From 8a820571a67afd3d3dbdb11c45dad431dd1e3b36 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Roger Frank Date: Wed, 15 Oct 2025 01:47:11 -0700 Subject: initial commit of ebook 22109 --- .gitattributes | 3 + 22109-0.txt | 4515 ++++++++++++++++++++++++ 22109-0.zip | Bin 0 -> 92952 bytes 22109-h.zip | Bin 0 -> 530976 bytes 22109-h/22109-h.htm | 6613 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 22109-h/images/frontispiece.jpg | Bin 0 -> 39122 bytes 22109-h/images/frontispiece_th.jpg | Bin 0 -> 21490 bytes 22109-h/images/illo1.jpg | Bin 0 -> 81097 bytes 22109-h/images/illo1_th.jpg | Bin 0 -> 41514 bytes 22109-h/images/illo2.jpg | Bin 0 -> 65667 bytes 22109-h/images/illo2_th.jpg | Bin 0 -> 33284 bytes 22109-h/images/illo3.jpg | Bin 0 -> 79254 bytes 22109-h/images/illo3_th.jpg | Bin 0 -> 40466 bytes 22109-h/images/logo.jpg | Bin 0 -> 20704 bytes 22109-h/images/logo_th.jpg | Bin 0 -> 10368 bytes 22109-page-images/c001.jpg | Bin 0 -> 476527 bytes 22109-page-images/f001.png | Bin 0 -> 2684 bytes 22109-page-images/f002.jpg | Bin 0 -> 201743 bytes 22109-page-images/f003.png | Bin 0 -> 10286 bytes 22109-page-images/f004.png | Bin 0 -> 10301 bytes 22109-page-images/f005.png | Bin 0 -> 5379 bytes 22109-page-images/f006.png | Bin 0 -> 31082 bytes 22109-page-images/f007.png | Bin 0 -> 24768 bytes 22109-page-images/f008.png | Bin 0 -> 11703 bytes 22109-page-images/p001.png | Bin 0 -> 28380 bytes 22109-page-images/p002.png | Bin 0 -> 37068 bytes 22109-page-images/p003.png | Bin 0 -> 38067 bytes 22109-page-images/p004.png | Bin 0 -> 36336 bytes 22109-page-images/p005.png | Bin 0 -> 39229 bytes 22109-page-images/p006.png | Bin 0 -> 39928 bytes 22109-page-images/p007.png | Bin 0 -> 38064 bytes 22109-page-images/p008.png | Bin 0 -> 37283 bytes 22109-page-images/p009.png | Bin 0 -> 38080 bytes 22109-page-images/p010.png | Bin 0 -> 39856 bytes 22109-page-images/p011.png | Bin 0 -> 33851 bytes 22109-page-images/p012.png | Bin 0 -> 35845 bytes 22109-page-images/p013.png | Bin 0 -> 35939 bytes 22109-page-images/p014.png | Bin 0 -> 37418 bytes 22109-page-images/p015.png | Bin 0 -> 43277 bytes 22109-page-images/p016.png | Bin 0 -> 35789 bytes 22109-page-images/p017.png | Bin 0 -> 39260 bytes 22109-page-images/p018.png | Bin 0 -> 41299 bytes 22109-page-images/p019.png | Bin 0 -> 40872 bytes 22109-page-images/p020.png | Bin 0 -> 38420 bytes 22109-page-images/p021.png | Bin 0 -> 39596 bytes 22109-page-images/p022.png | Bin 0 -> 35307 bytes 22109-page-images/p023.png | Bin 0 -> 38716 bytes 22109-page-images/p024.png | Bin 0 -> 30261 bytes 22109-page-images/p025.png | Bin 0 -> 26826 bytes 22109-page-images/p026.png | Bin 0 -> 37596 bytes 22109-page-images/p027.png | Bin 0 -> 37965 bytes 22109-page-images/p028.png | Bin 0 -> 39932 bytes 22109-page-images/p029.png | Bin 0 -> 40128 bytes 22109-page-images/p030.png | Bin 0 -> 39710 bytes 22109-page-images/p031.png | Bin 0 -> 37977 bytes 22109-page-images/p032.png | Bin 0 -> 39500 bytes 22109-page-images/p033.png | Bin 0 -> 39898 bytes 22109-page-images/p034.png | Bin 0 -> 35676 bytes 22109-page-images/p035.png | Bin 0 -> 37700 bytes 22109-page-images/p036-insert.jpg | Bin 0 -> 309311 bytes 22109-page-images/p036.png | Bin 0 -> 37542 bytes 22109-page-images/p037.png | Bin 0 -> 39805 bytes 22109-page-images/p038.png | Bin 0 -> 32525 bytes 22109-page-images/p039.png | Bin 0 -> 35278 bytes 22109-page-images/p040.png | Bin 0 -> 37261 bytes 22109-page-images/p041.png | Bin 0 -> 36041 bytes 22109-page-images/p042.png | Bin 0 -> 37229 bytes 22109-page-images/p043.png | Bin 0 -> 40126 bytes 22109-page-images/p044.png | Bin 0 -> 35530 bytes 22109-page-images/p045.png | Bin 0 -> 29030 bytes 22109-page-images/p046.png | Bin 0 -> 39160 bytes 22109-page-images/p047.png | Bin 0 -> 38467 bytes 22109-page-images/p048.png | Bin 0 -> 38059 bytes 22109-page-images/p049.png | Bin 0 -> 37470 bytes 22109-page-images/p050.png | Bin 0 -> 38848 bytes 22109-page-images/p051.png | Bin 0 -> 38561 bytes 22109-page-images/p052.png | Bin 0 -> 38347 bytes 22109-page-images/p053.png | Bin 0 -> 37933 bytes 22109-page-images/p054.png | Bin 0 -> 36626 bytes 22109-page-images/p055.png | Bin 0 -> 21305 bytes 22109-page-images/p056.png | Bin 0 -> 30790 bytes 22109-page-images/p057.png | Bin 0 -> 38667 bytes 22109-page-images/p058.png | Bin 0 -> 38263 bytes 22109-page-images/p059.png | Bin 0 -> 37760 bytes 22109-page-images/p060.png | Bin 0 -> 36088 bytes 22109-page-images/p061.png | Bin 0 -> 29990 bytes 22109-page-images/p062.png | Bin 0 -> 31829 bytes 22109-page-images/p063.png | Bin 0 -> 39074 bytes 22109-page-images/p064.png | Bin 0 -> 37420 bytes 22109-page-images/p065.png | Bin 0 -> 36846 bytes 22109-page-images/p066.png | Bin 0 -> 39713 bytes 22109-page-images/p067.png | Bin 0 -> 39613 bytes 22109-page-images/p068.png | Bin 0 -> 35848 bytes 22109-page-images/p069.png | Bin 0 -> 37890 bytes 22109-page-images/p070.png | Bin 0 -> 38774 bytes 22109-page-images/p071.png | Bin 0 -> 38849 bytes 22109-page-images/p072.png | Bin 0 -> 36796 bytes 22109-page-images/p073.png | Bin 0 -> 14054 bytes 22109-page-images/p074.png | Bin 0 -> 32339 bytes 22109-page-images/p075.png | Bin 0 -> 37991 bytes 22109-page-images/p076.png | Bin 0 -> 38239 bytes 22109-page-images/p077.png | Bin 0 -> 39896 bytes 22109-page-images/p078.png | Bin 0 -> 40471 bytes 22109-page-images/p079.png | Bin 0 -> 40120 bytes 22109-page-images/p080.png | Bin 0 -> 38934 bytes 22109-page-images/p081.png | Bin 0 -> 37469 bytes 22109-page-images/p082.png | Bin 0 -> 37685 bytes 22109-page-images/p083.png | Bin 0 -> 39949 bytes 22109-page-images/p084.png | Bin 0 -> 38200 bytes 22109-page-images/p085.png | Bin 0 -> 38607 bytes 22109-page-images/p086.png | Bin 0 -> 37096 bytes 22109-page-images/p087.png | Bin 0 -> 38448 bytes 22109-page-images/p088.png | Bin 0 -> 18481 bytes 22109-page-images/p089.png | Bin 0 -> 30496 bytes 22109-page-images/p090.png | Bin 0 -> 37217 bytes 22109-page-images/p091.png | Bin 0 -> 38417 bytes 22109-page-images/p092-insert.jpg | Bin 0 -> 249345 bytes 22109-page-images/p092.png | Bin 0 -> 38707 bytes 22109-page-images/p093.png | Bin 0 -> 38910 bytes 22109-page-images/p094.png | Bin 0 -> 38270 bytes 22109-page-images/p095.png | Bin 0 -> 39421 bytes 22109-page-images/p096.png | Bin 0 -> 39426 bytes 22109-page-images/p097.png | Bin 0 -> 39323 bytes 22109-page-images/p098.png | Bin 0 -> 13531 bytes 22109-page-images/p099.png | Bin 0 -> 32312 bytes 22109-page-images/p100.png | Bin 0 -> 37510 bytes 22109-page-images/p101.png | Bin 0 -> 39824 bytes 22109-page-images/p102.png | Bin 0 -> 39462 bytes 22109-page-images/p103.png | Bin 0 -> 39780 bytes 22109-page-images/p104.png | Bin 0 -> 38938 bytes 22109-page-images/p105.png | Bin 0 -> 39006 bytes 22109-page-images/p106.png | Bin 0 -> 37055 bytes 22109-page-images/p107.png | Bin 0 -> 12961 bytes 22109-page-images/p108.png | Bin 0 -> 32685 bytes 22109-page-images/p109.png | Bin 0 -> 36537 bytes 22109-page-images/p110.png | Bin 0 -> 38833 bytes 22109-page-images/p111.png | Bin 0 -> 37470 bytes 22109-page-images/p112.png | Bin 0 -> 38488 bytes 22109-page-images/p113.png | Bin 0 -> 38840 bytes 22109-page-images/p114.png | Bin 0 -> 39146 bytes 22109-page-images/p115.png | Bin 0 -> 40418 bytes 22109-page-images/p116.png | Bin 0 -> 41459 bytes 22109-page-images/p117.png | Bin 0 -> 41001 bytes 22109-page-images/p118.png | Bin 0 -> 38262 bytes 22109-page-images/p119.png | Bin 0 -> 31317 bytes 22109-page-images/p120.png | Bin 0 -> 40545 bytes 22109-page-images/p121.png | Bin 0 -> 38174 bytes 22109-page-images/p122.png | Bin 0 -> 37966 bytes 22109-page-images/p123.png | Bin 0 -> 39788 bytes 22109-page-images/p124.png | Bin 0 -> 39493 bytes 22109-page-images/p125.png | Bin 0 -> 38435 bytes 22109-page-images/p126.png | Bin 0 -> 39315 bytes 22109-page-images/p127.png | Bin 0 -> 24451 bytes 22109-page-images/p128.png | Bin 0 -> 31065 bytes 22109-page-images/p129.png | Bin 0 -> 38113 bytes 22109-page-images/p130.png | Bin 0 -> 38163 bytes 22109-page-images/p131.png | Bin 0 -> 35115 bytes 22109-page-images/p132.png | Bin 0 -> 38657 bytes 22109-page-images/p133.png | Bin 0 -> 37890 bytes 22109-page-images/p134.png | Bin 0 -> 39571 bytes 22109-page-images/p135.png | Bin 0 -> 42357 bytes 22109-page-images/p136.png | Bin 0 -> 38838 bytes 22109-page-images/p137.png | Bin 0 -> 33350 bytes 22109-page-images/p138.png | Bin 0 -> 37979 bytes 22109-page-images/p139.png | Bin 0 -> 39435 bytes 22109-page-images/p140.png | Bin 0 -> 40035 bytes 22109-page-images/p141.png | Bin 0 -> 39132 bytes 22109-page-images/p142.png | Bin 0 -> 39767 bytes 22109-page-images/p143.png | Bin 0 -> 34081 bytes 22109-page-images/p144.png | Bin 0 -> 33956 bytes 22109-page-images/p145.png | Bin 0 -> 36999 bytes 22109-page-images/p146.png | Bin 0 -> 39623 bytes 22109-page-images/p147.png | Bin 0 -> 38072 bytes 22109-page-images/p148.png | Bin 0 -> 40855 bytes 22109-page-images/p149.png | Bin 0 -> 40849 bytes 22109-page-images/p150.png | Bin 0 -> 40040 bytes 22109-page-images/p151.png | Bin 0 -> 38919 bytes 22109-page-images/p152.png | Bin 0 -> 38227 bytes 22109-page-images/p153.png | Bin 0 -> 39208 bytes 22109-page-images/p154.png | Bin 0 -> 39568 bytes 22109-page-images/p155.png | Bin 0 -> 35468 bytes 22109-page-images/p156.png | Bin 0 -> 32765 bytes 22109-page-images/p157.png | Bin 0 -> 39918 bytes 22109-page-images/p158.png | Bin 0 -> 39578 bytes 22109-page-images/p159.png | Bin 0 -> 38606 bytes 22109-page-images/p160.png | Bin 0 -> 37734 bytes 22109-page-images/p161.png | Bin 0 -> 38087 bytes 22109-page-images/p162.png | Bin 0 -> 40047 bytes 22109-page-images/p163.png | Bin 0 -> 37481 bytes 22109-page-images/p164.png | Bin 0 -> 38155 bytes 22109-page-images/p165.png | Bin 0 -> 38309 bytes 22109-page-images/p166.png | Bin 0 -> 37302 bytes 22109-page-images/p167.png | Bin 0 -> 31832 bytes 22109-page-images/p168.png | Bin 0 -> 34073 bytes 22109-page-images/p169.png | Bin 0 -> 38721 bytes 22109-page-images/p170.png | Bin 0 -> 39054 bytes 22109-page-images/p171.png | Bin 0 -> 38621 bytes 22109-page-images/p172.png | Bin 0 -> 38605 bytes 22109-page-images/p173.png | Bin 0 -> 37659 bytes 22109-page-images/p174.png | Bin 0 -> 39283 bytes 22109-page-images/p175.png | Bin 0 -> 28985 bytes 22109-page-images/p176.png | Bin 0 -> 31030 bytes 22109-page-images/p177.png | Bin 0 -> 38696 bytes 22109-page-images/p178.png | Bin 0 -> 37724 bytes 22109-page-images/p179.png | Bin 0 -> 38714 bytes 22109-page-images/p180.png | Bin 0 -> 39456 bytes 22109-page-images/p181.png | Bin 0 -> 37821 bytes 22109-page-images/p182.png | Bin 0 -> 38955 bytes 22109-page-images/p183.png | Bin 0 -> 38590 bytes 22109-page-images/p184.png | Bin 0 -> 38253 bytes 22109-page-images/p185.png | Bin 0 -> 23123 bytes 22109-page-images/p186.png | Bin 0 -> 32799 bytes 22109-page-images/p187.png | Bin 0 -> 37363 bytes 22109-page-images/p188.png | Bin 0 -> 39924 bytes 22109-page-images/p189.png | Bin 0 -> 40390 bytes 22109-page-images/p190.png | Bin 0 -> 37098 bytes 22109-page-images/p191.png | Bin 0 -> 31670 bytes 22109-page-images/p192-insert.jpg | Bin 0 -> 280430 bytes 22109-page-images/p192.png | Bin 0 -> 36991 bytes 22109-page-images/p193.png | Bin 0 -> 39690 bytes 22109-page-images/p194.png | Bin 0 -> 38805 bytes 22109-page-images/p195.png | Bin 0 -> 38790 bytes 22109-page-images/p196.png | Bin 0 -> 33283 bytes 22109-page-images/p197.png | Bin 0 -> 33422 bytes 22109-page-images/p198.png | Bin 0 -> 36798 bytes 22109-page-images/p199.png | Bin 0 -> 37119 bytes 22109-page-images/p200.png | Bin 0 -> 35151 bytes 22109-page-images/p201.png | Bin 0 -> 36996 bytes 22109-page-images/p202.png | Bin 0 -> 38781 bytes 22109-page-images/p203.png | Bin 0 -> 40624 bytes 22109-page-images/p204.png | Bin 0 -> 18830 bytes 22109-page-images/p205.png | Bin 0 -> 32152 bytes 22109-page-images/p206.png | Bin 0 -> 40083 bytes 22109-page-images/p207.png | Bin 0 -> 39101 bytes 22109-page-images/p208.png | Bin 0 -> 38863 bytes 22109-page-images/p209.png | Bin 0 -> 39181 bytes 22109-page-images/p210.png | Bin 0 -> 38488 bytes 22109-page-images/p211.png | Bin 0 -> 36859 bytes 22109-page-images/p212.png | Bin 0 -> 39119 bytes 22109-page-images/p213.png | Bin 0 -> 38317 bytes 22109-page-images/p214.png | Bin 0 -> 37985 bytes 22109-page-images/p215.png | Bin 0 -> 38430 bytes 22109-page-images/p216.png | Bin 0 -> 39221 bytes 22109-page-images/p217.png | Bin 0 -> 38017 bytes 22109-page-images/p218.png | Bin 0 -> 37862 bytes 22109-page-images/p219.png | Bin 0 -> 36955 bytes 22109-page-images/p220.png | Bin 0 -> 37472 bytes 22109-page-images/p221.png | Bin 0 -> 55453 bytes 22109-page-images/p222.png | Bin 0 -> 48499 bytes 22109.txt | 4515 ++++++++++++++++++++++++ 22109.zip | Bin 0 -> 92548 bytes LICENSE.txt | 11 + README.md | 2 + 253 files changed, 15659 insertions(+) create mode 100644 .gitattributes create mode 100644 22109-0.txt create mode 100644 22109-0.zip create mode 100644 22109-h.zip create mode 100644 22109-h/22109-h.htm create mode 100644 22109-h/images/frontispiece.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/frontispiece_th.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo1.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo1_th.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo2.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo2_th.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo3.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/illo3_th.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/logo.jpg create mode 100644 22109-h/images/logo_th.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/c001.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f001.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f002.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f003.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f004.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f005.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f006.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f007.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/f008.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p001.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p002.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p003.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p004.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p005.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p006.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p007.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p008.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p009.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p010.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p011.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p012.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p013.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p014.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p015.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p016.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p017.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p018.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p019.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p020.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p021.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p022.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p023.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p024.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p025.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p026.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p027.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p028.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p029.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p030.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p031.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p032.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p033.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p034.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p035.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p036-insert.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p036.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p037.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p038.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p039.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p040.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p041.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p042.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p043.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p044.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p045.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p046.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p047.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p048.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p049.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p050.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p051.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p052.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p053.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p054.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p055.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p056.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p057.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p058.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p059.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p060.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p061.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p062.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p063.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p064.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p065.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p066.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p067.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p068.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p069.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p070.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p071.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p072.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p073.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p074.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p075.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p076.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p077.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p078.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p079.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p080.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p081.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p082.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p083.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p084.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p085.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p086.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p087.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p088.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p089.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p090.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p091.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p092-insert.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p092.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p093.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p094.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p095.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p096.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p097.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p098.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p099.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p100.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p101.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p102.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p103.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p104.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p105.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p106.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p107.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p108.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p109.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p110.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p111.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p112.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p113.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p114.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p115.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p116.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p117.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p118.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p119.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p120.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p121.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p122.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p123.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p124.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p125.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p126.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p127.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p128.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p129.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p130.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p131.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p132.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p133.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p134.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p135.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p136.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p137.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p138.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p139.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p140.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p141.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p142.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p143.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p144.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p145.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p146.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p147.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p148.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p149.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p150.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p151.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p152.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p153.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p154.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p155.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p156.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p157.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p158.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p159.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p160.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p161.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p162.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p163.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p164.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p165.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p166.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p167.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p168.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p169.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p170.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p171.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p172.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p173.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p174.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p175.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p176.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p177.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p178.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p179.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p180.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p181.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p182.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p183.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p184.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p185.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p186.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p187.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p188.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p189.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p190.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p191.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p192-insert.jpg create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p192.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p193.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p194.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p195.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p196.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p197.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p198.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p199.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p200.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p201.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p202.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p203.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p204.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p205.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p206.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p207.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p208.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p209.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p210.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p211.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p212.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p213.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p214.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p215.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p216.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p217.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p218.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p219.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p220.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p221.png create mode 100644 22109-page-images/p222.png create mode 100644 22109.txt create mode 100644 22109.zip create mode 100644 LICENSE.txt create mode 100644 README.md 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/22109-0.txt b/22109-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..788e3b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/22109-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4515 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard + +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: The Black Wolf Pack + +Author: Dan Beard + +Release Date: July 19, 2007 [EBook #22109] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + THE + BLACK WOLF PACK + + BY + + DAN BEARD + + NATIONAL SCOUT COMMISSIONER, B.S.A. + + + ILLUSTRATED + + + CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS + NEW YORK + + + +[Illustration: It was a shadowy figure yet it moved] + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY +CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY BOYS’ LIFE + +Printed in the United States of America + +_All rights reserved. No part of this book +may be reproduced in any form without +the permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons_ + + + + DEDICATED TO + + BELMORE AND FRED + (BELMORE BROWNE) (FREDERICK K. VREELAND) + + NO BETTER WILDERNESS MEN EVER + WORE MOCCASINS + + + + +PREFACE + + +After numerous visits to a number of remote and unfrequented places in +the Rocky Mountains, from Wyoming to Alberta, the writer was deeply +impressed with the awesome mystery of the wilderness and the weird +legends he heard around the camp fires, while the bigness of the things +he saw was photographed on his brain so distinctly and permanently as to +act as a compelling force causing him, aye, almost forcing him to write +about it. + +When the spell came upon him, like the Ancient Mariner, he needs must +tell the story, and thus the tale of the Black Wolf Pack was written +with no thought, at the time, of publishing the narrative, but primarily +for the real enjoyment the author derived from writing it, and also for +the entertainment of the author’s family and intimate friends. + +The tale, however, pleased the members of the Editorial Board of the Boy +Scouts of America, and Mr. Franklin K. Mathiews, Chief Scout Librarian, +asked permission to have it edited for the Scout Magazine, which request +was cheerfully granted. + +The author hereby freely and cheerfully acknowledges the useful changes +and practical suggestions injected into the story by his friend and +associate, Mr. Irving Crump, Editor of Boys’ Life, in which magazine the +Black Wolf Pack, in somewhat abbreviated form, first appeared. + +DAN BEARD. + +Flushing, +June 1st, 1922. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +It was a shadowy figure yet it moved _Frontispiece_ + FACING PAGE +The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt +... and struck the bull 36 + +More than once while I clung to the chance projection +... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt 92 + +“I think the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character to a +nicety” 192 + + + + +The Black Wolf Pack + +CHAPTER I + + +It was a terrible shock to me (said the Scoutmaster as he fingered a +beaded buckskin bag). Old Blink Broosmore was responsible. It was a +malicious thing for him to do. He meant it to be mean, too,—wanted to +hurt me,—to wound my feelings and make me ashamed. And all because he +nursed a grudge against dad—I mean Mr. Crawford. + +It started because of that defective spark-plug in the engine of the +roadster. Strange what a tiny thing such as a crack in a porcelain +jacket around an old spark-plug can do in the way of changing the course +of a fellow’s whole life. + +My last period in the afternoon at high school was a study period and I +cut it because I had several things to do down town. I hurried home and +took the roadster, and on my way out mother—I mean Mrs. Crawford—gave +me an armful of books to return to the library and a list of errands she +wanted me to do. While motoring down town I noticed that one cylinder +was missing occasionally and I told myself I would change that +spark-plug as soon as I got home. + +I made all the stops I had planned and even drove around to the church +because I wanted to look in at the parish house where some of my scouts +(I was the assistant scoutmaster of Troop 6, of Marlborough) were +putting up decorations for the very first Fathers and Sons dinner ever +given which we were to have on Washington’s birthday. That was in 1911. + +As I was leaving I looked at my new wrist watch and discovered that it +was a quarter of five. + +“Just in time to catch dad and drive him home from the office,” I said +to myself, for I knew that he left the office of his big paper-mill +down at the docks at five o’clock. + +I jumped into the car and bowled along down Spring Street and the Front +Street hill and arrived at the mill office at exactly five. Dad wasn’t +in sight so I decided to turn around and wait for him at the curb. That +is how the trouble started. I got part way around on the hill when that +cylinder began missing a lot and next thing I knew the motor stalled and +there was I with my car crosswise on the hill, blocking traffic—and +traffic is heavy on Front Street hill about five o’clock, because all +the mills are rushing their trucks down to the piers with the last loads +of merchandise before the down-river boats leave, at six o’clock. + +In about two minutes I was holding up a line of trucks a block long and +those drivers were saying a lot of things that were not very +complimentary to me and not printed in Sunday-school papers. And old +Blink Broosmore was right up at the head of the line with a truck load +of cases from the box factory and the look on his face was about as ugly +as a mud turtle’s. Then, to make matters worse, my starter wouldn’t work +at the critical moment, and I had to get out to crank the engine. What a +howl of indignation went up from those stalled truck drivers! I felt +like a bad two-cent piece in a drawer full of five-dollar gold pieces. +Guess my face was red behind my ears. + +And then old Blink made the unkindest remark of all—no, he didn’t make +it to me; he just yelled it out to a couple of other truck-drivers. + +“That’s what happens with these make-believe dudes,” he shouted. “That’s +the kid old Skin Flint Crawford took out of an orphan asylum. He’s a kid +that old Crawford took up with because he was too mean t’ have t’ Lord +bless him with one o’ his own. That’s straight, fellers. I was +Crawford’s gardener when it happened an’—” + +Old Blink stopped and got red and then white, and I could see the other +truck men looking uncomfortable. I looked up and there was Dad Crawford +on the curb boring holes into Blink with those cold gray eyes of his and +looking as white as marble. No one said a word. It seemed as if the +whole street became hushed and silent. I got the car around to the curb +somehow and dad got in and the line of trucks trundled by with every +driver looking straight ahead and some of them grinning nervously and +apparently feeling mighty uncomfortable. + +But that wasn’t a patch to the way I felt, and I could see by the lack +of color and set expression of dad’s face and the way he stared straight +ahead of him without saying a word that he was feeling very unhappy +about it too. There was something behind it all—something that raised +in my mind vague doubts and very unpleasant thoughts. + +Dad never spoke a word all the way home, and, needless to say, I did not +either—I couldn’t; my whole world seemed to have been turned upside +down in the space of half an hour. Was it true that I was not Donald +Crawford? Was it possible that Alexander Crawford, this fine, big, +broad-shouldered, kindly man beside me was not my real father? Was it a +fact that that noble, generous, happy woman whom I called mamma was not +my mother at all? Each of those questions took shape in my mind and each +was like a stab in the heart, for Blink Broosmore had answered them all, +and Alexander Crawford, though he must know how anxious I was to have +Blink denied, did not speak to refute him. + +We rolled up the drive and dad stepped out, still silent, but he did +smile wistfully at me as he closed the car door. + +“Put it away, Don, and hurry in for dinner,” he said and I felt certain +I detected a break in his voice. I felt sorry—sorry for him and sorry +for myself, and as I put the car in the garage, I had a hard time trying +to see things clearly; my eyes would get blurred and a lump would get +into my throat in spite of me. + +As I dressed for dinner I felt half dazed. I hardly realized what I was +doing, and I had to stop and pull myself together before I started +downstairs to the dining room, for I knew if I did not have myself well +in hand I would blubber like a big chump. + +Mother and dad were waiting for me and I could see by mother’s sad +expression and the troubled look in her eyes that dad had told her of +the whole occurrence. And that only added to my unhappiness because I +felt for a certainty that all that Blink Broosmore had shouted must be +true. + +For the first time in my memory dad forgot to say grace, and none of us +ate with any apparent relish and none of us tried to make conversation. +It was a painful sort of a meal and I wanted to have it over with as +soon as I could. It seemed hours before Nora cleared the table and +served dad’s demi-tasse. + +I guess I then looked him full in the eyes for the first time since the +occurrence on Front Street. + +“That was a very unkind thing for Blink Broosmore to do,” said dad, and +I knew by the firmness and evenness of his voice that he had gained full +control of his feelings. + +“Is—is—oh, did he tell the truth, dad?” I gulped helplessly and for +the life of me I could not keep back the tears. + +“Unfortunately, Donald, there is just enough truth in it to make it +hurt,” said dad and I could see mother wince as if she had been struck, +and turn away her face. + +“They why—why? Oh! who am I?” I cried, for the whole thing had +completely unnerved me. + +“Don dear, we do not know to a certainty,” said mother struggling with +her emotions. + +“But now that you are partly aware of the situation, I think there is a +way you can find out, at least as much as we know,” said dad, getting up +and going into the library. + +Through the doorway I could see him fumbling at the safe that he kept +there beside the desk. Presently he drew out a battered and dented red +tin box and a bundle of papers. These he brought into the dining room +and laid on the table. Then he drew up a chair, cleared his throat, +rather loudly it seemed to me, and began. + +“Don, we always wanted a child, and why the Lord never blessed us with +one of our own we do not know. Anyway, we wanted one so badly that we +decided to adopt one. That was seventeen years ago, wasn’t it, mother?” + +Mother nodded. + +“Doctor Raymond, the physician at the county institution, knew our +desires and, being an old friend of the family, he volunteered to find +us a good healthy baby that we could adopt and call our own. Not a week +later you appeared on the scene. Dr. Raymond told us that a wagon drawn +by a raw-boned horse, and loaded with household goods, drew up to the +orphanage and a tired and worn-out looking old lady got out with a lusty +year old child in one arm and this box and these papers under the +other. + +“At the office of the asylum she explained how she and her husband were +moving from a Connecticut town to a little farm they had bought in +Pennsylvania. Somewhere at a crossroad near Derby, Connecticut, they had +found the baby and this box and bundle of papers in a basket under a +bush with a card attached to the basket requesting that the finder adopt +and take care of the baby. + +“Of course, they could not pass the infant by, but the woman explained +that they were too poor and too old to adopt the child so they had gone +miles out of their way to find an orphanage and leave the baby there, +along with the box and papers. + +“When Dr. Raymond heard the story and saw you, for you were the baby, he +got me on the telephone and told me all about you. And that night he +brought you here, and you were such a chubby, bright, interesting little +fellow that mother and I fell in love with you immediately and decided +to adopt you, which we did according to law. So you are our legal +child, Don, and all that, although we are not your real parents.” + +Somehow that made me feel a little happier. Dad and mother did have a +claim on me at least. That was something. + +“It was not until after Dr. Raymond had left,” went on father, “that +mother and I examined the box and papers that had come with you. Here +they are.” + +Dad took up a worn and age-yellowed envelope addressed in a bold hand: + + To the Finder + +Inside was the following brief message: + + TO THE FINDER:— + + The mother of this child, Donald Mullen, is dead. I, his father, + cannot give him the care he should have. Will you, the finder, + adopt him, care for him, and bring him up to be an honest, + trustworthy man, and win the eternal gratitude of his dead + mother and + + DONALD MULLEN, + his father. + +“Then my name is—or was Mullen,” I exclaimed. + +“According to that,” said dad softly, “but when you became our son we +kept your first name and discarded the family name of course.” + +“But—but what has become of my father, Donald Mullen?” I asked. + +“My boy, we have tried both for your sake and for our own to find out. +We have followed up and searched every possible clue and—but wait, here +are other papers of interest and after you have read them I will tell +you all we have done to locate your real father and afterwards we will +talk the whole situation over.” As dad was speaking he passed over the +battered tin box. On the lid was inscribed the simple lines— + + The contents of this box belong to the boy. If you are honest + you will see that it comes into his hands at the proper time. If + you are dishonest, then God help the boy and God help you! + + D. MULLEN. + +It was some time before I could make up my mind to force the lid. When I +did the first thing that my eyes fell upon was this buckskin bag of +unmistakable Indian design, beautifully decorated with bead work and +highly colored porcupine quills cunningly worked into a good luck +design. As I picked up the bag I saw that it was sealed with wax and to +it was attached a card on which was penned: + + To my son:— + + Here is all the wealth I possess. It isn’t much. The bag with + its contents was sent to me by my brother, Fay, who is out in + the Rockies. He gave it to me to pay my expenses out there to + join him. I am leaving it for you. It may help you over some + rocky places if it ever gets into your hands, and I trust the + good Lord that it does. + + Lovingly, + YOUR FATHER. + +The bag gave forth the unmistakable clink of gold coins as I dropped it +on the table. + +That message from my father, whom I had never seen, made my heart heavy +and again that lump gathered in my throat, for I could feel the +heartaches that the writing of that note must have caused him. I had not +the courage to break the seal of the bag and examine its contents. I +pushed it aside and took from the box another time-yellowed envelope +addressed to + + MY SON DONALD + +Inside I found the following: + + Dear Boy:— + + I cannot determine whether I am giving you a mean deal or + whether this is all for your good. Your mother, Barbara Parker + Mullen, is dead, God bless her! She has been dead now six + months. It seems to me like eternity. I have tried to take care + of you as she would have cared for you but I am afraid I have + lost heart, and my courage, and I am afraid my faith has slipped + from me. I fear that I am a broken-spirited failure. The passing + of your mother has taken everything from me. I am no longer fit + or able to care for you and I must pass you on to someone else + and trust your welfare to God. For neither your mother nor I + have any relatives left who are able to take care of you. + + What will become of you I cannot guess. I can only hope for the + best. But by the time you are old enough to read and understand + this message you will, I hope, have forgiven me or praised me + for my effort to find you a home. + + What will become of me I do not know. I have one brother left in + the world, Fay Mullen, and he is out in Piute Pass in the + Rockies grubbing for gold. I am going out to join him for I know + the only way I can forget my grief and get hold of myself once + more is to bury myself in the wilderness. + + Fay has sent me a bag of double eagles to pay my expenses west. + That is all the money I have in the world. I am not going to use + it. I will work my way west and leave the gold for you. It is + the least and probably the last that I can do for you. + + If, when you read this you have any desires to know who you + really are, I will leave you the following information: + + Your mother, a wonderful woman, was Barbara Parker of + Litchfield, Connecticut, daughter of Judge Arnold Parker of + Litchfield, now deceased. I am Donald Mullen, the eldest of + three brothers; Fay Mullen is the next of age and Patrick + Mullen, the gunsmith of Maiden Lane, New York, is the youngest. + We were born in Byron Bridge, Ireland, and we three came to this + country after our parents died. You come of an honest, + worthwhile people on my side, and of the best American blood on + your mother’s, Donald, and I ask only that you live an honest, + honorable life and have faith in your country and your God, and + He will be with you to the end. + + Good-bye, boy. + + Lovingly, + YOUR FATHER. + +I read the letter aloud but I confess that my voice broke toward the end +and I choked up until reading was difficult. + +For some time after I finished, we three sat in silence. The thoughts +and mental pictures of that broken man parting with his baby son +seventeen years before made me most unhappy. + +Dad broke the silence. + +“Well, now you are acquainted with the whole situation, what do you +think?” + +“I scarcely know what to think,” said I. “It does not appear natural for +a man to abandon his own son in the manner he did. It seems heartless +and cruel. I cannot understand it; yet I wish I could see my poor +father. I wonder if he is still alive. Certainly with the information at +hand it should not be impossible for me to trace him or some relatives +of my mother. Don’t you think so?” + +“That is what I thought, Don, for when you were three years old I began +to wonder about your father’s whereabouts. I wanted to meet him and +perhaps help him if I could. Do not think that your poor father was +cruel, for it is evident that the man was suffering from a nervous +breakdown and consequently more or less irresponsible; I think he acted +wonderfully well under the circumstances. In order to help him I began a +search and for ten years I have had detectives and private individuals +following up every possible lead. Yet, with all my efforts, the search +has amounted to nothing. Your father’s trail ended at a Spokane +outfitting store. I could not locate anyone nearer to you than an old +maiden great-aunt of your mother’s although I have had every clue +investigated. + +“The only relative of your father’s that I could get any information +about was his youngest brother, Patrick Mullen, your uncle and a famous +gunsmith of Maiden Lane, New York. He is dead now but his reputation for +making an exceptionally fine hand-forged gun lives on even to-day. +Patrick Mullen died just before I began my search for your father, but +in digging around for facts about him, I learned that he had made a +limited number of very fine guns, on each of which he had stamped his +full name, ‘Patrick Mullen.’ Other guns of an inferior quality that he +made bore the simple stamp of ‘P. Mullen.’ The old man was very proud of +each ‘Patrick Mullen’ that he turned out and like the true artist that +he was he kept track of each one, sold them only to men he knew and when +the owner died he bought the gun back himself so that he always knew its +whereabouts. + +“In that way all of the 101 ‘Patrick Mullen’s’ he made came back to him, +save one. There is one of the complete number still missing and no one +seems to know where it is. This is more remarkable because the missing +gun is a flint-lock rifle of the style of seventy years ago. That gun +has always struck me as being a valuable clue in our search, because it +is the only rifle ever made by the old gunsmith and I have a feeling +that that missing ‘Patrick Mullen’ may have been given to your father by +the brother, and that may account for the fact that among the papers of +Patrick Mullen there is no record of its whereabouts; this is in a +measure confirmed by the report that the man outfitting at Spokane had a +long old-fashioned rifle, and collectors say there used to be an expert +in antique arms by the name of Mullen.” + +The suggestion made me tremendously excited. Beyond a doubt in my mind +that missing “Patrick Mullen” was my father’s gun. I imagined him +parting with everything else save the unique gun his famous brother had +made for him. Why he should wish for a flint-lock rifle was an +unanswerable question, but someone wanted that sort of a gun or it would +not have been made, and my father’s letters showed him to be a man of +sentiment, and impractical, just the sort of fellow to use a flint-lock +when he might just as well have had a modern breech-loading high-power +rifle. + +“I believe you’ve hit it, dad. Hot dog!” I exclaimed. “Bet a cookie that +that gun does belong to my father and if we can find it we will probably +find him too—would not that be bully?” + +“I feel the same way too, Don. But finding that missing gun will be as +difficult as finding your father. I have searched the country over for +it and made a wonderful collection of flint-lock guns, as you see by +looking at yonder gun-rack; I have had dozens of arms collectors and +detectives looking for guns of that description, but no Patrick Mullen +rifle has turned up anywhere. There have, of course, been many false +clues and many queer rifles offered to me and I have put a great many +thousands of dollars into the search, and my collection of flint-locks +is the best in the land, Don. But so far nothing but failures seem to +have rewarded my search—no, I’m wrong, there is one man out west—out +in the little jerk-water town of Grave Stone, who insists that there is +a wild man living in a lonely, almost inaccessible valley in the +mountains, who shoots a gun which looks like the one for which I am +searching. For a number of years this man of mystery, it seems, has been +appearing and reappearing, according to Big Pete Darlinkel, my +informant, but even Pete has never got in personal touch with this +eccentric hermit. Neither have several detectives I have sent out there +for that purpose. The detectives seem to be all right in towns or cities +and are undoubtedly brave men, but something out there appears to +frighten them and they lose interest the moment they cut the trail of +the wild hunter. I begin to think this wild man is a myth, too. +Strange, though, that just a week ago I received another letter from +Pete Darlinkel. Wait, I’ll find it.” + +He returned from the library presently with a letter which he opened and +passed over to me. It read: + + DEAR MR. CRAWFORD:— + + Maybe you hain’t interested no more but thet tha’ ole Dopped + ganger, the Wild Hunter, the spooky old critter, has been seen + agin. i wuz on the top of the painted Butte yesterday squinten + one i in the valley look’n for elk and look’n up with tother i + for Big horn on the mountain, when i staged the old duffer + snoop’en along in one of the parks an’ he had the same long hair + and long rifle he uster have. He sure is a ghost or else he’s a + nut or an old timer gone locoed. He sends the chills down my + backbone every time i sots my eyes on him. + + Your obedients sarvent, + BIG PETE. + +There was something about that crude letter that stirred me deeply. + +Could this strange freak that Big Pete saw from the top of the painted +Butte possess that Patrick Mullen rifle? If so did he know anything +about the whereabouts of my father? It is not uncommon for people +suffering from a mental breakdown to flee to the country or wilderness +and there live the life of a recluse, and from my father’s last letter +it was evident that he had had a nervous breakdown from anxiety and +brooding over the loss of my mother, to whom he evidently was devotedly +attached. It might, therefore, be possible that this strange, wild man +himself was my father, an unpleasant possibility. At any rate, I felt +that I could not rest, at least until I discovered to a certainty the +name of the maker of the long rifle said to be carried by the wild +hunter and I told dad just how I felt about it. + +“I knew you would feel that way, son,” said he. “I have often wanted to +go west for the very same purpose and I knew that when I told you +everything you would want to go too. I intended to lay all the facts +before you when you were twenty-one but now that Blink Broosmore has +taken it upon himself to inform you and his truck-driving friends of the +mystery surrounding your real parentage, I guess it is best you know all +there is to be known about the situation. The rest I’ll leave to you. In +fact, it would please me a great deal if you would run down this last +vague clue to see if your father really is still alive. Go, Donald, and +God bless you, and take that bag of gold with you, unopened, for it may +now stand your father in good stead, and if you do find him, bring him +here and I promise you he will never want for a thing, nor will you, my +son, for you are still my boy whatever your real parentage may be.” + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The stage pulled up in front of a typical western saloon, post office +and general store. There was the usual crowd of prospectors, gamblers, +cow punchers and trappers assembled to meet the incoming stage. When I +scrambled off the top of the old-fashioned coach, and before I had time +to shake the alkali dust from my clothes, or moisten my dry and cracked +lips, a typical western bully approached me roaring the verses of a song +with which he evidently intended to terrify me, + + “He blowed into Lanigan swinging a gun + A new one, + A blue one, + A colt’s forty-one, + An’ swearing + Declaring + Red Rivers ’ud run + Down Alkali Valley, + An’ oceans of gore + ’ud wash sudden death + On the sage brush shore, + An’ he shot a big hole—” + +He got no further with the song. Another man stepped out from the crowd, +a very tall, powerful man who would have attracted attention in any garb +in any place by his distinguished appearance, who with little ceremony +rudely brushed the roughneck to one side, and my instinct told me the +handsome stranger could be no other than Big Pete Darlinkel. + +My! my! what a man he was! Looked as if he just stepped out of one of +Fred Remington’s pictures, or Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, or slipped +from between the leaves of a volume of Captain Mayne Reid’s “Scalp +Hunters”—Big Pete was evidently a hold-over from another age. He would +have fitted perfectly and with nicety in a picture of Davy Crockett’s +men down in old Texas. He seemed, however, perfectly at home in this +border town, and I noted that the most hard-boiled and toughest men in +the crowd treated him with marked respect and deference. + +Pete was a wilderness fop and a dandy, and evidently was as careful of +his clothes as a West Point cadet. In dress he affected the +old-fashioned picturesque garb of the mountains. His appearance filled +me with wonder and admiration; he stood six feet two or three inches in +his moccasins, straight as an arrow and lithe as a cat. + +His costume consisted of a tunic of dressed deer skin, smoked to the +softness of the finest flannels. He wore it belted in at the waist, but +open at the breast and throat where it fell back like a sailor’s collar +into a short cape covering the shoulders. Underneath was the undershirt +of dressed fawn skin; his leggins and moccasins were of the same +material as his hunting shirt, and on his head he wore a fox skin cap; +the fox’s head adorned with glass eyes ornamented the front and the tail +hung like a drooping plume over the left shoulder. + +Big Pete Darlinkel was a blonde, and his golden hair hung in sunny curls +upon his massive shoulders; a light mustache, soft yellow beard, with a +pair of the deepest, clearest, most innocent baby-like blue eyes, all +made a face such as an angel might have after years of exposure to sun +and wind. + +Not only are Big Pete’s revolvers gold mounted, but the shaft of his +keen-edged knife is rich with figures, rings, and stars filed from gold +coins and set in the horn. The very stock of his long, single-barreled +rifle is inlaid like an Arab’s gun, and, as for his buckskin hunting +suit, it is a mass of embroidery and colored quills from his beaded +moccasins to the fringed cape of his shirt. + +Big Pete was a dandy, fond of color, fond of display; yet in spite of +all this he wore absolutely nothing for decoration alone, but every +article of use about his person was ornamented to an oriental degree. +Gaudy and rich as his costume was when viewed in detail, as a whole it +harmonized not only with Pete, his hair, his complexion, his weapons, +but with whatever natural objects surrounded him. + +Big Pete also seemed to know me instinctively and approached with a +graceful and swinging step; holding out his hand he greeted me in a low, +soft, well-modulated voice with, “Howdy, kid; yes, I’m Big Pete and +allow you are the tenderfoot dude from New York what wants to shoot big +game, an’ reckon you’d like to meet the wild mountain man? Well, he’s a +queer one, I tell you. He’s got us all buffaloed out this-a-way, most of +us don’t care to meet him close up and we give him wide range when we +cut his trail.” + +That was Big Pete’s greeting. Of course, I had not told him of my real +interest in this mysterious man of the mountains, only suggesting that I +would like to do some big game shooting and see the spooky hunter. + +“Well,” I answered, “I would like to get a record elk head to take home +to dad. As for the mountain wildman, I wish you’d tell me more about +him, he is awfully interesting.” + +“Tell you more? Well, sho, I reckon I can tell you more than most people +round these parts for he makes my game park his stampin’ grounds every +onct in a while, an’ let me tell you he hunts some peculiar, he do, he’s +half man and half wolf—but shucks, I won’t spoil the show, you will see +how he hunts for yourself if you stay here long. Glory be, but he’s got +me some bashful and shy. But mosey along and I’ll hist yore stuff on +this here cayuse while you let them tha’ dogs out of their chicken coop +boxes. You can cache your dude duds in the Emporium general store over +yonder next to Squinty Quinn’s saloon, an’ then we’re off for the hills. +I’ll yarn about this Wild Hunter while we hit the trail.” + +An hour spent in Grave Stone gave me an opportunity to wash myself and +change my clothes for some that would be more substantial for +out-of-door wear, start several letters east telling of my safe arrival, +buy the things I had overlooked, store my surplus clothes with the +postmaster at the general store, and repack my kit for pony travel. +Then, after watching Big Pete skilfully throw the diamond hitch, we were +off for the hills and our first camp. I hoped that I was on my way to +find my real father and unravel the mystery that surrounded my strange +babyhood. But I little guessed what adventures I was to have or the +strange things I was to see before my quest was ended. + +We traveled fast all the remaining portion of the afternoon and toward +evening we made camp and for the first time in my life I slept under the +sky. At the end of the fifth day we reached the secret and narrow +opening of a big valley or “park” in the midst of a wild tumble of +mountains. Big Pete said we would pitch our tent in the park. + +“Tha’s plenty of signs ’round too an’ if we loosen t’ dogs p’raps we kin +stir up a mountain lion or collar some fresh meat t’ start camp with,” +said he as he slid off his horse and took the leashes off the dogs. + +It took us but a short time to arrange our camp, then Big Pete followed +by the frisking dogs slipped silently into the woods. He was gone +scarcely a quarter of an hour when he reappeared again without the dogs, +motioned for me to get my gun and follow him. + +“Tha’s elk signs all bout,” he said, “an’ the muts broke away on a fresh +trail. Now you an’ me’ll climb through that draw yonder and hide out on +the runway till they drive an elk in gun shot. Come along.” + +I followed eagerly and presently we had climbed through a thickly grown +poplar grove and found a suitable hiding place among the small poplars. +We had the wind right and a clear view of most of the open park. Big +Pete stooped down and motioned for me to do likewise. + +I quietly crouched beside him and waited—waited until my legs were +cramped, waited until the dampness from the moss struck through the +heavy soles of my tenderfoot shoes and chilled my feet; waited until my +arm was so numb that it felt like a piece of lead—then, in spite of the +danger of incurring Big Pete’s displeasure and in spite of my dread of +being thought a dude tenderfoot, I changed my position, rubbed life into +my arm and assumed an easier pose. + +In front of us was a small lake, deep, dark and unruffled. All around +the edge was a natural wharf formed from the gigantic trunks of trees +which had fallen for ages into the lake and been washed by wind and +waves and forced by winter ice into such regular order and position +along the shore that their arrangement looked like the work of men. Back +of this wharf and all about was the wilderness of silent wood; a +wilderness enclosed by a wall of mountains, whose lofty heads were +uplifted far above the soft white clouds that floated in the blue sky +overhead and were mirrored in the lake below. An eagle, on apparently +immovable wings, soared over the lake in spiral course. As I watched the +bird its wings seemed suddenly endowed with life. At the same instant my +guide gave a low grunt of warning. + +“What is it?” I asked in a whisper, for there was a strange expression +in my companion’s eyes. + +“It’s—it’s him, so help me!—Keep yer ears open and yer meat-trap +shut!” growled Pete. + +I did so. The trained ear of the hunter had detected the sound of +crackling twigs and swishing branches made by some animals in rapid +motion. + +“Ah!” I exclaimed, “the dogs. You startled me; I thought it was +Indians.” + +“I wish it was nothing wuss,” muttered my guide, as he examined his +weapons with a critical eye and loosened the cartridges for his +revolvers in his belt to make sure that they would be easy to pluck out. + +“Those hain’t our dogs, mister,” he remarked after he had examined his +whole arsenal. + +As I again fixed my attention on the noise, in place of the resonant +voice of the hounds, I heard nothing but the crackling of branches, with +an occasional half-suppressed wolf-like yelp. + +Big Pete turned pale and muttered, “It’s them for sartin; it’s them +agin! And I hain’t been drinkin’, nuther!” + +Big Pete Darlinkel remained crouching in exactly the same pose he had +first assumed, but his face looked sallow and worn. I marveled. Was this +big westerner really awed by the situation we were facing? What disaster +impended? + +My guide’s eyes were fixed upon an opening in the woods and I knew that +something would soon bound from that spot. I could hear the crashing of +brush and half-suppressed wolf-like yelps, followed by a pause, then a +rushing noise, and out leaped as beautiful a bull elk as I had ever +seen—in fact the first I had ever seen at close range in his native +wilderness. I had only time to take note of his muscular neck, clean cut +limbs, his grand branching antlers, and—not my dogs but a pack of +_immense black wolves_ at his heels before I instinctively brought my +gun to my shoulder. But before I could draw a bead Big Pete struck it, +knocking the muzzle up. + +“Hist!” he exclaimed, pointing to the bird. + +The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt and skilfully avoiding +the branching antlers, struck the bull, driving one talon into the neck +and the other into the back, flapping its huge wings as it tore with its +beak at the body of the elk like a trained “_bear coote_.” + +I was thunderstruck. The evident partnership of the wolves and bird +needed explanation and it was not long in coming. A shrill whistle +pierced the air, the black wolves immediately ceased to worry the elk, +the eagle soared overhead, and for an instant the elk stood confused, +then leaped high in the air and fell dead. The next moment I heard the +crack of a rifle and saw a puff of blue smoke across the lake. + +“That’s no ghost,” I said, when partly recovered from my astonishment. + +“Wait,” said Pete laconically. + +[Illustration: The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt ... and +struck the bull] + +Not long afterward there was a movement among the wolves and, +noiselessly as a panther the figure of a man lithe and youthful in every +movement slipped to the side of the dead elk. He made no noise, uttered +no word to the fierce black animals that sat with their red tongues +hanging from their panting jaws, but without a moment’s hesitation +whipped out a knife and with a dexterity and skill that brought the +color to Big Pete’s face, proceeded to take the coat off the wapiti, +while the great eagle perched upon the branching antlers. The skin was +removed and with equal dexterity all the best parts of the meat were +skilfully detached and packed in the green hide, after which, removing a +large slice of red flesh, the strange hunter held up one finger. One of +the wolves gravely walked up to him, received the morsel, gulped it down +and retired. Each in turn was fed, then the great bird flopped on his +shoulder and was fed from his hand, and before I could realize what had +happened the man, the wolves and the eagle had disappeared, leaving +nothing but the dismembered carcass of the elk to remind us of the +strange episode. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +To say that the whole spectacle that I had just witnessed startled me +would be stating it mildly indeed. The strange appearance of this big, +powerful, smooth shaven man in a buckskin hunting costume with a retinue +of black wolves and a trained eagle, the mysterious manner of his +hunting and his coming and going, aroused in me great interest and +curiosity and I could realize the effect it evidently had upon Big +Pete’s superstitious mind in spite of the fact that the big fellow was +accustomed to facing almost any sort of danger. As for me, I could not +myself prevent the creeping chills from running down my spine whenever I +thought of the wild man. + +Could it be possible that this strange, half-wild man of the mountains, +this killer, this master of a wolf pack, could be in any way connected +with my father? I wondered, and as I wondered I found that a vague fear +of this mad man who despite his reputed age seemed as youthful and as +agile as a man in his thirties, was gripping me. Perhaps the strangeness +of the wilderness park added to my awe, for certainly one could expect +almost anything supernatural to happen in the twilight of the forest of +giant trees, whose interlacing branches overhead shut out the light of +heaven. + +Recovering somewhat from my astonishment and surprise, I realized that +what I had witnessed, strange though it appeared, was not a supernatural +occurrence. I knew that it was a real gun I had heard, real smoke I had +seen, real man, real bird, real elk, and real wolves. + +“But, Pete,” I exclaimed, as a sudden thought struck me, “what’s become +of our dogs?” + +“Better ask them black fiends up the mountains. I reckon you won’t see +them tha’ hounds of yours agin.” + +And I never did, but having hunted the wolf with cowboys and having been +a witness to their extraordinary biting power, I knew the fate that must +necessarily befall a couple of ordinary hounds when overtaken by half a +dozen full-grown wolves. On such occasions we do not spend much time in +grief over a loss of any kind, “it taint according to mountain law,” +Pete would say. + +“Reckon we had better swipe some of that elk before the coyotes get at +it,” growled Pete. “The wild mountainman knows the good parts, but an +elk is an elk, and one wild man, even if he is a giant, can’t carry off +all the good meat, not by a long shot.” + +“He may come back,” I suggested. + +“Not he,” said Pete. “He’s too stuck up for that. When he wants more, +them tha’ black demons and that voodoo bird of his’n will get ’em for +him, and he’s a hanging his long legs off’ner a rock some whar smoking a +long cigar.” + +“Dod rot him,” growled Pete. “Why couldn’t he leave a piece of hide to +carry the meat in and the stomach to cook it in? That’s the fust time I +ever stayed long ’nough to see him collar his meat, though they say he +do eat the game raw, but I reckon that’s a lie, leastwise he didn’t do’t +this time.” + +With a good square meal of the locoed hunter’s elk under our belts and a +rousing camp fire before which to toast our shins, both the big +westerner and I felt a little more natural and comfortable, but our +conversation turned again to this wild hunter of the mountains. + +I could see that the mysterious old man with his wolf pack and eagle +aroused almost every possible form of superstition in Big Pete and I +confess that I was not free from some of it myself. The guide was +certain that the man was either a ghost or a reincarnated devil, and he +displayed no uncertain signs of awe. + +“I tell you,” said Pete, “he’s a devil. He’s over a hundred years old, +for my dad says he seed him, an’ an Injun before dad’s time told him +about him. They are all skeered t’ death o’ him. An’ I don’t blame ’em. +He’s a shore enough hant and them tha’ houn’s o’ his’n is devils in wolf +skins. Jumping Gehoosaphats, ef they shed ever cut my trail I reckon I’d +just lay right down an’ die,” and Big Pete actually shuddered at the +possibility. + +“Why, young feller,” he went on, “that ol’ man shoots gold bullets out +o’ a real Patrick Mullen gun.” + +“A Mullen gun, Pete?” I cried, “how do you know, man; speak for goodness +sake!” + +“I don’t know it’s a Patrick Mullen and guess it tain’t one ’cause a +Patrick Mullen rifle would cost a thousand or more. But the old Injun, +Beaver Tail, says, someone told his father and his father told him that +et is a Patrick Mullen gun an’ is a special make inlaid with gold and +silver, an’ all ornamented up, an’ built for an ol’ muzzle-loadin’ +flint-lock. Now Mullen never made no flint-lock rifles that I hear’n +tell of, his specialty be shotguns an’ if he made this rifle I’m +ganderplucked if I cud tell how this spook got it.” + +“Unless the wild Hunter might be a relative of old Patrick Mullen,” I +said, thinking aloud, and gasping at the thought, for the description of +the rifle somehow impressed me again with the possibility that this wild +man of the mountains might himself be Donald Mullen, and _my own +father!_ + +“Why do you say that, kid?” asked Big Pete with a queer look in his +eyes. + +“Oh, I don’t know, I was just wondering to myself. But what makes you +think he’s a supernatural being, and, Pete, does this wild loony hunter +look at all like me?” + +“Super what? Say when did you swallow a dictionary?—Oh, you mean what +makes me think he’s a devil. No, he don’t favor you none,” he added with +a grin, “he’s a _handsome_ devil, although he’s done terrified every +white man, an’ Injun, in these parts half t’ death, so most of ’ems +afeared to come back here at all. Men have gone in the park jest to get +this wild man’s scalp, but they’ve done come back scared yaller an’ they +ain’t opened their trap much about him since nuther. They do say he +spits fire an’ chaws his meat offen the bone an’ then cracks the bones +like a dog an’ swallers it all. They do say, too, that he roars like +forty devils with their tails cut off when he gits mad an’ some say as +when he wants t’ git som wha’ in a hurry he jest grabs aholt o’ the feet +o’ tha’ there thunder bird and she flies off with him and draps him +anywha’ he asks her to—Nope, I hain’t seen none of these things myself +but others say they has, an’ believe me, I’m plumb cautious when +travelin’ these parts alone. Howsomever, he hain’t yet skeered me ’nough +to make my ha’r come out by the roots,” said Pete with a yawn. “There, +kick that back log over so’s the fire can lick at t’other side; now +let’s turn in.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Big Pete and I spent several weeks in our charming little camp at the +lower end of the park, for my guide decided that despite the recent +presence of the wild hunter, here would be a good place to get a shot at +some black-tail deer. In fact we saw signs of those animals all about +and my guide was only looking for fresh indication to start out on our +last hunt before we made our way deeper into the wilderness. + +On the third day of our stay I was returning to camp with my shotgun +over my shoulder and a brace of sage grouse in my hand, when I came upon +Big Pete in a swail about a mile from camp. He was bending low and +examining fresh signs when he saw me. + +“Howdy, kid, here’s some doin’s. Shall we foller him?” + +“Of course, Pete; what are we here for, the mountain air?” I answered. + +“No,” answered Pete, in his deep, low voice, “we’re here for game,” and +off he started, but slowly and with great caution. I felt impatient, but +restrained myself, saying nothing and continued to follow my big guide +who now moved with the most painstaking care. Not a twig broke beneath +his moccasins as with panther-like step and crouching form he led me +through a lot of young trees over a rocky place until we struck a small +spring with a soft muddy margin. Here Pete came to a sudden halt. I +asked him why he did not go on, and he pointed to a ledge of rock that +ran up the mountain side diagonally with a flat, natural roadbed on top, +graded like a stage road but unlike a traveled road, ending in a bunch +of underwood and brush about a hundred yards ahead. + +Above the ledge of the rocks was a steep declivity of loose shale +sprinkled over with large and small boulders of radically different +formations, and in no manner resembling the friable, uncertain bed upon +which they rested. + +These boulders undoubtedly showed the result of the grinding and +polishing of an ancient, slow-moving glacier, but some other force had +deposited them in the present position. + +“He’s in tha’,” whispered Pete. + +“Who, the wild mountain man?” I asked. + +“No,” answered my guide, “th’ grizzly.” + +“The what?” I almost shouted. + +“Th’ grizzly,” answered Pete; “what do you think we’ve been following?” + +“Black-tailed deer,” I said softly, with my eyes glued on the thicket. + +“Well, tenderfoot, here’s the trail of that tha’ _deer_, and he hain’t +been gone by here mor’n nor a week ago, nuther.” + +I looked and there in the soft mud was the print of a foot, a +human-looking foot, but for the evenness in the length of the toes and +the sharpness and length of the toe nails. Yes, there was another +difference, and that was the size. It was the footprint of a savage +Hercules, the track of an enormous grizzly bear, and the soft mud that +had dripped from the big foot was still undried on the leaves and grass +when Pete pointed it out to me. + +“Well, Pete, don’t forget your promise that I am to have first shot at +all big game,” I whispered with my best effort at coolness, but my heart +was thumping against my ribs at a terrific rate. + +“But—why, bless you old man!” I whispered excitedly as I looked at my +gun, “I am armed only with a shotgun.” + +“Tha’s all right,” replied the big trapper complacently; then, with a +quick motion, he whipped out his keen-edged knife and snatching one of +my cartridges he severed the shell neatly between the two wads which +separated the powder and shot; that is, a wad in each piece of the +cartridge was exposed by the cut. + +Guided by the faint longitudinal seam where the edges of the colored +paper join on the shell, Big Pete carefully fitted the two parts of the +cartridge together exactly as they were before being cut apart. Breaking +my gun, he slipped the mutilated ammunition into the unchoked barrel. + +“Tha’,” he grunted, “tha’s better than a bullet at short range, an’ll +tar a hole in old Ephraim big enough to put your arm through.” + +He cut two more in the same manner, saying, “Be darned kerful not to get +excited and put them in your choke barl, or tha’ may be trouble.” + +Hunting a grizzly with a shotgun and bird shot was not my idea of safe +sport, but I was too much of a moral coward to acknowledge to Pete that +I was frightened. Pete examined his gun, ran his finger over the +cartridges in his belt, and went through all the familiar motions which +to him were unconscious but always foretold danger ahead. + +“You drap on your prayer hinges behind that tha’ nigger head,” said +Pete, “and you will have a dead shot at the brute, an’ I’ll go up and +roll a stone down the mountain side and follow it as fast as I kin, so +as to be ready to help you if you need it; but you ought to drap him at +first shot at short range. Yer must drap him, yer must or I allow tha’ll +be a right smart of a scrap here, and don’t yer forget it!” + +“This is no Christmas turkey shooting, young feller, so look sharp,” and +with a noiseless tread Pete vanished in the wood, while I with beating +heart and bulging eyes watched the thicket at the end of the ledge. I +had not long to wait before I heard a blood-curdling yell and then +crash! crash! crash! came a big boulder tearing down the mountain side. +It reached a point just over the thicket, struck a small pine tree, +broke the tree and leaped high into the air, then crashed into the +middle of the brush. + +Following with giant leaps came Big Pete Darlinkel down the rocky +declivity, but I only looked that way for one instant, then my eyes were +again fixed on the thicket, and in my excitement I arose to a standing +position. There was but a momentary silence after the fall of the +boulder before I heard the rustling of sticks and leaves, saw the top of +the bushes sway as some heavy body moved beneath, then there appeared a +head, and what a head it was! Bigger than all outdoors! I aimed my gun, +but my body swayed and the end of my shotgun described a large circle in +the air. I knew that my position was serious, but my nerves played me +false. + +I had never before faced a grizzly. I heard Big Pete’s voice calling to +me to drop behind the rock, but I only stood there with a dogged +stupidity, trying to aim my gun at a mark which seemed to me as big +almost as a barn-door. + +I heard Pete give a sudden cry then there was a rattle of stones and +dirt on the ledge in front of the mountain of brownish hair that was +advancing in sort of side leaps or bounds like a big ball. + +The bear came to a sudden stop, and to my horror I saw the form of my +friend shoot over the edge of the overhanging rock right in the path of +the grizzly. It all flashed through my mind in a moment. Pete in his +haste to reach me had lost control of himself and slid with the rolling +stones and dirt over the mountain side, a fall of at least twenty-five +feet! + +Instantly my nerve returned and I rushed madly up the incline to rescue +my companion. I bounded between the branches of some stout saplings, +they parted as my body struck them but sprung together again before my +leg had cleared the V-shaped opening. + +My foot was imprisoned and I fell with a heavy thud on my face. For an +instant I was dazed, but even in my dazed state I was fully conscious of +Pete’s impending peril, and I kicked and struggled blindly to free +myself. My gun had been flung from my hand in my fall and was out of my +reach. Then to my horror I heard the howl the wolf gives when game is in +sight, and even half blind as I was I saw dark, dog-like forms sweep by +me; I heard the scream of an eagle; I heard a snarling and yelping, the +sounds of a struggle—I ceased to kick, wiped the blood from my eyes and +looked ahead. + +There lay Big Pete Darlinkel, dead or unconscious, and within ten feet +of him stood the giant bear surrounded by a vicious pack of gaunt +red-mouthed wolves. The bear made a rush and a shadow passed over the +ground; I heard the sound of a large body rushing swiftly through the +air, and an immense eagle struck the bear like a thunderbolt; at the +same instant the wolves attacked him from all sides; then there was a +whistle keen and clear; the wolves retreated; the bird again soared +aloft; the bear made several passes in the air in search of the bird, +fell forward again on all fours, rose on its hind legs and killed a wolf +with one sweep of its great paw. + +The bear now made a dash at the giant leader of the pack, only to fall +forward, dead, with its ugly nose across Big Pete’s chest. + +Then I remembered hearing the crack of a rifle, and knew that the Wild +Mountain Man had saved our lives. I tried to rise but found my ankle so +badly sprained that I could not stand on it. + +Suddenly a low voice with a hint of an Irish accent said, “Sit down, +stranger, while I look to your mate,” and I saw the tall lithe figure of +a man clothed in buckskin bending over Pete. + +“Only stunned, friend,” said he, and I heard no more. The blow on my +head, combined with the pain from my ankle was too much for me, and now +that the danger was over it was a good time to faint, and I took +advantage of it. + +How long I remained unconscious I do not know, but when my eyes opened +again it was night; through the interlacing boughs overhead the stars +were shining brightly, my head was neatly bandaged and so was my foot +and ankle. I could hear our horses cropping grass near by. I raised my +head and there lay Pete; he was alive I knew by his snores that issued +from his nose, and we were in our own camp; but—what are those animals +by our camp fire? Wolves! gaunt, shaggy wolves! + +I hastily arose to a sitting posture, but my alarm subsided when in the +dim light of the fire I could trace the outline of another man’s figure, +and on a stick close to the stranger’s head roosted a giant bird. + +Could it be that this wild man of the mountain—possibly my own +father—was camping with us? + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +“Moseyed, by gum! I’ll be tarnally tarnashuned if that terri-fa-ca-cious +spook hain’t pulled out!” was the exclamation that awakened me the +morning after our adventure with the bear. + +Lazily opening my eyes I gazed a moment at the sun just peeping over the +mountain, then closed them again; but when I attempted to change my +position a sharp pain in my ankle thoroughly awakened me. Still I lay +quiet because it was some time before I could collect my scattered +senses and separate in my mind the real incident and the dream +phantasms. + +The pain in my ankle, the swelled and irritated condition of my nose +plainly proved to me that there was no dream about my injuries, but I +discovered that my head and leg were neatly bandaged with strips of fine +linen. I sat for a while busily collecting the incidents of the past +twenty-four hours, arranging them in my mind in their proper order and +place. I cut out the dream portion from the realities with very little +trouble until I reached the part where I had awakened in the night and +had seen the wolves, the eagle and the Wild Hunter. I could not be sure +whether that was a dream or reality. Had I seen this strange old man +with his eagle and his wolf pack beside our camp fire or had I dreamed +it? Had this hobgoblin man, who might be my own father, rescued me from +death at the claws of the grizzly and bound my wounds for me, or was +that but a dream too? Had not Big Pete saved me perhaps and cared for me +afterward? + +“Pete, old fellow,” I said presently, rising to my elbow, “who brought +me to camp? Who killed that bear? Who saved our lives?” + +“The Wild Hunter,” replied Pete gravely. “He bathed my head with some +sort of good smelling stuff and, though I am as heavy as a dead +buffaler, toted me to camp; he ’lowed that I was all sort of shuk up and +a little hazy; he fixed my blanket, then he fotched you in on his +shoulders just as if you was a dead antelope, fixed you up with bandages +torn from handkerchiefs in your pocket, gave you a drink which you +didn’t seem to appreciate, but just swallowed like you were asleep, then +he laid you out. I had my eye peeled on him but he said nary a word, an’ +when we wuz both all comfortable he pulled out a long cigar, sot down by +the fire and was smoking tha’ with his bird and his wolves around him +when I went to sleep. + +“He cut his bullets out, as he allus does,” muttered Pete a little while +later. + +“Who cut what bullets?” I asked. + +“Whomsoever cud I mean but th’ Wild Hunter, and wha’s tha’ been any +bullets lately but in th’ b’ar?” queried my companion. + +“Yes, of course,” I admitted, “but why do you suppose he cut out the +bullets?” + +“Wal, I reckon tha’ might be right scarce and he haster be kinder +sparing with them. I calculate you’d like to have a hatful of them +balls, leastwise most folks would; cause the Wild Hunter don’t use no +common low-flung lead for his bullets, no-sir-ree bob-horsefly! Tain’t +good ’nuff for a high-cock-alorum like him—_he shoots balls of virgin +gold!