafed off, down the creek, +and when they got away a little we could see them smoking. On top of +that, they hadn't washed the dishes. So I washed them. + +After a while they came back on the run, but they weren't smoking now. +"Say!" they cried, excited. "We found some deer-tracks. Let's camp back +on the edge of the timber, and to-night when the deer come down to drink +we'll get one!" + +That was as bad as shooting grouse. It wasn't deer season. They didn't +seem to understand. + +"Against the law," said General Ashley. "And we're on the march, to go +through as quick as we can. It's time to pack." + +"I'll pack one of those burros. I'll show you how," offered Bat. So we +let them go ahead, because they might know more than we. They led up +Sally, while Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson began to pack +Apache. The recruits threw on the pack, all right, and passed the rope; +but Sally moved because they were so rough, and Bat swore and kicked her +in the stomach. + +"Get around there!" he said. + +"Here! You quit that," scolded Fitzpatrick, first. "That's no way to +treat an animal." He was angry; we all were angry. (Note 29.) + +"It's the way to treat this animal," retorted Bat. "I'll kick her head +off if she doesn't stand still. See?" + +"No, you won't," warned General Ashley. + +"If you can pack a burro so well, pack her yourself, then," answered +Walt. + +"Fitzpatrick, you and Jim Bridger help me with Sally," ordered the +general; and we did. We threw the diamond hitch in a jiffy and the pack +stuck on as if it were glued fast. + +The two recruits didn't have much more to say; but when we took up the +march again they sort of sulked along, behind. We thought best to follow +up the creek, through the flat, instead of making a straight climb of +the timber beyond. That would have been hard work, and slow work, and +you can travel a mile in the open in less time than you can travel half +a mile through brush. + +A cattle trail led up through the flat. This flat closed, and then +opened by a little pass into another flat. We saw plenty of tracks where +deer had come down to the creek and had drunk. There were tracks of +bucks, and of does and of fawns. Walt and Bat kept grumbling and +talking. They wanted to stop off and camp, and shoot. + +Pilot Peak was still on our left; but toward evening the trail we were +following turned off from the creek and climbed through gooseberry and +thimbleberry bushes to the top of a plateau, where was a park of cedars +and flowers, and where was a spring. General Ashley dug in with his +heel, and we off-packs, to camp. It was a mighty good camping spot, +again. (Note 30.) The timber thickened, beyond, and there was no sense +in going on into it, for the night. Into the heel mark we stuck the +flagstaff. + +We went right ahead with our routine. The recruits had a chance to help, +if they wanted to. But they loafed. There was plenty of time before +sunset. The sun shone here half an hour or more longer than down below. +We were up pretty high; some of the aspens had turned yellow, showing +that there had been a frost, already. So we thought that we must be up +about ten thousand feet. The stream we followed had flowed swift, +telling of a steep grade. + +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand got out his camera, to take pictures. He never +wasted any time. Not ordinary camp pictures, you know, but valuable +pictures, of animals and sunsets and things. Jays and speckled +woodpeckers were hopping about, and a pine-squirrel sat on a limb and +scolded at us until he found that we were there to fit in and be company +for him. One side of the plateau fell off into rocks and cliffs, and a +big red ground-hog was lying out on a shelf in the sunset, and +whistling his call. + +Fitz was bound to have a picture of him, and sneaked around, to stalk +him and snap him, close. But just as he was started--"Bang!" I jumped +three feet; we all jumped. It was that fellow Bat. He had shot off his +forty-five Colt's, at the squirrel, and with it smoking in his hand he +was grinning, as if he had played a joke on us. He hadn't hit the +squirrel, but it had disappeared. The ground-hog disappeared, the jays +and the woodpeckers flew off, and after the report died away you +couldn't hear a sound or see an animal. The gun had given notice to the +wild life to vacate, until we were gone. And where that bullet hit, +nobody could tell. + +Fitzpatrick turned around and came back. He knew it wasn't much use +trying, now. We were disgusted, but General Ashley was the one to speak, +because he was Patrol leader. + +"You ought not to do that. Shooting around camp isn't allowed," he said. +"It's dangerous, and it scares things away." + +"I wanted that squirrel. I almost hit him, too," answered Bat. + +"Well, he was protected by camp law." (Note 31.) + +"Aw, all you kids are too fresh," put in Walt, the other. "We'll shoot +as much as we please, or else we'll pull out." + +"If you can't do as the rest of us do, all right: pull," answered the +general. + +"Let them. We don't want them," said Major Henry. "We didn't ask them in +the first place. What's the sense in carrying a big revolver around, and +playing tough!" + +"That will do, Henry," answered the general. "I'm talking for the +Patrol." + +"Come on, Walt. We'll take our stuff and pull out and make our own +camp," said Bat. "We won't be bossed by any red-headed kid--or any +one-armed kid, either." He was referring to the gun and to the burro +packing, both. + +Major Henry began to sputter and growl. A black-eyed boy is as spunky as +a red-headed one. And we all stood up, ready, if there was to be a +fight. But there wasn't. It wasn't necessary. General Ashley flushed +considerably, but he kept his temper. + +"That's all right," he said. "If you can't obey discipline, like the +rest, you don't camp with us." + +"And we don't intend to, you bet," retorted Walt. "We're as good as you +are and a little better, maybe. We're no tenderfeet!" + +They gathered their blankets and their frying-pan and other outfit, and +they stalked off about a hundred yards, further into the cedars, and +dumped their things for their own camp. + +Maybe they thought that we'd try to make them get out entirely, but we +didn't own the place; it was a free camp for all, and as long as they +didn't interfere with us we had no right to interfere with them. We made +our fire and they started theirs; and then I was sent out to hunt for +meat again. + +I headed away from camp, and I got one rabbit and a great big +ground-hog. Some people won't eat ground-hog, but they don't know what +is good; only, he must be cleaned right away. Well, I was almost at camp +again when "Whish! Bang!" somebody had shot and had spattered all around +me, stinging my ear and rapping me on the coat and putting a couple of +holes in my hat. I dropped flat, in a hurry. + +"Hey!" I yelled. "Look out there! What you doing?" + +But it was "Bang!" again, and more shot whizzing by; this time none hit +me. Now I ran and sat behind a rock. And after a while I made for camp, +and I was glad to reach it. + +I was still some stirred up about being peppered, and so I went straight +to the other fire. The two fellows were there cleaning a couple of +squirrels. + +"Who shot them?" I asked. + +"Walt." + +"And he nearly filled me full of holes, too," I said. "Look at my hat." + +"Who nearly filled you full of holes?" asked Walt. + +"You did." + +"Aw, I didn't, either. I wasn't anywhere near you." + +"You were, too," I answered, hot. "You shot right down over the hill, +and when I yelled at you, you shot again." + +Walt was well scared. + +"'Twasn't me," he said. "I saw you start out and I went opposite." + +"Well, you ought to be careful, shooting in the direction of camp," I +said. + +"Didn't hurt you." + +"It might have put my eyes out, just the same." And I had to go back and +clean my game and gun. We had a good supper. The other fellows kept to +their own camp and we could smell them smoking cigarettes. With them +close, and with news that another crowd was out, we were obliged to +mount night guard. + +There was no use in two of us staying awake at the same time, and we +divided the night into four watches--eight to eleven, eleven to one, one +to three, three to five. The first watch was longest, because it was the +easiest watch. We drew lots for the partners who would sleep all night, +and Jed Smith and Major Henry found they wouldn't have to watch. We four +others would. + +Fitz went on guard first, from eight to eleven. At eleven he would wake +Carson, and would crawl into Carson's place beside of General Ashley. +At one Carson would wake me, and would crawl into my place where I was +alone. And at three I would wake General Ashley and crawl into his place +beside Fitz again. So we would disturb each other just as little as +possible and only at long intervals. (Note 32.) + +It seemed to me that I had the worst watch of all--from one to three; it +broke my night right in two. Of course a Scout takes what duty comes, +and says nothing. But jiminy, I was sleepy when Carson woke me and I had +to stagger out into the dark and the cold. He cuddled down in a hurry +into my warm nest and there I was, on guard over the sleeping camp, here +in the timber far away from lights or houses or people. + +The fire was out, but I could see by star shine. Low in the west was a +half moon, just sinking behind the mountains there. Down in the flat +which we had left coyotes were barking. Maybe they smelled fawns. +Somebody was snoring. That was fatty Jed Smith. He and Major Henry were +having a fine sleep. So were all the rest, under the whity tarps which +looked ghostly and queer. + +And I went to sleep, too! + +That was awful, for a Scout on guard. I don't know why I couldn't keep +awake, but I couldn't. I tried every way. I rubbed my eyes, and I dipped +water out of the spring and washed my face, and I dropped the blanket I +was wearing, so that I would be cold. And I walked in a circle. Then I +thought that maybe if I sat down with the blanket about me, I would be +better off. So I sat down. If I could let my eyes close for just a +second, to rest them, I would be all right. And they did close--and when +I opened them I was sort of toppled over against the tree, and was stiff +and astonished--and it was broad morning and I hadn't wakened General +Ashley! + +I staggered up as quick as I could. I looked around. Things seemed to be +O. K. and quiet and peaceful--but suddenly I missed the flags, and then +I missed the burros! + +Yes, sir! The flagstaff was gone, leaving the hole where it had been +stuck. And the burros were gone, picket ropes and all! The place where +they ought to be appeared mighty vacant. And now I sure was frightened. +I hustled to the camp of the two boys, Bat and Walt, and they were gone. +That looked bad. + +My duty now was to arouse our camp and give the alarm, so I must wake +General Ashley. You can imagine how I hated to. I almost was sore +because he hadn't waked up, himself, at three o'clock, instead of +waiting for me and letting me sleep. + +But I shook him, and he sat up, blinking. I saluted. "It's after four +o'clock," I reported, "and I slept on guard and the flags and the burros +are gone." And then I wanted to cry, but I didn't. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HELD BY THE ENEMY + + +"Oh, the dickens!" stammered General Ashley; and out he rolled, in a +hurry. He didn't stop to blame me. "Have you looked for sign?" + +"The burros might have strayed, but the flags couldn't and only the hole +is there. And those two fellows of the other camp are gone, already." + +General Ashley began to pull on his shoes and lace them. + +"Rouse the camp," he ordered. + +So I did. And to every one I said: "I slept on guard and the flags and +the burros are gone." + +I was willing to be shot, or discharged, or anything; and I didn't have +a single solitary excuse. I didn't try to think one up. + +The general took Fitzpatrick, who is our best trailer, and Major Henry, +and started in to work out the sign, while the rest of us hustled with +breakfast. The ground about the flag hole was trampled and not much +could be done there; and not much could be done right where the burros +had stood, because we all from both camps had been roaming around. But +the general and Fitz and Major Henry circled, wider and wider, watching +out for burro tracks pointing back down the trail, or else out into the +timber. The hoofs of the burros would cut in, where the feet of the two +fellows might not have left any mark. Pretty soon the burro tracks were +found, and boot-heels, too; and while Fitzpatrick followed the trail a +little farther the general and Major Henry came back to the camp. +Breakfast was ready. + +"Fitzpatrick and Jim Bridger and I will take the trail of the burros, +and you other three stay here," said General Ashley. "If we don't come +back by morning, or if you don't see smoke-signals from us that we're +all right, you cache the stuff and come after us." + +That was splendid of the general to give me a chance to make good on the +trail. It was better than if he'd ordered me close in camp, or had not +paid any attention to me. + +Fitz returned, puffing. He had followed the trail a quarter of a mile +and it grew plainer as the two fellows had hurried more. We ate a big +breakfast (we three especially, I mean), and prepared for the trail. We +tied on our coats in a roll like blankets, but we took no blankets, for +we must travel light. We stuffed some bread and chocolate into our coat +pockets, and we were certain that we had matches and knife. I took the +short bow and arrows, as game getter; but we left the rifle for the +camp. We would not have used a rifle, anyway. It made noise; and we must +get the burros by Scoutcraft alone. But those burros we would have, and +the flags. The general slung one of the Patrol's ropes about him, in +case we had to rope the burros. + +We set right out, Fitzpatrick leading, as chief trailer. Much depended +upon our speed, and that is why we traveled light; for you never can +follow a trail as fast as it was made, and we must overtake those +fellows by traveling longer. They were handicapped by the burros, +though, which helped us. + +We planned to keep going, and eat on the march, and by night sneak on +the camp. + +The trail wasn't hard to follow. Burro tracks are different from cow +tracks and horse tracks and deer tracks; they are small and +oblong--narrow like a colt's hoof squeezed together or like little mule +tracks. The two fellows used the cattle trail, and Fitzpatrick read the +sign for us. + +"They had to lead the burros," he said. "The burros' tracks are on top +of the sole tracks." + +We hurried. And then-- + +"Now they're driving 'em," he said. "They're stepping on top of the +burro tracks; and I think that they're all on the trot, too, by the way +the burros' hind hoofs overlap the front hoofs, and dig in." + +We hurried more, at Scout pace, which is trotting and walking mixed. And +next-- + +"Now they've got on the burros," said Fitz. "There aren't any sole +tracks and the burros' hoofs dig deeper." + +The fellows surely were making time. I could imagine how they kicked and +licked Sally and Apache, to hasten. And while we hastened, too, we must +watch the signs and be cautious that we didn't overrun or get ambushed. +Where the sun shone we could tell that the sign was still an hour or +more old, because the edges of the hoof-marks were baked hard; and +sticks and stones turned up had dried. And in the shade the bits of +needles and grass stepped on had straightened a little. And there were +other signs, but we chose those which we could read the quickest. (Note +33.) + +We were high up among cedars and bushes, on a big mesa. There were +cattle, here, and grassy parks for them. Most of the cattle bore a Big W +brand. The trail the cattle had made kept dividing and petering out, and +we had to pick the one that the burros took. The fellows were riding, +still, but not at a trot so much. Maybe they thought that we had been +left, by this time. Pretty soon the burros had been grabbing at branches +and weeds, which showed that they were going slower, and were hungry; +and the fellows had got off and were walking. The sun was high and the +air was dry, so that the signs were not so easy to read, and we went +slower, too. The country up here grew open and rocky, and at last we +lost the trail altogether. That was bad. The general and I circled and +scouted, at the sides, and Fitz went on ahead, to pick it up beyond, +maybe. Pretty soon we heard him whistle the Elks' call. + +He had come out upon a rocky point. The timber ended, and before and +right and left was a great rolling valley, of short grasses and just a +few scattered trees, with long slopes holding it like a cup. The sun was +shining down, and the air was clear and quivery. + +"I see them," said Fitz. "There they are, General--in a line between us +and that other point of rocks." + +Hurrah! This was great news. Sure enough, when we had bent low and +sneaked to the rocks, and were looking, we could make out two specks +creeping up the sunshine slope, among the few trees, opposite. + +That was good, and it was bad. The thieves were not a mile ahead of us, +then, but now we must scout in earnest. It would not do for us to keep +to the trail across that open valley. Some fellows might have rushed +right along; and if the other fellows were sharp they would be looking +back, at such a spot, to watch for pursuers. So we must make a big +circuit, and stay out of sight, and hit the trail again on the other +side. + +We crept back under cover, left a "warning" sign on the trail (Note +34), and swung around, and one at a time we crossed the valley higher +up, where it was narrower and there was brush for cover. This took time, +but it was the proper scouting; and now we hurried our best along the +other slope to pick up the trail once more. + +It was after noon, by the sun, and we hadn't stopped to eat, and we were +hungry and hot and pretty tired. + +As we never talked much on the trail, especially when we might be near +the enemy, Fitzpatrick made a sign that we climb straight to the top of +the slope and follow along there, to strike the trail. And if the +fellows had turned off anywhere, in gulch or to camp, we were better +fixed above them than below them. + +We scouted carefully along this ridge, and came to a gulch. A path led +through, where cattle had traveled, and in the damp dirt were the burro +tracks. Hurrah! They were soft and fresh. + +The sun was going to set early, in a cloud bank, and those fellows would +be camping soon. It was no use to rush them when they were traveling; +they had guns and would hang on to the burros. The way to do was to +crawl into their camp. So we traveled slower, in order to give them time +to camp. + +After a while we smelled smoke. The timber was thick, and the general +and I each climbed a tree, to see where that smoke came from. I was away +at the top of a pine, and from that tree the view was grand. Pilot Peak +stood up in the wrong direction, as if we had been going around, and +mountains and timber were everywhere. I saw the smoke. And away to the +north, ten miles, it seemed to me I could see another smoke, with the +sun showing it up. It was a column smoke, and I guessed that it was a +smoke signal set by the three Scouts we had left, to show us where camp +was. + +But the smoke that we were after rose in a blue haze above the trees +down in a little park about a quarter of a mile on our right. We left a +"warning" sign, and stalked the smoke. + +Although Fitzpatrick has only one whole arm, he can stalk as well as any +of us. We advanced cautiously, and could smell the smoke stronger and +stronger; we began to stoop and to crawl and when we had wriggled we +must halt and listen. We could not hear anybody talking. + +The general led, and Fitz and I crawled behind him, in a snake scout. I +think that maybe we might have done better if we had stalked from three +directions. Everything was very quiet, and when we could see where the +fire ought to be we made scarcely a sound. The general brushed out of +his way any twigs that would crack. + +It was a fine stalk. We approached from behind a cedar, and parting the +branches the general looked through. He beckoned to us, and we wriggled +along and looked through. There was a fire, and our flags stuck beside +it, and Sally and Apache standing tied to a bush, and blankets thrown +down--but not anybody at home! The two fellows must be out fishing or +hunting, and this seemed a good chance. + +The general signed. We all were to rush in, Fitz would grab the flag, +and I a burro and the general a burro, and we would skip out and travel +fast, across country. + +I knew that by separating and turning and other tricks we would outwit +those two kids, if we got any kind of a start. + +We listened, holding our breath. Nobody seemed near. Now was the time. +The general stood, Fitz and I stood, and in we darted. Fitz grabbed the +flag, and I was just hauling at Sally while the general slashed the +picket-ropes with his knife, when there rose a tremendous yell and laugh +and from all about people charged in on us. + +Before we could escape we were seized. They were eight to our three. Two +of them were the two kids Bat and Walt, and the other six were town +fellows--Bill Duane, Tony Matthews, Bert Hawley, Mike Delavan, and a +couple more. + +How they whooped! We felt cheap. The camp had been a trap. The two kids +Bat and Walt had come upon the other crowd accidentally, and had told +about us and that maybe we were trailing them, and they all had ambushed +us. We ought to have reconnoitered more, instead of thinking about +stalking. We ought to have been more suspicious, and not have +underestimated the enemy. (Note 35.) This was just a made-to-order +camp. The camp of the town gang was about three hundred yards away, +lower, in another open place, by a creek. They tied our arms and led us +down there. + +"Aw, we thought you fellers were Scouts!" jeered Bat. "You're easy." + +He and Walt took the credit right to themselves. + +"What do you want with us?" demanded General Ashley, of Bill Duane. "We +haven't done anything to harm you." + +"We'll show you," said Bill. "First we're going to skin you, and then +we're going to burn you at the stake, and then we're going to kill you." + +Of course we knew that he was only fooling; but it was a bad fix, just +the same. They might keep us, for meanness; and Major Henry and Kit +Carson and Jed Smith wouldn't know exactly what to do and we'd be +wasting valuable time. That was the worst: we were delaying the message! +And I had myself to blame for this, because I went to sleep on guard. A +little mistake may lead to a lot of trouble. + +And now the worst happened. When they got us to the main camp Bill Duane +walked up to General Ashley and said: "Where you got that message, Red?" + +"What message?" answered General Ashley. + +"Aw, get out!" laughed Bill. "If we untie you will you fork it over or +do you want me to search you?" + +"'Tisn't your message, and if I had it I wouldn't give it to you. But +you'd better untie us, just the same. And we want those burros and our +flags." + +"Hold him till I search him, fellows," said Bill. "He's got it, I bet. +He's the Big Scout." + +Fitz and I couldn't do a thing. One of the gang put his arm under the +general's chin and held him tight, and Bill Duane went through him. He +didn't find the message in any pockets; but he saw the buckskin thong, +and hauled on it, and out came the packet from under the general's +shirt. + +Bill put it in his own pocket. + +"There!" he said. "Now what you going to do about it?" + +The general was as red all over as his hair and looked as if he wanted +to fight or cry. Fitz was white and red in spots, and I was so mad I +shook. + +"Nothing, now," said the general, huskily. "You don't give us a chance +to do anything. You're a lot of cowards--tying us up and searching us, +and taking our things." + +[Illustration: "BILL DUANE WENT THROUGH HIM."] + +Then they laughed at us some more, and all jeered and made fun, and said +that they would take the message through for us. I tell you, it was +humiliating, to be bound that way, as prisoners, and to think that we +had failed in our trust. As Scouts we had been no good--and I was to +blame just because I had fallen asleep at my post. + +They were beginning to quit laughing at us, and were starting to get +supper, when suddenly I heard horse's hoofs, and down the bridle path +that led along an edge of the park rode a man. He heard the noise and he +saw us tied, I guess, for he came over. + +"What's the matter here?" he asked. + +The gang calmed down in a twinkling. They weren't so brash, now. + +"Nothin'," said Bill. + +"Who you got here? What's the rumpus?" he insisted. + +"They've taken us prisoners and are keeping us, and they've got our +burros and flags and a message," spoke up the general. + +He was a small man with a black mustache and blackish whiskers growing. +He rode a bay horse with a K Cross on its right shoulder, and the saddle +had brass-bound stirrups. He wore a black slouch hat and was in black +shirt-sleeves, and ordinary pants and shoes. + +"What message?" he asked. + +"A message we were carrying." + +"Where?" + +"Across from our town to Green Valley." + +"Why?" + +"Just for fun." + +"Aw, that's a lie. They were to get twenty-five dollars for doing it on +time. Now we cash it in ourselves," spoke Bill. "It was a race, and they +don't make good. See?" + +That was a lie, sure. We weren't to be paid a cent--and we didn't want +to be paid. + +"Who's got the message now?" asked the man. + +"He has," said the general, pointing at Bill. + +"Let's see it." + +Bill backed away. + +"I ain't, either," he said. Which was another lie. + +"Let's see it," repeated the man. "I might like to make that twenty-five +dollars myself." + +Now Bill was sorry he had told that first lie. The first is the one that +gives the most trouble. + +"Who are you?" he said, scared, and backing away some more. + +"Never you mind who I am," answered the man--biting his words off short; +and he rode right for Bill. He stuck his face forward. It was hard and +dark and mean. "Hand--over--that--message. Savvy?" + +Bill was nothing but a big bluff and a coward. You would have known +that he was a coward, by the lies he had told and by the way he had +attacked us. He wilted right down. + +"Aw, I was just fooling," he said. "I was going to give it back to 'em. +Here 'tis. There ain't no prize offered, anyhow." And he handed it to +the man. + +The man turned it over in his fingers. We watched. We hoped he'd make +them untie us and he'd pass it to us and tell us to skip. But after he +had turned it over and over, he smiled, kind of grimly, and stuck it in +his hip pocket. + +"I reckon I'd like to make that twenty-five dollars myself," he said. +And then he rode to one side, and dismounted; he loosened the cinches +and made ready as if to camp. And they all let him. + +Now, that was bad for us, again. The gang had our flags and our burros, +and he had our message. + +"That's our message. We're carrying it through just for fun and for +practice," called the general. "It's no good to anybody except us." + +"Bueno," said the man--which is Mexican or Spanish for "Good." He was +squatting and building a little fire. + +"Aren't you going to give it to us and make them let us go?" + +He grunted. "Don't bother me. I'm busy." + +That was all we could get out of him. Now it was growing dark and cold. +The gang was grumbling and accusing Bill of being "bluffed" and all +that, but they didn't make any effort to attack the man. They all were +afraid of him; they didn't have nerve. They just grumbled and talked of +what Bill ought to have done, and proceeded to cook supper and to loaf +around. Our hands were behind our backs and we were tied like dogs to +trees. + +And suddenly, while watching the man, I noticed that he was doing things +left-handed, and quick as a wink I saw that the sole of his left shoe +was worn through! And if he wasn't riding a roan horse, he was riding a +saddle with brass-bound stirrups, anyway. A man may trade horses, but he +keeps to his own saddle. This was the beaver man! We three Scouts +exchanged signs of warning. + +"You aren't going to tie us for all night, are you?" demanded +Fitzpatrick. + +"Sure," said Bill. + +"We'll give you our parole not to try to escape," offered General +Ashley. + +"What's that?" + +"We'll promise," I explained. + +Then they all jeered. + +"Aw, promise!" they laughed. "We know all about your promises." + +"Scouts don't break their promises," answered the general, hot. "When +we give our parole we mean it. And if we decided to try to escape we'd +tell you and take the parole back. We want to be untied so we can eat." + +"All right. We'll untie you," said Bill; and I saw him wink at the other +fellows. + +They did. They loosened our hands--but they put ropes on our feet! We +could just walk, and that is all. And Walt (he and Bat were cooking) +poked the fire with our flagstaff. Then he sat on the flags! I tell you, +we were angry! + +"This doesn't count," sputtered the general, red as fury. + +"You gave us your parole if we'd untie you," jeered Bill. "And we did." + +"But you tied us up again." + +"We didn't say anything about that. You said if we'd untie you, so you +could eat, you wouldn't run away. Well, we untied you, didn't we?" + +"That isn't fair. You know what we meant," retorted Fitz. + +"We know what you said," they laughed. + +"Aw, cut it out," growled the man, from his own fire. "You make too much +noise. I'm tired." + +"Chuck," called Walt, for supper. + +They stuck us between them, and we all ate. Whew, but it was a dirty +camp. The dishes weren't clean and the stuff to eat was messy, and the +fellows all swore and talked as bad as they could. It was a shame--and +it seemed a bigger shame because here in the park everything was +intended to be quiet and neat and ought to make you feel _good_. + +After supper they quarreled as to who would wash the dishes, and finally +one washed and one wiped, and the rest lay around and smoked pipes and +cigarettes. Over at his side of the little park the man had rolled up +and was still. But I knew that he was watching, because he was smoking, +too. + +We couldn't do anything, even if we had planned to. We might have untied +the ropes on our feet, but the gang sat close about us. Then, they had +the flags and the burros, and the man had the message; and if they had +been wise they would have known that we wouldn't go far. Of course, we +might have hung about and bothered them. + +They made each of us sleep with one of them. They had some dirty old +quilts, and we all rolled up. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NEW USE FOR A CAMERA + + +We were stiff when we woke in the morning, but we had to lie until the +rest of them decided to get up, and then it was hot and late. That was a +lazy camp as well as a dirty one. The early morning is the best part of +the day, out in the woods, but lots of fellows don't seem to think so. + +I had slept with Bat, and he had snored 'most all night. Now as soon as +I could raise my head from the old quilts I looked over to see the man. +He wasn't there. His horse wasn't there and his fire wasn't burning. The +spot where he had camped was vacant. He had gone, with our message! + +I wriggled loose from Bat and woke him, and he swore and tried to make +me lie still, but I wouldn't. Not much! + +"Red!" I called, not caring whether I woke anybody else or not. "Red! +General!" I used both names--and I didn't care for that, either. + +He wriggled, too, to sit up. + +"What?" + +"The man's gone. He isn't there. He's gone with the message!" + +The general exclaimed, and worked to jerk loose from Bill; and Fitz's +head bobbed up. There wasn't any more sleep for that camp, now. + +"Oh, shut up!" growled Bill. + +"You fellows turn us loose," we ordered. "We've got to go. We've got to +follow that man." + +But they wouldn't, of course. They just laughed, and said: "No, you +don't want to go. You've given us your parole; see?" and they pulled us +down into the quilts again, and yawned and would sleep some more, until +they found it was no use, and first one and then another kicked off the +covers and sat up, too. + +The sun was high and all the birds and bees and squirrels were busy for +the day. At least two hours had been wasted, already. + +Half of the fellows didn't wash at all, and all we Scouts were allowed +to do was to wash our faces, with a lick and a promise, at the creek, +under guard. We missed our morning cold wet rub. The camp hadn't been +policed, and seemed dirtier than ever. Tin cans were scattered about, +and pieces of bacon and of other stuff, and there was nothing sanitary +or regular. Our flags were dusty and wrinkled; and that hurt. The only +thing homelike was Apache and Sally, our burros, grazing on weeds and +grass near the camp. But they didn't notice us particularly. + +We didn't have anything more to say. The fellows began to smoke +cigarettes and pipes as soon as they were up, and made the fire and +cooked some bacon and fried some potatoes, and we all ate, with the +flies buzzing around. A dirty camp attracts flies, and the flies stepped +in all sorts of stuff and then stepped in our food and on us, too. Whew! +Ugh! + +We would have liked to make a smoke signal, to let Major Henry and Jed +Smith and Kit Carson know where we were, but there seemed no way. They +would be starting out after us, according to instructions, and we didn't +want them to be captured. We knew that they would be coming, because +they were Scouts and Scouts obey orders. They can be depended upon. + +I guess it was ten o'clock before we were through the messy breakfast, +and then most of the gang went off fishing and fooling around. + +"Aren't you going to untie our feet?" asked the general. + +"Do you give us your promise not to skip?" answered Bill. + +"We'll give our parole till twelve o'clock." + +We knew what the general was planning. By twelve o'clock something might +happen--the other Scouts might be near, then, and we wanted to be free +to help them.-- + +"Will you give us your parole if we tie your feet, loose, instead of +your hands?" + +"Yes," said the general; and Fitzpatrick and I nodded. Jiminy, we didn't +want our hands tied, on this hot day. + +So they hobbled our feet, and tethered us to a tree. They tied the knots +tight--knot after knot; and then they went off laughing, but they left +Walt and Bat to watch us! That wasn't fair. It broke our parole for us, +really, for they hadn't accepted it under the conditions we had offered +it. (Note 36.) + +"Don't you fellows get to monkeying, now," warned Bat, "or we'll tie you +tighter. If you skip we've got your burros and your flags." + +That was so. + +"We know that," replied the general, meekly; but I could see that he was +boiling, inside. + +It was awful stupid, just sitting, with those two fellows watching. Bat +wore his big revolver, and Walt had his shotgun. They smoked their +bad-smelling pipes, and played with an old deck of cards. Camping +doesn't seem to amount to much with some fellows, except as a place to +be dirty in and to smoke and play cards. They might as well be in town. + +"Shall we escape?" I signed to the general. (Note 37.) + +"No," he signed back. "Wait till twelve o'clock." He was going to keep +our word, even if we did have a right to break it. + +"Hand me my camera, will you, please?" asked Fitz, politely. + +"What do you want of it?" demanded Walt. + +"I want to use it. We haven't anything else to do." + +"Sure," said Walt; he tossed it over. "Take pictures of yourselves, and +show folks how you smart Scouts were fooled." + +I didn't see what Fitz could use his camera on, here. And he didn't seem +to be using it. He kept it beside him, was all. There weren't any +animals around this kind of a camp. But the general and I didn't ask him +any questions. He was wise, was old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and +probably he had some scheme up his sleeve. + +We just sat. The two fellows played cards and smoked and talked rough +and loud, and wasted their time this way. The sun was mighty hot, and +they yawned and yawned. Tobacco smoking so much made them stupid. But we +yawned, too. The general made the sleep sign to Fitz and me, and we +nodded. The general and I stretched out and were quiet. I really was +sleepy; we had had a hard night. + +"You fellows going to sleep?" asked Walt. + +We grunted at him. + +"Then we'll tie your hands and we'll go to sleep," he said. "Come on, +Bat. Maybe it's a put-up job." + +"No, sir; that wasn't in the bargain," objected the general. + +"Aw, we got your parole till twelve o'clock, but we're going to tie you +anyway," replied that Walt. "We didn't say how long we'd leave your +hands loose. We aren't going to sit around and keep awake, watching you +guys. When we wake up we untie you again." + +We couldn't do anything; and they tied the general's hands and my hands, +but Fitzpatrick begged off. + +"I want to use my camera," he claimed. "And I've got only one hand +anyway. I can't untie knots with one hand." + +They didn't know how clever Fitz was; so they just moved him and +fastened him by the waist to a tree where he couldn't reach us. + +"We'll be watching and listening," they warned. "And if you try any +foolishness you'll get hurt." + +They stretched out, and pretended to snooze. I didn't see, myself, how +Fitz could untie those hard knots with his one hand, in time to do any +good. They were hard knots, drawn tight, and the rope was a +clothes-line; and he was set against a tree with the rope about his +body and the knots behind him on the other side of the tree. I didn't +believe that Bat and Walt would sleep hard; but while I waited to see +what would happen next, I dozed off, myself. + +Something tapped me on the head, and I woke up in a jiffy. Fitz must +have tossed a twig at me, because when I looked over at him he made the +silence sign. He was busy; and what do you think? He had taken his +camera apart, and unscrewed the lenses, and had focused on the rope +about him. He had wriggled so that the sun shone on the lenses, and a +little spire of smoke was rising from him. Bat and Walt were asleep; +they never made a move, but they both snored. And Fitz was burning his +rope in two, on his body. + +It didn't take very long, because the sun was so hot and the lenses were +strong. The rope charred and fumed, and he snapped it; and then he began +on his feet. Good old Fitz! If only he got loose before those two +fellows woke. The general was watching him, too. + +Walt grunted and rolled over and bleared around, and Fitz quit +instantly, and sat still as if tied and fooling with his camera. Walt +thought that everything was all right and rolled over; and after a +moment Fitz continued. Pretty soon he was through. And now came the most +ticklish time of all. + +He waited and made a false move or two, to be certain that Walt and Bat +weren't shamming; and then he snapped the rope about his body and +gradually unwound it and then he snapped the rope that bound together +his feet. Now he began to crawl for the two fellows. Inch by inch he +moved along, like an Indian; and he never made a sound. That was good +scouting for anybody, and especially for a one-armed boy, I tell you! +The general and I scarcely breathed. My heart thumped so that I was +afraid it would shake the ground. + +When he got near enough, Fitz reached cautiously, and pulled away the +shotgun. Like lightning he opened the breech and shook loose the shell +and kicked it out of the way--and when he closed the breech with a jerk +Bat woke up. + +"You keep quiet," snapped Fitz. His eyes were blazing. "If either of you +makes a fuss, I'll pull the trigger." He had the gun aiming straight at +them both. Walt woke, too, and was trying to discover what happened. "Be +quiet, now!" + +Those two fellows were frightened stiff. The gun looked ugly, with its +round muzzle leveled at their stomachs, and Fitz behind, his cheeks red +and his eyes angry and steady. But it was funny, too; he might have +pulled trigger, but nothing would have happened, because the gun wasn't +loaded. Of course none of us Scouts would have shot anybody and had +blood on our hands. Fitz had thrown away the shell on purpose so that +there wouldn't be any accident. It's bad to point a gun, whether loaded +or not, at any one. This was a have-to case. Bat and Walt didn't know. +They were white as sheets, and lay rigid. + +"Don't you shoot. Look out! That gun might go off," they pleaded; we +could hear their teeth chatter. "If you won't point it at us we'll do +anything you say." + +"You bet you'll do anything I say," snapped Fitz, very savage. "You had +us, and now we have you! Unbuckle that belt, you Bat. Don't you touch +the revolver, though. I'm mad and I mean business." + +Bat's fingers trembled and he fussed at the belt and unbuckled it, and +off came belt and revolver, and all. + +"Toss 'em over." + +He tossed them. Fitz put his foot on them. + +"Aw, what do you let that one-armed kid bluff you for?" began Walt; and +Fitz caught him up as quick as a wink. + +"What are _you_ talking about?" he asked. "I'll give you a job, too. You +take your knife and help cut those two Scouts loose." + +"Ain't got a knife," grumbled Walt. + +"Yes, you have. I've seen it. Will you, or do you want me to pull +trigger?" + +"You wouldn't dare." + +"Wouldn't I? You watch this finger." + +"Look out, Walt!" begged Bat. "He will! I know he will! See his finger? +He might do it by accident. Quit, Fitz. We'll cut 'em." + +"Don't get up. Just roll," ordered Fitz. + +They rolled. He kept the muzzle right on them. Walt cut me free (his +hands were shaking as bad as Bat's), and Bat cut the general free. + +We stood up. But there wasn't time for congratulations, or anything like +that. No. We must skip. + +"Quick!" bade Fitz. "Tie their feet. My rope will do; it was a long +one." + +"How'd _you_ get loose?" snarled Walt. + +"None of your business," retorted Fitz. + +We pulled on the knots hard--and they weren't any granny knots, either, +that would work loose. We tied their feet, and then with a bowline noose +tied their elbows behind their backs--which was quicker than tying their +wrists. (Note 38.) + +Fitz dropped the shotgun and grabbed his camera. + +"You gave your parole," whined Bat. + +"It's after twelve," answered the general. + +And then Walt uttered a tremendous yell--and there was an answering +whoop near at hand. The rest of the gang were coming back. + +"Run!" ordered the general. "Meet at the old camp." + +We ran, and scattered. We didn't stop for the burros, or anything more, +except that as I passed I grabbed up the bow and arrows and with one +jerk I ripped our flags loose from the pole, where it was lying. + +This delayed me for a second. Walt and Bat were yelling the alarm, and +feet were hurrying and voices were answering. I caught a glimpse of the +general and Fitz plunging into brush at one side, and I made for another +point. + +"There they go! Stop 'em!" were calling Walt and Bat. + +Tony Matthews was coming so fast that he almost dived into me; but I +dodged him and away I went, into the timber and the brush, with him +pelting after. Now all the timber was full of cries and threats, and +"Bang! Bang!" sounded a gun. But I didn't stop to look around. I +scudded, with Tony thumping behind me. + +"You halt!" ordered Tony. "Head him off!" he called. + +I dodged again, around a cedar, and ran in a new direction, up a slope, +through grass and just a sprinkling of trees. Now was the time to prove +what a Scout's training was good for, in giving him lungs and legs and +endurance. So I ran at a springy lope, up-hill, as a rabbit does. Two +voices were panting at me; I saved my breath for something better than +talk. The puffing grew fainter, and finally when I couldn't hear it, or +any other sound near, I did halt and look around. + +The pursuit was still going on behind and below, near where the gang's +camp was. I could hear the shouts, and "Bang! Bang!" but shouts and +shooting wouldn't capture the general and Fitz, I knew. Tony and the +other fellow who had been chasing me had quit--and now I saw the general +and Fitz. They must have had to double and dodge, because they had not +got so far away: but here they came, out from the trees, into an open +space, across from me, and they were running strong and swift for the +slope beyond. If it was a case of speed and wind, none of that smoking, +flabby crowd could catch them. + +Fitz was ahead, the general was about ten feet behind, and much farther +behind streamed the gang, Bill Delaney leading and the rest lumbering +after. Tony and the other fellow had flopped down, and never stirred to +help. They were done for. + +It was quite exciting, to watch; and as the general and Fitz were +drawing right away and escaping, I wanted to cheer. They turned sharp to +make straight up-hill--and then the general fell. He must have slipped. +He picked himself up almost before he had touched the ground and plunged +on, but down he toppled, like a wounded deer. Fitzpatrick, who was +climbing fast off at one side, saw. + +"Hurt?" I heard him call. + +"No," answered the general. "Go on." + +But Fitz didn't keep on. He turned and came right to him, although the +enemy was drawing close. The general staggered up, and sat down again. + +I knew what was being said, now, although I couldn't hear anything +except the jeers of the gang as they increased speed. The general was +hurt, and he was telling Fitz to go and save himself, and Fitz wouldn't. +He sat there, too, and waited. Then, just as the gang closed in, and +Bill Delaney reached to grab Fitz, the general saw me and made me the +sign to go on, and the sign of a horse and rider. + +Yes, that was my part, now. I was the one who must follow the beaver +man, who had taken our message. The message was the most important +thing. We must get that through no matter what happened. And while Fitz +and the general could help each other, inside, I could be trailing the +message, and maybe finding Henry and Carson and Smith, outside. + +So I started on. The enemy was leading the general, who could just +hobble, and Fitz, back to the camp. Loyal old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +who had helped his comrade instead of saving himself! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JIM BRIDGER ON THE TRAIL + + +I turned, and climbed the hill. It was a long hill, and hot, but I +wanted to get up where I could see. The top was grassy and bare, and +here I stopped, to find out where things were. + +Off in one direction (which was southwest, by the sun) rose Pilot Peak, +rocky and snowy, with the main range stretching on either side of it. +But between Pilot Peak and me there lay a big country of heavy timber. +Yes, in every direction was heavy timber. I had run without thinking, +and now it was pretty hard to tell exactly where I was. + +I stood for a minute and tried to figure in what direction that beaver +man probably had ridden. He had come in on our left, as we sat, and had +probably gone along toward our right. I tried to remember which way the +shadows had fallen, in the sunset, and which way west had been, from our +right or left as we were sitting. + +Finally I was quite certain that the shadows had fallen sort of +quartering, from right to left, and so the man probably had made toward +the west. It was a good thing that I had noticed the shadows, but to +notice little things is a Scout's training. + +I stuffed the flags inside my shirt, and tied my coat about me; only one +arrow was left, out of six; the five others must have fallen when I was +running. And I was hungry and didn't have a thing to eat, because when +the gang had captured us they had taken our bread and chocolate, along +with our match-boxes and knives and other stuff. That was mean of them. +But with a look about for smoke signals I took my bow and started across +the top of the hill. + +It was to be the lone trail and the hungry trail for Jim Bridger. But he +had slept on post, and he was paying for it. Now if he (that was I, you +know) only could get back that message, and thus make good, he wouldn't +mind lonesomeness or hunger or thirst or tiredness or wet or anything. + +I wasn't afraid of the gang overtaking me or finding me, if I kept my +wits about me. And after I was over the brow of the hill I swung into +the west, at Scouts' pace of trot and walk mixed. This took me along the +top of the hill, to a draw or little valley that cut through. The draw +was thick with spruces and pines and was brushy at the bottom, so I went +around the head of it. That was easier than climbing down and up +again--and the draw would have been a bad place to be cornered in. + +I watched out for trails, but I did not cross a thing, and I began to +edge down to strike that stream which passed the gang's camp. Often +trails follow along streams, where the cattle and horses travel. The man +who had our message might have used this trail but although I edged and +edged, keeping right according to the sun, I didn't strike that stream. +Up and down and up again, through the trees and through the open places +I toiled and sweated; and every time I came out upon a ridge, expecting +to be at the top of somewhere, another ridge waited; and every time I +reached the bottom of a draw or gulch, expecting that here was my stream +or a trail, or both, I found that I was fooled again. + +This up and down country covered by timber is a mighty easy country to +be lost in. I wasn't lost--the stream was lost. No, I wasn't lost; but +when I came out upon a rocky ridge, and climbed to the top of a bunch of +granite there, the world was all turned around. Pilot Peak had changed +shape and was behind me when it ought to have been before. West was +west, because the sun was setting in it, but it seemed queer. You see, I +had been zigzagging about to make easy climbs out of draws and gulches, +and to dodge rocks and brush--and here I was. (Note 39.) + +You may believe that now I was mighty hungry and thirsty, and I was +tired, too. This was a fine place to see from, and I sat on a ledge and +looked about, mapping the country. That was Pilot Peak, away off on the +left; and that was the Medicine Range, on either side of it. It was the +range that we Scouts must cross, if ever we got to it. But between me +and the range lay miles of rolling timber, and all about below me lay +the timber, with here and there bare rocky points sticking up like the +tips of breakers in an ocean and here and there little winding valleys, +like the oily streaks in the ocean. Away off in one valley seemed to be +a cleared field where grain had been cut; but no ranch house was there. +It was just a patch. In all this big country I was the only +inhabitant--I and the wild things. + +Well, I must camp for the night. The sun was setting behind the +mountains. If I tried traveling blind by night I might get all tangled +up in the timber and brush and be in a bad fix. Up here it was dry and +open and the rocks would shelter me from the wind. I tried to be calm +and reasonable and use Scout sense; and I decided to stay right where I +was, till morning. + +But jiminy, I was hungry and thirsty, and I wanted a fire, too. This was +pretty good experience, to be lost without food or drink or matches, or +even a knife--it was pretty good experience if I managed right. + +There were plenty of dead dried branches scattered here among the +rocks, and pack-rats had made a nest of firewood. But first, as seemed +to me, I must get a drink and something for supper. I had only that one +arrow to depend on, for game, and if I waited much longer then I might +lose it in the dusk. Not an easy shot had shown itself, either, during +all the time I had been traveling. + +Water was liable to be down there somewhere, in those valleys, and I +looked to see which was the greenest or which had any willows. To the +greenest it seemed a long way. Then I had a clue. I saw a flock of +grouse. They sailed out from the timber and across and slanted down into +a gulch. More followed. They acted as if they were bound somewhere on +purpose, and I remembered that grouse usually drink before they go to +bed. + +These were so far away, below me, that I couldn't make out whether they +were sage grouse, or the blue grouse, or the fool grouse. If they were +sage grouse, I might not get near enough to them to shoot sure with my +one arrow. If they were blue grouse, that would be bad, too, for blue +grouse are sharp. If they were fool grouse, I ought to get one. I marked +exactly where they sailed for, and down I went, keeping my eye on the +spot. Now I must use Scoutcraft for water and food. If I couldn't manage +a fire, I could chew meat raw. + +Yes, I remembered that it was against the law to kill grouse, yet. I +thought about it a minute; and decided that the law did not intend that +a starving person should not kill just enough for meat when he had +nothing else. I was willing to tell the first ranger or game warden, and +pay a fine--but I must eat. And I hoped that what I was trying to do was +all right. Motives count, in law, don't they? + +Down I went, as fast as I could go. The sun was just sinking out of +sight. It was the lonesome time of day for a fellow without fire or food +or shelter, in the places where nobody lived, and I wouldn't have +objected much if I'd been home at the supper table. + +I reached the bottom of the hill. It ended at the edge of some aspens. +Their white trunks were ghostly in the twilight. Across through the +aspens I hurried, straight as I could go; and I came out into a grassy, +boggy place--a basin where water from the hills around was seeping! +Hurrah! It was a regular spring, and the water ran trickling away, down +through a gulch. + +Grasses grew high: wild timothy and wild oats and gama grass, mingled +with flowers. Along the trickle were willows, too. With the aspens and +the willows and the seed grasses and the water this was a fine place for +grouse. I looked for sign, on the edge of the wetness, and I saw where +birds had been scratching and taking dust baths, in a patch of sage. + +Stepping slowly, and keeping sharp lookout, I reconnoitered about the +place; I was so excited that I didn't stop to drink. And +suddenly--whirr-rr-rr! With a tremendous noise up flew two grouse, and +three more, and lit in the willows right before me. I guess I was +nervous, I wanted them so bad; for I jumped back and stumbled and fell, +and broke the arrow square in two with my knee. + +That made me sick. Here was my supper waiting for me, and I had spoiled +my chances. I wanted to cry. + +Those acted like fool grouse. They sat with their heads and necks +stretched, watching me and everything else. I picked up the two pieces +of my arrow; and then I looked about for a straight reed or willow twig +that might do. Something rustled right before me, and there was another +grouse! It had been sitting near enough to bite me and I hadn't seen it. + +By the feathers I knew it was a fool grouse. Was it going to fly, or +not? I stood perfectly still, and then I squatted gradually and gave it +time. After it had waggled its head around, it moved a little and began +to peck and cackle; and I could hear other cackles answering. If I only +could creep near enough to hit it with a stick. + +I reached a dead willow stick, and squatting as I was I hitched forward, +inch by inch. Whenever the grouse raised its silly head I scarcely +breathed. The grass was clumpy, and once behind a clump I wriggled +forward faster. With the clump between me and the grouse I approached as +close as I dared. The grouse was only four or five feet away. It must be +now or never, for when once the grouse began to fly for their night's +roost mine would go, too. + +Fool grouse you can knock off of limbs with a stone, or with a club when +they are low enough and when they happen to be feeling in the mood to be +knocked. Behind my clump I braced my toes, and out I sprang and swiped +hard, but the grouse fluttered up, just the same, squawking. I hit +again, hard and quick, and struck it down, and I pounced on it and had +it! Yes, sir, I had it! All around me grouse were flying and whirring +off, and those in the tree joined them; but I didn't care now. + +I lay on my stomach and took a long drink of water, and back I hustled +for camp. + +Down here the dark had gathered; but up on the hill the light stayed, +and of course the top of the hill, where my camp was, would be light +longest. Now if I only could manage a fire. I had an idea--a good Scout +idea. + +First I picked out a place for the night. In one spot the faces of two +rocks met at an angle. The grass here was dead and softish, and the wind +blowing off the snowy range on the west didn't get in. I gathered a +bunch of the grass, and tore my handkerchief with my teeth and mixed +some ravelings of that in and tied a nest, with a handle to it. Then I +got some of the dry twigs lying about, and had them ready. Then I found +a piece of flinty rock--I think it was quartzite; and I took off a shoe +and struck the rock on the hob nails, over the nest of grass. + +It worked! The sparks flew and landed in the loose knot, and I blew to +start them. After I had been trying, I saw a little smoke, and smelled +it; and so I grabbed the nest by its handle and swung it. It caught +fire, and in a jiffy I had it on the ground, with twigs across it--and I +was fixed. A fire makes a big difference. I wasn't lonesome any more. +This camp was home. (Note 40.) + +I was so hungry that I didn't more than half cook the grouse by holding +pieces on a stick over the blaze, trapper style. While I gnawed I went +out around the rocks and watched the sunset. It was glorious, and the +pink and gold lasted, with the snowy range and old Pilot Peak showing +sharp and cold against it. Up here I was right in the twilight, while +below the timber and the valleys were dark. + +I must collect wood while I could see, beginning with the pieces +furthest away. Down at the bottom of the hill I had marked a big branch; +and out I hiked and hauled it up. That camp looked grand when I came in +again; the bottom of the hill was gloomy, but here I had a fire. + +The sunset was done; everything was dark; the stars were shining all +through the sky; from the timber below queer cries and calls floated up +to me, but there was nothing to be afraid of. I was minding my business, +and animals would be minding theirs. So I moved the fire forward a +little from the angle of the rocks, and sat in the angle myself. Wow, +but it was warm and nice! I couldn't make a big fire, because I didn't +want to run out of fuel; but the little fire was better, as long as it +was large enough to be cheerful and to warm me. I spliced my broken +arrow with string. + +This was real Scout coziness. Of course, I sort of wished that Fitz or +little Jed Smith or somebody else was there, for company; but I'd done +pretty well. I tried to study the stars--but as I sat I kept nodding and +dozing off, and waking with a jerk, and so I pulled the thick part of +the branch across the fire and shoved in the scattered ends. Then I +wrapped the flags about my neck and over my head, and sitting flat with +my back against the rock I went to sleep. Indians say that they keep +warm best by covering their shoulders and head, even if they can't cover +their legs. + +Something woke me with a start. I lay shivering and listening. The fire +flickered low, the sky was close above me, darkness was around about, +and behind me was a rustle, rustle, patter, patter. At first I was silly +and frightened; but with a jump I quit that and ordered, loud: + +"Get out of there!" + +Wild animals are especially afraid of the human voice; and whatever this +was it scampered away. Then I decided that it was only a pack-rat. +Anyhow, there would be nothing out here in these hills to attack a human +being while he slept. Even the smell of a human being will keep most +animals off. They're suspicious of him. And I thought of the hundreds of +old-time trappers and hunters, and of the prospectors and ranchers and +range-riders, who had slept right out in the timber, in a blanket, and +who never had been molested at all. So I didn't reckon that anything was +going to climb this hill to get _me_! + +I stirred about and built the fire, and got warm. The Guardians of the +Pole had moved around a quarter of the clock, at least, and the moon was +away over in the west, so I knew that I must have slept quite a while. +(Note 41.) + +The night was very quiet. Here on the hill I felt like a Robinson Crusoe +marooned on his island. I stood and peered about; everywhere below was +the dark timber; the moon was about to set behind the snowy range; +overhead were the stars--thousands of them in a black sky, which curved +down on all sides. + +The Milky Way was plain. The Indians say that is the trail the dead +warriors take to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I could see the North Star, +of course, and I could see the Papoose on the Squaw's back, in the +handle of the Great Dipper; so I had Scout's eyesight. In the west was +the evening star--Jupiter, I guessed. Off south was the Scorpion, and +the big red star Antares. I wished that the Lost Children were dancing +in the sky, but they had not come yet. (Note 42.) + +It made me calm, to get out this way and look at the stars. I'd been +lucky, so far, to have fire and supper and a good camp, and I decided +that I would get that message--or help get it. Somewhere down in that +world of timber were Major Henry and Kit Carson and little Jed Smith, on +the trail; and General Ashley and wise Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, +planning to escape; and the man who had the message. And here was I, on +detail that seemed to have happened, and yet seemed to have been +ordered, too. And watchful and steady as the stars, above us was the +Great Commander, who knew just how things would come out, here in the +hills the same as in the cities. It's kind of comforting, when a fellow +realizes that he can't get lost entirely, and that Somebody knows where +he is and what he is doing, and what he wants to do. + +In the morning I would strike off southwest, and keep going until I came +to a trail where the beaver man had traveled, or until I had some sight +of him or news of him. + +By the Pointers it was midnight. So after thinking things over I fed the +fire and warmed my back; then I hunched into the angle and with the two +flags about my shoulders and over my head I started to snooze off. Some +animal kept rustling and pattering, but I let it rustle and patter. + +Just as I was snoozing, I remembered that to-morrow--that _to-day_ was +Sunday! Yes; I counted, and we had left town on Monday and we had been +out six days. I supposed that I ought to rest on Sunday; but I didn't +see how I could, fixed as I was; and I hoped that if I took the trail I +would be understood. (Note 43.) + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE RED FOX PATROL + + +When I woke up I was safe and sound, but I had thrown off the flags and +I was stiff and cold. Now I could see all about me--see the rocks and +the grass and the ashes of the fire; so morning had come. That was good. + +After I had yawned and stretched and straightened out, I gave a little +dance to start my circulation. Then I built the fire from the coals that +were left, and cooked the rest of the grouse, and had breakfast, chewing +well so as to get all the nourishment that I could. I climbed on a rock, +in the sun, like a ground-hog, to eat, and to look about at the same +time. And I saw smoke! + +The smoke was lifting above the timber away off, below. This was a fine +morning; a Sunday morning, peaceful and calm, and the smoke rose in a +little curl, as if it were from a camp or a chimney. I took that as a +good omen. Down I sprang, to my own fire; and heaped on damp stuff and +dirt, and using my coat made the private smoke signal of the Elk Patrol: +one puff, three puffs, and one puff. (Note 44.) But the other smoke +didn't answer. + +Then I thought of making the signal meaning "I am lost. Help"; but I +said to myself: "No, you don't. You're not calling for help, yet. You'd +be a weak kind of a Scout, to sit down and call for help. There's a sign +for you. Maybe that smoke is the beaver man. Sic him." And trampling out +my own fire, and stuffing the flags into my shirt and tying my jacket +around me, lining that other fire by a dead pine at the foot of the +hill, away I went. + +When I got to the dead pine I drew another bee-line ahead as far as I +could see, with a stump as the end, and followed that. But this was an +awful rough, thick country. First I got into a mess of fallen timber, +where the dead trunks were criss-crossed like jackstraws; and they were +smooth and hard and slippery, and I had to climb over and crawl under +and straddle and slide, and turn back several times, and I lost my +bee-line. But I set my direction again by the sun on my face. Next I ran +into a stretch of those small black-jacks, so thick I could scarcely +squeeze between. And when I came out I was hot and tired, I tell you! + +Now I was hungry, too, and thirsty; and I found that fire meant a whole +lot to me. If it didn't mean the man with the message, it meant food and +somebody to talk to, perhaps. The fallen timber and the black-jack +thicket had interfered with me so that I wasn't sure, any more, that I +was heading straight for the fire. Down into a deep gulch I must plunge, +and up I toiled, on the other side. It was about time that I climbed a +tree, or did something else, to locate that fire. When next I reached a +ridgy spot I chose a good pine and shinned it. From the top nothing was +visible except the same old sea of timber with island rocks spotting it +here and there, and with Pilot Peak and the snowy range in the wrong +quarter again. + +Of course, by this time the breakfast smoke would have quit. That made +me desperate. I shinned down so fast that a branch broke and I partly +fell the rest of the way along the trunk, and tore my shirt and scraped +a big patch of skin from my chest. This hurt. When I landed in a heap I +wanted to bawl. But instead, I struck off along the ridge, keeping high +so that if there was smoke I would see it, yet. + +The ridge ended in another gulch. I had begun to hate gulches. A +fellow's legs grow numb when he hasn't had much to eat. But into the +gulch I must go, and so down I plunged again. And when almost at the +bottom I _smelled_ smoke! I stopped short, and sniffed. It was wood +smoke--camp smoke. I must be near that camp-fire. And away off I could +hear water running. That was toward my left, so probably the smoke was +on my left, for a camp would be near water. It is hard to get direction +just by smell, but I turned and scouted along the side of the gulch, +halfway up, sniffing and looking. + +The brush was bad. It was as thick as hay and full of stickers, but I +worked my way through. If the camp was the camp of the beaver man with +the message, I must reconnoiter and scheme; if it was the camp of +somebody else, I would go down; and if I didn't know whose camp it was, +I must wait and find out. + +The brush held me and tripped me and tore my trousers and shirt, and was +wet and hot at the same time. Keeping high, I worked along listening and +sniffing and spying--_feeling_ for that camp, if it was a camp. Pretty +soon I heard voices. That was encouraging--unless the beaver man had +company. The brush thinned, and the gulch opened, and I was at the mouth +of it, with the water sounding louder. On my stomach I looked out and +down--and there was the place of the camp, at the mouth of the gulch, +where the pines and spruces met a creek, and two boys were just leaving +it. They had packs on their backs, and they were dressed in khaki and +were neat and trim. + +Down I went, sliding and leaping, head first or feet first, I didn't +care which, as long as I got there in time. The boys heard and turned +and stared, wondering. With my hands and face scratched, and my chest +skinned and my shirt and trousers torn, bearing my bow and my broken +arrow, like a wild boy I burst out upon them. Then suddenly I saw on the +sleeves of their khaki shirts the Scout badge. My throat was too dry and +my breath was too short for me to say a word, but I stopped and made the +Scout sign. They answered it; and they must have thought that I was +worse than I really was, because they came running. + +"The Elk Patrol, Colorado," I wheezed. + +"The Red Fox Patrol, New Jersey," they replied. "What's the matter?" + +"I'm glad to meet you," I said, silly after the run I had made on an +empty stomach; and we laughed and shook hands hard. + +They were bound to hold me up or examine me for wounds or help me in +some way, but I sat down of my own accord, to get my breath. + +They were First-class Scouts of the Red Fox Patrol of New Jersey, and +were traveling through this way on foot, from Denver, to meet the rest +of their party further on at the railroad, to do Salt Lake and then the +Yellowstone. They had had a late breakfast and a good clean-up, because +this was Sunday; and now they were starting on, for a walk while it was +cool, before they lay by again and waited till Monday morning. I had +reached them just in time; I think I'd have had tough work trailing +them. They looked as if they could travel some. + +Their clothes were the regulation Scouts uniform. One of them had a +splendid little twenty-two rifle, and the other had a camera. The name +of the boy with the rifle was Edward Van Sant; the name of the Scout +with the camera was Horace Ward. They seemed fine fellows--as Scouts +usually are. + +I don't know how they knew that I was hungry or faint, for I didn't say +that I was. But the first thing I did know Van Sant had unstrapped his +pack, and Ward had taken a little pan and had brought water from the +creek. Then a little alcohol stove appeared, and while we talked the +water was boiling, in a jiffy. Ward dropped into the water a cube, and +stirred--and there was a mess of soup, all ready! + +They made me drink it, although I kept telling them I was all right. It +tasted mighty good. They got out some first-aid dope, and washed my +skinned chest with a carbolic smelling wash and shook some surgical +powder over it, and put a bandage around, in great shape. Then they +washed my scratches and even sewed the worst of the tears in my clothes. +(Note 45.) + +By this time they knew my story. + +"Was he a dark-complexioned man, with a small face and no whiskers or +mustache?" + +"He was dark, but he had a mustache and fresh whiskers," I answered. + +"On a bay horse?" + +"On a bay, with a blazed forehead. Why?" + +"A man rode by here, last evening, along the trail across the creek. He +was dark-complexioned, he wore a black hat, and he rode a bay with a +mark on its shoulders like this--" and Ward drew in the dirt a K+. + +"That's a K Cross," I exclaimed. And I thought it was right smart of +them to notice even the brand. "He's the man, sure. He's shaved off his +mustache and whiskers, but he's riding the same horse." And I jumped up. +I felt strong and ready again. "Which way did he go?" + +Scout Van Sant pointed up the creek. "There's a trail on the other +side," he said. "You'll find fresh hoof marks in it." + +"Bueno," I said; and I extended my hand to shake with them, for I must +light right out. "I'm much obliged for everything, but I've got to catch +him. If you meet any of my crowd please tell 'em you saw me and I'm +O. K.; and if you're ever in Elk country don't fail to look us up. The +lodge door is always open." + +"Hold on," laughed Scout Ward. "You can't shoo us this way, unless +you'd rather travel alone. What's the matter with our going, too?" + +"Sure," said Scout Van Sant. + +"But your trail lies down creek, you said." + +"Not now. As long as you're in trouble your trail is our trail." + +Wasn't that fine! But-- + +"You'll miss your connections with the rest of your party," I objected. + +"What if we do? We're on the Scout trail, now, for business,--and +pleasure can wait. You couldn't handle that man alone--could you?" + +Well, I was going to try. But they wouldn't listen. And they wouldn't +let me carry anything. They slung their packs on their backs, we crossed +the creek on some stones, and taking the trail on the other side we +followed fast and steady, the horse's hoof-prints pointing up the creek. +One shoe had a bent nail-head. + +The Red Fox Scouts stepped along without asking any odds, although I was +traveling light. They walked like Indians. Scout Van Sant took the lead, +Scout Ward came next, and I closed the rear. Pretty soon Scout Van Sant +dropped back, behind me, and let Ward have the lead. I surmised he did +this to watch how I was getting on; but I had that soup in me, and my +second wind, and I didn't ask any odds, either. + +The hoof-prints were plain, and the trail was first rate; sometimes in +the timber and sometimes in little open patches, but always close to the +foaming creek. + +After we had traveled for about two hours, or had gone seven miles, we +stopped and rested fifteen minutes and had a dish of soup. The creek +branched, and one part entered a narrow, high valley, lined with much +timber. The other part, which was the main part, continued more in the +open. + +The hoofs with the bent nail-head quit, here; and as they didn't turn +off to the left, into the open country, they must have crossed to take +the gulch branch. An old bridge had been washed out, but the water was +shallow, and Scout Van Sant was over in about three jumps. After a +minute of searching he beckoned, and we skipped over, too. A small trail +followed the branch up the gulch, and the hoof-prints showed in it. + +Now we all smelled smoke again. It seemed to me that I had been smelling +it ever since that first time, but you know how a smell sometimes sticks +in the nose. Still, we all were smelling it, now, and we kept our eyes +and ears open for other sign of a camp. + +The water made a big noise as it dashed down; the gulch turned and +twisted, and was timbered and rocky; it grew narrower; and as we +advanced with Scout caution, looking ahead each time as far as we could, +on rounding an angle suddenly we came out into a sunny little park, +with flowers and grass and aspens and bowlders, the stream dancing +through at one edge, and an old dug-out beside the stream. + +It was an abandoned prospect claim, because on the hill-slope were some +old prospect holes and a dump. By the looks, nobody had been working +these holes for a year or two; but from the chimney of the dug-out a +thin smoke was floating. We instantly sat down, motionless, to +reconnoiter. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE MAN AT THE DUG-OUT + + +We couldn't see any sign, except those hoof-marks, and that fire. Nobody +was stirring, the sun shone and the chipmunks scampered and the aspens +quivered and the stream tinkled, and the place seemed all uninhabited by +anything except nature. We grew tired of waiting. + +"I'll go on to that dug-out," whispered Scout Ward. "If the man sees me +he won't know me, especially. I can find out if he's there, or who is +there." + +That sounded good; so he dumped his pack and while Scout Van Sant and I +stayed back he walked out, up the trail. We saw him turn in at the +dug-out and rap on the door. Nobody came. He hung about and eyed the +trail and the ground, and rapped again. + +"There's plenty of sign," he called to us; "and there's a loose horse +over across the creek." + +"Well, what of it?" growled a voice; and he looked, and we looked, and +we saw a man sitting beside a bowlder on the little slope behind the +dug-out. + +The man must have been watching, half hid, without moving. It was the +beaver man. He had an automatic pistol in his hand. This was my +business, now. So, just saying, "There he is!" I stood up and went right +forward. But Scout Van Sant followed. + +"I want that message," I said, as soon as I could. + +"What message?" he growled back, from over his gun. + +"That Scouts' message you took from the fellow who took it from us." + +"Oh, hello!" he grinned. "Were you there? They let you go, did they?" + +"No; I got away to follow you. I want that message." + +"Why, sure," he said. "If that's all you want." And he seemed relieved. +"Come and get it." He stuck his free hand behind him and fumbled, and +then he held up the package. + +I started right up, but Scout Ward sprang ahead of me. "I'll get it. You +and Van stay behind," he bade. + +He didn't wait for us to say yes, but walked for the rock; and just as +he reached it, and was stretching to take the package, the man, with a +big oath, jumped for him. + +Jumped for him, and grabbed for him, sprawling out like a black cougar. +Van Sant and I yelled, sharp; Ward dodged and tripped and went rolling; +and as the man jumped for him again I shot my arrow at him. I couldn't +help it, I was so mad. The arrow was crooked, where it had been mended +(I really didn't try to hurt him), and maybe it _went_ crooked; but +anyway it hit him in the calf of the leg and stayed there. I didn't +think I had shot so hard. + +The man uttered a quick word, and sat down. His face was screwed and he +glared about at us, with his pistol muzzle wavering and sweeping like a +snake's tongue. That arrow probably hurt. It hadn't gone in very far, +but it was stuck. + +"I'll kill one of you for that," he snarled. + +"No, you won't," answered Scout Ward, scrambling up and facing him. "If +you killed one you'd have to kill all three, and then you'd be hanged +anyway." + +"You got just what was coming to you for acting so mean," added Scout +Van Sant. "You grabbed for Ward and we had to protect him." + +They weren't afraid, a particle, either of them; but I was the one who +had shot the arrow, and all I could say was: "It isn't barbed. You can +pull it out." + +"Yes, and I'll get blood poisonin', mebbe," snarled the man. He kept us +covered with his revolver muzzle. "You git!" he ordered. + +With his other hand he worked at the arrow and pulled it out easily. +The point was red, but not very far up. + +"You'd better cut your trousers open, over that wound," called Scout Van +Sant. "Did you have on colored underdrawers?" + +"None o' your business," snarled the man. "You git, all of you." + +"Wait a minute. Don't use that old handkerchief," spoke Scout Ward. And +away he ran for the packs. They were very busy Scouts, those two, and +right up to snuff. The arrow wound seemed to interest them. He came +back, and I saw what he had. "Here," he called; "if you'll promise not +to grab me I'll come and dress that in first-class shape. You're liable +to have an infection, from dirt." + +"I'll infect _you_, if I ketch you," snarled the man, fingering his +wounded leg and dividing his glances between it and us. + +"Well, if you won't promise, I'll lay this on this rock," continued +Scout Ward, as cool as you please. "You ought to cut the cloth away from +that wound; then you dissolve this bichloride of mercury tablet in a +quart of water, and flush that hole out thoroughly; then you moisten a +pad of this cloth in the water and bind it on the hole with this +surgical bandage. See?" (Note 46.) + +"I'll bind you on a hole, if I ketch you," snarled the man. That hole +ached, I reckon. + +But Scout Ward advanced and laid the first-aid stuff on a stone about +ten feet from the man, so that he could crawl and get it. + +"Now hadn't you better give us that message? It's no good to you, and +it's done you harm enough," said Scout Van Sant. + +"Give you nothin', except a dose of lead, if you don't git out pronto," +snarled the man. "You git! Hear me? GIT! If you weren't kids, you'd git +something else beside jes' git. But I'm not goin' to tell you many more +times. GIT!" + +The Red Fox Patrol Scouts looked at me and I looked at them, and we +agreed--for the man was growing angrier and angrier. There was no sense +in badgering him. A fellow must use discretion, you know. + +"All right; we'll 'git,'" answered Scout Ward. "But we'll keep on your +trail till you turn over that message. You've no business with it." + +The man just growled, and as we turned away he began to pull his +trouser-leg up further and to fuss with his dirty sock and his pink +underdrawers there. Those were no things to have about an open wound. + +"You'd better use that first-aid wash and bandage," called back Scout +Ward. + +We went to the packs and the Red Fox Patrol Scouts slung them on. They +wouldn't let me carry one. We didn't know exactly what to do, now: +whether to go on and wait, or wait here, while we watched. Only-- + +"You Scouts take the trail for your rendezvous," I said. Rendezvous, you +know, is the place where Scouts come together; and these two boys were +on their way to meet the rest of their party, for Salt Lake and the +Yellowstone, when I had come in on them. + +"No," they said; "your trail is our trail. Scouts help each other. We +can meet our party somewhere later, and still be in time." + +Scouts mean what they say, so I didn't argue, and I was mighty glad to +have them along. We decided to follow the trail we were on for a little +way, and then to climb the side of the gulch and make Sunday camp where +we could watch the man's movements. + +We passed the dug-out; up back of it the beaver man was tying his +bandanna handkerchief around his leg! He didn't look at us, and he +hadn't touched the first-aid stuff on the rock. + +As we hiked on, I kept noticing that smell of smoke--a piny smoke; and +it did not come from the dug-out, surely. Now I remembered that I had +been smelling that piny smoke all day, and I laid it to the two +camp-fires, but I must have been mistaken. Or else there was another +fire, still--or I had the smell in my nose and couldn't get it out. When +you are in the habit of smelling for something, you keep thinking that +it is there, all the time. A Scout must watch his imagination, and not +be fooled by it. + +We climbed the side of the gulch, through the trees; the Red Fox boys +carried their packs right along, without resting any more than I did. +They were toughened to the long trail. The sun began to be clouded and +hazy. When we halted halfway up, and looked back and down, at the +dug-out, the man had hobbled across from the dug-out and was leading +back his horse. + +Just then Scout Ward spoke up. "It is smoke!" he exclaimed, puffing and +sniffing. "Boys, it's a forest fire somewhere." + +So they had been smelling it, too. + +I looked at the sun. The haze clouding it was the smoke! + +"Climb on top, so we can see," I said; and away we went. + +The timber was thick with spruces and pines. Up we went, among them, for +the top of the ridge. We came out into an open space; beyond, the ridge +fell away in a long slope of the timber, for the snowy range; and old +Pilot Peak was right before us, to the west. The sun was getting low, +and was veiled by smoke drifting across it. And on the right, distant a +couple of miles, up welled a great brownish-black mass from the fire +itself. + +A forest fire, and a big one! The smell was very strong. + +The Red Fox Scouts looked at me. "What ought we to do?" asked Scout Van +Sant. "Maybe you know more about these forest fires than we do." + +Maybe I did. The Rockies are places for big forest fires, all right, and +I'd heard the Guards and Rangers talk, in our town. The timber was dry +as a bone, at this time of year. The smoke certainly was drifting our +way. And fire travels up-hill faster than it travels down-hill. So this +ridge, surrounded by the timber, was a bad spot to be caught in, +especially if that fire should split and come along both sides. No +timber ridge for us! + +"Turn back and make for the creek; shall we?" proposed Scout Ward. + +That didn't sound good to me, somehow. The creek was beginning to pinch +out, this high up the gulch, and a fire would jump it in a twinkling. +And if anything should happen to us, down there,--one of us hurt +himself, you know, in hurrying,--we should be in a trap as the fire +swept across. Out of the timber was the place for us. + +But away across, an opposite slope rose to bareness, where were just +grass and rocks; and between was a long patch of aspens or willows, down +in the hollow. If we couldn't make the bareness, those aspens or willows +would be better than the pines and evergreens. They wouldn't burn so; +and if they were willows, they might be growing in a bog. + +"No," I said. "Let's strike across," and I explained. + +"But the man. Wait a minute. Maybe he doesn't know," said Scout Van +Sant; and away he raced, down and back for the dug-out. + +We followed, for of course we wouldn't let him go alone. As we ran we +all shouted, and at the dug-out we shouted, looking; but all that we saw +was the beaver man far off across the creek, riding through the timber. +He did not glance back; he kept on, riding slowly, headed for the fire. +That seemed bad. He was so angry that perhaps his judgment wasn't +working right, and he didn't pay much attention to the smell of smoke. +So all we could do was to race up the ridge again, get the packs, and +plunge down over for sanctuary. + +The wind was blowing toward the fire, as if sucked in. But I knew that +this would not hold the fire, because there would be another breeze, +low, carrying it along. With a big fire there always is a wind, sucked +in from all sides, as the hot air rises. + +Those Red Fox Scouts hiked well, loaded with their packs. I set the +pace, in a bee-line for the willows and aspens, and I was traveling +light, but they hung close behind. The altitude made them puff; they +fairly wheezed as we zigzagged down, among the trees; but we must get +out of this brush into the open. + +"Will we make it?" puffed Ward. + +"Sure," I said. But I was mighty anxious. It seemed to me that the +distance lengthened and lengthened and that I could feel the air getting +warm in puffs. This was imagination. + +"Look!" cried Van Sant. "What's that?" He stopped and panted and +pointed. + +"Bunch of deer!" cried Ward. + +It was. Not a bunch, exactly, but two does and three fawns, scampering +through the timber below, fleeing from the fire. They were bounding over +brush and over logs, their tails lifted showing the white--and next they +were out of sight in a hollow. They made a pretty sight, but-- + +"Frightened by the fire, aren't they?" asked Scout Van Sant, quietly, as +we jogged on. + +"Yes," I had to say. + +This looked serious. The fire might not be coming, and again it might. +Animals are wise. + +The smoke certainly was worse. The air certainly was warmer. The breeze +was changing, or else we were down into another breeze. Next I saw a +black, shaggy creature lumbering past, before, and I pointed without +stopping. They nodded. + +"Bear?" panted Ward. + +I nodded. The bear was getting out of the way, too. + +"Will we make it?" again asked Ward. + +"Sure," I answered. We _had_ to. + +On we plowed. We were almost at the bottom of the slope and we ought to +be reaching those willows and aspens. The brush was not so bad, now; but +the brush does not figure much in a forest fire when the flames leap +from tree-top to tree-top and make a crown fire. That is the worst of +all. This was hot enough to be a crown fire, if a breeze helped it. + +We saw lots of animals--rabbits and squirrels and porcupines and more +deer, and the birds were calling and fluttering. The smoke rasped our +throats; the air was thick with it and with the smell of burning pine. +And how we sweat. + +Then, hurrah! We were into the aspens. I tell you, their white trunks +and their green leaves looked good to me; but ahead of us was that other +slope to climb, before we were into the bareness. + +"Shall we go on?" asked Scout Van Sant. + +He coughed; we all coughed, as we wheezed. That had been a hard hike. +The air was hot, we could _feel_ the fire as the wind came in strong +puffs; everywhere animals were running and flying, and the aspens were +full of wild things, panicky. We had to decide quickly, for the fire was +much closer. + +"Are you good for another pull?" I asked. + +They grinned, out of streaming faces and white lips. + +"We'll make it if you can." + +But I didn't believe that we could. Up I went into an aspen, to +reconnoiter. + +"Be looking for wetness, or willows," I called down. They dropped their +packs and scurried. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FOILING THE FIRE + + +I don't know what a record I made in climbing that tree--an aspen's bark +is slick--but in a jiffy I was at the top and could peer out. (Note +47.) All the sky was smoke, veiling the upper end of the valley and of +the ridge. The ridge must be afire; the fire was spreading along our +side; and if we tried for the opposite slope and the bare spot we might +be caught halfway! Something whisked through the trees under me. It was +a coyote. And as I slid down like lightning, thinking hard as to what we +must do and do at once, I heard a calling and Van Sant and Ward came +rushing back. + +"We've found a place!" they cried huskily. "A boggy place, with willows. +Let's get in it." + +We grabbed the packs. I carried one, at last. Scout Ward led straight +for the place. Willows began to appear, clustering thick. That was a +good sign. The ground grew wet and soft, and slushed about our feet. I +tell you, it felt fine! + +"Will it do?" gasped Scout Ward, back. + +"Great!" I said. + +"It's occupied, but I guess we can squeeze in," added Van Sant. + +And sure enough. Animals had got here first; all kinds--coyotes, +rabbits, squirrels, skunks, porcupines, a big gray wolf, and a brown +bear, and one or two things whose names I didn't know. But we didn't +care. We forced right in, to the very middle; nothing paid much +attention to us, except to step aside and give us room. Of course the +coyotes snarled and so did the wolf; but the bear simply lay panting, he +was so fat. And we lay panting, too. + +We weren't any too soon. The air was gusty hot and gusty coolish, and +the smoke came driving down. We dug holes, so that the water would +collect, and so that we could dash it over each other if necessary. I +could reach with my hand and pet a rabbit, but I didn't. Nothing +bothered anything else. Even the coyotes and the wolf let the rabbits +alone. This was a sanctuary. There was a tremendous crashing, and a big +doe elk bolted into the midst of us. She was thin and quivery, and her +tongue was hanging out and her eyes staring. But she didn't stay; with +another great bound she was off, outrunning the fire. She probably knew +where she was going. + +We others lay around, flat, waiting. + +"Wish we were on her back," gasped Van Sant. + +"We're all right," I said. + +"Think so?" + +"Sure," I answered. + +They were game, those Red Fox Scouts. They never whimpered. We had done +the best we could, and after you've done the best you can there is +nothing left except to take what comes. And take it without kicking. As +for me, I was full of thought. I never had been in a forest fire, +before, but it seemed to me our chances were good. Only, I wondered +about General Ashley and Fitzpatrick, in the hands of that careless +gang; and about Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson, and about the +beaver man with the wounded leg. He'd have the hardest time of all. + +Now the smoke was so heavy and sharp that we coughed and choked. The air +was scorching. We could hear a great crackling and snapping and the +breeze withered the leaves about us. We burrowed. The animals around us +cringed and burrowed. The fire was upon us--and a forest fire in the +evergreen country is terrible. + +There was a constant dull roar; our willows swayed and writhed; the +rabbit crept right against me and lay shivering, and the coyotes +whimpered. I flattened myself, and so did the Red Fox Scouts; and with +my face in the ooze I tried to find cool air. + +The roaring was steady; and the crackling and snapping was worse than +any Fourth of July. Sparks came whisking down through the willows and +sizzled in the wetness. One lit on a coyote and I smelled burning hair; +and then one lit on me and I had to turn over and wallow on my back to +put it out. "Ouch!" exclaimed Van Sant; and one must have lit on him, +too. + +But that was not bad. If we could stand the heat, and not swallow it and +burn our lungs, we needn't mind the sparks; and maybe in ten or fifteen +minutes the worst would be over, when the branches and the brush had +burned. + +Of course the first few moments were the ticklish ones. We didn't know +what might happen. But we never said a word. Like the animals we just +waited, and hoped for the best. When I found that we weren't being +burned, and that the roaring and the crackling weren't harming us, I +lifted my head. I sat up; and the Red Fox Scouts sat up, cautiously. We +were still all right. The air was smoky, but the _fire_ hadn't got at +us--and now it probably wouldn't. But this was not at all like Sunday! + +The Red Fox Scouts were pale, under their mud; and so was I, I suppose. +I felt pale, and I felt weak and shaky--and I felt thankful. That had +been a mighty narrow escape for us. If we had not found the willows and +the wet, we would have died, it seemed to me. + +"How about it?" asked Scout Ward, huskily, and his voice trembled, but +I didn't blame him for that. "It's gone past, hasn't it?" + +"Yes," said I. And-- + +"We're still here," said Scout Van Sant. + +"Well," said Ward, soberly--and smiling, too, with cracked lips, "I know +how I feel, and I guess you fellows feel the same way. God was good to +us, and I want to thank Him." + +And we kept silent a moment, and did. + +The roaring had about quit and the crackling was not nearly so bad. The +air was not fiery hot, any more; it was merely warm. The attack had +passed, and we were safe. The rabbit beside me hopped a few feet and +squatted again, and the fat bear sat up and blinked about him with his +piggish eyes. It seemed to me that the animals were growing uneasy and +that perhaps the truce was over with. In that case, unpleasant things +were likely to happen, so we had better move out. + +"Shall we try it?" asked Van Sant. + +We picked up the packs and sticking close together moved on--dodging +another gray wolf and a coyote, and an animal that looked like a +carcajou or wolverine, which snarled at us and wouldn't budge. + +Of course, it was a little doubtful whether we could travel through +burned timber so soon after the fire had swept it. The ground would be +thick with coals and hot ashes, and trees would still be blazing. But +when we came out at the opposite edge of the willows and could see +through the aspens, the timber beyond did not look bad, after all. There +were a few burned places, but the fire had skirted the aspens on this +side only in spots, where cinders had lodged. + +So if we had kept going instead of having stopped in the willows we +might have reached the place beyond all right; but it would have been +taking an awful risk, and we decided that we had done the correct thing. + +Smoke still hung heavy and the smell of burning pine was strong, as we +threaded our way among the hot spots, making for the ridge beyond. That +bare place would be a good lookout, and we rather hankered for it, +anyway. We had crossed the valley, and as we climbed the slope we could +look back. The fire had covered both sides of the first ridge, and the +top, and if we had stayed there we would have been goners, sure, the way +matters turned out. It was a dismal sight, and ought to make anybody +feel sorry. Thousands of acres of fine timber had been killed--just +wasted. + +"What do you suppose started it?" asked Scout Ward. + +A camp-fire, probably. Lots of people, camping in the timber, either +don't know anything or else are out-and-out careless, like that gang +from town, or those two recruits who had not made good. And I more than +half believed that the fire might have started from their camps. + +All of a sudden we found that we were hungry. I had been hungry before +the fire, because I hadn't had much to eat for twenty-four hours; but +during the fire I had forgotten about it; and now we all were hungry. +However, after that fire we were nervous, in the timber, and we knew +that if we camped there we wouldn't sleep. So we pushed on through, to +camp on top, in the bare region, where we would be out of danger and +could see around. The Red Fox canteens would give us water enough. + +We came out on the bare spot. Away off to the right, along the side of +the ridge, figures were moving. They were human figures, not more wild +animals: two men and a pack burro. They were moving toward us, so we +obliqued toward them, with our shadows cast long by the low sun. The +grass was short and the footing was hard gravel, so that we could hurry; +and soon I was certain that I knew who those three figures were. One was +riding. + +The side of the ridge was cut by a deep gulch, like a canyon, with rocky +walls and stream rolling through along the bottom. We halted on our +edge, and the three figures came on and halted on their edge. They were +General Ashley and Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and Apache the black burro. +The general was riding Apache. I was glad to see them. + +"They're the two Elk Scouts who were captured," I said, to the Red Fox +Scouts; and I waved and grinned, and they waved back, and we all +exchanged the Scout sign. + +But that gorge lay between, and the water made such a noise that we +couldn't exchange a word. + +"Can they read Army and Navy wigwags?" asked Scout Ward. + +"Sure," I said. "Can you?" + +"Pretty good," he answered. "Shall I make a talk, or will you?" + +But I wasn't very well practiced in wigwags, yet; I was only a +Second-class Scout. + +"You," I said. "Do you want a flag?" + +But he said he'd use his hat. (Note 48.) + +He made the "attention" signal; and Fitzpatrick answered. Then he went +ahead, while Scout Van Sant spelled it out for me: + +"R--e--d F--o--x." + +And Fitz answered, like lightning: + +"E--l--k." + +"What shall I say?" asked Scout Ward of me, over his shoulder. + +"Say we're all right, and ask them how they are." + +He did. Scout Van Sant spelled the answer: + +"O. K. B--u--t c--a--n--t c--r--o--s--s. C--a--m--p t--i--l--l +m--o--r--n--i--n--g. A--s--h h--u--r--t." + +When we learned that General Ashley was hurt, and knew that he and +Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand were going to camp on the other side for the +night, the two Red Fox Scouts, packs and all, and I got through that +gulch somehow and up and out, where they were. It would have been a +shame to let a one-armed boy tend to the camp and to a wounded +companion, and do everything, if we could possibly help. Of course, Fitz +would have managed. He was that kind. He didn't ask for help. + +They were waiting; Fitz had unpacked the burro and was making camp. +General Ashley was sitting with his back against a rock. He looked pale +and worn. He had sprained his ankle, back there when we had all tried to +escape, yesterday, and it was swollen horribly because he had had to +step on it some and hadn't been able to give it the proper treatment. +(Note 49.) Fitz looked worn, too, and of course we three others +(especially I) showed travel, ourselves. + +After I had introduced the Red Fox Scouts to him and Fitz, then before +anything else was told I must report. So I did. But I hated to say it. I +saluted, and blurted it out: + +"I followed the beaver man and sighted him, sir, but he got away again, +with the message." + +The general did not frown, or show that he was disappointed or vexed. He +tried to smile, and he said: "Did he? That surely was hard luck then, +Jim. Where did he go?" + +"We were with Bridger, and it seems to us that he did the best he could. +The fire interrupted," put in Red Fox Scout Van Sant, hesitatingly. + +He spoke as if he knew that he had not been asked for an opinion, but as +a friend and as a First-class Scout he felt as though he ought to say +something. + +"The best is all that any Scout can do," agreed the general. "Go ahead, +Jim, and tell what happened." + +So I did. The general nodded. I hadn't made any excuses; I tried to tell +just the plain facts, and ended with our escape in the willows, from +that fire. + +"The report is approved," he said. "We'll get that beaver man yet. We +must have that message. Now Fitz can tell what happened to us. But we'd +better be sending up smoke signals to call in the other squad, in case +they're where they can see. Make the council signal, Bridger." + +Fitz had a fire almost ready; the Red Fox Scouts helped me, and gathered +smudge stuff while I proceeded to send up the council signal in the Elks +code. Fitz talked while he worked. The general looked on and winced as +his ankle throbbed. But he was busy, too, fighting pain. + +Fitz told what had happened to them, after I had escaped. He and the +general had been taken back by the gang, and tied again, and camp was +broken in a hurry because the gang feared that now I would lead a +rescue. They were mean enough to make the general limp along, without +bandaging his foot, until he was so lame that he must be put on a horse. +The camp-fire was left burning and the bacon was forgotten. They climbed +a plateau and dropped into a flat, and following up very fast had curved +into the timber to cross another ridge into Lost Park and on for the +Divide by way of Glacier Lake. That is what the general and Fitz +guessed. That night they all camped on the other side of the timber +ridge, at the edge of Lost Park. They were in a hurry, still, and they +made their fire in the midst of trees where they had no business to make +it. They slept late, as they always did, and not having policed the camp +or put out their fire, scarcely had they plunged into Lost Park, the +next morning, when one of them looking back saw the trees afire where +they had been. + +Lost Park is a mean place; the brush makes a regular jungle of it, and +fire would go through it as through a hayfield. That fact and their +guilty conscience made them panicky. It's a pretty serious thing, to +start a forest fire. So they didn't know what to do; some wanted to go +one way, and some another; the fire grew bigger and bigger, and the +cattle and game trails wound and twisted and divided so that the gang +were separated, in the brush, and it was every man for himself. The +general was riding Mike Delavan's horse, and Mike ordered him down and +climbed on himself and made off; and the first thing the general and +Fitz knew they were abandoned. That is what they would have maneuvered +for, from the beginning, and it would have been easy, as Scouts, to work +it, among those blind trails, but the general couldn't walk. Perhaps it +was by a mistake that they were abandoned; everybody may have thought +that somebody else was tending to them, and Mike didn't know what he was +doing, he was so excited. But there they were. + +The general tried to hobble, and Fitz was bound that he would carry +him--good old Fitz, with the one arm! The bushes were high, the smoke +where the fire was mounted more and more and spread as if the park was +doomed, and the crashing and shouting and swearing of the gang faded and +died away in the distance. Then the general and Fitz heard something +coming, and down the trail they were on trotted Apache the burro! He +must have turned back or have entered by a cross trail. Whew, but they +were glad to see Apache! Fitz grabbed him by the neck rope. He had a +flat pack tied on with our rope, did Apache, and Fitz hoisted the +general aboard, and away they hiked, with the general hanging on and his +foot dangling. + +Now that they could travel and head as they pleased, they worked right +back, out of the park, and by a big circuit so as not to run into the +gang they circled the fire and tried to strike the back trail somewhere +so as to meet Major Henry and Carson and Smith, who might be on it. But +they came out upon this plateau, and sighted us, and then we all met at +the edge of the gulch. + +That was the report of Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand. He and the general +certainly had been through a great deal. + +During the story the Red Fox Scouts and I had been making the smoke +signal over and over again. "Come to council," I sent up, while they +helped to keep the smudge thick. "Come to council," "Come to council," +for Major Henry and Kit and Jed, wherever they might be. But we were so +interested in Fitz's story, how he and the general got away from the +gang and from the fire, that sometimes we omitted to scan the horizon. +The general didn't, though. He is a fine Scout. + +"There's the answer!" he said suddenly. "They've seen! The fire didn't +get them. Hurrah!" + +And "Hurrah!" we cheered. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +ORDERS FROM THE PRESIDENT + +(THE ADVENTURES OF THE MAJOR HENRY PARTY) + + +I am Tom Scott, or Major Andrew Henry, second in command of the Elk +Patrol Scouts which set out to take that message over the range. So now +I will make a report upon what happened to our detail after General +Ashley and Fitzpatrick and Bridger left, upon the trail of the two boys +who had stolen our flags and burros. + +We waited as directed all day and all night, and as they did not come +back or make any signal, in the morning we prepared to follow them. +First we sent up another smoke for half an hour, and watched for an +answer; but nothing happened. Then we cached the camp stuff by rolling +in the bedding, with the tarpaulins on the outside, what we couldn't +carry, and stowing it under a red spruce. The branches came down clear +to the ground, in a circle around, and when we had crawled in and had +covered the bundle with other boughs and needles, it couldn't be seen +unless you looked mighty close. + +We erased our tracks to the tree, and made two blazes, on other trees, +so that our cache was in the middle of a line from blaze to blaze. Then +we took sights, and wrote them down on paper, so that none of us would +forget how to find the place. (Note 50.) + +We each had a blanket, rolled and slung in army style, with a string run +through and tied at the ends. I carried the twenty-two rifle, and we +stuffed away in our clothes what rations we could. In my blanket I +carried the other of our lariat ropes. We might need it. + +So the time was about ten o'clock before we started. The trail was more +than twenty-four hours old, but our Scouts had made it plain on purpose, +and we followed right along. Of course, I am sixteen and Kit Carson is +thirteen and little Jed Smith is only twelve, so I set my pace to +theirs. A blanket roll weighs heavy after you have carried it a few +miles. + +But we stopped only twice before we reached a sign marked in the ground: +"Look out!" The trail faltered, and an arrow showed which way to go, and +we came to the spot where the Scouts had peeped over into the draw and +had seen the enemy. Here another arrow pointed back, and we understood +exactly what had happened. + +We took the new direction. The three Scouts had left as plain a trail as +they could by breaking branches and disturbing pebbles, and treading in +single file. Jed Smith was awful tired, by this time, for the sun was +hot and we hadn't halted to eat. But picking the trail we made the +circuit around the upper end of the draw and climbed the opposite ridge. +The trail was harder to read, here, among the grass and rocks. + +By the sun it was the middle of the afternoon, now, and we must have +been on the trail five hours. We waited, and listened, and looked and +smelled, feeling for danger. We must not run into any ambuscade. A +little gulch, with timber, lay just ahead, and a haze of smoke floated +over it. + +This spelled danger. It was not Scouts' smoke, because Scouts would not +be having a fire, at this time of day, smoking so as to betray their +position. When we made a smoke, we made it for a purpose. The place must +be reconnoitered. + +We spread. I took the right, Kit Carson the left, and Jed Smith was put +in the middle because he was the littlest. It would have been good if we +could have left our blanket rolls, but we did not dare to. Of course, if +we were chased, we might have to drop them and let them be captured. + +We crossed a cow-path, leading into the gulch. It held burro tracks, +pointing down; and it seemed to me that if there was any ambuscade down +there it would be along this trail. Naturally, the enemy would expect us +to follow the trail. Maybe the other Scouts had followed it and had +been surrounded. So we crossed the trail, and I signed to Carson and to +Smith to move out across the gulch and around by the other side. + +We did. Cedars and spruces were scattered about, and gooseberry bushes +and other brush were screen enough; we swung down along the opposite +side, and the smoke grew stronger. But still we could not hear a sound. +We closed in, peering and listening--and then suddenly I wasn't afraid, +or at least, I didn't care. Through the stems of the trees was an open +park, at the foot of the gulch, and if there was a camp nobody was at +home, for the park was afire! + +"Come on!" I shouted. "Fire!" and down I rushed. So did Carson and Jed +Smith. + +We were just in time. The flames had spread from an old camp-fire and +had eaten along across the grass and pine needles and were among the +brush, getting a good start. Already a dry stump was blazing; and in +fifteen minutes more a tree somewhere would have caught. And then--whew! + +But we sailed into it, stamping and kicking and driving it back from the +brush. + +"Wet your blanket, Jed," I ordered, "while we fight." + +A creek was near, luckily; Jed wet his blanket, and we each in turn wet +our blankets; and swiping with the rolls we smashed the line of fire +right and left, and had it out in just a few minutes. + +Now a big blackened space was left, like a blot; and the burning and our +trampling about had destroyed most of the sign. But we must learn what +had happened. We got busy again. + +We picked up the cow-path, back in the gulch, and found that the burros +had followed it this far. We found where the burros had been grazing and +standing, in the brush, near the burned area, and we found where horses +had been standing, too! We found fish-bones, and coffee-grounds dumped +from the little bag they had been boiled in, and a path had been worn to +the creek. We found in the timber and brush near by other sign, but we +missed the second warning sign. However, where the fire had not reached, +on the edge of the park, we found several pieces of rope, cut, lying +together, and in a soft spot of the turf here we found the hob-nail +prints of the Elk Patrol! By ashes we found where the main camp-fire had +been, and we found where a second smaller camp-fire had been, at the +edge of the park, and prints of shoes worn through in the left sole--the +shoes of the beaver man! We found a tin plate and fork, by the big +camp-fire, and wrapped in a piece of canvas in a spruce was a hunk of +bacon. By circling we found an out-going trail of horses and burros. We +found the out-going trail of the beaver man--or of a single horse, +anyway, but no shoe prints with it. But looking hard we found Scout +sole prints in the horse and burro trail. + +By this time it was growing dusk, and Jed Smith was sick because he had +drunk too much water out of the creek, when he was tired and hot and +hungry. So we decided to stay here for the night. From the signs we +figured out what might have happened: + +According to the tracks, the burro thieves had joined with this camp. +Our fellows had sighted the burro thieves, back where the "Look out" +sign had been made, and had circuited the draw so as to keep out of +sight themselves, and had taken the trail again on the ridge. They had +followed along that cow-path, and had been ambushed. The cut ropes +showed that they had been tied. This camp had been here for two or three +days, because of the path worn to the creek and because of the coffee +grounds and the fish bones and the other sign. It was a dirty camp, too, +and with its unsanitary arrangements and cigarette butts and tobacco +juice was such a camp as would be made by that town gang. The sign of +the cut ropes looked like the town gang, too. The camp must have broken +up in a hurry, and moved out quick, by the things that were forgotten. +Campers don't forget bacon, very often. The cut ropes would show haste, +and we might have thought that the Scout prisoners had escaped, if we +hadn't found their sole prints with the out-going trail. These prints +had been stepped on by burros, showing that the burros followed behind. +What the beaver man was doing here we could not tell. + +So we guessed pretty near, I think. + +Little Jed Smith had a splitting headache, from heat and work and +water-drinking. His tongue looked all right, so I decided it was just +tiredness and stomach. One of the blankets was dry; we wrapped him up +and let him lie quiet, with a wet handkerchief on his eyes, and I gave +him a dose of aconite, for fever. (Note 51.) + +At this time, we know now, General Ashley and Thomas Fitzpatrick were +being hustled along one trail, captives to the gang; the beaver man was +on a second trail, with our message; and Jim Bridger was on his lone +scout in another direction, and just about to make a camp-fire with his +hob-nails and a flint. + +The dusk was deepening, and Kit Carson and I went ahead settling camp +for the night. We built a fire, and spread the blankets, and were making +tea in a tin can when we heard hoof thuds on the cow-path. A man rode in +on us. He was a young man, with a short red mustache and a peaked hat, +and a greenish-shade Norfolk jacket with a badge on the left breast. A +Forest Ranger! Under his leg was a rifle in scabbard. + +"Howdy?" he said, stopping and eying us. + +Kit Carson and I saluted him, military way, because he represented the +Government, and answered: "Howdy, sir?" + +He was cross, as he gazed about. + +"What are you lads trying to do? Set the timber afire?" he scolded. He +saw the burned place, you know. + +"We didn't do that," I answered. "It was afire when we came in and we +put it out." + +He grunted. + +"How did it start?" + +"A camp-fire, we think." + +He fairly snorted. He was pretty well disgusted and angered, we could +see. + +"Of course. There are more blamed fools and down-right criminals loose +in these hills this summer than ever before. I've done nothing except +chase fires for a month, now. Who are you fellows?" + +"We're a detail of the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of +America." + +"Well, I suppose you've been taught about the danger from camp-fires, +then?" + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"Bueno," he grunted. "Wish there were plenty more like you. Every person +who leaves a live camp-fire behind him, anywhere, ought to be made to +stay in a city all the rest of his life." (Note 52.) + +He straightened in his saddle and lifted the lines to ride on. But his +horse looked mighty tired and so did he; and as a Scout it was up to me +to say: "Stop off and have supper. We're traveling light, but we can set +out bread and tea." + +"Sure," added Kit Carson and Jed Smith. + +"No, thanks," he replied. "I've got a few miles yet to ride, before I +quit. And to-morrow's Sunday, when I don't ride much if I can help it. +So long." + +"So long," we called; and he passed on at a trot. + +We had supper of bread and bacon and tea. The bread sopped in bacon +grease was fine. Jed felt better and drank some tea, himself, and ate a +little. It was partly a hunger headache. We pulled dead grass and cut +off spruce and pine tips, and spread a blanket on it all. The two other +blankets we used for covering. Our coats rolled up were pillows. We +didn't undress, except to take off our shoes. Then stretched out +together, on the one-blanket bed and under the two blankets, we slept +first-rate. Jed had the warm middle place, because he was the littlest. + +As I was commander of the detail I woke up first in the morning, and +turned out. After a rub-off at the creek I took the twenty-two and went +hunting for breakfast. I saw a rabbit; but just as I drew a bead on him +I suddenly remembered that this was _Sunday morning_--and I quit. +Sunday ought to be different from other days. So I left him hopping and +happy, and I went back to camp. Jed and Kit had the fire going and the +water boiling; and we breakfasted on tea and bread and bacon. + +Then we policed the camp, put out the fire, every spark, and took the +burro and horse trail, to the rescue again. We must pretend that this +was only a little Sunday walk, for exercise. + +After a while the trail crossed the creek at a shallow place, and by a +cow-path climbed the side of a hill. Before exposing ourselves on top of +the hill we crawled and stuck just our heads up, Indian scouts fashion, +to reconnoiter. The top was clear of enemy. Sitting a minute, to look, +we could see old Pilot Peak and the snowy range where we Scouts ought to +be crossing, bearing the message. We believed that now the gang with +prisoners were traveling to cross the range, too. They had the message, +of course, and that was bad, unless we could head them off. So we sort +of hitched our belts another notch and traveled as fast as we could. + +The hill we were on spread into a plateau of low cedars and scrubby +pines; the snowy range, with Pilot Peak sticking up, was before. After +we had been hiking for two or three hours, off diagonally to the left we +saw a forest fire. This was thick timber country, and the fire made a +tremendous smoke. It was likely to be a big fire, and we wondered if the +ranger was fighting it. As for us, we were on the trail and must hurry. + +We watched the fire, but we were not afraid of it, yet. The plateau was +too bare for it, if it came our way. The smoke grew worse--a black, +rolling smoke; and we could almost see the great sheets of flame +leaping. We were glad we weren't in it, and that we didn't know of +anybody else who was in it. But whoever had set it had done a dreadful +thing. + +The trail of the burros and of the horses, mixed, continued on, and left +the plateau and dipped down into a wide flat, getting nearer to the +timber on the slope opposite. Then out from our left, or on the fire +side, a man came riding hard. He shouted and waved at us, so we stopped. + +He was the Ranger. I tell you, but he looked tired and angry. His eyes +were red-rimmed and his face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and holes +were burned in his clothes and his horse's hide. + +"I want you boys," he panted, as soon as he drew up. "We've got to stop +that fire. See it?" + +Of course we'd seen it. But--it wasn't any of our business, was it? + +"I want you to hurry over there to a fire line and keep the fire from +crossing. Quick! Savvy?" + +"I don't believe we can, sir," I said. "We're on the trail." + +"What difference does that make?" + +"We're after a gang who have three of our men and we want to stop them +before they cross the range." + +"You follow me." + +"I'm sorry," I said; "but we're trailing. We're obeying orders." + +"Whose orders?" + +"Our Patrol leader's." + +"Who's he?" + +"General Ashley--I mean, Roger Franklin. He's another boy. But he's been +captured and two of our partners. We're to follow and rescue them. We've +got to go." + +"No, you haven't," answered the Ranger. "Not until after this fire is +under control. You'll be paid for your time." + +"We don't care anything about the pay," said Kit Carson. "We've got to +go on." + +"Well, I'm giving you higher orders from a higher officer, then," +retorted the Ranger. "I'm giving you orders from the President of the +United States. This is Government work, and I'm representing the +Government. I reckon you Boy Scouts want to support the Government, +don't you?" + +Sure we did. + +"If that fire goes it will burn millions of dollars' worth of timber, +and may destroy ranches and people, too. It's your duty now to help the +Government and to put it out. Your duty to Uncle Sam is bigger than any +duty to private Scouts' affairs. And it is the law that anybody seeing a +forest fire near him shall report it or aid in extinguishing it. Now, +are you coming, or will you sneak off with an excuse?" + +"Why--coming!" we all cried at once. We hated to leave the trail--to +leave the general and Fitz and Jim Bridger and the message to their +fate; but the Government was calling, here, and the first duty of good +Scouts is to be good citizens. + +"Pass up your blanket rolls," ordered the Ranger. "You smallest kid +climb behind me. Each of you two others catch hold of a stirrup. Then we +can make time across." + +In a second away we all went at a trot, heading for the timber and the +fire. + +"I rode right through that fire to get you," said the Ranger. "I saw +you. I've got two or three guards working up over the ridge. Your job is +to watch a fire line that runs along this side of the base of that point +yonder. One end of the fire line is a boggy place with willows and +aspens; and if we can keep the fire from jumping those willows and +starting across, down the valley, and those fellows on the other side of +the ridge can head it off, in their direction, then we'll stop it by +back-firing at the edge of Brazito canyon." + +He talked as rapidly as we moved--and that was good fast Scouts' trot, +for us. The hold on the stirrups and latigos helped a lot. It lifted us +over the ground. We all crossed the flat diagonally and struck into a +draw or valley full of timber and with a creek in it, at right angles to +the flat. Up this we scooted, hard as we could pelt. + +"Tired? Want to rest a second?" he asked. + +We grunted "No," for we had our second wind and little Jed Smith was +hanging on tight, behind the saddle. Besides, the fire was right ahead, +toward the left, belching up its great rolls of black-and-white smoke. +And at the same time (although we didn't know it) the gang who had +started it were fleeing in one direction, from it, and the general and +Fitzpatrick were loose and fleeing in another direction, and Jim Bridger +was smelling it and with the Red Fox Patrol was drawing near to it and +not knowing, and the beaver man was tying up his leg and about to run +right into it. + +But we were to help stop it. + +"Here!" spoke the Ranger. "Here's the fire line, this cleared space like +a trail. It runs to those willows a quarter of a mile below. When the +fire comes along this ridge you watch this line and beat out and stamp +out every flame. See? You can do it. It won't travel fast, down-hill; +but if ever it crosses the line and reaches the bottom of the valley +where the brush is thick, there's no knowing where it will stop. It will +burn willows and everything else. One of you drop off here; I'll take +the others further. Then I must make tracks for the front." + +We left Kit Carson here. Jed Smith climbed down and was left next, in +the middle, and I was hustled to the upper end. + +"So long," said the Ranger. "Don't let it get past you. It won't. Work +hard, and if you're really in danger run for the creek. But Boy Scouts +of America don't run till they have to. You can save lives and a heap of +timber, by licking the fire at this point. I'll see you later." And off +he spurred, through the timber, across the front of the fire. + +He wasn't afraid--and so we weren't, either. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE CAPTURE OF THE BEAVER MAN + + +The fire line looked like some old wood-road, where trees had been cut +out and brush cleared away. It extended through the timber, striking the +thin places and the rocky bare places, and the highest places, and wound +on, half a mile, over a point. This point, with a long slope from the +ridge to the valley there, was open and fire-proof. The lower end of the +line was that willow bog, which lay in a basin right in a split of the +timber. Away across from our ridge was another gravelly ridge, and +beyond that was the snowy range. (Note 53.) + +The smoke was growing thick and strong, so that we could smell it plain. +The fire was coming right along, making for us. There were the three of +us to cover a half-mile or more of fire line, so we got busy. We divided +the line into three patrols, and set to work tramping down the brush on +the fire side of it and making ready. + +Pretty soon wild animals began to pass, routed out by the fire. That was +fun, to watch deer and coyotes and rabbits and other things scoot by, +among the trees, as if they were moving pictures. Once I saw a wolf, +and little Jed Smith called that he had seen a bear. Kit Carson reported +that some of the animals seemed to be heading into the willow bog beyond +his end of the line. + +It was kind of nervous work, getting ready and waiting for the fire. It +was worse than actual fighting, and we'd rather meet the fire halfway +than wait for it to come to us. But we were here to wait. + +The fire did not arrive all at once, with a jump. Not where I was. A +thin blue smoke, lazy and harmless, drifted through among the trees, and +a crackling sounded louder and louder. Then there were breaths of hot +air, as if a dragon was foraging about. Birds flew over, calling and +excited, and squirrels raced along, and porcupines and skunks, and even +worms and ants crawled and ran, trying to escape the dragon. A wind +blew, and the timber moaned as if hurt and frightened. I felt sorry for +the pines and spruces and cedars. They could not run away, and they were +doomed to be burnt alive. + +The birds all had gone, worms and ants and bugs were still hurrying, and +the timber was quiet except for the crackling. Now I glimpsed the dragon +himself. He was digging around, up the slope a little way, extending his +claws further and further like a cat as he explored new ground and +gathered in every morsel. + +This is the way the fire came--not roaring and leaping, but sneaking +along the ground and among the bushes, with little advance squads like +dragon's claws or like the scouts of an army, reconnoitering. The +crackling increased, the hot gusts blew oftener, I could see back into +the dragon's great mouth where bushes and trees were flaming and +disappearing--and suddenly he gave a roar and leaped for our fire line, +and ate a bush near it. + +Then I leaped for him and struck a paw down with my stick. So we began +to fight. + +It wasn't a crown fire, where the flames travel through the tops of the +timber; it traveled along the ground, and climbed the low trees and then +reached for the big ones. But when it came near the fire line, it +stopped and felt about sort of blindly, and that was our chance to jump +on it and stamp it out and beat it out and kill it. + +The smoke was awful, and so was the heat, but the wind helped me and +carried most of it past. And now the old dragon was right in front of +me, raging and snapping. The fore part of him must be approaching Jed +Smith, further along the line. I whistled the Scout whistle, loud, and +gave the Scout halloo--and from Jed echoed back the signal to show that +all was well. + +This was hot work, for Sunday or any day. The smoke choked and blinded, +and the air fairly scorched. Pine makes a bad blaze. What I had to do +was to run back and forth along the fire line, crushing the dragon's +claws. My shoes felt burned through and my face felt blistered, and +jiminy, how I sweat! But that dragon never got across my part of the +fire line. + +The space inside my part was burnt out and smoldering, and I could join +with Jed. There were two of us to lick the fire, here; but the dragon +was raging worse and the two of us were needed. He kept us busy. I +suppose that there was more brush. And when we would follow him down, +and help Kit, he was worse than ever. How he roared! + +He was determined to get across and go around that willow bog. Once he +did get across, and we chased him and fought him back with feet and +hands and even rolled on him. A bad wind had sprung up, and we didn't +know but that we were to have a crown fire. The heat would have baked +bread; the cinders were flying and we must watch those, to catch them +when they landed. We had to be everywhere at once--in the smoke and the +cinders and the flames, and if I hadn't been a Scout, stationed with +orders, I for one would have been willing to sit and rest, just for a +minute, and let the blamed fire go. But I didn't, and Kit and Jed +didn't; all of a sudden the dragon quit, and with roar and crackle went +plunging on, along the ridge inside the willow bog. We had held the fire +line--and we didn't know that Jim Bridger and the Red Fox Scouts were +in those willows which we had saved because we had been ordered to! + +Then, when just a few little blazes remained to be trampled and beaten +out, but while the timber further in was still aflame, Jed cried: +"Look!" and we saw a man coming, staggering and coughing, down through a +rocky little canyon which cut the black, smoking slope. + +He fell, and we rushed to get him. + +Blazing branches were falling, all about; the air was two hundred in the +shade; and in that little canyon the rocks seemed red-hot. But the fire +hadn't got into the canyon, much, because it was narrow and bare; and +the man must have been following it and have made it save his life. He +was in bad shape, though. Before we reached him he had stood up and +tumbled several times, trying to feel his way along. + +"Wait! We're coming," I called. He heard, and tried to see. + +"All right," he answered hoarsely. "Come ahead." + +We reached him. Kit Carson and I held him up by putting his arms over +our shoulders, and with Jed walking behind we helped him through the +canyon and out to the fire line. He groaned and grunted. His eyebrows +were crisped and his hair was singed and his shoes were cinders and his +hands and face were scarred, and his eyes were all bloodshot, and he had +holes through his clothes. + +"Fire out?" he asked. "I can't see." + +"It isn't out, but it's past," said Jed. + +"Well, it mighty near got _me_," he groaned. "It corralled me on that +ridge. If I hadn't cached myself in that little canyon, I'd have been +burned to a crisp. It burned my hoss, I reckon. He jerked loose from me +and left me to go it alone with my wounded leg. Water! Ain't there a +creek ahead? Gimme some water." + +While he was mumbling we set him down, beyond the fire line. It didn't +seem as though we could get him any further. Kit hustled for water, Jed +skipped to get first-aid stuff from a blanket-roll, and I made an +examination. + +His face and hands were blistered--maybe his eyes were scorched--there +was a bloody place wrapped about with a dirty red handkerchief, on the +calf of his left leg. But I couldn't do much until I had scissors or a +sharp knife, and water. + +"Who are you kids?" he asked. "Fishin'?" He was lying with his eyes +closed. + +"No. We're some Boy Scouts." + +He didn't seem to like this. "Great Scott!" he complained. "Ain't there +nobody but Boy Scouts in these mountains?" + +Just then Kit came back with a hat of water from a boggy place. It was +muddy water, but it looked wet and good, and the man gulped it down, +except what I used to soak our handkerchiefs in. Kit went for more. Jed +arrived with first-aid stuff, and I set to work, Jed helping. + +We let the man wipe his own face, while we cut open his shirt where it +had stuck to the flesh. + +"Here!" he said suddenly. "Quit that. What's the matter with you?" + +But he was too late. When I got inside his undershirt, there on a +buckskin cord was hanging something that we had seen before. At least, +it either was the message of the Elk Patrol or else a package exactly +like it. + +"Is that yours?" I asked. + +"Maybe yes, and maybe no. Why?" he growled. + +"Because if it isn't, we'd like to know where you got it." + +"And if you don't tell, we'll go on and let you be," snapped little Jed. + +"Shut up," I ordered--which wasn't the right way, but I said it before I +thought. Jed had made me angry. "No, we won't." And we wouldn't. Our +duty was to fix him the best we could. "But that looks like something +belonging to us Scouts, and it has our private mark on it. We'd like to +have you explain where you got it." + +"He's _got_ to explain, too," said little Jed, excited. + +"Have I?" grinned the man, hurting his face. "Why so?" + +"There are three of us kids. We can keep sight of you till that Ranger +comes back. He'll make you." + +"Who?" + +"That Forest Ranger. He's a Government officer." + +Kit Carson arrived, staring, with more water. + +"I know you!" he panted. He signed to us, pointing at the man's feet. +"You were at that other camp!" And Jed and I looked and saw the hole in +the left sole--although both soles were badly burned, now. By that mark +he was the beaver man! He wriggled uneasily as if he had a notion to sit +up. + +"Well, if you want it so bad, and it's yours, take it." And in a jiffy I +had cut it loose with my knife. "It's been a hoodoo to me. How did you +know I was at any other camp? Are you those three kids?" + +"We saw your tracks," I answered. "What three kids?" + +"The three kids those other fellows had corralled." + +"No, but we're their partners. We're looking for them." + +He'd had another drink of water and his face squinted at us, as we +fussed about him. Kit took off one of the shoes and I the other, to get +at the blistered feet. + +"Never saw you before, did I?" + +"Maybe not." + +"Well, I'll tell you some news. One of your partners got away." + +That was good. + +"How do you know?" we all three asked. + +"I met him, back on the trail, with two new kids." + +"Which one was he? What did he look like?" + +"A young lad, dressed like you. Carried a bow and arrow." + +"Brown eyes and big ears?" + +"Brown eyes, I reckon. Didn't notice his ears." + +That must have been Jim Bridger. + +"Who were the two fellows?" + +"More of you Scouts, I reckon. Carried packs on their backs. Dressed in +khaki and leggins, like soldiers." + +They weren't any of us Elks, then. But we were tremendously excited. + +"When?" + +"This noon." + +That sure was news. Hurrah for Jim Bridger! + +"Did you see a one-armed boy?" + +"Saw him in that camp, where the three of 'em were corralled." + +"What kind of a crowd had they? Was one wearing a big revolver?" + +"Yes. 'Bout as big as he was. They looked like some tough town bunch." + +"How many?" + +"Eight or ten." + +Oho! + +"Did you hear anybody called Bill?" + +"Yes; also Bat and Mike and Walt and et cetery." + +We'd fired these questions at him as fast as we could get them in +edgewise, and now we knew a heap. The signs had told us true. Those two +recruits had joined with the town gang, and our Scouts had been +captured; but escape had been attempted and Jim Bridger had got away. + +"How did you get that packet?" asked Kit. + +"Found it." + +He spoke short as if he was done talking. It seemed that he had told us +the truth, so far; but if we kept questioning him much more he might get +tired or cross, and lie. We might ask foolish questions, too; and +foolish questions are worse than no questions. + +We had done a good job on this man, as appeared to us. We had bathed his +face, and had exposed the worst burns on his body and arms and legs and +had covered them with carbolized vaseline and gauze held on with +adhesive plaster, and had cleaned the wound in his leg. It was a +regular hole, but we didn't ask him how he got it. 'Twas in mighty bad +shape, for it hadn't been attended to right and was dirty and swollen. +Cold clear water dripped into it to flush it and clean it and reduce the +inflammation would have been fine, but we didn't have that kind of water +handy; so we sifted some boric powder into it and over it and bound on +it a pad of dry sterilized gauze, but not too tight. I asked him if +there was a bullet or anything else in it, and he said no. He had run +against a stick. This was about all that we could do to it, and play +safe by not poking into it too much. (Note 54.) + +He seemed to feel pretty good, now, and sat up. + +"Well," he said, "now I've given you boys your message and told you what +I know, and you've fixed me up, so I'll be movin' on. Where are those +things I used to call shoes?" + +We exchanged glances. He was the beaver man. + +"We aren't through yet," I said. + +"Oh, I reckon you are," he answered. "I'm much obliged. Pass me the +shoes, will you?" + +"No; wait," said Kit Carson. + +"What for?" He was beginning to growl. + +"Till you're all fixed." + +"I'm fixed enough." + +"We'll dress some of those wounds over again." + +"No, you won't. Pass me those shoes." + +They were hidden behind a tree. + +"Can't you wait a little?" + +"No, I can't wait a little." He was growling in earnest. "Will you pass +me those shoes?" + +"No, we won't," announced Kit. He was getting angry, too. + +"You pass me those shoes or something is liable to happen to you mighty +sudden. I'll break you in two." + +"I'll get the rifle," said Jed, and started; but I called him back. We +didn't need a rifle. + +"He can't do anything in bare feet like that," I said. And he couldn't. +His feet were too soft and burned. That is why we kept the shoes, of +course. + +"I can't, eh?" + +"No. We aren't afraid." + +He started to stand, and then he sat back again. + +"I'll put a hole in some of you," he muttered; and felt at the side of +his chest. But if he had carried a gun in a Texas holster there, it was +gone. "Say, you, what's the matter with you?" he queried. "What do you +want to keep me here for?" + +"You'd better wait. We'll stay, too." + +He glared at us. Then he began to wheedle. + +"Say, what'd I ever do to you? Didn't I give you back that message, and +tell you all I knew? Didn't I help you out as much as I could?" + +"Sure," we said. + +"Then what have you got it in for me for?" + +"We'd rather you'd wait till the Ranger or somebody comes along," I +explained. + +He fumbled in a pants pocket. + +"Lookee here," he offered. And he held it out. "Here's a twenty-dollar +gold piece. Take it and divvy it among you; and I'll go along and +nobody'll be the wiser." + +"No, thanks," we said. + +"I'll make it twenty apiece for each," he insisted. "Here they are. See? +Give me those shoes, and take these yellow bucks and go and have a good +time." + +But we shook our heads, and had to laugh. He couldn't bluff us Scouts, +and he couldn't bribe us, either. He twisted and stood up, and we jumped +away, and Kit was ready to grab up the shoes and carry them across into +the burned timber where the ground was still hot. + +The man swore and threatened frightfully. + +"I'd like to get my fingers on one of you, once," he stormed. "You'd +sing a different tune." + +So we would. But we had the advantage now and we didn't propose to lose +it. He couldn't travel far in bare, blistered feet. I wished that he'd +sit down again. We didn't want to torment him or nag him, just because +we had him. He did sit down. + +"What do you think I am, anyhow?" he asked. + +"Well, you've been killing beaver," I told him. + +"Who said so?" + +"We saw you at the beaver-pond, when we were camping opposite. And just +after you left the game warden came along, looking for you." + +"You saw some other man." + +"No, we didn't. We know your tracks. And if you aren't the man, then +you'll be let go." + +"You kids make me tired," he grumbled, and tried to laugh it off. +"Supposin' a man does trap a beaver or two. They're made to be trapped. +They have to be trapped or else they dam up streams and overflow good +land. Nobody misses a few beaver, anyhow, in the timber. This is a free +land, ain't it?" + +"Killing beaver is against the law, just the same," said Jed. + +"You kids didn't make the law, did you? You aren't judge of the law, are +you?" + +"No," I said. "But we know what it is and we don't think it ought to be +broken. If people go ahead breaking the game laws, then there won't be +any game left for the people who keep the laws to see or hunt. And the +less game there is, the more laws there'll be." I knew that by heart. It +was what Scouts are taught. + +This sounded like preaching. But it was true. And while he was fuming +and growling and figuring on what to do, we were mighty glad to hear a +horse's hoofs. The Ranger came galloping down the fire line. + +"Hello," he said. He was streaked with ashes and soot and sweat, and so +was his horse, and they both looked worn to a frazzle. "Well, we've +licked the fire. Who's that? Somebody hurt?" Then he gave another quick +look. "Why, how are you, Jack? You must have run against something +unexpected." + +The beaver man only growled, as if mad and disgusted. + +I saluted. + +"We have held the fire line, sir," I reported. + +"You bet!" answered the Ranger. "You did well. And now you're holding +Jack, are you? You needn't explain. I know all about him. Since that +fire drove him out along with other animals, we'll hang on to him. The +game warden spoke to me about him a long time ago." + +"You fellows think you're mighty smart. Do I get my shoes, or not?" +growled the beaver man. + +"Not," answered the Ranger, cheerfully. "We'll wrap your feet up with a +few handkerchiefs and let you ride this horse." He got down. "What's the +matter? Burns? Bad leg? Say! These kids are some class on first-aid, +aren't they! You're lucky. Did you thank them? Now you can ride nicely +and the game warden will sure be glad to see you." Then he spoke to us. +"I'm going over to my cabin, boys, where there's a telephone. Better +come along and spend the night." + +We hustled for our blanket-rolls. The beaver man gruntingly climbed +aboard the Ranger's horse, and we all set out. The Ranger led the horse, +and carried his rifle. + +"Is the fire out?" asked Kit Carson. + +"Not out, but it's under control. It'll burn itself out, where it's +confined. I've left a squad to guard it and I'll telephone in to +headquarters and report. But if it had got across this fire line and +around those willows, we'd have been fighting it for a week." + +"How did it start?" + +"Somebody's camp-fire." + +The trail we were making led through the timber and on, across a little +creek and up the opposite slope. The sun was just setting as we came out +beyond the timber, and made diagonally up a bare ridge. On top it looked +like one end of that plateau we had crossed when we were trailing the +gang and we had first seen the fire. + +The Ranger had come up here because traveling was better and he could +take a good look around. We halted, puffing, while he looked. Off to the +west was the snowy range, and old Pilot Peak again, with the sun setting +right beside him, in a crack. The range didn't seem far, but it seemed +cold and bleak--and over it we were bound. Only, although now we had the +message, we didn't have the other Scouts. If they were burned--oh, +jiminy! + +"Great Caesar! More smoke!" groaned the Ranger. "If that's another fire +started--!" + +His words made us jump and gaze about. Yes, there was smoke, plenty of +it, over where the forest fire we had fought was still alive. But he was +looking in another direction, down along the top of the plateau. + +"See it?" he asked. + +Yes, we saw it. But--! And then our hearts gave a great leap. + +"That's not a forest fire!" we cried. "That's a smoke signal!" + +"A what?" + +"A smoke signal! And--" + +"Wait a second. We'll read it, if we can. Scouts must be over there," I +exclaimed. + +"More Scouts!" grunted the beaver man. "These here hills are plumb full +of 'em." + +The air was quiet, and the smoke rose straight up, with the sun tinting +the top. It was a pretty sight, to us. Then we saw two puffs and a +pause, and two puffs and a pause, and two puffs and a pause. It was our +private Elk Patrol code, and it was beautiful. We cheered. + +"It's from our partners, and it says 'Come to council,'" I reported. +"They're hunting for us. We'll have to go over there." + +"Think they're in trouble?" + +"They don't say so, but we ought to signal back and go right over." + +"I'll go, too, for luck, and see you through, then," said the Ranger. + +"Do I have to make that extra ride?" complained the beaver man, angry +again. + +"Sure," answered the Ranger. "That's only a mile or so and then it's +only a few more miles to the cabin, and we aren't afraid of the dark." + +They watched us curiously while we hustled and scraped a pile of dead +sage and grass and rubbish, and set it to smoking and made the Elks' "O. +K." signal. The other Scouts must have been sweeping the horizon and +hoping, for back came the "O. K." signal from them. + +And traveling our fastest, with the beaver man grumbling, we all headed +across the plateau for the place of the smoke. Sunday was turning out +good, after all. + +[Illustration: "IT WAS OUR PRIVATE ELK PATROL CODE."] + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +GENERAL ASHLEY DROPS OUT + +(JIM BRIDGER RESUMES THE TALE) + + +I tell you, we were glad to have that smoke of ours answered, and to see +Major Henry and Kit Carson and Jed Smith coming, in the twilight, with +the Ranger and the beaver man. We guessed that the three boys must be +our three partners--and when they waved with the Elk Patrol sign we +knew; but of course we didn't know who the two strangers were. + +While they were approaching, Major Henry wigwagged: "All there?" with +his cap; and Fitzpatrick wigwagged back: "Sure!" They arrived opposite +us, and then headed by the man with the rifle, who was leading the +horse, they obliqued up along the gulch as if they knew of a crossing; +so we decided that one of the strangers must be acquainted with the +country. They made a fine sight, against the horizon. + +Pretty soon into the gulch they plunged, and after a few minutes out +they scrambled, man and horse first, on our side, and came back toward +us. And in a minute more we Elk Scouts were dancing and hugging each +other, and calling each other by our regular ordinary names, "Fat" and +"Sliver" and "Red" and all, and discipline didn't cut much figure. That +was a joyful reunion. The Ranger and his prisoner, the beaver man, +looked on. + +Then when Major Henry hauled out the message packet, and saluting and +grinning passed it to the general, our cup was full. I was as glad as if +I had passed it, myself. "One for all, and all for one," is the way we +Scouts work. + +"If you hadn't trailed him (the beaver man) and headed him and fixed him +so he couldn't travel fast, he'd have got away from the fire and +wouldn't have run into _us_," claimed Major Henry. + +"And if you fellows hadn't held that fire line you wouldn't have seen +him and we might have been burnt or suffocated in the willows," I +claimed back. + +So what seems a failure or a bother, when you're trying your best, often +is the most important thing of all, or helps make the chain complete. + +But now we didn't take much time to explain to each other or to swap +yarns; for the twilight was gone and the dark was closing in, and we +weren't in the best of shape. The burro Apache was packed with bedding, +mostly, which was a good thing, of course; the Red Fox Scouts had their +outfit; but we Elks were short on grub. That piece of bacon and just +the little other stuff carried by the Major Henry party were our +provisions. Fitz and the poor general were making a hungry camp, when we +had discovered them. And then there was the general, laid up. + +"What's the matter with you, kid?" queried the Ranger. + +"Sprained ankle, I think." + +"That's sure bad," sympathized the Ranger. + +And it sure was. + +"Boys, I'll have to be traveling for that cabin of mine, to report about +the fire and this man," said the Ranger, after listening to our talk for +a minute. "If you're grub-shy, some of you had better come along and +I'll send back enough to help you out." + +That was mighty nice of him. And the general spoke up, weakly. "How far +is the cabin, please?" + +"About three miles, straight across." + +"If I could make it, could I stay there a little while?" + +"Stay a year, if you want to. We'll pack you over, if you'll go. Can you +ride?" + +"All right," said the general. "I'll do it. Now, you fellows, listen. +Major Henry, I turn the command and the message over to you. I'm no +good; I can't travel and we've spent a lot of time already, and I'd be +only a drag. So I'll drop out and go over to that cabin, and you other +Scouts take the message." + +Oh, we didn't want to do that! Leave the general? Never! + +"No, sir, we'll take you along if we have to carry you on our backs," we +said; and we started in, all to talk at once. But he made us quit. + +"Say, do I have to sit here all night while you chew the rag?" grumbled +the beaver man. But we didn't pay attention to _him_. + +"It doesn't matter about me, whether I go or not, as long as we get that +message through," answered the general, to us. "I can't travel, and I'd +only hold you back and delay things. I'll quit, and the rest of you +hustle and make up for lost time." + +"I'll stay with you. This is Scout custom: two by two," spoke up little +Jed Smith. He was the general's mate. + +"Nobody stays with me. You all go right on under Corporal Henry." + +"It'll be plumb dark before we get to that cabin," grumbled the beaver +man. "This ain't any way to treat a fellow who's been stuck and then +burnt. I'm tired o' sittin' on this hoss with my toes out." + +"Well, you can get off and let this other man ride. I'll hobble you and +he can lead you," said the Ranger. + +"What's the matter with the burro?" growled the beaver man. He wasn't +so anxious to walk, after all. + +Sure! We knew that the Ranger was waiting, so while some of us led up +Apache, others bandaged the general's ankle tighter, to make it ride +easier and not hurt so much if it dangled. Then we lifted the general, +Scout fashion, on our hands, and set him on Apache. + +Now something else happened. Red Fox Scout Ward stepped forward and took +the lead rope. + +"I'm going," he announced quietly. "I'm feeling fine and you other +fellows are tired. Somebody must bring the burro back, and the general +may need a hand." + +"No, I won't," corrected the general. + +"But the burro must come back." + +"It's up to us Elk Scouts to do that," protested Major Henry. "Some of +us will go. You stay. It's dark." + +"No, sir. You Elk men have been traveling on short rations and Van Sant +and I have been fed up. It's either Van or I, and I'll go." And he did. +He was bound to. But it was a long extra tramp. + +We shook hands with the general, and gave him the Scouts' cheer; and a +cheer for the Ranger. + +"Ain't we ever goin' to move on?" grumbled the beaver man. + +"I may stay all night and be back early in the morning," called Ward. + +"Of course." + +They trailed away, in the dimness--the Ranger ahead leading the beaver +man, Red Fox Scout Ward leading Apache. And we were sorry to see them +go. We should miss the plucky Ashley, our captain. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A BURRO IN BED + + +When I woke in the morning Fitz was already up, building the fire, +according to routine, and Red Fox Scout Van Sant was helping him. So I +rolled out at once, and here came Red Fox Scout Ward with the burro, +across the mesa, for the camp. + +He brought a little flour and a few potatoes and a big hunk of meat, and +a fry-pan. He brought a map of the country, too, that he had sketched +from information from the Ranger. That crack beside Pilot Peak, where +the sun had set, was a pass through, which we could take for Green +Valley. It was a pass used by the Indians and buffalo, once, and an old +Indian trail crossed it still. The general sent word that if we took +that trail, he would get the goods we had left cached. + +"Now," reported Major Henry, when we had filled for a long day's march, +"I'll put it to vote. We can either find that cache ourselves, and take +the trail from there, as first planned, or we can head straight across +the mountain. It's a short cut for the other side of the range, but it +may be rough traveling. The other way, beyond the cache, looked pretty +rough, too. But we'd have our traps and supplies,--as much as we could +pack on Apache, anyhow." + +"I vote we go straight ahead, over the mountain, this way," said Fitz. +"We'll get through. We've got to. We've been out seven days, and we +aren't over, yet." + +We counted. That was so. Whew! We must hurry. Kit and Jed and I voted +with Fitz. + +"All right. Break camp," ordered Major Henry. + +He didn't have to speak twice. + +"That Ranger says we can strike the railroad, over on the other side, +Van, and make our connections there," said Red Fox Scout Ward to his +partner. "Let's go with the Elks and see them through that far." + +That was great. They had come off their trail a long way already, +helping me, it seemed to us--but if they wanted to keep us company +further, hurrah! Only, we wouldn't sponge off of them, just because they +had the better outfit, now. + +We policed the camp, and put out the fire, through force of habit, and +with the burro packed with the squaw hitch (Note 55), and the Red +Foxes packed, forth we started, as the sun was rising, to follow the Ute +trail, over Pilot Peak. The Red Fox Scouts carried their own stuff; they +wouldn't let us put any of it on Apache, for they were independent, too. + +Travel wasn't hard. After we crossed the gorge the top of the mesa or +plateau was flat and gravelly, with some sage and grass, and we made +good time. We missed the general, and we were sorry to leave that cache, +but we had cut loose and were taking the message on once more. Thus we +began our second week out. + +The forest fire was about done. Just a little smoke drifted up, in the +distance behind and below. But from our march we could see where the +fire had passed through the timber, yonder across; and that blackened +swath was a melancholy sight. We didn't stop for nooning, and when we +made an early camp the crack had opened out, and was a pass, sure +enough. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant and I were detailed to take the two rifles and +hunt for rabbits. We got three--two cottontails and a jack--among the +willows where a stream flowed down from the pass. The stream was +swarming here with little trout, and Jed Smith and Kit Carson caught +twenty-four in an hour. So we lived high again. + +Those Red Fox Scouts had a fine outfit. They had a water-proof silk +tent, with jointed poles. It folded to pocket size, and didn't weigh +anything at all; but when set up it was large enough for them both to +sleep in. Then they had a double sleeping bag, and blankets that were +light and warm both, and a lot of condensed foods and that little +alcohol stove, and a complete kit of aluminum cooking and eating ware +that closed together--and everything went into those two packs. + +They used the packs instead of burros or pack-horses. I believe that +animals are better in the mountains where a fellow climbs at ten and +twelve thousand feet, and where the nights are cold so he needs more +bedding than lower down. Man-packs are all right in the flat timber and +in the hills out East, I suppose. But all styles have their good points, +maybe; and a Scout must adapt himself to the country. We all can't be +the same. + +Because the Red Fox Scouts were Easterners, clear from New Jersey, and +we were Westerners, of Colorado, we sort of eyed them sideways, at +first. They had such a swell outfit, you know, and their uniform was +smack to the minute, while ours was rough and ready. They set up their +tent, and we let them--but our way was to sleep out, under tarps (when +we had tarps), in the open. We didn't know but what, on the march, they +might want to keep their own mess--they had so many things that we +didn't. But right away a good thing happened again. + +"How did Fitzpatrick lose his arm?" asked Scout Van Sant of me, when we +were out hunting and Fitz couldn't hear. + +"In the April Day mine," I said. + +"Where?" + +"Back home." + +He studied. "I _thought_ the name of that town sounded awfully familiar +to me," he said. + +When we came into camp with our rabbits, he went straight up to Fitz. + +"I hear you hurt your arm in the April Day mine," he said. + +"Yes. I was working there," answered Fitz. "Why?" + +Van Sant stuck out his hand. "Shake," he said. "My father owns that +mine--or most of it. Ever hear of him?" + +"No," said Fitz, flushing. "I'm just a mucker and a sorter. My father's +a miner." + +"Well, shake," laughed Van Sant. "I never even mucked or sorted, and you +know more than I do about it. My father just owns--and if it wasn't for +the workers like you and your father, the mine wouldn't be worth owning. +See? I'm mighty sorry you got hurt there, though." + +Fitz shook hands. "It was partly my own fault," he said. "I took a +chance. That was before your father bought the mine, anyway." + +Then he went to cooking and we cleaned our game. But from that time on +we knew the Red Fox Scouts to be all right, and their being from the +East made no difference in them. So we and they used each other's +things, and we all mixed in together and were one party. + +We had a good camp and a big rest, this night: the first time of real +peace since a long while back, it seemed to me. The next morning we +pushed on, following up along the creek, and a faint trail, for the +pass. + +This day's march was a hard climb, every hour, and it took our wind, +afoot. But by evening old Pilot Peak wasn't far at all. His snow patches +were getting larger. When we camped in a little park we must have been +up about eleven thousand feet, and the breeze from the Divide ahead of +us blew cool. + +The march now led through aspens and pines and wild flowers, with the +stream singing, and forming little waterfalls and pools and rapids, and +full of those native trout about as large as your two fingers. There was +the old Indian trail, to guide us. It didn't have a track except +deer-tracks, and we might have been the only white persons ever here. +That was fine. Another sign was the amount of game. Of course, some of +the game may have been driven here by the forest fire. But we saw lots +of grouse, which sat as we passed by, and rabbits and porcupines, and +out of the aspens we jumped deer. + +We arrived where the pretty little stream, full of songs and pictures +and trout, came tumbling out of a canyon with bottom space for just it +alone. The old Indian trail obliqued off, up a slope, through the timber +on the right, and so did we. + +It was very quiet, here. The lumber folks had not got in with their saws +and axes, and the trees were great spruces, so high and stately that we +felt like ants. Among the shaded, nice-smelling aisles the old trail +wound. Sometimes it was so covered with the fallen needles that we could +not see it; and it had been blazed, years ago, by trappers or somebody, +and where it crossed glades we came upon it again. It was an easy trail. + +We reached the top of a little ridge, and before us we saw the pass. +'Twas a wide, open pass, with snow-banks showing on it, and the sun +swinging down to set behind it. + +The trail forked, one branch making for the pass, the other making for +the right, where Pilot Peak loomed close at hand. There was some reason +why the trail forked, and as we surveyed we caught the glint of a lake, +over there. + +Major Henry examined the sketch map. "That must be Medicine Lake," he +said. "I think we'd better go over there and camp, instead of trying the +pass. We're sure of wood and water, and it won't be so windy." + +The trail took us safely to the brow of a little basin, and looking down +we saw the lake. It was lying at the base of Pilot Peak. Above it on one +side rose a steep slope of a gray slide-rock, like a railway cut, only +of course no railroad was around here; and all about, on the other +sides, were pointed pines. + +I tell you, that was beautiful. And when we got to the lake we found it +to be black as ink--only upon looking into it you could see down, as if +you were looking through smoky crystal. The water was icy cold, and full +of specks dancing where the sun struck, and must have been terrifically +deep. + +We camped beside an old log cabin, all in ruins. It was partly roofed +over with sod, but we spread our beds outside; these old cabins are +great places for pack-rats and skunks and other animals like those. Fish +were jumping in the lake, and the two Red Fox Scouts and I were detailed +to catch some. The Red Fox Scouts tried flies, but the water was as +smooth as glass, and you can't fool these mountain lake-trout, very +often, that way. Then we put on spinners and trolled from the shores by +casting. We could see the fish, gliding sluggishly about,--great big +fellows; but they never noticed our hooks, and we didn't have a single +strike. So we must quit, disgusted. + +The night was grand. The moon was full, and came floating up over the +dark timber which we had left, to shine on us and on the black lake and +on the mountain. Resting there in our blankets, we Elk Scouts could see +all about us. The lake lay silent and glassy, except when now and then a +big old trout plashed. The slide-rock bank gleamed white, and above it +stretched the long rocky slope of Pilot, with the moon casting lights +and shadows clear to its top. + +This was a mighty lonely spot, up here, by the queer lake, with timber +on one side and the mountain on the other; the air was frosty, because +ice would form any night, so high; not a sound could be heard, save the +plash of trout, or the sighs of Apache as he fidgeted and dozed and +grazed; but the Red Fox Scouts were snug under their tent, and under our +bedding we Elks were cuddled warm, in two pairs and with Major Henry +sleeping single. + +We did not need to hobble or picket Apache. (Note 56.) He had come so +far that he followed like a dog and stayed around us like a dog. When +you get a burro out into the timber or desert wilds and have cut him +loose from his regular stamping ground, then he won't be separated from +you. He's afraid. Burros are awfully funny animals. They like company. +So when we camped we just turned Apache out, and he hung about pretty +close, expecting scraps of bread and stuff and enjoying our +conversation. + +To-night he kept snorting and fussing, and edging in on us, and before +we went to sleep we had to throw sticks at him and shoo him off. It +seemed too lonesome for him, up here. Then we dropped to sleep, under +the moon--and then, the first thing Fitz and I knew, Apache was trying +to crawl into bed with us! + +That waked us. Nobody can sleep with a burro under the same blanket. +Apache was right astraddle of us and was shaking like an aspen leaf; his +long ears were pricked, he was glaring about, and how he snorted! I sat +up; so did Fitz. We were afraid that Apache might step on our faces. + +"Get out, Apache!" we begged. But he wouldn't "get." He didn't budge, +and we had to push him aside, with our hands against his stomach. + +Now the whole camp was astir, grumbling and turning. Apache ran and +tried to bunk with Kit and Jed. "Get out!" scolded Kit; and repulsed +here, poor Apache stuck his nose in between the flaps of the silk tent +and began to shove inside. + +Something crackled amidst the brush along the lake, and there sounded a +snort from that direction, also. It was a peculiar snort. It was a +grunty, blowy snort. And beside me Fitz stiffened and lifted his head +further. + +"Bear!" he whispered. + +"Whoof!" it answered. + +"Bear! Look out! There's a bear around!" said the camp, from bed to bed. + +Down came the silk tent on top of Apache, and out from under wriggled +the Red Fox Scouts, as fast as they could move. Their hair was rumpled +up, they were pale in the moonlight, and Van Sant had his twenty-two +rifle ready. That must have startled them, to be waked by a big thing +like Apache forcing a way into their tent. + +"Who said bear? Where is it?" demanded Van Sant. + +"Don't shoot!" ordered Major Henry, sharply, sitting up. "Don't anybody +shoot. That will make things worse. Tumble out, everybody, and raise a +noise. Give a yell. We can scare him." + +"I see it!" cried Ward. "Look! In that clear spot yonder--up along the +lake, about thirty yards." + +Right! A blackish thing as big as a cow was standing out in the +moonlight, facing us, its head high. We could almost see its nostrils as +it sniffed. + +Up we sprang, and whooped and shouted and waved and threw sticks and +stones into the brush. With another tremendous "Whoof!" the bear +wheeled, and went crashing through the brush as if it had a tin can tied +to its tail. We all cheered and laughed. + +"Jiminy! I ought to have tried a flashlight of it," exclaimed Fitz, +excited. "If we see another bear I'm sure going to get its picture. I +need some bear pictures. Don't let's be in such a hurry, next time." + +"That depends on the bear," said little Jed Smith. "Sometimes you can't +help being in a hurry, with a bear." + +"Guess we'd better dig the burro out of our tent," remarked Scout Ward. +"He smelled that bear, didn't he?" + +He certainly did. If there's one thing a burro is afraid of, it's a +bear. No wonder poor Apache tried to crawl in with us. We hauled him +loose of the tent, and helped the Red Fox Scouts set the tent up again. +Apache snorted and stared about; and finally he quieted a little and +went to browsing, close by, and we Scouts turned in to sleep again. + +When I woke the next time it was morning and the bear had not come back, +for Apache was standing fast asleep in the first rays of the sun, at the +edge of the camp. + +We could catch no fish for breakfast. They paid no attention to any +bait. So we had the last of the meat, and some condensed sausage that +the Red Fox Scouts contributed to the pot. During breakfast we held a +council; old Pilot Peak stuck up so near and inviting. + +"I've been thinking, boys, that maybe we ought to climb Pilot, for a +record, now we've got a good chance," proposed Major Henry. "What do you +say. Shall we vote on it?" + +"How high is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward. + +Major Henry looked at the map of the state. "Fourteen thousand, two +hundred and ten feet." + +"Whew!" Scout Ward eyed it. "We'd certainly like to make it. That would +be a chance for an honor, eh, Van?" + +"You bet," agreed Van Sant. + +"He's sure some mountain," we said. + +"We haven't any time to spare from the trail," went on Major Henry, "and +it would kill a day, to the top and back. So we ought to double up by +traveling by night, some. But that wouldn't hurt any; it would be fun, +by moonlight. Now, if you're ready, all who vote to take the Red Fox +Scouts and climb old Pilot Peak for a record hold up their right hands." + +"We won't vote. Don't make the climb on our account," cried the Red Fox +Scouts. + +"Let's do it. I've never been fourteen thousand feet, myself," declared +Fitz. + +And we all held up our right hands. + +"Bueno," quoth Major Henry. "Then we go. We'll climb Pilot and put in +extra time on the trail. Cache the stuff, police the camp, put out the +fire, take what grub we can in our pockets, and the sooner we start the +better." + +Maybe we ought not to have done this. Our business was the message. We +weren't out for fun or for honors. We were out to carry that message +through in the shortest time possible. The climb was not necessary--and +I for one had a sneaking hunch that we were making a mistake. But I had +voted yes, and so had we all. If anybody had felt dubious, he ought to +have voted no. + +In the next chapter you will read what we got, by fooling with a side +issue. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +VAN SANT'S LAST CARTRIDGE + + +The way to climb a mountain is not to tackle it by the short, steep way, +but to go up by zigzags, through little gulches and passes. You arrive +about as quick and you arrive easier. + +Now from camp we eyed Old Pilot, calculating. Major Henry pointed. + +"We'll follow up that draw, first," he said. "Then we can cross over to +that ledge, and wind around and hit the long stretch, where the snow +patches are. After that, I believe, we can go right on up." + +We had just rounded the lower end of the lake, and were obliquing off +and up for the draw, when we heard a funny bawly screech behind us, and +a clattering, and along at a gallop came Apache, much excited, and at a +trot joined our rear. He did not propose to be left alone! We were glad +enough to have him, if he wanted to make the climb, too. He followed us +all the way, eating things, and gained a Scout mountain honor. + +We were traveling light, of course. Fitz had his camera slung over his +shoulder, Red Fox Scout Van Sant had his twenty-two rifle, because we +thought we might run into some grouse, and the law on grouse was out at +last and we needed meat. Nobody bothered with staffs. They're no good +when you must use hands and knees all at once, as you do on some of the +Rocky Mountains. They're a bother. + +We struck into the draw. It was shallow and bushy, with sarvice-berries +and squaw-berries and gooseberries; but we didn't stop to eat. We let +Apache do the eating. Our thought was to reach the very tip-top of +Pilot. + +The sun shone hot, making us sweat as we followed up through the draw, +in single file, Major Henry leading, Fitz next, then the Red Fox Scouts, +and we three others strung out behind, with Apache closing the rear. The +draw brought us out, as we had planned, opposite the ledge, and we swung +off to this. + +Now we were up quite high. We halted to take breath and puff. The ledge +was broad and flat and grassy, with rimrock behind it; and from it we +could look down upon the lake, far below, and the place of our camp, and +the big timber through which we had trailed, and away in the distance +was the mesa or plateau that we had crossed after the forest fire. We +were above timber-line, and all around us were only sunshine and +bareness, and warmth and nice clean smells. + +"Whew!" sighed Red Fox Scout Ward. "It's fine, fellows." + +That was enough. We knew how he felt. We felt the same. + +But of course we weren't at the top, not by any means. Major Henry +started again, on the upward trail. We followed along the ledge around +the rimrock until we came to a little pass through. That brought us into +a regular maze of big rocks, lying as if a chunk as big as a city block +had dropped and smashed, scattering pieces all about. This spot didn't +show from below. That is the way with mountains. They look smooth, but +when you get up close they break out into hills and holes and rocks and +all kinds of unexpected places, worse than measles. + +But among these jagged chunks we threaded, back and forth, always trying +to push ahead, until suddenly Red Fox Scout Ward called, "I'm out!" and +we went to him. So he was. + +That long, bare slope lay beyond, blotched with snow. The snow had not +seemed much, from below; but now it was in large patches, with drifts so +hard that we could walk on them. One drift was forty feet thick; it was +lodged against a brow, and down its face was trickling black water, +streaking it. This snow-bank away up here was the beginning of a river, +and helped make the lake. + +We had spread out, with Apache still behind. Suddenly little Jed +called. "See the chickens?" he said. + +We went over. Chirps were to be heard, and there among the drifts, on +the gravelly slope, were running and pecking and squatting a lot of +birds about like gray speckled Brahmas. They were as tame as speckled +Brahmas, too. They had red eyes and whitish tails. + +"Ptarmigan!" exclaimed Fitz, and he began to take pictures. He got some +first-class ones. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant never made a move to shoot any of them. They were +so tame and barn-yardy. We were glad enough to let them live, away up +here among the snowdrifts, where they seemed to like to be. It was their +country, not ours--and they were plucky, to choose it. So we passed on. + +The slope brought us up to a wide moraine, I guess you'd call it, where +great bowlders were heaped as thick as pebbles--bowlders and blocks as +large as cottages. These had not looked to be much, either, from below. + +On the edge of them we halted, to look down and behind again. Now we +were much higher. The ledge was small and far, and the timber was small +and farther, and the world was beginning to lie flat like a map. On the +level with us were only a few other peaks, in the snowy Medicine Range. +The pass itself was so low that we could scarcely make it out. + +To cross that bowlder moraine was a terrific job. We climbed and +sprawled, and were now up, now down. It was a go-as-you-please. +Everywhere among the bowlders were whistling rock-rabbits, or conies. +They were about the size of small guinea-pigs, and had short tails and +round, flat bat ears plastered close to their heads. They had their +mouths crammed full of dried grass, which they carried into their nests +through crannies--putting away hay for the winter! It was mighty +cheerful to have them so busy and greeting us, away up in these lonely +heights, and Fitz got some more good animal pictures. + +Apache was in great distress. He couldn't navigate those bowlders. We +could hear him "hee-hawing" on the lower edge, and could see him staring +after us and racing frantically back and forth. But we must go on; we +would pick him up on our way down. + +Well, we got over the bowlder field--Fitz as spryly as any of us. Having +only one good arm made no difference to him, and he never would accept +help. He was independent, and we only kept an eye on him and let him +alone. The bowlders petered out; and now ahead was another slope, with +more snow patches, and short dead grass in little bunches; and it ended +in a bare outcrop: the top! + +Our feet weighed twenty-five pounds each, our knees were wobbly, we +could hear each other pant, and my heart thumped so that the beats all +ran together. But with a cheer we toiled hard for the summit, before +resting. We didn't race--not at fourteen thousand feet; we weren't so +foolish--and I don't know who reached it first. Anyway, soon we all were +there. + +We had climbed old Pilot Peak! The top was flat and warm and dry, so we +could sit. The sky was close above; around about was nothing but the +clear air. East, west, north and south, below us, were hills and valleys +and timber and parks and streams, with the cloud-shadows drifting +across. We didn't say one word. The right words didn't exist, somehow, +and what was the use in exclaiming when we all felt alike, and could +look and see for ourselves? You don't seem to amount to much when you +are up, like this, on a mountain, near the sky, with the world spread +out below and not missing you; and a boy's voice, or a man's, is about +the size of a cricket's chirp. The silence is one of the best things you +find. So we sat and looked and thought. + +But on a sudden we did hear a noise--a rattling and "Hee-haw!" And here, +from a different side, came Apache again. He had got past those +bowlders, somehow. With another "Hee-haw!" he trotted right up on top, +in amidst us, where he stood, with a big sigh, looking around, too. + +This was the chance for us to map out the country ahead, on the other +side of the pass. So we took a good long survey. It was a rough country, +as bad as that which we had left; with much timber and many hills and +valleys. Down in some of the valleys were yellow patches, like hay +ranches, and forty or fifty miles away seemed to be a little haze of +smoke, which must be a town: Green Valley, where we were bound! Hurrah! +But we hadn't got there, yet. + +Major Henry made a rough sketch of the country, with Pilot Peak as base +point and a jagged, reddish tip, over toward the smoke, as another +landmark. Our course ought to be due west from Pilot, keeping to the +south of that reddish tip. + +We had a little lunch, and after cleaning up after ourselves we saluted +the old peak with the Scouts' cheer, saying good-by to it; and then we +started down. We discovered that we could go around the bowlder-field, +as Apache had done. When we struck the snow-patch slope we obliqued over +to our trail up, and began to back track. Back-tracking was the safe +way, because we knew that this would bring us out. Down we went, with +long steps, almost flying, and leaving behind us the busy conies and the +tame ptarmigans, to inhabit the peak until we should come again. We +even tried not to tramp on the flowers. (Note 57.) + +Through the maze of rock masses we threaded, and along the grassy ledge, +and entered the bush draw. By the sun it was noon, but we had plenty of +time, and we spread out in the draw, taking things easy and picking +berries. We didn't know but what we might come upon some grouse, in +here, too, for the trickle from that snow-bank drained through and there +was a bunch of aspens toward the bottom. But instead we came upon a +bear! + +I heard Red Fox Scout Ward call, sharp and excited: "Look out, fellows! +Here's another bear!" + +That stopped us short. + +"Where?" + +"Right in front of me! He's eating berries. And I see another, +too--sitting, looking at me." + +"Wait!" called back Fitz, excited. "Let 'em alone. I'll get a picture." + +That was just like Fitzpatrick. He wanted to take pictures of everything +alive. + +"Yes; let 'em alone," warned Major Henry, shouting. + +For that's all a bear in a berry-patch asks; to be let alone. He's +satisfied with the berries. In fact, all a bear asks, anyway, is to be +let alone, and up here on the mountain these bears weren't doing any +harm. + +"Where are you?" called Fitz. + +"On this rock." + +Now we could see Scout Ward, with hand up; and over hustled Fitz, and +over we all hustled, from different directions. + +They were not large bears. They looked like the little brown or black +bears, it was hard to tell which; but the small kind isn't dangerous. +They were across on the edge of a clearing, and were stripping the +bushes. Once in a while they would sit up and eye us, while slobbering +down the berries; then they would go to eating again. + +Fitz had his camera unslung and taken down. He walked right out, toward +them, and snapped, but it wouldn't be a very good picture. They were too +far to show up plainly. + +"I'll sneak around behind and drive them out," volunteered little Jed +Smith; and without waiting for orders he and Kit started, and we all +except Fitz spread out to help in the surround. Fitz made ready to take +them on the run. Nobody is afraid of the little brown or black bear. + +Jed and Kit were just entering the bushes to make the circuit on their +side, when we heard Apache snorting and galloping, and a roar and a +"Whoof!" and out from the brush over there burst the burro, with another +bear chasing him. This was no little bear. It was a great big bear--an +old she cinnamon, and these others weren't the small brown or black +bears, either: they were half-grown cinnamon cubs! + +How she came! Kit Carson and Jed Smith were right in her path. + +"Look out!" we yelled. + +Kit and little Jed leaped to dodge. She struck like a cat as she passed, +and head over heels went poor little Jed, sprawling in the brush, and +she passed on, straight to her cubs. They met her, and she smelled them +for a moment. She lifted her broad, short head, and snarled. + +"Don't do a thing," ordered Major Henry. "She'll leave." + +So we stood stock-still. That was all we _could_ do. We knew that poor +little Jed was lying perhaps badly wounded, off there in the brush, but +it wouldn't help to call the old bear's attention to him again. In the +open place Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand stood; he was right in front of the +old bear, and he was _taking pictures_! + +The old bear saw him, and he and the camera seemed to make her mad. +Maybe she took it for a weapon. She lowered her head, swung it to and +fro, her bristles rose still higher, and across the open space she +started. + +"Fitz!" we shrieked. And I said to myself, sort of crying: "Oh, jiminy!" + +We all set up a tremendous yell, but that didn't turn her. Major Henry +jumped forward, and tugged to pull loose a stone. I looked for a stone +to throw. Of course I couldn't find one. Then out of the corner of my +eye, while I was watching Fitz, too, I glimpsed Red Fox Scout Van Sant +coming running, and shooting with his twenty-two. The bullets spatted +into the bear's hide, and stung her. + +"Run, Fitz!" called Van Sant. "I'll stop her." + +But he didn't, yet. Hardly! That Fitz had just been winding his film. He +took the camera from between his knees, where he had held it while he +used his one hand, and he leveled it like lightning, on the old +bear--and took her picture again. That picture won a prize, after we got +back to civilization. But the old bear kept coming. + +We all were shouting, in vain,--shouting all kinds of things. Red Fox +Scout Van Sant sprang to Fitz's side, and again we heard him say: "Run, +Fitz! Over here. Make for the rock. I'll stop her." + +It was the outcrop where Ward had been. Fitz jumped to make for it. He +hugged his camera as he ran. We thought that Van Sant would make for it, +too. But he let Fitz pass him, and he stood. The old bear was coming, +crazy. She only halted to scratch where a twenty-two pellet had stung +her hide. Van Sant waited, steady as a rock. He lifted his little rifle +slowly and held on her, and just as she was about to reach him he +fired. + +"Crack!" + +Headfirst she plunged. She kicked and ripped the ground, and didn't get +up again. She lay still, amidst a silence, we all watching, breathless. +Beyond, Fitzpatrick had closed his precious camera as he ran, and now at +the rock had turned. + +"Shoot her again, Van!" begged Scout Ward. + +"I can't," he answered. "That was my last cartridge. But she's dead. I +hit her in the eye." And he lowered his rifle. + +Then we gave a great cheer, and rushed for the spot--except Major Henry; +he was the first to think and he rushed to see to little Jed Smith. +Fitzpatrick shook hands hard with Red Fox Scout Van Sant and followed +the major. + +Yes, the old bear was stone dead. Van Sant had shot her through the eye, +into the brain. That was enough. Ward and I shook hands with him, too. +He had shown true Scouts' nerve, to sail in in that way, and to meet the +danger and to be steady under fire. + +"Oh, well, I was the only one who could do anything," he explained. "I +knew it was my last cartridge and I had to make it count. That's all." + +Then we hurried down to where the Major and Fitz and Kit Carson were +gathered about little Jed. Jed wasn't dead. No; we could see him move. +And Fitz called: "He's all right. But his shoulder's out and his leg is +torn." + +Little Jed was pale but game. His right arm hung dangling and useless, +and his right calf was bloody. The whole arm hung dangling because the +shoulder was hurt; but it was not a fractured collarbone, for when we +had laid open Jed's shirt we could feel and see. The shoulder was out of +shape, and commencing to swell, and the arm hung lower than the well +arm. (Note 58.) + +We let the wound of the calf go, for we must get at this dislocation, +before the shoulder was too sore and rigid. We knew what to do. Jed was +stretched on his back, Red Fox Scout Ward sat at his head, steadying him +around the body, and with his stockinged heel under Jed's armpit Major +Henry pulled down on the arm and shoved up against it with his heel at +the same time. That hurt. Jed turned very white, and let out a big +grunt--but we heard a fine snap, and we knew that the head of the +arm-bone had chucked back into the shoulder-socket where it belonged. + +So that was over; and we were glad,--Jed especially. We bound his arm +with a handkerchief sling across to the other shoulder, to keep the +joint in place for a while, and we went at his leg. + +The old bear's paw had cuffed him on the shoulder and then must have +slipped down and landed on his calf as he sprawled. The boot-top had +been ripped open and the claws had cut through into the flesh, tearing a +set of furrows. It was a bad-looking wound and was bleeding like +everything. But the blood was just the ordinary oozy kind, and so we let +it come, to clean the wound well. Then we laid some sterilized gauze +from our first-aid outfit upon it, to help clot the blood, and sifted +borax over, and bound it tight with adhesive plaster, holding the edges +of the furrows together. Over that we bound on loosely a dry pack of +other gauze. + +We left Jed (who was pale but thankful) with Red Fox Scout Ward and went +up to the bear. Kit Carson wanted to see her. She was still dead, and +off on the edge of the brush her two cubs were sniffing in her +direction, wondering and trying to find out. + +Yes, that had been a nervy stand made by Scout Van Sant, and a good +shot. Fitzpatrick reached across and shook his hand again. + +"I don't know whether I stopped to thank you, but it's worth doing +twice. I'm much obliged." + +"Don't mention it," laughed Van Sant. + +Then we all laughed. That was better. There isn't much that can be said, +when you feel a whole lot. But you _know_, just the same. And we all +were Scouts. + +Somehow, the big limp body of the old mother bear now made us sober. We +hadn't intended to kill her, and of course she was only protecting her +cubs. It wasn't our mountain; and it wasn't our berry-patch. She had +discovered it first. We had intruded on her, not she on us. It all was +a misunderstanding. + +So we didn't gloat over her, or kick her, or sit upon her, now that she +could not defend herself. But we must do some quick thinking. + +"Kit Carson, you and Bridger catch Apache," ordered Major Henry. "Fitz +and I will help Scout Van Sant skin his bear." + +"She's not my bear," said Scout Van Sant. "I won't take her. She belongs +to all of us." + +"Well," continued Major Henry, "it's a pity just to let her lie and to +waste her. We can use the meat." + +"The pelt's no good, is it?" asked Fitz. + +"Not much, in the summer. But we'll take it off, and put the meat in it, +to carry." + +They set to work. Kit Carson and I started after the burro. He had run +off, up the mountain again, and we couldn't catch him. He was too +nervous. We'd get close to him, and with a snort and a toss of his ears +he would jump away and fool us. That was very aggravating. + +"If we only had a rope we could rope him," said Kit. But we didn't. +There was no profit in chasing a burro all over a mountain, and so, hot +and tired, we went back and reported. + +The old bear had been skinned and butchered, after a fashion. The head +was left on the hide, for the brains. At first Major Henry talked of +sending down to camp for a blanket and making a litter out of it. We +would have hard work to carry Jed in our arms. But Jed was weak and sick +and didn't want to wait for the blanket. Apache would have been a big +help, only he was so foolish. But we had a scheme. Scouts always manage. +(Note 59.) + +We made a litter of the bear-pelt! Down we scurried to the aspens and +found two dead sticks. We stuck one through holes in the pelt's fore +legs, and one through holes in the pelt's hind legs, and tied the legs +about with cord. We set little Jed in the hair side, facing the bear's +head, turned back over; the Major, the two Red Fox Scouts, and Kit +Carson took each an end of the sticks; Fitzpatrick and I carried the +meat, stuck on sticks, over our shoulders; and in a procession like +cave-men or trappers returning from a hunt we descended the mountain, +leaving death and blood where we had intended to leave only peace as we +had found it. + +Apache made a big circuit to follow us. The two cubs sneaked forward, to +sniff at the bones where their mother had been cut up--and began to eat +her. We were glad to know that they did not feel badly yet, and that +they were old enough to take care of themselves. + +But as we stumbled and tugged, carrying wounded Jed down the draw, we +knew plainly that we ought to have let that mountain alone. + +[Illustration: "LIKE CAVE-MEN OR TRAPPERS RETURNING FROM A HUNT WE +DESCENDED."] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +FITZ THE BAD HAND'S GOOD THROW + + +That green bear-pelt and Jed together were almost too heavy, so that we +went slow and careful and stopped often, to rest us. The sun was setting +when at last we got down to camp again--and we arrived, a very different +party from that which had gone out twelve hours before. It was a sorry +home-coming. But we must not lament or complain over what was our own +fault. We must do our best to turn it to account. We must be Scouts. + +We made Jed comfortable on a blanket bed. His leg we let alone, as the +bandage seemed to be all right. And his shoulder we of course let alone. +Then we took stock. Major Henry decided very quickly. + +"Jed can't travel. He will have to stay here till his wounds heal more, +and Kit Carson will have to stay with him. I'd stay, instead, because +I'm to blame for wasting some men and some time; but the general passed +the command on to me and I ought to go as far as I possibly can. We'll +fix Kit and Jed the best we're able, and to-morrow we'll hustle on and +make night marches, if we need to." + +This was sense. Anyway, although we had wasted men and time, we were now +stocked up with provisions; all that bear meat! While Fitzpatrick and +Red Fox Scout Ward were cooking supper and poor Jed looked on, two of us +went at the meat to cut it into strips for jerking, and two of us +stretched the pelt to grain it before it dried. + +We cut the meat into the strips and piled them until we could string +them to smoke and dry them. We then washed for supper, because we were +pretty bloody with the work of cutting. After supper, by moonlight, we +strung the strips with a sailor's needle and cord which the Red Fox +Scouts had in their kit, and erected a scaffolding of four fork-sticks +with two other sticks laid across at the ends. We stretched the strings +of meat in lines, back and forth. Next thing was to make a smudge under +and to lay a tarp over to hold the smudge while the meat should smoke. +(Note 60.) + +Pine smoke is no good, because it is so strong. Alder makes a fine sweet +smoke, but we didn't have any alder, up here. We used aspen, as the next +best thing at hand. And by the time we had the pelt grained and the meat +strung and had toted enough aspen, we were tired. + +But somebody must stay awake, to tend to Jed and give him a drink and +keep him company, and to watch the smudge, that it didn't flame up too +fierce and that it didn't go out. By smoking and drying the meat all +night and by drying it in the sun afterward, Major Henry thought that it +would be ready so that we could take our share along with us. + +If we had that, then we would not need to stop to hunt, and we could +make short camps, as we pleased. You see, we had only four days in which +to deliver the message; and we had just reached the pass! + +This was a kind of miserable night. Jed of course had a bed to himself, +which used up blankets. The others of us stood watch an hour and a half +each, over him and over the smudge. He was awful restless, because his +leg hurt like sixty, and none of us slept very well, after the +excitement. I was sleepiest when the time came for us to get up. + +We had breakfast, of bear steak and bread or biscuits and gravy. The +meat we were jerking seemed to have been smoked splendidly. The tarp was +smoked, anyhow. We took it off and aired it, and left the strips as they +were, to dry some more in the sun. They were dark, and quite stiff and +hard, and by noon they were brittle as old leather. The hide was dry, +too, and ready for working over with brains and water, and for smoking. +(Note 61.) + +But we left that to Kit. Now we must take the trail again. We spent the +morning fussing, and making the cabin tight for Jed and Kit; at last +the meat had been jerked so that our share would keep, and we had done +all that we could, and we were in shape to carry the message on over the +pass and down to Green Valley. + +"All right," spoke Major Henry, after dinner. "Let's be off. Scout +Carson, we leave Scout Smith in your charge. You and he stay right here +until he's able to travel. Then you can follow over the pass and hit +Green Valley, or you can back-track for the Ranger's cabin and for home. +Apache will come in soon and you'll have him to pack out with. You'll be +entitled to just as much honor by bringing Jed out safe as we will by +carrying the message. Isn't that so, boys?" + +"Sure," we said. + +But naturally Kit hated to stay behind. Only, somebody must; it was +Scouts' duty. We all shook hands with him and with wounded Jed (who +hated staying, too), and said "Adios," and started off. + +Apache had not appeared, and we were to pack our own outfit. We left Jed +and Kit enough meat and all the flour (which wasn't much) and what other +stuff we could spare (they had the bearskin to use for bedding as soon +as it was tanned) and one rope and our twenty-two rifle, and the +Ranger's fry-pan and two cups, and we divided among us what we could +carry. + +"Now we've got three days and a half to get through in," announced Major +Henry. We counted the days on the trail to make sure. Yes, three days +and a half. "And besides, these Red Fox Scouts must catch a train in +time to make connections for that Yellowstone trip. We've put in too +much time, and I think we ought to travel by night as well as by day, +for a while." + +"Short sleeps and long marches; that's my vote," said Fitz. + +"Don't do it on our account," put in the Red Fox Scouts. "But we're +game. We'll travel as fast as you want to." + +So we decided. And now only three Elk Scouts, instead of six, and two +Red Fox Scouts, again we took the long trail. In the Ranger's cabin +behind was our gallant leader General Ashley, and in this other cabin by +the lake were Jed Smith and Kit Carson. Thus our ranks were being +thinned. + +We followed the trail from the lake and struck the old Indian trail +again, leading over the pass. About the middle of the afternoon we were +at the pass itself. It was wide and smooth and open and covered with +gravel and short grass and little low flowers like daisies. On either +side were brownish red jagged peaks and rimrock faces, specked with +snow. The wind blew strong and cold. There were many sheep-tracks, where +bands had been trailed over, for the low country or for the summer +range. It was a wild, desolate region, with nothing moving except +ourselves and a big hawk high above; but we pressed on fast, in close +order, our packs on our backs, Major Henry leading. And we were lonesome +without Kit and Jed. + +Old Pilot Peak gradually sank behind us; the country before began to +spread out into timber and meadow and valley. Pretty soon we caught up +with a little stream. It flowed in the same direction that we were +going, and we knew that we were across the pass and that we were on the +other side of the Medicine Range, at last! Hurrah! + +We were stepping long, down-hill. We came to dwarf cedars, and buck +brush, showing that we were getting lower. And at a sudden halt by the +major, in a nice golden twilight we threw off our packs and halted for +supper beside the stream, among some aspens--the first ones. + +About an hour after sunset the moon rose, opposite--a big round moon, +lighting everything so that travel would be easy. We had stocked up on +the jerked bear-meat, roasted on sharp sticks, and on coffee from the +cubes that the Red Fox Scouts carried, and we were ready. The jerked +bear-meat was fine and made us feel strong. So now Major Henry stood, +and swung his pack; and we all stood. + +"Let's hike," he said. + +That was a beautiful march. The air was crisp and quiet, the moon +mounted higher, flooding the country with silver. Once in a while a +coyote barked. The rabbits all were out, hopping in the shine and +shadow. We saw a snowshoe kind, with its big hairy feet. We saw several +porcupines, and an owl as large as a buzzard. This was a different world +from that of day, and it seemed to us that people miss a lot of things +by sleeping. + +Our course was due west, by the North Star. We were down off the pass, +and had struck a valley, with meadow and scattered pines, and a stream +rippling through, and the moonlight lying white and still. In about +three hours we came upon sign of another camp, where somebody had +stopped and had made a fire and had eaten. There were burro tracks here, +so that it might have been a prospectors' camp; and there was an empty +tin can like a large coffee can. + +"I think we had better rest again," said Major Henry. "We can have a +snack and a short sleep." + +We didn't cook any meat. We weren't going to take out any of the Red Fox +dishes, but Fitz started to fill the tin can with water, to make soup in +that. It was Red Fox Scout Ward who warned us. + +"Here," he objected. "Do you think we ought to do that? You know +sometimes a tin can gives off poison when you cook in it." + +"And we don't know what was in this can," added Van Sant. "We don't want +to get ptomaine poisoning. I'd rather unpack ten packs than run any +risk." + +That was sense. The can _looked_ clean, inside, and the idea of being +made sick by it hadn't occurred to us Elks. But we remembered, now, some +things that we'd read. So we kicked the can to one side, that nobody +else should use it, and Fitz made the soup in a regulation dish from the +Red Fox aluminum kit. (Note 62.) + +We drank the soup and each chewed a slice of the bear-meat cold. It was +sweet and good, and the soup helped out. Then we rolled in our blankets +and went to sleep. We all had it on our minds to wake in four hours, and +the mind is a regular clock if you train it. + +I woke just about right, according to the stars. The two stars in the +bottom of the Little Dipper, that we used for an hour hand, had been +exactly above a pointed spruce, when I had dozed off, and now when I +looked they had moved about three feet around the Pole Star. While I lay +blinking and warm and comfortable, and not thinking of anything in +particular, I heard a crackle of sticks and the scratch of a match. And +there squatting on the edge of a shadow was somebody already up and +making a fire. + +"Is that you, Fitz?" asked Major Henry. + +"Yes. You fellows lie still a few seconds longer and I'll have some tea +for you." + +Good old Fitz! He need not have done that. He had not been ordered to. +But it was a thoughtful Scout act--and was a Fitz act, to boot. + +Scouts Ward and Van Sant were awake now; and we all lay watching Fitz, +and waiting, as he had asked us to. Then when we saw him put in the +tea-- + +"Levez!" spoke Major Henry; which is the old trapper custom. "Levez! Get +up!" (Note 63.) + +Up we sprang, into the cold, and with our blankets about our shoulders, +Indian fashion, we each drank a good swig of hot tea. Then we washed our +faces, and packed our blankets, and took the trail. + +It was about three in the morning. The moon was halfway down the west, +and the air was chill and had that peculiar feel of just before morning. +Everything was ghostly, as we slipped along, but a few birds were +twittering sleepily. Once a coyote crossed our path--stopped to look +back at us, and trotted away again. + +Gradually the east began to pale; there were fewer stars along that +horizon than along the horizon where the moon was setting. The burro +tracks were plain before us, in the trail that led down the valley. The +trail inclined off to the left, or to the south of west; but we +concluded to follow it because we could make better time and we believed +that the railroad lay in that direction. The Red Fox Scouts ought to be +taken as near to the railroad as possible, before we left them. They had +been mighty good to us. + +The moon sank, soon the sun would be up; the birds were moving as well +as chirping, the east was brightening, and already the tip of Pilot +Peak, far away behind us with Kit and Jed sleeping at his base, was +touched with pink, when we came upon a camp. + +Red Fox Scout Van Sant, who was leading, suddenly stopped short and +lifted his hand in warning. Before, in a bend of the stream that we were +skirting, among the pines and spruces beside it was a lean-to, with a +blackened fire, and two figures rolled in blankets; and back from the +stream a little way, across in an open grassy spot, was a burro. It had +been grazing, but now it was eying us with head and ears up. Red Fox +Scout Van had sighted the burro first and next, of course, the lean-to +camp. + +We stood stock-still, surveying. + +"Cache!" whispered Major Henry (which means "Hide"); and we stepped +softly aside into the brush. For that burro looked very much like Sally, +who had been taken from us by the two recruits when they had stolen +Apache also--and by the way that the figures were lying, under a +lean-to, they might be the renegade recruits themselves. It was a +hostile camp! + +"What is it?" whispered Red Fox Scout Ward, his eyes sparkling. "Enemy?" + +"I think so," murmured Major Henry. + +"We can pass." + +"Sure. But if that's our burro we ought to take her." And the major +explained. + +The Red Foxes nodded. + +"But if she isn't, then we don't want her. One of us ought to +reconnoiter." And the major hesitated. "Fitz, you go," he said. And this +rather surprised me, because naturally the major ought to have gone +himself, he being the leader. "I've got a side-ache, somehow," he added, +apologizing. "It isn't much--but it might interfere with my crawling." + +Fitz was only too ready to do the stalking. He left his pack, and with a +detour began sneaking upon the lean-to. We watched, breathless. But the +figures never stirred. Fitz came out, opposite, and from bush to bush +and tree to tree he crept nearer and nearer, with little darts from +cover to cover; and at last very cautiously, on his hands and knees; and +finally wriggling on his belly like a snake. + +'Twas fine stalking, and we were glad that the Red Fox Scouts were here +to see. But it seemed to us that Fitz was getting too near. However, the +figures did not move, and did not know--and now Fitz was almost upon +them. From behind a tree only a yard away from them he stretched his +neck and peered, for half a minute. Then he crawled backward, and +disappeared. Presently he was with us again. + +"It's they, sir," he reported. "Bat and Walt. They're asleep. And that +is Sally, I'm certain. I know her by the white spot on her back." + +"We must have her," said the major. "She's ours. We'll get her and pack +her, so we can travel better." + +"Can we catch her, all right?" queried Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "We're +liable to wake those two fellows up, aren't we?" + +"What if we do?" put in his partner, Scout Ward. "Three of us can guard +them, and the other two can chase the burro." + +"No," said Major Henry. "I think we can rope her and be off before those +renegades know anything about it. Can you, Fitz?" + +Fitz nodded, eager. + +"Then take the rope, and go after her." + +Fitz did. He was a boss roper, too. You wouldn't believe it, of a +one-armed boy, but it was so. All we Elk Scouts could throw a rope some. +A rope comes in pretty handy, at times. Most range horses have to be +caught in the corral with a rope, and knowing how to throw a rope will +pull a man out of a stream or out of a hole and will perhaps save his +life. But Fitz was our prize roper, because he had practiced harder than +any of us, to make up for having only one arm. + +The way he did was to carry the coil on his stump, and the lash end in +his teeth; and when he had cast, quick as lightning he took the end +from between his teeth ready to haul on it. + +Major Henry might have gone, himself, to get the credit and to show what +he could do; but he showed his sense by resigning in favor of Fitz. + +So now at the command Fitz took the rope from him and shook it out and +re-coiled it nicely. Then, carrying it, he sneaked through the trees, +and crossed the creek, farther up, wading to his ankles, and advanced +upon Sally. + +Sally divided her attention between him and us, and finally pricked her +ears at him alone. She knew what was being tried. + +Coming out into the open space Fitz advanced slower and slower, step by +step. He had his rope ready--the coil was on his stump, and the lash end +was in his teeth, and the noose trailed by his side, from his good hand. +We glanced from him and Sally to the lean-to, and back again, for the +campers were sleeping peacefully. If only they would not wake and spoil +matters. + +Sally held her head high, suspicious and interested. Fitz did not dare +to speak to her; he must trust that she would give him a chance at her +before she escaped into the trees where roping would be a great deal +harder. + +We watched. My heart beat so that it hurt. Having that burro meant a lot +to us, for those packs were heavy--and it was a point of honor, too, +that we recapture our own. Here was our chance. + +Fitz continued to trail his noose. He didn't swing it. Sally watched +him, and we watched them both. He was almost close enough, was Fitz, to +throw. A few steps more, and something would happen. But Sally concluded +not to wait. She tossed her head, and with a snort turned to trot away. +And suddenly Fitz, in a little run and a jerk, threw with all his might. + +Straight and swift the noose sailed out, opening into an "O," and +dragging the rope like a tail behind it. Fitz had grabbed the lash end +from between his teeth, and was running forward, to make the cast cover +more ground. It was a beautiful noose and well aimed. Before it landed +we saw that it was going to land right. Just as it fell Sally trotted +square into it, and it dropped over her head. She stopped short and +cringed, but she was too late. Fitz had sprung back and had hauled hard. +It drew tight about her neck, and she was caught. She knew it, and she +stood still, with an inquiring gaze around. She knew better than to run +on the rope and risk being thrown or choked. Hurrah! We would have +cheered--but we didn't dare. We only shook hands all round and grinned; +and in a minute came Fitz, leading her to us. She was meek enough, but +she didn't seem particularly glad to see us. We patted Fitz on the back +and let him know that we appreciated him. + +He had only the one throw, but that had been enough. It was like Van's +last cartridge. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MAJOR HENRY SAYS "OUCH" + + +The sun was just peeping above the Medicine Range that we had crossed, +when we led Sally away, back through the brush and around to strike the +trail beyond the lean-to camp. After we had gone about half a mile Major +Henry posted me as a rear-guard sentry, to watch the trail, and he and +the other Scouts continued on until it was safe to stop and pack the +burro. + +The two renegade recruits did not appear. Probably they were still +sleeping, with the blankets over their faces to keep out the light! In +about half an hour I was signaled to come on, and when I joined the +party Sally had been packed with the squaw hitch and now we could travel +light again. I tell you, it was a big relief to get those loads +transferred to Sally. Even the Red Foxes were glad to be rid of theirs. + +Things looked bright. We were over the range; we had this stroke of +luck, in running right upon Sally; the trail was fair; and the way +seemed open. It wouldn't be many hours now before the Red Fox Scouts +could branch off for the railroad, and get aboard a train so as to make +Salt Lake in time to connect with their party for the grand trip, and we +Elks had three days yet in which to deliver the message to the Mayor of +Green Valley. + +For two or three hours we traveled as fast as we could, driving Sally +and stepping on her tracks so as to cover them. We felt so good over our +prospects--over being upon the open way and winning out at last--that we +struck up songs: + + "Oh, the Elk is our Medicine; + He makes us very strong--" + +for us; and: + + "Oh, the Red fox is our Medicine--" + +for the Red Fox Scouts. + +And we sang: + + "It's honor Flag and Country dear, + and hold them in the van; + It's keep your lungs and conscience clean, + your body spick and span; + It's 'shoulders squared,' and 'be prepared,' + and always 'play the man': + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er! + Hurrah! Hurrah! For we're the B. S. A.! + Hurrah! Hurrah! We're ready, night and day! + You'll find us in the city street and on the open way! + Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!" + +But at the beginning of the second verse Major Henry suddenly quit and +sat down upon a log, where the trail wound through some timber. "I've +got to stop a minute, boys," he gasped. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with +you." + +But of course we didn't. His face was white and wet, his lips were +pressed tight as he breathed hard through his nose, and he doubled +forward. + +"What's the matter?" + +"I seem to have a regular dickens of a stomach-ache," he grunted. +"Almost makes me sick." + +That was serious, when Major Henry gave in this way. We remembered that +back on the trail when we had sighted Sally he had spoken of a +"side-ache" and had sent Fitzpatrick to do the reconnoitering; but he +had not spoken of it again and here we had been traveling fast with +never a whimper from him. We had supposed that his side-ache was done. +Instead, it had been getting worse. + +"Maybe you'd better lie flat," suggested Red Fox Scout Ward. "Or try +lying on your side." + +"I'll be all right in a minute," insisted the major. + +"We can all move off the trail, and have breakfast," proposed Fitz. +"That will give him a chance to rest. We ought to have something to eat, +anyway." + +So we moved back from the trail, around a bend of the creek. The major +could scarcely walk, he was so doubled over with cramps; Scout Ward and +I stayed by to help him. But there was not much that we could do, in +such a case. He leaned on us some, and that was all. + +He tried lying on his side, while we unpacked Sally; and then we got him +upon a blanket, with a roll for a pillow. Red Fox Scout Van Sant hustled +to the creek with a cup, and fixed up a dose. + +"Here," he said to the major, "swallow this." + +"What is it?" + +"Ginger. It ought to fix you out." + +So it ought. The major swallowed it--and it was so hot it made the tears +come into his eyes. In a moment he thought that he did feel better, and +we were glad. We went ahead with breakfast, but he didn't eat anything, +which was wise. A crampy stomach won't digest food and then you are +worse. + +We didn't hurry him, after breakfast. We knew that as soon as he could +travel, he would. But we found that his feeling better wasn't lasting. +Now that the burning of the ginger had worn off, he was as bad as ever. +We were mighty sorry for him, as he turned and twisted, trying to find +an easier position. A stomach-ache like that must have been is surely +hard to stand. + +Fitz got busy. Fitzpatrick is pretty good at doctoring. He wants to be a +doctor, some day. And the Red Fox Scouts knew considerable about +first-aids and simple Scouts' remedies. + +"What kind of an ache is it, Tom?" queried Fitz. We were too bothered to +call him "Major." "Sharp? Or steady?" + +"It's a throbby ache. Keeps right at the job, though," grunted the +major. + +"Where?" + +"Here." And the major pointed to the pit of his stomach, below the +breast-bone. "It's a funny ache, too. I can't seem to strike any +position that it likes." + +"It isn't sour and burning, is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward. + +"Uh uh. It's a green-apple ache, or as if I'd swallowed a corner of a +brick." + +We had to laugh. Still, that ache wasn't any laughing matter. + +"Do you feel sick?" + +"Just from the pain." + +"We all ate the same, and we didn't drink out of that tin can, so it +can't be poison, and it doesn't sound like just indigestion," mused Fitz +to us. "Maybe we ought to give him an emetic. Shall we, Tom?" + +"I don't think I need any emetic. There's nothing there," groaned the +major. "Maybe I've caught cold. I guess the cramps will quit. Wish I had +a hot-water bag or a hot brick." + +"We'll heat water and lay a hot compress on. That will help," spoke Red +Fox Scout Van Sant. "Ought to have thought of it before." + +"Wait a minute, boys," bade Fitz. "Lie still as long as you can, Tom, +while I feel you." + +He unbuttoned the major's shirt (the major had taken off his belt and +loosened his waist-band, already) and began to explore about with his +fingers. + +"The ache's up here," explained the major. "Up in the middle of my +stomach." + +"But is it sore anywhere else?" asked Fitz, pressing about. "Say ouch." + +The major said ouch. + +"Sore right under there?" queried Fitz. + +The major nodded. + +We noted where Fitz was pressing with his fingers--and suddenly it +flashed across me what he was finding out. The _ache_ was in the pit of +the stomach, but the _sore spot_ was lower and down toward the right +hip. + +Fitz experimented here and there, not pressing very hard; and he always +could make the major say ouch, for the one spot. + +"I believe he's got appendicitis," announced Fitz, gazing up at us. + +"It looks that way, sure," agreed Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "My brother +had appendicitis, and that's how they went to work on him." + +"My father had it, is how I knew about it," explained Fitz. + +"Aw, thunder!" grunted the major. "It's just a stomach-ache." He hated +to be fussed with. "I'll get over it. A hot-water bag is all I need." + +"No, you don't," spoke Fitz, quickly--as Red Fox Scout Ward was stirring +the fire. "Hot water would be dangerous, and if it's appendicitis we +shan't take any risks. They use an ice-pack in appendicitis. We'll put +on cold water instead of hot, and I'm going to give him a good stiff +dose of Epsom salts. I'm afraid to give him anything else." + +That sounded like sense, except that the cold water instead of the hot +was something new. And it was queer that if the major's appendix was +what caused the trouble the ache should be off in the middle of his +stomach. But Fitz was certain that he was right, and so we went ahead. +The treatment wasn't the kind to do any harm, even if we were wrong in +the theory. The Epsom salts would clean out most disturbances, and help +reduce any inflammation. (Note 64.) + +The major was suffering badly. To help relieve him, we discussed which +was worse, tooth-ache or stomach-ache. The Red Foxes took the tooth-ache +side and we Elks the stomach-ache side; and we won, because the major +put in his grunts for the stomach-ache. We piled a wet pack of +handkerchiefs and gauze on his stomach, over the right lower angle, +where the appendix ought to be; and we changed it before it got warmed. +The water from the creek was icy cold. We kept at it, and after a while +the major was feeling much better. + +And now he began to chafe because he was delaying the march. It was +almost noon. The two renegade recruits had not come along yet. They +might not come at all; they might be looking around for Sally, without +sense enough to read the sign. But the major was anxious to be pushing +on again. + +"I don't think you ought to," objected Fitz. + +"But I'm all right." + +"You may not be, if you stir around much," said Red Fox Scout Ward. + +"What do you want me to do? Lie here for the rest of my life?" The major +was cross. + +"No; but you ought to be carried some place where you can have a doctor, +if it's appendicitis." + +"I don't believe it is. It's just a sort of colic. I'm all right now, if +we go slowly." + +"But don't you think that we'd better find some place where we can take +you?" asked Fitz. + +"You fellows leave me, then, and go on. Somebody will come along, or +I'll follow slow. Those Red Foxes must get to their train, and you two +Elks must carry the message through on time." + +"Not much!" exclaimed both the Red Foxes, indignant. "What kind of +Scouts do you think we are? You'll need more than two men, if there's +much carrying to be done. We stick." + +"So do we," chimed in Fitz and I. "We'll get the message through, and +get you through, too." + +The major flushed and stood up. + +"If that's the way you talk," he snapped (he was the black-eyed, quick +kind, you know), "then I order that this march be resumed. Pack the +burro. I order it." + +"You'd better ride." + +"I'll walk." + +Well, he was our leader. We should obey, as long as he seemed capable. +He was awfully stubborn, the major was, when he had his back up. But we +exchanged glances, and we must all have thought the same: that if he was +taken seriously again soon, and was laid out, we would try to persuade +him to let us manage for him. Fitz only said quietly: + +"But if you have to quit, you'll quit, won't you, Tom? You won't keep +going, just to spite yourself. Real appendicitis can't be fooled with." + +"I'll quit," he answered. + +We packed Sally again, and started on. The major seemed to want to hike +at the regulation fast Scouts' pace, but we held him in the best that we +could. Anyway, after we had gone three or four miles, he was beginning +to pant and double over; his pain had come back. + +"I think I'll have to rest a minute," he said; and he sat down. "Go +ahead. I'll catch up. You'd better take the message, Fitz. Here." + +"No, sir," retorted Fitz. "If you think that we're going on and leave +you alone, sick, you're off your base. This is a serious matter, Tom. It +wouldn't be decent, and it wouldn't be Scout-like. The Red Foxes ought +to go--" + +"But we won't," they interrupted-- + +"--and we'll get you to some place where you can be attended to. Then +we'll take the message, if you can't. There's plenty of time." + +The major flushed and fidgeted, and fingered the package. + +"Maybe I can ride, then," he offered. "We can cache more stuff and I'll +ride Sally." He grunted and twisted as the pain cut him. He looked +ghastly. + +"He ought to lie quiet till we can take him some place and find a +doctor," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant, emphatically. "There must be a +ranch or a town around here." + +"We'll ask this man coming," said Fitz. + +The stream had met another, here, and so had the trail; and down the +left-hand trail was riding at a little cow-pony trot a horseman. He was +a cow-puncher. He wore leather chaps and spurs and calico shirt and +flapping-brimmed drab slouch hat. When he reached us he reined in and +halted. He was a middle-aged man, with freckles and sandy mustache. + +"Howdy?" he said. + +"Howdy?" we answered. + +"Ain't seen any Big W cattle, back along the trail, have you?" + +No, we hadn't--until suddenly I remembered. + +"We saw some about ten days ago, on the other side of the Divide." + +"Whereabouts?" + +"On a mesa, northwest across the ridge from Dixon Park." + +"Good eye," he grinned. "I heard some of our strays had got over into +that country, but I wasn't sure." + +We weren't here to talk cattle, though; and Fitz spoke up: + +"Where's the nearest ranch, or town?" + +"The nearest town is Shenandoah. That's on the railroad about eight +miles yonder. Follow the right-hand trail and you'll come out on a +wagon-road that takes you to it. But there's a ranch three miles up the +valley by this other trail. Sick man?" The cow-puncher had good eyes, +too. + +"Yes. We want a doctor." + +"Ain't any doctor at Shenandoah. That's nothing but a station and a +store and a couple of houses. I expect the nearest doctor is the one at +the mines." + +"Where's that?" + +"Fifteen miles into the hills, from the ranch." + +"How far is Green Valley?" asked the major, weakly. + +"Twenty-three or four miles, by this trail I come along. Same trail you +take to the ranch. No doctor now at Green Valley, though. The one they +had went back East." + +"Then you let the Red Fox Scouts take me to the station and put me on +the train for somewhere, and they can catch their own train; and you two +fellows go ahead to Green Valley," proposed the major to Fitz. + +"Ain't another train either way till to-morrow morning," said the +cow-puncher. "They meet at Shenandoah, usually--when they ain't late. If +you need a doctor, quickest way would be to make the ranch and ride to +the mines and get him. What's the matter?" + +"We don't know, for sure. Appendicitis, we think." + +"Wouldn't monkey with it," advised the cow-puncher. + +"Then the Red Foxes can hit for the railroad and Fitz and Jim and I'll +make the ranch," insisted the major. + +"We won't," spoke up Red Fox Scout Ward, flatly. + +"We'll go with you to the ranch. We'll see this thing through. The +railroad can wait." + +"Well," said the cow-puncher, "you can't miss it. So long, and good +luck." + +"So long," we answered. He rode on, and we looked at the major. + +"I suppose we ought to get you there as quick as we can," said Fitz, +slowly. "Do you want to ride, or try walking again, or shall we carry +you?" + +"I'm better now," declared our plucky corporal. He stood up. "I'll walk, +I guess. It isn't far." + +So we set out, cautiously. No, it wasn't far--but it seemed _mighty_ +far. The major would walk a couple of hundred yards, and then he must +rest. The pain doubled him right over. We took some of the stuff off +Sally, and lifted him on top, but he couldn't stand that, either, very +long. We tried a chair of our hands, but that didn't suit. + +"I'll skip ahead and see if I can bring back a wagon, from the ranch," +volunteered Red Fox Scout Van Sant; and away he ran. "You wait," he +called back, over his shoulder. + +We waited, and kept a cold pack on the major. + +In about an hour and a half Van came panting back. + +"There isn't any wagon," he gasped. "Nobody at the ranch except two +women. Men folks have gone and taken the wagon with them." + +That was hard. We skirmished about, and made a litter out of one of our +blankets and two pieces of driftwood that we fished from the creek; and +carrying the major, with Sally following, we struck the best pace that +we could down the trail. He was heavy, and we must stop often to rest +ourselves and him; and we changed the cold packs. + +At evening we toiled at last into the ranch yard. It had not been three +miles: it had been a good long four miles. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A FORTY-MILE RIDE + + +The ranch was only a small log shack, of two rooms, with corral and +sheds and hay-land around it; it wasn't much of a place, but we were +glad to get there. Smoke was rising from the stove-pipe chimney. As we +drew up, one of the women looked out of the kitchen door, and the other +stood in a shed with a milk-pail in her hand. The woman in the doorway +was the mother; the other was the daughter. They were regular ranch +women, hard workers and quick to be kind in an emergency. This was an +emergency, for Major Henry was about worn out. + +"Fetch him right in here," called the mother; and the daughter came +hurrying. + +We carried him into a sleeping room, and laid him upon the bed there. He +had been all grit, up till now; but he quit and let down and lay there +with eyes closed, panting. + +"What is it?" they asked anxiously. + +"He's sick. We think it's appendicitis." + +"Oh, goodness!" they exclaimed. "What can we give him?" + +"Nothing. Where can we get a doctor?" + +"The mines is the nearest place, if he's there. That's twenty miles." + +"But a man we met said it was fifteen." + +"You can't follow that trail. It's been washed out. You'll have to take +the other trail, around by the head of Cooper Creek." + +"Can we get a saddle-horse here?" + +"There are two in the corral; but I don't know as you can catch 'em. +They're used to being roped." + +"We'll rope them." + +The major groaned. He couldn't help it. + +"It's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "We'll have the doctor in a +jiffy." + +"Don't bother about me," gasped the major, without opening his eyes. "Go +on through." + +"You hush," we all retorted. "We'll do both: have you fixed up and get +through, too." + +The major fidgeted and complained weakly. + +"One of us had better be catching the horses, hadn't we?" suggested Red +Fox Scout Ward. "Van and I'll go for the doctor." + +"No, you won't," said I. "I'll go. Fitz ought to stay. I know trails +pretty well." + +"Then either Van or I'll go with you. Two would be better than one." + +"I'm going," declared Van Sant. "You stay here with Fitz, Hal." + +That was settled. We didn't delay to dispute over the matter. There was +work and duty for all. + +"You be learning the trail, then," directed Fitz. "I'll be catching the +horses." + +"You'll find a rope on one of the saddles in the shed," called the +daughter. + +Fitz made for it; that was quicker than unpacking Sally and getting our +own rope. Scout Ward went along to help. We tried to ease the major. + +"You should have something to eat," exclaimed the women. + +We said "no"; but they bustled about, hurrying up their own supper, +which was under way when we arrived. While they bustled they fired +questions at us; who we were, and where we had come from, and where we +were going, and all. + +The major seemed kind of light-headed. He groaned and wriggled and +mumbled. The message was on his mind, and the Red Fox Scouts, and the +fear that neither would get through in time. He kept trying to pass the +message on to us; so finally I took it. + +"All right. I've got it, major," I told him. "We'll carry it on. We can +make Green Valley easy, from here. We'll start as soon as we can. +To-morrow's Sunday, anyway. You go to sleep." + +That half-satisfied him. + +We found that we couldn't eat much. We drank some milk, and stuffed down +some bread and butter; and by that time Fitz and Scout Ward had the +horses led out. We heard the hoofs, and in came Ward, to tell us. + +"Horses are ready," he announced. + +Out we went. No time was to be lost. They even had saddled them--Fitz +working with his one hand! So all we must do was to climb on. The women +had told us the trail, and they had given us an old heavy coat apiece. +Nights are cold, in the mountains. + +"You know how, do you?" queried Fitz of me. + +"Yes." + +"That gray horse is the easiest," called one of the women, from the +door. + +"Let Jim take it, then," spoke Van. + +But I had got ahead of him by grabbing the bay. + +"Jim is used to riding," explained Fitz. + +"So am I," answered Van. + +"Not these saddles, Van," put in Ward. "They're different. The stirrups +of the gray are longer, a little. They'll fit you better than they'll +fit Jim." + +Van had to keep the gray. It didn't matter to me which horse I rode, and +it might to him from the East; so I was glad if the gray was the easier. + +We were ready. + +"We'll take care of Tom till you bring the doctor," said Fitz. + +"We'll bring him." + +"So long. Be Scouts." + +"So long." + +A quick grip of the hand from Fitz and Ward, and we were off, out of the +light from the opened door where stood the two women, watching, and into +the dimness of the light. Now for a forty-mile night ride, over a +strange trail--twenty miles to the mines and twenty miles back. We would +do our part and we knew that Fitz and Ward would do theirs in keeping +the major safe. + +That appeared a long ride. Twenty miles is a big stretch, at night, and +when you are so anxious. + +We were to follow on the main trail for half a mile until we came to a +bridge. But before crossing the bridge there was a gate on the right, +and a hay road through a field. After we had crossed the field we would +pass out by another gate, and would take a trail that led up on top of +the mesa. Then it was nineteen miles across the mesa, to the mines. The +mines would have a light. They were running night and day. + +We did not say much, at first. We went at fast walk and little trots, so +as not to wind the horses in the very beginning. We didn't dash away, +headlong, as you sometimes read about, or see in pictures. I knew +better. Scouts must understand how to treat a horse, as well as how to +treat themselves, on the march. + +This was a dark night, because it was cloudy. There were no stars, and +the moon had not come up yet. So we must trust to the horses to keep the +trail. By looking close we could barely see it, in spots. Of course, the +darkness was not a deep black darkness. Except in a storm, the night of +the open always is thinnish, so you can see after your eyes are used to +it. + +I had the lead. Up on the mesa we struck into a trot. A lope is easier +to ride, but the trot is the natural gait of a horse, and he can keep up +a trot longer than he can a lope. Horses prefer trotting to galloping. + +Trot, trot, trot, we went. + +"How you coming?" I asked, to encourage Van. + +"All right," he grunted. "These stirrups are too long, though. I can't +get any purchase." + +"Doesn't your instep touch, when you stand up in them?" + +"If I straighten out my legs. I'm riding on my toes. That's the way I +was taught. I like to have my knees crooked so I can grip with them. +Don't you, yours?" + +"Just to change off to, as a rest. But cowboys and other people who ride +all day stick their feet through the stirrup to the heel, and ride on +their instep. A crooked leg gives a fellow a cramp in the knee, after a +while. Out here we ride straight up and down, so we are almost standing +in the stirrups all the time. That's the cowboy way, and it's about the +cavalry way, too. Those men know." + +"How do you grip, then?" + +"With the thigh. Try it. But when you're trotting you'd better stand in +the stirrups and you can lean forward on the horn, for a rest." + +Van grunted. He was experimenting. + +"Should think it would make your back ache," he said. + +"What?" + +"To ride with such long stirrups." + +"Uh uh," I answered. "Not when you sit up and balance in the saddle and +hold your spine straight. It always makes my back ache to hunch over. We +Elk Scouts try to ride with heel and shoulders in line. We can ride all +day." + +"Humph!" grunted Van. "Let's lope." + +"All right." + +So we did lope, a little way. Then we walked another little way, and +then I pushed into the same old trot. That was hard on Van, but it was +what would cover the ground and get us through quickest to the doctor. +So we must keep at it. + +Sometimes I stood in the stirrups and leaned on the horn; sometimes I +sat square and "took it." + +We crossed the mesa, and first thing we knew, we were tilting down into a +gulch. The horses picked their way slowly; we let them. We didn't want +any tumbles or sprained legs. The bottom of the gulch held willows and +aspens and brush, and was dark, because shut in. We didn't trot. My old +horse just put his nose down close to the ground, and went along at an +amble, like a dog, smelling the trail. I let the lines hang and gave him +his head. Behind me followed Van and his gray. I could hear the gray +also sniffing. (Note 65.) + +"Will we get through?" called Van, anxiously. "Think we're still on the +trail?" + +"Sure," I answered. + +Just then my horse snorted, and raised his head and snorted more, and +stood stock-still, trembling. I could feel that his ears were pricked. +He acted as if he was seeing something, in the trail. + +"Gwan!" I said, digging him with my heels. + +"What's the matter?" called Van. + +His horse had stopped and was snorting. + +"Don't know." + +It was pitchy dark. I strained to see, but I couldn't. That is a creepy +thing, to have your horse act so, when you don't know why. Of course you +think bear and cougar. But we were not to be held up by any foolishness, +and I was not a bit afraid. + +"Gwan!" I ordered again. + +"Gwan!" repeated Van. + +I heard a crackling in the brush, and my horse proceeded, sidling and +snorting past the spot. Van's gray followed, acting the same way. It +might have been a bear; we never knew. + +On we went, winding through the black timber again. We were on the +trail, all right; for by looking at the tree-tops against the sky we +could just see them and could see that they were always opening out, +ahead. The trail on the ground was kind of reproduced on the sky. + +It was a long way, through that dark gulch. But nothing hurt us and we +kept going. + +The gulch widened; we rode through a park, and the horses turned sharply +and began to climb a hill--zigzagging back and forth. We couldn't see a +trail, and I got off and felt with my hands. + +A trail was there. + +We came out on top. Here it was lighter. The moon had risen, and some +light leaked through the clouds. + +"Do you think we're on the right trail, still?" asked Van, dubiously. +"They didn't say anything about this other hill." + +That was so. But they hadn't said anything about there being two trails, +either. They had said that when we struck the trail over the mesa, to +follow it to the mines. + +"It must be the right trail," I said, back. "All we can do is to keep +following it." + +Seemed to me that we had gone the twenty miles already. But of course we +hadn't. + +"Maybe we've branched off, on to another trail," persisted Van. "The +horses turned, you remember. Maybe we ought to go back and find out." + +"No, it's the right trail," I insisted, again. "There's only the one, +they said." + +We must stick to that thought. We had been told by persons who knew. If +once we began to fuss and not believe, and experiment, then we both +would get muddled and we might lose ourselves completely. I remembered +what old Jerry the prospector once had said: "When you're on a trail, +and you've been told that it goes somewhere, keep it till you get there. +Nobody can describe a trail by inches." + +We went on and on and on. It was down-hill and up-hill and across and +through; but we pegged along. Van was about discouraged; and it was a +horrible sensation, to suspect that after all we might have got upon a +wrong trail, and that we were not heading for the doctor but away from +him, while Fitz and Ward were doing their best to save Tom, thinking +that we would come back bringing the doctor. + +We didn't talk much. Van was dubious, and I was afraid to discuss with +him, or I might be discouraged, too. I put all my attention to making +time at fast walk and at trot, and in hoping. Jiminy, how I did hope. +Every minute or two I was thinking that I saw a light ahead--the light +of the mines. But when it did appear, it appeared all of a sudden, +around a shoulder: a light, and several lights, clustered, in a hollow +before! + +"There it is, Van!" I cried; and I was so glad that I choked up. + +"Is that the mines?" + +"Sure. Must be. Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" + +The sight changed everything. Now the night wasn't dark, the way hadn't +been so long after all, we weren't so tired, we had been silly to doubt +the trail; for we had arrived, and soon we would be talking with the +doctor. + +The trail wound and wound, and suddenly, again, it entered in among +sheds, and the dumps of mines. At the first light I stopped. The door +was partly open. It was the hoisting house of a mine, and the engineer +was looking out, to see who we were. + +"Is the doctor here?" I asked. + +"Guess so. Want him?" + +"Yes." + +"He has a room over the store. Somebody hurt? Where you from?" + +"Harden's ranch. Where is the store?" + +"I'll show you. Here." He led the way. "Somebody hurt over there?" + +"No. Sick." + +We halted beside a platform of a dim building, and the engineer pounded +on the door. + +"Oh, doc!" he called. + +And when that doctor answered, through the window above, and we knew +that it was he, and that we had him at last, I wanted to laugh and +shout. But now we must get him back to the major. + +"You're needed," explained the man. "Couple of kids." And he said to us: +"Go ahead and tell him. I'm due at the mine." And off he trudged. We +thanked him. + +"What's the trouble?" asked the doctor. + +"Appendicitis, we think. We're from the Harden ranch." + +"Great Scott!" we heard the doctor mutter. Then he said. "All right, +I'll be down." And we waited. + +He came out of a side door and around upon the porch. He was buttoning +his shirt. + +"Who's got it? Not one of _you_?" + +"No, another boy. He was sick on the trail and we took him to the ranch. +Then we rode over here." + +"What makes you think your friend has appendicitis?" + +We described how the major acted and what Fitz had found out by feeling, +and what we had done. + +"Sounds suspicious," said the doctor, shortly. "You did the right thing, +anyway. Do you want to go back with me? I'll start right over. Expect +you're pretty tired." + +"We'll go," we both exclaimed. We should say so! We wanted to be there, +on the spot. + +"I'll just get my case, and saddle-up." And he disappeared. + +He was a young doctor, smooth-faced; I guess he hadn't been out of +college very long; but he was prompt and ready. He came down in a moment +with a lantern, and put his case on the porch. He handed us a paper of +stuff. + +"There's some lump sugar," he said. "Eat it. I always carry some about +with me, on long rides. It's fine for keeping up the strength." + +He swung the lantern to get a look at us, then he went back toward the +stables, and saddled his horse. He was in the store a moment, too. + +"I've got some cheese," he announced, when he came out again. "Cheese +and sugar don't sound good as a mixture, but they'll see us through. We +must keep our nerve, you know. All aboard?" + +"All aboard," we answered. + +That was another long ride, back; but it did not seem so long as the +ride in, because we knew that we were on the right trail. The doctor +talked and asked us all about our trip as Scouts, and told experiences +that he had had on trips, himself; and we tried to meet him at least +halfway. But all the time I was wondering about the major, and whether +we would reach him in time, and whether he would get well, and what was +happening now, there. But there was no use in saying this, or in asking +the doctor a lot of questions. He would know and he would do his best, +and so would we all. + +Just at daylight we again entered the ranch yard. Fitz waved his one arm +from the ranch door. He came to meet us. His eyes were sticky and +swollen and his face pale and set, but he smiled just the same. + +"Here's the doctor," we reported. "How is he?" + +"Not so bad, as long as we keep the cold compress on. He's slept." + +"Good," said the doctor. "We'll fix him up now, all right." + +He swung off, with his case, and Fitz took him right in. Van and I sort +of tumbled off, and stumbled along after. Those forty miles at trot and +fast walk had put a crimp in our legs. But I tell you, we were thankful +that we had done it! + +And here was our second Sunday. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE LAST DASH + + +That young doctor was fine. He took things right into his own hands, and +Major Henry said all right. The major was weak but game. He was gamer +than any of us. Fitz and Red Fox Scout Ward had slept some by turns, and +the two women were ready to help, too; but the doctor gave Red Fox Scout +Van Sant and me the choice of going to sleep or going fishing. + +It was Sunday and we didn't need the fish. We didn't intend to go to +sleep; we just let them show us a place, in the bunk-house, and we lay +down, for a minute. For we were ready to help, as well as the rest of +them. A Scout must not be afraid of blood or wounds. We only lay down +with a blanket over us, instead of going fishing--and when I opened my +eyes again the sun was bright and Fitz and Ward were peeking in on us. + +They were pale, but they looked happy. + +Van and I tried to sit up. + +"Is it over with?" we asked. + +"Sure." + +"Did he take it out? Was that what was the matter?" + +"Yes. Want to see it?" + +No, we didn't. I didn't, anyway. + +"How is he? Can we see him?" + +"The doctor says he'll be all right. Maybe you can see him. He's out +from under. It's one o'clock." + +One o'clock! Phew! We were regular deserters--but we hadn't intended to +be. + +We tumbled out, now, and hurried to wash and fix up, so that we would +look good to the major. Sick people are finicky. The daughter was in the +kitchen, but the mother and the doctor were eating. There was a funny +sweetish smell, still; smell of chloroform. It is a serious smell, too. + +The doctor smiled at us. "I ought to have taken yours out, while you +were asleep," he joked. "I've been thinking of it." + +"Is he all right?" we asked; Fitz and Ward behind us, ready to hear +again. + +"Bully, so far." + +"Indeed he is," added the mother. + +"Can we see him?" + +"You can stand on the threshold and say one word: 'Hello.'" + +We tiptoed through. The bed was clean and white, with a sheet outside +instead of the colored spread; and the major was in it. The Elks' flag +was spread out, draped over the dresser, where he could see it. His eyes +opened at us. He didn't look so very terrible, and he tried to grin. + +"How?" he said. + +"Hello," said we; and we gave him the Scouts' sign. + +"Didn't even make me sick," he croaked. "But I can't get up. Don't you +fellows wait. You go ahead." + +"We will," we said, to soothe him. Then we gave him the Scouts' sign +again, and the silence sign, and the wolf sign (for bravery) (Note +66), and we drew back. The doctor had told us that we could say one +word, and we had been made to say three! + +We had seen that the major was alive and up and coming (not really up; +only going to be, you know); but this was another anxious day, I tell +you! Having an appendix cut out is no light matter, ever--and besides, +here was the fourteenth day on the trail! The major would not be able to +stir for a week and a half, maybe; yet Green Valley, our goal, was only +twenty-one miles away! + +"It's all a question of the nursing that he has now, boys," said the +doctor, in council with us. "I'm going to trust that to you Scouts; +these women have all they can do, anyway. We got the appendix out just +in time--but if it hadn't been for your first-aid treatment in the +beginning we might have been too late. That old appendix was swollen +and ready to burst if given half a chance. His pure Scout's blood and +his Scout's vitality will pull him through O. K. That's what he gets, +from living right, following out Scouts' rules. But he must have +attention night and day according to hygiene. We don't want any microbes +monkeying with that wound I made." + +"No, you bet," we said. + +"I'll leave you complete directions and then I'm going back to the +mines; but I'll ride over again to-morrow morning. Can't you keep him +from fussing about that message?" + +"We'll try," we said. + +"If you can't, then one of you can jump on a horse and take it over, so +as to satisfy him. You can make the round trip in five hours." + +Well, we were pledged not to do _that_; horse or other help was +forbidden. But we did not say so. What was the use? And it didn't seem +now as though either Fitz or I could stand it to leave the major even +for five hours. The Red Fox Scouts of course must skip on, to the +railroad, or they'd miss their big Yellowstone trip, and we two Elks +would be on night and day duty, with the major. The doctor said that he +would be out of danger in five days. By that time the message would be +long overdue. It was too bad. We had tried so hard. + +The doctor left us written directions, until he should come back; and +he rode off for the mines. + +Fitz and I took over the nursing, and let the two women go on about +their ranch work. They were mighty nice to us, and we didn't mean to +bother them any more than was absolutely necessary. The two Red Foxes +stayed a while longer. They said that they would light out early in the +morning, if the major had a good night, in time to catch the train all +right. But they didn't; we might have smelled a mouse, if we hadn't been +so anxious about the major. They were good as gold, those two Red Foxes. + +You see, the major kept fussing. He was worried over the failure of the +message. He had it on his mind all the time. To-morrow was the fifteenth +day--and here we were, laid up because of him. We told him no matter; we +all had done our Scouts' best, and no fellows could have done more. But +we would stick by him. That was our Scouts' duty, now. + +He kept fussing. When we took his temperature, as the doctor had +ordered, it had gone up two degrees. That was bad. We could not find any +other special symptoms. His cut didn't hurt him, and he had not a thing +to complain of--except that we wouldn't carry the message through in +time. + +"You'll have to do it," said Red Fox Scout Van Sant to Fitz and me. + +"But we can't." + +"Why not?" + +That was a silly question for a Scout to ask. + +"We can't leave Tom." + +"Yes, you can. Hal and I are here." + +"You've got to make that train, right away." + +"No, we haven't." + +"But you'll miss the Yellowstone trip!" + +"We can take it later." + +"No, sir! That won't do. The major and we, and the general, too, if he +knew, won't have it that way at all. You fellows have been true Scouts. +Now you go ahead." + +Scout Van flushed and fidgeted. + +"Well, to tell the truth," he blurted, "I guess we've missed connections +a little anyway. But we don't care. We sent a telegram in this afternoon +by the doctor to our crowd, telling them to go ahead themselves and not +to expect us until we cut their trail. The doctor will telephone it to +the operator." + +We gasped. + +"You see," continued Van, "we two Red Foxes can take care of the major +while you're gone, like a brick. We're first-aid nurses, and the doctor +has told us what to do; and he's coming back to-morrow and the next day +you'll be back, maybe. He said that if the major fussed you'd better do +what's wanted." + +"But look here--!" began Fitz. "The major'll feel worse if he knows +you're missing your trip than if the message is delayed a day or two." + +"No, he won't," argued Van. "We'll explain to him. We won't miss our +trip. We'll catch the crowd somewhere. Besides, that's only pleasure. +This other is business. You're on the trail, in real Scouts' service, to +show what Scouts can do, so we want to help." + +It seemed to me that they were showing what Scouts can do, too! They +were splendid, those Red Foxes. + +"The major'll just fuss and fret, you know," finished Van. "That's what +has sent his temperature up, already." + +"Well," said Fitz, slowly, "we'll see. We Elks appreciate how you other +Scouts have stuck and helped. Don't we, Jim?" + +"We sure do," I agreed. "But we don't want to ride a free horse to +death." + +"Bosh!" laughed Van. "We're all Scouts. That's enough." + +Red Fox Scout Ward beckoned to us. + +"The major wants you," he said. + +We went in. The major did not look good to me. His cheeks were getting +flushed and his eyes were large and rabbity. + +"I can't quiet him," claimed Ward, low, as we entered. + +"Do you know this is the fourteenth day?" piped the major. "I've been +counting up and it is. I'm sure it is." + +"That's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "You let us do the counting. +All you need do is get well." + +"But we have to put that message through, don't we?" answered the major. +"Just because I'm laid up is no reason why the rest of you must be laid +up, too. Darn it! Can't you do something?" + +He was excited. That was bad. + +"I've been thinking," proceeded the major. "The general was hurt, and +dropped out, but we others went on. Then little Jed Smith was hurt, and +he and Kit Carson dropped out, but we others went on. And now I'm hurt, +and I've dropped out, and none of you others will go on. That seems +mighty mean. I don't see why you're trying to make me responsible. +Everybody'll blame me." + +"Of course they won't," I said. + +He was wriggling his feet and moving his arms, and he was almost crying. + +"Would you get well quick if we leave you and take the message through, +Tom?" asked Fitz, suddenly. + +The major quit wriggling, and his face shone. + +"Would I? I'd beat the record. I'd sleep all I'm told to, and eat soup, +and never peep. Will you, Fitz? Sure?" + +"To-morrow morning. You lie quiet, and quit fussing, and sleep, and be +a model patient in the hospital, and then to-morrow morning early we'll +hike." + +"Both of you?" + +"Yep." + +"One isn't enough, in case you meet trouble. It's two on the trail, for +us Scouts." + +"I know it." + +"And you'll take the flag? I want the Elks flag to go." + +"We will," we said. + +"To-morrow morning, then," and the major smiled a peaceful, happy little +smile. "Bueno. Now I'll go to sleep. You needn't give me any dope. I'll +see you off in the morning." And he sort of settled and closed his eyes. +"When are you Red Foxes off?" he asked drowsily. + +"Oh, we've arranged to be around here a day yet," drawled Van Sant. "You +can't get rid of us. We want to hear that the message went through. Then +we'll skip. We ought to rest one day in seven. And there's a two-pound +trout in a hole here, Mrs. Harden says, and Hal thinks he can catch him +to-morrow before I do." + +"You mustn't miss that trip," murmured the major. And when we tiptoed +out, leaving Fitz on guard, he was asleep already! + +So it seemed that we had done the best thing. + +Red Foxes Ward and Van Sant divided the night watch between them so +that we Elks should be fresh for the day's march. We were up early, and +got our own breakfast, so as not to bother the two women; but the report +came out from the major's room that he had had a bully night, and that +now he was awake and was bound to see us. So we went in. + +He had the Elks flag in his hands. + +"Who's got that message?" he asked. + +I had, you know. + +He passed the flag to Fitz. + +"You take this, then. You're sure going, aren't you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"All right. You can make it. Don't you worry about me. I'm fine. Be +Scouts. It's the last leg." + +"You be a Scout, too. If we're to be Scouts, on the march, you ought to +be a Scout, in the hospital." + +"I will." He knew what we meant. "But I wish I could go." + +"So do we." + +"All ready?" + +"All ready." + +He shook our hands. + +"So long." + +"So long." + +We gave him the Scouts' salute, and out we went. We shook hands with +the Red Foxes; they saluted us, and we saluted them. We crossed the yard +for the trail; and when we looked back, the two women waved at us. We +waved back. And now we were carrying the message again, with only +twenty-one miles to go. + +The trail was up grade, following beside the creek, and we knew that we +must allow at least eight hours for those twenty-one miles. It was not +to be a nice day, either. Mists were floating around among the hills, +which was a pretty certain sign of rain. + +We hiked on. I had the message, hanging inside my shirt. It felt good. I +suspected that Fitz ought to be the one to carry it; he was my superior. +But he didn't ask for it, and I tried to believe that my carrying it +made no difference to him. I was thinking about offering it to him, but +I didn't. He had his camera, and the flag wrapped about his waist like a +sash. We'd left Sally and our other stuff at the ranch, and were +traveling light for this last spurt. + +It was a wagon trail right down the valley, and we could travel fast. +The sun grew hotter, and a hole in my boot-sole began to raise a blister +on my foot. Those fourteen days of steady trailing had been hard on +leather, and on clothes, too. + +We passed several ranches. Along in the middle of the morning thunder +began to growl in the hills, and we knew that we were liable to be wet. + +The valley grew narrower, as if it was to pinch out, and the thunder +grew louder. The storm was rising black over the hills ahead of us. + +"That's going to be a big one," said Fitz. + +It looked so. The clouds were the rolling, tumbling kind, where drab and +black are mixed. And they came fast, to eat the sun. + +It was raining hard on the hills ahead. We could see the lightning every +second, awful zigzags and splits and bursting bombs, and the thunder was +one long bellow. + +The valley pinched to not much more than a gulch, with aspens and pines +and willows, and now and then little grassy places, and the stream +rippling down through the middle. Half the sky was gone, now, and the +sun was swallowed, and it was time that Fitz and I found cover. We did +not hunt a tree; not much! Trees are lightning attracters, and they +leak, besides. But we saw where a ledge of shelf-rock cropped out, +making a little cave. + +"We'd better get in here and cache till the worst is over," proposed +Fitz. "We'll eat our lunch while we're waiting." + +That sounded like sense. So we snuggled under. We could just sit up, +with our feet inside the edge. + +"Boom-oom-oom!" roared the thunder, shaking the ground. + +"Boom-oom-oom! Oom! Oom! Boom!" + +We could feel a chill, the breeze stopped, as if scared, drops began to +patter, a few, and then more, faster and faster, hard and swift as hail, +the world got dark, and suddenly with roar and slash down she came, +while we were eating our first sandwich put up by the two women. + +That was the worst rain that Fitz or I had ever seen. Between mouthfuls +we watched. The drops were big and they fell like a spurt from a hose, +until all the outside world was just one sheet of water. The streaks +drummed with the rumble of a hundred wagons. We couldn't see ten feet. +Before we had eaten our second sandwiches, the water was trickling +through cracks in the shelf-rock roof, and dirt was washing away from +the sides of our cave. Outside, the land was a stretch of yellow, liquid +adobe, worked upon by the fierce pour. + +"We'll have to get out of this," shouted Fitz in my ear. "This roof may +cave in on us." + +And out he plunged; I followed. We were soaked through in an instant, +and I could feel the water running down my skin. We could scarcely see +where to go or what to do; but we had bolted just in time. One end of +the shelf-rock washed out like soap, and in crumpled the roof, as a mass +of shale and mud! Up the gulch sounded a roaring--another, different +roaring from the roaring of the rain and thunder. Fitz grabbed my hand. + +"Run!" he shouted. "Quick! Get across!" + +This was no time for questions, of course. I knew that he spoke in +earnest, and had some good reason. Hand in hand we raced, sliding and +slipping, for the creek. It had changed a heap in five minutes. It was +all a thick yellow, and was swirling and yeasty. Fitz waded right in, in +a big hurry to get on the other side. He let go of my hand, but I +followed close. The current bit at my knees, and we stumbled on the +hidden rocks. Out Fitz staggered, and up the opposite slope, through +sage and bushes. The roaring was right behind us. It was terrible. We +were about all in, and Fitz stopped, panting. + +"See that?" he gasped, pointing back. + +A wave of yellow muck ten feet high was charging down the gulch like a +squadron of cavalry in solid formation. Logs and tree-branches were +sticking out of it, and great rocks were tossing and floating. Another +second, and it had passed, and where we had come from--trail and +shelf-rock and creek--was nothing but the muddy water and driftwood +tearing past, with the pines and aspens and willows trembling amidst it. +But it couldn't reach us. + +"Cloud-burst," called Fitz, in my ear. + +I nodded. He was white. I felt white, too. That had been a narrow +escape. + +"We could have climbed that other side, couldn't we?" I asked. + +"We were on the wrong side of the creek, though. We might have been cut +off from where we're going. That's what I thought of. See?" + +Wise old Fitz. That was Scouty, to do the best thing no matter how quick +you must act. Of course, with the creek between us and Green Valley, and +the bridges washed out and the water up, we might have been held back +for half a day! + +The yellow flood boiled below, but the rain was quitting, and we might +as well move on, anyway. + +According to what we had been told of the trail, up at the head of the +gulch it turned off, and crossed the creek on a high bridge, and made +through the hills northwest for the town. Now we must shortcut to strike +it over in that direction. + +The rain was quitting; the sun was going to shine. That was a hard +climb, through the wet and the stickiness and the slipperiness, with our +clothes weighting us and clinging to us and making us hotter. But up we +pushed, puffing. Then we followed the ridge a little way, until we had +to go down. Next we must go up again, for another ridge. + +Fitz plugged along; so did I. The sun came out and the ground steamed, +and our clothes gradually dried, as the brush and trees dried; but +somehow I didn't feel extra good. My head thumped, and things looked +queer. It didn't result in anything serious, after the hike was over, so +I guess that maybe I was hungry and excited. The rain had soaked our +lunch as well as us and we threw it away in gobs; we counted on supper +in Green Valley. + +We didn't stop. Fitz was going strong. He was steel. And if I could hold +out I mustn't say a word. So it was up-hill and down-hill, across +country through brush and scattered timber, expecting any time to hit +the trail or come in sight of the town. And how my head did thump! + +Finally in a draw we struck a cow-path, and we stuck to this, because it +looked as if it was going somewhere. Other cow-paths joined it, and it +got larger and larger and more hopeful; and about five o'clock by the +sun we stepped into a main traveled road. Hurrah! This was the trail for +us. + +The rain had not spread this far, and the road was dusty. A signboard +said, pointing: "Brown's Big Store, Green Valley's Leader, One Mile." We +were drawing near! I tried not to limp, and not to notice my head, as we +spurted to a fast walk, straight-foot and quick, so that we would enter +triumphantly. As like as not people would be looking out for us, as this +was the last day; and we would show them Scouts' spirit. We Elks had +fought treachery and fire and flood, and we had left four good men along +the way; those had been a strenuous fifteen days, but we were winning +through at last. + +That last mile seemed to me longer than any twenty. The dust and gravel +were hot, the sun flamed, my blister felt like a cushion full of +needles, my legs were heavy and numb, that old head thumped like a drum, +and I had a notion that if I slackened or lost my stride I'd never +finish out that mile. So when Fitz stumbled on a piece of rock, and his +strap snapped and he stopped to pick up his camera, I kept moving. He +would catch me. + +A shoulder of rock stuck out and the road curved around it; and when I +had curved around it, too, then I saw something that sent my heart into +my throat, and brought me up short. With two leaps I was back, around +the rock again, in time to sign Fitz, coming: "Halt! Silence!" And I +motioned him close behind the shoulder. + +Beyond the rock the road stretched straight and clear, with the town +only a quarter of a mile. But only about a hundred yards away, where the +creek flowed close to the road, were two fellows, fishing. One was Bill +Duane! + +Fitz obeyed my signs. He gazed at me, startled and anxious. + +"What is it?" he asked, pantomime. + +I held up two fingers, for two enemies. Then I cautiously peeked out. +Bill Duane was leaving the water, as if he was coming; and the other +fellow was coming. The other fellow was Mike Delavan. They must have +seen me before I had jumped back. We might have circuited them, but now +it was too late. I never could stand a chase over the hills, and maybe +Fitz couldn't. + +But there was a way, and a chance, and I made up my mind in a twinkling. +I jerked out the message and held it at Fitz. He shook his head. I +signed what we would do--what I would do and what he must do. He shook +his head. He wouldn't. We would stick together. I clinched my teeth and +waved my fist under his nose, and signed that he _must_. He was the one. + +Then I thrust the message into his hand, and out I sprang. Around the +shoulder of rock Bill and Mike were sneaking, to see what had become of +me. They were only about fifty yards, now, and I made for them as if to +dodge them. They let out a yell and closed in, and up the hill at one +side I pegged. They pegged to head me. + +My legs worked badly. I didn't mind breaking the blister (I felt the +warm stuff ooze out, and the sting that followed); but those heavy legs! +As a Scout I ought to have skipped up the hill as springy and +long-winded as a goat; but instead I had to shove myself. But up I went, +nip and tuck--and my head thumped when my heart did, about a thousand +times a minute. Every step I took hurt from hair to sole. But I didn't +care, if I only could go far enough. Bill and Mike climbed after, on +the oblique so as to cut me off before I could reach the top of the +ridge and the level there. + +Straight up I went, drawing them on; and halfway my throat was too dry +and my legs were too heavy and my head jarred my eyes too much, and I +wobbled and fell down. On came the two enemy; but I didn't care. I +looked past them and saw Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand pelting down the road. +He had cached his camera, but he had the flag and the message, his one +arm was working like a driving-rod, he was running true, the trail lay +straight and waiting, with the goal open, and I knew that he would make +it! + + + + +APPENDIX: SCOUT NOTES + + +CHAPTER I + +Note 1, page 3: Many old-time "scouts" of Western plains and mountains +did not amount to much. They led a useless life, hunting and fighting +for personal gain, and gave little thought to preserving game, making +permanent trails, or otherwise benefiting people who would follow. Their +knowledge and experience was of the selfish or of the unreliable kind. +They cared for nobody but themselves, and for nothing but their wild +haunts. However, these trapper-explorers whose names the Elk Patrol took +were of value to the world at large and deserve to be remembered. + +General William H. Ashley lived in old St. Louis, and became a +fur-trader and fur-hunter in 1822. By his great enterprise he encouraged +other Americans to penetrate the Western country. He led numerous +expeditions across the wild plains and the wild Rockies, and his parties +were great training-schools for young trapper-scouts. He it was who +fairly broke the famous Oregon and California emigrant trail across the +Rocky Mountains by hauling a six-pounder cannon, on wheels, to his fort +in Utah; his men were the first to explore the Great Salt Lake; he was +the first brigadier-general of the Missouri State militia, and after his +fur days he went to Congress. + +Major Andrew Henry was General Ashley's partner in fur. But before +joining with Ashley, in 1810 he had built, in Idaho, the first American +trading post or fort west of the mountains. + +Kit Carson was a real "boy scout," for he took the scout trail in 1826, +when he was only sixteen. Because of his modesty, his bravery, his +shrewdness, and his kindliness, his help to army and other Government +expeditions, and his advice in Indian matters, he is the best-known of +all Western frontiersmen. + +Thomas Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand was an Ashley trapper, and was a captain +of trappers. He afterwards served as a valuable guide for emigrants and +the Government, and was a Government agent over Indians. He was called +by the Indians "Bad Hand," because one hand had been crippled through a +rifle explosion. He was called "White Head," too, because in a terrible +chase by Indians his hair turned white. + +Jedediah S. Smith is known as the Knight in Buckskin. He also was an +Ashley scout or trapper, and he was the first American trapper to lead a +party across to California. Jedediah Smith was a true Christian, and +during all his wanderings the Bible was his best companion. + +Jim Bridger was another Ashley scout. He became a scout when he was +nineteen, before Kit Carson, and is almost as well known as Kit Carson. +He was the Ashley man who discovered the Great Salt Lake, in 1825; he +was the first to tell about the Yellowstone Park; and it was by his +trail that the Union Pacific Railroad found its way over the Rocky +Mountains. + +Note 2, page 4: Boy Scouts know that "taking a message to Garcia" means +"there and back and no breath wasted." When the war with Spain broke +out, in 1898, Captain Andrew Summers Rowan, of the United States Army, +was directed by the President to convey a message from the Government to +General Garcia of the Cuban Army. Nobody seemed to know the exact +whereabouts of General Garcia, who was concealed in the depths of the +island. But Captain Rowan did not wait to ask "when" or "how." Not he. +He pocketed the message, he made for Cuba, he plunged into the jungle, +he found General Garcia, and he brought back the desired report. That +was genuine Scouts' work, without frills or foolishness. + +Note 3, page 5: Two pairs of thin socks are better for the feet than one +pair of thick socks. They rub on each other, and this saves the skin +from rubbing on the inside of the boot. Soldiers sometimes soap the +heels and soles of their stockings, on the inside. + +Note 4, page 6: The "tarp" or tarpaulin, or cowboy bed-sheet, is a strip +of sixteen- or eighteen-ounce canvas duck six to eight feet wide and ten +to twenty feet long. Fifteen feet is long for Boy Scouts. But it should +be plenty wide enough to tuck in well and not draw open when _humped_ by +the body, and plenty long enough to cover, with room for the feet, and +plenty heavy enough to shed wind and water. It is used on the outside, +under and over; and in between, in his blankets, the Scout is snug. The +tarp is simple and cheap and is easily accommodated to circumstances. If +a few brass eyes are run along the edges, and in the corners, then it +can be stretched for a shelter-tent, too. It is much used on the plains +and in the mountains. + +Note 5, page 6: The diamond hitch is the favorite tie by which packs and +other loads are fastened upon burros and horses. It has been used from +very early days in the West, and is called the "diamond" hitch because +when taut the rope forms a diamond on top of the pack. There are several +styles of the diamond hitch, but they all are classified as the single +or the double diamond. Some require only one person to tie them; some +require two persons. They bind the load very flat, they may be loosened +or tightened quickly from the free end of the lash rope, and they do not +stick or jam. Nobody has time to fuss with hard knots, when the pack +must come off in a hurry. + +The simplest form of the diamond hitch is tied as shown here. Scouts may +practice it with a cushion laid upon a porch rail, a cord for a lash +rope, a strip of cloth for the band or cincha, and a bent nail for the +cincha hook. + +The Elk Scouts had under their top-packs a "sawbuck" pack-saddle, which +is a pair of wooden X's; and to the horns of the X's they hung on each +side a canvas case or pannier, in which were stowed cooking utensils, +etc. The blankets, etc., were folded and laid on top, with the +tarpaulins covering, and the whole was then "laired up" (which is the +army and packing term for tucking and squaring and making all +shipshape), so that it would ride securely. The panniers must balance +each other, even if rocks have to be put in on one side to even up; or +else the burro's back will be made sore. Top-packs must not ride wobbly +or aslant. + +A splendid little book for Boy Scouts is the pamphlet "Pack +Transportation," issued by the Quartermaster's Department of the United +States Army, and for sale at a small price by the Government Printing +Office, Washington. It tells about all the pack hitches, with pictures, +and how to care for the animals on the march. This latter is very +important. + +Before Number 3 is formed, the cinch or cincha (the belly-band) must be +drawn very tight, so that the double-twist which makes the loop in +Number 3 will stick. But the rope and cincha are apt to slip and loosen, +unless the Scout takes a jam-hitch or Blackwall hitch around the hook of +the cincha. The rope should be kept taut throughout; and at the last +should be heaved tauter still, so that the diamond bites into the pack +well; and the end of the rope should be doubled back and tucked under so +that it will not drag, and yet can be easily got at. + +[Illustration: THE SIMPLEST SINGLE DIAMOND] + +The lash rope, or pack-rope, in the Army is one-half inch in size and is +fifty feet long; but a forty-foot rope is plenty long enough for Scouts. +A lair rope also is useful in packing. This is a three-eighths inch +rope, twenty-five or thirty feet long, by which the packs may first be +laired or tied up securely so that nothing shall shake out. + +A pack for a burro may weigh from 200 to 250 pounds; but on a long, +rough trip 150 pounds is better. A pack is harder on a mule or a horse +than a rider is, because it never lets up. + +Note 6, page 6: The Indian bow was only two and one-half to four feet +long, so that it could be carried easily when stalking or when on +horseback. The Sioux bow, four feet long, was an inch and a half wide at +the middle and an inch thick, and tapered to half an inch thick and half +an inch wide, at the ends. The Indian bow was made of wood, and of +mountain-goat horns, or of solid bones, glued together. The wooden bow +frequently was strengthened by having hide or sinew glued along the +back. Until they learned the knack of it, few white men could bend an +Indian bow. + +The arrows were of different lengths, but each warrior used the one +length, if he could, so that he would shoot alike, every time. Each +warrior knew his own arrows, by a private mark--by length or by pattern +of stem or of feathers. Some tribes used two feathers, some three. +Scouts can mark their arrows, in the same way. + +The bow and arrow are good Scout weapons. They give no noise. They do +not frighten animals or warn the enemy. They are not expensive. They can +be made on the spot. And it takes Scoutcraft to make them and to use +them successfully. As long as the Indians had only bows and arrows, +there was plenty of game for all. + +Note 7, page 6: The lariat rope, or simply "rope," in the West, is +thirty-five or forty feet long. Usually it is five-eighths, four-ply +manilla, but the best are of braided rawhide. Those bought at stores +have a metal knot or honda through which the slipnoose runs; but cowboys +and Boy Scouts do not need this. They tie their own honda, which should +be a small fixed loop with space enough for the rope to pass freely. The +inside of the loop, against which the rope slips back and forth, may be +wrapped with leather. In throwing the rope, the noose or slipknot should +be opened to four or five feet in diameter, and the free part of the +rope outside the noose should be grasped together with the noose for +about one third along the noose from the honda knot. The remainder of +the rope is held in a coil in the other hand, ready to release when the +noose is cast. The noose (with the part of the free rope) is whirled in +thumb and fingers around the head, until it has a good start; and then +it is jerked straight forward by the wrist and forearm. As it sails, the +honda knot swings to the front and acts as a weight to open the noose +wide. That is why part of the rope is taken up, with the noose, and the +noose is grasped one third along from the knot itself. + +The rope, or lariat, or lasso, is a handy implement for the Scout. The +Western Indians and the old-time scouts or trappers used it a great +deal, for catching animals and even enemies; and when the United States +fought with Mexico, in 1846, some of the Mexican cavalry were armed with +lassos. + +Note 8, page 7: Anybody on the march always feels better and can travel +better when he keeps himself as clean and as neat as possible. Each pair +of Scouts in a Patrol should share a war-bag, which is a canvas sack +about four feet long, with a round bottom and with a top puckered by a +rope. This war-bag is for personal stuff, so that there is no need to +paw around in the general baggage, and no chance of losing things. + +Note 9, page 7: Coffee is popular, but tea is better, in the long run, +and Scouts should not neglect it on the trail. It is lighter than +coffee, is more quickly made, and is a food, a strength-giver, and a +thirst-quencher in one. All explorers favor it. + +Note 10, page 7: Scout Troops would do well to have an official +physician who will make out a list of remedies to be used in camp or on +the march. When Scouts know how to clean out the stomach and the +intestines and how to reduce fever and to subdue chills, and what to +give in case of poisoning, then they can prevent many illnesses and +perhaps save life. The remedies should be in shape to be easily carried, +and should be simple to handle. + +Note 11, page 7: The Indian walk and the old scout walk was the +straight-foot walk, because it covers the ground with the least +resistance. When the foot is turned so that it is pushed sideways, there +is waste motion. The toes should push backward, not quartering, to get +the most out of the leg muscles. George Catlin, the famous Indian +painter, who lived among the Indians of the West before any of us were +born, says that he could not walk in moccasins until he walked +straight-foot. The Indians turned their toes in a little. + +Note 12, page 10: All the Indian tribes of the Western plains and +mountains, and most of the old-time scouts, knew sign language. This was +a language by means of motions of the hands, helped by the body and +face; so that persons could sit and talk together for hours and not +utter a word! In time of danger, when silence is desired, Scouts of +to-day will find the sign language valuable; and by it the Scout of one +country can talk with the Scout of a foreign country. + +A book on the "Indian Sign Language" was written in 1884 by Captain W. +P. Clark of the United States Army, and it gives all the signs for +things from A to Z. + +Fitzpatrick's sign for "Watch!" was to bring his right hand with back +up, in front of lower part of the face, the first two fingers extended +and separated a little and pointing down the trail. The thumb and other +fingers are closed. The tips of the two fingers represent the two eyes +looking! When he meant "Listen!" he put his hand, palm front, to his +ear, with thumb and first finger open, so that the ear set in the angle +of them; and he wriggled his hands slowly. + +Jim Bridger's sign for "Horseback!" was two fingers of one hand placed +astride the edge of the other hand, and the sign for "Wolf!" is the hand +(or both hands) with palm to the front, before the shoulder, and the +first two fingers pricked up, separated like two ears. Then the hand was +moved forward and upward, just a little, like a wolf reconnoitering over +a crest. + +Occasionally the sign for something was not precisely the same among all +the Indian tribes. The Pawnee sign for "wolf" was the first finger of +each hand stuck up alongside the head, like ears pricking. But it was a +sign easily read. All the signs were sensible and initiative. When the +"future" was meant, the finger was thrust ahead with a screwing motion, +as if boring; when the "past" was meant, the hand and finger were +extended in front and drawn back with the screwing motion. When he was +full of food the Indian drew his thumb and finger along his body from +his stomach to his throat. When he was hungry he drew the edge of his +hand back and forth across his stomach, as sign that he was being cut in +two. The sign "talk" is to draw the words out of the mouth with thumb +and finger; while to "stop talking" is the same motion half made and +then slashed by the edge of the same hand being brought down through it. +This means "All right," "That's enough," "I understand," and also "Cut +it out!" "Chop it off!" + +Years were reckoned as winters, and "winter" is signed by the two +clenched hands shivering in front of the body. Days were "sleeps," and +"sleep" is signed by inclining the head sideways, to rest upon the palm +of the hand. "Man" is the first finger thrust upright, before, because +man walks erect. The "question" sign is the right hand bent up, before, +at the wrist, fingers apart, and turned from side to side. To ask "How +old are you?" the Indian would sign: "You," "winter," "number," "what?" + +So Scouts will not find it hard to pick up the sign language; the +motions represent the thing itself. When a sign requires several +motions, a good sign talker will make them all as rapidly as we +pronounce syllables, and he will tell a long story using one hand or +two, as most convenient. + + +CHAPTER II + +Note 13, page 11: The sign for "Bird flying" is the sign for wings. The +two hands are raised opposite the shoulders, palms to the front, fingers +extended and together. Then the hands are waved forward and back, like +wings--slowly for large birds, fast for little birds, to imitate the +bird itself. + +Note 14, page 13: A good way to spread the Scout or cowboy tarpaulin bed +is to lay the tarpaulin out at full length, on the smooth place chosen, +and to lay the blankets and quilts, open, full length on top. Both ends +of the tarp are left bare, of course, for the bedding is shorter than +the tarp. Then the whole is turned back upon itself at the middle; one +edge of the tarp is tucked under, and part of the other edge, making a +bag, with leeway enough so that the sleeper can crawl in. Now there is +as much bedding under as over, which is the proper condition when +sleeping out upon the ground. The bare end of the tarp, under, will keep +the pillow off the dirt; the bare end which comes over will cover the +face in case of storm. The Scout has a low, flat bed, which will shed +wind and rain. + +Note 15, page 13: A reflector is a handy baker. It is a bright-lined box +like half of a pyramid or half of an oven. The dough is put into it, and +it is set upon its base, open to the fire. The heat strikes it and +reflects upon the dough and the dough bakes. It is simple, and can be +made to fold together, so that it packs easily. Another trapper and +scout method is to smear dough upon a shovel or even a flat, smooth +board, and set it up against the fire. The Mexicans bake their +tortillas, or thin flour cakes, by smearing them upon smooth stones. + +Note 16, page 17: Scouts can readily invent a whistle code of their own. +The Western Indians used whistles of bone, in war, and the United States +Army can drill by whistle signals. + + +CHAPTER III + +Note 17, page 21: The teeth are a very important item in Scout service. +If Scouts will notice the soldiers of the United States Army, and the +sailors of the United States Navy, they will notice also that their +teeth are always kept clean and sound. Scouts, no matter where they are, +should brush their teeth well with tooth powder every morning at least; +and should keep them free from particles of food, and should wash their +mouths with a dental antiseptic to kill microbes. Brushed teeth and +combed and brushed hair after the wet rub make the Scout fit for the +day's work. He feels decent. + +Note 18, page 25: Scouts who are in camp or on the trail without +fish-hooks and are hard-put to catch fish, may try an old Indian and +scout method. A bent pin sometimes does not work, with large fish; but +the Indians tied a cord or sinew to the end of a small, slender bone, +and again, with a loop, to the middle of the bone. + +When the fish swallowed the bait impaled upon the bone, the cord or +sinew hauled the bone by the middle so that it usually snagged in the +fish's throat or gills. A sharp, tough splinter or a small nail will do +the same. Thus: + +[Illustration] + + +CHAPTER IV + +Note 19, page 33: Newspaper stuffed into wet boots or shoes helps them +to dry by holding them open and by absorbing the moisture. Of course, +the newspaper should be changed frequently. Warm pebbles poured into wet +boots or shoes dry them quickly, too. A stuffing of dead grass is +another Scouty scheme. + +Note 20, page 36: For a leader of a Scouts' party to write up the chief +events of each day's march in a notebook, and to sketch the country +traversed, teaches order and disciplines the memory, and oftentimes will +prove a valuable record. + +Note 21, page 38: The right-handed or the left-handed person usually is +right-sided or left-sided, all the way down, but not always. So because +a person is right-handed or left-handed he _probably_ is right-footed or +left-footed, but not _necessarily_ so. Some persons use their left hands +to write with, but throw with their right hands, and are likely to use +either foot. And some may be left-handed but right-footed. A Scout +should learn to use both hands and both feet alike. And he also will +learn not to be cocksure and jump at conclusions. All rules have +exceptions. + + +CHAPTER V + +Note 22, page 39: Scouts will find that weather-signs among the high +mountains are very different from those of the low or the flatter +country. The easiest sign of storm is the night-caps. For when in the +morning the mountains still have their night-caps on, and the clouds +rest like shattered fog in the draws and hollows, the day will surely +have rain, by noon. But among the Rockies there usually is a +thunder-storm in the middle of every day during the summer. + +No one wind for all localities brings rain. The weather is interfered +with by the peaks and the valleys. However, here are a few signs to be +noted: + +When by day the air is extra clear, so that very distant ridges stand +out sharply, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When the camp-fire smoke bends down, in the still air of midday or +afternoon, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When by night the stars are extra sharp and twinkle less than usual, +overhead, but are dim around the horizon, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When there is a halo or ring around the moon, a storm is apt to be +brewing; and it is claimed that the larger the circle, the nearer the +storm. + +When the canvas of the tent stays tight or damp, showing a gathering +dampness, a storm is apt to be brewing. + +When ants are noted dragging leaves or twigs across the entrance to +their nest, a storm is near. + +The change of the moon is claimed to change the weather also. And an old +maxim says that the third day before the new moon is the sign of the +weather for that moon month. If the new moon comes upon the 10th, then +the weather of the 8th is to be the general weather of the next thirty +days. + +Of course, in winter time, or in the late fall or early spring, when the +sun-dogs appear, that is a pretty sure sign of cold weather. The Indians +say that the "sun is painting both cheeks," or that the "sun has built +fires to warm himself." + +But Scouts will have difficulty in predicting mountain weather, because +storms are diverted by the peaks, and swing off or are broken up; and +besides, many mountain trails and mountain camps are one mile and two +miles high--above ordinary conditions. The saying is that only fools and +Indians predict weather, in the mountains! + +Note 23, page 39: Scouts as well as anybody else should have their teeth +approved of by a dentist, before starting out on the long trail. The +tooth-ache saps the strength, and a cavity might result in a serious +abscess, far from proper treatment. + +Note 24, page 40: In the thick timber where there are many trees the +chance of course is less that the tree which you are under will be +struck by the lightning. But to seek refuge under any tree, in a field +or other open place, is dangerous. Many persons are killed, every +summer, by seeking some lone tree or small clump of trees, or a +high-standing tree, in a thunder-storm. + +Note 25, page 47: The low soft spot is not so good as the high hard +spot, to sleep on. Green grass is damp, and softness gathers dampness. +Cowboys and rangers always spread their beds on a little elevation, +where the ground is drier and where there is a breeze for ventilation +and to keep the insects away. + +Note 26, page 49: Nobody can cook by a big fire, without cooking himself +too! The smaller the fire the better, as long as it is enough. Just a +handful of twigs at a time will cook coffee or roast a chunk of meat. It +is an old scout saying that "Little wood feeds the fire, much wood puts +it out." Cook by coals rather than by flame. In the West cedar makes the +best coals, the cleanest flame; sage makes a very hot fire, and burns to +ashes which hold the fire, but it does not give hard coals. Anything +pitchy smokes the camp. + +In the mountains meat wrapped in a gunnysack or a tarpaulin, to protect +from the flies, and hung in the shade and particularly in a tree where +the air circulates, will keep a long, long time. + +Note 27, page 49: The brass eyes in the edges of the Elk Scouts' tarps +here would come into good use for stretching the tarp as a low "A" +shelter-tent or dog-tent. The small shelter-tents of the United States +Army are called by the soldiers "pup" tents. + +Note 28, page 53: The notion that many persons have, of taking guns with +them into the mountains or the hills, for protection from wild animals, +is a foolish notion. In this day and age the wild animals have been so +disciplined by man that they are afraid of him. They would rather run +than fight; and throughout the greater part of the United States in +North America the animals who _could_ be dangerous are scarce. Guns do +much more harm than the animals themselves; and it is the wounded animal +which _is_ dangerous. To pack a big gun on the ordinary trail through +the wilderness country West or East is the mark of a tenderfoot, unless +the gun is needed for meat. Many and many a seasoned wilderness +dweller--ranger, cowboy, rancher, prospector--travels afoot or horseback +day after day, night after night, and never carries a gun, never needs a +gun. + + +CHAPTER VI + +Note 29, page 61: One of the regulations of the United States Army Pack +Transportation Department says that packers must treat all the mules +kindly, for a mule remembers kindness and never forgets injury. Packers +must not even throw stones, to drive a mule into line. Of course, Boy +Scouts know that kindness with animals always wins out over harshness, +and that there is no greater cowardliness than the abuse of a helpless +beast. + +Note 30, page 62: Highness and dryness, wood and water, and grazing for +the animals are the requirements of the Scouts' camp on the pack trail. + +Note 31, page 63: By camp law bird or four-foot or other harmless +animals within say two hundred yards of camp is safe from injury by man. +This also prevents reckless shooting about camp. The wild life near camp +is one of the chief charms of camping in the wilderness. No Scout wishes +to leave a trail of blood and murder and suffering, to mark his progress +through meadow and timber. + +Note 32, page 67: This division of watches or guards should be noted by +Scouts. Bed-mates or bunkies should not follow one another on guard; for +A wakes B when he crawls out; and after he has changed with B, and has +slept two or three hours, he is waked again by B crawling in. But each +Scout listed for guard duty should so be listed that he is not disturbed +through at least two of the watches. + + +CHAPTER VII + +Note 33, page 72: A "trail" is made up of "sign" or marks which show +that something has passed that way. The overturning of pebbles and +sticks, dryness and wetness of the spots where they were, dryness and +hardness of the edges of footprints, grass pressed down, twigs of bushes +broken, dew disturbed, water muddied, ant-hills crushed--all tell a tale +to the Scout. He must be able to figure out what was the condition of +the trail when the person or animal passed--and that will tell him how +long ago the marks or sign were made. And the shape of the sign, and the +way in which it is laid, tell what manner of person or animal passed, +and how fast. Steps vary in size, and in pressure and in distance apart. +A man at a very hurried walk is apt to leave a deeper toe-print, and a +loaded horse sinks deeper than a light one. A good trailer is a good +guesser, but he is a good guesser because he puts two and two together +and knows that they make four. + +Note 34, page 74: A portion of a patrol on a scout should think to leave +private signs, by marks in the dirt or on trees or by twigs bent or by +little heaps of stones, which will tell their comrades what has been +occurring. This the Indians were accustomed to do, especially in a +strange country. To this day little stone-heaps are seen, in the plains +and mountains of the West, marking where Indians had laid a trail. + +Note 35, page 77: Great generals and captains make it a point not to do +what the enemy wants them to do or expects them to do, and never to +think that the enemy is less smart than they are themselves. To despise +the enemy is to give him an advantage. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Note 36, page 88: "Parole" means word of honor not to attempt escape; +and in war when a prisoner of rank gives this promise he is permitted +his freedom within certain limits. Sometimes he is released entirely +upon his promise or parole not to fight again during the war. Paroles +are deemed serious matters, and few men are so reckless and deceitful as +to break them. But of course there are two sides to a parole; and if it +is not accepted as honestly as it is given, then there is no bargain. +But if there is the slightest doubt or argument, then the Scout ought to +stay a prisoner, rather than escape with dishonor, charged with breaking +his word. That the other fellow is dishonest is no excuse for the Scout +being dishonest, too. + +Note 37, page 89: The sign for escape is this: Bridger crossed his +wrists, with his fists doubled, and wrenched them apart, upward, as if +breaking a cord binding them. He may have used the "Go" sign, which is +the hand extended, edge up, in front of the hip, and pushed forward with +an upward motion, as if climbing a trail. + +Note 38, page 94: An old scout method of tying a prisoner's arms behind +his back is to place the hands there with their backs together, and to +tie the thumbs and the little fingers! This requires only ordinary cord +and not much of it, and even a strip from a handkerchief will do. To +prevent the prisoner from running away, he may be stood up against a +tree and his arms passed behind that, before the hands are tied. + + +CHAPTER IX + +Note 39, page 100: Persons who are lost and are going it blindly on foot +usually keep inclining to the left, because they step a little farther +with the right foot than with the left. After a time they complete a +circle. Scouts should watch themselves and note whether they are making +toward the left or not. Horses, too, are supposed to circle toward the +left. But all this applies chiefly to the level country. In the +mountains and hills the course is irregular, as the person or horse +climbs up and down, picking the easier way. And on a slope anybody is +always slipping downward a little, on a slant toward the bottom, unless +he lines his trail by a tree or rock. + +Scouts when they think that they are lost should hold to their good +sense. If they feel themselves growing panicky, they had better sit down +and wait until they can reason things out. The Scout who takes matters +easy can get along for a couple of days until he is found or has worked +himself free; but the Scout who runs and chases and sobs and shrieks +wears himself down so that he is no good. + +To be lost among the hills or mountains is much less serious than to be +lost upon the flat plains. The mountains and hills have landmarks; the +plains have maybe none. In the mountains and hills the Scout who is +looking for camp or companions should get up on a ridge, and make a +smoke--the two-smoke "lost" signal--and wait, and look for other smokes. +If he feels that he must travel, because camp is too far or cannot see +his smoke, or does not suspect that he is lost, his best plan is to +strike a stream and stick to it until it brings him out. Travel by a +stream is sometimes jungly; but in the mountains, ranches and cabins are +located beside streams. Downstream is of course the easier direction. + +It is a bad plan to try short cuts, when finding a way. The Scout may +think that by leaving a trail or a stream and striking off up a draw or +over a point he will save distance. But there is the chance that he will +not come out where he expects to come out, and that he will be in a +worse fix than before. When a course is once decided upon, the Scout +should follow it through, taking it as easy as possible. + +Note 40, page 106: Old-time scouts had to make all their fires by flint +and steel; and it is well for modern Scouts to practice this. When the +ground is too wet, and would be apt to put out the little blaze, the +fire can be started in a frying-pan. Matches are very convenient, but +they must be warded from dampness. They can be carried in a corked +bottle; they can be dipped, before leaving home, in melted paraffin, +which will coat them water-proof; and dampness can be rubbed out of them +by friction by rolling them rapidly between the palms of the hands and +scratching them quick. When every object is soaked through, matches (if +dry) may be lighted upon a stone which has been rubbed violently against +another stone. + +If the Scout has a rifle or pistol or gun, then he can make a fire by +shooting powder into a bunch of tinder--raveled handkerchief or coat +lining, or frazzled cedar bark. The bullet or the shot should be drawn +out of the cartridge, and the powder made loose, and the tinder should +be fastened so that it will not be blown away. + +In the rain a blanket or coat or hat should be held over the little +blaze, until the flames are strong. + +It was the old-time scouts who taught even the Indians to make fire by +flint and steel, or by two flints. Two chunks of granite, especially +when iron is contained, will answer. The Indians previously had used +fire-sticks and were very careful to save coals. But they saw that +"knocking fire out of rocks" was much easier. + +Note 41, page 108: Scouts of course know the Big Dipper or the Great +Bear, and the Little Dipper or the Little Bear, in the sky. The Big +Dipper points to the North Star or Pole Star, and the North Star or +Pole Star is the star in the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. +These two formations up above are the Clock of the Heavens. + +The "Guardians of the Pole" are the two stars which make the bottom of +the cup of the Big Dipper. They are supposed to be sentinels marching +around and around the tent of the North Star, as they are carried along +by the Big Dipper. For the stars of the Big and the Little Dipper, like +all the other stars, circuit the North Star once in about every +twenty-four hours. + +But the old-time scouts of plains and mountains told time by the +"Pointers," which are the two bright stars forming the end of the cup of +the Big Dipper. These point to the Pole Star, and they move just as the +"Guardians of the Pole" move. They are easier to watch than the +"Guardians of the Pole," and are more like an hour-hand. With every hour +they, and the "Guardians of the Pole," and all the Dipper stars move in +the same direction as the sun one and one-half the distance between the +stars forming the top of the Big Dipper's cup. The Scout with a good +memory and a good eye for distance can guess pretty nearly how time +passes. + +He has another method, too. The circuit of the stars is not quite the +same as the circuit of the sun; for the stars swing about from +starting-place to starting-place in about four minutes less than +twenty-four hours, so that every month they gain 120 minutes, or two +hours. On May 1, at nine in the evening, the "Pointers" of the Big +Dipper are straight overhead, and point downward at the Pole Star, and +if we could see them twelve hours later, or at nine in the morning, we +should find them opposite, below the Pole Star, and pointing up at it. +On June 1, they would arrive overhead two hours earlier, or at seven in +the evening, and by nine o'clock would be west of overhead, while at +seven and nine in the morning they would be opposite, or halfway around. +On August 1 their halfway places would be at three in the afternoon and +three in the morning. + +So, figuring each month, and knowing where the "Pointers" are at nine, +or at midnight, or at three in the morning, the Scout can read, for +several nights running without appreciable change, what time it is. And +on the plains the old trappers were accustomed to look up out of their +buffalo-robes and say, "By the Pointers it is midnight." + +The Big Dipper swings on such a wide circle that sometimes it drops into +the hills or into mist. The Little Dipper stays high in the sky. +Therefore sailors choose the two brighter stars in the end of the cup of +the Little Dipper, and watch them, for an hour-hand. + +The Blackfeet Indians call the Big Dipper the Seven Brothers, and they, +and also other plains people such as sheep-herders and cowboys, tell the +time by the "Last Brother," which is the star in the end of the handle. +"The Last Brother is pointing to the east," or "The Last Brother is +pointing downwards to the prairie," say the Indians. And by that they +mean the hour is so and so. + +Note 42, page 109: The "Papoose on the old Squaw's Back" is a tiny star, +Alcor, very close to the star Mizar which forms the bend in the handle +of the Big Dipper. To see this tiny star is a test for eyesight. The +Sioux Indians say that the Big Dipper is four warriors carrying a +funeral bier, followed by a train of mourners. The second star in the +train (or the star in the bend) is the widow of the slain brave, with +her little child, or the Little Sister, weeping beside her! + +The Blackfeet and other Indians say that the Pole Star (which does not +move) is a hole in the sky, through which streams the light from the +magical country beyond. They call it "the star that stands still." + +By the "Lost Children" Jim Bridger meant the Pleiades. These stars, +forming a cluster or nebula, sink below the western horizon in the +spring and do not appear in the sky again until autumn; and the +following is the reason why. They were once six children in a Blackfeet +camp. The Blackfeet hunters had killed many buffalo, and among them some +buffalo calves. The little yellow hides of the buffalo calves were given +to the children of the camp to play with, but six of the children were +poor and did not get any. The other children made much fun of the six, +and plagued them so that they drove them out of the camp. After +wandering ashamed and afraid on the prairie, the six finally were taken +up into the sky. So they are not seen in the spring and summer, when the +buffalo calves are yellow; but in the autumn and winter, when the +buffalo calves are black, they come out. + +Nearly everybody can see the six stars of the Pleiades, and good +eyesight can make out seven. By turning the head and gazing sideways the +seven are made plainer. An English girl has eyesight so remarkable that +she has counted twelve. + +The Western Indians have had names for many of the stars and the planets +and the constellations, and the night sky has been of much company and +use to them and to the old plainsmen and mountaineers, just as it was to +Jim Bridger at this time. + +Mars is "Big-Fire-Star"; Jupiter is "Morning Star," or when evening star +is "The Lance"; Venus is "Day Star," because sometimes it is so bright +that it can be seen in the day. Scouts should know by the almanac what +is the morning star, and then when it rises over the camp or the trail +they are told that morning is at hand. + +Note 43, page 110: Sunday comes to the trail, to the mountains and +plains and field and forest, just as often as to the town and the farm. +The Scout will feel much better, mentally and physically, when he +observes Sunday. This one day in the seven can be made different by a +change from the ordinary routine: by a good cleaning up; by only a short +march, just enough for exercise; by a whole day in camp, if possible; by +an avoidance of harm to bird or beast; by some _especial_ arrangement, +which will say, "This is Sunday." The real Jedediah Smith, fur-hunter +and explorer, found as much profit in his Bible as in his rifle, amidst +the wilderness; and the Scout of to-day should include the Bible in the +outfit. It reads well out in the great open, it is full of nature lore +of sky and water and earth, and it is a great comforter and sweetener of +trail and camp. + + +CHAPTER X + +Note 44, page 112: The smoke signal has been in use for many, many +years. The Indians of the West used it much, and whenever an army +detachment or other strangers traversed the plains and the hills their +course was marked by the smoke signals of Indian scouts. To make smoke +signals, first a moderate blaze is started; then damp or green stuff is +piled on, for a smudge; and the column of smoke is cut into puffs by a +blanket or coat held over like a cup and suddenly jerked off. A high +place should be selected for the smoke signal, so as to distinguish it +from the ordinary camp-fire, which is not as a rule made on a high +place,--that is, in hostile country. A still day is necessary for +accurate smoke signaling. This signaling is being recommended for the +United States Forestry Service, so that Rangers and Guards can +telegraph warnings and news by the Morse or the Army and Navy alphabet. +A short puff would be the dot, a long puff the dash; or one short puff +would be "1," two short puffs close together "2," and a long puff "3." +This Army and Navy code is explained under Note 48. + +The Indians had secret codes, for the smoke signals; and used dense +smokes and thin smokes, both. Green pine and spruce and fire boughs +raise a thick black smoke. + +In army scouting on the plains the following signals were customary: + +"Wish to communicate." Three smokes side by side. + +"Enemy discovered." Two puffs, repeated at fifteen-minute intervals. Boy +Scouts need not have the intervals so long. One minute is enough, for a +standard. + +"Many enemy discovered." Three puffs, at intervals. + +"Come to council," or "Join forces." Four puffs, repeated. + +"March to the north." Two smokes, of two puffs each. + +"March to the south." Two smokes, of three puffs each. + +"March to the east." Three smokes, of two puffs each. + +"March to the west." Three smokes, of three puffs each. + +Plainsmen and woodsmen understand the following signals also: + +"Camp is here." One smoke, one puff at intervals. + +"Help. I am lost." Two fires, occasional single puffs. + +"Good news." Three steady smokes. + +Scouts' patrols can invent their own code of smokes, by number of +smokes, by puffs, and by intervals between puffs. Of course, the single +fire is much more easily managed by one person. + +Note 45, page 116: The Red Fox Scouts probably carried with them a +liquid carbolic and antiseptic soap, which comes put up in small +bottles with patent shaker stoppers. A few drops of this in some water +makes a splendid wash for wounds, and is harmless. Druggists and +surgical supply stores can furnish Scouts with this soap. Being +non-poisonous, good for a gargle as well as for external use, it is +superior to many other antiseptic washes. A spool of surgeons' adhesive +tape, say three-quarter inch wide, a roll of sterilized absorbent +cotton, and a roll of sterilized gauze will of course be included in the +Scouts' first-aid kit. + + +CHAPTER XI + +Note 46, page 124: Bichloride of mercury is a strong antiseptic, and +much favored for disinfecting dishes and other vessels used by sick +people. It is convenient to carry, in a form known as Bernay's tablets. +They come white or blue, and one is dissolved in water to make a +solution. They are very poisonous, internally, and Scouts must look out +that none of the solution enters the stomach. Of course, there are many +antiseptic substances for washing wounds: potash and borax are good, +especially in the form of potassium permanganate and boric acid. +Anything in a tablet or a powdery form is easier to pack than anything +in a liquid form. Wounds must be kept surgically clean, which means +"aseptic" or perfectly free of poisoning microbes, or else there may be +blood-poisoning. So Scouts should be careful that their fingers and +whatever else touches a wound also are surgically clean, by being washed +well in some antiseptic. Cloths and knife blades, etc., can be made +clean by being boiled for ten minutes. + + +CHAPTER XII + +Note 47, page 133: When a Scout would climb a tree which looks hard, +particularly a large-trunk tree, he can work a scheme by connecting his +ankles with a soft rope or a handkerchief, or the like, measuring about +two thirds around the trunk. Then when he hitches up along the trunk he +gets a splendid purchase. Several strands of rope are better than one, +so that they will not slip. And if the rope or cloth is wet, it will +stick better. + +Note 48, page 140: All Scouts should know how to wigwag messages. There +are three alphabets which may be used in telegraphing by wigwagging with +a flag or with the cap: the American Morse, such as is used in this +country by the regular telegraph, the Continental Morse, and the Army +and Navy. The American Morse is dots and dashes and spaces; but the +Continental Morse is different, because it does not have any spaces. It +is employed in Europe and in submarine cable work. The United States +Army and Navy have their own wigwag alphabet, which is named the Myer +alphabet, in compliment to Brevet Brigadier-General Albert J. Myer, the +first chief signal officer of the Army, appointed in 1860. Commonly the +system is known as the Army and Navy. + +Scouts will find that knowing the American Morse or dot-and-dash +telegraph signs will be of much value because these can be used both in +wigwag and in electric-wire work; but Scouts to be of assistance to +their country in military time must know the Army and Navy alphabet, +which is easier to learn. + +Instead of the dot and the dash and the space, the figures 1, 2, and 3 +are used. The figure 1, like the wigwag dot, is a quick sweep of the +flag to the right, from the perpendicular to the level of the waist, or +one quarter of a circle. The figure 2 is a similar sweep to the left. +The figure 3 is a "front," or sweeping the flag straight down, before, +and instantly returning it to the upright again. The perpendicular or +upright is the beginning of every motion. The "front" ends things: +words, sentences, messages, etc. + +Here is the Army and Navy alphabet: "A," you see, would be dip to left, +and return; to left, and return. "B," a left, a right, a right, and a +left. + +A 22 +B 2112 +C 121 +D 222 +E 12 +F 2221 +G 2211 +H 122 +I 1 +J 1122 +K 2121 +L 221 +M 1221 +N 11 +O 21 +P 1212 +Q 1211 +R 211 +S 212 +T 2 +U 112 +V 1222 +W 1121 +X 2122 +Y 111 +Z 2222 + +FIGS. + +1 1111 +2 2222 +3 1112 +4 2221 +5 1122 +6 2211 +7 1222 +8 2111 +9 1221 +0 2112 + +ABBREVIATIONS + +a is for after +b before +c can +h have +n not +r are +t the +u you +ur your +w word +wi with +y yes +1112 tion + +SIGNS + +End of word 3 +End of sentence 33 +End of message 333 +Numerals follow (or end) X X 3 +Signature follows Sig 3 +Error E E 3 +I understand (O. K.) A A 3 +Cease signaling A A A 333 +Cipher follows (or ends) X C 3 +Wait a moment 1111 3 +Repeat after (word) C C 3 A 3 (give word) +Repeat last word C C 33 +Repeat last message C C C 333 +Move little to right R R 3 +Move little to left L L 3 +Signal faster 2212 3 +Permission granted P G 3 +Permission not granted N G 3 + +The address in full of a message is considered as one sentence, ended by +3 or a "front," and return to perpendicular. + +This Army and Navy alphabet is easier to read, because it does away with +the pausing or lengthening of the motions, to make the spaces which help +to form some of the Morse letters. Every letter is reeled straight off +without a break. + +Two flags are used in wigwagging. A white flag with a red square in the +center is used against a dark background; a red flag with a white square +in the center is used against the sky or against a mixed background. But +of course in emergency anything must be tried, and for a short distance +the Scout can use his hat or cap, or handkerchief, or even his arm +alone. The motions should be sharp and quick and distinct, with a +perpendicular between each motion and a "front" between words. The Army +rate with the large service flag is five or six words a minute. + +The beam of a searchlight is used just as a flag is used, to sweep +upward for "perpendicular," downward for "front," and to right and to +left. Another system of night signaling is by lantern or torch; but it +should be swung from the knees up and out, for right or 1, up and out in +opposite direction for left, or 2, and raised straight up for "front" or +3. Four electric lamps in a row, which flash red and white in various +combinations, colored fires, bombs and rockets, also make night signals. + +For daytime signaling the United States Army favors the mirror or +heliograph (sun-writing) system. The 1 is a short flash, the 2 is two +short flashes, the 3 is a long, steady flash. This system can be read +through 100 and 150 miles. + +The United States Navy employs a two-arm or a two-flag system, which by +different slants and angles of the arms or flags signals by the Army and +Navy code. It is called the Semaphore system--like the semaphore block +signals of railroads. It is more convenient for windy weather, because +the flags are shorter and smaller than the flags of the three-motion +wigwag. + +Scouts should have in their library a copy of the United States Signal +Corps booklet, "Manual of Visual Signaling," which can be had at a small +price from the Government Printing Office at Washington. This tells all +about the different systems of day and night signaling, and shows +alphabets, signal flags, codes, ciphers, and so forth. + +The Indians of the plains and mountains have had systems of signaling as +perfect as those of the Army and Navy. In early days of the Army on the +plains, the Indians passed news along among themselves over long +distances faster than it was passed by the military telegraph. They used +a smoke code; and they used also mirror-flashes, blanket-waving, +pony-running, foot-running, and hand gestures. + +Their secret signals were never told; no threats or bribes could make an +Indian divulge his tribal or his band code. Not even the white men who +lived with the Indians could learn it. Once some Army officers watched a +Sioux chief, posted on a little knoll, drill his red cavalry for an +hour, without a word or a gesture; all he used was a little +looking-glass held in the palm of his hand. + +However, some of the signs were general. A tremulous motion or flash +meant game or enemy. Several quick flashes, close together, meant "Come +on." A beam to the left meant "By the left"; to the right meant "By the +right." + +When looking for buffalo, the number of flashes would tell how many +bands of buffalo were sighted, and a quivering motion would bid the +hunters to "Come on." + +Scouts will find some blanket signs handy. If the blanket is too large +to manage, fold it once. + +"Who are you?" Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, and +bend with it far to the right and to the left. + +"We want peace." Hold the blanket by the two upper corners, in front, +and bending forward lay it flat upon the ground. + +"Keep away," or "No." Hold up the blanket, grasping the two upper +corners. Cross the arms, still with hands grasping the corners. Bring +right arm back to front and right, almost opening the blanket again. +Repeat. + +"Go back" or "Hide." Hold up blanket by two corners opposite right +shoulder, and swing it to right and down, several times. + +"Alarm!" Toss the blanket several times, as high as possible. + +"Something (or somebody) in sight." Hold up blanket by the two corners +opposite right shoulder. Then swing the right corner around to left and +to right. Repeat. + +"Come on" or "Approach." Hold blanket up by two upper corners in front +of the body. Swing the right arm and corner to the left. Repeat. + +Pony-running signals are usually in a circle, or forward and backward, +on the side of a hill or the crest. If the movements are fast, then the +news is exciting and important. If they are made in full view of the +surrounding country, then the danger is not close. If they are made +under cover, then the danger is near. If they are made under cover and +the rider suddenly stops and hides, then everybody must hide, or +retreat, for the enemy is too strong. The bigger the movements, the +more the enemy or the more the game. A dodging zigzag course shows that +the scout is pursued or apt to be pursued. A furious riding back and +forth along a crest means that a war party is returning successful. Boy +Scouts can make the motions on foot, and by a code of circles and figure +eights, etc., can signal many things. + +Signals by the hand and arm alone are convenient to know. + +"Who are you?" is made by waving the right hand to right and to left in +quick succession. + +"We are friends" is made by raising both hands and grasping the left +with the right, as if shaking hands. + +"We are enemies" is made by placing the right fist against the forehead, +and turning it from side to side. + +"Halt" or "Keep away" is made by raising the right hand, palm to the +front, and moving it forward and back. + +"Come" is made by raising right hand, back to front, and beckoning with +a wide sweep forward and in again, repeating. + +For distance two-arm signals are better than one-arm; and Scouts should +have a short code in two-arms. Both arms stretched wide may mean "Go +back" or "Halt"; both arms partly dropped may mean "No," partly raised +may mean "Yes." And so on. These were plain signals. + +Note 49, page 141: A sprain, such as a sprained wrist or ankle, for +instance, is a serious injury, and must not be made light of or +neglected. If not properly and promptly treated, it is likely to leave +the cords or ligaments permanently weak. When treatment may begin at +once, the injured joint should be laid bare, even if by cutting the shoe +instead of unlacing it and pulling it off, and the coldest water should +be applied lavishly. The joint may well be plunged into an icy spring or +stream, or held under a running faucet. If the joint can be kept +elevated, so that the blood will not flow into it so readily, so much +the better. + +If some distance has to be covered before the injured person arrives in +reach of treatment, the shoe might as well remain on, to act as a +bandage and a support--although it probably will have to be cut off +later. If the joint is not the ankle joint, a tight, stout bandage +should be fastened around. Nobody should try to step upon his sprained +ankle or use his sprained wrist, or whatever joint it may be. + +After swelling has set in very hot water is said to be superior to very +cold water; the very hot and the very cold have much the same effect, +anyway. But the water application should be kept up for at least +twenty-four hours, and the wounded place must not be moved one particle +for several days. When the time comes to move it, it should be wrapped +with a supporting bandage. + +General Ashley probably had a hard time with his neglected ankle. + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Note 50, page 147: The cache (which is a French word and is pronounced +"cash") or hiding-place is a genuine scout invention. Long ago the +trappers and traders of the plains and mountains, when they had more +pelts or more supplies than they could readily carry, would "cache" +them. The favorite way was to dig a hole, and gradually enlarge it +underground, like a jug. The dirt was laid upon a blanket and emptied +into a stream, so that it would not be noticed. Then the hole was lined +with dry sticks or with blankets, the pelts or supplies were packed +inside, and covered with buffalo robe or tarpaulin; and the earth was +tamped in solidly. Next a fire was built on top, that the ashes might +deceive Indians and animals. Or the tent or lodge was erected over the +spot for a few days. At any rate, all traces of the hiding-place were +wiped out, and landmarks were noted well. + +It was considered a serious offense for one white man to molest the +cache of another white man, unless to save his own life. And to rob a +cache of the furs was worse than stealing horses. + +All caches were not alike. Some were holes, others were caves into +banks. When Scouts of to-day make a cache, they must record the location +exceedingly well and close, or they are apt to lose the spot. It seems +very easy to remember trees and rocks and all; but anybody who has laid +a rabbit down, while he chased another, and then has thought to go +straight and pick it up again--or anybody who has searched for a +golf-ball when he knew exactly where it lit--will realize that a cache +may be very tricky. + +Note 51, page 152: The homeopathic preparation of aconite is highly +recommended by many woodsmen and other travelers as a good thing to have +in the trail medicine kit. A few drops will kill a fever or a cold. +Dover's Powder (in small doses, by causing perspiration and thus +checking a fever or throwing off a cold), quinine, calomel (for +biliousness and to clean out the intestines when they are clogged with +waste and mucus), Epsom salts or castor oil (to clean out the bowels +also), an emetic, like sirup of ipecac (to empty the stomach quickly in +case of emergency), some mustard for making a plaster for the chest (in +croupiness or cold inside the chest), or for mixing with warm water to +make an emetic, extract of ginger or sirup of ginger (for summer +complaint and griping looseness of the bowels if long continued), +perhaps some soda mint tablets (for sour stomach caused by overeating), +are other simple remedies. Of course the Scout should learn to read the +little clinical thermometer, and one should be carried in the trail kit. + +It is much better to know exactly how to use a few simple standard +remedies, than to experiment with a lot of powerful drugs and very +likely make terrible mistakes. To give a medicine without being certain +just why and just what it will do is as bad as pointing a gun at +somebody without knowing whether or not it is loaded. Doctors study hard +for years, before they begin to practice; and Scouts cannot expect to +make doctors of themselves in a few months. Head cool, feet warm, bowels +open, moderate eating--these are United States Army rules, and Scouts' +rules too. "An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure"! +Scouts who take care of their bodies properly will rarely need medicine, +and should be proud of the fact. + +Note 52, page 153: In 1909, in California alone, out of 388 forest fires +243, or almost two thirds, were caused by human beings' carelessness; +and 119, or almost one third, were caused by camp-fires! The money loss +to the state was $1,000,000; but this was not all the damage. A forest, +or a single tree, is not replaced in a year, or in ten years; and the +stately evergreen trees grow slowest of all. + +California claims that if a few plain rules were observed, in that state +alone 500 out of 575 forest fires would not occur. Some of these rules +are: + +1. Never throw aside matches, or lighted or smoldering stuff, where +anything can possibly catch from it. + +2. Camp-fires should be as small as will serve. (Most campers build +fires too large, and against trees or logs whence they will be sure to +spread.) + +3. Don't build fires in leaves, rotten wood or sawdust, or pine needles. + +4. Don't build fires against large or hollow logs where it is hard to +see that they are not put out. They eat in. + +5. Don't build fires under low evergreens, or where a flame may leap to +a branch, or sparks light upon a branch. + +6. In windy weather and in dangerous places camp-fires should be +confined in trenches, or an open spot be chosen and the ground first +cleared of all vegetable matter. + +7. Never leave a fire, even for a short time, until you are certain that +it is out. Wet it thoroughly, to the bottom, or else stamp it out and +pile on sand or dirt. + +8. Never pass by a fire in grass, brush, or timber, which is unguarded +and which you can see is likely to spread. Extinguish it; or if it is +beyond your control, notify the nearest ranch, town, or forest official. + +These regulations are for Boy Scouts to remember and to observe, no +matter where the trail leads. + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Note 53, page 161: A fire line is a cleared strip, sometimes only ten, +sometimes, where the brush is thick, as much as sixty feet wide, running +through the timber and the bushes, as a check to the blaze. An old +wood-road, or a regular wagon-road, or a logging-trail, or a pack-trail +is used as a fire line, when possible; but when a fire line must be +cleared especially, it is laid from bare spot to bare spot and along +the tops of ridges. A fire travels very fast up-hill, but works slowly +in getting across. Scouts should remember this important fact: The +steeper the hill, the swifter the fire will climb it. + +There are three kinds of forest fires: Surface fires, which burn just +the upper layer of dry leaves and dry grass, brush, and small trees; +ground fires, which burn deep amidst sawdust or pine needles or peat; +and crown fires, which travel through the tops of the trees. Fires start +as surface fires, and then can be beaten out with coats and sacks and +shovels, and stopped by hoe and spade and plow. The ground fire does not +look dangerous, but it is, and it is hard to get at. Crown fires are +surface fires which have climbed into the trees and are borne along in +prodigious leaps by the wind. They are the most vicious and the worst to +fight. + +The duty of Scouts is to jump upon a surface fire and kill it before it +becomes a sly ground fire or a raving crown fire. + +Note 54, page 171: Even the best surgeons nowadays "fuss" with deep +wounds as little as possible. They clean the deep wound, by washing it +as well as they can, to remove dirt and other loose foreign particles; +then they cover gently with a sterilized pad, and bandage, to keep +microbes away, and Nature does the rest. In the days when our fathers +were boys, salves and arnica and all kinds of messy stuff were used; but +the world has found that all Nature asks is a chance to go ahead, +herself, without interference. + +Unless a bullet, even, is lodged where it irritates a nerve or a muscle +or disturbs the workings of some organ of the body, the surgeon is apt +to let it stay, until Nature has tried to throw a wall about it and +enclose it out of the way. + +So the less a Scout pokes at a deep wound, the better. He can wash it +out with hot water, and maybe can pick out particles of visible dirt or +splinters with forceps which have been boiled for ten minutes. Then he +can bandage it loosely, and wait for Nature or a surgeon. + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Note 55, page 186: The Elks by this time had lost their pack-saddles and +panniers, which had been cached with other stuff after the two burros +were stolen by the renegades. They had lost also their lash ropes with +the cinchas; so that it was necessary to throw some pack-hitch that did +not require a cincha and hook. One of the easiest of such hitches is the +squaw-hitch. The tarps were spread out and the camp stuff was folded in +so that the result was a large, soft pad, with nothing to hurt Apache's +back. Then the hitch was thrown with one of the ropes, as follows: + +[Illustration: Fig. I.] + +[Illustration: Fig. II.] + +[Illustration: Fig. III.] + +Figure I is a double bight, which is laid over the top of the pack, so +that the two loops hang, well down, half on each side. "X"-"Y" is the +animal's back. Take the end of the rope, "c," and pass it under the +animal's belly, and through loop "a" on the other side; pass rope end +"d" under and through loop "b," the same way. Next bring them back to +the first side again, and through the middle place "e," as shown by +dotted lines of Figure II. Keep all the ropes well separated, where they +bite into the pack and into the animal's stomach, and draw taut, and +fasten with a hitch at "e." The result will look like Figure III. + +The diamond hitch _can_ be tied by using a loop instead of the cincha +hook. + +Note 56, page 193: Pack animals and saddle-horses do much better on the +trail if they can be permitted to graze free, or only hobbled. They like +to forage about for themselves, and usually will eat more and better +grass than when tied by a picket rope. During the first three or four +days out, horse or mule is apt to wander back to the home pasture. +Hobbles can be bought or made. When bought, they are broad, flexible +strips of leather about eighteen inches long, with cuffs which buckle +around each fore leg above the hoof. Hobbles can be made on the spot by +twisting soft rope from fore leg to fore leg and tying the ends by +lapping in the middle. + +It is safer to picket a horse by a rope upon the neck rather than upon +the leg. He is not so apt to injure himself by pulling or running. A +picket rope is forty feet long. To loop it securely about the neck, +measure with the end about the neck, and at the proper place along the +rope tie a single knot; knot the end of the rope, and passing it about +the neck thrust the knotted end through the single knot. Here is a loop +that cannot slip and choke the horse, and can easily be untied. + +Sometimes the loose end of the picket rope may be fastened to a tree, or +to a bush. A horse should be picketed out from trees, or in the center +of an open space, so that he cannot wind the rope about a tree and hold +himself too short to graze. Sometimes the free end is fastened to a +stake or picket-pin driven into the ground. But if there is no pin, and +no tree or bush is handy, then a "dead-man" may be used. This is an old +scout scheme. The rope is tied to a stick eighteen inches long, or to a +bunch of sticks, or to a bunch of brush, or to a stone; and this buried +a foot and a half or two feet, and the earth or sand tamped upon it. +Thus it is wedged fast against any ordinary pull. By this scheme a horse +may be picketed out on the bare desert. + +When an animal is allowed to graze free, a good plan is to have a loose +rope twenty or thirty feet in length trail from his neck as he grazes. +This is another scout scheme, used by Indians, trappers, and cowboys. +When the animal declines to be bridled or grasped by the mane, the +trailing rope usually can be caught up. Indians and trappers when riding +depended much upon this trailing rope, so that when thrown they could +grab it instantly, and mount again. + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Note 57, page 206: Flowers as well as animals have their place and their +rights; and they as well as the animals help to make the great +out-of-doors different from the in-doors. A Scout never destroys +anything uselessly or "for fun." + +Note 58, page 211: Scouts should learn how to repair dislocations of the +jaw, the finger, and the shoulder, as these are the least difficult and +the most frequent. A dislocation can be told from a fracture of the bone +by a twisting of the hand or the foot, and by a shortening or a +lengthening of the arm or leg, according to whether the head of the bone +has slipped _up_ from the socket, or _down_. And there is neither +feeling nor sound of the broken bones grating against each other. _But +never go ahead blindly._ + +A Scout who dislocates his own hip, far from help, should try lashing +his leg to a tree, and on his back, clasping another tree, should pull +himself forward with all his strength. But a dislocation of the knee is +much more delicate to manage, and with that or a dislocated elbow the +Scout can contrive to get to a surgeon. + +Note 59, page 214: Yes, Scouts can always manage. The quickest way to +make a blanket stretcher is to double the blanket, tie each pair of +corners with a non-slipping knot, and pass a pole through the fold on +one edge and through the knotted corners of the other. The quickest way +to make a coat stretcher is to take two coats, turn the sleeves of one +or of both inside, lay the coats inside up, or sleeves up, with the +tails touching at the edges. Thrust a pole through each line of sleeves, +and button each coat over the poles. + +Three or four belts or other straps such as camera straps slung between +poles form an emergency litter or seat; and a man who can sit up can be +carried in a chair made by a pole or rifle thrust through the sleeves of +a coat, and the coat-tail tied fast to another pole or rifle. + +When an injured person is too sore to be moved from blanket to litter, +an old scout method is this: Three cross-pieces or short poles are +lashed to connect the two long poles or side poles. One short piece +forms each end and one crosses the middle, thus: + +[Illustration] + +This frame is lowered over the patient, and the blanket that he is on is +fastened to its edges. Then when the litter is ready, he is in it +already! The middle cross-piece is handy for him to grasp, for steadying +himself. + +Small stones rolled in the corners of blankets make a purchase for the +wrappings, and the knots will not slip. + +Scouts may make chairs by clasping hands; but an easy way is to have the +patient sit upon a short board or short pole resting in the hollow of +the bearers' arms. + +In smooth country, and when the sick or wounded person is not too badly +off, the Indian and trapper "travois" or horse litter may be employed. +Two elastic poles about fifteen feet long are united by cross-pieces, +ladder style; and with two ends slung one upon either side of the horse, +and the other two ends dragging, are trailed along behind the horse. The +poles should be springy, so as to lessen the jar from rough places. + +If there is another steady horse, the rear ends of the litter can be +slung upon it, instead of resting on the ground. This is another old +scout and Indian method. + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Note 60, page 216: "Jerked" meat is another genuinely scout institution, +and has been well known to Indians and trappers and hunters in the West +since early times. The air of the Western plains and mountains is very +dry and pure. Venison or bear-meat or beef, when raw may be cut into +strips two fingers wide, a half or three quarters of an inch thick, and +six or seven inches long, and hung up in the sun. In about three days it +is hard and leathery, and may be carried about until eaten. It may be +eaten by chewing at it as it is, or it may be fried. Scouts will find +that, while traveling, a couple of slices of this jerked meat, chewed +and swallowed, keeps up the strength finely. + +When a camp is in a hurry, the meat may be strung over a slow fire, to +make it dry faster; and it may be cured faster yet by smoking, as the +Elks cured it. Some persons use salt; and if they have time they +sprinkle the pile of strips, when fresh, with salt, and fold them in the +animal's green hide, to pickle and sweat for twenty-four hours. But salt +is not needed; and of course the Indians and the old-time scout trappers +never had salt. Trappers sometimes used a sprinkle of gunpowder for +salt; and that is an army makeshift, too. + +After a buffalo hunt the Indian villages were all festooned with jerked +meat, strung on scaffolds and among the teepees. Traders and emigrants +jerked the meat by stringing it along the outside of their wagons and +drying it while on the move. + +Note 61, page 217: This is the Indian and trapper method of dressing +skins, and is easy for any Scout of to-day. The skin is stretched, hair +side down, between pegs, or over a smooth bowlder or log, while it is +fresh or green, and with a knife or bone, not too sharp, is scraped +until the mucus-like thin inner coating is scraped away. This is called +"graining." In the old-time scout's lodge or camp there always was a +"graining block"--a smooth stump or log set up for the pelts to fit over +while being scraped. Do not scrape so deep as to cut the roots of the +hair. Next the pelt is dried. Then it is covered with a mixture of the +brains and pure water, and soaked, and it is rubbed and worked with both +hands until the brains have been rubbed in and until the skin is rubbed +dry and soft. Next it is laid over a willow frame, or hung up, open, and +smoked for twelve hours or so. Now it is soft and unchangeable, +forever. + +When white clay or gypsum was near, the Indians would mix that with +water until the fluid was the color of milk and four times as thick. +Before the skin was smoked it was smeared plentifully with this, and +allowed to dry. Then it was rubbed a long time, until it was soft and +flexible and the clay had all been rubbed away. This took out the stains +and made the skin white. + +Note 62, page 222: Aluminum is not dangerous to cook in. Tin sometimes +unites with acids in foods, or in certain liquids, and gives off a +poison. Tin also rusts, but aluminum does not. And aluminum is much the +lighter in weight, and is a better heat conductor, therefore cooking +quicker. + +Note 63, page 223: "Levez!" is what the old-time scouts-trappers ought +to have said. It is the French for "Rise! Get up!" But some trappers +said "Leve! Leve!" and some called "Lave!" thinking that they were using +the Spanish verb "Lavar," meaning to wash. + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Note 64, page 236: Scouts should bear in mind that practically every +illness demands a cleaning out of the bowels, by a prompt laxative or by +a mild cathartic, in the very beginning. This carries off the poisons +that feed the illness. And Scouts should bear in mind that for a pain +which indicates appendicitis, an ice-cold pack and not a hot pack is the +proper application. The ice-cold pack drives the blood away from the +appendix, and keeps it more normal until the surgeon can arrive. A hot +pack draws the blood to the region and congests or swells the appendix +all the more. Irritated thus, the appendix is apt to burst. The prompt +attention to the bowels is _always_ necessary. + + +CHAPTER XX + +Note 65, page 251: In the dark a horse or mule will smell out the trail +where other horses and mules have passed. The mule has been supposed to +have a better nose than the horse, for trails and for water--and for +Indians. In the camps of emigrants and trappers and other overland +travelers, of the old days, the mules would smell approaching Indians +and give the alarm. + + +CHAPTER XXI + +Note 66, page 260: Among the Western Indians their scouts were +especially selected young men, and these were likened to wolves. They +were instructed "to be wise as well as brave; to look not only to the +front, but to the right and left, behind them, and at the ground; to +watch carefully the movements of all wild animals, from buffalo to +birds; to wind through ravines and the beds of streams; to walk on hard +ground or where there is grass, so as to leave no trail; to move with +great care so as not to disturb any wild animals; and to return with +much speed should they discover anything to report." When the scout +returned with news of a war-party, he howled like a wolf. + +"To scout" was the wolf sign, with the hand turning to right and to left +and downward, like wolf ears pricking in all directions. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLUCK ON THE LONG TRAIL*** + + +******* This file should be named 20710.txt or 20710.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/1/20710 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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