_” + +But I was more interested in what had become of this strange man than in +the sort of projectiles rumor said that he used in his gun and so +dismissed the subject with a request for further information about our +rescuer. + +“This morning when I opened my peepers,” Pete continued, “I t’ought +maybe the Wild Hunter had only gone off on a tramp; but he’s done clared +out for good, and tuk his wolves and bird with him. I’m some glad he +took th’ wolves, I don’t sorter like the look of their mean eyes; they +do say that he is a wolf himself and the head of the pack.” + +“What’s that, Pete? Steady, old man, now let’s go slow.” + +“All right; tha’s wha’ I mean ter do. ’Cause it hain’t a varmint natur’ +to help men folks, and he done helped us, and no mistake, and left us +the bulk of the b’ar too,—only took the claws, teeth and tenderloin or +two for himself and pack; that is, if he be a wolf. But we will settle +that if your foot will let you walk a bit.” + +“How far?” I asked. + +“Only over yan way to the first piece of wet ground, and the trail leads +down to tha’ spring tha’, and tha’ is quite a right smart bit of muddy +swail beyont.” + +“All right, I’ll try it,” I exclaimed. But I could not touch my foot on +the ground, and it was not until my guide had made me a crutch of a +forked branch, padded with a piece of fur, that I was able to go limping +along after Big Pete. + +We followed the trail left by the Wild Hunter to the spring. The trail +after that was plain, even to my inexperienced eyes; and when we reached +the muddy spot the print of the moccasined feet and the dog-like tracks +of the wolves were distinctly visible. + +But look at Big Pete! + +As motionless as a statue, with a solemn face he stoops with a rigid +figure pointing to the trail! I hastened to his side and saw that the +moccasin prints ceased in the middle of an open, bare, muddy place and +beyond were nothing but the dog-like tracks of the wolves. + +I looked up and all around; there were no overhanging branches that a +man could swing himself upon, no stones that he could leap upon—nothing +but the straggling bunches of ferns; but here in this open spot the Wild +Hunter vanished. + +We walked back in silence, for I had nothing to say, and Pete did not +volunteer any further information. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +To have one’s nose all but broken, both eyes blackened and a twisted +ankle is a sad misfortune wherever it occurs, but when such a thing +happens to a fellow many weary miles from the nearest human habitation +and in a howling wilderness it might be considered anything but +pleasant. Yet, strange as it may appear, among the most pleasant and +precious memories I have stored away in my mind, only to be tapped upon +special occasions, is the memory of the glorious days spent nursing my +bruises and lolling around that far-away camp. Sometimes I listened to +the quaint yarns of my unique and interesting guide or idly watched the +changing colors and effects which the sun and the atmosphere produced on +the snow-capped mountains of Darlinkel’s Park. I made friends with our +little neighbors the rock-chuck, whose home was in the base of the cliff +back of the spring, and became intimate with the golden chipmunk and its +pretty little black and white cousin, the four-striped chipmunk, both of +which were common and remarkably tame about camp. + +Back of the camp in the dark shade of the evergreens there was a bark +mound composed entirely of the fragments of the conifera cones, which +Pete said was the squirrel’s dining room. This mound contained at least +four good cart-loads of fragments and all of it was the work of the +impudent little blunt-nosed red squirrels, which were plentiful in the +woods. + +How long it took these small rodents to heap such a mass of material +together I was unable to calculate, but the mound was as large as some +of the shell heaps made by the ancient oyster-eating men and left by +them along our coast from Florida to Maine. + +The numerous magpies seemed to be conscious of my admiration of their +beautiful piebald plumage and to take every opportunity to show off its +iridescent hues to the best advantage in the sunlight. + +Pete evidently thought I was a chap of very low taste, with a great lack +of discrimination in the choice of my friends among the forest folk, and +he could see no reason for my intimacy with “all th’ outlaws and most +rascally varmints of the park.” + +Truth compels me to admit that the pranks of some of my little friends +were often mischievous and annoying, but they were also humorous and +entertaining and I laughed when the “tallow-head” jay swooped down and +snatched a tid-bit from Pete’s plate just as he was about to eat it, and +when the irate trapper threw his plate at the camp robber it was a +charming sight to see a number of birds flutter down to feast upon the +scattered food. + +The loud-mouthed, self-asserting fly-catcher in the cottonwood tree +learned to know my whistle, and whenever I attempted to mimic him he +would send back a ringing answer. The charming little lazulii buntings +were tamer than the irritating dirty English sparrows at home. + +It was interesting to notice how quickly all our little wild neighbors +learned to know that the sound produced by banging on a tin plate meant +dough-god and other good things at our camp, and as they came rustling +among the grasses or fluttering from bush and trees they showed more +fear of each other than they did of Pete and me. + +When the myriads of bright stars would twinkle in the blue black sky or +the great round-faced moon climb over the mountain tops to see what was +doing in the park, the birds and chipmunks were quiet, but then the big +pack-rats, with squirrel-like tails, would troop out from their secret +caves and invade the camp. + +In the gray dawn, while sleeping in a tent, I often awakened to hear +something scamper up its steep side and then laughed to see the shadow +of a comical little body toboggan down the canvas. Our pocket-knives, +compasses and all other small objects were never safe unless securely +packed away out of reach of these nocturnal marauders. + +Our conversations around the camp fire evenings were highly interesting +too, for Big Pete was a fluent talker with a wealth of stories of the +Great West at his tongue’s end. Indeed, the story of his family and +their migration west was one that fascinated me. His father had been a +trapper in the old days; he had done his share of roaming the mountains, +prospecting and making his strikes, small and large, fighting Indians +and living the strenuous life of the border pioneer. He had found the +woman he afterward married unconscious under an overturned wagon of an +emigrant train that had been raided by the Indians, and after nursing +her back to health in his mining shack, had married her. With money he +had worked from the “diggin’s” he had acquired, by grants from the +government, the beautiful and expansive mountain park where he had +planned to develop a ranch. He never went very far with his project, +however, for a raiding party of Indians caught him alone in the +mountains and his wife found his body pinned to the ground with arrows. +The shock of his tragedy killed Big Pete’s mother soon after, and the +young Peter Darlinkel, then three years old, went to a nearby settlement +to be brought up by an uncle and a squaw aunt. Pete became prospector, +scout, trapper and hunter, using this beautiful park that became his as +a result of the passing of his father, as a private game preserve, so to +speak. That is, it was private except for the intrusion of the Wild +Hunter and his black wolf pack. + +In a fragmentary way Big Pete told me this story and other interesting +tales of this wild western country, but mostly our conversation turned +to this old man of the mountains who was such a mystery to everyone, +even to Big Pete, but who, despite the lugubrious reputation, had +proved a kindly gentleman and a good friend to me. + +There were no visible signs of a change in the weather which had been +clear for weeks, and the sky was otherwise clear blue save where the +white mares’ tails swept across the heavens. But when we sat down to +supper that evening I could hear the rumbling of distant thunder. I knew +it was thunder for, although the fall of avalanches makes the same +noise, avalanches choose the noon time to fall when the sun is hottest +and the snows softest. Soon I could see the heads of some dark clouds +peering at us over the mountains and before dark the clouds crept over +the mountain tops and overcast our sky. + +It rained all that night in a fitful manner and came to a stop about +four A. M. The wind went down and the air seemed to have lost its +vivacity and life; it was a dead atmosphere; we arose from our blankets +feeling tired and listless. + +While we were eating our breakfast dark clouds again suddenly obscured +the heavens and before we had finished the meal big drops of rain set +the camp fire spluttering and drove us to the shelter of our tent; then +it rained! Lord help us! the water came down in such torrents that on +account of the spray we could not see thirty feet; then came hailstones +as large as hen’s eggs. There was some lightning and thunder, but either +the splashing of the water drowned the rumbling or the electric fluid +was so far distant that the reports were not loud when they reached us. +Suddenly there was a ripping noise, followed by a sort of subdued roar +which stampeded our horses from their shelter under a projecting rock +and made the earth shudder. + +“Earthquake!” I exclaimed. + +“Wuss,” said Pete, “hit’s a landslide.” + +Instantly a thought went through my brain like a hot bullet and made me +shudder. + +“Pete,” I shouted. + +“I’m right hyer, tenderfut, you needn’t holler so loud,” he answered, +and calmly filled his pipe. + +I flung myself impulsively on my companion, grasped his big brawny +shoulders, and with my face close to his I whispered, “Pete, I believe +the slide occurred at the gate.” + +“Well, hit did sound that-a-way,” admitted Pete composedly. + +“Pete,” I continued, “that butte has caved in on our trail!” + +“Wull, tenderfut, we ain’t hurt, be we? Tha’s plenty of game here fur +the tak’n of it and plenty of water, as fine as ever spouted from old +Moses’ rock, right at hand. If the Mesa’s cut our trail we can live well +here for a hundred years and not have to chew wolf mutton neither. I +don’t reckon I can go to York with you just yet,” drawled my comrade in +a most provokingly imperturbable manner, as he slowly freed himself from +my grasp and made for the camp fire, which being to a great extent +sheltered by an overhanging rock, was still smouldering in spite of the +drenching rain. Raking the ashes until he found a red glowing coal, Pete +deftly picked it up and by juggling it from one hand to the other, he +conducted the live ember to his pipe-bowl, then he puffed away as calmly +as if there was nothing in this world to trouble him. + +“If the gate be shut,” he resumed, “it will keep out prospectors, tramps +and Injuns.” With that he went to smoking his red-willow[1] bark again. + + [Footnote 1: The trappers and Indians made Kil-i-ki-nic, or + Kinnikinick, by mixing tobacco with the inside bark of red + willow, which is the common name for the red osier of the + dogwood family. EDITOR.] + +But I could not view the situation so complacently, and when the rain +had ceased as suddenly as it began, with some difficulty I caught my +horse and made my way to the gate, to discover that my worst fears were +realized; a large section of the cliff had split off the Mesa and slid +down into the narrow gateway completely filling the space and leaving a +wall of over one hundred feet of sheer precipice for us to climb before +we could escape from our Eden-like prison. + +Again a wave of superstitious dread swept over me as I viewed the +tightly closed exit, a dread that perhaps after all there was more to +Big Pete’s superstitions about the Wild Hunter than I dared to admit, +else why should that cliff which had stood for thousands of years take +this opportunity to split off and choke up the ancient trail? + +The longer I questioned myself, the less was my ability to answer. I sat +on a stone and for some time was lost in thought. When at length I +looked up it was to see Big Pete with folded arms silently gazing at the +barricaded exit and the muddy pool of water extending for some distance +back of the gateway into the park. + +“Well, tenderfut, you was dead right in your judication. The gate air +shut sure ’nuff. Our horses ain’t likely to take the back trail and +leave us, that’s sartin.” + +“Oh, Pete,” I exclaimed, “how will we ever get out? Must we spend the +remainder of our lives here?” + +“It do look as if we’d stop hyer a right smart bit,” he admitted, “maybe +till this hyer holler between the mountains all fills with water agin +like it was onct before, I reckon. Don’t you think that we’d better get +busy and build a Noah’s Ark?” + +“Pete, you’d joke if the world came to an end. But seriously I think we +might move our camp back to the far end of your park.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +One day after we had selected our new camp, I took my rod along and +wandered into the wonderful forest of ancient trees. There I seated +myself on a log to think over my experience. Somehow my own trials and +ambitions seemed small, trivial and not worth while when I looked upon +those grand trees standing silently on guard as they were standing when +Columbus was busy smashing a hard-boiled egg to make it stand on end. +Yes, naturalists tell us some of these same trees were standing before +the New Testament was written and then as now their branches concealed +their lofty tops and formed a screen through which the powerful rays of +the noon-day sun are filtered, refined and subdued to a dreamy twilight +below, a twilight in which the soft green mosses and lace-like ferns +thrive into luxuriant growth. + +It was so still and quiet in that forest that the silence seemed to hurt +my ears and I found myself listening to see if I could not hear the deep +dark blue blossoms of the fringed gentians whispering scandals about the +flaming Indian paint brushes that flourished in the opening in the woods +where the sun’s ray could reach and warm the dark earth. As I listened I +could not help but speculate a great deal as to the possibilities of the +odd old man of this forest being in some way connected with my father’s +history, but the story of the wolf-man as given to me by my big +companion was so varied and so mixed with the superstitions of the +Indians and trappers who had come in contact with him, or had seen him +and his weird wolf pack roaming the mountains, that I could not in any +way take it as the basis for a solution of the problem. + +Indeed, the more Big Pete told me the less I believed that this strange +and probably mad man could be my father. In truth, the only real clue +or even faint reason I had for believing that he owned the missing +“Patrick Mullen” was because this gun at a distance seemed to correspond +with the description of the Mullen’s gun. It was a faint clue indeed and +sometimes seemed not worth investigation. Yet when I began to doubt the +possibility an unexplained impulse or force kept urging me on to believe +that if I but persisted and found an opportunity to examine this gun it +would prove to be the one I sought, and if I had a chance to talk to +this strange Wild Hunter much of the mystery that surrounded my own +babyhood would be cleared up, so I found myself earnestly longing for a +real interview with this mysterious creature. + +The more I thought of it the more I was inclined to believe that I was +on the right track, until at last convinced that this was so, I cried +aloud, “I have found him!” + +“Who! Who!” queried a startled owl, as it peered down at me from its +hiding place in the dense foliage of a cedar far above. + +“Never mind who, you old rascal,” I laughingly replied, and picking up +my fishing-rod I parted the underbrush to start on my way through the +wood for some trout, but suddenly halted when I found myself staring +into the face of a huge timber wolf. The beast’s lips were drawn back +displaying its gleaming fangs, its back hair was as erect as the cropped +mane of a pony, its mongolian eyes shone green through their narrow +slits and its whole attitude seemed to say, “Well, now that you have +found me, what do you propose to do?” + +Now, boys, do not make any mistake about me, I am not a hero and never +posed as one; in truth my timidity at times amounts to cowardice, a fact +which I usually keep to myself, but I never was afraid of wolves until I +so unexpectedly met this one. It is needless to say that I have no hair +on my back, it is as bare as that of any other fellow’s, nevertheless, +on this occasion I could distinctly feel my bristles rise from the nape +of my neck to the end of my spine, just the same as those on the +oblique-eyed, shaggy monster whose snapping teeth were so near my face. + +Everybody is familiar with the fact that people who have had limbs +amputated often complain of pains or itching in the missing members. My +missing back hair, the hair which my ancestors lost by the slow process +of evolution, the hair which grew on the back of the “missing link,” +stood on end at the sight of this wolf. However, this fear was but +momentary and when my courage returned I lifted my rod case in a +threatening manner, and the wolf slunk away as noiselessly as a shadow, +and like a shadow faded out of sight in the dim twilight of the ancient +forest. When I reached the open land beyond the forest another surprise +awaited me. + +Surely this is heaven, I thought as I waded knee-deep among the +beautiful flowers of the prairie, starting the sharp pin-tailed grouse, +prairie chickens and sage grouse from their retreats and sending the +meadow-larks skimming away over flowering billows. Reaching an +elevation where I could peer beyond the crests of one of the “ground +swells” which furrowed the sea of nodding blossoms, I saw through the +stems of the plants, a part of the prairie at first concealed from view, +and there appeared to be numerous irregular boulders of dark brown stone +scattered around among the vegetation, and the boulders were moving! + +Careful scrutiny, however, proved them to be not stones but live +buffalo. Big Pete had often told me that these animals lived unmolested +by him in the park; but when I realized that I was looking at between +three and four hundred real buffalo my heart gave a great jump of joy. I +tried to view them so as to take in their details, but the apparently +shapeless masses of dark reddish brown wool appeared to have none, +unless indeed the comical fur trousers with frayed bottoms on their +front legs might be called detail. + +Even the faces of the beasts were so concealed by masks of knotted wool +that at first I could distinguish neither eyes, noses, horns or ears; +but in spite of their ragged trousers and their masked faces, the bison +are sublime in their mighty strength and ponderous proportions, and as +this was the first wild herd I had ever seen and one of the very few, if +not the only one, then extant, I viewed them with the keenest interest. + +But the scattered bunches of antelope, which I now noticed were dotting +the plains around the buffalo, appealed to my love of the beautiful. +Knowing that in other localities these charming little creatures are +rapidly being slaughtered and steadily decreasing in numbers and that +all attempts to breed them in captivity have so far failed, they at once +absorbed my attention to the exclusion of their larger neighbors. + +When we moved our camp to the far side of the lake, Big Pete told me +that I could find plenty of trout streams beyond the timber belt, and he +also informed me that I could there see the walls of the park and +satisfy myself that there was but one trail leading into the preserve. + +I do not now recall the sort of walls that were pictured in my mind or +know what I really expected to see enclosing Darlinkel’s Park, but I do +know that when I suddenly emerged from the dark forests into the sunlit +prairie, the scene which greeted my vision was not the one painted by my +imagination. + +Before me stretched an open plain surrounded by mountains arising +abruptly from a bed of many colored flowers; they were the same ranges +whose snow-covered peaks formed a feature of the landscape at the lake +and at our first camp. + +Here, however, their appearance was different, as different as the dark +forest from the open sunlit prairie. The scene at first did not seem +real, it had a sort of a drop-curtain effect that was as familiar to me +as the row of footlights and gilded boxes, but never did I expect to see +those delicate tints, that blue atmosphere, the fresco colored rocks and +all the theatrical properties of a drop-curtain duplicated in nature, +yet here it was before me, not a detail wanting, even the impossible +mammoth bed of gaudy flowers at the foot of the mountain was here and +the numerous cascades had not been forgotten. Well, it does seem +wonderful to me that unknown theatrical daubers should know so much more +of nature than the public for whom they paint. + +But, nature is a bolder artist than even the daring scenic painters; in +front of me was a prairie of flowers, acres and acres of waving, +undulating masses of color; thousands of Arizona wyetha (wild +sunflowers) mingled with the brilliant tips of the fire-weed and clumps +of odorous and delicately colored horsemint. There were other flowers +unfamiliar to me and hundreds of big blossoms of what I took to be a +member of the primrose family. It was in this garden that the buffalo +and antelope were grazing. + +An old buck antelope saw me and I instantly dropped to the ground and +was concealed by the flowering vegetation. I wanted to see the home +life of these animals, but was disappointed because of the attention I +had attracted. When first discovered the does were browsing with heads +down and the kids were playing tag with one another, every once in a +while spreading the white hair on their rumps and then lowering the +“white flag” again, they apparently used it as a Morse signal system of +their own. But now they were all alert and facing me; the bucks had seen +something and that something had suddenly disappeared. This must be +investigated, so they circled round hesitatingly; the apparition might +be a foe but still they _must_ satisfy their curiosity and discover what +it was of which they had had a moment’s glimpse and thus they approached +nearer and ever nearer to my place of concealment. + +Soon, however, I became aware of the fact that the antelope had +unaccountably lost all thought of me and were deeply interested in +something else which from their actions I concluded to be recognized as +an enemy. It was now apparent that if Big Pete did not hunt the +prong-horns someone or something else _did_ hunt them. + +As a bunch broke away from the scattered groups and came in my +direction, making great leaps over the prairie, I detected the cause of +their panic in the form of a huge eagle which was keeping pace with and +flying over the fleeing prong-horns. + +The bird was not more than a dozen feet above the animals’ backs and in +vain did the poor creatures try to distance their pursuer. At length +they scattered, each one taking a course of his own. Then the bird did a +strange thing. It singled out the largest buck and persistently +following him, it came directly towards me and passed within ten feet of +my ambush, the broad wings of the antelope’s relentless foe casting a +dark shadow over the straining muscles of the beautiful animal’s back. I +was tempted to drive the bird away or shoot at it with my revolver, but +the thought that I had seen that bird before restrained me and the fact +that it pursued a strong, healthy buck instead of selecting a weaker and +more easy prey convinced me that this eagle had been trained to the hunt +and was not a wild[2] bird, for the immutable law that “labor follows +the line of least resistance” holds good with all wild creatures. It was +not long before I had to use my field glasses to follow the chase and +then I discovered that the poor prong-horn was showing signs of fatigue. +It had made a grave error in dashing up an incline and the eagle from +his position above knew that the time had come to strike and, like a +thunderbolt, it fell, striking its hooked talons in the graceful neck of +the terror-stricken antelope. + + [Footnote 2: The late Howard Eaton of Wolf, Wyoming, watched an + eagle hunt down a prong-horned buck.—EDITOR.] + +Hoping to get a nearer view of the last tragedy, I hastened towards the +spot and before I was aware of my position, found myself close to the +herd of buffalo. I then saw that these beasts being unaccustomed to +man, did not fear him, but on the contrary meant to show fight. As I +came to a sudden halt the old bulls began to paw the earth, throwing the +dirt up over their backs and bellowing with a low vibrating roar that +was terror-inspiring. Then they dropped to their knees, rolled on their +backs, got up, shook themselves, licked their noses, “rolled up their +tails” into stiff curves, put down their heads and came at me. The cows +with their hair standing on end like angry elks and bellowing loudly +were not behind their lords in aggressiveness and the comical little +calves came bouncing along after their dame. + +Was I frightened? That depends upon one’s definition of the word. I was +not panic-stricken, but to say that I was not _excited_ when I saw those +animated masses of dark brown wool come roaring and thundering at me +would be to make boast that no one who has had a similar experience +would believe. + +Fortunately, not far behind me was the hollow or gully already +mentioned and I bolted over the edge of it. As soon as the bank +concealed my person I ran as I never ran before taking a course at right +angles to my original one and leeward of the herd, and at last, out of +breath, I rolled over in the weeds and lay there panting and straining +my ears to hear the snorting beasts. + +My chest felt dry, hot and oppressed from forced and labored breathing, +and had the buffalo discovered me I do not think I could have run +another step. But the big brutes halted at the edge of the bank and +seeing no one in sight walked around pawing and throwing up great clouds +of dust and in their rage apparently daring me to come forth. Like a +small boy when he hears a challenge from a gang of toughs, I decided +that I did not want to fight and lay as quiet as possible among the +sunflowers until I had regained my breath. When the buffalo wandered +back to their original pasture land I, like a coyote, slunk away and +consoled myself with the thought that although I had had my run for my +money, at least, I had seen the death of the antelope even if I did miss +again seeing the Wild Hunter “collar his game,” as Big Pete would have +called the act of securing it. Besides this I had a real exciting +adventure with good red-blooded American animals and learned the lesson +that large horned beasts which have not been taught to fear man are +exceedingly dangerous to man. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Rising abruptly from the prairie was a frowning precipice a thousand or +more feet high and above and beyond the top of this cliff, the +mountains. + +When Big Pete told me that his park was “walled in” he told me the +mildest sort of truth; the prairie is the bottom of a wide canyon, in +fact everything seems to indicate that the whole park had settled, +sunk—“taken a drop” of a thousand or more feet; forming what miners +would call a fault. + +From the glaciers up among the clouds numerous streams of melted ice +came dashing down the sides of the mountain range, fanciful cascades +leaping without fear from most stupendous heights spreading out in long +horse-tail falls over the face of the cliff, doing everything but +looking real. At the foot of each of the falls there was a pool of deep +water, in one or two instances the pools were smooth basins hollowed out +of solid rock in which the water was as transparent as air and but for +the millions of air bubbles caused by the falling water every inch of +bottom could be plainly seen by an observer at the brink of the pool. + +The trout in these basins were almost as colorless as the water itself +(the light color of the fish is due to their chameleon-like power of +modifying their hue to imitate their surroundings)—this mimicry is so +perfect that after looking into one of these stone basins, the rounded +smooth sides of which offered no shade or nook where a trout might hide, +I was ready to declare the waters uninhabited but no sooner had my brown +hackel or professor settled lightly on the surface of the pool than out +from among the air bubbles a fish appeared and seized the fly. + +My sprained ankle was now so much improved that upon discovering a +diagonal fracture in the face of the cliff, which looked as if offering +a foot hold, and feeling reckless, I determined to make the effort to +scale the wall at this point. + +If the giant “fault” is of comparatively recent occurrence, geologically +speaking, it seemed reasonable that there would be trout in the streams +above the cliff and the memory of the fact that Pete had reported that +both Rocky Mountain sheep and goats were up there decided me to attempt +to scale the wall by the fracture. It was a long, hard climb and more +than once while I clung to the chance projections or dug my fingers into +small cracks and looked down upon the backs of some golden eagle sailing +in spirals below me, I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt, but when +the top was reached and I saw signs of sheep and had a peep at a white +object I took to be a goat, I felt repaid for my arduous climb. + +The elevated prairie or table-land on which I found myself corresponded +in every important particular with the park below; there were the same +natural divisions of prairie and forests, the same erratic boulders, but +on account of the difference in elevation there was a corresponding +difference in plant life, and most interesting of all to me, there were +the trout streams. The tablelands above the park were comparatively +level in places where the stream ran almost as quietly as a meadow +brook, but these level stretches were interrupted at short distance by +foaming rapids, jagged rocks and roaring falls. + +My angler’s instinct told me that the biggest fish lurked in the deep +pools, to reach which it was necessary to creep and worm myself over the +open flats of sharp stones and patches of heather, but once on the +vantage ground the swish of a trout rod sounded there for the first time +since the dawn of Creation. + +[Illustration: More than once while I clung to the chance projection +... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt] + +There was an audible splash at my first cast. My, how that reel did +sing! Before I realized it, my fish had reached rapid water and taken +out a dangerous amount of line; still I dared not check him too severely +among the sharp rocks and swift waters, so I ran along the bank, +stumbling over stones, but managing to avail myself of every opportunity +to wind in the line until I had the satisfaction of seeing enough line +on my reel to prepare me for possible sudden dashes and emergencies. + +Ah! that was a glorious fight, and when at last I was able to steer my +tired fish into shallow water I saw there were three of them, one lusty +trout on each of my three flies. I had no landing net so I gently slid +the almost exhausted fish onto a gravel bar and as I did so I +experienced one of those delightful thrills which comes to a fellow’s +lot but once or twice in a life-time. But it was not because I had +captured three at a strike, for I have done that before and since, but I +thrilled because they were not only a new and strange kind of trout, but +they were of the color and sheen of newly minted gold. Never before had +any man seen such trout. + +I have since been informed that I had blundered on to water inhabited by +the rarest of all game fish, the so-called golden trout, which has since +been discovered and which scientists declare to be pre-glacier fish left +by some accident of nature to exist in a new world in which all their +original contemporaries have long been extinct. + +Think of it! Fish which had never seen an artificial fly nor had any +family traditions of experiences with them. It is little wonder that +they would jump at a brown hackle, a professor or even a gaudy salmon +fly. Why they would jump at a chicken feather! They were ready and eager +to bite at any sort of bunco game I saw fit to play upon them. They were +veritable hayseeds of the trout family, but when they felt the hook in +their lips, the wisest trout in the world could not show a craftier nor +half as plucky a fight. They would leap from the water like +small-mouthed bass and by shaking their heads, try to throw off the +hateful hook. + +The constant vigorous exercise of leaping water-falls and forging up +boiling rapids had developed these sturdy mountaineer trout into +prodigies of strength and endurance. Even now my nerves tingle to the +tips of my toes as in fancy I hear my reel hum or see the tip of my five +ounce split bamboo bend so as to almost form a circle. + +I fished that stream with hands trembling with excitement and had filled +my creel with the rare fish before I began to notice other objects of +interest. Suddenly I became aware of the presence of two birds hovering +over and diving under the cold water. They were evidently feeding on +some aquatic creature which my duller senses could not discern. + +Although they were the first of the kind that I had ever seen alive, I +at once recognized the feathered visitors to be water ouzels. The birds +preceded me on my way along the water course towards camp, and were +never quiet a minute. They would hop on a rock in mid-stream and bob up +and down in a most solemn but comical manner for a moment before +plunging fearlessly into the cold white spray of the falls or the swift +dashing current, where they would disappear below the surface only to +reappear once more on another rock to bob again. + +A ducking did not trouble the ouzels, for as they came out of the water +the liquid rolled in crystal drops from their feathers and their plumage +was as dry as if it had never been submerged. The wilder and swifter the +cold glacier water ran the more the birds seemed to enjoy it. + +The nearer I approached the edge of the precipitous walls, enclosing the +valley comprising Big Pete’s park, the rougher grew the trail, and as I +was picking my way I paused to gaze at the distant purple peaks and +watch the sun set in that lonely land as if I was witnessing it for the +first time. As my eyes roamed over the stupendous distance and unnamed +mountains I felt my own puny insignificance, as who has not when +confronted with the vastness of nature. + +I turned from my view of the sunset to retrace my steps to the valley, +and peeping over the top of a large boulder, saw seated upon an +inaccessible crag directly in front of me, a gigantic figure of a man +clad in a hunter’s garb, and he was smoking a long cigar! + +When I thought of Big Pete’s description of how the Wild Hunter was wont +to sit with his long legs dangling from some rock while he smoked one of +those unprocurable cigars, and when I realized that the figure before me +was fully sixty feet tall, I must confess to experiencing a queer +sensation. + +It was a shadowy figure yet it moved, arose, held out one hand, and a +bird as large as the fabled roc alighted on the wrist of the +outstretched hand. + +A slight breeze sprang up, the white mists from the valley rolled up the +mountainside and drifted away and the man and bird disappeared from +view. + +It was long after dark when I reached camp and was greeted by my friend +and guide with “Gol durn your pictur tenderfut, if it hain’t tuk you +longer to get a pesky mess of yaller fish than it orter to kill a bar.” + +“Little wonder,” thought I, “that the Wild Hunter used golden bullets in +a land where even the fish’s scales seemed to be of the same precious +metal”; but I said nothing as I sat down to clean my “yaller trout.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +It was always interesting to me when I could get Pete’s theories and his +brand of philosophy on almost any subject and it was my intention that +night at supper to lead up to the apparition I had seen on the cliffs +that day. With a substantial supper tucked away I was in a better frame +of mind to realize that the illusion I had seen was not uncommon in +mountain districts. I recalled that I had read of, and seen pictures of, +a particular illusion of this nature that is often present in the Hartz +Mountains in Germany and I knew full well that the setting sun, the mist +and the atmospheric condition had all contributed to throwing a greatly +enlarged shadow of the real Wild Hunter onto the screen made by the mist +very much as today a motion picture increases the size of the small film +image when it is thrown on the movie screen. + +I intended to get Big Pete’s idea on the subject but I never did for I +was not adroit enough to steer the conversation in that direction, for +Big Pete seized my first statement and made it a subject for a veritable +lecture. + +“There was a smashing lot of those trout up there, Pete. Bet I could +have brought home all I could have carried if I had been a game hog,” I +said, as I stirred the fire with a stick and set the coffee pot nearer +the flames to warm a second cup. + +“You see, tenderfut, it’s like this,” he said, “when a man goes out to +kill a deer for the fun of blood-spilling or to get th’ poor critter’s +head to hang in his shack, he’s nothing more than a wolf or butcher; +hain’t half as good a man as the one who never shot a deer, but goes +back home and lies about it. The liar hain’t harmed nothin’ with his +lies. His fairy stories don’t hurt game an’ they be interesting to the +tenderfuts in the States. The real sportsman is the pot-hunter. Yes, +that’s jist what I mean, a pot-hunter—he’s out ’cause the camp kettle +is empty, and it’s up agin him to fill it or starve. Now then, this +fellow is not after blood; nor trophies, nor is he hunting for the +market. It’s self-preservation with him, that’s what it is. He’s an +animal along with the rest of ’em and he knows he’s got jest as much a +right to live as tha’ have and no more! He’s hustling for his living +along with the bunch, forcing it from savage nature, and I tell you boy, +there is no greater physical pleasure in life than holding old Mother +Nature up and just saying to her, ‘You’ve got a living for me, ole’ gal, +and I’m going to get it.’ + +“Such talk pleases the old lady, makes her your friend ’cause she likes +your spunk, and because of it she’ll give you the wind of a grey wolf, +the step of the panther, the strength of the buffalo and the courage of +a lion. She is always generous with her favorites. Ah! lad, she kin make +your blood dance in your veins, make fire flash from your eyes and give +you the steady nerve necessary to face a she-grizzly when she is +fightin’ for her cubs.” + +“Why? ’cause you see, you are a grizzly yourself when the camp kettle is +empty!” And Big Pete relapsed into silence, turned his attention to his +tin platter, examining it carefully, and then with a piece of dough-god, +carefully wiped the platter clean and contentedly munched the savory +bit. + +The reason, that being locked into Big Pete’s park in the mountains +struck me as being very serious, was because I realized that although +the park was extensive it was completely surrounded by a practically +unsurmountable barrier of rugged cliffs and mountains negotiable, as far +as I knew, not even by the sure-footed mountain sheep and goats which we +could occasionally see on the cliffs from the valley floor, but never +saw in the park itself. I questioned Big Pete and found that he did not +know of a trail up the cliffs. + +“Though,” he said, “there must be some sort of a one for that tha’ Wild +Hunter gits in an’ out and brings his wolf pack along too. He knows a +trail all right an’ ef he knows it why it’s up to us to find it, too.” + +“Maybe we can trail him,” I suggested. + +“Trail him! Me? With that wolf pack clingin’ to his heels? Not while I’m +alive!” + +That was the last that was said about trailing the Wild Hunter for some +time to come, but meanwhile we built a more or less open faced permanent +camp and Big Pete initiated me into mysteries of real woodcraft, for it +was up to us now to live on the land, so to speak. + +Although hard usage had made havoc with my tailormade clothes, neither +time nor the elements seemed to affect the personal appearance of my big +companion; his buckskin suit was apparently as clean and fresh as it was +on the day I first met him. There was no magic in this. Big Pete knew +how to clamber all day through a windfall without leaving the greater +part of his clothes on the branches, a feat few hunters and no +tenderfoot have yet been able to accomplish. + +As I have already said, Pete was a dude, but he was what might be called +a self-perpetuating dude, who never ran to seed no matter how long he +might be separated from the city tailor shops, for Pete was his own +tailor, barber and valet, and the wilderness supplied the material for +his costume. + +In the camp he was as busy as an old housewife, and occupied his leisure +time mending, stitching and darning. Many a morning my own toilet +consisted of a face wash at the spring, but my guide seldom failed to +spend as much time prinking as if he expected distinguished visitors! + +Instead of “Tenderfoot,” Big Pete now called me “Le-loo,” which I +understand is Chinook for wolf and I took so much pride in my promotion +that I would not have changed clothes with the Prince of Wales; I +gloried in my wild, unkempt appearance! + +Nevertheless, Big Pete announced that he was the Hy-as-ty-ee (big boss) +and he forthwith declared that my costume was unsuitable for the +approaching cold weather. There was no disputing that Big Pete was +Hy-as-ty-ee and I agreed to wear whatever clothes he should make for me, +and can say with no fear of dispute that if that ancient chump, Robinson +Crusoe, had had a Big Pete for a partner in place of a man Friday, he +would have never made himself his outlandish goatskin clothes and a +clumsy umbrella. + +From a cache in the rocks Pete brought forth a miscellaneous lot of +trappers’ stores, bone needles made from the splints of deer’s legs, +elk’s teeth with holes bored through them, and odds and ends of all +kinds. + +Among his stuff was a supply of salt-petre and alum, and this was +evidently the material for which he was searching for he at once +preceeded to make a mixture of two parts salt-petre to one of alum and +applied the pulverized compound to the fleshy side of the skins, then +doubling the raw side of the hides together he rolled them closely and +placed the hides in a cool place where they were allowed to remain for +several days; when at length unrolled, the skins were still moist. + +“Just right, by Gosh,” he exclaimed, as he took a dull knife and +carefully removed all particles of fat or flesh which here and there +adhered to the hide. After this was done to his satisfaction we both +took hold and rubbed, and mauled and worked the skins with our hands +until the hides were as soft and as pliable as flannel. Thus was the +material for my winter clothing prepared. + +It took four whole deer-skins to furnish stuff for my buckskin shirt +with the beautiful long fringes at the seams; but the whole garment was +cut, sewed and finished in a day’s time. It was sewed with thread made +of sinew. + +When it came to making the coat and trousers Big Pete spent a long time +in solemn thought before he was ready to begin work on these garments; +at length he looked up with a broad smile and cried: + +“See here, Le-loo, I have taken a fancy to them ’ere tenderfut pants o’ +your’n. Off with ’em now an’ I’ll jist cut out the new ones from the old +uns.” In vain I pleaded with him to make my trousers like his own; he +would not listen to me, he insisted upon having my ragged but stylish +knickerbockers to use as a pattern. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Big Pete was an expert backwoods tailor, shoemaker and shirtmaker, but +these were but few of his accomplishments, not his trade; he was first, +last and aways a hunter and scout. No matter what occupation seemed to +engage his attention for the time it never interfered with his ability +to hear, see or smell. + +It was while I was going around camp minus my lower garments that I saw +Pete suddenly throw up his head and suspiciously sniff the air, at the +same time sharply scanning the windward side of our camp. Living so long +with this strange man made me familiar with his actions and quick to +detect anything unusual and I now knew that something of interest had +happened. To the windward and close by us was a mound thickly covered +with bullberry bushes and underbrush, and so far as could be seen there +was nothing suspicious in the appearance of the thicket. Fixing my eyes +on Big Pete, I saw a peculiar expression spread over his face which +seemed to be half of mirth and half of wonderment, and I immediately +knew that his wonderful nose had warned him of the presence of something +to the windward. + +Slowly and quietly he laid aside my almost finished breeches and +silently stole away. It was only a few minutes before he returned with a +very solemn face. + +“Doggone my corn shucked bones, Le-loo, we’ve had a visitor but it got +away mighty slick and quick. I hain’t determint yit whether it wa’ man +er beast er both, er jist a thing wha’ might change into ’tother. We’ll +hafter investigate later. Here git these duds on.” + +When I put on my new elk-hide knickerbockers with cuffs of dressed +buckskin laced around my calves, and my beautiful soft buckskin shirt +tucked in at the waist I began to feel like a real Nimrod, but after I +added my “Moo-loch-Capo,” the shooting jacket with elk-teeth buttons, +pulled a pair of shank moccasins over my feet and donned a cap made of +lynx skin, I was as happy as a child with its Christmas stocking. It was +a really wonderful suit of clothing; the hair of the elk hide was on the +outside, and not only made the coat and breeches warmer, but helped to +shed the rain. The buttons of the elk-teeth were fastened on with thongs +run through holes in their centers, and my coat could be laced up after +the fashion of a military overcoat. The elk’s teeth served as frogs and +loops of rawhide answered for the braid that is used on military coats. + +My shank moccasins were made by first making a cut around each of the +hind legs of an elk, at a sufficient distance above the heels to leave +hide enough for boot legs and making another cut far enough below the +heels to make room for one’s feet. The fresh skins when peeled off +looked like rude stockings with holes at the toes. The skins were +turned wrong side out, and the open toes closed by bringing the lower +part, or sole, up over the opening and sewing it there after the manner +of a tip to the modern shoe. When this novel foot-gear was dry enough +for the purpose, Big Pete ornamented the legs with quaint colored +designs made with split porcupine quills colored with dyes which Pete +himself had manufactured of roots and barks. + +Dressed in my unique and picturesque costume I stood upright while Pete +surveyed me with the pride and satisfaction of one who had done a fine +piece of work. I had now little fear of being called a tenderfoot and +when I viewed my reflection in the spring I felt quite proud of my +appearance. + +“Come along now old scout,” said Pete viewing me with the pride of an +artist, “come along and let me test you on a real trail. I want to see +what my teaching has done for you.” + +Pete led me through the underbrush to a point among the rocks. + +“Tha’. A trail begins right under yore nose; let’s see what you make of +it,” he said crisply. + +Down on all fours I crept over the ground and, to my surprise and joy, I +found that I could here and there detect a turned leaf the twist of +which indicated the direction taken by the party who made the trail. I +noticed that the bits of wood, pine cones and sticks scattered around +were darker on the parts next to the ground, and it only required simple +reasoning for me to conclude that when the dark side was uppermost the +object had been recently disturbed and rolled over. + +It was a day of great discoveries. I found that what is true of the +sticks is equally true of the pebbles and a displaced fragment of stone +immediately caught my eyes. With the tenacity of a bloodhound I stuck to +my task until I suddenly found myself at the base of the park wall, at +the foot of the diagonal fracture in the face of the cliff where I had +climbed when I discovered the golden trout. As I have said, the +fracture led diagonally up the towering face of the beetling precipice. + +For fear that I might have made some mistake I carefully retraced my +steps backward toward the bullberry bushes near the camp. On the back +trail I came upon some distinct and obvious footprints in a dusty place, +but so deeply interested was I in hidden signs, the slight but tell-tale +disturbances of leaf and soil, that I once passed these plainly marked +tracks with only a glance and would have done so the second time had not +their marked peculiarities accidentally caught my attention. + +When examining the trail of this mysterious camp visitor I suddenly +realized that in place of moccasin footprints I was following bear +tracks, my heart ceased to beat for a moment or two before I could pull +myself together and smother the prehensile footed superstitious old +savage in me with the practical philosophy of the up-to-date man of +today. + +Taking a short cut I ran back to the foot of the pass and there, on +hands and knees, ascended for a hundred feet or more—the bear steps led +up the pass, and yet at the beginning of the trail the feet wore +moccasins. This I knew because at one place the foot-mark showed plainly +in the gray alkali dust which had accumulated upon a projecting stone a +few feet below the ledge. Obviously whoever the visitor was, he had +entered and left by this pass. Returning to camp I sat down on a log +lost in thought. My reverie was at last broken by the voice of my guide +quietly remarking. “Well, Le-loo, what’s your judication?” + +“Pete,” I said, “that bear walks on its hind-legs; there is not the sign +of a forefoot anywhere along the trail. Now this could not be caused by +the hind feet obliterating the tracks of the front feet, because in many +places the pass is so steep that the forefeet in reaching out for +support would make tracks not overlapped by the hind ones.” + +“That’s true, Le-loo; sartin true. If you live to be a hundred years +you’ll make as good a trailer as the great Greaser trailer of New +Mexico, Dolores Sanchez, or my old friend Bill Hassler, who could follow +a six-month-old trail,” replied my guide. “But,” he continued, “maybe +witch-bears do walk on their hind legs same as people.” + +“Witch be blamed!” I cried impatiently; “this is no four-legged witch +nor bear either. That was a man and when he thought he would be followed +he put on moccasins made from bears’ paws to leave a disguised trail. +And moreover I believe that man is none other than the Wild Hunter +without his wolf pack. And that pass is the pathway he takes in and out +of this park. I’m going to trail him whether you want to or not. Goodbye +Pete, I’ll come back for you,” and picking up my gun and other necessary +traps, I prepared to start immediately upon my journey, for I felt that +to follow this trail would not only get us out of our park prison but +would lead me to the abode of the Wild Hunter, where perhaps I could +talk with him and learn some of the things I was so eager to know about +my parents. + +Big Pete looked at me solemnly for a while, ran over the cartridges in +his belt and went through all those familiar unconscious motions which +betokened danger ahead, and said, “Le-loo, you are a quare critter; +you’re not afraid of all the werwolves, medicine ba’rs and ghosts in +this world or the next, but tarnally afeared of live varmints like +grizzly bars—one would think you had no religion, but, gosh all +hemlock! If you can face a bear-man or a werwolf, even though all the +Hy-as Ecutocks of the mountains show fight, I’ll be cornfed if I don’t +stand by ye! Barring the Wild Hunter, I don’t know as I ever ran agin a +Ecutock yit; that is if he be a Ecutock. Maybe he’s a Econe? Yes, I +reckon that’s what he is,” continued Pete reflectively. + +“Maybe he is a pine cone,” I laughed. Then added, “Whatever he is, he +knows the way out of this park of yours and I am going to follow him,” I +emphatically answered. + +“That’s howsomever!” exclaimed my guide approvingly; “but,” he +continued, “the mountains are kivered with snow, while it is still +summer down here, so I reckon ’twould be the proper wrinkle for us to +pull our things together, have a good feed and a good sleep before we +start. White men start off hot-headed and I kinder like their grit, but +Injuns stop and sot by the fire an’ smoke an’ think afore they start on +a raid an’ I kinder think they be wiser in this than we ’uns, so let’s +do as the Injuns would do. We can cache most of our stuff and turn the +horses loose. Bighorn’s mutton is powerful good, but tarnally shy and +hung mighty high, an’ billygoat is doggoned strong ’nless you know how +to cook ’em. Yes, we’ll eat an sleep fust an’ then his for the land +where the Bighorn pasture, the woolywhite goats sleep on the rocks, the +whistling marmot blows his danger signal an’ the pretty white ptarmigan +hides hisself in the snow-banks, the home of the Ecutocks. + +“What the thunder is a Ecutock, Pete?” I asked. + +“An Injun devil, I reckon you’d call it; it’s bad medicine,” he answered +soberly, and continuing in his former strain, he exclaimed: + +“Whar critters like goats, sheeps and rock-chucks kin live, you bet your +Hy-as muck-a-muck we kin live too!” + +That night I rolled up into my blanket, filled with strange +presentiments. Again the question came up: What is the source of the +influence that this madman of the mountains, this wild hunter, this +leader of the black wolf pack, had on me to impel me to trail him over +the mountains? Was it mental telepathy? Could he really be my father? +Somehow I felt convinced that soon I would be face to face with the +riddle, soon I would know the facts and the truth about my parents. It +seemed unthinkable that all these weeks of wilderness travel had been +for naught and that the Wild Hunter was nothing but a strange, eccentric +old fellow living alone in the mountains and of no interest to me +whatsoever. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +We made our start at daylight, loaded with all the necessities for a +climb over the mountains. The rest of our supplies and equipment we +cached, and Big Pete turned our horses loose assuring me that in the +spring he would come back and rope them. + +The lower trail of the pass was quite well defined and we made famous +progress, but the higher we climbed the more difficult the going became +and more than once we were forced to pause on a ledge to rest and regain +our breath. + +On one ledge I got my first really close view of a bighorn sheep, and I +became so excited that nothing would do but I must stalk him, despite +Big Pete’s assurance that the wily old ram would not let me get within +gun shot of him in such an exposed area. + +I crawled, and wriggled, and twisted over rock and boulders for what to +me seemed miles, but always the sheep kept just out of accurate shooting +distance ahead of me. It was an exasperating chase, but one cannot live +in the mountains for any length of time without paying more or less +attention to geology; the mountaineer soon learns that stratified rock, +that is rock arranged like layer cake, resting in a horizontal position +on its natural bed, makes travel over its top comparatively easy, but +when by the subsidence or upheaval of the earth’s crust huge masses of +stone have been tilted up edgewise, it is an entirely different +proposition. + +In this latter case the erosion, or the wearing away, caused by +trickling water, frost and snow, sharpens the edge of the rock, as a +grindstone does the edge of an ax, and traveling along one of these +ridges presents almost the same difficulties that travel along the edge +of an upturned ax would do to a microscopic man. + +But when a sportsman, for the first time in his life, has succeeded in +creeping within range of a grand bighorn ram, and his bullet, speeding +true, has badly wounded the game, hardships are forgotten, and if, on +account of the miraculous vitality of the mountain sheep, there is +danger of losing the quarry, all the inborn instinct of the predaceous +beast in man’s nature is aroused, and danger is a consideration not to +be taken in account. + +A hawk in pursuit of a barnyard fowl will follow it into the open door +of the farmhouse; the hound in pursuit of the fox cares not for the +approaching locomotive—being possessed by the instinct to kill—nothing +is of importance to them but the capture of the game in sight. A man +following a buck is governed by a like singleness of purpose. + +For this reason I was scrambling along the knife-like edge of the ridge, +with death in the steep treacherous slide rock on one side, death in the +steep green glacier ice on the other side, and torture and wounds under +my feet. + +But the fever of the chase had possession of me. I had tasted blood and +felt the fierce joy of the puma and the wild intoxication of a hunting +wolf! + +The cruel wounds inflicted by the sharp stones under my feet were +unnoticed. Away ahead of me was a moving object; it could use but three +legs, but that was one leg more than I had, and the ram had distanced +me. After an age of time I reached the rugged, broader footing of the +mountain side, and creeping up behind some sheltering rocks again fired +at the fleeing ram. With the impact of the bullet the sheep fell +headlong down a cliff to a projecting rock thirty feet below, where it +lay apparently dead. A moment later it again arose, seemingly as able as +ever, and ran along the face of the beetling rock where my eyes, aided +by powerful field glasses, could perceive no foothold; then it gave a +magnificent leap to a ledge on the opposite side of the narrow canyon +and fell dead, out of my reach. + +Spent with my long, rough run, I naturally selected the most +comfortable seat in which to rest; this chanced to be a cushion of +heather-like plants along the side of a fragment of rock which +effectually concealed my body from view from the other side of the +chasm. Here, on the verge of that impassable canyon, I sat panting and +looking at the poor dead creature upon the opposite side; its right +front leg was shattered at the shoulder, a bullet had pierced its lungs. +Yet, with two fatal wounds and a useless leg, the plucky creature had +scaled the face of a cliff which one would think a squirrel would find +impossible to traverse and made leaps which might well be considered +improbable for a perfectly sound animal. The ram was dead and food for +the ravens, and a reaction had taken place in my mind; I felt like a +bloody murderer, and hung my head with a sense of guilt. + +Presently, becoming conscious of that peculiar guttural noise, used by +Big Pete when desiring caution, and looking up I was amazed to see a +splendid Indian youth climb down the face of the opposite cliff, throw +his arms around the dead ram’s neck and burst into deep but subdued +lamentation. For the first time I now saw that what I had mistaken for a +blood stain on the bighorn’s neck was a red collar. + +Cautiously producing my field glasses I examined the collar and +discovered it to be made of stained porcupine quills cleverly worked on +a buckskin band. The field glasses also told me that the boy’s shirt was +trimmed with the same material, while a duplicate of the sheep’s collar +formed a band which encircled his head, confining the long black hair +and preventing it from falling over his face, but leaving it free to +hang down his back to a point below the waist line. + +So absorbed was I in this unique spectacle that I carelessly allowed my +elbow to dislodge a loose fragment of stone which went clattering down +the face of the precipice. This proved to be almost fatal carelessness, +for, with a movement as quick as the stroke of a rattlesnake, the lad +placed an arrow to the string of a bow and sent the barbed shaft with +such force, promptitude and precision that it went through my fur cap, +the arrow entangling a bunch of my hair, taking it along with it. + +“Squat lower, Le-loo; arrows has been the death of many a man afore +you,” whispered Big Pete in my ear, but even as he spoke another arrow +sang over our crouching bodies, shaving the protecting rock so closely +that their plumed tips brushed the dust on our backs. + +“Waugh! Good shootin’, by gum! I never seed it beat; if he onct sots +them black eyes on our hulking carcasses he’ll get us yit,” muttered my +guide, enthusiastically. “He’s mighty slender, quick and purty—but so +also be a rattlesnake!” he exclaimed, as another arrow slit the sleeve +of his wamus as cleanly as if it were cut with a knife. + +“For God’s sake, stop!” I shouted, in real alarm. The boy paused, but +with an arrow still drawn to its head. His eyes flashing, head erect, +one moccasined foot on the ram’s body, the other braced against the +cliff; his short fawn-colored skin shirt clung to his lithe body, and +the fringed edges hung over the dreadful black chasm in front of him. It +was a picture to take away one’s breath. “Put down your weapon, and we +will stand with our hands up,” I cried. Slowly the bow was lowered and +as slowly Big Pete and I arose, holding our empty hands aloft. “Now, +young fellow, tell us your pleasure.” + +There are a few gray hairs showing at my temples which first made their +appearance while I was crouching behind that stone on the edge of the +chasm. + +To my polite inquiry asking his pleasure, the wild boy made no reply but +glanced at us with the utmost contempt when Big Pete went through some +gestures in Indian sign language. The lad mutely pointed to the dead +sheep, the sight of which seemed to enrage him again, for insensibly his +fingers tightened on the bow and the wood began to curve after a manner +which sent me ducking behind the sheltering stone again; but Big Pete +only folded his arms across his broad chest and looked the boy straight +in the eyes. + +Never will I forget that picture, the cold, bleak, snow-covered +mountains towering above them, the black abyss of Sheol between them; +neither would hesitate to take life, neither possessed a fear of death; +but with every muscle alert and every nerve alive these two wild things +stood facing each other, mutually observing a truce because of—what? +Because, in spite of the fighting instinct or, maybe, because of it they +both secretly admired each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The black chasm which separated us from the trail of the wild hunter was +not as formidable a barrier as the unfathomable abyss which separates +the reader from what he thinks he would have done had he been in my +place, and what really would have been his plan of action. + +There were a lot of burning questions which I had privately made up in +my mind to propound to the Wild Hunter, or the even wilder medicine +bear, upon the occasion of our next meeting. But when the lad was +standing before me, with bended bow and flashing eyes, the burning +importance of those questions did not appeal to me as forcibly as did +the urgent necessity of sheltering my body behind the friendly stone. To +be truthful, it must be admitted that the proposed inquiries were, for +the time, entirely forgotten, and I even breathed a sigh of relief when +the boy suddenly clambered up the face of the cliff, turned, gave us a +fierce look of defiance, made some quick energetic gestures with his +hand and disappeared. + +He scaled that precipitous rock with the rapidity and self-confidence of +a gray squirrel running up the trunk of a hickory tree, squirrel-like, +taking advantage of every crack, cranny and projection that could be +grasped by fingers or moccasin-covered toes. + +Not until the Indian had disappeared down a dry coulee did I venture +from the shelter of the protecting rock, or realize that my carefully +planned interview must be indefinitely postponed. + +With his arms folded across his chest, his blond hair sweeping his +shoulders, his blue eyes fixed upon a rocky rib of the mountain behind +which the boy had disappeared, Big Pete still stood like a statue. But +gradually the statuesque pose resolved itself into a more commonplace +posture, and the muscles of the face relaxed until the familiar twinkle +hovered around the corners of his eyes. “What did he say when he made +those motions, Pete?” + +“Waugh! he said he was not afraid of any whitefaced coyote like us.” And +bringing forth his pipe, Pete filled it from the beaded tobacco pouch +which hung on his breast, and by means of a horn of punk, a flint and +steel, he soon had the pipe aglow and was puffing away as calmly as if +nothing unusual had occurred. Presently he exclaimed, “Gol durn his +daguerrotype, what good did it do him to throw that sheep down the +gulch? Reckon Le-loo and me could find a better grave for mutton chops +than that canyon bottom. The mountains didn’t need the sheep an’ we did. +But, I reckon it was his own sheep you killed, ’cause it had a porcupine +collar same pattern as the trimmings of his shirt.” + +Turning his great blue eyes full upon me, he suddenly shot this inquiry, +“Be he bar, ecutock or werwolf?” + +“He is the finest adjusted, easiest running, most exquisitely balanced, +highest geared bit of human machinery I ever saw,” I answered +enthusiastically. + +“Wall, maybe ye are right, Le-loo, an’ maybe ye hain’t; which is +catamount to saying, maybe it is a man and maybe it tain’t.” + +“Steady, Pete, old fellow, let us go slow; now tell me at what you’re +driving?” I pleaded. + +“It looks to me this hea’-a-way,” he explained. “I’ve seed his trail +onct or twice, an’ I’ve seed him onct, but I never yet seed his trail +and the Wild Hunter’s trail at the same time and place. ’Pears to me +that a man who, when it’s convenient, kin make a wolf of hisself, might +likewise make a boy of hisself whenever he felt that way. Never heared +tell on enny real laid who cud climb like a squtton and shoot a bow +better nor a Robin Hood or Injun, and that’s howsomever!” + +“Well, it does look ‘howsomever,’ and no mistake,” I admitted, “and what +makes it worse, our dinner is at the bottom of this infernal gulch. +Come, let us be moving; the breeze from the snowfields chills me. Let us +hit his trail now while it is fresh.” + +This was a simple proposition to make, but a difficult one to carry into +execution; for to all appearances that trail began upon the other side +of the chasm, and there was no bridge in sight by which we could cross. +Big Pete carefully put a cork-stopper in his pipe, extinguishing the +fire without wasting the unconsumed contents; he then carefully put his +briarwood away and began to uncoil a lariat from around his middle. As +he loosened the braided rawhide from his waist his gaze was roaming over +the opposite rocks. Presently he fixed his attention upon a pinnacle +which reared its cube-like form above the top of the opposite side of +the chasm; the latter was of itself much higher than the brink upon +which we stood. Swinging the loop around his head he sent it whistling +across the chasm, where it settled and encircled the projecting stone, +the honda striking the face of the cliff with a sullen thud. The rope +tightened, but when we both threw our weight on our end of the lariat to +try it, the cube-like pinnacle moved on its base. + +“I oughter knowed better than to try to lasso a piece of slide rock,” +said Pete in disgusted tones, as he cast the end of the braided rawhide +loose and watched it for a moment dangling down the opposite side of the +canyon. + +“Now, Le-loo, we must get over this hole or lose the best lariat in the +Rocky Mountains. We kin look for that boy’s trail on this side, for even +if he be an Ecutock, I’ll bet my crooker bone ’gainst a lock of his hair +that he can’t jump th’ hole, an’ I’ll wager my left ear that he’s got a +trail an’ a bridge somewhar—’nless he turns bird and flops over things +like this,” he added, with a troubled look. + +“Pete,” said I, “never mind the bird business. I’ll admit that there is +a lot of explanation due us before we can rightly judge on the events of +the past few weeks; still I think it may all be explained in a rational +manner; but what if it cannot? We have but one trip to make through this +world, and the more we see the more we will know at the end of the +journey. I am as curious as a prong-horned antelope when there is a +mystery, so put your nose to the ground, my good friend, and find the +spot where this Mr. Werwolf, witch, or bear flies the canyon, and maybe, +like the husband of ‘The Witch of Fife,’ we may find the ‘black crook +shell,’ and with its aid fly out of this ’lum.” + +“I believe your judication is sound, Le-loo; stay where you be an’ if he +hain’t a witch I’ll bet my front tooth agin the string of his moccasin +that I’ll find the bridge, and I’ll swear by my grandmother’s hind leg +that that little imp will pay for our sheep yit.” + +As Pete finished these remarks there was a sudden and astonishing change +in his appearance. His head fell forward, his shoulders drooped, his +back bowed and his knee bent. It was no longer the upright statuesque +Pete the Mountaineer, but Peter the Trailer, all of whose faculties were +concentrated upon the ground. With a swinging gait the human bloodhound +traveled swiftly and silently along the edge of the crevasse, noting +every bunch of moss, fragment of stone, drift of snow or bit of moist +earth, reading the shorthand notes of Nature with facility which far +excelled the ability of my own stenographer to read her own notes when +the latter are a few hours old. But a short time had elapsed before I +heard a shout, and, hurrying to the place where my big friend was +seated, I inquired, “Any luck?” + +“Tha’s as you may call it. Here is wha’ tha’ boy jumped,” he replied, +pointing to some marks on the stone which were imperceptible to me, “an’ +tha’s wha’ he landed,” he continued, pointing to a slight ledge upon the +face of the opposite cliff at least twenty feet distant. “He’s a jumper, +an’ no mistake—guess I might as well have my front tooth pulled, fur +I’ve lost my bet,” soliloquized the trailer, as he sat on the edge of +the cliff, with his legs hanging over the frightful chasm. + +The ledge indicated by Big Pete as the landing place of the phenomenal +jumper might possibly have offered a foothold for a bighorn or goat, but +I could not believe that any human being could jump twenty feet to a +crumbling trifle of a ledge on the face of a precipice, and not only +retain a foothold there, but run up the face of the rock like a fly on a +window-pane. Yet I could see that something had worn the ledge at the +point indicated and when I stood a little distance away from the trail I +could plainly note a difference in color marking the course of the trail +where it led over the flinty rocks to the jumping place. + +“Wull, Le-loo! What’s your opinion of the Ecutock now? Do he use wings +or ride a barleycorn broom?” asked Pete, with a triumphant smile. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Apparently there was no possible way by which we might hope to cross the +canyon, and I threw myself prone upon the top of the stony brink of the +chasm and peered down the awful abyss at the silver thread, shining in +the gloom of the shadows, which marked the course of a stream, and +wondered what the Boy Scouts of Troop 6 of Marlborough would do under +the circumstances. + +I studied the face of the opposite cliff in a vain search for some hint +to the solution of the problem before us, looking up and down from side +to side as far as allowed by the range of my vision. At length my +attention wandered to the perpendicular face of the cliff, on the top of +which my body was sprawled; there was an upright crack in the face of +the stone wall, and as I examined the fracture I saw that a piece of +wood had lodged in the crack; a piece of wood in a crevice in a rock is +not so unusual an occurrence as to excite remark; but when it occurred +to me that we were then far above the timber line, my interest and +curiosity were at once aroused. + +The end of the stick was within a short distance from my hand, and +reaching down I grasped the wood and brought forth, not a short club or +stick, as I thought to be concealed there, but a very long pole. The +result of my investigations was so unexpected that I came dangerously +near allowing the thing to slide through my fingers and fall to the +bottom of the canyon. It was a neatly-smoothed, slender piece of +lodge-pole pine which was brought to view, and it had a crooked root +nicely spliced to one end and bound tightly in place with rawhide +thongs. Big Pete was wholly absorbed in the trail, the study of which he +had resumed, and when I looked up he was down on all fours, minutely +studying the ground. Presently he cried, “Le-loo, tha’ pesky lad ha’ +been over wha’ you be after sompen and he took it back tha’ again afore +he made his jump! If you’re any good you’ll find what the lad was +after.” + +“He was after his barleycorn broomstick,” I replied, proudly, “and here +it is, although I must confess it is a pretty long one for a fellow of +his size, and it looks more like a giant Bo-Peep’s crook than a witch’s +broom.” + +Big Pete eagerly snatched the pole from my hands and examined it +carefully. At length he said, “This hyer is the end used for the handle; +one can see by the finger marks, an’ this crook is used to scrape stone +with, one kin see, with half an eye, by the way the end is sandpapered +off. Over tha’ air some marks on the stone which look almighty like as +if they’d been made by the end of this yer hook slipping down the face +of the rock. + +“Now, I wonder wha’ cud be up tha’ on the top of the rock that the boy +wanted,” mused Big Pete, and for a moment or so he stood in silent +thought; at length he exclaimed, “Why, bless my corn-shucking soul, if I +don’t believe he’s got a lariat staked out tha’ an’ crosses this ditch +same as we-uns aimed to do!” With that he began raking and scraping the +top of the opposite rock with the shepherd’s crook, and presently there +came tumbling and twisting like a snake down the face of the cliff, a +long braided rawhide rope with a loop at the bottom end. + +“Waugh, Le-loo! tha’s no witchcraft ’bout this ’cep the magic of +common-sense; but we hain’t through with him yit!” By this time Pete had +the end of the rawhide rope in his hands and was testing the strength of +its anchorage upon the opposite cliff. The point where it was fastened +projected some distance over the ledge, where the supposed landing-place +was located, thus making it possible for one to swing at the end of the +rope from our side without danger of coming into too violent contact +with the opposite cliff. + +As soon as my big friend was satisfied that the rope was safe he +grasped it with his two hands, and with one foot in the loop and the +other free to use as a fender, he sailed across the abyss and landed +safely upon the crumbling ledge opposite. + +Holding fast to the rawhide rope with his hands and bracing his feet +against the rock, Pete could walk up the face of the cliff by going +hand-over-hand up the cable at the same time. He had almost reached the +top when I was horror-stricken to see a small hand and brown arm reach +over the precipice; but it was neither the grace nor the beauty of this +shapely bit of anatomy which sent the blood surging to my heart, but the +fact that the cold gray glint of a long-bladed knife caught my eyes and +fascinated me with the fabled “charm” of a serpent. The power of speech +forsook me, but with great effort I succeeded in giving utterance to the +inarticulate noise people gurgle when confronted in their sleep by a +shapeless horror. Big Pete heard the noise, but he was not unnerved +when he saw the knife, neither did he show any nightmare symptoms, +although he was dangling over the terrible abyss with a full knowledge +that it needed but a touch of the keen blade of that knife to sever the +straining lariat and dash him, a mangled mass, on the rocks below. The +danger was too real to give Pete the nightmare; there was nothing spooky +to him in the glittering knife blade, and only ghosts and the +supernatural could give Big Pete the nightmare. Calmly he looked at the +hand grasping the power of death with its strong tapering fingers. +Suddenly and in a firm, commanding voice he gave the order, “Drap tha’ +knife!” + +Ever since I had been in the company of this masterful forest companion +I had obeyed his commands as a matter of course, and so was not +surprised to see the fingers instantly relax their grasp and the knife +go gyrating to the mysterious depths. In a few moments Big Pete was up +and over the edge of the rock and hidden from my view. + +Seizing the long-handled shepherd’s crook, I caught the dangling end of +the lariat, and was soon scrambling up the face of the cliff, leaving a +trail which the veriest novice would not fail to notice and sending +showers of the crumbling stones down the path taken by the knife; it was +several minutes before I had clambered over the face of the projecting +crag and was safe across the black chasm which lay athwart our trail. + +If the Wild Hunter was indeed my father, he certainly was a woodcrafter +and scout to bring pride to a fellow’s heart, for I doubted not that the +Indian boy was his retainer because the porcupine quill decorations on +his buckskin shirt had the same peculiar pattern as that on the wamus of +the Wild Hunter himself as well as on the collar of the pet sheep I had +killed, and also on the buckskin bag of gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Only those persons who have made solitary trips over snow-capped +mountain ridges can appreciate the overwhelming feeling of solitude that +I felt on looking about me. To whatever point of view I turned my eyes +were greeted with a tumbled sea composed of stupendous petrified +billows. + +The occasional fields of snow were the white froth of the stony waves +and the turquoise colored glacial lakes between the crags rather added +to the effect of an angry ocean than detracted from it. + +On a closer examination, some of the rocks appeared to be rough bits of +unfinished worlds still retaining the form they had when poured from the +mighty blast furnaces of the Creator. It was God’s workshop strewn with +huge fragments, still bearing the marks of His mallet and chisel; yet +these cold barren wastes were the pasture lands of the shaggy-coated +white goats and the lithe-limbed bighorned sheep. + +Suddenly a shrill whistle pierced the air and with a jump I +instinctively looked for a vision of the Wild Hunter, but a moment later +realized that the sound I heard was but the warning cry of a whistling +marmot. Again the silence was broken, this time by a low rumbling sound +which increased in volume until it roared like a broadside from an old +forty-four-gun man-of-war, each crag and peak taking up the sound and +hurling it against its neighbor, until the reverberating noise seemed to +come from all points of the compass. + +Away in the distance I could see a white stream pouring from the +precipitous edge of an elevated glacier; this seeming mountain torrent I +knew was not water, but ice, thousands of tons of which having cracked +and broken from the edge of the glacier, were now being dashed over the +hard face of the rock into minute fragments. + +The white stream could be seen to decrease perceptibly in size, from a +broad sheet to a wide band, a narrow ribbon, a line, a hair and then +disappear altogether. While the distant mountains were still growling, +mumbling and playing shuttlecock with the echoes a timid chief hare went +hopping across a green half-acre of grass at the damp edge of a melting +snow patch in my path. Overhead a golden eagle sailed with a small +mammal in its talons; strange reddish-colored bumblebees busied +themselves in a bunch of flowers growing in a crevice in the rocks at my +feet. + +But my eye could discern no larger creatures in this Alpine pasture +land; not only could I see no sheep or goats, but not a sign of my +friend. He had vanished from the face of the picture as completely as if +the master artist had erased him with one mighty sweep of his paint +brush. + +When I viewed the lonely landscape with no human being in sight, I +confess to experiencing a creepy sensation and a strong inclination to +flee, but I knew not in what direction to run. I was in a rough +basin-shaped depression among the mountain peaks, and I sat on a large +rock with my back to a black chasm. From my elevated position I could +see a long distance. Strange fancies creep into one’s head on such +occasions and play havoc with previous well-founded beliefs. To me, poor +fool of a tenderfoot, Big Pete had melted into the thinnest of thin air, +such as is only found in high altitudes, and somehow I wondered whether +the Wild Hunter had had anything to do with it. + +How could I tell that I myself was not invisible? + +I hauled myself up short there for I realized that such folly was not +good to have tumbling around in my brain. I figuratively pulled myself +back to earth, and to steady my nerves reached into my pack and brought +out several hard bits of bannock that I had stored there. I was +dreadfully hungry and I munched these with enthusiasm, meanwhile +keeping a sharp eye out for Big Pete, and between times making the +acquaintance of the little chief hare who, as he scuttled about among +the rocks, looked me over curiously. + +A short distance to my left was a huge obsidian cliff, the glassy walls +of which rose in a precipice to a considerable height. On account of its +peculiar formation, this crag of natural glass had several times +attracted my attention, and on any other occasion I would have been +curious enough to give it closer inspection. Once, as I turned my head +in that direction, I thought I heard a wild laugh and later concluded +that it was only imagination on my part, but now, as I again faced the +cliff, I unmistakably heard a shout and was considerably relieved to see +silhouetted against the sky the figure of Big Pete. + +“Hello, Le-loo,” he shouted. “Through chasin’ that ’ere spook Indian kid +be you? It’s about time. Gosh-all-hemlocks! I been breakin’ my neck +tryin’ to keep up with you, doggone yore hide,” shouted the big guide as +he started to climb down toward me. + +“Hello, Pete! You bet I’m through and I’m blamed near all in. Where are +we, do you know?” I called to him. + +“Top o’ the world, my boy. Top o’ the world, that’s whar we be,” he said +with a grin. + +I had seen no game since I had lost the bighorn, and the sunball was now +hung low in the heavens. It appeared to me that there was every prospect +for a supperless night, too. But Big Pete evidently had no such idea, +and he “’lowed” that he would “mosey” ’round a bit and kill some +varmints for grub. + +There seemed to be plenty of mountain lion signs, and I was surprised +that they should frequent such high altitudes, but Pete told me that +they were up here after marmots, and were all sleek and fat on that +diet. I would not have been surprised if my wild comrade had proposed a +feast on these cats. But it was not long before Pete’s revolvers could +be heard barking and in a short time he returned with two braces of +white ptarmigan, each with its head shattered by a pistol ball, and I +confess these birds were more to my liking than cat meat. Up there ’mid +the snow fields the ptarmigan apparently kept their winter plumage all +year round, and their natural camouflage made them utterly invisible to +me, but to Pete, a white ptarmigan on a white snowfield seemed to be as +easy to detect as if the same bird had been perched on a heap of coal. I +had not seen one of these grouse since we had been in the mountains and +was not aware of their presence until my companion returned with the +four dead birds. + +Without wasting time, Pete began to prepare them for cooking. He soon +built a fire of some sticks which he gleaned from one or two twisted and +gnarled evergreens that had wandered above timber line and cooked the +birds over the embers. He gave a brace to me, and sitting on a boulder +with our feet hanging over the edge we ate our evening meal without salt +or pepper, and then each of us curled up like a grey wolf under the +shelter of a stone and slept as safely as if we were in our bed rolls +down in the genial atmosphere of the park in place of being in the +bitingly cold air of the bleak mountain tops. + +I, at least, slept soundly, and, thanks to the clothes Pete had so +kindly made for me, I do not remember feeling cold. When I awoke again +it was daylight and I could scarcely believe that I had been asleep more +than five minutes since my friend bade me good-night. Big Pete was up +before me, of course, and when I opened my eyes I found him cooking +breakfast and making tea in a tin cup over those economical fires he so +loved to build even when we were in the park where there was fuel enough +for a roaring bonfire. It’s queer how difficult it is to make water boil +on a mountain top. + +“Well, now fer the witch-b’ar track agin,” said Big Pete, wiping his +mouth. + +“Witch-bear!” I exclaimed. “Oh—yes—you don’t mean to tell me you kept +following the track of that two-legged bear this far, Pete?” I +exclaimed, suddenly recalling that we had started out following a +mysterious moccasin trail that had later turned into bear tracks. + +“Sartin’ sure. Didn’t you figger out that that tha’ b’ar war the Injun +or tha’ Wild Hunter who put on moccasins made o’ b’ar feet when he +thought we’d foller him?” asked Pete. + +“Yes, I did, but I forgot—maybe that ram was the Wild Hunter +himself—blame it. Nothing will astonish me in this country.” + +“Yes, you fergot everything, even yore head when you started to foller +that tha’ ram yesterday. But I didn’t. I jest kept peggin’ away at them +tha’ rumswattel b’ar tracks and I followed ’em right up to yonder cliff. +They go on from tha’, but I left ’em last night to come over by you. +Come on, we’ll pick ’em up agin.” And off he started. + +It was soon evident that it was an exceedingly active bear which we were +following for it could climb over green glacier ice like a Swiss guide +and over rocks like a goat. It led us a wild, wild chase over crevasses, +friable and treacherous stones covered with “verglass,” over dangerous +couloirs and all the other things talked of in the Alps but forgotten in +the Rockies, to high elevations, where frozen snow combed over the +beetling crags, and the avalanches roared and thundered down the rocks, +dashing the fragments of stone over the lower ice fields. We were not +roped together like mountain climbers in the Swiss or Tyrolean Alps; we +got the real thrills by using our own hands and feet without ice pick, +staff or hobnailed shoes. + +But Big Pete never hesitated and I followed him without a word, and when +the trail led along the edge of a dizzy height I could look at the +middle of Big Pete’s broad back and then my head would not swim. It +required quick and good judgment to tell just how much of a slant made a +loose stone unsafe to step upon. It was exciting and exhilarating work, +and the violent exercise kept me so warm that I carried most of my +clothes in a bundle on my back. Presently our path led us into a goat +trail, one of those century old paths made by shaggy white Alpine +animals, and used by them as regular highways. There were plenty of +fresh goat signs, and the broad path led us over a saddle mountain to +the verge of a cliff, beyond which it seemed impossible for anything but +birds to pursue the trail. Here we sat down to rest and to make a cup of +tea over a tiny fire, although wood was plentiful at this place, it +being in the timber line. + +Below us lay a valley, into which numerous small glaciers emptied their +everlasting supply of ice and blocks of stone, and horse-tail falls +poured from the melting snow fields. It might have presented enchanting +prospects to an iceman or a bighorn, or a Rocky Mountain goat, but for +two tired men it was a gloomy, dangerous and desolate place and I felt +certain that even a witch-bear would not choose such a dangerous place +as a camping ground. We had finished our tea and I was feeling somewhat +refreshed when I noticed a peculiar stinging sensation about my face; I +felt as if I had been attacked by some peculiar form of insect. But +there were none in sight. + +Pete, at this time, was some distance away prospecting the “lay of the +land.” I saw him suddenly pull the cape of his wamus over his face, and +reasoned that he also had been attacked by these invisible insects. + +To my surprise, the big fellow seemed very much alarmed, and every time +I shouted to him it greatly excited him. As he was hurrying to me as +rapidly as possible, I desisted from further inquiry. When Big Pete +reached my side he pulled a handkerchief from around my neck and put it +over my mouth, making signs which I did not comprehend. At last he put +his muffled mouth to my ear and shouted through the cape of his wamus. +“Shut yer meat-trap or you’re food for the coyotes. It is the WHITE +DEATH!” + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Clothes and stage trappings can neither add nor detract from our respect +for death. He is the same grim old gentleman, be his mouldy bones naked, +or clothed in robes of the most gaudy or brilliant hues. A blue death, a +red death or a yellow death is just as grizzly and awe-inspiring as one +of any shade of gray. Even a black death excites no emotions not touched +by the first name, for it is the dread messenger himself whom we respect +and not his fanciful robes of office. + +As far as I am personally concerned, I confess that Big Pete’s painful +suggestion about the coyotes had more to do with keeping my mouth shut +than any terror inspired by the lily-like purity of the garments of the +white death; what made my bones ache was the thought of the wolves +gnawing them. + +Overhead the sun shone with an unusual brilliancy, and the atmosphere +had that peculiar crystalline transparency which kills space and brings +distant objects close to one’s feet. Where then was the terrible white +messenger? Why must my head be muffled like a mummy? Why must I keep my +mouth shut, while the curiosity mill within me was working overtime +grinding out questions I should dearly love to ask? + +Again and again I looked around me to see where this ghostly white +terror might lurk, and now, as I gazed at the mountains, I was surprised +and annoyed to discover that the distant peaks were gradually +disappearing, being blotted out of the landscape before my eyes; a +ghost-like mantle was creeping over and enshrouding the mountains. + +Like Big Pete, the witch-bear, the ptarmigan and the stinging insects, +the mountains themselves had joined in the weird game and were donning +their fernseed caps of invisibility. Now the air around and about me +seemed to be filled with powdered dust of mica that glinted, sparkled +and scintillated in the sunshine. The breeze which was tossing about the +bright atoms loosened the handkerchief which swathed my nose and mouth, +and I was seized with a violent fit of coughing. + +It was no gentle hand which Big Pete laid on my shoulder before he again +bound the handkerchief around my face and motioned for me to follow him. + +Evidently my guide had been making good use of his time while I was +engaged in idle speculation, for he led me to a point about fifty yards +from the goat trail where there was a possible place to descend the +cliff to a ledge fifty feet below. By this time I had become enough of a +mountaineer to follow my guide over trails which a few weeks previous +would have seemed to me impossible to traverse, and after a hasty and +daring descent we reached the ledge, where I discovered the black mouth +of a cavern; into this hole Pete thrust me and led me back some twenty +yards into the darkness, ordered me to disrobe to the waist, then he +began a most vigorous and irritating slapping and rubbing of my chest; +so insistent and persevering was he that I really thought my skin would +be peeled from shoulders to waist. At last he desisted and ordered me to +put on all my clothes. + +“Are you mad, Pete? Has the rarefied air of the mountains upset your +brain? If not, will you kindly tell me what on earth all this means and +why we are hiding in this gloomy hole?” I asked as soon as I got the +breath back in my body. + +“Le-loo, you be a baby, and need a keeper to prevent you from committing +susancide several times a day. Tenderfoot? Well, I should say so. No one +but a short-horn from the East would keep his mouth open gulping in the +frozen fog, filling his warm lungs with quarts of fine ice. I reckon it +would be healthier to breathe pounded glass, fur it hain’t sharper nor +half as cold. Why, Le-loo, tha’ be a dose of fever and lung inflammation +in every mouthful of this frozen fog.” + +He held my face between his two strong hands so that the faint light +that filtered through the murky darkness from the cavern’s mouth dimly +illuminated my countenance, and as he watched the streams of +perspiration falling in drops from the end of my nose his frown relaxed +and a broad grin spread over his handsome features. + +“You’re all right this time,” he added “I calculate that I’ve melted all +the ice in your bellows, so just creep up tha’ and sweat a bit more to +make it slick and sartin that we’ve beat the White Death this trip.” I +did as he said, not because I wanted to sweat but because habit made me +obey the commands of my guide. + +Evidently this cavern had been in constant use by some sort of animals +as a sort of stable for many, many years, and I have had sweeter +couches, but by this time my rough life had transformed me into +something of a wild animal myself, and it was not long before I was +comfortably dozing. During the time that I slept I was dimly conscious +of being surrounded by a crowd of people; as the absurdity of this +forced itself through my sleep-befuddled brain and I opened wide my +eyes, what I saw made me open my eyes still wider. + +I was about to start to my feet when I felt Big Pete’s restraining hand +on my shoulder, and not until then did I realize that the cave was +crowded with the shaggy white Rocky Mountain goats, and not weird, +white-bearded old men. Few persons can truly say that they have been +within arm’s length of a flock of these timid and almost unapproachable +animals; but we had invaded their secret place of refuge, and they had +not, as yet, taken alarm at our presence in their castle. It may be that +the frozen fog had driven the goats to the cavern for shelter, and it is +possible that never having been hunted by man, these animals feared the +White Death more than they did human beings, and did not realize the +dangerous character of their present visitors; whatever the cause of +their temerity, the fact remains that men and goats slept that night in +the cavern together. + +I did not awake next morning until after the departure of the goats and +opened my eyes to find myself alone in the cavern. + +Having all my clothes on, no time was wasted at my toilet, but I made my +way directly to the doorway and was gratified to discover that Big Pete +was roasting some kid chops over the hot embers of a fire. + +After breakfasting on the remains of the kid, Big Pete arose and scanned +the sky, the horizon and the mountain tops, and turning to me said, +“Now, Le-loo, that Wild Hunter-b’ar-wolf man has fooled us by doubling +on his trail an’ as it hain’t him we’re after now but the trail out of +the mountains, I mean to go by sens-see-ation, but you must keep yer +meat-trap shut and not speak, ’cause soon as I know I’m a man I hain’t +got no more sense than a man. I must say to myself, ‘Now, Pete, you’re a +varmint and varmints know their way even in a new country.’ Then I just +sense things and trots along ’til I come out all right.” + +I had often heard of this wonderful instinct of direction, the homing +instinct of the pigeon, which some Indians, Africans, Australian black +boys and a few white men still possess; I say still possess because it +is evident that it was once our common heritage, a sort of sixth sense +which has been lost by disuse. That Big Pete possessed this sixth sense +I little doubted, and it was with absorbing interest that I watched the +man work himself into the proper state of mind. + +For quite a time he stood sniffing the air and looking around him while +his body swayed with a slow motion. Then suddenly, as if he had seen +something or as if answering the call of something, he started off +almost at right angles to our trail, acting very much like a hound on an +old scent, but keeping up a pace that tried my endurance. + +It was truly wonderful the way this man, in a trance-like state, was +guided by an invisible power over the most dangerous ground, but no one, +after a careful survey, could have selected a better trail than that +chosen by Big Pete. On and on we went, scrambling over rock-skirting +precipices and crumbling ledges. A dense fog settled around us, making +each step hazardous, but with an instinct as true and apparently +identical with that of our four-footed brothers, my guide kept the same +rapid pace for hours, and then, all of a sudden, came to an abrupt stop. + +For several seconds he stood in his tracks, his body keeping the same +swaying motion, but after a short while he crept cautiously forward in +the fog, with me at his heels, and we found ourselves at the edge of a +giant fault, similar to the one in Darlinkel Park, but there was +apparently no pass to let us down the towering precipices to the valley +below. + +“Well, that was a wonderful trip,” I cried. + +“Shut up!” shouted Pete savagely, but I had spoken and the spell was +broken; reason, not instinct, must now lead us. + +Vapor and clouds concealed the low grounds from our view; however, we +were determined not to spend another night in the mountains, so while I +rested and regained my breath, Big Pete went on to explore the ledges. + +Presently my guide hove in sight and motioned me to follow him; he led +me to a place where another goat trail went over the edge of the +precipice, this time not in ten and fifteen feet jumps, but by a steep +diagonal path. Down the treacherous trail we slipped and slid with a +wall of rocks on one side and death in the form of a bluish white space +on the other side. + +As we were clambering carefully around the face of a big rock Pete +suddenly whispered that he smelt a “Painter,” and upon peering around +the corner we found ourselves face to face with a large cat; the animal +was crouching upon a flat-topped projecting stone immediately in our +path. That it was not the puma of the low-lands, its reddish-colored +coat and great size proclaimed. It was a so-called mountain lion and a +grand specimen of its kind. + +The cat’s small head lay between its muscular forepaws, its hair adhered +closely to its body, its long tail was full and round and waved slowly +from side to side, while its eyes gleamed like electric sparks. + +We were in a most awkward position; our guns were swung by straps over +our backs, so that we might use our hands, and we were clinging to the +face of the big rock while our toes were seeking foothold in the +treacherous shale of the trail. To loosen our hands was to fall +backwards into the bluish white sea of unknown depths, and to retrace +our steps was out of the question. + +Pete often expressed the opinion that no predaceous creature, from a +spider up to a cougar, will attack its prey while the latter is +immovable. + +As a corollary to this proposition he said that when a person is +suddenly confronted by a dangerous wild beast, the safest plan to pursue +is to remain perfectly quiet, or, as he quaintly put it, “to peetrify +yourself in the wink of an eye.” + +Truth to tell, on this occasion I found no difficulty in following his +directions. I was “peetrified” by fear; my feet were cold and numb, +chills in wavelets washed up and down my spine, a sudden rash seemed to +be breaking out all over my body and the skin on my back felt as if it +had been converted into goose-flesh. + +Had we been able to travel a few feet further we would have both found a +comparatively safe footing and had our arms free and a fighting chance +with the big catamount in place of hanging suspended to the face of the +rock like two big, helpless, terrified bats. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +With an imperceptible movement, as steady and almost as slow as that of +a glacier, my guide twisted his neck until his face was turned from the +puma and the side of the mouth pressed against the flat surface of his +rock. I was crowded up against Big Pete, who occupied a position but +slightly in advance and a little above me. My agony of fear having +somewhat subsided I ventured to steal a momentary glance at my comrade’s +face. To my unutterable surprise I discovered a whimsical twinkling at +the corners of his eyes and a mirthful expression of mischief in his +countenance. This was incomprehensible to me, for I could imagine no +more awe-inspiring position than the one we then occupied. + +While my thoughts were still busy trying to fathom the cause of Pete’s +untimely mirth, the long-drawn howl of the big timber wolf floated over +the valley and sent a new lot of shivers down my back. It was the +rallying call used by the wolves to call the band together when game is +in sight. The sound increased in volume until it reverberated among the +crags like the voice of a winter’s storm, and then it gradually died +away. Big Pete was not only a good mimic but he proved himself to be a +ventriloquist of no mean ability; by the help of the rock against which +his cheek was pressed he had been able to throw his voice off into space +in such a manner that it baffled me for several moments. + +The gray wolves are old and inveterate enemies of the panther or cougar, +hunting the cats on all occasions. Consequently all panthers know the +meaning of that wild lonesome howl, the assembling call, as well as the +oldest wolf in the pack, and its effect upon the lion in our path was +instantaneous. The hair, which had a moment before been as slick as if +it were oiled, now rose upright until the fuzzy hide gave the animal’s +body the appearance of being twice its original size. + +Scarcely had the big cat vacated the path before we scrambled to the +firm foothold and I breathed a great sigh of relief when it was reached. +But Big Pete was convulsed with suppressed laughter at the practical +joke he had played on the mountain lion. + +“Gosh darn my magnolia breath! That painter went as if he had a ball of +hot rorrum tied to his tail,” cried my guide. + +It was difficult for me to realize that it was Big Pete himself who had +given vent to that shuddering howl, and now the danger was over I +pleaded with him to give another exhibition of his skill in wolf calls. + +The good-natured fellow at first seemed reluctant to repeat his +performance, but at length consented and put his hands to his mouth, +forming a trumpet, then bent forward his body, stooping so low that his +face was was below his waist, after which he began again that wild cry +which so closely resembles in sentiment and tone the shriek of the wind. +As the sound increased in volume the man waved his head from side to +side; continuing the movement he gradually assumed an upright pose, and +ended by making a low obeisance as the sound died away. + +The imitation was perfect and I was expressing my delight and +appreciation when my ear caught a distant sound which put a sudden stop +to our conversation. + +Was it the wind which I now heard? No! there was not a breath of air +stirring, neither was it an echo. There could be no doubt about it, the +long-drawn sepulchral howl which filled and permeated the shivering air +was an answering cry to Big Pete’s call. + +Scarcely had the sound waves faded away when in the mysterious distance +came another and another answer, until it seemed as if a troop of lost +souls were vocalizing their misery. I unslung my gun and loosened my +revolvers in their fringed holsters, but Big Pete only shrugged his +shoulders and said, + +“Come, let’s be moseying. ’Taint nothin’ but wolves.” A fact of which I +was as well aware of as Pete, but I, tenderfoot that I was, could not +treat howling of wolves with the same unconcern as did my guide. + +We soon reached a point where the goat trail turned again up the +mountain and we forsook that ancient path for a diagonal fracture very +similar to the one by which we had ascended, which led down the face of +the precipice “slantendicularwise,” Big Pete said, and soon plunged into +the bluish gray sea which filled the valley. We were now enveloped in a +dense fog, which added materially to the dangers of the journey. I had +had so many thrills in the last few moments that my nerves were becoming +dull and failed to vibrate on this occasion, so that descending the +cliff in a fog by a diagonal fracture in the rock became only an +incident of our journey; this trail, however, was wider than the one by +which we ascended. + +The Rocky Mountains are full of new sensations and I got a new one when +I discovered that the fog through which we had been traveling was in +reality a cloud, and, all unexpectedly, we emerged into the clear mellow +light below the floating vapor. It was an enchanting scene which met our +eyes; below us stretched a beautiful valley. + +For the first time in months I saw a human habitation. The blue smoke +from the chimney ascended slowly in a tall column and then floated +horizontally in stratified layers. There were fields of ripe grain, +orchards, groves, pasture lands and a winding stream fringed with +poplars, which flowed in a tortuous course across the valley. As I +feasted my eyes on the peaceful scene a great longing took possession of +my soul. + +Big Pete, too, was lost in thought, conjured up by the scene below us. +He stood leaning on his rifle with his eyes fixed on the enchanting +picture; so full of unconscious dignity was his pose, so immovable stood +the mountain man that he looked like a grand statue done by a master +hand. + +But what thoughts were conjured up in the guide’s brain by the +unexpected sight of this ranch could not be interpreted from the +expression of his countenance, for that showed no more trace of emotion +than an American Indian at the torture stake, or the marble face of a +Greek god. Presently he shifted his pose, threw back his head, and Big +Pete’s eyes were fixed on the valley in front of us, as with distended +nostrils he sniffed the mountain air, his brows contracted to a frown, +his eyes lost their gentle angelic look and seemed to change from China +blue to a cold steel color, and his tightly closed mouth had a stern +expression about the corners which appeared altogether out of keeping +with the occasion. + +“Rot my hide!” he exclaimed, “if I hain’t had a neighbor all these years +and never knowed it. Waugh! Some emigrant—terrification seize him!—has +found another park an’ squatted, t’ain’t more’n eight miles as a crow +flies from mine, nuther, Le-loo.” He looked at the sun and muttered. +“Hang me, but ’tis t’other end of my own park,” then he paused a moment +and added fiercely, “if these geysers know when they are well off, +they’ll steer shy of Darlinkel Park. If I catch ’em scoutin’ ’round my +claim, I’ll send ’em a-hoppin’.” + +“Bless me, you are neighborly,” exclaimed a voice in smooth, even tones. + +“What!” said Pete, looking sternly at me. “Did you speak?” + +“I said nothing,” I replied. + +Big Pete’s countenance changed and he ran his hands over the cartridges +in his belt in the old familiar manner, and with a motion quicker than I +can describe it, whipped out his revolvers and wheeled about face, at +the same time snapping out the words, “Throw up your hands!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +We were standing on the surface of a flat table-rock, which jutted out +from the face of the towering cliff and overhung the valley that was +spread out like a map beneath us. About twenty feet back from the edge +of the rock was a pile of debris heaped up against the face of the +cliff; but the remaining surface of the stone was clean bare and +weather-beaten. The talus against the cliff was composed of loose +fragments of stone and other products of wash and erosion. This was +overgrown with a thicket of stunted shrubs, wry-necked goblin thistles +and murderous devil’s clubs. These bludgeon-shaped plants, thickly +covered with sharp thorns, reared aloft their weapons as if in menace to +all living things; the unstable ground and thorny thicket formed the +only shelter where we could be ambushed in the rear, and it was not a +likely spot to be chosen for such a purpose by man or beast. + +When Big Pete wheeled about face with his trusty revolvers in hand, I +quickly followed his example, and our mutual surprise may be imagined +when we found ourselves gazing in the faces of a semicircle of gigantic +wolves. The animals were squatting on their haunches at the foot of the +talus, their wicked slant eyes fixed upon us and their red tongues +lolling out from their cavernous mouths. + +I cannot tell why, whether it was the state of my nerves or the effect +of the rare air of the high altitude, or what, but I felt no fear at +facing this strange wolf pack. Indeed, to me they appeared all to be +laughing and their red tongues lolled from their open mouths in a very +humorous fashion. + +The whole scene appeared to me to be exceedingly funny and, in a spirit +of utter reckless bravado, I doffed my fur cap, with exaggerated +politeness made a low bow, and, addressing the largest and most +devilish-looking wolf in the pack, exclaimed, + +“Ah! this is Monsieur Loup-Garou, I believe. Pardon me, Monsieur, but +did you speak a moment since?” + +But Big Pete Darlinkel looked at the wolves, and great beads of sweat +stood on his forehead. It was his turn to have the shivers. There was no +more color in his face than in a peeled turnip. His gun shook in his +left hand like a aspen, while the spangled gun in his right hand dropped +its muzzle towards earth and there was scarcely strength enough in his +nerveless fingers to have pulled a hair-trigger. + +Pete’s great baby-blue eyes turned helplessly to me; but it was now my +innings, and with a cheery voice I cried, + +“Why, Pete, old fellow, what ails you?” Then meanly quoting his own +words, I added, “They hain’t nothing but wolves!” + +There is not a shadow of a doubt that Pete expected the wolves to answer +me with human voice, and I am willing to confess that, even to me, +there seemed to be no other alternative for the slant-eyed bandits to +pursue. But for the present they appeared to prefer to maintain a solemn +silence. + +The middle wolf had been looking intently at us for some time before a +well-modulated voice said, + +“I have answered your call, gentlemen; how can I serve you?” + +I was more than half expecting some such answer, but if it had not been +so evident that Big Pete was badly frightened and had lost all his +self-possession, I should have thought he was again practising his art +as ventriloquist. + +Of course I deceived myself. The wolves had no more power of speech than +a house-dog. But I really thought the wolves were doing the talking +until I caught sight of a tall man of handsome and distinguished +appearance seated among the weird goblin-thistles just above the wolves. +The stranger appeared to be a man of almost any age; he might be young +but, if old, he was wonderfully well preserved. He was clad in a +light-colored buckskin suit of clothes, edged and trimmed with fur, a +fur cap on his head and moccasins on his feet. And I noticed, with a +start, that he had that same red porcupine quill ornament on his hunting +shirt that the young Indian wore. + +When I saw how his dress blended perfectly with his surroundings I +excused myself for not sooner detecting him. I could not help but admire +his easy grace and the sense of reserved strength in his strong figure. +The calmness and repose forcibly reminded me of the mountain lion we had +lately encountered. + +“You kin hackle me and card my sinews, if it hain’t the Wild Hunter +himself an’ his pack,” said Big Pete under his breath. + +The color now began to return to his face and at the recollection of his +late rude words the big fellow blushed like a school girl. Gradually he +recovered his self-possession, and, doffing his cap, made a low bow as +graceful and as courtly as that of any polished courtier. This was an +entirely new side to my friend’s character and I listened with interest +when he said, + +“Sir, whether you be loup-garou, werwolf, witch-b’ar or all them to +onct, I do not care. What I want ter say is ef that tha’ ranch yander be +your’n, you may hamstring me ef I hain’t proud to have such a man for a +neighbor. Whatever else you be yore no shavetail or shorthorn, an’ +that’s howsomever. I don’t mind sayin’ that yore a better shot an’ all +around hunter an’ mountain man than Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, Davy +Crockett, Kit Carson, Bison McClean and Jim Baker all rolled in one. +Yore the slickest woodsman on the divide. I’m powerful proud of you as a +neighbor and would be still prouder ef I might call you my friend.” + +Our strange visitor displayed a beautiful white set of teeth as a frank +smile played over his smooth face. But his only answer at that moment +was an inclination of his head and a muttered command to the wolves, +which they instantly obeyed by silently disappearing in the underbrush. + +After a pause the tall stranger came forward, and, removing his own cap, +made a bow even more courtly than that of Big Pete, as he thus replied: +“Sir, I feel highly honored at this flattering expression of +commendation. I can honestly say that it is the greatest compliment I +have ever received from a stranger, and,” he added with another winning +smile, “you are the first stranger with whom I have held converse in +nearly twenty years. That I am not unfriendly I have already proved by +some trifling services, but the honor of the acquaintance is mine.” + +After the formalities of our meeting were over the stranger stood for a +few moments with his chin resting on his breast. He was evidently +thinking over some serious subject. His head was bare, his fur cap being +in his hands, and his hands locked behind his back. A mass of light +colored hair fell over his forehead and shoulders. + +Presently he looked at us again, with that same grave smile on his face, +and said that if we would consent to be blindfolded and trust ourselves +implicitly to his care, he would be glad to take us to his home and +would feel honored if we should choose to visit him. + +“You can proceed no further on this trail for it ends here, and not even +a goat can go beyond the rock on which we stand, therefore we must +retrace our steps a few hundred yards,” he explained, as he apologized +for his strange proposition. He securely bandaged our eyes with our own +handkerchiefs, and after turning us around until I at least had lost all +sense of direction, he placed thongs in our hands, and then we +discovered that we were to be led by some sort of animals, presumably +wolves. Whatever else they were, they proved to be careful and sagacious +leaders. + +After a short distance of rough climbing where we constantly needed the +personal help of our mysterious host, we began to descend and soon our +feet told us that we were traveling on a comparatively smooth though +steep trail. Now and again our guide would speak to warn us of stones or +other obstructions in our path, but, with the exception of these +necessary words of caution and brief words expressing approval or +reproof to the animals, we made the journey in silence and in due time +reached the bottom, and our feet told us that we were walking on a level +shale-covered path. + +At this point the creatures leading us were dismissed and we could hear +them scrambling back over the trail. We heard the bleating of sheep, the +lowing of cattle and all the multiplicity of noises so familiar on a +well-stocked farm, and we could easily detect the different odors as +familiar and characteristic as the noises. We enjoyed to its fullest +extent the novelty of the homely sensations aroused by the smell of +new-mown hay and the familiar medley of sounds peculiar to the farm. + +In due time we found ourselves at the foot of a couple of wooden steps, +which we ascended, and, crossing a broad veranda, entered a doorway. +Here we stood awaiting further commands in utter ignorance of our +surroundings. Of course, we surmised we were in the ranch house which we +saw from the table rock, but this was only a surmise. + +“Gentlemen,” said the strange old man, “you are welcome to my home, and +allow me to add that you are the only white men who have ever crossed +the threshold of this house.” + +As he ceased speaking he removed the bandages from our eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +It was a strange place, indeed, in which I found myself. Our eyes were +unbandaged after we entered the portal of the ranch house, and when Big +Pete and I turned toward our guide, we were facing in a direction that +gave us a sweeping view of the entire ranch. And what we saw made us +marvel. + +This farm, between the towering, almost insurmountable mountains, had +evidently been wrenched from what two decades before had been as much of +a wilderness as the Darlinkel Park across the divide. Timber clothed the +mountains on either hand but the fertile valley bottom was as rural as a +district of the middle west. On one hand stretched acres and acres of +ripened grain. Beyond was pasture land dotted with strange whitefaced +animals, which later proved to be hybrid buffalos, a strange cross +between wild and domestic cattle.[3] In other pastures and on the +hillsides I could see goats and sheep, and these too were evidently a +cross breed of wild and domestic stock, the goats having a very strange +resemblance to the fleet-footed shaggy old fellows we had seen on the +mountains, while the sheep closely resembled usual domestic sheep. + + [Footnote 3: Since that time the late Buffalo Jones has bred + buffalo and domestic cattle and called the offspring “catelow.”] + +There were stables, too, and corrals, all made of logs, as was the ranch +house, but what seemed very strange to me was the fact that there were +no horses in sight. All of the animals at work in the fields were those +strange hybrid buffalo-oxen, all save one, a single, lame and apparently +almost blind burro that I saw lying in the sun. From his grayness about +the head I had little doubt that he was of great age. + +There were hordes of strange poultry too,—strange to me at least, for +never had I expected to find flocking together wild turkeys, Canadian +geese, black ducks, wood ducks, and mallards (all with wings clipped so +that they never again could fly), sage hens, quail, spruce-grouse, +partridge, ptarmigan and western mountain quail. All seemed perfectly at +home and comfortably domesticated. + +Beyond the poultry houses was still another outhouse, a long, low, log +building before which was a lawn. On the lawn were all manner of perches +and roosts and on these, sunning themselves and preening their feathers, +were several types of predaceous birds, ranging from huge and powerful +female eagles to smaller hawks and true falcons. This evidently was the +Wild Hunter’s falconry. + +Another thing that made an instant impression upon me was the number of +men at work about the place. The workmen were all, without an exception, +Indians, and as they moved about silently, their stoic, almost +expressionless faces held a decided look of contentment, a few of them +turned toward the porch with a frank, honest stare. There was no +evidence of fear or restraint in their actions but they always gave the +wolf dogs plenty of room as they passed them. These black beasts were +ugly, snarling things that showed no love for anyone; on the least +provocation menacing growls rumbled in their throats. + +What manner of place was this that we had permitted ourselves to be led +into? Indeed, what manner of man was this strange host of ours? I shot a +sidelong glance at him and it seemed to me as if I caught a strange, +hunted look in his eyes, and a sad smile on his handsome but grim +countenance. A slight feeling of fear crept into my heart. Could this +strange man be my father? For some reason he certainly did attract me +and excite my sympathy, yet I stood in awe of him. The strangeness of my +surroundings, too, settled upon me. I turned toward Pete and I had a +premonition of evil. I could see that he too was affected the same way. +The valley was an earthly paradise, the Wild Hunter a kindly gentleman, +what then was it that gave me an uncomfortable and uneasy feeling? I +was eager to be alone with Pete for I knew that he would have some +interesting observations to make. + +“I am disappointed, gentlemen, you say nothing. Isn’t my ranch +interesting to you?” demanded the Wild Hunter, with a smile. In a low +smooth voice he gave some orders to a young Indian who was walking +toward the stables. The Indian instantly snapped into action and hurried +away as if one of the black wolf dogs were snapping at his heels, and I +felt certain that it was the youth whom we had been trailing. + +A hurried and very unpleasant thought flashed through my mind: What was +the source of the power the Wild Hunter held over these Indians? They +were not slaves in this mountain-surrounded prison; this grim, forceful +but kindly wild man did not hold them through fear. He always smiled +when he greeted them, but he never smiled at his wolves; when giving +them orders or even looking at them, the expression of his face was +stern and almost fierce. But the man had asked a question. He was +expecting an answer. + +“It is a wonderful place,” I managed to stammer; “who could conceive of +such a remarkable ranch buried here in the heart of the wilderness?” + +“It’s a ring-tailed snorter, hamstring me if it hain’t,” said Big Pete +in an attempt to be enthusiastic. + +The man’s face glowed with pleasure. + +“You are the first white men to see it. I think I have achieved +something here in the wilds, thanks a great deal to Pluto and his +strain.” + +“Eh, what?” exclaimed Big Pete in alarm. + +“To—to—whom,” I gasped, for to have the man actually confess an +alliance with Satan rather startled me also. + +The Wild Hunter chuckled in an amused manner. + +“Thanks to Pluto, I said. But Pluto is that black wolf-dog over there, +nevertheless. I think that the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character to a +nicety.” + +He pointed to the massive, deep-chested, long-haired, long-limbed, +vicious looking leader of his black wolf pack where it was chained to a +post. The great animal glared at his master when his name was mentioned. +He crouched twenty feet away with his slanting green eyes fixed +constantly on his master’s face and in them ever flared a fierce, wicked +fire. + +“Yes, you son of Satan, you and your hybrid whelps have helped me do all +this in spite of the fact that you hate me, and would love to tear me +limb from limb. You splendid, ugly brute, you are insensible to +kindness!” + +I noticed that whenever he looked the wolf in the face his own +countenance became grim and his eyes exceedingly fierce and not unlike +the wolf itself in expression. + +[Illustration: “I think the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character to a +nicety”] + +“He hates me,” he continued, turning to us, “because of his ancestors. +In him is the blood of a Great Dane noted for its strength, size and +ferocity, a fierce brute which I brought over the mountains with me many +years ago. Pluto’s mother was a pure black wolf of a mean disposition, +and his father the half-breed son of a Great Dane and a she-wolf. He is +the fiercest and most bloodthirsty beast in the whole pack, he hates me +with the intense hatred of his wolfish nature, he hates me because he +knows that I am the master of the pack, the real leader, and he is +jealous. Since his puppy days he has watched for a chance to kill me; +twice he nearly succeeded—the time will no doubt come when it will be +his life or mine. Yet because of his wonderful strength, endurance and +sagacity, I could almost love him. + +“His breed does not want to recognize any master. But _I am_ his +master!” cried the Wild Hunter as his eyes flashed and he struck himself +on his chest, “and he knows it. The only way, however, that I keep my +power over him and his pack is by forcing myself to think every time I +speak to them, now I am going to _kill you_, and brutes though they are +they can read my mind and fear me. Besides which self-interest helps a +little towards their loyalty. With me for a leader there is always a +kill at the end of the hunt, and they know that they come in for a share +of the food. + +“Sometimes I fear the wolves will break loose and attack my Indians, +which I would very much regret, for the Redmen are faithful fellows and +we form a happy community. The Indians look upon me as Big Medicine +because I can control these medicine wolves.” + +Big Pete looked at the man with open admiration, a man who by the sheer +power of his will could control a band of wolves, any one of which was +powerful enough to kill an ox, certainly was a man to please the wild +nature of Big Pete. “But,” said Pete, “you say Pluto has helped you. +How?” he asked. + +“How,” exclaimed the Wild Hunter, “why, gentlemen, by governing the pack +as savage as himself. The pack is the secret of my whole success; my +power over them first won the allegiance of the Indians, won their +admiration and their respect. They know that I could turn those wolves +upon them at any moment, but they also know that I would not think of +doing such an act and they are human and love me; the wolves are brutes +and not susceptible to kindness. The wolves hate the Redmen as they hate +me, but they supplied us all with food, they secured for us our winter +meat while the men worked to build houses and clear the land, and thus +made it possible for us to start this settlement. They even acted as +pack animals for us, each of them carrying as much as seventy pounds in +weight on their backs. But be on your guard, gentlemen, be on your +guard! Remember that you are strangers to the wolves and they will not +hesitate, if the opportunity offers, to rend you and even devour you.” + +A moment later his expression changed. + +“Enough of this,” he exclaimed in pleasanter tones, “come, dinner is +served,” and turning, he led the way through the broad doorway of the +log ranch house into an almost sumptuously furnished dining room where +two silent, soft-footed Indians began immediately to serve a truly +remarkable meal. + +“He may be lo-coed,” whispered Pete to me as we took our places at the +table, “but I’ll tell the folks, he is a master looney alright. He knows +how to make Injuns love him and varmints fear him, he kin pack all his +duffle in my bag, he need not cough up eny money when he’s with me. +Reckon we be alright here, but waugh! we’ve gotter watch tha’ black wolf +pack!—yes and also that young Indian whose ram you shot; it seems he +looks after the wolves and sees to it that they are fastened up in their +corral. I wouldn’t want him to be sort of careless, you know.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +What a dining room that was! All of logs, high ceilinged, with smoked +rafters stained like an old meerschaum pipe. It reminded me of a wealthy +man’s hunting lodge in Maine, perhaps, rather than the abode of a wild +man. There was a huge yawning fireplace at one end, above which was the +finest specimen of an elk’s head I have ever seen. There were other +heads, too, prong-horned antelope, beautiful bison heads, remarkable +specimens of bighorn sheep and mountain goats, there were buffalo robes +and wolf robes strewn over the floor, and there were abundant well +stocked gun cases on every hand. + +But conspicuous among the collection of firearms was one, kept apart, +polished and cleaned, and on a rack made of elk horns handily placed +just above the big mantle. It was beautifully though not elaborately +made, with a fine damascus barrel of tremendous length, a lock and set +trigger that showed expert handicraft, and stock of beautifully polished +birds-eye maple. An expert would have known immediately that it was a +first-water product of an expert gunsmith. + +Big Pete noticed it as soon as I did and he could not keep his eyes from +roving to it occasionally during the meal. + +“You may scalp me, stranger, fer sayin’ it, but I’d like mightily well +to heft that tha’ shooting iron o’ your’n and examine it when we git +through with chuck,” he said. + +Our strange host looked up at the rifle, then searchingly at Big Pete. + +“I don’t mind showing it to you, but you must not touch it,” he said +finally. + +“I reckon I wouldn’t hurt it none. I’ve handled guns before,” said Big +Pete shortly, and I could see that he was piqued at the man’s attitude. + +“Guess you wouldn’t, but I’ve made it a rule never to let strange hands +touch that rifle,” said the strange man, and there was a grimness about +his tone that forbade quibbling. + +“Huh, well I can’t say as perhaps yore not right about yore shootin’ +hardware at that,” said Pete. Then after glancing at it again, he added, +“a hunter’s gun and a woodsman’s ax should never be trusted in strange +hands. Bet a ten spot it’s a Patrick Mullen. Hain’t it?” + +The name of my kinsman, the famous gunsmith, brought a sudden +realization that Mullen was my own family name. + +The mention of the gunsmith seemed also to have a curious effect on the +old man. His face grew red under the tan and his brow wrinkled and I +could see his cold blue eyes scrutinizing Big Pete closely. Finally he +said bluntly, + +“It is, and it’s worth a thousand dollars.” + +“A thousand dollars!” I exclaimed, “a thousand dollars?” + +“Yes,” cried the old man almost fiercely, “yes, yes, and it is my gun. +He gave it to me, he did—to me and not to Donald. He—” + +He stood up suddenly as if he intended to stride over and seize the gun, +to protect it from us but as quickly sat down again and buried his face +in his hands, and I could see him biting his lips as if he were +attempting to control his feeling. + +As for me, quite suddenly a great light seemed to dawn. This strange old +man was mentioning names that were familiar—that meant worlds to me. I +leaned toward him eagerly. Big Pete stood quietly listening, a silent +but interested spectator. + +“Did you know Donald Mullen, a brother to the famous gunsmith? Tell me, +did you know him? I have come all the way—” + +I stopped in wonder. Never in all my life do I ever expect to witness +such a pitiful expression of anguish pictured so vividly on the human +countenance as it was on the face of the Wild Hunter. + +“What,” he whispered, “did you know him?” + +“He was my father,” I answered simply. + +For a moment the Wild Hunter looked at me intently, then said, “I +believe you, you favor him somewhat.” He then came forward as if to +shake my hand, but changed his mind and sat down with a forced and wan +smile. + +“Did I know Don Mullen? Did I? He was my partner, my bunkee for many +years and on many prospecting trips, a better bunkee no man ever had, +but he is dead now, dead! dead! dead! been dead for a dozen years. He +was killed by an avalanche. A better partner no man ever had,” he +murmured and relaxed into silence. + +My efforts to get more information of my parents were of no avail. The +Wild Hunter turned the conversation in other directions. + +Of course, the knowledge that my real father was dead, had been dead a +long time, caused me a feeling of sadness, yet strangely enough the +little knowledge that I had gleaned from this strange old man brought a +sense of relief to me. I think that it must have been a certain sense +of satisfaction to know that this queer man was not my father. + +But if he was not Donald Mullen, who was he? That question kept me +pondering and for the rest of the meal I was silent, speculating on this +strange situation, nor did I have an opportunity to note, as Big Pete +did, the tearful, kindly glances that the Wild Hunter shot at me now and +then. + +Still, for all, he was sociable, extremely sociable, and talkative, too, +but I fancy now as I recall it, he was simply keeping the conversation +in safe channels, for it was very apparent that the rifle and his former +mining partner were painful subjects. + +Dinner over, we all went out onto the porch of the ranch house, where we +talked while the twilight lasted. At least Big Pete and the Wild Hunter +talked as they smoked two of those mysterious long cigars, but I was +still silent because of the many strange thoughts that were romping +through my mind. + +Soon darkness settled down and Big Pete began to yawn. I also was +heavy-eyed, and presently the Wild Hunter clapped his hands and summoned +a leather-skinned old Indian to whom he gave brief low command in the +Mewan Indian tongue, as I was afterwards informed by Big Pete, then +turning to us he said in his fascinating soft voice: + +“It will probably be a novelty for both of you gentlemen to again sleep +in a bed between sheets and under a roof. I doubt whether you will enjoy +it even though the sheets are clean linen which were spun and woven by +my noble Indians. Moose Ear, here, will conduct you to your rooms and I +will take a turn about the place before retiring to see that all is +well, and also to see that my black wolf pack is securely confined +within the wolf corral. This is a precaution, gentlemen, which I take +every night, because a wolf is a wolf no matter how well trained he may +be upon the surface, and night is the time wolves delight to run. These +beasts are especially dangerous to strangers and it is for that reason I +am putting you in the house in place of allowing you to camp outdoors, +as I know you would prefer to do. Good-night, gentlemen, see that the +doors are closed. Pleasant dreams.” + +As we said good-night to him I wondered vaguely if the wolf pen was +securely built, for it seemed to me that I detected a suggestion of +doubt in the mind of the Wild Hunter himself. I little realized, +however, the horrors the darkness had in store for us. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Moose Ear, the silent, wrinkled old Indian, with lighted candles made of +buffalo tallow, guided Big Pete and me up the broad skilfully built +puncheon stairway to the upper story of the surprisingly large ranch +house, where he showed us to our rooms, rooms which were a joy to look +upon. Each was furnished with a heavy, hand-made four-posted bedstead, +which in spite of the massiveness was beautifully made, and I wondered +at the patience of the Wild Hunter in teaching the Indians their +craftmanship. + +The other furniture in the room was also hand wrought, as were the fiber +rugs on the floor and the checked homespun blankets on the beds. There +was a harmonious and pleasing effect; the rooms were cheerful, abounding +in evidences of Indian handicraft. Beadwork and embroidery of dyed +porcupine quills were prevalent, even the tester which roofed the +four-post bedstead was ornamented with fringes of buckskin and designs +made of beads and porcupine quills. The chairs and floors were +plentifully supplied with fur rugs, and the quaint, old-fashioned +appearance of the room in nowise detracted from its comfort or even +luxury. + +If it had not been for the uncomfortable thought of that pack of black +wolves outside, I am sure I would have been supremely happy at the +prospect of once more spending a night between clean and cool sheets and +a real feather pillow on which to rest my head. Eagerly and almost +excitedly I threw off my clothes and donned the long, linen nightshirt +with which old Moose Ear had provided me. Then I put the buckhorn +extinguisher over the candle and dove into the feather bed as gleefully +as a child on Christmas Eve. + +I expected to immediately fall asleep, but there is where I made a +mistake; my mind would not cease working, the wheels in my head kept +buzzing and would not stop. I was as wide awake as a codfish; the bed +was comfortable, too comfortable, but tired though I was I felt no +inclination to sleep. I thought it was the strangeness of my +surroundings which kept me tossing from side to side, but I soon +realized that the trouble was to be found in the fact that for months I +had only had the sky for my roof, never using our tents or open faced +shack except in bad weather; but here, the ornamented tester of the bed +and the ceiling itself seemed to be resting on my chest; in spite of the +wide open windows the room seemed stuffy and oppressive. I felt as if I +would suffocate. + +Twice I got up and sat by the open window and gazed out at the black +landscape. The sky was cloudy and there were no stars; this combined +with the pine trees about the ranch house made the darkness so black and +thick that it seemed as if one might cut it in chunks, with a knife. The +air felt good to breathe but I did not propose to sit by the window all +night so at last I arose, put moccasins on my feet and, taking my +blankets with me, stole stealthily down the stairs, opened the front +door and made my bed on the floor of the broad piazza. I had not +forgotten the warning to keep indoors, but I thought I would rather risk +the wolves than to smother all night. + +In the darkness I discovered another occupant of the piazza also rolled +up in a blanket taken from a bed in the house. Feeling with my hands I +discovered that it was Big Pete. Comfortably settling myself in my +blanket I felt the breeze from the mountain blowing over my face and +through my hair, and it soothed me until I dropped off into gentle +slumber; but during the months I had been sleeping in the open I had +learned the art, as the saying is, of sleeping with one eye open. In +this case, however, if the eye had really been wide open it could have +seen nothing because of the darkness, but the darkness did not interfere +with my ability to hear, and after I had been sleeping awhile I found +myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in my blankets with beads of +perspiration on my forehead and that terrible sensation of horror which +one experiences in a nightmare. I knew that I had heard something, but +what? + +The oppressive silence of the wilderness made the valley appear as if +Nature was holding her breath for a moment before giving voice to an +explosion of sound. I sensed impending disaster of some sort. What it +was I could not guess, but was convinced that something was about to +happen. + +As I held my breath and listened, the ranch house was silent; even Pete +had not, apparently, awakened, but I could not hear his regular +breathing. Now I thought I could detect a soft and very faint noise as +of some large body creeping over the puncheon steps. I also imagined I +detected the noise of padded feet and the scraping noise of claws on the +wood. A shudder ran through me. Was a panther, a mountain lion, about to +spring upon me? No, I abandoned the thought and instinctively I knew +that it must be one of the black wolf pack. Then I remembered hearing +the cracking and breaking of sticks or timber while I was trying to +sleep in the bedroom, and I felt that Pluto had broken out of the pen +and was creeping up on us slowly and stealthily as I have seen a fox +creep up on a covey of quail. + +Would the beast presently hurl its terrible form upon me, or on Big +Pete? I attempted to warn my friend, but my tongue clung to the roof of +my mouth and for the moment I was powerless and speechless, subdued by a +combination of fear of the real beast and superstitious fear of the +fabulous werwolf or loup-garou,[4] but the next moment I pulled myself +together, mastered my trembling limbs, rolled softly out of my blankets, +and gun in hand wormed my way toward the spot where Big Pete lay, +determined to sell my life dearly. With Big Pete beside me, now that I +was thoroughly awake, I would fight all the werwolves of the old world +and all the loup-garous of Canada. I reached out and felt for Pete but +he was not there, the blankets were empty; once or twice I thought I +detected the glint of the wolves’ eyes, but the night was very dark and +in the shadow of the roof I could really see nothing. + + [Footnote 4: A werwolf, or loup-garou, is a legendary man who, + it was formerly believed, could at will take on the form and + nature of a wolf.] + +Closer and closer sounded the stealthy, dragging noise, and I heard a +hand feel softly for the latch of the front door and could hear fingers +scraping ever so softly over the wood surface of the other side. A +slight rattle told me that the hand had found the latch and that +presently the door would be flung open. With my revolver ready I waited +developments and braced myself for the attack. + +The door flew open wide, and the voice of the Wild Hunter cried, + +“Pluto, you fiend, down! down! I say!” + +But this time the huge brute did not obey and the command was answered +by a low rebellious growl, a scratching of feet on the puncheons, and a +heavy thud of someone falling told me that the final struggle for the +leadership of the black wolf pack had begun. + +Then burst upon the stillness of the night such an uproar that for a +moment I thought the whole pack was mixed in the fight, but at length I +heard Pluto’s snarling, rumbling growl, answered by the distant howl of +the wolf pack, followed immediately by a close-by yell that chilled my +blood; after this came Big Pete’s war cry, then the crash of falling +objects, shrieks and growls and savage yells. + +I had flung myself forward, and there in the pitch darkness of the +doorway of the hall I felt and heard rather than saw the lean twisting +bodies of the Wild Hunter and Pluto clasped in a life and death struggle +on the floor. I feared to use my revolver, as it would have been +impossible to tell whether I was shooting the hunter or the wolf. + +Suddenly a light burst upon the scene. Big Pete’s absence was +explained; he had secured a lantern and holding it aloft with his left +hand, with a six-shooter in his right, he paused a moment over the +struggling figures. By the light of the lantern one could see that the +Wild Hunter was on his back struggling with the giant beast which he was +trying to choke with his two hands, while the wolf’s teeth were seeking +the throat of the man. It was a terrible scene but it was no time to +waste in horror. The efforts of the hunter to free himself from his +terrible assailant would have been of little avail but for the +assistance of Big Pete, for the wolf was shaking the wild man from side +to side with terrific force, very much the same as a bull-terrier might +shake a cat. + +Pete wasted no time but placing the muzzle of his gun against the wolf’s +head he fired, then shouted to me, “Look behind you.” + +As I wheeled about I found that I was facing the rest of the pack. Pluto +reared upon his hind legs, clawed the air frantically in his death +struggle, and fell with a thud across his master’s body, but Pete and I +were now concentrating our fire on the snarling, leaping bodies of the +wolf pack. Fortunately the death of Pluto and the silence of the Wild +Hunter seemed to discourage the pack, they evidently missed their +leaders and this gave us the advantage, for if they had rushed us we +undoubtedly would have fallen victims to their savage teeth. + +In the melee the lantern was upset and the struggle ended in darkness as +it began, but when things quieted down and Pete relit the lantern there +were only two wolves which were alive and they were fiercely attacking +each other. We soon dispatched them, however, and then devoted our +attention to the Wild Hunter over whose body Big Pete was now bending. + +“By the great horn spoon, Le-loo!” cried he, looking up for a moment, +“we’ve wiped out the pack, and now that the scrap is over here comes the +Injuns. I calculate our friend here is a dead one; Pluto has chewed him +to pieces. Come, lend a hand and we will see what we can do for the poor +old man; he certainly did put up a glorious fight.” + +Reaching down I gathered the old man’s legs in my arms, and with Big +Pete supporting his head and shoulders, we carried him into my room and +laid him on the feather bed under the savagely ornamented tester. + +Big Pete was all action then, and I helped as best I could. The Scout +ripped one of the homespun sheets into ribbons and with these made +bandages and proceeded to stay the flow of blood from the old man’s +lacerated throat. He worked hard and long and now and then he would +shake his head dubiously. Presently he muttered, “’Taint much use, Ol’ +Timer, I guess yore a goner. Yore goneta pass over t’ Divide this time, +I guess. That tha’ Pluto fiend done chewed you up fer further orders.” + +At this the old man opened his eyes, and a grim smile wrinkled his now +ashen face. + +“I knew he’d do it some day, and I think he got me this time. The Mewan +Indians call the giant wolf “Too-le-ze” and that is also the name they +gave me, but I am not a werwolf, a loup-garou or a Too-le-ze. I was only +their master but now their victim. + +“I feared that Pluto, as I call him, or Too-le-ze, was strong and +treacherous and that is why I ruled him with an iron hand. He’s got me +this time. I guess it had to end this way—give me a cup of water.” + +He then fixed his gaze on me and I noticed that he no longer had that +worried, haunted look which had heretofore characterized him. + +“So you are Donald’s son—well, when I heard Pluto stalking you I knew +that it was you or your uncle that the beast would get; it was fate that +made me slip and fall, and once down the wolf saw his long-looked-for +opportunity and instantly availed himself of it. But the good Lord was +not going to allow me to bring bad luck to both you and your father, +boy. Yes, I am Fay Mullen and I caused the death of your father, and my +brother. I bear the brand of Cain. + +“We were crossing a steep bank of snow at the foot of a cliff, and being +both tired and hungry we were bickering and quarreling over nothing. I +should have remembered that your father was but just recovering from an +attack of nervous prostration, but I did not; we had been months in the +mountains prospecting and the unprofitable toil and loneliness must have +got on my nerves. At any rate, after some hot, unbrotherly language, we +agreed to part company. + +“We sat down on the snow and divided our outfit by lot. I got the +flint-lock Patrick Mullen, the fierce Great Dane and the gentle little +donkey; your father got the packhorse and the Winchester rifle. + +“We—we—parted without saying good-bye, and just then an elk came out +on the snow bank. Instantly your father fired and I fired, the elk fell, +but the simultaneous concussion of the reports of the two rifles started +the snow to moving. The Great Dane and the donkey sensed the danger and +fled to the right. I turned to warn your father and motioned him back, +but he came on a run toward me and I fled at the heels of my outfit. The +burro and dog escaped to safety, I was caught in the edge of the slide, +knocked unconscious and buried in snow, from which the dog rescued me. + +“A fragment of stone struck me on the head and I have never been the +same since then. Your father and his outfit are buried under five +hundred feet of snow and rocks. I camped nearby for days but could find +no trace of my brother and all the time a voice seemed to cry, ‘You +killed your brother; you are marked with the brand of Cain.’ + +“This thought has haunted me night and day and I have never quarreled +with a man since then; for fear that I might do so, I have avoided white +men ever since and buried myself in these mountains. I found this valley +and I hid here and with the aid of the Great Dane and the wolf dogs I +bred, as beasts of burden, I built this ranch. I—I—was afraid—all the +time, though—afraid someone would—find out about—Donald’s death and +blame it on me. When you—said—you—were—Donald’s son I was +frightened—I thought you’d come to get me—for killing your—father +and—I—I—I was going to kill myself. But Pluto got—me—and saved me +from further guilt. I—” + +He said more, but neither Big Pete nor I could understand him. Indeed, +he kept mumbling incoherently for an hour or more while we watched over +him and did all that we could to make him comfortable until the death +rattle in his throat put an end to his mumbling. But despite our +efforts, he passed on at dawn. Just as the first warm light of the sun +glowed above the mountains, he breathed his last. + + * * * * * + +Now you know why my private den is just cram full of the things you +fellows like. You may also guess where I procured the black wolfskin +rugs and the rare bead and porcupine quill decorations. Yes, that +long-barrelled rifle hanging on the buckhorn rack is the famous Patrick +Mullen gun. It is a rifle that Washington, Boone or Crockett would have +almost given their scalps to possess, because it is the same pattern as +the ones they themselves used but more scientifically and skillfully +made. It’s a flint-lock, too, and that is the funny part about it that +interests all the Scouts of our Troop. It is my good-turn mascot, for as +long as it hangs there I am under the influence of my wild uncle and can +quarrel with no man. + +Now you know why the gun is preserved as a trophy for my old Scouts and +is an object of veneration upon which they love to gaze when they sit +cross-legged on the skins of the black wolf pack before the crackling +fire of their Scoutmaster’s private den. + +Big Pete? Oh, he now runs the Pluto Ranch in Paradise Valley. + + + + THE BEARD BOOKS FOR BOYS + + _By_ DAN C. BEARD + + + THE AMERICAN BOY’S HANDY BOOK. Or, What to Do and How to Do It + _Illustrated by the author_ + + Gives sports adapted to all seasons of the year, tells boys how + to make all kinds of things—boats, traps, toys, puzzles, + aquariums, fishing-tackle; how to tie knots, splice ropes, to + make bird calls, sleds, blow-guns, balloons; how to rear wild + birds, to train dogs, and do the thousand and one things that + boys take delight in. + + + THE OUTDOOR HANDY BOOK. For Playground, Field, and Forest + _Illustrated by the author_ + + “How to play all sorts of games with marbles, how to make and + spin more kinds of tops than most boys ever heard of, how to + make the latest things in plain and fancy kites, where to dig + bait and how to fish, all about boats and sailing, and a host of + other things ... an unmixed delight to any boy.”—_New York + Tribune._ + + + THE FIELD AND FOREST HANDY BOOK. Or, New Ideas for Out of Doors + _Illustrated by the author_ + + “Instructions as to ways to build boats and fire-engines, make + aquariums, rafts, and sleds, to camp in a back-yard, etc. No + better book of the kind exists.”—_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + + SHELTERS, SHACKS, AND SHANTIES _Illustrated by the author_ + + Easily workable directions, accompanied by very full + illustration, for over fifty shelters, shacks, and shanties. + + + BOAT-BUILDING AND BOATING. A Handy Book for Beginners + _Illustrated by the author_ + + All that Dan Beard knows and has written about the building of + every simple kind of boat, from a raft to a cheap motor-boat, is + brought together in this book. + + + THE JACK OF ALL TRADES. Or, New Ideas for American Boys + _Illustrated by the author_ + + “This book is a capital one to give any boy for a present at + Christmas, on a birthday, or indeed at any time.”—_The + Outlook._ + + + THE BOY PIONEERS. Sons of Daniel Boone _Illustrated by the + author_ + + “How to become a member of the ‘Sons of Daniel Boone’ and take + part in all the old pioneer games, and many other things in + which boys are interested.”—_Philadelphia Press._ + + + THE BLACK WOLF-PACK + + “A genuine thriller of mystery and red-blooded conflicts, well + calculated to hold the mind and the heart of its boy and, for + that matter, its adult reader.”—_Philadelphia North American._ + + + + + THE BEARD BOOKS FOR GIRLS + + _By_ LINA BEARD _and_ ADELIA B. BEARD + + + THE AMERICAN GIRL’S HANDY BOOK. How to Amuse Yourself and Others + + _With nearly 500 illustrations_ + + “It is a treasure which, once possessed, no practical girl would + willingly part with.”—GRACE GREENWOOD. + + + THINGS WORTH DOING AND HOW TO DO THEM + + _With some 600 drawings by the authors that show exactly how + they should be done_ + + “The book will tell you how to do nearly anything that any live + girl really wants to do.”—_The World To-day._ + + + HANDICRAFT AND RECREATION FOR GIRLS + + _With over 700 illustrations by the authors_ + + “It teaches how to make serviceable and useful things of all + kinds out of every kind of material. It also tells how to play + and how to make things to play with.”—_Chicago Evening Post._ + + + WHAT A GIRL CAN MAKE AND DO. New Ideas for Work and Play + + _With more than 300 illustrations by the authors_ + + “It would be a dull girl who could not make herself busy and + happy following its precepts.... A most inspiring book for an + active-minded girl.”—_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + + ON THE TRAIL + + _Illustrated by the authors_ + + This volume tells how a girl can live outdoors, camping in the + woods, and learning to know its wild inhabitants. + + + MOTHER NATURE’S TOY SHOP + + _Profusely illustrated by the authors_ + + How children can make toys easily and economically from wild + flowers, grasses, green leaves, seed-vessels, fruits, etc. + + + LITTLE FOLKS’ HANDY BOOK + + _With many illustrations_ + + Contains a wealth of devices for entertaining children by means + of paper building-cards, wooden berry-baskets, straw and paper + furniture, paper jewelry, etc. + + + CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK *** + +***** This file should be named 22109-0.txt or 22109-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/1/0/22109/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/22109-0.zip b/22109-0.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..423d1f0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-0.zip differ diff --git a/22109-h.zip b/22109-h.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..551163a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h.zip differ diff --git a/22109-h/22109-h.htm b/22109-h/22109-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a5fbdc --- /dev/null +++ b/22109-h/22109-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6613 @@ + + + + + + + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard + + + + + + +
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard
+
+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: The Black Wolf Pack
+
+Author: Dan Beard
+
+Release Date: July 19, 2007 [EBook #22109]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ + + + + + + + + +

[iii]

+

THE
+BLACK WOLF PACK

+ +

BY

+ +

DAN BEARD

+ +

NATIONAL SCOUT COMMISSIONER, B.S.A.

+ +

ILLUSTRATED

+ +

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+NEW YORK

+ + +
+

+

It was a shadowy figure yet it moved
+[Page 96

+
+ + +

[iv] +Copyright, 1922, by
+CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS

+
+

Copyright, 1922, by BOYS’ LIFE

+
+

Printed in the United States of America
+
+All rights reserved. No part of this book
+may be reproduced in any form without
+the permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons +

+ + +

+ + +

[v] +DEDICATED TO
+BELMORE and FRED
+(BELMORE BROWNE)(FREDERICK K. VREELAND)
+
+NO BETTER WILDERNESS MEN EVER
+WORE MOCCASINS
+

+ + + +
+ +

[vii]

+ +

PREFACE

+ + +

After numerous visits to a number of remote +and unfrequented places in the Rocky +Mountains, from Wyoming to Alberta, the +writer was deeply impressed with the awesome +mystery of the wilderness and the weird +legends he heard around the camp fires, +while the bigness of the things he saw was +photographed on his brain so distinctly and +permanently as to act as a compelling force +causing him, aye, almost forcing him to write +about it.

+ +

When the spell came upon him, like the +Ancient Mariner, he needs must tell the story, +and thus the tale of the Black Wolf Pack was +written with no thought, at the time, of +publishing the narrative, but primarily for +the real enjoyment the author derived from +writing it, and also for the entertainment of +the author’s family and intimate friends.

+ +

[viii]The tale, however, pleased the members of +the Editorial Board of the Boy Scouts of +America, and Mr. Franklin K. Mathiews, +Chief Scout Librarian, asked permission to +have it edited for the Scout Magazine, which +request was cheerfully granted.

+ +

The author hereby freely and cheerfully +acknowledges the useful changes and practical +suggestions injected into the story by his +friend and associate, Mr. Irving Crump, +Editor of Boys’ Life, in which magazine the +Black Wolf Pack, in somewhat abbreviated +form, first appeared.

+ +

DAN BEARD.

+ +

+Flushing,
+June 1st, 1922. +

+ + + +

[ix]

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +
ILLUSTRATIONS
It was a shadowy figure yet it movedFrontispiece
The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt +... and struck the bull36
More than once while I clung to the chance projection +... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt92
“I think the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character to a +nicety”192
   
+ + + + + + + +

[1]The Black Wolf Pack

+ +

CHAPTER I

+ + +

It was a terrible shock to me (said the +Scoutmaster as he fingered a beaded buckskin +bag). Old Blink Broosmore was responsible. +It was a malicious thing for him to do. +He meant it to be mean, too,—wanted to +hurt me,—to wound my feelings and make +me ashamed. And all because he nursed a +grudge against dad—I mean Mr. Crawford.

+ +

It started because of that defective spark-plug +in the engine of the roadster. Strange +what a tiny thing such as a crack in a porcelain +jacket around an old spark-plug can do in the +way of changing the course of a fellow’s whole +life.

+ +

My last period in the afternoon at high +school was a study period and I cut it because[2] +I had several things to do down town. I +hurried home and took the roadster, and on +my way out mother—I mean Mrs. Crawford—gave +me an armful of books to return to the +library and a list of errands she wanted me to +do. While motoring down town I noticed +that one cylinder was missing occasionally +and I told myself I would change that spark-plug +as soon as I got home.

+ +

I made all the stops I had planned and +even drove around to the church because I +wanted to look in at the parish house where +some of my scouts (I was the assistant scoutmaster +of Troop 6, of Marlborough) were +putting up decorations for the very first +Fathers and Sons dinner ever given which we +were to have on Washington’s birthday. +That was in 1911.

+ +

As I was leaving I looked at my new wrist +watch and discovered that it was a quarter +of five.

+ +

“Just in time to catch dad and drive him +home from the office,” I said to myself, for[3] +I knew that he left the office of his big paper-mill +down at the docks at five o’clock.

+ +

I jumped into the car and bowled along +down Spring Street and the Front Street hill +and arrived at the mill office at exactly five. +Dad wasn’t in sight so I decided to turn around +and wait for him at the curb. That is how +the trouble started. I got part way around +on the hill when that cylinder began missing +a lot and next thing I knew the motor stalled +and there was I with my car crosswise on the +hill, blocking traffic—and traffic is heavy on +Front Street hill about five o’clock, because +all the mills are rushing their trucks down to +the piers with the last loads of merchandise +before the down-river boats leave, at six +o’clock.

+ +

In about two minutes I was holding up a +line of trucks a block long and those drivers +were saying a lot of things that were not very +complimentary to me and not printed in +Sunday-school papers. And old Blink Broosmore +was right up at the head of the line[4] +with a truck load of cases from the box factory +and the look on his face was about as ugly +as a mud turtle’s. Then, to make matters +worse, my starter wouldn’t work at the +critical moment, and I had to get out to crank +the engine. What a howl of indignation went +up from those stalled truck drivers! I felt +like a bad two-cent piece in a drawer full of +five-dollar gold pieces. Guess my face was +red behind my ears.

+ +

And then old Blink made the unkindest +remark of all—no, he didn’t make it to me; +he just yelled it out to a couple of other truck-drivers.

+ +

“That’s what happens with these make-believe +dudes,” he shouted. “That’s the +kid old Skin Flint Crawford took out of an +orphan asylum. He’s a kid that old +Crawford took up with because he was too +mean t’ have t’ Lord bless him with one o’ +his own. That’s straight, fellers. I was +Crawford’s gardener when it happened an’—”

+ +

Old Blink stopped and got red and then[5] +white, and I could see the other truck men +looking uncomfortable. I looked up and +there was Dad Crawford on the curb boring +holes into Blink with those cold gray eyes of +his and looking as white as marble. No one +said a word. It seemed as if the whole street +became hushed and silent. I got the car +around to the curb somehow and dad got in +and the line of trucks trundled by with every +driver looking straight ahead and some of +them grinning nervously and apparently feeling +mighty uncomfortable.

+ +

But that wasn’t a patch to the way I felt, +and I could see by the lack of color and set +expression of dad’s face and the way he stared +straight ahead of him without saying a word +that he was feeling very unhappy about it too. +There was something behind it all—something +that raised in my mind vague doubts and +very unpleasant thoughts.

+ +

Dad never spoke a word all the way home, +and, needless to say, I did not either—I +couldn’t; my whole world seemed to have been[6] +turned upside down in the space of half an +hour. Was it true that I was not Donald +Crawford? Was it possible that Alexander +Crawford, this fine, big, broad-shouldered, +kindly man beside me was not my real father? +Was it a fact that that noble, generous, happy +woman whom I called mamma was not my +mother at all? Each of those questions took +shape in my mind and each was like a stab +in the heart, for Blink Broosmore had answered +them all, and Alexander Crawford, though he +must know how anxious I was to have Blink +denied, did not speak to refute him.

+ +

We rolled up the drive and dad stepped +out, still silent, but he did smile wistfully at +me as he closed the car door.

+ +

“Put it away, Don, and hurry in for dinner,” +he said and I felt certain I detected a break +in his voice. I felt sorry—sorry for him and +sorry for myself, and as I put the car in the +garage, I had a hard time trying to see things +clearly; my eyes would get blurred and a lump +would get into my throat in spite of me.

+ +

[7]As I dressed for dinner I felt half dazed. +I hardly realized what I was doing, and I had +to stop and pull myself together before I +started downstairs to the dining room, for +I knew if I did not have myself well in hand I +would blubber like a big chump.

+ +

Mother and dad were waiting for me and +I could see by mother’s sad expression and +the troubled look in her eyes that dad had +told her of the whole occurrence. And that +only added to my unhappiness because I +felt for a certainty that all that Blink Broosmore +had shouted must be true.

+ +

For the first time in my memory dad +forgot to say grace, and none of us ate with +any apparent relish and none of us tried to +make conversation. It was a painful sort of +a meal and I wanted to have it over with as soon +as I could. It seemed hours before Nora +cleared the table and served dad’s demi-tasse.

+ +

I guess I then looked him full in the eyes +for the first time since the occurrence on +Front Street.

+ +

[8]“That was a very unkind thing for Blink +Broosmore to do,” said dad, and I knew by +the firmness and evenness of his voice that +he had gained full control of his feelings.

+ +

“Is—is—oh, did he tell the truth, dad?” +I gulped helplessly and for the life of me I +could not keep back the tears.

+ +

“Unfortunately, Donald, there is just +enough truth in it to make it hurt,” said dad +and I could see mother wince as if she had +been struck, and turn away her face.

+ +

“They why—why? Oh! who am I?” I +cried, for the whole thing had completely +unnerved me.

+ +

“Don dear, we do not know to a certainty,” +said mother struggling with her emotions.

+ +

“But now that you are partly aware of the +situation, I think there is a way you can find +out, at least as much as we know,” said dad, +getting up and going into the library.

+ +

Through the doorway I could see him +fumbling at the safe that he kept there beside +the desk. Presently he drew out a battered[9] +and dented red tin box and a bundle of papers. +These he brought into the dining room and +laid on the table. Then he drew up a chair, +cleared his throat, rather loudly it seemed to +me, and began.

+ +

“Don, we always wanted a child, and why +the Lord never blessed us with one of our own +we do not know. Anyway, we wanted one +so badly that we decided to adopt one. That +was seventeen years ago, wasn’t it, mother?”

+ +

Mother nodded.

+ +

“Doctor Raymond, the physician at the +county institution, knew our desires and, +being an old friend of the family, he volunteered +to find us a good healthy baby that we +could adopt and call our own. Not a week +later you appeared on the scene. Dr. Raymond +told us that a wagon drawn by a raw-boned +horse, and loaded with household +goods, drew up to the orphanage and a tired +and worn-out looking old lady got out with a +lusty year old child in one arm and this box +and these papers under the other.

+ +

[10]“At the office of the asylum she explained +how she and her husband were moving from +a Connecticut town to a little farm they had +bought in Pennsylvania. Somewhere at a +crossroad near Derby, Connecticut, they had +found the baby and this box and bundle of +papers in a basket under a bush with a card +attached to the basket requesting that the +finder adopt and take care of the baby.

+ +

“Of course, they could not pass the infant +by, but the woman explained that they were +too poor and too old to adopt the child so they +had gone miles out of their way to find an +orphanage and leave the baby there, along +with the box and papers.

+ +

“When Dr. Raymond heard the story and +saw you, for you were the baby, he got me on +the telephone and told me all about you. +And that night he brought you here, and +you were such a chubby, bright, interesting +little fellow that mother and I fell in love with +you immediately and decided to adopt you, +which we did according to law. So you are[11] +our legal child, Don, and all that, although +we are not your real parents.”

+ +

Somehow that made me feel a little happier. +Dad and mother did have a claim on me at +least. That was something.

+ +

“It was not until after Dr. Raymond had +left,” went on father, “that mother and +I examined the box and papers that had come +with you. Here they are.”

+ +

Dad took up a worn and age-yellowed envelope +addressed in a bold hand:

+ +

To the Finder

+ +

Inside was the following brief message:

+ +
+

To the Finder:—

+ +

The mother of this child, Donald Mullen, +is dead. I, his father, cannot give him the +care he should have. Will you, the finder, +adopt him, care for him, and bring him up to +be an honest, trustworthy man, and win the +eternal gratitude of his dead mother and

+ +

+Donald Mullen,

+

his father.

+
+ +

“Then my name is—or was Mullen,” I +exclaimed.

+ +

[12]“According to that,” said dad softly, “but +when you became our son we kept your first +name and discarded the family name of +course.”

+ +

“But—but what has become of my father, +Donald Mullen?” I asked.

+ +

“My boy, we have tried both for your sake +and for our own to find out. We have followed +up and searched every possible clue +and—but wait, here are other papers of +interest and after you have read them I will +tell you all we have done to locate your real +father and afterwards we will talk the whole +situation over.” As dad was speaking he +passed over the battered tin box. On the +lid was inscribed the simple lines—

+ +
+

The contents of this box belong to the boy. +If you are honest you will see that it comes +into his hands at the proper time. If you +are dishonest, then God help the boy and +God help you!

+ +

+D. Mullen.

+
+ +

It was some time before I could make up +my mind to force the lid. When I did the[13] +first thing that my eyes fell upon was this +buckskin bag of unmistakable Indian design, +beautifully decorated with bead work and +highly colored porcupine quills cunningly +worked into a good luck design. As I picked +up the bag I saw that it was sealed with wax +and to it was attached a card on which was +penned:

+ +
+

To my son:—

+ +

Here is all the wealth I possess. It isn’t +much. The bag with its contents was sent +to me by my brother, Fay, who is out in the +Rockies. He gave it to me to pay my +expenses out there to join him. I am leaving +it for you. It may help you over some rocky +places if it ever gets into your hands, and I +trust the good Lord that it does.

+ +

Lovingly,

+

Your Father.

+
+ +

The bag gave forth the unmistakable clink +of gold coins as I dropped it on the table.

+ +

That message from my father, whom I had +never seen, made my heart heavy and again +that lump gathered in my throat, for I could[14] +feel the heartaches that the writing of that +note must have caused him. I had not the +courage to break the seal of the bag and +examine its contents. I pushed it aside and +took from the box another time-yellowed +envelope addressed to

+ +

+My Son Donald
+

+ +

Inside I found the following:

+ +
+

Dear Boy:—

+ +

I cannot determine whether I am giving you +a mean deal or whether this is all for your +good. Your mother, Barbara Parker Mullen, +is dead, God bless her! She has been dead +now six months. It seems to me like eternity. +I have tried to take care of you as she would +have cared for you but I am afraid I have lost +heart, and my courage, and I am afraid my +faith has slipped from me. I fear that I am +a broken-spirited failure. The passing of +your mother has taken everything from me. +I am no longer fit or able to care for you and +I must pass you on to someone else and trust +your welfare to God. For neither your mother +nor I have any relatives left who are able to +take care of you.

+ +

[15]What will become of you I cannot guess. +I can only hope for the best. But by the +time you are old enough to read and understand +this message you will, I hope, have +forgiven me or praised me for my effort to +find you a home.

+ +

What will become of me I do not know. +I have one brother left in the world, Fay +Mullen, and he is out in Piute Pass in the +Rockies grubbing for gold. I am going out +to join him for I know the only way I can +forget my grief and get hold of myself once +more is to bury myself in the wilderness.

+ +

Fay has sent me a bag of double eagles to +pay my expenses west. That is all the +money I have in the world. I am not going +to use it. I will work my way west and leave +the gold for you. It is the least and probably +the last that I can do for you.

+ +

If, when you read this you have any desires +to know who you really are, I will leave you +the following information:

+ +

Your mother, a wonderful woman, was +Barbara Parker of Litchfield, Connecticut, +daughter of Judge Arnold Parker of Litchfield, +now deceased. I am Donald Mullen, +the eldest of three brothers; Fay Mullen is[16] +the next of age and Patrick Mullen, the gunsmith +of Maiden Lane, New York, is the +youngest. We were born in Byron Bridge, +Ireland, and we three came to this country +after our parents died. You come of an +honest, worthwhile people on my side, and of +the best American blood on your mother’s, +Donald, and I ask only that you live an honest, +honorable life and have faith in your country +and your God, and He will be with you to the +end.

+ +

Good-bye, boy.

+

Lovingly,

+

Your Father.

+
+ +

I read the letter aloud but I confess that +my voice broke toward the end and I choked +up until reading was difficult.

+ +

For some time after I finished, we three sat +in silence. The thoughts and mental pictures +of that broken man parting with his baby son +seventeen years before made me most unhappy.

+ +

Dad broke the silence.

+ +

“Well, now you are acquainted with the +whole situation, what do you think?

+ +

[17]”“I scarcely know what to think,” said I. +“It does not appear natural for a man to +abandon his own son in the manner he did. +It seems heartless and cruel. I cannot understand +it; yet I wish I could see my poor +father. I wonder if he is still alive. Certainly +with the information at hand it should not +be impossible for me to trace him or some +relatives of my mother. Don’t you think so?”

+ +

“That is what I thought, Don, for when +you were three years old I began to wonder +about your father’s whereabouts. I wanted +to meet him and perhaps help him if I could. +Do not think that your poor father was cruel, +for it is evident that the man was suffering +from a nervous breakdown and consequently +more or less irresponsible; I think he acted +wonderfully well under the circumstances. +In order to help him I began a search and for +ten years I have had detectives and private +individuals following up every possible lead. +Yet, with all my efforts, the search has +amounted to nothing. Your father’s trail[18] +ended at a Spokane outfitting store. I could +not locate anyone nearer to you than an old +maiden great-aunt of your mother’s although +I have had every clue investigated.

+ +

“The only relative of your father’s that +I could get any information about was his +youngest brother, Patrick Mullen, your uncle +and a famous gunsmith of Maiden Lane, +New York. He is dead now but his reputation +for making an exceptionally fine hand-forged +gun lives on even to-day. Patrick Mullen +died just before I began my search for your +father, but in digging around for facts about +him, I learned that he had made a limited +number of very fine guns, on each of which he +had stamped his full name, ‘Patrick Mullen.’ +Other guns of an inferior quality that he made +bore the simple stamp of ‘P. Mullen.’ The +old man was very proud of each ‘Patrick +Mullen’ that he turned out and like the true +artist that he was he kept track of each one, +sold them only to men he knew and when the +owner died he bought the gun back himself so +that he always knew its whereabouts.

+ +

[19]“In that way all of the 101 ‘Patrick +Mullen’s’ he made came back to him, save +one. There is one of the complete number still +missing and no one seems to know where it is. +This is more remarkable because the missing +gun is a flint-lock rifle of the style of seventy +years ago. That gun has always struck me as +being a valuable clue in our search, because it +is the only rifle ever made by the old gunsmith +and I have a feeling that that missing ‘Patrick +Mullen’ may have been given to your father +by the brother, and that may account for +the fact that among the papers of Patrick +Mullen there is no record of its whereabouts; +this is in a measure confirmed by the report +that the man outfitting at Spokane had a long +old-fashioned rifle, and collectors say there +used to be an expert in antique arms by the +name of Mullen.”

+ +

The suggestion made me tremendously +excited. Beyond a doubt in my mind that +missing “Patrick Mullen” was my father’s +gun. I imagined him parting with everything +else save the unique gun his famous brother[20] +had made for him. Why he should wish for a +flint-lock rifle was an unanswerable question, +but someone wanted that sort of a gun or it +would not have been made, and my father’s +letters showed him to be a man of sentiment, +and impractical, just the sort of fellow to use a +flint-lock when he might just as well have +had a modern breech-loading high-power rifle.

+ +

“I believe you’ve hit it, dad. Hot dog!” +I exclaimed. “Bet a cookie that that gun +does belong to my father and if we can find it +we will probably find him too—would not that +be bully?”

+ +

“I feel the same way too, Don. But +finding that missing gun will be as difficult +as finding your father. I have searched the +country over for it and made a wonderful +collection of flint-lock guns, as you see by +looking at yonder gun-rack; I have had +dozens of arms collectors and detectives +looking for guns of that description, but no +Patrick Mullen rifle has turned up anywhere. +There have, of course, been many false clues[21] +and many queer rifles offered to me and I +have put a great many thousands of dollars +into the search, and my collection of flint-locks +is the best in the land, Don. But so +far nothing but failures seem to have rewarded +my search—no, I’m wrong, there is one man +out west—out in the little jerk-water town of +Grave Stone, who insists that there is a wild +man living in a lonely, almost inaccessible +valley in the mountains, who shoots a gun +which looks like the one for which I am searching. +For a number of years this man of +mystery, it seems, has been appearing and +reappearing, according to Big Pete Darlinkel, +my informant, but even Pete has never got in +personal touch with this eccentric hermit. +Neither have several detectives I have sent +out there for that purpose. The detectives +seem to be all right in towns or cities and are +undoubtedly brave men, but something out +there appears to frighten them and they lose +interest the moment they cut the trail of the +wild hunter. I begin to think this wild man[22] +is a myth, too. Strange, though, that just a +week ago I received another letter from Pete +Darlinkel. Wait, I’ll find it.”

+ +

He returned from the library presently with +a letter which he opened and passed over to +me. It read:

+ +
+

+Dear Mr. Crawford:—
+

+ +

Maybe you hain’t interested no more but +thet tha’ ole Dopped ganger, the Wild +Hunter, the spooky old critter, has been seen +agin. i wuz on the top of the painted Butte +yesterday squinten one i in the valley look’n +for elk and look’n up with tother i for +Big horn on the mountain, when i staged the +old duffer snoop’en along in one of the parks +an’ he had the same long hair and long rifle +he uster have. He sure is a ghost or else +he’s a nut or an old timer gone locoed. He +sends the chills down my backbone every +time i sots my eyes on him.

+ +

Your obedients sarvent,

+

Big Pete.

+
+ +

There was something about that crude +letter that stirred me deeply.

+ +

[23]Could this strange freak that Big Pete saw +from the top of the painted Butte possess that +Patrick Mullen rifle? If so did he know anything +about the whereabouts of my father? +It is not uncommon for people suffering from +a mental breakdown to flee to the country +or wilderness and there live the life of a +recluse, and from my father’s last letter it +was evident that he had had a nervous breakdown +from anxiety and brooding over the loss +of my mother, to whom he evidently was +devotedly attached. It might, therefore, be +possible that this strange, wild man himself +was my father, an unpleasant possibility. +At any rate, I felt that I could not rest, at +least until I discovered to a certainty the +name of the maker of the long rifle said to be +carried by the wild hunter and I told dad just +how I felt about it.

+ +

“I knew you would feel that way, son,” +said he. “I have often wanted to go west +for the very same purpose and I knew that +when I told you everything you would want to[24] +go too. I intended to lay all the facts before +you when you were twenty-one but now that +Blink Broosmore has taken it upon himself to +inform you and his truck-driving friends of +the mystery surrounding your real parentage, +I guess it is best you know all there is to be +known about the situation. The rest I’ll +leave to you. In fact, it would please me a +great deal if you would run down this last +vague clue to see if your father really is still +alive. Go, Donald, and God bless you, and +take that bag of gold with you, unopened, +for it may now stand your father in good stead, +and if you do find him, bring him here and I +promise you he will never want for a thing, +nor will you, my son, for you are still my boy +whatever your real parentage may be.”

+ + + + +

[25]CHAPTER II

+ + +

The stage pulled up in front of a typical +western saloon, post office and general store. +There was the usual crowd of prospectors, +gamblers, cow punchers and trappers assembled +to meet the incoming stage. When +I scrambled off the top of the old-fashioned +coach, and before I had time to shake the +alkali dust from my clothes, or moisten my +dry and cracked lips, a typical western bully +approached me roaring the verses of a song +with which he evidently intended to terrify me,

+ +

+“He blowed into Lanigan swinging a gun
+A new one,
+A blue one,
+A colt’s forty-one,
+An’ swearing
+Declaring
+Red Rivers ’ud run
+Down Alkali Valley,
+[26]An’ oceans of gore
+’ud wash sudden death
+On the sage brush shore,
+An’ he shot a big hole—” +

+ +

He got no further with the song. Another +man stepped out from the crowd, a very +tall, powerful man who would have attracted +attention in any garb in any place by his +distinguished appearance, who with little ceremony +rudely brushed the roughneck to one side, +and my instinct told me the handsome +stranger could be no other than Big Pete +Darlinkel.

+ +

My! my! what a man he was! Looked as if +he just stepped out of one of Fred Remington’s +pictures, or Buffalo Bill’s Wild West +Show, or slipped from between the leaves +of a volume of Captain Mayne Reid’s +“Scalp Hunters”—Big Pete was evidently a +hold-over from another age. He would have +fitted perfectly and with nicety in a picture +of Davy Crockett’s men down in old Texas. +He seemed, however, perfectly at home in this +border town, and I noted that the most hard-boiled[27] +and toughest men in the crowd treated +him with marked respect and deference.

+ +

Pete was a wilderness fop and a dandy, and +evidently was as careful of his clothes as a +West Point cadet. In dress he affected the +old-fashioned picturesque garb of the mountains. +His appearance filled me with wonder +and admiration; he stood six feet two or +three inches in his moccasins, straight as an +arrow and lithe as a cat.

+ +

His costume consisted of a tunic of dressed +deer skin, smoked to the softness of the +finest flannels. He wore it belted in at the +waist, but open at the breast and throat +where it fell back like a sailor’s collar into a +short cape covering the shoulders. Underneath +was the undershirt of dressed fawn skin; +his leggins and moccasins were of the same +material as his hunting shirt, and on his head +he wore a fox skin cap; the fox’s head adorned +with glass eyes ornamented the front and the +tail hung like a drooping plume over the left +shoulder.

+ +

[28]Big Pete Darlinkel was a blonde, and his +golden hair hung in sunny curls upon his +massive shoulders; a light mustache, soft yellow +beard, with a pair of the deepest, clearest, +most innocent baby-like blue eyes, all made a +face such as an angel might have after years of +exposure to sun and wind.

+ +

Not only are Big Pete’s revolvers gold +mounted, but the shaft of his keen-edged +knife is rich with figures, rings, and stars +filed from gold coins and set in the horn. +The very stock of his long, single-barreled +rifle is inlaid like an Arab’s gun, and, as for +his buckskin hunting suit, it is a mass of +embroidery and colored quills from his beaded +moccasins to the fringed cape of his shirt.

+ +

Big Pete was a dandy, fond of color, fond of +display; yet in spite of all this he wore absolutely +nothing for decoration alone, but every +article of use about his person was ornamented +to an oriental degree. Gaudy and +rich as his costume was when viewed in detail, +as a whole it harmonized not only with Pete,[29] +his hair, his complexion, his weapons, but +with whatever natural objects surrounded him.

+ +

Big Pete also seemed to know me instinctively +and approached with a graceful and +swinging step; holding out his hand he greeted +me in a low, soft, well-modulated voice with, +“Howdy, kid; yes, I’m Big Pete and allow you +are the tenderfoot dude from New York +what wants to shoot big game, an’ reckon +you’d like to meet the wild mountain man? +Well, he’s a queer one, I tell you. He’s got +us all buffaloed out this-a-way, most of us +don’t care to meet him close up and we give +him wide range when we cut his trail.”

+ +

That was Big Pete’s greeting. Of course, +I had not told him of my real interest in this +mysterious man of the mountains, only suggesting +that I would like to do some big game +shooting and see the spooky hunter.

+ +

“Well,” I answered, “I would like to get a +record elk head to take home to dad. As for +the mountain wildman, I wish you’d tell me +more about him, he is awfully interesting.”

+ +

[30]“Tell you more? Well, sho, I reckon I can +tell you more than most people round these +parts for he makes my game park his stampin’ +grounds every onct in a while, an’ let me tell +you he hunts some peculiar, he do, he’s half +man and half wolf—but shucks, I won’t spoil +the show, you will see how he hunts for yourself +if you stay here long. Glory be, but he’s +got me some bashful and shy. But mosey +along and I’ll hist yore stuff on this here +cayuse while you let them tha’ dogs out of +their chicken coop boxes. You can cache +your dude duds in the Emporium general store +over yonder next to Squinty Quinn’s saloon, +an’ then we’re off for the hills. I’ll yarn about +this Wild Hunter while we hit the trail.”

+ +

An hour spent in Grave Stone gave me an +opportunity to wash myself and change my +clothes for some that would be more substantial +for out-of-door wear, start several letters +east telling of my safe arrival, buy the things +I had overlooked, store my surplus clothes +with the postmaster at the general store, and[31] +repack my kit for pony travel. Then, after +watching Big Pete skilfully throw the diamond +hitch, we were off for the hills and our first +camp. I hoped that I was on my way to find +my real father and unravel the mystery that +surrounded my strange babyhood. But I +little guessed what adventures I was to have +or the strange things I was to see before my +quest was ended.

+ +

We traveled fast all the remaining portion +of the afternoon and toward evening we made +camp and for the first time in my life I slept +under the sky. At the end of the fifth day +we reached the secret and narrow opening of +a big valley or “park” in the midst of a wild +tumble of mountains. Big Pete said we +would pitch our tent in the park.

+ +

“Tha’s plenty of signs ’round too an’ if we +loosen t’ dogs p’raps we kin stir up a mountain +lion or collar some fresh meat t’ start camp +with,” said he as he slid off his horse and took +the leashes off the dogs.

+ +

It took us but a short time to arrange our[32] +camp, then Big Pete followed by the frisking +dogs slipped silently into the woods. He was +gone scarcely a quarter of an hour when he +reappeared again without the dogs, motioned +for me to get my gun and follow him.

+ +

“Tha’s elk signs all bout,” he said, “an’ +the muts broke away on a fresh trail. Now +you an’ me’ll climb through that draw yonder +and hide out on the runway till they drive an +elk in gun shot. Come along.”

+ +

I followed eagerly and presently we had +climbed through a thickly grown poplar +grove and found a suitable hiding place among +the small poplars. We had the wind right +and a clear view of most of the open park. +Big Pete stooped down and motioned for me +to do likewise.

+ +

I quietly crouched beside him and waited—waited +until my legs were cramped, waited +until the dampness from the moss struck +through the heavy soles of my tenderfoot +shoes and chilled my feet; waited until my +arm was so numb that it felt like a piece of +lead—then, in spite of the danger of incurring[33] +Big Pete’s displeasure and in spite of my +dread of being thought a dude tenderfoot, +I changed my position, rubbed life into my +arm and assumed an easier pose.

+ +

In front of us was a small lake, deep, dark +and unruffled. All around the edge was a +natural wharf formed from the gigantic trunks +of trees which had fallen for ages into the lake +and been washed by wind and waves and +forced by winter ice into such regular order +and position along the shore that their arrangement +looked like the work of men. +Back of this wharf and all about was the wilderness +of silent wood; a wilderness enclosed +by a wall of mountains, whose lofty heads +were uplifted far above the soft white clouds +that floated in the blue sky overhead and +were mirrored in the lake below. An eagle, +on apparently immovable wings, soared over +the lake in spiral course. As I watched the +bird its wings seemed suddenly endowed with +life. At the same instant my guide gave a low +grunt of warning.

+ +

“What is it?” I asked in a whisper, for there[34] +was a strange expression in my companion’s +eyes.

+ +

“It’s—it’s him, so help me!—Keep yer ears +open and yer meat-trap shut!” growled Pete.

+ +

I did so. The trained ear of the hunter had +detected the sound of crackling twigs and swishing +branches made by some animals in rapid +motion.

+ +

“Ah!” I exclaimed, “the dogs. You +startled me; I thought it was Indians.”

+ +

“I wish it was nothing wuss,” muttered my +guide, as he examined his weapons with a +critical eye and loosened the cartridges for +his revolvers in his belt to make sure that +they would be easy to pluck out.

+ +

“Those hain’t our dogs, mister,” he remarked +after he had examined his whole arsenal.

+ +

As I again fixed my attention on the noise, +in place of the resonant voice of the hounds, +I heard nothing but the crackling of branches, +with an occasional half-suppressed wolf-like +yelp.

+ +

Big Pete turned pale and muttered, “It’s[35] +them for sartin; it’s them agin! And I hain’t +been drinkin’, nuther!”

+ +

Big Pete Darlinkel remained crouching in +exactly the same pose he had first assumed, +but his face looked sallow and worn. I marveled. +Was this big westerner really awed +by the situation we were facing? What disaster +impended?

+ +

My guide’s eyes were fixed upon an opening +in the woods and I knew that something would +soon bound from that spot. I could hear the +crashing of brush and half-suppressed wolf-like +yelps, followed by a pause, then a rushing +noise, and out leaped as beautiful a bull elk +as I had ever seen—in fact the first I had ever +seen at close range in his native wilderness. +I had only time to take note of his muscular +neck, clean cut limbs, his grand branching +antlers, and—not my dogs but a pack of +immense black wolves at his heels before I +instinctively brought my gun to my shoulder. +But before I could draw a bead Big Pete +struck it, knocking the muzzle up.

+ +

[36]“Hist!” he exclaimed, pointing to the bird.

+ +

The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt +and skilfully avoiding the branching +antlers, struck the bull, driving one talon into +the neck and the other into the back, flapping +its huge wings as it tore with its beak at the +body of the elk like a trained “bear coote.”

+ +

I was thunderstruck. The evident partnership +of the wolves and bird needed explanation +and it was not long in coming. A shrill +whistle pierced the air, the black wolves +immediately ceased to worry the elk, the eagle +soared overhead, and for an instant the elk +stood confused, then leaped high in the air and +fell dead. The next moment I heard the +crack of a rifle and saw a puff of blue smoke +across the lake.

+ +

“That’s no ghost,” I said, when partly recovered +from my astonishment.

+ +

“Wait,” said Pete laconically.

+ + +
+

+

The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt ... and struck the bull

+
+ + + + +

[37]

Not long afterward there was a movement +among the wolves and, noiselessly as a panther +the figure of a man lithe and youthful in every +movement slipped to the side of the dead elk. +He made no noise, uttered no word to the +fierce black animals that sat with their red +tongues hanging from their panting jaws, but +without a moment’s hesitation whipped out a +knife and with a dexterity and skill that +brought the color to Big Pete’s face, proceeded +to take the coat off the wapiti, while the great +eagle perched upon the branching antlers. +The skin was removed and with equal dexterity +all the best parts of the meat were +skilfully detached and packed in the green +hide, after which, removing a large slice of +red flesh, the strange hunter held up one +finger. One of the wolves gravely walked up +to him, received the morsel, gulped it down +and retired. Each in turn was fed, then the +great bird flopped on his shoulder and was fed +from his hand, and before I could realize what +had happened the man, the wolves and the +eagle had disappeared, leaving nothing but +the dismembered carcass of the elk to remind +us of the strange episode.

+ + + + +

[38]CHAPTER III

+ + +

To say that the whole spectacle that I had +just witnessed startled me would be stating it +mildly indeed. The strange appearance of this +big, powerful, smooth shaven man in a buckskin +hunting costume with a retinue of black +wolves and a trained eagle, the mysterious +manner of his hunting and his coming and +going, aroused in me great interest and curiosity +and I could realize the effect it evidently +had upon Big Pete’s superstitious mind in +spite of the fact that the big fellow was +accustomed to facing almost any sort of +danger. As for me, I could not myself prevent +the creeping chills from running down my +spine whenever I thought of the wild man.

+ +

Could it be possible that this strange, +half-wild man of the mountains, this killer, +this master of a wolf pack, could be in any +way connected with my father? I wondered,[39] +and as I wondered I found that a vague fear +of this mad man who despite his reputed age +seemed as youthful and as agile as a man in +his thirties, was gripping me. Perhaps the +strangeness of the wilderness park added to +my awe, for certainly one could expect almost +anything supernatural to happen in the twilight +of the forest of giant trees, whose +interlacing branches overhead shut out the +light of heaven.

+ +

Recovering somewhat from my astonishment +and surprise, I realized that what I had +witnessed, strange though it appeared, was +not a supernatural occurrence. I knew that +it was a real gun I had heard, real smoke I +had seen, real man, real bird, real elk, and +real wolves.

+ +

“But, Pete,” I exclaimed, as a sudden +thought struck me, “what’s become of our +dogs?”

+ +

“Better ask them black fiends up the mountains. +I reckon you won’t see them tha’ +hounds of yours agin.”

+ +

[40]And I never did, but having hunted the +wolf with cowboys and having been a witness +to their extraordinary biting power, I knew +the fate that must necessarily befall a couple +of ordinary hounds when overtaken by half +a dozen full-grown wolves. On such occasions +we do not spend much time in grief over a loss +of any kind, “it taint according to mountain +law,” Pete would say.

+ +

“Reckon we had better swipe some of that +elk before the coyotes get at it,” growled +Pete. “The wild mountainman knows the +good parts, but an elk is an elk, and one wild +man, even if he is a giant, can’t carry off all +the good meat, not by a long shot.”

+ +

“He may come back,” I suggested.

+ +

“Not he,” said Pete. “He’s too stuck up +for that. When he wants more, them tha’ +black demons and that voodoo bird of his’n +will get ’em for him, and he’s a hanging his +long legs off’ner a rock some whar smoking a +long cigar.”

+ +

“Dod rot him,” growled Pete. “Why[41] +couldn’t he leave a piece of hide to carry the +meat in and the stomach to cook it in? +That’s the fust time I ever stayed long +’nough to see him collar his meat, though +they say he do eat the game raw, but I +reckon that’s a lie, leastwise he didn’t do’t +this time.”

+ +

With a good square meal of the locoed +hunter’s elk under our belts and a rousing +camp fire before which to toast our shins, +both the big westerner and I felt a little more +natural and comfortable, but our conversation +turned again to this wild hunter of the mountains.

+ +

I could see that the mysterious old man with +his wolf pack and eagle aroused almost every +possible form of superstition in Big Pete and +I confess that I was not free from some of it +myself. The guide was certain that the man +was either a ghost or a reincarnated devil, +and he displayed no uncertain signs of awe.

+ +

“I tell you,” said Pete, “he’s a devil. +He’s over a hundred years old, for my dad[42] +says he seed him, an’ an Injun before dad’s +time told him about him. They are all +skeered t’ death o’ him. An’ I don’t blame +’em. He’s a shore enough hant and them +tha’ houn’s o’ his’n is devils in wolf skins. +Jumping Gehoosaphats, ef they shed ever cut +my trail I reckon I’d just lay right down an’ +die,” and Big Pete actually shuddered at the +possibility.

+ +

“Why, young feller,” he went on, “that ol’ +man shoots gold bullets out o’ a real Patrick +Mullen gun.”

+ +

“A Mullen gun, Pete?” I cried, “how do you +know, man; speak for goodness sake!”

+ +

“I don’t know it’s a Patrick Mullen and +guess it tain’t one ’cause a Patrick Mullen +rifle would cost a thousand or more. But +the old Injun, Beaver Tail, says, someone +told his father and his father told him that et +is a Patrick Mullen gun an’ is a special make +inlaid with gold and silver, an’ all ornamented +up, an’ built for an ol’ muzzle-loadin’ flint-lock. +Now Mullen never made no flint-lock[43] +rifles that I hear’n tell of, his specialty be +shotguns an’ if he made this rifle I’m ganderplucked +if I cud tell how this spook got it.”

+ +

“Unless the wild Hunter might be a relative +of old Patrick Mullen,” I said, thinking aloud, +and gasping at the thought, for the description +of the rifle somehow impressed me again with +the possibility that this wild man of the mountains +might himself be Donald Mullen, and +my own father!

+ +

“Why do you say that, kid?” asked Big +Pete with a queer look in his eyes.

+ +

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just wondering +to myself. But what makes you think he’s a +supernatural being, and, Pete, does this wild +loony hunter look at all like me?”

+ +

“Super what? Say when did you swallow +a dictionary?—Oh, you mean what makes +me think he’s a devil. No, he don’t favor you +none,” he added with a grin, “he’s a handsome +devil, although he’s done terrified every white +man, an’ Injun, in these parts half t’ death, +so most of ’ems afeared to come back here at[44] +all. Men have gone in the park jest to get this +wild man’s scalp, but they’ve done come back +scared yaller an’ they ain’t opened their trap +much about him since nuther. They do say he +spits fire an’ chaws his meat offen the bone an’ +then cracks the bones like a dog an’ swallers +it all. They do say, too, that he roars like +forty devils with their tails cut off when he +gits mad an’ some say as when he wants t’ +git som wha’ in a hurry he jest grabs aholt o’ +the feet o’ tha’ there thunder bird and she +flies off with him and draps him anywha’ he +asks her to—Nope, I hain’t seen none of these +things myself but others say they has, an’ +believe me, I’m plumb cautious when travelin’ +these parts alone. Howsomever, he hain’t +yet skeered me ’nough to make my ha’r come +out by the roots,” said Pete with a yawn. +“There, kick that back log over so’s the fire can +lick at t’other side; now let’s turn in.”

+ + + + +

[45]CHAPTER IV

+ + +

Big Pete and I spent several weeks in our +charming little camp at the lower end of the +park, for my guide decided that despite the +recent presence of the wild hunter, here would +be a good place to get a shot at some black-tail +deer. In fact we saw signs of those +animals all about and my guide was only looking +for fresh indication to start out on our last +hunt before we made our way deeper into the +wilderness.

+ +

On the third day of our stay I was returning +to camp with my shotgun over my shoulder +and a brace of sage grouse in my hand, when +I came upon Big Pete in a swail about a mile +from camp. He was bending low and examining +fresh signs when he saw me.

+ +

“Howdy, kid, here’s some doin’s. Shall +we foller him?”

+ +

[46]“Of course, Pete; what are we here for, the +mountain air?” I answered.

+ +

“No,” answered Pete, in his deep, low voice, +“we’re here for game,” and off he started, but +slowly and with great caution. I felt impatient, +but restrained myself, saying nothing +and continued to follow my big guide who now +moved with the most painstaking care. Not +a twig broke beneath his moccasins as with +panther-like step and crouching form he led +me through a lot of young trees over a rocky +place until we struck a small spring with a +soft muddy margin. Here Pete came to a +sudden halt. I asked him why he did not go +on, and he pointed to a ledge of rock that ran +up the mountain side diagonally with a flat, +natural roadbed on top, graded like a stage +road but unlike a traveled road, ending in a +bunch of underwood and brush about a hundred +yards ahead.

+ +

Above the ledge of the rocks was a steep +declivity of loose shale sprinkled over with +large and small boulders of radically different[47] +formations, and in no manner resembling the +friable, uncertain bed upon which they rested.

+ +

These boulders undoubtedly showed the result +of the grinding and polishing of an ancient, +slow-moving glacier, but some other force had +deposited them in the present position.

+ +

“He’s in tha’,” whispered Pete.

+ +

“Who, the wild mountain man?” I asked.

+ +

“No,” answered my guide, “th’ grizzly.”

+ +

“The what?” I almost shouted.

+ +

“Th’ grizzly,” answered Pete; “what do +you think we’ve been following?”

+ +

“Black-tailed deer,” I said softly, with my +eyes glued on the thicket.

+ +

“Well, tenderfoot, here’s the trail of that +tha’ deer, and he hain’t been gone by here +mor’n nor a week ago, nuther.”

+ +

I looked and there in the soft mud was the +print of a foot, a human-looking foot, but +for the evenness in the length of the toes and +the sharpness and length of the toe nails. +Yes, there was another difference, and that +was the size. It was the footprint of a[48] +savage Hercules, the track of an enormous +grizzly bear, and the soft mud that had dripped +from the big foot was still undried on the +leaves and grass when Pete pointed it out to +me.

+ +

“Well, Pete, don’t forget your promise that +I am to have first shot at all big game,” I +whispered with my best effort at coolness, but +my heart was thumping against my ribs at +a terrific rate.

+ +

“But—why, bless you old man!” I whispered +excitedly as I looked at my gun, “I am +armed only with a shotgun.”

+ +

“Tha’s all right,” replied the big trapper +complacently; then, with a quick motion, he +whipped out his keen-edged knife and snatching +one of my cartridges he severed the shell +neatly between the two wads which separated +the powder and shot; that is, a wad in each +piece of the cartridge was exposed by the cut.

+ +

Guided by the faint longitudinal seam where +the edges of the colored paper join on the shell, +Big Pete carefully fitted the two parts of the[49] +cartridge together exactly as they were before +being cut apart. Breaking my gun, he slipped +the mutilated ammunition into the unchoked +barrel.

+ +

“Tha’,” he grunted, “tha’s better than a +bullet at short range, an’ll tar a hole in old +Ephraim big enough to put your arm through.”

+ +

He cut two more in the same manner, saying, +“Be darned kerful not to get excited and +put them in your choke barl, or tha’ may be +trouble.”

+ +

Hunting a grizzly with a shotgun and bird +shot was not my idea of safe sport, but I was +too much of a moral coward to acknowledge +to Pete that I was frightened. Pete examined +his gun, ran his finger over the cartridges in +his belt, and went through all the familiar +motions which to him were unconscious but +always foretold danger ahead.

+ +

“You drap on your prayer hinges behind +that tha’ nigger head,” said Pete, “and you +will have a dead shot at the brute, an’ I’ll go +up and roll a stone down the mountain side and[50] +follow it as fast as I kin, so as to be ready to +help you if you need it; but you ought to drap +him at first shot at short range. Yer must +drap him, yer must or I allow tha’ll be a right +smart of a scrap here, and don’t yer forget +it!”

+ +

“This is no Christmas turkey shooting, +young feller, so look sharp,” and with a noiseless +tread Pete vanished in the wood, while I +with beating heart and bulging eyes watched +the thicket at the end of the ledge. I had not +long to wait before I heard a blood-curdling +yell and then crash! crash! crash! came a big +boulder tearing down the mountain side. It +reached a point just over the thicket, struck a +small pine tree, broke the tree and leaped +high into the air, then crashed into the middle +of the brush.

+ +

Following with giant leaps came Big Pete +Darlinkel down the rocky declivity, but I +only looked that way for one instant, then my +eyes were again fixed on the thicket, and in +my excitement I arose to a standing position.[51] +There was but a momentary silence after the +fall of the boulder before I heard the rustling +of sticks and leaves, saw the top of the bushes +sway as some heavy body moved beneath, +then there appeared a head, and what a head +it was! Bigger than all outdoors! I aimed +my gun, but my body swayed and the end +of my shotgun described a large circle in the +air. I knew that my position was serious, but +my nerves played me false.

+ +

I had never before faced a grizzly. I heard +Big Pete’s voice calling to me to drop behind +the rock, but I only stood there with a dogged +stupidity, trying to aim my gun at a mark +which seemed to me as big almost as a barn-door.

+ +

I heard Pete give a sudden cry then there +was a rattle of stones and dirt on the ledge +in front of the mountain of brownish hair that +was advancing in sort of side leaps or bounds +like a big ball.

+ +

The bear came to a sudden stop, and to my +horror I saw the form of my friend shoot[52] +over the edge of the overhanging rock right +in the path of the grizzly. It all flashed +through my mind in a moment. Pete in his +haste to reach me had lost control of himself +and slid with the rolling stones and dirt over +the mountain side, a fall of at least twenty-five +feet!

+ +

Instantly my nerve returned and I rushed +madly up the incline to rescue my companion. +I bounded between the branches of some stout +saplings, they parted as my body struck them +but sprung together again before my leg had +cleared the V-shaped opening.

+ +

My foot was imprisoned and I fell with a +heavy thud on my face. For an instant I +was dazed, but even in my dazed state I was +fully conscious of Pete’s impending peril, +and I kicked and struggled blindly to free +myself. My gun had been flung from my hand +in my fall and was out of my reach. Then to +my horror I heard the howl the wolf gives when +game is in sight, and even half blind as I was +I saw dark, dog-like forms sweep by me; I[53] +heard the scream of an eagle; I heard a snarling +and yelping, the sounds of a struggle—I +ceased to kick, wiped the blood from my eyes +and looked ahead.

+ +

There lay Big Pete Darlinkel, dead or +unconscious, and within ten feet of him +stood the giant bear surrounded by a vicious +pack of gaunt red-mouthed wolves. The +bear made a rush and a shadow passed over +the ground; I heard the sound of a large body +rushing swiftly through the air, and an +immense eagle struck the bear like a thunderbolt; +at the same instant the wolves attacked +him from all sides; then there was a whistle +keen and clear; the wolves retreated; the bird +again soared aloft; the bear made several +passes in the air in search of the bird, fell +forward again on all fours, rose on its hind +legs and killed a wolf with one sweep of its +great paw.

+ +

The bear now made a dash at the giant +leader of the pack, only to fall forward, dead, +with its ugly nose across Big Pete’s chest.

+ +

[54]Then I remembered hearing the crack of a +rifle, and knew that the Wild Mountain Man +had saved our lives. I tried to rise but found +my ankle so badly sprained that I could not +stand on it.

+ +

Suddenly a low voice with a hint of an +Irish accent said, “Sit down, stranger, while +I look to your mate,” and I saw the tall lithe +figure of a man clothed in buckskin bending +over Pete.

+ +

“Only stunned, friend,” said he, and I +heard no more. The blow on my head, +combined with the pain from my ankle was +too much for me, and now that the danger was +over it was a good time to faint, and I took +advantage of it.

+ +

How long I remained unconscious I do not +know, but when my eyes opened again it was +night; through the interlacing boughs overhead +the stars were shining brightly, my head +was neatly bandaged and so was my foot and +ankle. I could hear our horses cropping grass +near by. I raised my head and there lay[55] +Pete; he was alive I knew by his snores that +issued from his nose, and we were in our own +camp; but—what are those animals by our +camp fire? Wolves! gaunt, shaggy wolves!

+ +

I hastily arose to a sitting posture, but my +alarm subsided when in the dim light of the +fire I could trace the outline of another man’s +figure, and on a stick close to the stranger’s +head roosted a giant bird.

+ +

Could it be that this wild man of the mountain—possibly +my own father—was camping +with us?

+ + + + +

[56]CHAPTER V

+ + +

“Moseyed, by gum! I’ll be tarnally tarnashuned +if that terri-fa-ca-cious spook hain’t +pulled out!” was the exclamation that awakened +me the morning after our adventure with +the bear.

+ +

Lazily opening my eyes I gazed a moment +at the sun just peeping over the mountain, +then closed them again; but when I attempted +to change my position a sharp pain in my +ankle thoroughly awakened me. Still I lay +quiet because it was some time before I could +collect my scattered senses and separate in +my mind the real incident and the dream +phantasms.

+ +

The pain in my ankle, the swelled and +irritated condition of my nose plainly proved +to me that there was no dream about my injuries, +but I discovered that my head and leg +were neatly bandaged with strips of fine linen.[57] +I sat for a while busily collecting the incidents +of the past twenty-four hours, arranging them +in my mind in their proper order and place. +I cut out the dream portion from the realities +with very little trouble until I reached the +part where I had awakened in the night and +had seen the wolves, the eagle and the Wild +Hunter. I could not be sure whether that was +a dream or reality. Had I seen this strange +old man with his eagle and his wolf pack +beside our camp fire or had I dreamed it? +Had this hobgoblin man, who might be my +own father, rescued me from death at the +claws of the grizzly and bound my wounds +for me, or was that but a dream too? Had +not Big Pete saved me perhaps and cared for +me afterward?

+ +

“Pete, old fellow,” I said presently, rising +to my elbow, “who brought me to camp? +Who killed that bear? Who saved our lives?”

+ +

“The Wild Hunter,” replied Pete gravely. +“He bathed my head with some sort of good +smelling stuff and, though I am as heavy as a[58] +dead buffaler, toted me to camp; he ’lowed +that I was all sort of shuk up and a little +hazy; he fixed my blanket, then he fotched +you in on his shoulders just as if you was a +dead antelope, fixed you up with bandages +torn from handkerchiefs in your pocket, gave +you a drink which you didn’t seem to appreciate, +but just swallowed like you were asleep, +then he laid you out. I had my eye peeled +on him but he said nary a word, an’ when +we wuz both all comfortable he pulled out a +long cigar, sot down by the fire and was +smoking tha’ with his bird and his wolves +around him when I went to sleep.

+ +

“He cut his bullets out, as he allus does,” +muttered Pete a little while later.

+ +

“Who cut what bullets?” I asked.

+ +

“Whomsoever cud I mean but th’ Wild +Hunter, and wha’s tha’ been any bullets +lately but in th’ b’ar?” queried my companion.

+ +

“Yes, of course,” I admitted, “but why do +you suppose he cut out the bullets?”

+ +

“Wal, I reckon tha’ might be right scarce[59] +and he haster be kinder sparing with them. +I calculate you’d like to have a hatful of them +balls, leastwise most folks would; cause +the Wild Hunter don’t use no common low-flung +lead for his bullets, no-sir-ree bob-horsefly! +Tain’t good ’nuff for a high-cock-alorum +like him—he shoots balls of virgin gold!”

+ +

But I was more interested in what had +become of this strange man than in the sort +of projectiles rumor said that he used in his +gun and so dismissed the subject with a +request for further information about our +rescuer.

+ +

“This morning when I opened my peepers,” +Pete continued, “I t’ought maybe the Wild +Hunter had only gone off on a tramp; but +he’s done clared out for good, and tuk his +wolves and bird with him. I’m some glad he +took th’ wolves, I don’t sorter like the look +of their mean eyes; they do say that he is a +wolf himself and the head of the pack.”

+ +

“What’s that, Pete? Steady, old man, now +let’s go slow.”

+ +

[60]“All right; tha’s wha’ I mean ter do. +’Cause it hain’t a varmint natur’ to help +men folks, and he done helped us, and no +mistake, and left us the bulk of the b’ar too,—only +took the claws, teeth and tenderloin or +two for himself and pack; that is, if he be a +wolf. But we will settle that if your foot +will let you walk a bit.”

+ +

“How far?” I asked.

+ +

“Only over yan way to the first piece of +wet ground, and the trail leads down to tha’ +spring tha’, and tha’ is quite a right smart +bit of muddy swail beyont.”

+ +

“All right, I’ll try it,” I exclaimed. But +I could not touch my foot on the ground, and +it was not until my guide had made me a +crutch of a forked branch, padded with +a piece of fur, that I was able to go limping +along after Big Pete.

+ +

We followed the trail left by the Wild +Hunter to the spring. The trail after that +was plain, even to my inexperienced eyes; +and when we reached the muddy spot the[61] +print of the moccasined feet and the dog-like +tracks of the wolves were distinctly visible.

+ +

But look at Big Pete!

+ +

As motionless as a statue, with a solemn +face he stoops with a rigid figure pointing to +the trail! I hastened to his side and saw that +the moccasin prints ceased in the middle of +an open, bare, muddy place and beyond were +nothing but the dog-like tracks of the wolves.

+ +

I looked up and all around; there were no +overhanging branches that a man could +swing himself upon, no stones that he could +leap upon—nothing but the straggling bunches +of ferns; but here in this open spot the Wild +Hunter vanished.

+ +

We walked back in silence, for I had nothing +to say, and Pete did not volunteer any further +information.

+ + + + +

[62]CHAPTER VI

+ + +

To have one’s nose all but broken, both +eyes blackened and a twisted ankle is a sad +misfortune wherever it occurs, but when such +a thing happens to a fellow many weary miles +from the nearest human habitation and in a +howling wilderness it might be considered +anything but pleasant. Yet, strange as it +may appear, among the most pleasant and +precious memories I have stored away in my +mind, only to be tapped upon special occasions, +is the memory of the glorious days spent nursing +my bruises and lolling around that far-away +camp. Sometimes I listened to the +quaint yarns of my unique and interesting +guide or idly watched the changing colors and +effects which the sun and the atmosphere produced +on the snow-capped mountains of +Darlinkel’s Park. I made friends with our[63] +little neighbors the rock-chuck, whose home +was in the base of the cliff back of the spring, +and became intimate with the golden chipmunk +and its pretty little black and white +cousin, the four-striped chipmunk, both of +which were common and remarkably tame +about camp.

+ +

Back of the camp in the dark shade of the +evergreens there was a bark mound composed +entirely of the fragments of the conifera cones, +which Pete said was the squirrel’s dining room. +This mound contained at least four good cart-loads +of fragments and all of it was the work +of the impudent little blunt-nosed red squirrels, +which were plentiful in the woods.

+ +

How long it took these small rodents to +heap such a mass of material together I was +unable to calculate, but the mound was as +large as some of the shell heaps made by the +ancient oyster-eating men and left by them +along our coast from Florida to Maine.

+ +

The numerous magpies seemed to be conscious +of my admiration of their beautiful[64] +piebald plumage and to take every opportunity +to show off its iridescent hues to the best +advantage in the sunlight.

+ +

Pete evidently thought I was a chap of +very low taste, with a great lack of discrimination +in the choice of my friends among the +forest folk, and he could see no reason for +my intimacy with “all th’ outlaws and most +rascally varmints of the park.”

+ +

Truth compels me to admit that the pranks +of some of my little friends were often mischievous +and annoying, but they were also +humorous and entertaining and I laughed +when the “tallow-head” jay swooped down +and snatched a tid-bit from Pete’s plate just as +he was about to eat it, and when the irate +trapper threw his plate at the camp robber +it was a charming sight to see a number of +birds flutter down to feast upon the scattered +food.

+ +

The loud-mouthed, self-asserting fly-catcher +in the cottonwood tree learned to know my +whistle, and whenever I attempted to mimic[65] +him he would send back a ringing answer. +The charming little lazulii buntings were +tamer than the irritating dirty English sparrows +at home.

+ +

It was interesting to notice how quickly all +our little wild neighbors learned to know that +the sound produced by banging on a tin plate +meant dough-god and other good things at our +camp, and as they came rustling among the +grasses or fluttering from bush and trees they +showed more fear of each other than they did +of Pete and me.

+ +

When the myriads of bright stars would +twinkle in the blue black sky or the great +round-faced moon climb over the mountain +tops to see what was doing in the park, the +birds and chipmunks were quiet, but then +the big pack-rats, with squirrel-like tails, +would troop out from their secret caves and +invade the camp.

+ +

In the gray dawn, while sleeping in a tent, +I often awakened to hear something scamper +up its steep side and then laughed to see the[66] +shadow of a comical little body toboggan +down the canvas. Our pocket-knives, compasses +and all other small objects were never +safe unless securely packed away out of reach +of these nocturnal marauders.

+ +

Our conversations around the camp fire +evenings were highly interesting too, for Big +Pete was a fluent talker with a wealth of +stories of the Great West at his tongue’s end. +Indeed, the story of his family and their +migration west was one that fascinated me. +His father had been a trapper in the old days; +he had done his share of roaming the mountains, +prospecting and making his strikes, +small and large, fighting Indians and living +the strenuous life of the border pioneer. He +had found the woman he afterward married +unconscious under an overturned wagon of +an emigrant train that had been raided by the +Indians, and after nursing her back to health +in his mining shack, had married her. With +money he had worked from the “diggin’s” +he had acquired, by grants from the government,[67] +the beautiful and expansive mountain +park where he had planned to develop a +ranch. He never went very far with his +project, however, for a raiding party of +Indians caught him alone in the mountains +and his wife found his body pinned to the +ground with arrows. The shock of his tragedy +killed Big Pete’s mother soon after, and the +young Peter Darlinkel, then three years old, +went to a nearby settlement to be brought up +by an uncle and a squaw aunt. Pete became +prospector, scout, trapper and hunter, using +this beautiful park that became his as a result +of the passing of his father, as a private game +preserve, so to speak. That is, it was private +except for the intrusion of the Wild Hunter +and his black wolf pack.

+ +

In a fragmentary way Big Pete told me this +story and other interesting tales of this wild +western country, but mostly our conversation +turned to this old man of the mountains who +was such a mystery to everyone, even to Big +Pete, but who, despite the lugubrious reputation,[68] +had proved a kindly gentleman and a +good friend to me.

+ +

There were no visible signs of a change in the +weather which had been clear for weeks, and +the sky was otherwise clear blue save where +the white mares’ tails swept across the heavens. +But when we sat down to supper that evening +I could hear the rumbling of distant thunder. +I knew it was thunder for, although the fall +of avalanches makes the same noise, avalanches +choose the noon time to fall when the +sun is hottest and the snows softest. Soon I +could see the heads of some dark clouds +peering at us over the mountains and before +dark the clouds crept over the mountain tops +and overcast our sky.

+ +

It rained all that night in a fitful manner and +came to a stop about four A. M. The wind +went down and the air seemed to have lost its +vivacity and life; it was a dead atmosphere; +we arose from our blankets feeling tired and +listless.

+ +

While we were eating our breakfast dark[69] +clouds again suddenly obscured the heavens +and before we had finished the meal big drops +of rain set the camp fire spluttering and drove +us to the shelter of our tent; then it rained! +Lord help us! the water came down in such +torrents that on account of the spray we could +not see thirty feet; then came hailstones as +large as hen’s eggs. There was some lightning +and thunder, but either the splashing of the +water drowned the rumbling or the electric +fluid was so far distant that the reports were +not loud when they reached us. Suddenly +there was a ripping noise, followed by a sort +of subdued roar which stampeded our horses +from their shelter under a projecting rock and +made the earth shudder.

+ +

“Earthquake!” I exclaimed.

+ +

“Wuss,” said Pete, “hit’s a landslide.”

+ +

Instantly a thought went through my brain +like a hot bullet and made me shudder.

+ +

“Pete,” I shouted.

+ +

“I’m right hyer, tenderfut, you needn’t holler +so loud,” he answered, and calmly filled his pipe.

+ +

[70]I flung myself impulsively on my companion, +grasped his big brawny shoulders, and +with my face close to his I whispered, “Pete, +I believe the slide occurred at the gate.”

+ +

“Well, hit did sound that-a-way,” admitted +Pete composedly.

+ +

“Pete,” I continued, “that butte has caved +in on our trail!”

+ +

“Wull, tenderfut, we ain’t hurt, be we? +Tha’s plenty of game here fur the tak’n of it +and plenty of water, as fine as ever spouted +from old Moses’ rock, right at hand. If the +Mesa’s cut our trail we can live well here for +a hundred years and not have to chew wolf +mutton neither. I don’t reckon I can go to +York with you just yet,” drawled my comrade +in a most provokingly imperturbable manner, +as he slowly freed himself from my grasp and +made for the camp fire, which being to a great +extent sheltered by an overhanging rock, was +still smouldering in spite of the drenching rain. +Raking the ashes until he found a red glowing +coal, Pete deftly picked it up and by juggling[71] +it from one hand to the other, he conducted +the live ember to his pipe-bowl, then he puffed +away as calmly as if there was nothing in this +world to trouble him.

+ +

“If the gate be shut,” he resumed, “it will +keep out prospectors, tramps and Injuns.” +With that he went to smoking his red-willow[1] +bark again.

+ +

[1] The trappers and Indians made Kil-i-ki-nic, or Kinnikinick, by +mixing tobacco with the inside bark of red willow, which is the +common name for the red osier of the dogwood family. Editor.

+ +

But I could not view the situation so complacently, +and when the rain had ceased as +suddenly as it began, with some difficulty I +caught my horse and made my way to the +gate, to discover that my worst fears were +realized; a large section of the cliff had split +off the Mesa and slid down into the narrow +gateway completely filling the space and +leaving a wall of over one hundred feet of +sheer precipice for us to climb before we could +escape from our Eden-like prison.

+ +

Again a wave of superstitious dread swept +over me as I viewed the tightly closed exit, +[72]a dread that perhaps after all there was more +to Big Pete’s superstitions about the Wild +Hunter than I dared to admit, else why should +that cliff which had stood for thousands of +years take this opportunity to split off and +choke up the ancient trail?

+ +

The longer I questioned myself, the less +was my ability to answer. I sat on a stone +and for some time was lost in thought. When +at length I looked up it was to see Big Pete +with folded arms silently gazing at the barricaded +exit and the muddy pool of water extending +for some distance back of the gateway +into the park.

+ +

“Well, tenderfut, you was dead right in +your judication. The gate air shut sure +’nuff. Our horses ain’t likely to take the +back trail and leave us, that’s sartin.”

+ +

“Oh, Pete,” I exclaimed, “how will we ever +get out? Must we spend the remainder of +our lives here?”

+ +

“It do look as if we’d stop hyer a right +smart bit,” he admitted, “maybe till this[73] +hyer holler between the mountains all fills +with water agin like it was onct before, I +reckon. Don’t you think that we’d better get +busy and build a Noah’s Ark?”

+ +

“Pete, you’d joke if the world came to an +end. But seriously I think we might move +our camp back to the far end of your park.”

+ + + + +

[74]CHAPTER VII

+ + +

One day after we had selected our new camp, +I took my rod along and wandered into the +wonderful forest of ancient trees. There I +seated myself on a log to think over my experience. +Somehow my own trials and ambitions +seemed small, trivial and not worth +while when I looked upon those grand trees +standing silently on guard as they were standing +when Columbus was busy smashing a hard-boiled +egg to make it stand on end. Yes, +naturalists tell us some of these same trees +were standing before the New Testament was +written and then as now their branches concealed +their lofty tops and formed a screen +through which the powerful rays of the noon-day +sun are filtered, refined and subdued to a +dreamy twilight below, a twilight in which +the soft green mosses and lace-like ferns thrive +into luxuriant growth.

+ +

[75]It was so still and quiet in that forest that +the silence seemed to hurt my ears and I +found myself listening to see if I could not hear +the deep dark blue blossoms of the fringed +gentians whispering scandals about the flaming +Indian paint brushes that flourished in +the opening in the woods where the sun’s +ray could reach and warm the dark earth. +As I listened I could not help but speculate +a great deal as to the possibilities of the odd +old man of this forest being in some way +connected with my father’s history, but the +story of the wolf-man as given to me by my +big companion was so varied and so mixed +with the superstitions of the Indians and +trappers who had come in contact with him, +or had seen him and his weird wolf pack +roaming the mountains, that I could not +in any way take it as the basis for a solution +of the problem.

+ +

Indeed, the more Big Pete told me the less +I believed that this strange and probably +mad man could be my father. In truth, the[76] +only real clue or even faint reason I had for +believing that he owned the missing “Patrick +Mullen” was because this gun at a distance +seemed to correspond with the description of +the Mullen’s gun. It was a faint clue indeed +and sometimes seemed not worth investigation. +Yet when I began to doubt the possibility +an unexplained impulse or force kept +urging me on to believe that if I but persisted +and found an opportunity to examine this gun +it would prove to be the one I sought, and if I +had a chance to talk to this strange Wild +Hunter much of the mystery that surrounded +my own babyhood would be cleared up, so +I found myself earnestly longing for a real +interview with this mysterious creature.

+ +

The more I thought of it the more I was +inclined to believe that I was on the right +track, until at last convinced that this was so, +I cried aloud, “I have found him!”

+ +

“Who! Who!” queried a startled owl, as it +peered down at me from its hiding place in +the dense foliage of a cedar far above.

+ +

[77]“Never mind who, you old rascal,” I laughingly +replied, and picking up my fishing-rod I +parted the underbrush to start on my way +through the wood for some trout, but suddenly +halted when I found myself staring into the +face of a huge timber wolf. The beast’s lips +were drawn back displaying its gleaming fangs, +its back hair was as erect as the cropped mane +of a pony, its mongolian eyes shone green +through their narrow slits and its whole attitude +seemed to say, “Well, now that you have +found me, what do you propose to do?”

+ +

Now, boys, do not make any mistake about +me, I am not a hero and never posed as one; +in truth my timidity at times amounts to +cowardice, a fact which I usually keep to +myself, but I never was afraid of wolves +until I so unexpectedly met this one. It is +needless to say that I have no hair on my back, +it is as bare as that of any other fellow’s, +nevertheless, on this occasion I could distinctly +feel my bristles rise from the nape of my neck +to the end of my spine, just the same as those[78] +on the oblique-eyed, shaggy monster whose +snapping teeth were so near my face.

+ +

Everybody is familiar with the fact that +people who have had limbs amputated often +complain of pains or itching in the missing +members. My missing back hair, the hair +which my ancestors lost by the slow process +of evolution, the hair which grew on the back +of the “missing link,” stood on end at the +sight of this wolf. However, this fear was +but momentary and when my courage returned +I lifted my rod case in a threatening +manner, and the wolf slunk away as noiselessly +as a shadow, and like a shadow faded +out of sight in the dim twilight of the ancient +forest. When I reached the open land beyond +the forest another surprise awaited me.

+ +

Surely this is heaven, I thought as I waded +knee-deep among the beautiful flowers of the +prairie, starting the sharp pin-tailed grouse, +prairie chickens and sage grouse from their +retreats and sending the meadow-larks skimming +away over flowering billows. Reaching[79] +an elevation where I could peer beyond the +crests of one of the “ground swells” which +furrowed the sea of nodding blossoms, I saw +through the stems of the plants, a part of the +prairie at first concealed from view, and there +appeared to be numerous irregular boulders +of dark brown stone scattered around among +the vegetation, and the boulders were moving!

+ +

Careful scrutiny, however, proved them to +be not stones but live buffalo. Big Pete +had often told me that these animals lived +unmolested by him in the park; but when I +realized that I was looking at between three +and four hundred real buffalo my heart gave +a great jump of joy. I tried to view them so +as to take in their details, but the apparently +shapeless masses of dark reddish brown wool +appeared to have none, unless indeed the +comical fur trousers with frayed bottoms on +their front legs might be called detail.

+ +

Even the faces of the beasts were so concealed +by masks of knotted wool that at first +I could distinguish neither eyes, noses, horns[80] +or ears; but in spite of their ragged trousers +and their masked faces, the bison are sublime +in their mighty strength and ponderous proportions, +and as this was the first wild herd +I had ever seen and one of the very few, if +not the only one, then extant, I viewed them +with the keenest interest.

+ +

But the scattered bunches of antelope, which +I now noticed were dotting the plains around +the buffalo, appealed to my love of the beautiful. +Knowing that in other localities these +charming little creatures are rapidly being +slaughtered and steadily decreasing in numbers +and that all attempts to breed them in +captivity have so far failed, they at once +absorbed my attention to the exclusion of +their larger neighbors.

+ +

When we moved our camp to the far side +of the lake, Big Pete told me that I could find +plenty of trout streams beyond the timber +belt, and he also informed me that I could +there see the walls of the park and satisfy +myself that there was but one trail leading +into the preserve.

+ +

[81]I do not now recall the sort of walls that +were pictured in my mind or know what I +really expected to see enclosing Darlinkel’s +Park, but I do know that when I suddenly +emerged from the dark forests into the sunlit +prairie, the scene which greeted my vision +was not the one painted by my imagination.

+ +

Before me stretched an open plain surrounded +by mountains arising abruptly from +a bed of many colored flowers; they were the +same ranges whose snow-covered peaks formed +a feature of the landscape at the lake and at +our first camp.

+ +

Here, however, their appearance was different, +as different as the dark forest from +the open sunlit prairie. The scene at first +did not seem real, it had a sort of a drop-curtain +effect that was as familiar to me as +the row of footlights and gilded boxes, but +never did I expect to see those delicate tints, +that blue atmosphere, the fresco colored rocks +and all the theatrical properties of a drop-curtain +duplicated in nature, yet here it was[82] +before me, not a detail wanting, even the +impossible mammoth bed of gaudy flowers at +the foot of the mountain was here and the +numerous cascades had not been forgotten. +Well, it does seem wonderful to me that +unknown theatrical daubers should know so +much more of nature than the public for +whom they paint.

+ +

But, nature is a bolder artist than even the +daring scenic painters; in front of me was a +prairie of flowers, acres and acres of waving, +undulating masses of color; thousands of +Arizona wyetha (wild sunflowers) mingled +with the brilliant tips of the fire-weed and +clumps of odorous and delicately colored +horsemint. There were other flowers unfamiliar +to me and hundreds of big blossoms of +what I took to be a member of the primrose +family. It was in this garden that the +buffalo and antelope were grazing.

+ +

An old buck antelope saw me and I instantly +dropped to the ground and was concealed by +the flowering vegetation. I wanted to see[83] +the home life of these animals, but was +disappointed because of the attention I had +attracted. When first discovered the does +were browsing with heads down and the kids +were playing tag with one another, every once +in a while spreading the white hair on their +rumps and then lowering the “white flag” +again, they apparently used it as a Morse +signal system of their own. But now they +were all alert and facing me; the bucks had +seen something and that something had +suddenly disappeared. This must be investigated, +so they circled round hesitatingly; the +apparition might be a foe but still they must +satisfy their curiosity and discover what it was +of which they had had a moment’s glimpse +and thus they approached nearer and ever +nearer to my place of concealment.

+ +

Soon, however, I became aware of the fact +that the antelope had unaccountably lost all +thought of me and were deeply interested in +something else which from their actions I +concluded to be recognized as an enemy.[84] +It was now apparent that if Big Pete did not +hunt the prong-horns someone or something +else did hunt them.

+ +

As a bunch broke away from the scattered +groups and came in my direction, making great +leaps over the prairie, I detected the cause of +their panic in the form of a huge eagle which +was keeping pace with and flying over the +fleeing prong-horns.

+ +

The bird was not more than a dozen feet +above the animals’ backs and in vain did +the poor creatures try to distance their +pursuer. At length they scattered, each one +taking a course of his own. Then the bird did +a strange thing. It singled out the largest +buck and persistently following him, it came +directly towards me and passed within ten +feet of my ambush, the broad wings of the +antelope’s relentless foe casting a dark shadow +over the straining muscles of the beautiful +animal’s back. I was tempted to drive the +bird away or shoot at it with my revolver, +but the thought that I had seen that bird[85] +before restrained me and the fact that it pursued +a strong, healthy buck instead of selecting +a weaker and more easy prey convinced me +that this eagle had been trained to the hunt +and was not a wild[2] bird, for the immutable +law that “labor follows the line of least resistance” +holds good with all wild creatures. +It was not long before I had to use my field +glasses to follow the chase and then I discovered +that the poor prong-horn was showing +signs of fatigue. It had made a grave error +in dashing up an incline and the eagle from +his position above knew that the time had +come to strike and, like a thunderbolt, it +fell, striking its hooked talons in the graceful +neck of the terror-stricken antelope.

+ +

[2] The late Howard Eaton of Wolf, Wyoming, watched an eagle +hunt down a prong-horned buck.—Editor.

+ +

Hoping to get a nearer view of the last +tragedy, I hastened towards the spot and +before I was aware of my position, found +myself close to the herd of buffalo. I then +saw that these beasts being unaccustomed to +[86]man, did not fear him, but on the contrary +meant to show fight. As I came to a sudden +halt the old bulls began to paw the earth, +throwing the dirt up over their backs and +bellowing with a low vibrating roar that was +terror-inspiring. Then they dropped to their +knees, rolled on their backs, got up, shook +themselves, licked their noses, “rolled up their +tails” into stiff curves, put down their heads +and came at me. The cows with their hair +standing on end like angry elks and bellowing +loudly were not behind their lords in aggressiveness +and the comical little calves came +bouncing along after their dame.

+ +

Was I frightened? That depends upon +one’s definition of the word. I was not +panic-stricken, but to say that I was not +excited when I saw those animated masses +of dark brown wool come roaring and thundering +at me would be to make boast that no +one who has had a similar experience would +believe.

+ +

Fortunately, not far behind me was the[87] +hollow or gully already mentioned and I +bolted over the edge of it. As soon as the bank +concealed my person I ran as I never ran +before taking a course at right angles to my +original one and leeward of the herd, and at +last, out of breath, I rolled over in the weeds +and lay there panting and straining my ears +to hear the snorting beasts.

+ +

My chest felt dry, hot and oppressed from +forced and labored breathing, and had the +buffalo discovered me I do not think I could +have run another step. But the big brutes +halted at the edge of the bank and seeing no +one in sight walked around pawing and throwing +up great clouds of dust and in their rage +apparently daring me to come forth. Like +a small boy when he hears a challenge from +a gang of toughs, I decided that I did not want +to fight and lay as quiet as possible among +the sunflowers until I had regained my breath. +When the buffalo wandered back to their +original pasture land I, like a coyote, slunk +away and consoled myself with the thought[88] +that although I had had my run for my money, +at least, I had seen the death of the antelope +even if I did miss again seeing the Wild +Hunter “collar his game,” as Big Pete would +have called the act of securing it. Besides +this I had a real exciting adventure with +good red-blooded American animals and +learned the lesson that large horned beasts +which have not been taught to fear man are +exceedingly dangerous to man.

+ + + + +

[89]CHAPTER VIII

+ + +

Rising abruptly from the prairie was a +frowning precipice a thousand or more feet +high and above and beyond the top of this +cliff, the mountains.

+ +

When Big Pete told me that his park was +“walled in” he told me the mildest sort of +truth; the prairie is the bottom of a wide +canyon, in fact everything seems to indicate +that the whole park had settled, sunk—“taken +a drop” of a thousand or more feet; +forming what miners would call a fault.

+ +

From the glaciers up among the clouds +numerous streams of melted ice came dashing +down the sides of the mountain range, fanciful +cascades leaping without fear from most +stupendous heights spreading out in long +horse-tail falls over the face of the cliff, doing +everything but looking real. At the foot of[90] +each of the falls there was a pool of deep +water, in one or two instances the pools were +smooth basins hollowed out of solid rock +in which the water was as transparent as air +and but for the millions of air bubbles caused +by the falling water every inch of bottom +could be plainly seen by an observer at the +brink of the pool.

+ +

The trout in these basins were almost as +colorless as the water itself (the light color +of the fish is due to their chameleon-like +power of modifying their hue to imitate their +surroundings)—this mimicry is so perfect +that after looking into one of these stone +basins, the rounded smooth sides of which +offered no shade or nook where a trout might +hide, I was ready to declare the waters uninhabited +but no sooner had my brown hackel +or professor settled lightly on the surface of +the pool than out from among the air bubbles +a fish appeared and seized the fly.

+ +

My sprained ankle was now so much improved +that upon discovering a diagonal[91] +fracture in the face of the cliff, which looked +as if offering a foot hold, and feeling reckless, +I determined to make the effort to scale the +wall at this point.

+ +

If the giant “fault” is of comparatively +recent occurrence, geologically speaking, it +seemed reasonable that there would be trout +in the streams above the cliff and the memory +of the fact that Pete had reported that both +Rocky Mountain sheep and goats were up +there decided me to attempt to scale the wall +by the fracture. It was a long, hard climb +and more than once while I clung to the +chance projections or dug my fingers into +small cracks and looked down upon the backs +of some golden eagle sailing in spirals below +me, I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt, +but when the top was reached and I saw +signs of sheep and had a peep at a white +object I took to be a goat, I felt repaid for my +arduous climb.

+ +

The elevated prairie or table-land on which +I found myself corresponded in every important[92] +particular with the park below; there +were the same natural divisions of prairie +and forests, the same erratic boulders, but +on account of the difference in elevation there +was a corresponding difference in plant life, +and most interesting of all to me, there were +the trout streams. The tablelands above +the park were comparatively level in places +where the stream ran almost as quietly as a +meadow brook, but these level stretches were +interrupted at short distance by foaming +rapids, jagged rocks and roaring falls.

+ +

My angler’s instinct told me that the +biggest fish lurked in the deep pools, to reach +which it was necessary to creep and worm +myself over the open flats of sharp stones +and patches of heather, but once on the vantage +ground the swish of a trout rod sounded +there for the first time since the dawn of +Creation.

+ + +
+

+

More than once while I clung to the chance projection ... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt

+
+ + + + +

[93]

There was an audible splash at my first cast. +My, how that reel did sing! Before I realized +it, my fish had reached rapid water and taken +out a dangerous amount of line; still I dared +not check him too severely among the sharp +rocks and swift waters, so I ran along the +bank, stumbling over stones, but managing +to avail myself of every opportunity to wind +in the line until I had the satisfaction of +seeing enough line on my reel to prepare me +for possible sudden dashes and emergencies.

+ +

Ah! that was a glorious fight, and when at +last I was able to steer my tired fish into +shallow water I saw there were three of them, +one lusty trout on each of my three flies. +I had no landing net so I gently slid the almost +exhausted fish onto a gravel bar and as I did +so I experienced one of those delightful thrills +which comes to a fellow’s lot but once or twice +in a life-time. But it was not because I had +captured three at a strike, for I have done +that before and since, but I thrilled because +they were not only a new and strange kind +of trout, but they were of the color and sheen +of newly minted gold. Never before had any +man seen such trout.

+ +

[94]I have since been informed that I had +blundered on to water inhabited by the rarest +of all game fish, the so-called golden trout, +which has since been discovered and which +scientists declare to be pre-glacier fish left +by some accident of nature to exist in a new +world in which all their original contemporaries +have long been extinct.

+ +

Think of it! Fish which had never seen an +artificial fly nor had any family traditions +of experiences with them. It is little wonder +that they would jump at a brown hackle, a +professor or even a gaudy salmon fly. Why +they would jump at a chicken feather! They +were ready and eager to bite at any sort of +bunco game I saw fit to play upon them. +They were veritable hayseeds of the trout +family, but when they felt the hook in their +lips, the wisest trout in the world could not +show a craftier nor half as plucky a fight. +They would leap from the water like small-mouthed +bass and by shaking their heads, +try to throw off the hateful hook.

+ +

[95]The constant vigorous exercise of leaping +water-falls and forging up boiling rapids had +developed these sturdy mountaineer trout +into prodigies of strength and endurance. +Even now my nerves tingle to the tips of +my toes as in fancy I hear my reel hum or see +the tip of my five ounce split bamboo bend +so as to almost form a circle.

+ +

I fished that stream with hands trembling +with excitement and had filled my creel with +the rare fish before I began to notice other +objects of interest. Suddenly I became aware +of the presence of two birds hovering over and +diving under the cold water. They were +evidently feeding on some aquatic creature +which my duller senses could not discern.

+ +

Although they were the first of the kind +that I had ever seen alive, I at once recognized +the feathered visitors to be water ouzels. +The birds preceded me on my way along the +water course towards camp, and were never +quiet a minute. They would hop on a rock +in mid-stream and bob up and down in a most[96] +solemn but comical manner for a moment +before plunging fearlessly into the cold white +spray of the falls or the swift dashing current, +where they would disappear below the surface +only to reappear once more on another rock to +bob again.

+ +

A ducking did not trouble the ouzels, for +as they came out of the water the liquid rolled +in crystal drops from their feathers and their +plumage was as dry as if it had never been +submerged. The wilder and swifter the cold +glacier water ran the more the birds seemed +to enjoy it.

+ +

The nearer I approached the edge of the +precipitous walls, enclosing the valley comprising +Big Pete’s park, the rougher grew the +trail, and as I was picking my way I paused +to gaze at the distant purple peaks and watch +the sun set in that lonely land as if I was +witnessing it for the first time. As my eyes +roamed over the stupendous distance and +unnamed mountains I felt my own puny +insignificance, as who has not when confronted +with the vastness of nature.

+ +

[97]I turned from my view of the sunset to +retrace my steps to the valley, and peeping +over the top of a large boulder, saw seated +upon an inaccessible crag directly in front of +me, a gigantic figure of a man clad in a hunter’s +garb, and he was smoking a long cigar!

+ +

When I thought of Big Pete’s description +of how the Wild Hunter was wont to sit with +his long legs dangling from some rock while +he smoked one of those unprocurable cigars, +and when I realized that the figure before me +was fully sixty feet tall, I must confess to +experiencing a queer sensation.

+ +

It was a shadowy figure yet it moved, +arose, held out one hand, and a bird as large +as the fabled roc alighted on the wrist of the +outstretched hand.

+ +

A slight breeze sprang up, the white mists +from the valley rolled up the mountainside +and drifted away and the man and bird +disappeared from view.

+ +

It was long after dark when I reached camp +and was greeted by my friend and guide with +“Gol durn your pictur tenderfut, if it hain’t[98] +tuk you longer to get a pesky mess of yaller +fish than it orter to kill a bar.”

+ +

“Little wonder,” thought I, “that the +Wild Hunter used golden bullets in a land +where even the fish’s scales seemed to be of +the same precious metal”; but I said nothing +as I sat down to clean my “yaller trout.”

+ + + + +

[99]CHAPTER IX

+ + +

It was always interesting to me when I +could get Pete’s theories and his brand of +philosophy on almost any subject and it was +my intention that night at supper to lead up +to the apparition I had seen on the cliffs that +day. With a substantial supper tucked away +I was in a better frame of mind to realize that +the illusion I had seen was not uncommon in +mountain districts. I recalled that I had +read of, and seen pictures of, a particular +illusion of this nature that is often present in +the Hartz Mountains in Germany and I knew +full well that the setting sun, the mist and the +atmospheric condition had all contributed +to throwing a greatly enlarged shadow of the +real Wild Hunter onto the screen made by the +mist very much as today a motion picture +increases the size of the small film image when +it is thrown on the movie screen.

+ +

[100]I intended to get Big Pete’s idea on the +subject but I never did for I was not adroit +enough to steer the conversation in that +direction, for Big Pete seized my first statement +and made it a subject for a veritable +lecture.

+ +

“There was a smashing lot of those trout +up there, Pete. Bet I could have brought +home all I could have carried if I had been a +game hog,” I said, as I stirred the fire with a +stick and set the coffee pot nearer the flames +to warm a second cup.

+ +

“You see, tenderfut, it’s like this,” he said, +“when a man goes out to kill a deer for the +fun of blood-spilling or to get th’ poor critter’s +head to hang in his shack, he’s nothing more +than a wolf or butcher; hain’t half as good a +man as the one who never shot a deer, but +goes back home and lies about it. The liar +hain’t harmed nothin’ with his lies. His +fairy stories don’t hurt game an’ they be +interesting to the tenderfuts in the States. +The real sportsman is the pot-hunter. Yes,[101] +that’s jist what I mean, a pot-hunter—he’s +out ’cause the camp kettle is empty, and it’s +up agin him to fill it or starve. Now then, +this fellow is not after blood; nor trophies, nor +is he hunting for the market. It’s self-preservation +with him, that’s what it is. +He’s an animal along with the rest of ’em and +he knows he’s got jest as much a right to +live as tha’ have and no more! He’s hustling +for his living along with the bunch, forcing it +from savage nature, and I tell you boy, there +is no greater physical pleasure in life than +holding old Mother Nature up and just +saying to her, ‘You’ve got a living for me, +ole’ gal, and I’m going to get it.’

+ +

“Such talk pleases the old lady, makes her +your friend ’cause she likes your spunk, and +because of it she’ll give you the wind of a grey +wolf, the step of the panther, the strength of +the buffalo and the courage of a lion. She is +always generous with her favorites. Ah! +lad, she kin make your blood dance in your +veins, make fire flash from your eyes and give[102] +you the steady nerve necessary to face a +she-grizzly when she is fightin’ for her cubs.”

+ +

“Why? ’cause you see, you are a grizzly +yourself when the camp kettle is empty!” +And Big Pete relapsed into silence, turned his +attention to his tin platter, examining it +carefully, and then with a piece of dough-god, +carefully wiped the platter clean and contentedly +munched the savory bit.

+ +

The reason, that being locked into Big Pete’s +park in the mountains struck me as being very +serious, was because I realized that although +the park was extensive it was completely +surrounded by a practically unsurmountable +barrier of rugged cliffs and mountains negotiable, +as far as I knew, not even by the sure-footed +mountain sheep and goats which we +could occasionally see on the cliffs from the +valley floor, but never saw in the park itself. +I questioned Big Pete and found that he did +not know of a trail up the cliffs.

+ +

“Though,” he said, “there must be some +sort of a one for that tha’ Wild Hunter gits[103] +in an’ out and brings his wolf pack along too. +He knows a trail all right an’ ef he knows it +why it’s up to us to find it, too.”

+ +

“Maybe we can trail him,” I suggested.

+ +

“Trail him! Me? With that wolf pack +clingin’ to his heels? Not while I’m alive!”

+ +

That was the last that was said about trailing +the Wild Hunter for some time to come, +but meanwhile we built a more or less open +faced permanent camp and Big Pete initiated +me into mysteries of real woodcraft, for it was +up to us now to live on the land, so to speak.

+ +

Although hard usage had made havoc with +my tailormade clothes, neither time nor the +elements seemed to affect the personal appearance +of my big companion; his buckskin suit +was apparently as clean and fresh as it was on +the day I first met him. There was no magic +in this. Big Pete knew how to clamber all +day through a windfall without leaving the +greater part of his clothes on the branches, a +feat few hunters and no tenderfoot have yet +been able to accomplish.

+ +

[104]As I have already said, Pete was a dude, +but he was what might be called a self-perpetuating +dude, who never ran to seed no +matter how long he might be separated from +the city tailor shops, for Pete was his own +tailor, barber and valet, and the wilderness +supplied the material for his costume.

+ +

In the camp he was as busy as an old +housewife, and occupied his leisure time +mending, stitching and darning. Many a +morning my own toilet consisted of a face +wash at the spring, but my guide seldom +failed to spend as much time prinking as if he +expected distinguished visitors!

+ +

Instead of “Tenderfoot,” Big Pete now +called me “Le-loo,” which I understand is +Chinook for wolf and I took so much pride in +my promotion that I would not have changed +clothes with the Prince of Wales; I gloried in +my wild, unkempt appearance!

+ +

Nevertheless, Big Pete announced that he +was the Hy-as-ty-ee (big boss) and he forthwith +declared that my costume was unsuitable for[105] +the approaching cold weather. There was +no disputing that Big Pete was Hy-as-ty-ee +and I agreed to wear whatever clothes he +should make for me, and can say with no fear +of dispute that if that ancient chump, Robinson +Crusoe, had had a Big Pete for a partner +in place of a man Friday, he would have never +made himself his outlandish goatskin clothes +and a clumsy umbrella.

+ +

From a cache in the rocks Pete brought forth +a miscellaneous lot of trappers’ stores, bone +needles made from the splints of deer’s legs, +elk’s teeth with holes bored through them, +and odds and ends of all kinds.

+ +

Among his stuff was a supply of salt-petre +and alum, and this was evidently the material +for which he was searching for he at once +preceeded to make a mixture of two parts +salt-petre to one of alum and applied the +pulverized compound to the fleshy side of the +skins, then doubling the raw side of the hides +together he rolled them closely and placed the +hides in a cool place where they were allowed[106] +to remain for several days; when at length +unrolled, the skins were still moist.

+ +

“Just right, by Gosh,” he exclaimed, as he +took a dull knife and carefully removed all +particles of fat or flesh which here and there +adhered to the hide. After this was done +to his satisfaction we both took hold and +rubbed, and mauled and worked the skins with +our hands until the hides were as soft and as +pliable as flannel. Thus was the material for +my winter clothing prepared.

+ +

It took four whole deer-skins to furnish +stuff for my buckskin shirt with the beautiful +long fringes at the seams; but the whole garment +was cut, sewed and finished in a day’s +time. It was sewed with thread made of +sinew.

+ +

When it came to making the coat and trousers +Big Pete spent a long time in solemn +thought before he was ready to begin work on +these garments; at length he looked up with a +broad smile and cried:

+ +

“See here, Le-loo, I have taken a fancy to[107] +them ’ere tenderfut pants o’ your’n. Off with +’em now an’ I’ll jist cut out the new ones from +the old uns.” In vain I pleaded with him to +make my trousers like his own; he would not +listen to me, he insisted upon having my ragged +but stylish knickerbockers to use as a pattern.

+ + + + +

[108]CHAPTER X

+ + +

Big Pete was an expert backwoods tailor, +shoemaker and shirtmaker, but these were +but few of his accomplishments, not his trade; +he was first, last and aways a hunter and +scout. No matter what occupation seemed +to engage his attention for the time it never +interfered with his ability to hear, see or smell.

+ +

It was while I was going around camp minus +my lower garments that I saw Pete suddenly +throw up his head and suspiciously sniff the +air, at the same time sharply scanning the +windward side of our camp. Living so long +with this strange man made me familiar with +his actions and quick to detect anything +unusual and I now knew that something of +interest had happened. To the windward and +close by us was a mound thickly covered with +bullberry bushes and underbrush, and so far +as could be seen there was nothing suspicious[109] +in the appearance of the thicket. Fixing my +eyes on Big Pete, I saw a peculiar expression +spread over his face which seemed to be half +of mirth and half of wonderment, and I +immediately knew that his wonderful nose +had warned him of the presence of something +to the windward.

+ +

Slowly and quietly he laid aside my almost +finished breeches and silently stole away. +It was only a few minutes before he returned +with a very solemn face.

+ +

“Doggone my corn shucked bones, Le-loo, +we’ve had a visitor but it got away mighty +slick and quick. I hain’t determint yit +whether it wa’ man er beast er both, er jist a +thing wha’ might change into ’tother. We’ll +hafter investigate later. Here git these duds +on.”

+ +

When I put on my new elk-hide knickerbockers +with cuffs of dressed buckskin laced +around my calves, and my beautiful soft +buckskin shirt tucked in at the waist I began +to feel like a real Nimrod, but after I added my[110] +“Moo-loch-Capo,” the shooting jacket with +elk-teeth buttons, pulled a pair of shank +moccasins over my feet and donned a cap +made of lynx skin, I was as happy as a child +with its Christmas stocking. It was a really +wonderful suit of clothing; the hair of the elk +hide was on the outside, and not only made the +coat and breeches warmer, but helped to shed +the rain. The buttons of the elk-teeth were +fastened on with thongs run through holes in +their centers, and my coat could be laced up +after the fashion of a military overcoat. The +elk’s teeth served as frogs and loops of rawhide +answered for the braid that is used on military +coats.

+ +

My shank moccasins were made by first +making a cut around each of the hind legs of an +elk, at a sufficient distance above the heels to +leave hide enough for boot legs and making +another cut far enough below the heels to +make room for one’s feet. The fresh skins +when peeled off looked like rude stockings with +holes at the toes. The skins were turned[111] +wrong side out, and the open toes closed by +bringing the lower part, or sole, up over the +opening and sewing it there after the manner of +a tip to the modern shoe. When this novel +foot-gear was dry enough for the purpose, +Big Pete ornamented the legs with quaint +colored designs made with split porcupine +quills colored with dyes which Pete himself +had manufactured of roots and barks.

+ +

Dressed in my unique and picturesque +costume I stood upright while Pete surveyed +me with the pride and satisfaction of one who +had done a fine piece of work. I had now little +fear of being called a tenderfoot and when I +viewed my reflection in the spring I felt quite +proud of my appearance.

+ +

“Come along now old scout,” said Pete +viewing me with the pride of an artist, “come +along and let me test you on a real trail. +I want to see what my teaching has done for +you.”

+ +

Pete led me through the underbrush to a +point among the rocks.

+ +

[112]“Tha’. A trail begins right under yore +nose; let’s see what you make of it,” he said +crisply.

+ +

Down on all fours I crept over the ground +and, to my surprise and joy, I found that I +could here and there detect a turned leaf the +twist of which indicated the direction taken +by the party who made the trail. I noticed +that the bits of wood, pine cones and sticks +scattered around were darker on the parts +next to the ground, and it only required +simple reasoning for me to conclude that +when the dark side was uppermost the object +had been recently disturbed and rolled over.

+ +

It was a day of great discoveries. I found +that what is true of the sticks is equally true +of the pebbles and a displaced fragment of +stone immediately caught my eyes. With +the tenacity of a bloodhound I stuck to my task +until I suddenly found myself at the base of +the park wall, at the foot of the diagonal +fracture in the face of the cliff where I had +climbed when I discovered the golden trout.[113] +As I have said, the fracture led diagonally up +the towering face of the beetling precipice.

+ +

For fear that I might have made some +mistake I carefully retraced my steps backward +toward the bullberry bushes near the +camp. On the back trail I came upon some +distinct and obvious footprints in a dusty +place, but so deeply interested was I in hidden +signs, the slight but tell-tale disturbances of +leaf and soil, that I once passed these plainly +marked tracks with only a glance and would +have done so the second time had not their +marked peculiarities accidentally caught my +attention.

+ +

When examining the trail of this mysterious +camp visitor I suddenly realized that in place +of moccasin footprints I was following bear +tracks, my heart ceased to beat for a moment +or two before I could pull myself together and +smother the prehensile footed superstitious +old savage in me with the practical philosophy +of the up-to-date man of today.

+ +

Taking a short cut I ran back to the foot of[114] +the pass and there, on hands and knees, +ascended for a hundred feet or more—the +bear steps led up the pass, and yet at the +beginning of the trail the feet wore moccasins. +This I knew because at one place the foot-mark +showed plainly in the gray alkali dust +which had accumulated upon a projecting +stone a few feet below the ledge. Obviously +whoever the visitor was, he had entered and +left by this pass. Returning to camp I sat +down on a log lost in thought. My reverie +was at last broken by the voice of my guide +quietly remarking. “Well, Le-loo, what’s +your judication?”

+ +

“Pete,” I said, “that bear walks on its +hind-legs; there is not the sign of a forefoot +anywhere along the trail. Now this could +not be caused by the hind feet obliterating +the tracks of the front feet, because in many +places the pass is so steep that the forefeet +in reaching out for support would make +tracks not overlapped by the hind ones.”

+ +

“That’s true, Le-loo; sartin true. If you[115] +live to be a hundred years you’ll make as +good a trailer as the great Greaser trailer of +New Mexico, Dolores Sanchez, or my old +friend Bill Hassler, who could follow a six-month-old +trail,” replied my guide. “But,” +he continued, “maybe witch-bears do walk on +their hind legs same as people.”

+ +

“Witch be blamed!” I cried impatiently; +“this is no four-legged witch nor bear either. +That was a man and when he thought he +would be followed he put on moccasins made +from bears’ paws to leave a disguised trail. +And moreover I believe that man is none other +than the Wild Hunter without his wolf pack. +And that pass is the pathway he takes in and +out of this park. I’m going to trail him +whether you want to or not. Goodbye Pete, +I’ll come back for you,” and picking up my gun +and other necessary traps, I prepared to start +immediately upon my journey, for I felt that +to follow this trail would not only get us out of +our park prison but would lead me to the +abode of the Wild Hunter, where perhaps I[116] +could talk with him and learn some of the +things I was so eager to know about my +parents.

+ +

Big Pete looked at me solemnly for a while, +ran over the cartridges in his belt and went +through all those familiar unconscious motions +which betokened danger ahead, and said, +“Le-loo, you are a quare critter; you’re not +afraid of all the werwolves, medicine ba’rs and +ghosts in this world or the next, but tarnally +afeared of live varmints like grizzly bars—one +would think you had no religion, but, gosh all +hemlock! If you can face a bear-man or a +werwolf, even though all the Hy-as Ecutocks +of the mountains show fight, I’ll be cornfed +if I don’t stand by ye! Barring the Wild +Hunter, I don’t know as I ever ran agin a +Ecutock yit; that is if he be a Ecutock. +Maybe he’s a Econe? Yes, I reckon that’s +what he is,” continued Pete reflectively.

+ +

“Maybe he is a pine cone,” I laughed. +Then added, “Whatever he is, he knows the +way out of this park of yours and I am going +to follow him,” I emphatically answered.

+ +

[117]“That’s howsomever!” exclaimed my guide +approvingly; “but,” he continued, “the mountains +are kivered with snow, while it is still +summer down here, so I reckon ’twould be +the proper wrinkle for us to pull our things +together, have a good feed and a good sleep +before we start. White men start off hot-headed +and I kinder like their grit, but Injuns +stop and sot by the fire an’ smoke an’ think +afore they start on a raid an’ I kinder think +they be wiser in this than we ’uns, so let’s do +as the Injuns would do. We can cache most +of our stuff and turn the horses loose. Bighorn’s +mutton is powerful good, but tarnally +shy and hung mighty high, an’ billygoat is +doggoned strong ’nless you know how to cook +’em. Yes, we’ll eat an sleep fust an’ then +his for the land where the Bighorn pasture, +the woolywhite goats sleep on the rocks, the +whistling marmot blows his danger signal an’ +the pretty white ptarmigan hides hisself in +the snow-banks, the home of the Ecutocks.

+ +

“What the thunder is a Ecutock, Pete?” +I asked.

+ +

[118]“An Injun devil, I reckon you’d call it; +it’s bad medicine,” he answered soberly, and +continuing in his former strain, he exclaimed:

+ +

“Whar critters like goats, sheeps and rock-chucks +kin live, you bet your Hy-as muck-a-muck +we kin live too!”

+ +

That night I rolled up into my blanket, +filled with strange presentiments. Again the +question came up: What is the source of the +influence that this madman of the mountains, +this wild hunter, this leader of the black wolf +pack, had on me to impel me to trail him over +the mountains? Was it mental telepathy? +Could he really be my father? Somehow I +felt convinced that soon I would be face to +face with the riddle, soon I would know the +facts and the truth about my parents. It +seemed unthinkable that all these weeks of +wilderness travel had been for naught and +that the Wild Hunter was nothing but a +strange, eccentric old fellow living alone in +the mountains and of no interest to me +whatsoever.

+ + + + +

[119]CHAPTER XI

+ + +

We made our start at daylight, loaded with +all the necessities for a climb over the mountains. +The rest of our supplies and equipment +we cached, and Big Pete turned our horses +loose assuring me that in the spring he would +come back and rope them.

+ +

The lower trail of the pass was quite well +defined and we made famous progress, but +the higher we climbed the more difficult the +going became and more than once we were +forced to pause on a ledge to rest and regain +our breath.

+ +

On one ledge I got my first really close view +of a bighorn sheep, and I became so excited +that nothing would do but I must stalk him, +despite Big Pete’s assurance that the wily +old ram would not let me get within gun shot +of him in such an exposed area.

+ +

I crawled, and wriggled, and twisted over[120] +rock and boulders for what to me seemed miles, +but always the sheep kept just out of accurate +shooting distance ahead of me. It was an +exasperating chase, but one cannot live in +the mountains for any length of time without +paying more or less attention to geology; the +mountaineer soon learns that stratified rock, +that is rock arranged like layer cake, resting +in a horizontal position on its natural bed, +makes travel over its top comparatively easy, +but when by the subsidence or upheaval of +the earth’s crust huge masses of stone have +been tilted up edgewise, it is an entirely +different proposition.

+ +

In this latter case the erosion, or the wearing +away, caused by trickling water, frost and +snow, sharpens the edge of the rock, as a +grindstone does the edge of an ax, and traveling +along one of these ridges presents almost the +same difficulties that travel along the edge of +an upturned ax would do to a microscopic man.

+ +

But when a sportsman, for the first time in +his life, has succeeded in creeping within[121] +range of a grand bighorn ram, and his bullet, +speeding true, has badly wounded the game, +hardships are forgotten, and if, on account +of the miraculous vitality of the mountain +sheep, there is danger of losing the quarry, +all the inborn instinct of the predaceous +beast in man’s nature is aroused, and danger +is a consideration not to be taken in account.

+ +

A hawk in pursuit of a barnyard fowl will +follow it into the open door of the farmhouse; +the hound in pursuit of the fox cares not for +the approaching locomotive—being possessed +by the instinct to kill—nothing is of importance +to them but the capture of the game in +sight. A man following a buck is governed +by a like singleness of purpose.

+ +

For this reason I was scrambling along the +knife-like edge of the ridge, with death in the +steep treacherous slide rock on one side, +death in the steep green glacier ice on the +other side, and torture and wounds under my +feet.

+ +

But the fever of the chase had possession[122] +of me. I had tasted blood and felt the fierce +joy of the puma and the wild intoxication of a +hunting wolf!

+ +

The cruel wounds inflicted by the sharp +stones under my feet were unnoticed. Away +ahead of me was a moving object; it could +use but three legs, but that was one leg more +than I had, and the ram had distanced me. +After an age of time I reached the rugged, +broader footing of the mountain side, and +creeping up behind some sheltering rocks again +fired at the fleeing ram. With the impact of +the bullet the sheep fell headlong down +a cliff to a projecting rock thirty feet below, +where it lay apparently dead. A moment +later it again arose, seemingly as able as ever, +and ran along the face of the beetling rock +where my eyes, aided by powerful field glasses, +could perceive no foothold; then it gave a +magnificent leap to a ledge on the opposite +side of the narrow canyon and fell dead, out +of my reach.

+ +

Spent with my long, rough run, I naturally[123] +selected the most comfortable seat in which to +rest; this chanced to be a cushion of heather-like +plants along the side of a fragment of +rock which effectually concealed my body from +view from the other side of the chasm. Here, +on the verge of that impassable canyon, I sat +panting and looking at the poor dead creature +upon the opposite side; its right front leg was +shattered at the shoulder, a bullet had pierced +its lungs. Yet, with two fatal wounds and a +useless leg, the plucky creature had scaled +the face of a cliff which one would think a +squirrel would find impossible to traverse +and made leaps which might well be considered +improbable for a perfectly sound animal. +The ram was dead and food for the ravens, +and a reaction had taken place in my mind; +I felt like a bloody murderer, and hung my +head with a sense of guilt.

+ +

Presently, becoming conscious of that peculiar +guttural noise, used by Big Pete when +desiring caution, and looking up I was amazed +to see a splendid Indian youth climb down the[124] +face of the opposite cliff, throw his arms around +the dead ram’s neck and burst into deep but +subdued lamentation. For the first time I now +saw that what I had mistaken for a blood +stain on the bighorn’s neck was a red collar.

+ +

Cautiously producing my field glasses I +examined the collar and discovered it to be +made of stained porcupine quills cleverly +worked on a buckskin band. The field glasses +also told me that the boy’s shirt was trimmed +with the same material, while a duplicate +of the sheep’s collar formed a band which +encircled his head, confining the long black +hair and preventing it from falling over his +face, but leaving it free to hang down his back +to a point below the waist line.

+ +

So absorbed was I in this unique spectacle +that I carelessly allowed my elbow to dislodge +a loose fragment of stone which went clattering +down the face of the precipice. This proved +to be almost fatal carelessness, for, with a +movement as quick as the stroke of a rattlesnake, +the lad placed an arrow to the string[125] +of a bow and sent the barbed shaft with such +force, promptitude and precision that it went +through my fur cap, the arrow entangling a +bunch of my hair, taking it along with it.

+ +

“Squat lower, Le-loo; arrows has been the +death of many a man afore you,” whispered +Big Pete in my ear, but even as he spoke +another arrow sang over our crouching bodies, +shaving the protecting rock so closely that +their plumed tips brushed the dust on our +backs.

+ +

“Waugh! Good shootin’, by gum! I never +seed it beat; if he onct sots them black eyes +on our hulking carcasses he’ll get us yit,” +muttered my guide, enthusiastically. “He’s +mighty slender, quick and purty—but so also +be a rattlesnake!” he exclaimed, as another +arrow slit the sleeve of his wamus as cleanly +as if it were cut with a knife.

+ +

“For God’s sake, stop!” I shouted, in real +alarm. The boy paused, but with an arrow +still drawn to its head. His eyes flashing, +head erect, one moccasined foot on the ram’s[126] +body, the other braced against the cliff; his +short fawn-colored skin shirt clung to his +lithe body, and the fringed edges hung over +the dreadful black chasm in front of him. +It was a picture to take away one’s breath. +“Put down your weapon, and we will stand +with our hands up,” I cried. Slowly the bow +was lowered and as slowly Big Pete and I +arose, holding our empty hands aloft. “Now, +young fellow, tell us your pleasure.”

+ +

There are a few gray hairs showing at my +temples which first made their appearance +while I was crouching behind that stone on +the edge of the chasm.

+ +

To my polite inquiry asking his pleasure, +the wild boy made no reply but glanced at us +with the utmost contempt when Big Pete +went through some gestures in Indian sign +language. The lad mutely pointed to the +dead sheep, the sight of which seemed to +enrage him again, for insensibly his fingers +tightened on the bow and the wood began to +curve after a manner which sent me ducking[127] +behind the sheltering stone again; but Big +Pete only folded his arms across his broad +chest and looked the boy straight in the eyes.

+ +

Never will I forget that picture, the cold, +bleak, snow-covered mountains towering above +them, the black abyss of Sheol between them; +neither would hesitate to take life, neither +possessed a fear of death; but with every +muscle alert and every nerve alive these two +wild things stood facing each other, mutually +observing a truce because of—what? Because, +in spite of the fighting instinct or, maybe, +because of it they both secretly admired each +other.

+ + + + +

[128]CHAPTER XII

+ + +

The black chasm which separated us from +the trail of the wild hunter was not as formidable +a barrier as the unfathomable abyss +which separates the reader from what he thinks +he would have done had he been in my place, +and what really would have been his plan of +action.

+ +

There were a lot of burning questions which +I had privately made up in my mind to propound +to the Wild Hunter, or the even wilder +medicine bear, upon the occasion of our next +meeting. But when the lad was standing +before me, with bended bow and flashing +eyes, the burning importance of those questions +did not appeal to me as forcibly as did +the urgent necessity of sheltering my body +behind the friendly stone. To be truthful, it +must be admitted that the proposed inquiries +were, for the time, entirely forgotten, and[129] +I even breathed a sigh of relief when the boy +suddenly clambered up the face of the cliff, +turned, gave us a fierce look of defiance, made +some quick energetic gestures with his hand +and disappeared.

+ +

He scaled that precipitous rock with the +rapidity and self-confidence of a gray squirrel +running up the trunk of a hickory tree, squirrel-like, +taking advantage of every crack, cranny +and projection that could be grasped by +fingers or moccasin-covered toes.

+ +

Not until the Indian had disappeared down +a dry coulee did I venture from the shelter +of the protecting rock, or realize that my +carefully planned interview must be indefinitely +postponed.

+ +

With his arms folded across his chest, his +blond hair sweeping his shoulders, his blue +eyes fixed upon a rocky rib of the mountain +behind which the boy had disappeared, Big +Pete still stood like a statue. But gradually +the statuesque pose resolved itself into a +more commonplace posture, and the muscles[130] +of the face relaxed until the familiar twinkle +hovered around the corners of his eyes. +“What did he say when he made those +motions, Pete?”

+ +

“Waugh! he said he was not afraid of any +whitefaced coyote like us.” And bringing +forth his pipe, Pete filled it from the beaded +tobacco pouch which hung on his breast, and +by means of a horn of punk, a flint and steel, +he soon had the pipe aglow and was puffing +away as calmly as if nothing unusual had +occurred. Presently he exclaimed, “Gol durn +his daguerrotype, what good did it do him to +throw that sheep down the gulch? Reckon +Le-loo and me could find a better grave for +mutton chops than that canyon bottom. The +mountains didn’t need the sheep an’ we did. +But, I reckon it was his own sheep you killed, +’cause it had a porcupine collar same pattern +as the trimmings of his shirt.”

+ +

Turning his great blue eyes full upon me, +he suddenly shot this inquiry, “Be he bar, +ecutock or werwolf?”

+ +

[131]“He is the finest adjusted, easiest running, +most exquisitely balanced, highest geared bit +of human machinery I ever saw,” I answered +enthusiastically.

+ +

“Wall, maybe ye are right, Le-loo, an’ +maybe ye hain’t; which is catamount to +saying, maybe it is a man and maybe it +tain’t.”

+ +

“Steady, Pete, old fellow, let us go slow; +now tell me at what you’re driving?” I +pleaded.

+ +

“It looks to me this hea’-a-way,” he +explained. “I’ve seed his trail onct or twice, +an’ I’ve seed him onct, but I never yet seed +his trail and the Wild Hunter’s trail at the +same time and place. ’Pears to me that +a man who, when it’s convenient, kin make +a wolf of hisself, might likewise make a boy +of hisself whenever he felt that way. Never +heared tell on enny real laid who cud climb +like a squtton and shoot a bow better nor +a Robin Hood or Injun, and that’s howsomever!”

+ +

[132]“Well, it does look ‘howsomever,’ and no +mistake,” I admitted, “and what makes it +worse, our dinner is at the bottom of this +infernal gulch. Come, let us be moving; the +breeze from the snowfields chills me. Let us +hit his trail now while it is fresh.”

+ +

This was a simple proposition to make, but +a difficult one to carry into execution; for to +all appearances that trail began upon the +other side of the chasm, and there was no +bridge in sight by which we could cross. +Big Pete carefully put a cork-stopper in his +pipe, extinguishing the fire without wasting +the unconsumed contents; he then carefully +put his briarwood away and began to uncoil +a lariat from around his middle. As he +loosened the braided rawhide from his waist his +gaze was roaming over the opposite rocks. +Presently he fixed his attention upon a pinnacle +which reared its cube-like form above +the top of the opposite side of the chasm; the +latter was of itself much higher than the brink +upon which we stood. Swinging the loop[133] +around his head he sent it whistling across the +chasm, where it settled and encircled the +projecting stone, the honda striking the face +of the cliff with a sullen thud. The rope +tightened, but when we both threw our +weight on our end of the lariat to try it, the +cube-like pinnacle moved on its base.

+ +

“I oughter knowed better than to try to +lasso a piece of slide rock,” said Pete in +disgusted tones, as he cast the end of the +braided rawhide loose and watched it for a +moment dangling down the opposite side of +the canyon.

+ +

“Now, Le-loo, we must get over this hole or +lose the best lariat in the Rocky Mountains. +We kin look for that boy’s trail on this side, +for even if he be an Ecutock, I’ll bet my crooker +bone ’gainst a lock of his hair that he can’t +jump th’ hole, an’ I’ll wager my left ear that +he’s got a trail an’ a bridge somewhar—’nless +he turns bird and flops over things like +this,” he added, with a troubled look.

+ +

“Pete,” said I, “never mind the bird[134] +business. I’ll admit that there is a lot of +explanation due us before we can rightly +judge on the events of the past few weeks; +still I think it may all be explained in a +rational manner; but what if it cannot? +We have but one trip to make through this +world, and the more we see the more we will +know at the end of the journey. I am as +curious as a prong-horned antelope when +there is a mystery, so put your nose to the +ground, my good friend, and find the spot +where this Mr. Werwolf, witch, or bear +flies the canyon, and maybe, like the husband +of ‘The Witch of Fife,’ we may find the +‘black crook shell,’ and with its aid fly out +of this ’lum.”

+ +

“I believe your judication is sound, Le-loo; +stay where you be an’ if he hain’t a witch +I’ll bet my front tooth agin the string of his +moccasin that I’ll find the bridge, and I’ll +swear by my grandmother’s hind leg that that +little imp will pay for our sheep yit.”

+ +

As Pete finished these remarks there was a +sudden and astonishing change in his appearance.[135] +His head fell forward, his shoulders +drooped, his back bowed and his knee bent. +It was no longer the upright statuesque +Pete the Mountaineer, but Peter the Trailer, +all of whose faculties were concentrated upon +the ground. With a swinging gait the human +bloodhound traveled swiftly and silently along +the edge of the crevasse, noting every bunch +of moss, fragment of stone, drift of snow or bit +of moist earth, reading the shorthand notes of +Nature with facility which far excelled the +ability of my own stenographer to read her +own notes when the latter are a few hours +old. But a short time had elapsed before I +heard a shout, and, hurrying to the place where +my big friend was seated, I inquired, “Any +luck?”

+ +

“Tha’s as you may call it. Here is wha’ +tha’ boy jumped,” he replied, pointing to +some marks on the stone which were imperceptible +to me, “an’ tha’s wha’ he landed,” +he continued, pointing to a slight ledge upon +the face of the opposite cliff at least twenty +feet distant. “He’s a jumper, an’ no mistake—guess[136] +I might as well have my front tooth +pulled, fur I’ve lost my bet,” soliloquized +the trailer, as he sat on the edge of the cliff, +with his legs hanging over the frightful chasm.

+ +

The ledge indicated by Big Pete as the +landing place of the phenomenal jumper might +possibly have offered a foothold for a bighorn +or goat, but I could not believe that any +human being could jump twenty feet to a +crumbling trifle of a ledge on the face of a +precipice, and not only retain a foothold +there, but run up the face of the rock like a +fly on a window-pane. Yet I could see that +something had worn the ledge at the point +indicated and when I stood a little distance +away from the trail I could plainly note a +difference in color marking the course of the +trail where it led over the flinty rocks to the +jumping place.

+ +

“Wull, Le-loo! What’s your opinion of +the Ecutock now? Do he use wings or ride +a barleycorn broom?” asked Pete, with a +triumphant smile.

+ + + + +

[137]CHAPTER XIII

+ + +

Apparently there was no possible way by +which we might hope to cross the canyon, +and I threw myself prone upon the top of the +stony brink of the chasm and peered down the +awful abyss at the silver thread, shining in +the gloom of the shadows, which marked the +course of a stream, and wondered what the +Boy Scouts of Troop 6 of Marlborough +would do under the circumstances.

+ +

I studied the face of the opposite cliff in a +vain search for some hint to the solution of +the problem before us, looking up and down +from side to side as far as allowed by the +range of my vision. At length my attention +wandered to the perpendicular face of the +cliff, on the top of which my body was +sprawled; there was an upright crack in the +face of the stone wall, and as I examined the +fracture I saw that a piece of wood had lodged[138] +in the crack; a piece of wood in a crevice in a +rock is not so unusual an occurrence as to +excite remark; but when it occurred to me +that we were then far above the timber line, +my interest and curiosity were at once +aroused.

+ +

The end of the stick was within a short +distance from my hand, and reaching down +I grasped the wood and brought forth, not a +short club or stick, as I thought to be concealed +there, but a very long pole. The result +of my investigations was so unexpected that +I came dangerously near allowing the thing +to slide through my fingers and fall to the +bottom of the canyon. It was a neatly-smoothed, +slender piece of lodge-pole pine +which was brought to view, and it had a +crooked root nicely spliced to one end and +bound tightly in place with rawhide thongs. +Big Pete was wholly absorbed in the trail, +the study of which he had resumed, and +when I looked up he was down on all fours, +minutely studying the ground. Presently[139] +he cried, “Le-loo, tha’ pesky lad ha’ been +over wha’ you be after sompen and he took +it back tha’ again afore he made his jump! +If you’re any good you’ll find what the lad +was after.”

+ +

“He was after his barleycorn broomstick,” +I replied, proudly, “and here it is, although +I must confess it is a pretty long one for a +fellow of his size, and it looks more like a +giant Bo-Peep’s crook than a witch’s broom.”

+ +

Big Pete eagerly snatched the pole from +my hands and examined it carefully. At +length he said, “This hyer is the end used for +the handle; one can see by the finger marks, +an’ this crook is used to scrape stone with, +one kin see, with half an eye, by the way the +end is sandpapered off. Over tha’ air some +marks on the stone which look almighty like +as if they’d been made by the end of this yer +hook slipping down the face of the rock.

+ +

“Now, I wonder wha’ cud be up tha’ on +the top of the rock that the boy wanted,” +mused Big Pete, and for a moment or so he[140] +stood in silent thought; at length he exclaimed, +“Why, bless my corn-shucking soul, if I +don’t believe he’s got a lariat staked out tha’ +an’ crosses this ditch same as we-uns aimed +to do!” With that he began raking and +scraping the top of the opposite rock with the +shepherd’s crook, and presently there came +tumbling and twisting like a snake down the +face of the cliff, a long braided rawhide rope +with a loop at the bottom end.

+ +

“Waugh, Le-loo! tha’s no witchcraft ’bout +this ’cep the magic of common-sense; but +we hain’t through with him yit!” By this +time Pete had the end of the rawhide rope +in his hands and was testing the strength of its +anchorage upon the opposite cliff. The point +where it was fastened projected some distance +over the ledge, where the supposed landing-place +was located, thus making it possible for +one to swing at the end of the rope from our +side without danger of coming into too violent +contact with the opposite cliff.

+ +

As soon as my big friend was satisfied that[141] +the rope was safe he grasped it with his two +hands, and with one foot in the loop and the +other free to use as a fender, he sailed across +the abyss and landed safely upon the crumbling +ledge opposite.

+ +

Holding fast to the rawhide rope with his +hands and bracing his feet against the rock, +Pete could walk up the face of the cliff by +going hand-over-hand up the cable at the +same time. He had almost reached the top +when I was horror-stricken to see a small +hand and brown arm reach over the precipice; +but it was neither the grace nor the beauty +of this shapely bit of anatomy which sent the +blood surging to my heart, but the fact that +the cold gray glint of a long-bladed knife +caught my eyes and fascinated me with the +fabled “charm” of a serpent. The power +of speech forsook me, but with great effort I +succeeded in giving utterance to the inarticulate +noise people gurgle when confronted in +their sleep by a shapeless horror. Big Pete +heard the noise, but he was not unnerved[142] +when he saw the knife, neither did he show +any nightmare symptoms, although he was +dangling over the terrible abyss with a full +knowledge that it needed but a touch of the +keen blade of that knife to sever the straining +lariat and dash him, a mangled mass, on the +rocks below. The danger was too real to give +Pete the nightmare; there was nothing spooky +to him in the glittering knife blade, and only +ghosts and the supernatural could give Big +Pete the nightmare. Calmly he looked at +the hand grasping the power of death with its +strong tapering fingers. Suddenly and in a +firm, commanding voice he gave the order, +“Drap tha’ knife!”

+ +

Ever since I had been in the company of +this masterful forest companion I had obeyed +his commands as a matter of course, and so +was not surprised to see the fingers instantly +relax their grasp and the knife go gyrating to +the mysterious depths. In a few moments +Big Pete was up and over the edge of the +rock and hidden from my view.

+ +

[143]Seizing the long-handled shepherd’s crook, +I caught the dangling end of the lariat, and +was soon scrambling up the face of the cliff, +leaving a trail which the veriest novice would +not fail to notice and sending showers of the +crumbling stones down the path taken by the +knife; it was several minutes before I had +clambered over the face of the projecting crag +and was safe across the black chasm which +lay athwart our trail.

+ +

If the Wild Hunter was indeed my father, +he certainly was a woodcrafter and scout to +bring pride to a fellow’s heart, for I doubted +not that the Indian boy was his retainer +because the porcupine quill decorations on +his buckskin shirt had the same peculiar +pattern as that on the wamus of the Wild +Hunter himself as well as on the collar of the +pet sheep I had killed, and also on the buckskin +bag of gold.

+ + + + +

[144]CHAPTER XIV

+ + +

Only those persons who have made solitary +trips over snow-capped mountain ridges can +appreciate the overwhelming feeling of solitude +that I felt on looking about me. To whatever +point of view I turned my eyes were greeted +with a tumbled sea composed of stupendous +petrified billows.

+ +

The occasional fields of snow were the white +froth of the stony waves and the turquoise +colored glacial lakes between the crags rather +added to the effect of an angry ocean than +detracted from it.

+ +

On a closer examination, some of the rocks +appeared to be rough bits of unfinished worlds +still retaining the form they had when poured +from the mighty blast furnaces of the Creator. +It was God’s workshop strewn with huge +fragments, still bearing the marks of His +mallet and chisel; yet these cold barren +wastes were the pasture lands of the shaggy-coated[145] +white goats and the lithe-limbed bighorned +sheep.

+ +

Suddenly a shrill whistle pierced the air +and with a jump I instinctively looked for a +vision of the Wild Hunter, but a moment +later realized that the sound I heard was but +the warning cry of a whistling marmot. +Again the silence was broken, this time by a +low rumbling sound which increased in volume +until it roared like a broadside from an old +forty-four-gun man-of-war, each crag and +peak taking up the sound and hurling it +against its neighbor, until the reverberating +noise seemed to come from all points of the +compass.

+ +

Away in the distance I could see a white +stream pouring from the precipitous edge of +an elevated glacier; this seeming mountain +torrent I knew was not water, but ice, thousands +of tons of which having cracked and +broken from the edge of the glacier, were now +being dashed over the hard face of the rock +into minute fragments.

+ +

[146]The white stream could be seen to decrease +perceptibly in size, from a broad sheet to a +wide band, a narrow ribbon, a line, a hair and +then disappear altogether. While the distant +mountains were still growling, mumbling and +playing shuttlecock with the echoes a timid +chief hare went hopping across a green half-acre +of grass at the damp edge of a melting +snow patch in my path. Overhead a golden +eagle sailed with a small mammal in its talons; +strange reddish-colored bumblebees busied +themselves in a bunch of flowers growing in +a crevice in the rocks at my feet.

+ +

But my eye could discern no larger creatures +in this Alpine pasture land; not only could I +see no sheep or goats, but not a sign of my +friend. He had vanished from the face of +the picture as completely as if the master +artist had erased him with one mighty sweep +of his paint brush.

+ +

When I viewed the lonely landscape with +no human being in sight, I confess to experiencing +a creepy sensation and a strong[147] +inclination to flee, but I knew not in what +direction to run. I was in a rough basin-shaped +depression among the mountain peaks, +and I sat on a large rock with my back to a +black chasm. From my elevated position I +could see a long distance. Strange fancies +creep into one’s head on such occasions and +play havoc with previous well-founded beliefs. +To me, poor fool of a tenderfoot, Big Pete +had melted into the thinnest of thin air, such +as is only found in high altitudes, and somehow +I wondered whether the Wild Hunter +had had anything to do with it.

+ +

How could I tell that I myself was not +invisible?

+ +

I hauled myself up short there for I realized +that such folly was not good to have tumbling +around in my brain. I figuratively pulled +myself back to earth, and to steady my +nerves reached into my pack and brought +out several hard bits of bannock that I had +stored there. I was dreadfully hungry and +I munched these with enthusiasm, meanwhile[148] +keeping a sharp eye out for Big Pete, and +between times making the acquaintance of +the little chief hare who, as he scuttled about +among the rocks, looked me over curiously.

+ +

A short distance to my left was a huge +obsidian cliff, the glassy walls of which rose +in a precipice to a considerable height. On +account of its peculiar formation, this crag of +natural glass had several times attracted my +attention, and on any other occasion I would +have been curious enough to give it closer +inspection. Once, as I turned my head in +that direction, I thought I heard a wild laugh +and later concluded that it was only imagination +on my part, but now, as I again faced the +cliff, I unmistakably heard a shout and was +considerably relieved to see silhouetted against +the sky the figure of Big Pete.

+ +

“Hello, Le-loo,” he shouted. “Through +chasin’ that ’ere spook Indian kid be you? +It’s about time. Gosh-all-hemlocks! I been +breakin’ my neck tryin’ to keep up with you, +doggone yore hide,” shouted the big guide as +he started to climb down toward me.

+ +

[149]“Hello, Pete! You bet I’m through and +I’m blamed near all in. Where are we, do +you know?” I called to him.

+ +

“Top o’ the world, my boy. Top o’ the +world, that’s whar we be,” he said with a grin.

+ +

I had seen no game since I had lost the +bighorn, and the sunball was now hung low in +the heavens. It appeared to me that there +was every prospect for a supperless night, too. +But Big Pete evidently had no such idea, and +he “’lowed” that he would “mosey” ’round +a bit and kill some varmints for grub.

+ +

There seemed to be plenty of mountain +lion signs, and I was surprised that they +should frequent such high altitudes, but +Pete told me that they were up here after +marmots, and were all sleek and fat on that +diet. I would not have been surprised if my +wild comrade had proposed a feast on these +cats. But it was not long before Pete’s +revolvers could be heard barking and in a +short time he returned with two braces of +white ptarmigan, each with its head shattered +by a pistol ball, and I confess these birds[150] +were more to my liking than cat meat. Up +there ’mid the snow fields the ptarmigan +apparently kept their winter plumage all year +round, and their natural camouflage made +them utterly invisible to me, but to Pete, a +white ptarmigan on a white snowfield seemed +to be as easy to detect as if the same bird had +been perched on a heap of coal. I had not +seen one of these grouse since we had been +in the mountains and was not aware of their +presence until my companion returned with +the four dead birds.

+ +

Without wasting time, Pete began to prepare +them for cooking. He soon built a fire +of some sticks which he gleaned from one or +two twisted and gnarled evergreens that had +wandered above timber line and cooked the +birds over the embers. He gave a brace to +me, and sitting on a boulder with our feet +hanging over the edge we ate our evening +meal without salt or pepper, and then each of +us curled up like a grey wolf under the shelter +of a stone and slept as safely as if we were in[151] +our bed rolls down in the genial atmosphere +of the park in place of being in the bitingly +cold air of the bleak mountain tops.

+ +

I, at least, slept soundly, and, thanks to +the clothes Pete had so kindly made for me, +I do not remember feeling cold. When I +awoke again it was daylight and I could +scarcely believe that I had been asleep more +than five minutes since my friend bade me +good-night. Big Pete was up before me, of +course, and when I opened my eyes I found +him cooking breakfast and making tea in a +tin cup over those economical fires he so +loved to build even when we were in the park +where there was fuel enough for a roaring +bonfire. It’s queer how difficult it is to make +water boil on a mountain top.

+ +

“Well, now fer the witch-b’ar track agin,” +said Big Pete, wiping his mouth.

+ +

“Witch-bear!” I exclaimed. “Oh—yes—you +don’t mean to tell me you kept following +the track of that two-legged bear this far, +Pete?” I exclaimed, suddenly recalling that we[152] +had started out following a mysterious moccasin +trail that had later turned into bear tracks.

+ +

“Sartin’ sure. Didn’t you figger out that +that tha’ b’ar war the Injun or tha’ Wild +Hunter who put on moccasins made o’ b’ar +feet when he thought we’d foller him?” +asked Pete.

+ +

“Yes, I did, but I forgot—maybe that ram +was the Wild Hunter himself—blame it. +Nothing will astonish me in this country.”

+ +

“Yes, you fergot everything, even yore +head when you started to foller that tha’ +ram yesterday. But I didn’t. I jest kept +peggin’ away at them tha’ rumswattel b’ar +tracks and I followed ’em right up to yonder +cliff. They go on from tha’, but I left ’em +last night to come over by you. Come on, +we’ll pick ’em up agin.” And off he started.

+ +

It was soon evident that it was an exceedingly +active bear which we were following for +it could climb over green glacier ice like a +Swiss guide and over rocks like a goat. It led +us a wild, wild chase over crevasses, friable[153] +and treacherous stones covered with “verglass,” +over dangerous couloirs and all the other +things talked of in the Alps but forgotten in +the Rockies, to high elevations, where frozen +snow combed over the beetling crags, and +the avalanches roared and thundered down +the rocks, dashing the fragments of stone over +the lower ice fields. We were not roped +together like mountain climbers in the Swiss +or Tyrolean Alps; we got the real thrills by +using our own hands and feet without ice pick, +staff or hobnailed shoes.

+ +

But Big Pete never hesitated and I followed +him without a word, and when the trail led +along the edge of a dizzy height I could look +at the middle of Big Pete’s broad back and +then my head would not swim. It required +quick and good judgment to tell just how +much of a slant made a loose stone unsafe to +step upon. It was exciting and exhilarating +work, and the violent exercise kept me so +warm that I carried most of my clothes in a +bundle on my back. Presently our path led[154] +us into a goat trail, one of those century old +paths made by shaggy white Alpine animals, +and used by them as regular highways. +There were plenty of fresh goat signs, and the +broad path led us over a saddle mountain +to the verge of a cliff, beyond which it seemed +impossible for anything but birds to pursue +the trail. Here we sat down to rest and to +make a cup of tea over a tiny fire, although +wood was plentiful at this place, it being in the +timber line.

+ +

Below us lay a valley, into which numerous +small glaciers emptied their everlasting supply +of ice and blocks of stone, and horse-tail falls +poured from the melting snow fields. It might +have presented enchanting prospects to an +iceman or a bighorn, or a Rocky Mountain +goat, but for two tired men it was a gloomy, +dangerous and desolate place and I felt +certain that even a witch-bear would not +choose such a dangerous place as a camping +ground. We had finished our tea and I was +feeling somewhat refreshed when I noticed a[155] +peculiar stinging sensation about my face; I +felt as if I had been attacked by some peculiar +form of insect. But there were none in sight.

+ +

Pete, at this time, was some distance away +prospecting the “lay of the land.” I saw +him suddenly pull the cape of his wamus over +his face, and reasoned that he also had been +attacked by these invisible insects.

+ +

To my surprise, the big fellow seemed very +much alarmed, and every time I shouted to +him it greatly excited him. As he was +hurrying to me as rapidly as possible, I +desisted from further inquiry. When Big +Pete reached my side he pulled a handkerchief +from around my neck and put it over my +mouth, making signs which I did not comprehend. +At last he put his muffled mouth +to my ear and shouted through the cape of +his wamus. “Shut yer meat-trap or you’re +food for the coyotes. It is the WHITE +DEATH!”

+ + + + +

[156]CHAPTER XV

+ + +

Clothes and stage trappings can neither +add nor detract from our respect for death. +He is the same grim old gentleman, be his +mouldy bones naked, or clothed in robes of +the most gaudy or brilliant hues. A blue +death, a red death or a yellow death is just as +grizzly and awe-inspiring as one of any shade +of gray. Even a black death excites no +emotions not touched by the first name, for +it is the dread messenger himself whom we +respect and not his fanciful robes of office.

+ +

As far as I am personally concerned, I +confess that Big Pete’s painful suggestion +about the coyotes had more to do with keeping +my mouth shut than any terror inspired by +the lily-like purity of the garments of the +white death; what made my bones ache was +the thought of the wolves gnawing them.

+ +

Overhead the sun shone with an unusual[157] +brilliancy, and the atmosphere had that peculiar +crystalline transparency which kills space +and brings distant objects close to one’s feet. +Where then was the terrible white messenger? +Why must my head be muffled like a mummy? +Why must I keep my mouth shut, while the +curiosity mill within me was working overtime +grinding out questions I should dearly love +to ask?

+ +

Again and again I looked around me to see +where this ghostly white terror might lurk, +and now, as I gazed at the mountains, I was +surprised and annoyed to discover that the +distant peaks were gradually disappearing, +being blotted out of the landscape before my +eyes; a ghost-like mantle was creeping over +and enshrouding the mountains.

+ +

Like Big Pete, the witch-bear, the ptarmigan +and the stinging insects, the mountains themselves +had joined in the weird game and were +donning their fernseed caps of invisibility. +Now the air around and about me seemed to +be filled with powdered dust of mica that[158] +glinted, sparkled and scintillated in the sunshine. +The breeze which was tossing about +the bright atoms loosened the handkerchief +which swathed my nose and mouth, and I +was seized with a violent fit of coughing.

+ +

It was no gentle hand which Big Pete laid +on my shoulder before he again bound the +handkerchief around my face and motioned +for me to follow him.

+ +

Evidently my guide had been making good +use of his time while I was engaged in idle +speculation, for he led me to a point about +fifty yards from the goat trail where there was +a possible place to descend the cliff to a ledge +fifty feet below. By this time I had become +enough of a mountaineer to follow my guide +over trails which a few weeks previous would +have seemed to me impossible to traverse, +and after a hasty and daring descent we +reached the ledge, where I discovered the +black mouth of a cavern; into this hole Pete +thrust me and led me back some twenty yards +into the darkness, ordered me to disrobe to[159] +the waist, then he began a most vigorous +and irritating slapping and rubbing of my +chest; so insistent and persevering was he +that I really thought my skin would be peeled +from shoulders to waist. At last he desisted +and ordered me to put on all my clothes.

+ +

“Are you mad, Pete? Has the rarefied air +of the mountains upset your brain? If not, +will you kindly tell me what on earth all this +means and why we are hiding in this gloomy +hole?” I asked as soon as I got the breath +back in my body.

+ +

“Le-loo, you be a baby, and need a keeper +to prevent you from committing susancide +several times a day. Tenderfoot? Well, I +should say so. No one but a short-horn from +the East would keep his mouth open gulping +in the frozen fog, filling his warm lungs with +quarts of fine ice. I reckon it would be +healthier to breathe pounded glass, fur it +hain’t sharper nor half as cold. Why, Le-loo, +tha’ be a dose of fever and lung inflammation +in every mouthful of this frozen fog.”

+ +

[160]He held my face between his two strong +hands so that the faint light that filtered +through the murky darkness from the cavern’s +mouth dimly illuminated my countenance, +and as he watched the streams of perspiration +falling in drops from the end of my nose his +frown relaxed and a broad grin spread over +his handsome features.

+ +

“You’re all right this time,” he added +“I calculate that I’ve melted all the ice in +your bellows, so just creep up tha’ and sweat +a bit more to make it slick and sartin that +we’ve beat the White Death this trip.” +I did as he said, not because I wanted to +sweat but because habit made me obey the +commands of my guide.

+ +

Evidently this cavern had been in constant +use by some sort of animals as a sort of stable +for many, many years, and I have had sweeter +couches, but by this time my rough life had +transformed me into something of a wild +animal myself, and it was not long before I +was comfortably dozing. During the time[161] +that I slept I was dimly conscious of being +surrounded by a crowd of people; as the +absurdity of this forced itself through my +sleep-befuddled brain and I opened wide my +eyes, what I saw made me open my eyes +still wider.

+ +

I was about to start to my feet when I felt +Big Pete’s restraining hand on my shoulder, +and not until then did I realize that the cave +was crowded with the shaggy white Rocky +Mountain goats, and not weird, white-bearded +old men. Few persons can truly say that +they have been within arm’s length of a flock +of these timid and almost unapproachable +animals; but we had invaded their secret +place of refuge, and they had not, as yet, +taken alarm at our presence in their castle. +It may be that the frozen fog had driven +the goats to the cavern for shelter, and it is +possible that never having been hunted by +man, these animals feared the White Death +more than they did human beings, and did +not realize the dangerous character of their[162] +present visitors; whatever the cause of their +temerity, the fact remains that men and +goats slept that night in the cavern together.

+ +

I did not awake next morning until after +the departure of the goats and opened my +eyes to find myself alone in the cavern.

+ +

Having all my clothes on, no time was +wasted at my toilet, but I made my way +directly to the doorway and was gratified to +discover that Big Pete was roasting some kid +chops over the hot embers of a fire.

+ +

After breakfasting on the remains of the +kid, Big Pete arose and scanned the sky, the +horizon and the mountain tops, and turning +to me said, “Now, Le-loo, that Wild Hunter-b’ar-wolf +man has fooled us by doubling on +his trail an’ as it hain’t him we’re after now +but the trail out of the mountains, I mean to +go by sens-see-ation, but you must keep yer +meat-trap shut and not speak, ’cause soon +as I know I’m a man I hain’t got no more +sense than a man. I must say to myself, +‘Now, Pete, you’re a varmint and varmints[163] +know their way even in a new country.’ +Then I just sense things and trots along ’til +I come out all right.”

+ +

I had often heard of this wonderful instinct +of direction, the homing instinct of the +pigeon, which some Indians, Africans, Australian +black boys and a few white men still +possess; I say still possess because it is evident +that it was once our common heritage, a sort of +sixth sense which has been lost by disuse. +That Big Pete possessed this sixth sense I +little doubted, and it was with absorbing interest +that I watched the man work himself into +the proper state of mind.

+ +

For quite a time he stood sniffing the air +and looking around him while his body swayed +with a slow motion. Then suddenly, as if +he had seen something or as if answering the +call of something, he started off almost at +right angles to our trail, acting very much like +a hound on an old scent, but keeping up a +pace that tried my endurance.

+ +

It was truly wonderful the way this man, in[164] +a trance-like state, was guided by an invisible +power over the most dangerous ground, but +no one, after a careful survey, could have +selected a better trail than that chosen by +Big Pete. On and on we went, scrambling +over rock-skirting precipices and crumbling +ledges. A dense fog settled around us, making +each step hazardous, but with an instinct as +true and apparently identical with that of +our four-footed brothers, my guide kept the +same rapid pace for hours, and then, all of a +sudden, came to an abrupt stop.

+ +

For several seconds he stood in his tracks, +his body keeping the same swaying motion, +but after a short while he crept cautiously +forward in the fog, with me at his heels, and +we found ourselves at the edge of a giant +fault, similar to the one in Darlinkel Park, +but there was apparently no pass to let us +down the towering precipices to the valley +below.

+ +

“Well, that was a wonderful trip,” I cried.

+ +

“Shut up!” shouted Pete savagely, but[165] +I had spoken and the spell was broken; +reason, not instinct, must now lead us.

+ +

Vapor and clouds concealed the low grounds +from our view; however, we were determined +not to spend another night in the mountains, +so while I rested and regained my breath, +Big Pete went on to explore the ledges.

+ +

Presently my guide hove in sight and +motioned me to follow him; he led me to a +place where another goat trail went over the +edge of the precipice, this time not in ten and +fifteen feet jumps, but by a steep diagonal +path. Down the treacherous trail we slipped +and slid with a wall of rocks on one side and +death in the form of a bluish white space on +the other side.

+ +

As we were clambering carefully around +the face of a big rock Pete suddenly whispered +that he smelt a “Painter,” and upon peering +around the corner we found ourselves face to +face with a large cat; the animal was crouching +upon a flat-topped projecting stone immediately +in our path. That it was not the[166] +puma of the low-lands, its reddish-colored +coat and great size proclaimed. It was a +so-called mountain lion and a grand specimen +of its kind.

+ +

The cat’s small head lay between its muscular +forepaws, its hair adhered closely to its +body, its long tail was full and round and +waved slowly from side to side, while its eyes +gleamed like electric sparks.

+ +

We were in a most awkward position; our +guns were swung by straps over our backs, +so that we might use our hands, and we were +clinging to the face of the big rock while our +toes were seeking foothold in the treacherous +shale of the trail. To loosen our hands was to +fall backwards into the bluish white sea of +unknown depths, and to retrace our steps +was out of the question.

+ +

Pete often expressed the opinion that no +predaceous creature, from a spider up to a +cougar, will attack its prey while the latter is +immovable.

+ +

As a corollary to this proposition he said[167] +that when a person is suddenly confronted +by a dangerous wild beast, the safest plan to +pursue is to remain perfectly quiet, or, as he +quaintly put it, “to peetrify yourself in the +wink of an eye.”

+ +

Truth to tell, on this occasion I found no +difficulty in following his directions. I was +“peetrified” by fear; my feet were cold and +numb, chills in wavelets washed up and down +my spine, a sudden rash seemed to be breaking +out all over my body and the skin on my back +felt as if it had been converted into goose-flesh.

+ +

Had we been able to travel a few feet +further we would have both found a comparatively +safe footing and had our arms +free and a fighting chance with the big +catamount in place of hanging suspended to +the face of the rock like two big, helpless, +terrified bats.

+ + + + +

[168]CHAPTER XVI

+ + +

With an imperceptible movement, as steady +and almost as slow as that of a glacier, my +guide twisted his neck until his face was +turned from the puma and the side of the +mouth pressed against the flat surface of his +rock. I was crowded up against Big Pete, +who occupied a position but slightly in advance +and a little above me. My agony of fear +having somewhat subsided I ventured to steal +a momentary glance at my comrade’s face. +To my unutterable surprise I discovered a +whimsical twinkling at the corners of his eyes +and a mirthful expression of mischief in his +countenance. This was incomprehensible to +me, for I could imagine no more awe-inspiring +position than the one we then occupied.

+ +

While my thoughts were still busy trying +to fathom the cause of Pete’s untimely +mirth, the long-drawn howl of the big timber +wolf floated over the valley and sent a new lot[169] +of shivers down my back. It was the rallying +call used by the wolves to call the band together +when game is in sight. The sound +increased in volume until it reverberated +among the crags like the voice of a winter’s +storm, and then it gradually died away. +Big Pete was not only a good mimic but he +proved himself to be a ventriloquist of no +mean ability; by the help of the rock against +which his cheek was pressed he had been able +to throw his voice off into space in such a +manner that it baffled me for several moments.

+ +

The gray wolves are old and inveterate +enemies of the panther or cougar, hunting +the cats on all occasions. Consequently all +panthers know the meaning of that wild +lonesome howl, the assembling call, as well +as the oldest wolf in the pack, and its effect +upon the lion in our path was instantaneous. +The hair, which had a moment before been as +slick as if it were oiled, now rose upright until +the fuzzy hide gave the animal’s body the +appearance of being twice its original size.

+ +

[170]Scarcely had the big cat vacated the path +before we scrambled to the firm foothold and +I breathed a great sigh of relief when it was +reached. But Big Pete was convulsed with +suppressed laughter at the practical joke he +had played on the mountain lion.

+ +

“Gosh darn my magnolia breath! That +painter went as if he had a ball of hot rorrum +tied to his tail,” cried my guide.

+ +

It was difficult for me to realize that it was +Big Pete himself who had given vent to that +shuddering howl, and now the danger was over +I pleaded with him to give another exhibition +of his skill in wolf calls.

+ +

The good-natured fellow at first seemed +reluctant to repeat his performance, but at +length consented and put his hands to his +mouth, forming a trumpet, then bent forward +his body, stooping so low that his face was +was below his waist, after which he began again +that wild cry which so closely resembles in +sentiment and tone the shriek of the wind. +As the sound increased in volume the man[171] +waved his head from side to side; continuing +the movement he gradually assumed an +upright pose, and ended by making a low +obeisance as the sound died away.

+ +

The imitation was perfect and I was expressing +my delight and appreciation when my ear +caught a distant sound which put a sudden +stop to our conversation.

+ +

Was it the wind which I now heard? No! +there was not a breath of air stirring, neither +was it an echo. There could be no doubt +about it, the long-drawn sepulchral howl +which filled and permeated the shivering air +was an answering cry to Big Pete’s call.

+ +

Scarcely had the sound waves faded away +when in the mysterious distance came another +and another answer, until it seemed as if a +troop of lost souls were vocalizing their +misery. I unslung my gun and loosened my +revolvers in their fringed holsters, but Big Pete +only shrugged his shoulders and said,

+ +

“Come, let’s be moseying. ’Taint nothin’ +but wolves.” A fact of which I was as well[172] +aware of as Pete, but I, tenderfoot that I was, +could not treat howling of wolves with the +same unconcern as did my guide.

+ +

We soon reached a point where the goat +trail turned again up the mountain and we +forsook that ancient path for a diagonal +fracture very similar to the one by which we +had ascended, which led down the face of the +precipice “slantendicularwise,” Big Pete said, +and soon plunged into the bluish gray sea +which filled the valley. We were now enveloped +in a dense fog, which added materially +to the dangers of the journey. I had had so +many thrills in the last few moments that my +nerves were becoming dull and failed to vibrate +on this occasion, so that descending the cliff +in a fog by a diagonal fracture in the rock +became only an incident of our journey; this +trail, however, was wider than the one by +which we ascended.

+ +

The Rocky Mountains are full of new +sensations and I got a new one when I +discovered that the fog through which[173] +we had been traveling was in reality a cloud, +and, all unexpectedly, we emerged into the +clear mellow light below the floating vapor. +It was an enchanting scene which met our +eyes; below us stretched a beautiful valley.

+ +

For the first time in months I saw a human +habitation. The blue smoke from the chimney +ascended slowly in a tall column and then +floated horizontally in stratified layers. There +were fields of ripe grain, orchards, groves, +pasture lands and a winding stream fringed +with poplars, which flowed in a tortuous +course across the valley. As I feasted my eyes +on the peaceful scene a great longing took +possession of my soul.

+ +

Big Pete, too, was lost in thought, conjured +up by the scene below us. He stood leaning +on his rifle with his eyes fixed on the enchanting +picture; so full of unconscious dignity +was his pose, so immovable stood the mountain +man that he looked like a grand statue +done by a master hand.

+ +

But what thoughts were conjured up in the[174] +guide’s brain by the unexpected sight of +this ranch could not be interpreted from the +expression of his countenance, for that showed +no more trace of emotion than an American +Indian at the torture stake, or the marble +face of a Greek god. Presently he shifted +his pose, threw back his head, and Big Pete’s +eyes were fixed on the valley in front of us, as +with distended nostrils he sniffed the mountain +air, his brows contracted to a frown, his +eyes lost their gentle angelic look and seemed +to change from China blue to a cold steel +color, and his tightly closed mouth had a +stern expression about the corners which +appeared altogether out of keeping with the +occasion.

+ +

“Rot my hide!” he exclaimed, “if I hain’t +had a neighbor all these years and never +knowed it. Waugh! Some emigrant—terrification +seize him!—has found another park +an’ squatted, t’ain’t more’n eight miles as a +crow flies from mine, nuther, Le-loo.” He +looked at the sun and muttered. “Hang me,[175] +but ’tis t’other end of my own park,” then +he paused a moment and added fiercely, +“if these geysers know when they are well off, +they’ll steer shy of Darlinkel Park. If I +catch ’em scoutin’ ’round my claim, I’ll send +’em a-hoppin’.”

+ +

“Bless me, you are neighborly,” exclaimed a +voice in smooth, even tones.

+ +

“What!” said Pete, looking sternly at me. +“Did you speak?”

+ +

“I said nothing,” I replied.

+ +

Big Pete’s countenance changed and he ran +his hands over the cartridges in his belt in +the old familiar manner, and with a motion +quicker than I can describe it, whipped out +his revolvers and wheeled about face, at the +same time snapping out the words, “Throw up +your hands!”

+ + + + +

[176]CHAPTER XVII

+ + +

We were standing on the surface of a flat +table-rock, which jutted out from the face +of the towering cliff and overhung the valley +that was spread out like a map beneath us. +About twenty feet back from the edge of the +rock was a pile of debris heaped up against +the face of the cliff; but the remaining surface +of the stone was clean bare and weather-beaten. +The talus against the cliff was +composed of loose fragments of stone and +other products of wash and erosion. This +was overgrown with a thicket of stunted +shrubs, wry-necked goblin thistles and murderous +devil’s clubs. These bludgeon-shaped +plants, thickly covered with sharp thorns, +reared aloft their weapons as if in menace to +all living things; the unstable ground and +thorny thicket formed the only shelter where[177] +we could be ambushed in the rear, and it was +not a likely spot to be chosen for such a +purpose by man or beast.

+ +

When Big Pete wheeled about face with his +trusty revolvers in hand, I quickly followed +his example, and our mutual surprise may be +imagined when we found ourselves gazing in +the faces of a semicircle of gigantic wolves. +The animals were squatting on their haunches +at the foot of the talus, their wicked slant +eyes fixed upon us and their red tongues +lolling out from their cavernous mouths.

+ +

I cannot tell why, whether it was the state of +my nerves or the effect of the rare air of the +high altitude, or what, but I felt no fear at +facing this strange wolf pack. Indeed, to me +they appeared all to be laughing and their +red tongues lolled from their open mouths in +a very humorous fashion.

+ +

The whole scene appeared to me to be +exceedingly funny and, in a spirit of utter +reckless bravado, I doffed my fur cap, with +exaggerated politeness made a low bow, and,[178] +addressing the largest and most devilish-looking +wolf in the pack, exclaimed,

+ +

“Ah! this is Monsieur Loup-Garou, I +believe. Pardon me, Monsieur, but did you +speak a moment since?”

+ +

But Big Pete Darlinkel looked at the wolves, +and great beads of sweat stood on his forehead. +It was his turn to have the shivers. There +was no more color in his face than in a peeled +turnip. His gun shook in his left hand like a +aspen, while the spangled gun in his right +hand dropped its muzzle towards earth and +there was scarcely strength enough in his +nerveless fingers to have pulled a hair-trigger.

+ +

Pete’s great baby-blue eyes turned helplessly +to me; but it was now my innings, and +with a cheery voice I cried,

+ +

“Why, Pete, old fellow, what ails you?” +Then meanly quoting his own words, I added, +“They hain’t nothing but wolves!”

+ +

There is not a shadow of a doubt that Pete +expected the wolves to answer me with[179] +human voice, and I am willing to confess that, +even to me, there seemed to be no other +alternative for the slant-eyed bandits to +pursue. But for the present they appeared +to prefer to maintain a solemn silence.

+ +

The middle wolf had been looking intently +at us for some time before a well-modulated +voice said,

+ +

“I have answered your call, gentlemen; +how can I serve you?”

+ +

I was more than half expecting some such +answer, but if it had not been so evident that +Big Pete was badly frightened and had lost +all his self-possession, I should have thought +he was again practising his art as ventriloquist.

+ +

Of course I deceived myself. The wolves +had no more power of speech than a house-dog. +But I really thought the wolves were doing +the talking until I caught sight of a tall man +of handsome and distinguished appearance +seated among the weird goblin-thistles just +above the wolves. The stranger appeared +to be a man of almost any age; he might be[180] +young but, if old, he was wonderfully well +preserved. He was clad in a light-colored +buckskin suit of clothes, edged and trimmed +with fur, a fur cap on his head and moccasins +on his feet. And I noticed, with a start, that +he had that same red porcupine quill ornament +on his hunting shirt that the young Indian wore.

+ +

When I saw how his dress blended perfectly +with his surroundings I excused myself for +not sooner detecting him. I could not help +but admire his easy grace and the sense of +reserved strength in his strong figure. The +calmness and repose forcibly reminded me of +the mountain lion we had lately encountered.

+ +

“You kin hackle me and card my sinews, +if it hain’t the Wild Hunter himself an’ his +pack,” said Big Pete under his breath.

+ +

The color now began to return to his face +and at the recollection of his late rude words +the big fellow blushed like a school girl. +Gradually he recovered his self-possession, +and, doffing his cap, made a low bow as graceful +and as courtly as that of any polished[181] +courtier. This was an entirely new side to +my friend’s character and I listened with +interest when he said,

+ +

“Sir, whether you be loup-garou, werwolf, +witch-b’ar or all them to onct, I do not care. +What I want ter say is ef that tha’ ranch +yander be your’n, you may hamstring me ef +I hain’t proud to have such a man for a neighbor. +Whatever else you be yore no shavetail +or shorthorn, an’ that’s howsomever. I don’t +mind sayin’ that yore a better shot an’ all +around hunter an’ mountain man than Daniel +Boone, Simon Kenton, Davy Crockett, Kit +Carson, Bison McClean and Jim Baker all +rolled in one. Yore the slickest woodsman +on the divide. I’m powerful proud of you as +a neighbor and would be still prouder ef I +might call you my friend.”

+ +

Our strange visitor displayed a beautiful +white set of teeth as a frank smile played +over his smooth face. But his only answer +at that moment was an inclination of his +head and a muttered command to the wolves,[182] +which they instantly obeyed by silently +disappearing in the underbrush.

+ +

After a pause the tall stranger came forward, +and, removing his own cap, made a bow even +more courtly than that of Big Pete, as he thus +replied: “Sir, I feel highly honored at this +flattering expression of commendation. I can +honestly say that it is the greatest compliment +I have ever received from a stranger, and,” he +added with another winning smile, +“you are the first stranger with whom I have +held converse in nearly twenty years. That +I am not unfriendly I have already proved by +some trifling services, but the honor of the +acquaintance is mine.”

+ +

After the formalities of our meeting were +over the stranger stood for a few moments with +his chin resting on his breast. He was evidently +thinking over some serious subject. +His head was bare, his fur cap being in his +hands, and his hands locked behind his back. +A mass of light colored hair fell over his +forehead and shoulders.

+ +

[183]Presently he looked at us again, with that +same grave smile on his face, and said that +if we would consent to be blindfolded and +trust ourselves implicitly to his care, he would +be glad to take us to his home and would feel +honored if we should choose to visit him.

+ +

“You can proceed no further on this trail +for it ends here, and not even a goat can go +beyond the rock on which we stand, therefore +we must retrace our steps a few hundred +yards,” he explained, as he apologized for his +strange proposition. He securely bandaged +our eyes with our own handkerchiefs, and +after turning us around until I at least had +lost all sense of direction, he placed thongs in +our hands, and then we discovered that we +were to be led by some sort of animals, presumably +wolves. Whatever else they were, +they proved to be careful and sagacious +leaders.

+ +

After a short distance of rough climbing +where we constantly needed the personal help +of our mysterious host, we began to descend[184] +and soon our feet told us that we were traveling +on a comparatively smooth though steep trail. +Now and again our guide would speak to warn +us of stones or other obstructions in our path, +but, with the exception of these necessary +words of caution and brief words expressing +approval or reproof to the animals, we made +the journey in silence and in due time reached +the bottom, and our feet told us that we were +walking on a level shale-covered path.

+ +

At this point the creatures leading us were +dismissed and we could hear them scrambling +back over the trail. We heard the bleating +of sheep, the lowing of cattle and all the +multiplicity of noises so familiar on a well-stocked +farm, and we could easily detect the +different odors as familiar and characteristic +as the noises. We enjoyed to its fullest +extent the novelty of the homely sensations +aroused by the smell of new-mown hay and +the familiar medley of sounds peculiar to the +farm.

+ +

In due time we found ourselves at the foot[185] +of a couple of wooden steps, which we ascended, +and, crossing a broad veranda, entered +a doorway. Here we stood awaiting further +commands in utter ignorance of our surroundings. +Of course, we surmised we were in the +ranch house which we saw from the table rock, +but this was only a surmise.

+ +

“Gentlemen,” said the strange old man, +“you are welcome to my home, and allow me +to add that you are the only white men who +have ever crossed the threshold of this house.”

+ +

As he ceased speaking he removed the +bandages from our eyes.

+ + + + +

[186]CHAPTER XVIII

+ + +

It was a strange place, indeed, in which +I found myself. Our eyes were unbandaged +after we entered the portal of the ranch house, +and when Big Pete and I turned toward our +guide, we were facing in a direction that gave +us a sweeping view of the entire ranch. And +what we saw made us marvel.

+ +

This farm, between the towering, almost +insurmountable mountains, had evidently +been wrenched from what two decades before +had been as much of a wilderness as the Darlinkel +Park across the divide. Timber clothed +the mountains on either hand but the fertile +valley bottom was as rural as a district of the +middle west. On one hand stretched acres +and acres of ripened grain. Beyond was +pasture land dotted with strange whitefaced +animals, which later proved to be hybrid +buffalos, a strange cross between wild and[187] +domestic cattle.[3] In other pastures and on +the hillsides I could see goats and sheep, and +these too were evidently a cross breed of wild +and domestic stock, the goats having a very +strange resemblance to the fleet-footed shaggy +old fellows we had seen on the mountains, +while the sheep closely resembled usual domestic +sheep.

+ +

[3] Since that time the late Buffalo Jones has bred buffalo and +domestic cattle and called the offspring “catelow.”

+ +

There were stables, too, and corrals, all +made of logs, as was the ranch house, but what +seemed very strange to me was the fact that +there were no horses in sight. All of the animals +at work in the fields were those strange +hybrid buffalo-oxen, all save one, a single, +lame and apparently almost blind burro that +I saw lying in the sun. From his grayness +about the head I had little doubt that he was +of great age.

+ +

There were hordes of strange poultry too,—strange +to me at least, for never had I expected +to find flocking together wild turkeys, Canadian[188] +geese, black ducks, wood ducks, and +mallards (all with wings clipped so that they +never again could fly), sage hens, quail, +spruce-grouse, partridge, ptarmigan and western +mountain quail. All seemed perfectly +at home and comfortably domesticated.

+ +

Beyond the poultry houses was still another +outhouse, a long, low, log building before +which was a lawn. On the lawn were all +manner of perches and roosts and on these, +sunning themselves and preening their feathers, +were several types of predaceous birds, +ranging from huge and powerful female eagles +to smaller hawks and true falcons. This +evidently was the Wild Hunter’s falconry.

+ +

Another thing that made an instant impression +upon me was the number of men +at work about the place. The workmen were +all, without an exception, Indians, and as they +moved about silently, their stoic, almost +expressionless faces held a decided look of +contentment, a few of them turned toward the +porch with a frank, honest stare. There was[189] +no evidence of fear or restraint in their actions +but they always gave the wolf dogs plenty +of room as they passed them. These black +beasts were ugly, snarling things that showed +no love for anyone; on the least provocation +menacing growls rumbled in their throats.

+ +

What manner of place was this that we had +permitted ourselves to be led into? Indeed, +what manner of man was this strange host of +ours? I shot a sidelong glance at him and it +seemed to me as if I caught a strange, hunted +look in his eyes, and a sad smile on his handsome +but grim countenance. A slight feeling +of fear crept into my heart. Could this +strange man be my father? For some reason +he certainly did attract me and excite my +sympathy, yet I stood in awe of him. The +strangeness of my surroundings, too, settled +upon me. I turned toward Pete and I had a +premonition of evil. I could see that he too +was affected the same way. The valley was +an earthly paradise, the Wild Hunter a kindly +gentleman, what then was it that gave me an[190] +uncomfortable and uneasy feeling? I was +eager to be alone with Pete for I knew that he +would have some interesting observations to +make.

+ +

“I am disappointed, gentlemen, you say +nothing. Isn’t my ranch interesting to you?” +demanded the Wild Hunter, with a smile. +In a low smooth voice he gave some orders to a +young Indian who was walking toward the +stables. The Indian instantly snapped into +action and hurried away as if one of the black +wolf dogs were snapping at his heels, and I felt +certain that it was the youth whom we had +been trailing.

+ +

A hurried and very unpleasant thought +flashed through my mind: What was the +source of the power the Wild Hunter held over +these Indians? They were not slaves in this +mountain-surrounded prison; this grim, forceful +but kindly wild man did not hold them +through fear. He always smiled when he +greeted them, but he never smiled at his +wolves; when giving them orders or even[191] +looking at them, the expression of his face +was stern and almost fierce. But the man +had asked a question. He was expecting an +answer.

+ +

“It is a wonderful place,” I managed to +stammer; “who could conceive of such a +remarkable ranch buried here in the heart of +the wilderness?”

+ +

“It’s a ring-tailed snorter, hamstring me if +it hain’t,” said Big Pete in an attempt to be +enthusiastic.

+ +

The man’s face glowed with pleasure.

+ +

“You are the first white men to see it. I +think I have achieved something here in the +wilds, thanks a great deal to Pluto and his +strain.”

+ +

“Eh, what?” exclaimed Big Pete in alarm.

+ +

“To—to—whom,” I gasped, for to have the +man actually confess an alliance with Satan +rather startled me also.

+ +

The Wild Hunter chuckled in an amused +manner.

+ +

“Thanks to Pluto, I said. But Pluto is[192] +that black wolf-dog over there, nevertheless. +I think that the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character +to a nicety.”

+ +

He pointed to the massive, deep-chested, +long-haired, long-limbed, vicious looking leader +of his black wolf pack where it was chained to +a post. The great animal glared at his +master when his name was mentioned. He +crouched twenty feet away with his slanting +green eyes fixed constantly on his master’s +face and in them ever flared a fierce, wicked +fire.

+ +

“Yes, you son of Satan, you and your +hybrid whelps have helped me do all this in +spite of the fact that you hate me, and would +love to tear me limb from limb. You splendid, +ugly brute, you are insensible to kindness!”

+ +

I noticed that whenever he looked the wolf +in the face his own countenance became grim +and his eyes exceedingly fierce and not unlike +the wolf itself in expression.

+ +
+

+

“I think the name ‘Pluto’ fits his character to a nicety”

+
+ + + +

[193]

“He hates me,” he continued, turning to +us, “because of his ancestors. In him is the +blood of a Great Dane noted for its strength, +size and ferocity, a fierce brute which I brought +over the mountains with me many years ago. +Pluto’s mother was a pure black wolf of a +mean disposition, and his father the half-breed +son of a Great Dane and a she-wolf. +He is the fiercest and most bloodthirsty beast +in the whole pack, he hates me with the intense +hatred of his wolfish nature, he hates me because +he knows that I am the master of the +pack, the real leader, and he is jealous. +Since his puppy days he has watched for a +chance to kill me; twice he nearly succeeded—the +time will no doubt come when it will be +his life or mine. Yet because of his wonderful +strength, endurance and sagacity, I could +almost love him.

+ +

“His breed does not want to recognize any +master. But I am his master!” cried the +Wild Hunter as his eyes flashed and he struck +himself on his chest, “and he knows it. The +only way, however, that I keep my power +over him and his pack is by forcing myself[194] +to think every time I speak to them, now I +am going to kill you, and brutes though they +are they can read my mind and fear me. +Besides which self-interest helps a little towards +their loyalty. With me for a leader +there is always a kill at the end of the hunt, +and they know that they come in for a share +of the food.

+ +

“Sometimes I fear the wolves will break +loose and attack my Indians, which I would +very much regret, for the Redmen are faithful +fellows and we form a happy community. +The Indians look upon me as Big Medicine +because I can control these medicine wolves.”

+ +

Big Pete looked at the man with open +admiration, a man who by the sheer power +of his will could control a band of wolves, +any one of which was powerful enough to kill +an ox, certainly was a man to please the wild +nature of Big Pete. “But,” said Pete, “you +say Pluto has helped you. How?” he asked.

+ +

“How,” exclaimed the Wild Hunter, “why, +gentlemen, by governing the pack as savage[195] +as himself. The pack is the secret of my +whole success; my power over them first won +the allegiance of the Indians, won their admiration +and their respect. They know that I +could turn those wolves upon them at any +moment, but they also know that I would not +think of doing such an act and they are human +and love me; the wolves are brutes and not +susceptible to kindness. The wolves hate +the Redmen as they hate me, but they supplied +us all with food, they secured for us our winter +meat while the men worked to build houses +and clear the land, and thus made it possible +for us to start this settlement. They even +acted as pack animals for us, each of them +carrying as much as seventy pounds in weight +on their backs. But be on your guard, +gentlemen, be on your guard! Remember +that you are strangers to the wolves and they +will not hesitate, if the opportunity offers, to +rend you and even devour you.”

+ +

A moment later his expression changed.

+ +

“Enough of this,” he exclaimed in pleasanter[196] +tones, “come, dinner is served,” and turning, +he led the way through the broad doorway +of the log ranch house into an almost sumptuously +furnished dining room where two +silent, soft-footed Indians began immediately +to serve a truly remarkable meal.

+ +

“He may be lo-coed,” whispered Pete to me +as we took our places at the table, “but I’ll +tell the folks, he is a master looney alright. +He knows how to make Injuns love him and +varmints fear him, he kin pack all his duffle +in my bag, he need not cough up eny money +when he’s with me. Reckon we be alright +here, but waugh! we’ve gotter watch tha’ +black wolf pack!—yes and also that young +Indian whose ram you shot; it seems he looks +after the wolves and sees to it that they are +fastened up in their corral. I wouldn’t want +him to be sort of careless, you know.”

+ + + + +

[197]CHAPTER XIX

+ + +

What a dining room that was! All of logs, +high ceilinged, with smoked rafters stained +like an old meerschaum pipe. It reminded me +of a wealthy man’s hunting lodge in Maine, +perhaps, rather than the abode of a wild man. +There was a huge yawning fireplace at one +end, above which was the finest specimen of +an elk’s head I have ever seen. There were +other heads, too, prong-horned antelope, +beautiful bison heads, remarkable specimens +of bighorn sheep and mountain goats, there +were buffalo robes and wolf robes strewn over +the floor, and there were abundant well +stocked gun cases on every hand.

+ +

But conspicuous among the collection of +firearms was one, kept apart, polished and +cleaned, and on a rack made of elk horns +handily placed just above the big mantle. +It was beautifully though not elaborately[198] +made, with a fine damascus barrel of tremendous +length, a lock and set trigger that +showed expert handicraft, and stock of beautifully +polished birds-eye maple. An expert +would have known immediately that it was a +first-water product of an expert gunsmith.

+ +

Big Pete noticed it as soon as I did and he +could not keep his eyes from roving to it +occasionally during the meal.

+ +

“You may scalp me, stranger, fer sayin’ it, +but I’d like mightily well to heft that tha’ +shooting iron o’ your’n and examine it when +we git through with chuck,” he said.

+ +

Our strange host looked up at the rifle, then +searchingly at Big Pete.

+ +

“I don’t mind showing it to you, but you +must not touch it,” he said finally.

+ +

“I reckon I wouldn’t hurt it none. I’ve +handled guns before,” said Big Pete shortly, +and I could see that he was piqued at the +man’s attitude.

+ +

“Guess you wouldn’t, but I’ve made it a +rule never to let strange hands touch that[199] +rifle,” said the strange man, and there was a +grimness about his tone that forbade quibbling.

+ +

“Huh, well I can’t say as perhaps yore not +right about yore shootin’ hardware at that,” +said Pete. Then after glancing at it again, +he added, “a hunter’s gun and a woodsman’s ax +should never be trusted in strange hands. Bet +a ten spot it’s a Patrick Mullen. Hain’t it?”

+ +

The name of my kinsman, the famous +gunsmith, brought a sudden realization that +Mullen was my own family name.

+ +

The mention of the gunsmith seemed also +to have a curious effect on the old man. +His face grew red under the tan and his brow +wrinkled and I could see his cold blue eyes +scrutinizing Big Pete closely. Finally he +said bluntly,

+ +

“It is, and it’s worth a thousand dollars.”

+ +

“A thousand dollars!” I exclaimed, “a +thousand dollars?”

+ +

“Yes,” cried the old man almost fiercely, +“yes, yes, and it is my gun. He gave it to +me, he did—to me and not to Donald. He—”

+ +

[200]He stood up suddenly as if he intended to +stride over and seize the gun, to protect it from +us but as quickly sat down again and buried +his face in his hands, and I could see him biting +his lips as if he were attempting to control his +feeling.

+ +

As for me, quite suddenly a great light +seemed to dawn. This strange old man was +mentioning names that were familiar—that +meant worlds to me. I leaned toward him +eagerly. Big Pete stood quietly listening, a +silent but interested spectator.

+ +

“Did you know Donald Mullen, a brother +to the famous gunsmith? Tell me, did you +know him? I have come all the way—”

+ +

I stopped in wonder. Never in all my life +do I ever expect to witness such a pitiful +expression of anguish pictured so vividly on +the human countenance as it was on the face +of the Wild Hunter.

+ +

“What,” he whispered, “did you know +him?”

+ +

“He was my father,” I answered simply.

+ +

[201]For a moment the Wild Hunter looked at +me intently, then said, “I believe you, you +favor him somewhat.” He then came forward +as if to shake my hand, but changed +his mind and sat down with a forced and +wan smile.

+ +

“Did I know Don Mullen? Did I? He +was my partner, my bunkee for many years +and on many prospecting trips, a better +bunkee no man ever had, but he is dead now, +dead! dead! dead! been dead for a dozen years. +He was killed by an avalanche. A better +partner no man ever had,” he murmured and +relaxed into silence.

+ +

My efforts to get more information of my +parents were of no avail. The Wild Hunter +turned the conversation in other directions.

+ +

Of course, the knowledge that my real +father was dead, had been dead a long time, +caused me a feeling of sadness, yet strangely +enough the little knowledge that I had gleaned +from this strange old man brought a sense of +relief to me. I think that it must have been[202] +a certain sense of satisfaction to know that +this queer man was not my father.

+ +

But if he was not Donald Mullen, who was +he? That question kept me pondering and for +the rest of the meal I was silent, speculating +on this strange situation, nor did I have an +opportunity to note, as Big Pete did, the +tearful, kindly glances that the Wild Hunter +shot at me now and then.

+ +

Still, for all, he was sociable, extremely +sociable, and talkative, too, but I fancy now +as I recall it, he was simply keeping the conversation +in safe channels, for it was very +apparent that the rifle and his former mining +partner were painful subjects.

+ +

Dinner over, we all went out onto the porch +of the ranch house, where we talked while +the twilight lasted. At least Big Pete and the +Wild Hunter talked as they smoked two of +those mysterious long cigars, but I was still +silent because of the many strange thoughts +that were romping through my mind.

+ +

Soon darkness settled down and Big Pete[203] +began to yawn. I also was heavy-eyed, and +presently the Wild Hunter clapped his hands +and summoned a leather-skinned old Indian +to whom he gave brief low command in the +Mewan Indian tongue, as I was afterwards +informed by Big Pete, then turning to us he +said in his fascinating soft voice:

+ +

“It will probably be a novelty for both of +you gentlemen to again sleep in a bed between +sheets and under a roof. I doubt whether you +will enjoy it even though the sheets are clean +linen which were spun and woven by my noble +Indians. Moose Ear, here, will conduct you +to your rooms and I will take a turn about +the place before retiring to see that all is well, +and also to see that my black wolf pack is +securely confined within the wolf corral. This +is a precaution, gentlemen, which I take every +night, because a wolf is a wolf no matter +how well trained he may be upon the surface, +and night is the time wolves delight to run. +These beasts are especially dangerous to +strangers and it is for that reason I am putting[204] +you in the house in place of allowing you to +camp outdoors, as I know you would prefer to +do. Good-night, gentlemen, see that the +doors are closed. Pleasant dreams.”

+ +

As we said good-night to him I wondered +vaguely if the wolf pen was securely built, for +it seemed to me that I detected a suggestion +of doubt in the mind of the Wild Hunter +himself. I little realized, however, the horrors +the darkness had in store for us.

+ + + + +

[205]CHAPTER XX

+ + +

Moose Ear, the silent, wrinkled old Indian, +with lighted candles made of buffalo tallow, +guided Big Pete and me up the broad +skilfully built puncheon stairway to the upper +story of the surprisingly large ranch house, +where he showed us to our rooms, rooms +which were a joy to look upon. Each was +furnished with a heavy, hand-made four-posted +bedstead, which in spite of the massiveness +was beautifully made, and I wondered +at the patience of the Wild Hunter in teaching +the Indians their craftmanship.

+ +

The other furniture in the room was also +hand wrought, as were the fiber rugs on the +floor and the checked homespun blankets on +the beds. There was a harmonious and +pleasing effect; the rooms were cheerful, +abounding in evidences of Indian handicraft. +Beadwork and embroidery of dyed porcupine[206] +quills were prevalent, even the tester which +roofed the four-post bedstead was ornamented +with fringes of buckskin and designs made of +beads and porcupine quills. The chairs and +floors were plentifully supplied with fur rugs, +and the quaint, old-fashioned appearance of +the room in nowise detracted from its comfort +or even luxury.

+ +

If it had not been for the uncomfortable +thought of that pack of black wolves outside, +I am sure I would have been supremely happy +at the prospect of once more spending a night +between clean and cool sheets and a real +feather pillow on which to rest my head. +Eagerly and almost excitedly I threw off my +clothes and donned the long, linen nightshirt +with which old Moose Ear had provided me. +Then I put the buckhorn extinguisher over +the candle and dove into the feather bed as +gleefully as a child on Christmas Eve.

+ +

I expected to immediately fall asleep, but +there is where I made a mistake; my mind +would not cease working, the wheels in my[207] +head kept buzzing and would not stop. I was +as wide awake as a codfish; the bed was comfortable, +too comfortable, but tired though I +was I felt no inclination to sleep. I thought +it was the strangeness of my surroundings +which kept me tossing from side to side, but +I soon realized that the trouble was to be +found in the fact that for months I had only +had the sky for my roof, never using our tents +or open faced shack except in bad weather; +but here, the ornamented tester of the bed +and the ceiling itself seemed to be resting on +my chest; in spite of the wide open windows +the room seemed stuffy and oppressive. I felt +as if I would suffocate.

+ +

Twice I got up and sat by the open window +and gazed out at the black landscape. The +sky was cloudy and there were no stars; this +combined with the pine trees about the +ranch house made the darkness so black and +thick that it seemed as if one might cut it in +chunks, with a knife. The air felt good to +breathe but I did not propose to sit by the[208] +window all night so at last I arose, put moccasins +on my feet and, taking my blankets with +me, stole stealthily down the stairs, opened +the front door and made my bed on the floor +of the broad piazza. I had not forgotten +the warning to keep indoors, but I thought I +would rather risk the wolves than to smother +all night.

+ +

In the darkness I discovered another occupant +of the piazza also rolled up in a blanket +taken from a bed in the house. Feeling with +my hands I discovered that it was Big Pete. +Comfortably settling myself in my blanket I +felt the breeze from the mountain blowing +over my face and through my hair, and it +soothed me until I dropped off into gentle +slumber; but during the months I had been +sleeping in the open I had learned the art, as +the saying is, of sleeping with one eye open. +In this case, however, if the eye had really +been wide open it could have seen nothing +because of the darkness, but the darkness +did not interfere with my ability to hear, and[209] +after I had been sleeping awhile I found +myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in my +blankets with beads of perspiration on my +forehead and that terrible sensation of horror +which one experiences in a nightmare. I +knew that I had heard something, but what?

+ +

The oppressive silence of the wilderness +made the valley appear as if Nature was +holding her breath for a moment before giving +voice to an explosion of sound. I sensed +impending disaster of some sort. What it +was I could not guess, but was convinced that +something was about to happen.

+ +

As I held my breath and listened, the ranch +house was silent; even Pete had not, apparently, +awakened, but I could not hear his regular +breathing. Now I thought I could detect +a soft and very faint noise as of some large +body creeping over the puncheon steps. I also +imagined I detected the noise of padded +feet and the scraping noise of claws on the +wood. A shudder ran through me. Was a +panther, a mountain lion, about to spring[210] +upon me? No, I abandoned the thought +and instinctively I knew that it must be one +of the black wolf pack. Then I remembered +hearing the cracking and breaking of sticks +or timber while I was trying to sleep in the +bedroom, and I felt that Pluto had broken out +of the pen and was creeping up on us slowly +and stealthily as I have seen a fox creep up on +a covey of quail.

+ +

Would the beast presently hurl its terrible +form upon me, or on Big Pete? I attempted +to warn my friend, but my tongue clung to +the roof of my mouth and for the moment I +was powerless and speechless, subdued by a +combination of fear of the real beast and +superstitious fear of the fabulous werwolf +or loup-garou,[4] but the next moment I pulled +myself together, mastered my trembling limbs, +rolled softly out of my blankets, and gun in +hand wormed my way toward the spot where +Big Pete lay, determined to sell my life +[211]dearly. With Big Pete beside me, now that +I was thoroughly awake, I would fight all +the werwolves of the old world and all the +loup-garous of Canada. I reached out and +felt for Pete but he was not there, the blankets +were empty; once or twice I thought I detected +the glint of the wolves’ eyes, but the +night was very dark and in the shadow of +the roof I could really see nothing.

+ +

[4] A werwolf, or loup-garou, is a legendary man who, it was formerly +believed, could at will take on the form and nature of a wolf.

+ +

Closer and closer sounded the stealthy, +dragging noise, and I heard a hand feel softly +for the latch of the front door and could hear +fingers scraping ever so softly over the wood +surface of the other side. A slight rattle +told me that the hand had found the latch +and that presently the door would be flung +open. With my revolver ready I waited +developments and braced myself for the +attack.

+ +

The door flew open wide, and the voice of +the Wild Hunter cried,

+ +

“Pluto, you fiend, down! down! I say!”

+ +

But this time the huge brute did not obey[212] +and the command was answered by a low +rebellious growl, a scratching of feet on the +puncheons, and a heavy thud of someone +falling told me that the final struggle for the +leadership of the black wolf pack had begun.

+ +

Then burst upon the stillness of the night +such an uproar that for a moment I thought +the whole pack was mixed in the fight, but +at length I heard Pluto’s snarling, rumbling +growl, answered by the distant howl of the +wolf pack, followed immediately by a close-by +yell that chilled my blood; after this came +Big Pete’s war cry, then the crash of falling +objects, shrieks and growls and savage yells.

+ +

I had flung myself forward, and there in the +pitch darkness of the doorway of the hall I +felt and heard rather than saw the lean twisting +bodies of the Wild Hunter and Pluto +clasped in a life and death struggle on the +floor. I feared to use my revolver, as it would +have been impossible to tell whether I was +shooting the hunter or the wolf.

+ +

Suddenly a light burst upon the scene.[213] +Big Pete’s absence was explained; he had +secured a lantern and holding it aloft with his +left hand, with a six-shooter in his right, he +paused a moment over the struggling figures. +By the light of the lantern one could see that +the Wild Hunter was on his back struggling +with the giant beast which he was trying to +choke with his two hands, while the wolf’s +teeth were seeking the throat of the man. It +was a terrible scene but it was no time to waste +in horror. The efforts of the hunter to free +himself from his terrible assailant would have +been of little avail but for the assistance +of Big Pete, for the wolf was shaking the wild +man from side to side with terrific force, +very much the same as a bull-terrier might +shake a cat.

+ +

Pete wasted no time but placing the muzzle +of his gun against the wolf’s head he fired, +then shouted to me, “Look behind you.”

+ +

As I wheeled about I found that I was facing +the rest of the pack. Pluto reared upon his +hind legs, clawed the air frantically in his[214] +death struggle, and fell with a thud across +his master’s body, but Pete and I were now +concentrating our fire on the snarling, leaping +bodies of the wolf pack. Fortunately the +death of Pluto and the silence of the Wild +Hunter seemed to discourage the pack, they +evidently missed their leaders and this gave +us the advantage, for if they had rushed us we +undoubtedly would have fallen victims to +their savage teeth.

+ +

In the melee the lantern was upset and the +struggle ended in darkness as it began, but +when things quieted down and Pete relit the +lantern there were only two wolves which +were alive and they were fiercely attacking +each other. We soon dispatched them, however, +and then devoted our attention to the +Wild Hunter over whose body Big Pete was +now bending.

+ +

“By the great horn spoon, Le-loo!” cried +he, looking up for a moment, “we’ve wiped out +the pack, and now that the scrap is over here +comes the Injuns. I calculate our friend here[215] +is a dead one; Pluto has chewed him to pieces. +Come, lend a hand and we will see what we +can do for the poor old man; he certainly did +put up a glorious fight.”

+ +

Reaching down I gathered the old man’s +legs in my arms, and with Big Pete supporting +his head and shoulders, we carried him into +my room and laid him on the feather bed +under the savagely ornamented tester.

+ +

Big Pete was all action then, and I helped +as best I could. The Scout ripped one of the +homespun sheets into ribbons and with these +made bandages and proceeded to stay the +flow of blood from the old man’s lacerated +throat. He worked hard and long and now +and then he would shake his head dubiously. +Presently he muttered, “’Taint much use, +Ol’ Timer, I guess yore a goner. Yore goneta +pass over t’ Divide this time, I guess. That +tha’ Pluto fiend done chewed you up fer +further orders.”

+ +

At this the old man opened his eyes, and a +grim smile wrinkled his now ashen face.

+ +

[216]“I knew he’d do it some day, and I think +he got me this time. The Mewan Indians +call the giant wolf “Too-le-ze” and that is also +the name they gave me, but I am not a werwolf, +a loup-garou or a Too-le-ze. I was only +their master but now their victim.

+ +

“I feared that Pluto, as I call him, or Too-le-ze, +was strong and treacherous and that +is why I ruled him with an iron hand. He’s +got me this time. I guess it had to end this +way—give me a cup of water.”

+ +

He then fixed his gaze on me and I noticed +that he no longer had that worried, haunted +look which had heretofore characterized him.

+ +

“So you are Donald’s son—well, when I +heard Pluto stalking you I knew that it was +you or your uncle that the beast would get; +it was fate that made me slip and fall, and +once down the wolf saw his long-looked-for +opportunity and instantly availed himself of it. +But the good Lord was not going to allow me +to bring bad luck to both you and your father, +boy. Yes, I am Fay Mullen and I caused[217] +the death of your father, and my brother. +I bear the brand of Cain.

+ +

“We were crossing a steep bank of snow at +the foot of a cliff, and being both tired and +hungry we were bickering and quarreling over +nothing. I should have remembered that +your father was but just recovering from an +attack of nervous prostration, but I did not; +we had been months in the mountains prospecting +and the unprofitable toil and loneliness +must have got on my nerves. At any rate, +after some hot, unbrotherly language, we +agreed to part company.

+ +

“We sat down on the snow and divided our +outfit by lot. I got the flint-lock Patrick +Mullen, the fierce Great Dane and the gentle +little donkey; your father got the packhorse +and the Winchester rifle.

+ +

“We—we—parted without saying good-bye, +and just then an elk came out on the snow +bank. Instantly your father fired and I fired, +the elk fell, but the simultaneous concussion +of the reports of the two rifles started the[218] +snow to moving. The Great Dane and the +donkey sensed the danger and fled to the +right. I turned to warn your father and +motioned him back, but he came on a run +toward me and I fled at the heels of my outfit. +The burro and dog escaped to safety, I was +caught in the edge of the slide, knocked unconscious +and buried in snow, from which the +dog rescued me.

+ +

“A fragment of stone struck me on the head +and I have never been the same since then. +Your father and his outfit are buried under +five hundred feet of snow and rocks. I camped +nearby for days but could find no trace of my +brother and all the time a voice seemed to cry, +‘You killed your brother; you are marked +with the brand of Cain.’

+ +

“This thought has haunted me night and day +and I have never quarreled with a man since +then; for fear that I might do so, I have +avoided white men ever since and buried +myself in these mountains. I found this +valley and I hid here and with the aid of the[219] +Great Dane and the wolf dogs I bred, as +beasts of burden, I built this ranch. I—I—was +afraid—all the time, though—afraid someone +would—find out about—Donald’s death +and blame it on me. When you—said—you—were—Donald’s +son I was frightened—I +thought you’d come to get me—for killing +your—father and—I—I—I was going to kill +myself. But Pluto got—me—and saved me +from further guilt. I—”

+ +

He said more, but neither Big Pete nor I +could understand him. Indeed, he kept mumbling +incoherently for an hour or more while +we watched over him and did all that we could +to make him comfortable until the death +rattle in his throat put an end to his mumbling. +But despite our efforts, he passed on at dawn. +Just as the first warm light of the sun glowed +above the mountains, he breathed his last.

+ + +

Now you know why my private den is just +cram full of the things you fellows like. You +may also guess where I procured the black[220] +wolfskin rugs and the rare bead and porcupine +quill decorations. Yes, that long-barrelled +rifle hanging on the buckhorn rack +is the famous Patrick Mullen gun. It is a +rifle that Washington, Boone or Crockett would +have almost given their scalps to possess, +because it is the same pattern as the ones +they themselves used but more scientifically +and skillfully made. It’s a flint-lock, too, and +that is the funny part about it that interests +all the Scouts of our Troop. It is my good-turn +mascot, for as long as it hangs there I am +under the influence of my wild uncle and can +quarrel with no man.

+ +

Now you know why the gun is preserved +as a trophy for my old Scouts and is an object +of veneration upon which they love to gaze +when they sit cross-legged on the skins of the +black wolf pack before the crackling fire of +their Scoutmaster’s private den.

+ +

Big Pete? Oh, he now runs the Pluto +Ranch in Paradise Valley.

+
+ + + + +
+

THE BEARD BOOKS FOR BOYS

+ +

By Dan C. Beard

+ + +

THE AMERICAN BOY’S HANDY BOOK. Or, What +to Do and How to Do It

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

Gives sports adapted to all seasons of the year, tells boys how to make all +kinds of things—boats, traps, toys, puzzles, aquariums, fishing-tackle; how +to tie knots, splice ropes, to make bird calls, sleds, blow-guns, balloons; how +to rear wild birds, to train dogs, and do the thousand and one things that +boys take delight in.

+ + +

THE OUTDOOR HANDY BOOK. For Playground, +Field, and Forest

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

“How to play all sorts of games with marbles, how to make and spin more +kinds of tops than most boys ever heard of, how to make the latest things +in plain and fancy kites, where to dig bait and how to fish, all about boats +and sailing, and a host of other things ... an unmixed delight to any +boy.”—New York Tribune.

+ + +

THE FIELD AND FOREST HANDY BOOK. Or, New +Ideas for Out of Doors

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

“Instructions as to ways to build boats and fire-engines, make aquariums, +rafts, and sleds, to camp in a back-yard, etc. No better book of the kind exists.”—Chicago +Record-Herald.

+ + +

SHELTERS, SHACKS, AND SHANTIES

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

Easily workable directions, accompanied by very full illustration, for over +fifty shelters, shacks, and shanties.

+ + +

BOAT-BUILDING AND BOATING. A Handy Book +for Beginners

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

All that Dan Beard knows and has written about the building of every simple +kind of boat, from a raft to a cheap motor-boat, is brought together in +this book.

+ + +

THE JACK OF ALL TRADES. Or, New Ideas for +American Boys

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

“This book is a capital one to give any boy for a present at Christmas, on +a birthday, or indeed at any time.”—The Outlook.

+ + +

THE BOY PIONEERS. Sons of Daniel Boone

+

Illustrated by the author

+ +

“How to become a member of the ‘Sons of Daniel Boone’ and take part in +all the old pioneer games, and many other things in which boys are interested.”—Philadelphia +Press.

+ + +

THE BLACK WOLF-PACK

+ +

“A genuine thriller of mystery and red-blooded conflicts, well calculated to +hold the mind and the heart of its boy and, for that matter, its adult +reader.”—Philadelphia North American.

+
+ + +
+

THE BEARD BOOKS FOR GIRLS

+ +

By Lina Beard and Adelia B. Beard

+ + +

THE AMERICAN GIRL’S HANDY BOOK. How to +Amuse Yourself and Others

+ +

With nearly 500 illustrations

+ +

“It is a treasure which, once possessed, no practical girl would willingly +part with.”—Grace Greenwood.

+ + +

THINGS WORTH DOING AND HOW TO DO THEM

+ +

With some 600 drawings by the authors that show exactly how they should +be done

+ +

“The book will tell you how to do nearly anything that any live girl +really wants to do.”—The World To-day.

+ + +

HANDICRAFT AND RECREATION FOR GIRLS

+ +

With over 700 illustrations by the authors

+ +

“It teaches how to make serviceable and useful things of all kinds +out of every kind of material. It also tells how to play and how to +make things to play with.”—Chicago Evening Post.

+ + +

WHAT A GIRL CAN MAKE AND DO. New Ideas +for Work and Play

+ +

With more than 300 illustrations by the authors

+ +

“It would be a dull girl who could not make herself busy and happy +following its precepts.... A most inspiring book for an active-minded +girl.”—Chicago Record-Herald.

+ + +

ON THE TRAIL

+ +

Illustrated by the authors

+ +

This volume tells how a girl can live outdoors, camping in the woods, +and learning to know its wild inhabitants.

+ + +

MOTHER NATURE’S TOY SHOP

+ +

Profusely illustrated by the authors

+ +

How children can make toys easily and economically from wild +flowers, grasses, green leaves, seed-vessels, fruits, etc.

+ + +

LITTLE FOLKS’ HANDY BOOK

+ +

With many illustrations

+ +

Contains a wealth of devices for entertaining children by means of +paper building-cards, wooden berry-baskets, straw and paper furniture, +paper jewelry, etc.

+ +
+ +

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK

+
+ + + + + + + + +
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK ***
+
+***** This file should be named 22109-h.htm or 22109-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/1/0/22109/
+
+Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+
+ + + diff --git a/22109-h/images/frontispiece.jpg b/22109-h/images/frontispiece.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c2dd81 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/frontispiece.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/frontispiece_th.jpg b/22109-h/images/frontispiece_th.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..19c7cb4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/frontispiece_th.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo1.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo1.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..669d9b4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo1.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo1_th.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo1_th.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ac9fd8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo1_th.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo2.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo2.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2087d1f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo2.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo2_th.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo2_th.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5382726 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo2_th.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo3.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo3.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3c6783 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo3.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/illo3_th.jpg b/22109-h/images/illo3_th.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df97e13 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/illo3_th.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/logo.jpg b/22109-h/images/logo.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..05f1c9d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/logo.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-h/images/logo_th.jpg b/22109-h/images/logo_th.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..44b7dc4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-h/images/logo_th.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/c001.jpg b/22109-page-images/c001.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c22f1c6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/c001.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f001.png b/22109-page-images/f001.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f19b9d6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f001.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f002.jpg b/22109-page-images/f002.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d8adbb Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f002.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f003.png b/22109-page-images/f003.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a69ed9 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f003.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f004.png b/22109-page-images/f004.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..299c9ca Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f004.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f005.png b/22109-page-images/f005.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de92509 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f005.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f006.png b/22109-page-images/f006.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aef5ef3 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f006.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f007.png b/22109-page-images/f007.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ef5662 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f007.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/f008.png b/22109-page-images/f008.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed08219 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/f008.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p001.png b/22109-page-images/p001.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4594d0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p001.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p002.png b/22109-page-images/p002.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e8abbc Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p002.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p003.png b/22109-page-images/p003.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba48e92 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p003.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p004.png b/22109-page-images/p004.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d93a53f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p004.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p005.png b/22109-page-images/p005.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..89d7ca6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p005.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p006.png b/22109-page-images/p006.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b045fde Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p006.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p007.png b/22109-page-images/p007.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..88b6785 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p007.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p008.png b/22109-page-images/p008.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..caf015b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p008.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p009.png b/22109-page-images/p009.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fb7b07 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p009.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p010.png b/22109-page-images/p010.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..670d4ac Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p010.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p011.png b/22109-page-images/p011.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6fdc9a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p011.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p012.png b/22109-page-images/p012.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..521eb17 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p012.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p013.png b/22109-page-images/p013.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b777b8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p013.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p014.png b/22109-page-images/p014.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdf735c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p014.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p015.png b/22109-page-images/p015.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..62fb772 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p015.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p016.png b/22109-page-images/p016.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8606a1b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p016.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p017.png b/22109-page-images/p017.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7459531 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p017.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p018.png b/22109-page-images/p018.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbff546 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p018.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p019.png b/22109-page-images/p019.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6f0883 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p019.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p020.png b/22109-page-images/p020.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..817c366 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p020.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p021.png b/22109-page-images/p021.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ec5480 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p021.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p022.png b/22109-page-images/p022.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eed4337 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p022.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p023.png b/22109-page-images/p023.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8302e2d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p023.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p024.png b/22109-page-images/p024.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdb127c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p024.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p025.png b/22109-page-images/p025.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..058759a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p025.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p026.png b/22109-page-images/p026.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8603988 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p026.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p027.png b/22109-page-images/p027.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d86edb Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p027.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p028.png b/22109-page-images/p028.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ebd52d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p028.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p029.png b/22109-page-images/p029.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cf221c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p029.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p030.png b/22109-page-images/p030.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..14e0e92 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p030.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p031.png b/22109-page-images/p031.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb09d80 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p031.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p032.png b/22109-page-images/p032.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cfe2da Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p032.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p033.png b/22109-page-images/p033.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f02ae57 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p033.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p034.png b/22109-page-images/p034.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8896803 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p034.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p035.png b/22109-page-images/p035.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1f4389 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p035.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p036-insert.jpg b/22109-page-images/p036-insert.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6220d8e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p036-insert.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p036.png b/22109-page-images/p036.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80a0945 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p036.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p037.png b/22109-page-images/p037.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..46d43fd Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p037.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p038.png b/22109-page-images/p038.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c20c5ef Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p038.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p039.png b/22109-page-images/p039.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..97db925 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p039.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p040.png b/22109-page-images/p040.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fd5540 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p040.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p041.png b/22109-page-images/p041.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a11f1f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p041.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p042.png b/22109-page-images/p042.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d63a192 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p042.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p043.png b/22109-page-images/p043.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16e3b98 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p043.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p044.png b/22109-page-images/p044.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d83c93e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p044.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p045.png b/22109-page-images/p045.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a17d247 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p045.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p046.png b/22109-page-images/p046.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..68b12ca Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p046.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p047.png b/22109-page-images/p047.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..56bad09 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p047.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p048.png b/22109-page-images/p048.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..298d230 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p048.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p049.png b/22109-page-images/p049.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7741df Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p049.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p050.png b/22109-page-images/p050.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d262273 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p050.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p051.png b/22109-page-images/p051.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f28b97e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p051.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p052.png b/22109-page-images/p052.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9696723 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p052.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p053.png b/22109-page-images/p053.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e3ea5b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p053.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p054.png b/22109-page-images/p054.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a78e67f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p054.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p055.png b/22109-page-images/p055.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6245d8a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p055.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p056.png b/22109-page-images/p056.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..951160a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p056.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p057.png b/22109-page-images/p057.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6fac6f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p057.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p058.png b/22109-page-images/p058.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdf5019 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p058.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p059.png b/22109-page-images/p059.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e508de Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p059.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p060.png b/22109-page-images/p060.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80f8c63 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p060.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p061.png b/22109-page-images/p061.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac5de02 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p061.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p062.png b/22109-page-images/p062.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c3a531 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p062.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p063.png b/22109-page-images/p063.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b8508d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p063.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p064.png b/22109-page-images/p064.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4be3f1 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p064.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p065.png b/22109-page-images/p065.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f153c46 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p065.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p066.png b/22109-page-images/p066.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e5d45b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p066.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p067.png b/22109-page-images/p067.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e8cc67 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p067.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p068.png b/22109-page-images/p068.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6904283 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p068.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p069.png b/22109-page-images/p069.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a44b245 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p069.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p070.png b/22109-page-images/p070.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..814ab05 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p070.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p071.png b/22109-page-images/p071.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..654a907 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p071.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p072.png b/22109-page-images/p072.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32cef3a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p072.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p073.png b/22109-page-images/p073.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2bdb18 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p073.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p074.png b/22109-page-images/p074.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60b709a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p074.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p075.png b/22109-page-images/p075.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ab6b86 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p075.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p076.png b/22109-page-images/p076.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d00b9a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p076.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p077.png b/22109-page-images/p077.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8dec59 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p077.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p078.png b/22109-page-images/p078.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30ed11a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p078.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p079.png b/22109-page-images/p079.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad9cd2d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p079.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p080.png b/22109-page-images/p080.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..465c342 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p080.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p081.png b/22109-page-images/p081.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc456e8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p081.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p082.png b/22109-page-images/p082.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23c3ebb Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p082.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p083.png b/22109-page-images/p083.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81ec0c8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p083.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p084.png b/22109-page-images/p084.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d635f5 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p084.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p085.png b/22109-page-images/p085.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c16b254 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p085.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p086.png b/22109-page-images/p086.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb02898 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p086.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p087.png b/22109-page-images/p087.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1cab4a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p087.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p088.png b/22109-page-images/p088.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec66e63 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p088.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p089.png b/22109-page-images/p089.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f66650a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p089.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p090.png b/22109-page-images/p090.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b134d4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p090.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p091.png b/22109-page-images/p091.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6113569 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p091.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p092-insert.jpg b/22109-page-images/p092-insert.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f23eda Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p092-insert.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p092.png b/22109-page-images/p092.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27b5f36 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p092.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p093.png b/22109-page-images/p093.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..49308e0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p093.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p094.png b/22109-page-images/p094.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1f3b4d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p094.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p095.png b/22109-page-images/p095.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bba570b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p095.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p096.png b/22109-page-images/p096.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..529f950 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p096.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p097.png b/22109-page-images/p097.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..57d4267 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p097.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p098.png b/22109-page-images/p098.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c40dd4d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p098.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p099.png b/22109-page-images/p099.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..077779b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p099.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p100.png b/22109-page-images/p100.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5b638b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p100.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p101.png b/22109-page-images/p101.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdf1d66 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p101.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p102.png b/22109-page-images/p102.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e92f09 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p102.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p103.png b/22109-page-images/p103.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..baa6b7b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p103.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p104.png b/22109-page-images/p104.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..267b0e2 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p104.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p105.png b/22109-page-images/p105.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4be055 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p105.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p106.png b/22109-page-images/p106.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb2319e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p106.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p107.png b/22109-page-images/p107.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5b24e4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p107.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p108.png b/22109-page-images/p108.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..58d6be1 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p108.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p109.png b/22109-page-images/p109.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8387377 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p109.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p110.png b/22109-page-images/p110.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a431123 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p110.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p111.png b/22109-page-images/p111.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85a1abe Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p111.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p112.png b/22109-page-images/p112.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d779768 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p112.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p113.png b/22109-page-images/p113.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..db9e620 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p113.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p114.png b/22109-page-images/p114.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f9a4f8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p114.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p115.png b/22109-page-images/p115.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b70a556 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p115.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p116.png b/22109-page-images/p116.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac3882e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p116.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p117.png b/22109-page-images/p117.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab4da43 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p117.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p118.png b/22109-page-images/p118.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebe66d0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p118.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p119.png b/22109-page-images/p119.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d0e6fca Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p119.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p120.png b/22109-page-images/p120.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f399ff8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p120.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p121.png b/22109-page-images/p121.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5974fd4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p121.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p122.png b/22109-page-images/p122.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0abc17 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p122.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p123.png b/22109-page-images/p123.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6436308 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p123.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p124.png b/22109-page-images/p124.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf87dd5 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p124.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p125.png b/22109-page-images/p125.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9817b6d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p125.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p126.png b/22109-page-images/p126.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2dde45a Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p126.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p127.png b/22109-page-images/p127.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f093c4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p127.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p128.png b/22109-page-images/p128.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..125494d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p128.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p129.png b/22109-page-images/p129.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee5f0d6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p129.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p130.png b/22109-page-images/p130.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..46a1397 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p130.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p131.png b/22109-page-images/p131.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4262b63 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p131.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p132.png b/22109-page-images/p132.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d36ae53 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p132.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p133.png b/22109-page-images/p133.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a550249 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p133.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p134.png b/22109-page-images/p134.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa4fa8e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p134.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p135.png b/22109-page-images/p135.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7256ce Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p135.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p136.png b/22109-page-images/p136.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8d31fc Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p136.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p137.png b/22109-page-images/p137.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..972a20b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p137.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p138.png b/22109-page-images/p138.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8dedb5 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p138.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p139.png b/22109-page-images/p139.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4dfc47 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p139.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p140.png b/22109-page-images/p140.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f318e5b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p140.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p141.png b/22109-page-images/p141.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d1c217 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p141.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p142.png b/22109-page-images/p142.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e51fab6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p142.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p143.png b/22109-page-images/p143.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..619e841 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p143.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p144.png b/22109-page-images/p144.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f803a20 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p144.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p145.png b/22109-page-images/p145.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1393f06 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p145.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p146.png b/22109-page-images/p146.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d49284 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p146.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p147.png b/22109-page-images/p147.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..600f27e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p147.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p148.png b/22109-page-images/p148.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..670d38d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p148.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p149.png b/22109-page-images/p149.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..334a83c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p149.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p150.png b/22109-page-images/p150.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..548bc1c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p150.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p151.png b/22109-page-images/p151.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..444d591 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p151.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p152.png b/22109-page-images/p152.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e78205e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p152.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p153.png b/22109-page-images/p153.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e247b0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p153.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p154.png b/22109-page-images/p154.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0cf0a93 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p154.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p155.png b/22109-page-images/p155.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ffcf446 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p155.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p156.png b/22109-page-images/p156.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5276ddc Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p156.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p157.png b/22109-page-images/p157.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a09ba05 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p157.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p158.png b/22109-page-images/p158.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..462a4b8 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p158.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p159.png b/22109-page-images/p159.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d3c2af Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p159.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p160.png b/22109-page-images/p160.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a985333 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p160.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p161.png b/22109-page-images/p161.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aabd450 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p161.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p162.png b/22109-page-images/p162.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..957dc70 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p162.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p163.png b/22109-page-images/p163.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..48a86a0 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p163.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p164.png b/22109-page-images/p164.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e31311 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p164.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p165.png b/22109-page-images/p165.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7bcc9c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p165.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p166.png b/22109-page-images/p166.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18144af Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p166.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p167.png b/22109-page-images/p167.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..591e0af Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p167.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p168.png b/22109-page-images/p168.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..67e0cea Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p168.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p169.png b/22109-page-images/p169.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c2f931 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p169.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p170.png b/22109-page-images/p170.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6b43bc Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p170.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p171.png b/22109-page-images/p171.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..604f497 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p171.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p172.png b/22109-page-images/p172.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7866280 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p172.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p173.png b/22109-page-images/p173.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddf027b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p173.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p174.png b/22109-page-images/p174.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..082eb48 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p174.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p175.png b/22109-page-images/p175.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..345aa55 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p175.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p176.png b/22109-page-images/p176.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..db4376d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p176.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p177.png b/22109-page-images/p177.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e126692 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p177.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p178.png b/22109-page-images/p178.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e14816 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p178.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p179.png b/22109-page-images/p179.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..565d31e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p179.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p180.png b/22109-page-images/p180.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b110383 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p180.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p181.png b/22109-page-images/p181.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..daf2b60 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p181.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p182.png b/22109-page-images/p182.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25c0da6 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p182.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p183.png b/22109-page-images/p183.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..840fec2 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p183.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p184.png b/22109-page-images/p184.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ef465c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p184.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p185.png b/22109-page-images/p185.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f69a722 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p185.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p186.png b/22109-page-images/p186.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bebd939 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p186.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p187.png b/22109-page-images/p187.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee5dac2 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p187.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p188.png b/22109-page-images/p188.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d8e08f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p188.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p189.png b/22109-page-images/p189.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7a84fc Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p189.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p190.png b/22109-page-images/p190.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3723cf7 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p190.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p191.png b/22109-page-images/p191.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a6b606 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p191.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p192-insert.jpg b/22109-page-images/p192-insert.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..deff10b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p192-insert.jpg differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p192.png b/22109-page-images/p192.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e39452 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p192.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p193.png b/22109-page-images/p193.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2abf61 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p193.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p194.png b/22109-page-images/p194.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..874e1fb Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p194.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p195.png b/22109-page-images/p195.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f05f4ca Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p195.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p196.png b/22109-page-images/p196.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c02f72 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p196.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p197.png b/22109-page-images/p197.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8308c1 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p197.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p198.png b/22109-page-images/p198.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b182a26 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p198.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p199.png b/22109-page-images/p199.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c4691f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p199.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p200.png b/22109-page-images/p200.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3303b15 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p200.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p201.png b/22109-page-images/p201.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64b312f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p201.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p202.png b/22109-page-images/p202.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cd67ff Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p202.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p203.png b/22109-page-images/p203.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..67675e4 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p203.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p204.png b/22109-page-images/p204.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..da676df Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p204.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p205.png b/22109-page-images/p205.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..89215fd Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p205.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p206.png b/22109-page-images/p206.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a48bf19 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p206.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p207.png b/22109-page-images/p207.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91b607e Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p207.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p208.png b/22109-page-images/p208.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12fc67c Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p208.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p209.png b/22109-page-images/p209.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5a1b2d Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p209.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p210.png b/22109-page-images/p210.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1602d56 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p210.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p211.png b/22109-page-images/p211.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e96c8a9 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p211.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p212.png b/22109-page-images/p212.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8510f4b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p212.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p213.png b/22109-page-images/p213.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..70c0944 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p213.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p214.png b/22109-page-images/p214.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..58da3f1 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p214.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p215.png b/22109-page-images/p215.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b22724 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p215.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p216.png b/22109-page-images/p216.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..627dd8f Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p216.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p217.png b/22109-page-images/p217.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a68343 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p217.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p218.png b/22109-page-images/p218.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..73a3b62 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p218.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p219.png b/22109-page-images/p219.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c19da71 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p219.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p220.png b/22109-page-images/p220.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d3ef5b Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p220.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p221.png b/22109-page-images/p221.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ec0e44 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p221.png differ diff --git a/22109-page-images/p222.png b/22109-page-images/p222.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..93da828 Binary files /dev/null and b/22109-page-images/p222.png differ diff --git a/22109.txt b/22109.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a2b356 --- /dev/null +++ b/22109.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4515 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard + +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: The Black Wolf Pack + +Author: Dan Beard + +Release Date: July 19, 2007 [EBook #22109] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + THE + BLACK WOLF PACK + + BY + + DAN BEARD + + NATIONAL SCOUT COMMISSIONER, B.S.A. + + + ILLUSTRATED + + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + NEW YORK + + + +[Illustration: It was a shadowy figure yet it moved] + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY BOYS' LIFE + +Printed in the United States of America + +_All rights reserved. No part of this book +may be reproduced in any form without +the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons_ + + + + DEDICATED TO + + BELMORE AND FRED + (BELMORE BROWNE) (FREDERICK K. VREELAND) + + NO BETTER WILDERNESS MEN EVER + WORE MOCCASINS + + + + +PREFACE + + +After numerous visits to a number of remote and unfrequented places in +the Rocky Mountains, from Wyoming to Alberta, the writer was deeply +impressed with the awesome mystery of the wilderness and the weird +legends he heard around the camp fires, while the bigness of the things +he saw was photographed on his brain so distinctly and permanently as to +act as a compelling force causing him, aye, almost forcing him to write +about it. + +When the spell came upon him, like the Ancient Mariner, he needs must +tell the story, and thus the tale of the Black Wolf Pack was written +with no thought, at the time, of publishing the narrative, but primarily +for the real enjoyment the author derived from writing it, and also for +the entertainment of the author's family and intimate friends. + +The tale, however, pleased the members of the Editorial Board of the Boy +Scouts of America, and Mr. Franklin K. Mathiews, Chief Scout Librarian, +asked permission to have it edited for the Scout Magazine, which request +was cheerfully granted. + +The author hereby freely and cheerfully acknowledges the useful changes +and practical suggestions injected into the story by his friend and +associate, Mr. Irving Crump, Editor of Boys' Life, in which magazine the +Black Wolf Pack, in somewhat abbreviated form, first appeared. + +DAN BEARD. + +Flushing, +June 1st, 1922. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +It was a shadowy figure yet it moved _Frontispiece_ + FACING PAGE +The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt +... and struck the bull 36 + +More than once while I clung to the chance projection +... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt 92 + +"I think the name 'Pluto' fits his character to a +nicety" 192 + + + + +The Black Wolf Pack + +CHAPTER I + + +It was a terrible shock to me (said the Scoutmaster as he fingered a +beaded buckskin bag). Old Blink Broosmore was responsible. It was a +malicious thing for him to do. He meant it to be mean, too,--wanted to +hurt me,--to wound my feelings and make me ashamed. And all because he +nursed a grudge against dad--I mean Mr. Crawford. + +It started because of that defective spark-plug in the engine of the +roadster. Strange what a tiny thing such as a crack in a porcelain +jacket around an old spark-plug can do in the way of changing the course +of a fellow's whole life. + +My last period in the afternoon at high school was a study period and I +cut it because I had several things to do down town. I hurried home and +took the roadster, and on my way out mother--I mean Mrs. Crawford--gave +me an armful of books to return to the library and a list of errands she +wanted me to do. While motoring down town I noticed that one cylinder +was missing occasionally and I told myself I would change that +spark-plug as soon as I got home. + +I made all the stops I had planned and even drove around to the church +because I wanted to look in at the parish house where some of my scouts +(I was the assistant scoutmaster of Troop 6, of Marlborough) were +putting up decorations for the very first Fathers and Sons dinner ever +given which we were to have on Washington's birthday. That was in 1911. + +As I was leaving I looked at my new wrist watch and discovered that it +was a quarter of five. + +"Just in time to catch dad and drive him home from the office," I said +to myself, for I knew that he left the office of his big paper-mill +down at the docks at five o'clock. + +I jumped into the car and bowled along down Spring Street and the Front +Street hill and arrived at the mill office at exactly five. Dad wasn't +in sight so I decided to turn around and wait for him at the curb. That +is how the trouble started. I got part way around on the hill when that +cylinder began missing a lot and next thing I knew the motor stalled and +there was I with my car crosswise on the hill, blocking traffic--and +traffic is heavy on Front Street hill about five o'clock, because all +the mills are rushing their trucks down to the piers with the last loads +of merchandise before the down-river boats leave, at six o'clock. + +In about two minutes I was holding up a line of trucks a block long and +those drivers were saying a lot of things that were not very +complimentary to me and not printed in Sunday-school papers. And old +Blink Broosmore was right up at the head of the line with a truck load +of cases from the box factory and the look on his face was about as ugly +as a mud turtle's. Then, to make matters worse, my starter wouldn't work +at the critical moment, and I had to get out to crank the engine. What a +howl of indignation went up from those stalled truck drivers! I felt +like a bad two-cent piece in a drawer full of five-dollar gold pieces. +Guess my face was red behind my ears. + +And then old Blink made the unkindest remark of all--no, he didn't make +it to me; he just yelled it out to a couple of other truck-drivers. + +"That's what happens with these make-believe dudes," he shouted. "That's +the kid old Skin Flint Crawford took out of an orphan asylum. He's a kid +that old Crawford took up with because he was too mean t' have t' Lord +bless him with one o' his own. That's straight, fellers. I was +Crawford's gardener when it happened an'--" + +Old Blink stopped and got red and then white, and I could see the other +truck men looking uncomfortable. I looked up and there was Dad Crawford +on the curb boring holes into Blink with those cold gray eyes of his and +looking as white as marble. No one said a word. It seemed as if the +whole street became hushed and silent. I got the car around to the curb +somehow and dad got in and the line of trucks trundled by with every +driver looking straight ahead and some of them grinning nervously and +apparently feeling mighty uncomfortable. + +But that wasn't a patch to the way I felt, and I could see by the lack +of color and set expression of dad's face and the way he stared straight +ahead of him without saying a word that he was feeling very unhappy +about it too. There was something behind it all--something that raised +in my mind vague doubts and very unpleasant thoughts. + +Dad never spoke a word all the way home, and, needless to say, I did not +either--I couldn't; my whole world seemed to have been turned upside +down in the space of half an hour. Was it true that I was not Donald +Crawford? Was it possible that Alexander Crawford, this fine, big, +broad-shouldered, kindly man beside me was not my real father? Was it a +fact that that noble, generous, happy woman whom I called mamma was not +my mother at all? Each of those questions took shape in my mind and each +was like a stab in the heart, for Blink Broosmore had answered them all, +and Alexander Crawford, though he must know how anxious I was to have +Blink denied, did not speak to refute him. + +We rolled up the drive and dad stepped out, still silent, but he did +smile wistfully at me as he closed the car door. + +"Put it away, Don, and hurry in for dinner," he said and I felt certain +I detected a break in his voice. I felt sorry--sorry for him and sorry +for myself, and as I put the car in the garage, I had a hard time trying +to see things clearly; my eyes would get blurred and a lump would get +into my throat in spite of me. + +As I dressed for dinner I felt half dazed. I hardly realized what I was +doing, and I had to stop and pull myself together before I started +downstairs to the dining room, for I knew if I did not have myself well +in hand I would blubber like a big chump. + +Mother and dad were waiting for me and I could see by mother's sad +expression and the troubled look in her eyes that dad had told her of +the whole occurrence. And that only added to my unhappiness because I +felt for a certainty that all that Blink Broosmore had shouted must be +true. + +For the first time in my memory dad forgot to say grace, and none of us +ate with any apparent relish and none of us tried to make conversation. +It was a painful sort of a meal and I wanted to have it over with as +soon as I could. It seemed hours before Nora cleared the table and +served dad's demi-tasse. + +I guess I then looked him full in the eyes for the first time since the +occurrence on Front Street. + +"That was a very unkind thing for Blink Broosmore to do," said dad, and +I knew by the firmness and evenness of his voice that he had gained full +control of his feelings. + +"Is--is--oh, did he tell the truth, dad?" I gulped helplessly and for +the life of me I could not keep back the tears. + +"Unfortunately, Donald, there is just enough truth in it to make it +hurt," said dad and I could see mother wince as if she had been struck, +and turn away her face. + +"They why--why? Oh! who am I?" I cried, for the whole thing had +completely unnerved me. + +"Don dear, we do not know to a certainty," said mother struggling with +her emotions. + +"But now that you are partly aware of the situation, I think there is a +way you can find out, at least as much as we know," said dad, getting up +and going into the library. + +Through the doorway I could see him fumbling at the safe that he kept +there beside the desk. Presently he drew out a battered and dented red +tin box and a bundle of papers. These he brought into the dining room +and laid on the table. Then he drew up a chair, cleared his throat, +rather loudly it seemed to me, and began. + +"Don, we always wanted a child, and why the Lord never blessed us with +one of our own we do not know. Anyway, we wanted one so badly that we +decided to adopt one. That was seventeen years ago, wasn't it, mother?" + +Mother nodded. + +"Doctor Raymond, the physician at the county institution, knew our +desires and, being an old friend of the family, he volunteered to find +us a good healthy baby that we could adopt and call our own. Not a week +later you appeared on the scene. Dr. Raymond told us that a wagon drawn +by a raw-boned horse, and loaded with household goods, drew up to the +orphanage and a tired and worn-out looking old lady got out with a lusty +year old child in one arm and this box and these papers under the +other. + +"At the office of the asylum she explained how she and her husband were +moving from a Connecticut town to a little farm they had bought in +Pennsylvania. Somewhere at a crossroad near Derby, Connecticut, they had +found the baby and this box and bundle of papers in a basket under a +bush with a card attached to the basket requesting that the finder adopt +and take care of the baby. + +"Of course, they could not pass the infant by, but the woman explained +that they were too poor and too old to adopt the child so they had gone +miles out of their way to find an orphanage and leave the baby there, +along with the box and papers. + +"When Dr. Raymond heard the story and saw you, for you were the baby, he +got me on the telephone and told me all about you. And that night he +brought you here, and you were such a chubby, bright, interesting little +fellow that mother and I fell in love with you immediately and decided +to adopt you, which we did according to law. So you are our legal +child, Don, and all that, although we are not your real parents." + +Somehow that made me feel a little happier. Dad and mother did have a +claim on me at least. That was something. + +"It was not until after Dr. Raymond had left," went on father, "that +mother and I examined the box and papers that had come with you. Here +they are." + +Dad took up a worn and age-yellowed envelope addressed in a bold hand: + + To the Finder + +Inside was the following brief message: + + TO THE FINDER:-- + + The mother of this child, Donald Mullen, is dead. I, his father, + cannot give him the care he should have. Will you, the finder, + adopt him, care for him, and bring him up to be an honest, + trustworthy man, and win the eternal gratitude of his dead + mother and + + DONALD MULLEN, + his father. + +"Then my name is--or was Mullen," I exclaimed. + +"According to that," said dad softly, "but when you became our son we +kept your first name and discarded the family name of course." + +"But--but what has become of my father, Donald Mullen?" I asked. + +"My boy, we have tried both for your sake and for our own to find out. +We have followed up and searched every possible clue and--but wait, here +are other papers of interest and after you have read them I will tell +you all we have done to locate your real father and afterwards we will +talk the whole situation over." As dad was speaking he passed over the +battered tin box. On the lid was inscribed the simple lines-- + + The contents of this box belong to the boy. If you are honest + you will see that it comes into his hands at the proper time. If + you are dishonest, then God help the boy and God help you! + + D. MULLEN. + +It was some time before I could make up my mind to force the lid. When I +did the first thing that my eyes fell upon was this buckskin bag of +unmistakable Indian design, beautifully decorated with bead work and +highly colored porcupine quills cunningly worked into a good luck +design. As I picked up the bag I saw that it was sealed with wax and to +it was attached a card on which was penned: + + To my son:-- + + Here is all the wealth I possess. It isn't much. The bag with + its contents was sent to me by my brother, Fay, who is out in + the Rockies. He gave it to me to pay my expenses out there to + join him. I am leaving it for you. It may help you over some + rocky places if it ever gets into your hands, and I trust the + good Lord that it does. + + Lovingly, + YOUR FATHER. + +The bag gave forth the unmistakable clink of gold coins as I dropped it +on the table. + +That message from my father, whom I had never seen, made my heart heavy +and again that lump gathered in my throat, for I could feel the +heartaches that the writing of that note must have caused him. I had not +the courage to break the seal of the bag and examine its contents. I +pushed it aside and took from the box another time-yellowed envelope +addressed to + + MY SON DONALD + +Inside I found the following: + + Dear Boy:-- + + I cannot determine whether I am giving you a mean deal or + whether this is all for your good. Your mother, Barbara Parker + Mullen, is dead, God bless her! She has been dead now six + months. It seems to me like eternity. I have tried to take care + of you as she would have cared for you but I am afraid I have + lost heart, and my courage, and I am afraid my faith has slipped + from me. I fear that I am a broken-spirited failure. The passing + of your mother has taken everything from me. I am no longer fit + or able to care for you and I must pass you on to someone else + and trust your welfare to God. For neither your mother nor I + have any relatives left who are able to take care of you. + + What will become of you I cannot guess. I can only hope for the + best. But by the time you are old enough to read and understand + this message you will, I hope, have forgiven me or praised me + for my effort to find you a home. + + What will become of me I do not know. I have one brother left in + the world, Fay Mullen, and he is out in Piute Pass in the + Rockies grubbing for gold. I am going out to join him for I know + the only way I can forget my grief and get hold of myself once + more is to bury myself in the wilderness. + + Fay has sent me a bag of double eagles to pay my expenses west. + That is all the money I have in the world. I am not going to use + it. I will work my way west and leave the gold for you. It is + the least and probably the last that I can do for you. + + If, when you read this you have any desires to know who you + really are, I will leave you the following information: + + Your mother, a wonderful woman, was Barbara Parker of + Litchfield, Connecticut, daughter of Judge Arnold Parker of + Litchfield, now deceased. I am Donald Mullen, the eldest of + three brothers; Fay Mullen is the next of age and Patrick + Mullen, the gunsmith of Maiden Lane, New York, is the youngest. + We were born in Byron Bridge, Ireland, and we three came to this + country after our parents died. You come of an honest, + worthwhile people on my side, and of the best American blood on + your mother's, Donald, and I ask only that you live an honest, + honorable life and have faith in your country and your God, and + He will be with you to the end. + + Good-bye, boy. + + Lovingly, + YOUR FATHER. + +I read the letter aloud but I confess that my voice broke toward the end +and I choked up until reading was difficult. + +For some time after I finished, we three sat in silence. The thoughts +and mental pictures of that broken man parting with his baby son +seventeen years before made me most unhappy. + +Dad broke the silence. + +"Well, now you are acquainted with the whole situation, what do you +think?" + +"I scarcely know what to think," said I. "It does not appear natural for +a man to abandon his own son in the manner he did. It seems heartless +and cruel. I cannot understand it; yet I wish I could see my poor +father. I wonder if he is still alive. Certainly with the information at +hand it should not be impossible for me to trace him or some relatives +of my mother. Don't you think so?" + +"That is what I thought, Don, for when you were three years old I began +to wonder about your father's whereabouts. I wanted to meet him and +perhaps help him if I could. Do not think that your poor father was +cruel, for it is evident that the man was suffering from a nervous +breakdown and consequently more or less irresponsible; I think he acted +wonderfully well under the circumstances. In order to help him I began a +search and for ten years I have had detectives and private individuals +following up every possible lead. Yet, with all my efforts, the search +has amounted to nothing. Your father's trail ended at a Spokane +outfitting store. I could not locate anyone nearer to you than an old +maiden great-aunt of your mother's although I have had every clue +investigated. + +"The only relative of your father's that I could get any information +about was his youngest brother, Patrick Mullen, your uncle and a famous +gunsmith of Maiden Lane, New York. He is dead now but his reputation for +making an exceptionally fine hand-forged gun lives on even to-day. +Patrick Mullen died just before I began my search for your father, but +in digging around for facts about him, I learned that he had made a +limited number of very fine guns, on each of which he had stamped his +full name, 'Patrick Mullen.' Other guns of an inferior quality that he +made bore the simple stamp of 'P. Mullen.' The old man was very proud of +each 'Patrick Mullen' that he turned out and like the true artist that +he was he kept track of each one, sold them only to men he knew and when +the owner died he bought the gun back himself so that he always knew its +whereabouts. + +"In that way all of the 101 'Patrick Mullen's' he made came back to him, +save one. There is one of the complete number still missing and no one +seems to know where it is. This is more remarkable because the missing +gun is a flint-lock rifle of the style of seventy years ago. That gun +has always struck me as being a valuable clue in our search, because it +is the only rifle ever made by the old gunsmith and I have a feeling +that that missing 'Patrick Mullen' may have been given to your father by +the brother, and that may account for the fact that among the papers of +Patrick Mullen there is no record of its whereabouts; this is in a +measure confirmed by the report that the man outfitting at Spokane had a +long old-fashioned rifle, and collectors say there used to be an expert +in antique arms by the name of Mullen." + +The suggestion made me tremendously excited. Beyond a doubt in my mind +that missing "Patrick Mullen" was my father's gun. I imagined him +parting with everything else save the unique gun his famous brother had +made for him. Why he should wish for a flint-lock rifle was an +unanswerable question, but someone wanted that sort of a gun or it would +not have been made, and my father's letters showed him to be a man of +sentiment, and impractical, just the sort of fellow to use a flint-lock +when he might just as well have had a modern breech-loading high-power +rifle. + +"I believe you've hit it, dad. Hot dog!" I exclaimed. "Bet a cookie that +that gun does belong to my father and if we can find it we will probably +find him too--would not that be bully?" + +"I feel the same way too, Don. But finding that missing gun will be as +difficult as finding your father. I have searched the country over for +it and made a wonderful collection of flint-lock guns, as you see by +looking at yonder gun-rack; I have had dozens of arms collectors and +detectives looking for guns of that description, but no Patrick Mullen +rifle has turned up anywhere. There have, of course, been many false +clues and many queer rifles offered to me and I have put a great many +thousands of dollars into the search, and my collection of flint-locks +is the best in the land, Don. But so far nothing but failures seem to +have rewarded my search--no, I'm wrong, there is one man out west--out +in the little jerk-water town of Grave Stone, who insists that there is +a wild man living in a lonely, almost inaccessible valley in the +mountains, who shoots a gun which looks like the one for which I am +searching. For a number of years this man of mystery, it seems, has been +appearing and reappearing, according to Big Pete Darlinkel, my +informant, but even Pete has never got in personal touch with this +eccentric hermit. Neither have several detectives I have sent out there +for that purpose. The detectives seem to be all right in towns or cities +and are undoubtedly brave men, but something out there appears to +frighten them and they lose interest the moment they cut the trail of +the wild hunter. I begin to think this wild man is a myth, too. +Strange, though, that just a week ago I received another letter from +Pete Darlinkel. Wait, I'll find it." + +He returned from the library presently with a letter which he opened and +passed over to me. It read: + + DEAR MR. CRAWFORD:-- + + Maybe you hain't interested no more but thet tha' ole Dopped + ganger, the Wild Hunter, the spooky old critter, has been seen + agin. i wuz on the top of the painted Butte yesterday squinten + one i in the valley look'n for elk and look'n up with tother i + for Big horn on the mountain, when i staged the old duffer + snoop'en along in one of the parks an' he had the same long hair + and long rifle he uster have. He sure is a ghost or else he's a + nut or an old timer gone locoed. He sends the chills down my + backbone every time i sots my eyes on him. + + Your obedients sarvent, + BIG PETE. + +There was something about that crude letter that stirred me deeply. + +Could this strange freak that Big Pete saw from the top of the painted +Butte possess that Patrick Mullen rifle? If so did he know anything +about the whereabouts of my father? It is not uncommon for people +suffering from a mental breakdown to flee to the country or wilderness +and there live the life of a recluse, and from my father's last letter +it was evident that he had had a nervous breakdown from anxiety and +brooding over the loss of my mother, to whom he evidently was devotedly +attached. It might, therefore, be possible that this strange, wild man +himself was my father, an unpleasant possibility. At any rate, I felt +that I could not rest, at least until I discovered to a certainty the +name of the maker of the long rifle said to be carried by the wild +hunter and I told dad just how I felt about it. + +"I knew you would feel that way, son," said he. "I have often wanted to +go west for the very same purpose and I knew that when I told you +everything you would want to go too. I intended to lay all the facts +before you when you were twenty-one but now that Blink Broosmore has +taken it upon himself to inform you and his truck-driving friends of the +mystery surrounding your real parentage, I guess it is best you know all +there is to be known about the situation. The rest I'll leave to you. In +fact, it would please me a great deal if you would run down this last +vague clue to see if your father really is still alive. Go, Donald, and +God bless you, and take that bag of gold with you, unopened, for it may +now stand your father in good stead, and if you do find him, bring him +here and I promise you he will never want for a thing, nor will you, my +son, for you are still my boy whatever your real parentage may be." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The stage pulled up in front of a typical western saloon, post office +and general store. There was the usual crowd of prospectors, gamblers, +cow punchers and trappers assembled to meet the incoming stage. When I +scrambled off the top of the old-fashioned coach, and before I had time +to shake the alkali dust from my clothes, or moisten my dry and cracked +lips, a typical western bully approached me roaring the verses of a song +with which he evidently intended to terrify me, + + "He blowed into Lanigan swinging a gun + A new one, + A blue one, + A colt's forty-one, + An' swearing + Declaring + Red Rivers 'ud run + Down Alkali Valley, + An' oceans of gore + 'ud wash sudden death + On the sage brush shore, + An' he shot a big hole--" + +He got no further with the song. Another man stepped out from the crowd, +a very tall, powerful man who would have attracted attention in any garb +in any place by his distinguished appearance, who with little ceremony +rudely brushed the roughneck to one side, and my instinct told me the +handsome stranger could be no other than Big Pete Darlinkel. + +My! my! what a man he was! Looked as if he just stepped out of one of +Fred Remington's pictures, or Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, or slipped +from between the leaves of a volume of Captain Mayne Reid's "Scalp +Hunters"--Big Pete was evidently a hold-over from another age. He would +have fitted perfectly and with nicety in a picture of Davy Crockett's +men down in old Texas. He seemed, however, perfectly at home in this +border town, and I noted that the most hard-boiled and toughest men in +the crowd treated him with marked respect and deference. + +Pete was a wilderness fop and a dandy, and evidently was as careful of +his clothes as a West Point cadet. In dress he affected the +old-fashioned picturesque garb of the mountains. His appearance filled +me with wonder and admiration; he stood six feet two or three inches in +his moccasins, straight as an arrow and lithe as a cat. + +His costume consisted of a tunic of dressed deer skin, smoked to the +softness of the finest flannels. He wore it belted in at the waist, but +open at the breast and throat where it fell back like a sailor's collar +into a short cape covering the shoulders. Underneath was the undershirt +of dressed fawn skin; his leggins and moccasins were of the same +material as his hunting shirt, and on his head he wore a fox skin cap; +the fox's head adorned with glass eyes ornamented the front and the tail +hung like a drooping plume over the left shoulder. + +Big Pete Darlinkel was a blonde, and his golden hair hung in sunny curls +upon his massive shoulders; a light mustache, soft yellow beard, with a +pair of the deepest, clearest, most innocent baby-like blue eyes, all +made a face such as an angel might have after years of exposure to sun +and wind. + +Not only are Big Pete's revolvers gold mounted, but the shaft of his +keen-edged knife is rich with figures, rings, and stars filed from gold +coins and set in the horn. The very stock of his long, single-barreled +rifle is inlaid like an Arab's gun, and, as for his buckskin hunting +suit, it is a mass of embroidery and colored quills from his beaded +moccasins to the fringed cape of his shirt. + +Big Pete was a dandy, fond of color, fond of display; yet in spite of +all this he wore absolutely nothing for decoration alone, but every +article of use about his person was ornamented to an oriental degree. +Gaudy and rich as his costume was when viewed in detail, as a whole it +harmonized not only with Pete, his hair, his complexion, his weapons, +but with whatever natural objects surrounded him. + +Big Pete also seemed to know me instinctively and approached with a +graceful and swinging step; holding out his hand he greeted me in a low, +soft, well-modulated voice with, "Howdy, kid; yes, I'm Big Pete and +allow you are the tenderfoot dude from New York what wants to shoot big +game, an' reckon you'd like to meet the wild mountain man? Well, he's a +queer one, I tell you. He's got us all buffaloed out this-a-way, most of +us don't care to meet him close up and we give him wide range when we +cut his trail." + +That was Big Pete's greeting. Of course, I had not told him of my real +interest in this mysterious man of the mountains, only suggesting that I +would like to do some big game shooting and see the spooky hunter. + +"Well," I answered, "I would like to get a record elk head to take home +to dad. As for the mountain wildman, I wish you'd tell me more about +him, he is awfully interesting." + +"Tell you more? Well, sho, I reckon I can tell you more than most people +round these parts for he makes my game park his stampin' grounds every +onct in a while, an' let me tell you he hunts some peculiar, he do, he's +half man and half wolf--but shucks, I won't spoil the show, you will see +how he hunts for yourself if you stay here long. Glory be, but he's got +me some bashful and shy. But mosey along and I'll hist yore stuff on +this here cayuse while you let them tha' dogs out of their chicken coop +boxes. You can cache your dude duds in the Emporium general store over +yonder next to Squinty Quinn's saloon, an' then we're off for the hills. +I'll yarn about this Wild Hunter while we hit the trail." + +An hour spent in Grave Stone gave me an opportunity to wash myself and +change my clothes for some that would be more substantial for +out-of-door wear, start several letters east telling of my safe arrival, +buy the things I had overlooked, store my surplus clothes with the +postmaster at the general store, and repack my kit for pony travel. +Then, after watching Big Pete skilfully throw the diamond hitch, we were +off for the hills and our first camp. I hoped that I was on my way to +find my real father and unravel the mystery that surrounded my strange +babyhood. But I little guessed what adventures I was to have or the +strange things I was to see before my quest was ended. + +We traveled fast all the remaining portion of the afternoon and toward +evening we made camp and for the first time in my life I slept under the +sky. At the end of the fifth day we reached the secret and narrow +opening of a big valley or "park" in the midst of a wild tumble of +mountains. Big Pete said we would pitch our tent in the park. + +"Tha's plenty of signs 'round too an' if we loosen t' dogs p'raps we kin +stir up a mountain lion or collar some fresh meat t' start camp with," +said he as he slid off his horse and took the leashes off the dogs. + +It took us but a short time to arrange our camp, then Big Pete followed +by the frisking dogs slipped silently into the woods. He was gone +scarcely a quarter of an hour when he reappeared again without the dogs, +motioned for me to get my gun and follow him. + +"Tha's elk signs all bout," he said, "an' the muts broke away on a fresh +trail. Now you an' me'll climb through that draw yonder and hide out on +the runway till they drive an elk in gun shot. Come along." + +I followed eagerly and presently we had climbed through a thickly grown +poplar grove and found a suitable hiding place among the small poplars. +We had the wind right and a clear view of most of the open park. Big +Pete stooped down and motioned for me to do likewise. + +I quietly crouched beside him and waited--waited until my legs were +cramped, waited until the dampness from the moss struck through the +heavy soles of my tenderfoot shoes and chilled my feet; waited until my +arm was so numb that it felt like a piece of lead--then, in spite of the +danger of incurring Big Pete's displeasure and in spite of my dread of +being thought a dude tenderfoot, I changed my position, rubbed life into +my arm and assumed an easier pose. + +In front of us was a small lake, deep, dark and unruffled. All around +the edge was a natural wharf formed from the gigantic trunks of trees +which had fallen for ages into the lake and been washed by wind and +waves and forced by winter ice into such regular order and position +along the shore that their arrangement looked like the work of men. Back +of this wharf and all about was the wilderness of silent wood; a +wilderness enclosed by a wall of mountains, whose lofty heads were +uplifted far above the soft white clouds that floated in the blue sky +overhead and were mirrored in the lake below. An eagle, on apparently +immovable wings, soared over the lake in spiral course. As I watched the +bird its wings seemed suddenly endowed with life. At the same instant my +guide gave a low grunt of warning. + +"What is it?" I asked in a whisper, for there was a strange expression +in my companion's eyes. + +"It's--it's him, so help me!--Keep yer ears open and yer meat-trap +shut!" growled Pete. + +I did so. The trained ear of the hunter had detected the sound of +crackling twigs and swishing branches made by some animals in rapid +motion. + +"Ah!" I exclaimed, "the dogs. You startled me; I thought it was +Indians." + +"I wish it was nothing wuss," muttered my guide, as he examined his +weapons with a critical eye and loosened the cartridges for his +revolvers in his belt to make sure that they would be easy to pluck out. + +"Those hain't our dogs, mister," he remarked after he had examined his +whole arsenal. + +As I again fixed my attention on the noise, in place of the resonant +voice of the hounds, I heard nothing but the crackling of branches, with +an occasional half-suppressed wolf-like yelp. + +Big Pete turned pale and muttered, "It's them for sartin; it's them +agin! And I hain't been drinkin', nuther!" + +Big Pete Darlinkel remained crouching in exactly the same pose he had +first assumed, but his face looked sallow and worn. I marveled. Was this +big westerner really awed by the situation we were facing? What disaster +impended? + +My guide's eyes were fixed upon an opening in the woods and I knew that +something would soon bound from that spot. I could hear the crashing of +brush and half-suppressed wolf-like yelps, followed by a pause, then a +rushing noise, and out leaped as beautiful a bull elk as I had ever +seen--in fact the first I had ever seen at close range in his native +wilderness. I had only time to take note of his muscular neck, clean cut +limbs, his grand branching antlers, and--not my dogs but a pack of +_immense black wolves_ at his heels before I instinctively brought my +gun to my shoulder. But before I could draw a bead Big Pete struck it, +knocking the muzzle up. + +"Hist!" he exclaimed, pointing to the bird. + +The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt and skilfully avoiding +the branching antlers, struck the bull, driving one talon into the neck +and the other into the back, flapping its huge wings as it tore with its +beak at the body of the elk like a trained "_bear coote_." + +I was thunderstruck. The evident partnership of the wolves and bird +needed explanation and it was not long in coming. A shrill whistle +pierced the air, the black wolves immediately ceased to worry the elk, +the eagle soared overhead, and for an instant the elk stood confused, +then leaped high in the air and fell dead. The next moment I heard the +crack of a rifle and saw a puff of blue smoke across the lake. + +"That's no ghost," I said, when partly recovered from my astonishment. + +"Wait," said Pete laconically. + +[Illustration: The eagle screamed, descended like a thunderbolt ... and +struck the bull] + +Not long afterward there was a movement among the wolves and, +noiselessly as a panther the figure of a man lithe and youthful in every +movement slipped to the side of the dead elk. He made no noise, uttered +no word to the fierce black animals that sat with their red tongues +hanging from their panting jaws, but without a moment's hesitation +whipped out a knife and with a dexterity and skill that brought the +color to Big Pete's face, proceeded to take the coat off the wapiti, +while the great eagle perched upon the branching antlers. The skin was +removed and with equal dexterity all the best parts of the meat were +skilfully detached and packed in the green hide, after which, removing a +large slice of red flesh, the strange hunter held up one finger. One of +the wolves gravely walked up to him, received the morsel, gulped it down +and retired. Each in turn was fed, then the great bird flopped on his +shoulder and was fed from his hand, and before I could realize what had +happened the man, the wolves and the eagle had disappeared, leaving +nothing but the dismembered carcass of the elk to remind us of the +strange episode. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +To say that the whole spectacle that I had just witnessed startled me +would be stating it mildly indeed. The strange appearance of this big, +powerful, smooth shaven man in a buckskin hunting costume with a retinue +of black wolves and a trained eagle, the mysterious manner of his +hunting and his coming and going, aroused in me great interest and +curiosity and I could realize the effect it evidently had upon Big +Pete's superstitious mind in spite of the fact that the big fellow was +accustomed to facing almost any sort of danger. As for me, I could not +myself prevent the creeping chills from running down my spine whenever I +thought of the wild man. + +Could it be possible that this strange, half-wild man of the mountains, +this killer, this master of a wolf pack, could be in any way connected +with my father? I wondered, and as I wondered I found that a vague fear +of this mad man who despite his reputed age seemed as youthful and as +agile as a man in his thirties, was gripping me. Perhaps the strangeness +of the wilderness park added to my awe, for certainly one could expect +almost anything supernatural to happen in the twilight of the forest of +giant trees, whose interlacing branches overhead shut out the light of +heaven. + +Recovering somewhat from my astonishment and surprise, I realized that +what I had witnessed, strange though it appeared, was not a supernatural +occurrence. I knew that it was a real gun I had heard, real smoke I had +seen, real man, real bird, real elk, and real wolves. + +"But, Pete," I exclaimed, as a sudden thought struck me, "what's become +of our dogs?" + +"Better ask them black fiends up the mountains. I reckon you won't see +them tha' hounds of yours agin." + +And I never did, but having hunted the wolf with cowboys and having been +a witness to their extraordinary biting power, I knew the fate that must +necessarily befall a couple of ordinary hounds when overtaken by half a +dozen full-grown wolves. On such occasions we do not spend much time in +grief over a loss of any kind, "it taint according to mountain law," +Pete would say. + +"Reckon we had better swipe some of that elk before the coyotes get at +it," growled Pete. "The wild mountainman knows the good parts, but an +elk is an elk, and one wild man, even if he is a giant, can't carry off +all the good meat, not by a long shot." + +"He may come back," I suggested. + +"Not he," said Pete. "He's too stuck up for that. When he wants more, +them tha' black demons and that voodoo bird of his'n will get 'em for +him, and he's a hanging his long legs off'ner a rock some whar smoking a +long cigar." + +"Dod rot him," growled Pete. "Why couldn't he leave a piece of hide to +carry the meat in and the stomach to cook it in? That's the fust time I +ever stayed long 'nough to see him collar his meat, though they say he +do eat the game raw, but I reckon that's a lie, leastwise he didn't do't +this time." + +With a good square meal of the locoed hunter's elk under our belts and a +rousing camp fire before which to toast our shins, both the big +westerner and I felt a little more natural and comfortable, but our +conversation turned again to this wild hunter of the mountains. + +I could see that the mysterious old man with his wolf pack and eagle +aroused almost every possible form of superstition in Big Pete and I +confess that I was not free from some of it myself. The guide was +certain that the man was either a ghost or a reincarnated devil, and he +displayed no uncertain signs of awe. + +"I tell you," said Pete, "he's a devil. He's over a hundred years old, +for my dad says he seed him, an' an Injun before dad's time told him +about him. They are all skeered t' death o' him. An' I don't blame 'em. +He's a shore enough hant and them tha' houn's o' his'n is devils in wolf +skins. Jumping Gehoosaphats, ef they shed ever cut my trail I reckon I'd +just lay right down an' die," and Big Pete actually shuddered at the +possibility. + +"Why, young feller," he went on, "that ol' man shoots gold bullets out +o' a real Patrick Mullen gun." + +"A Mullen gun, Pete?" I cried, "how do you know, man; speak for goodness +sake!" + +"I don't know it's a Patrick Mullen and guess it tain't one 'cause a +Patrick Mullen rifle would cost a thousand or more. But the old Injun, +Beaver Tail, says, someone told his father and his father told him that +et is a Patrick Mullen gun an' is a special make inlaid with gold and +silver, an' all ornamented up, an' built for an ol' muzzle-loadin' +flint-lock. Now Mullen never made no flint-lock rifles that I hear'n +tell of, his specialty be shotguns an' if he made this rifle I'm +ganderplucked if I cud tell how this spook got it." + +"Unless the wild Hunter might be a relative of old Patrick Mullen," I +said, thinking aloud, and gasping at the thought, for the description of +the rifle somehow impressed me again with the possibility that this wild +man of the mountains might himself be Donald Mullen, and _my own +father!_ + +"Why do you say that, kid?" asked Big Pete with a queer look in his +eyes. + +"Oh, I don't know, I was just wondering to myself. But what makes you +think he's a supernatural being, and, Pete, does this wild loony hunter +look at all like me?" + +"Super what? Say when did you swallow a dictionary?--Oh, you mean what +makes me think he's a devil. No, he don't favor you none," he added with +a grin, "he's a _handsome_ devil, although he's done terrified every +white man, an' Injun, in these parts half t' death, so most of 'ems +afeared to come back here at all. Men have gone in the park jest to get +this wild man's scalp, but they've done come back scared yaller an' they +ain't opened their trap much about him since nuther. They do say he +spits fire an' chaws his meat offen the bone an' then cracks the bones +like a dog an' swallers it all. They do say, too, that he roars like +forty devils with their tails cut off when he gits mad an' some say as +when he wants t' git som wha' in a hurry he jest grabs aholt o' the feet +o' tha' there thunder bird and she flies off with him and draps him +anywha' he asks her to--Nope, I hain't seen none of these things myself +but others say they has, an' believe me, I'm plumb cautious when +travelin' these parts alone. Howsomever, he hain't yet skeered me 'nough +to make my ha'r come out by the roots," said Pete with a yawn. "There, +kick that back log over so's the fire can lick at t'other side; now +let's turn in." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Big Pete and I spent several weeks in our charming little camp at the +lower end of the park, for my guide decided that despite the recent +presence of the wild hunter, here would be a good place to get a shot at +some black-tail deer. In fact we saw signs of those animals all about +and my guide was only looking for fresh indication to start out on our +last hunt before we made our way deeper into the wilderness. + +On the third day of our stay I was returning to camp with my shotgun +over my shoulder and a brace of sage grouse in my hand, when I came upon +Big Pete in a swail about a mile from camp. He was bending low and +examining fresh signs when he saw me. + +"Howdy, kid, here's some doin's. Shall we foller him?" + +"Of course, Pete; what are we here for, the mountain air?" I answered. + +"No," answered Pete, in his deep, low voice, "we're here for game," and +off he started, but slowly and with great caution. I felt impatient, but +restrained myself, saying nothing and continued to follow my big guide +who now moved with the most painstaking care. Not a twig broke beneath +his moccasins as with panther-like step and crouching form he led me +through a lot of young trees over a rocky place until we struck a small +spring with a soft muddy margin. Here Pete came to a sudden halt. I +asked him why he did not go on, and he pointed to a ledge of rock that +ran up the mountain side diagonally with a flat, natural roadbed on top, +graded like a stage road but unlike a traveled road, ending in a bunch +of underwood and brush about a hundred yards ahead. + +Above the ledge of the rocks was a steep declivity of loose shale +sprinkled over with large and small boulders of radically different +formations, and in no manner resembling the friable, uncertain bed upon +which they rested. + +These boulders undoubtedly showed the result of the grinding and +polishing of an ancient, slow-moving glacier, but some other force had +deposited them in the present position. + +"He's in tha'," whispered Pete. + +"Who, the wild mountain man?" I asked. + +"No," answered my guide, "th' grizzly." + +"The what?" I almost shouted. + +"Th' grizzly," answered Pete; "what do you think we've been following?" + +"Black-tailed deer," I said softly, with my eyes glued on the thicket. + +"Well, tenderfoot, here's the trail of that tha' _deer_, and he hain't +been gone by here mor'n nor a week ago, nuther." + +I looked and there in the soft mud was the print of a foot, a +human-looking foot, but for the evenness in the length of the toes and +the sharpness and length of the toe nails. Yes, there was another +difference, and that was the size. It was the footprint of a savage +Hercules, the track of an enormous grizzly bear, and the soft mud that +had dripped from the big foot was still undried on the leaves and grass +when Pete pointed it out to me. + +"Well, Pete, don't forget your promise that I am to have first shot at +all big game," I whispered with my best effort at coolness, but my heart +was thumping against my ribs at a terrific rate. + +"But--why, bless you old man!" I whispered excitedly as I looked at my +gun, "I am armed only with a shotgun." + +"Tha's all right," replied the big trapper complacently; then, with a +quick motion, he whipped out his keen-edged knife and snatching one of +my cartridges he severed the shell neatly between the two wads which +separated the powder and shot; that is, a wad in each piece of the +cartridge was exposed by the cut. + +Guided by the faint longitudinal seam where the edges of the colored +paper join on the shell, Big Pete carefully fitted the two parts of the +cartridge together exactly as they were before being cut apart. Breaking +my gun, he slipped the mutilated ammunition into the unchoked barrel. + +"Tha'," he grunted, "tha's better than a bullet at short range, an'll +tar a hole in old Ephraim big enough to put your arm through." + +He cut two more in the same manner, saying, "Be darned kerful not to get +excited and put them in your choke barl, or tha' may be trouble." + +Hunting a grizzly with a shotgun and bird shot was not my idea of safe +sport, but I was too much of a moral coward to acknowledge to Pete that +I was frightened. Pete examined his gun, ran his finger over the +cartridges in his belt, and went through all the familiar motions which +to him were unconscious but always foretold danger ahead. + +"You drap on your prayer hinges behind that tha' nigger head," said +Pete, "and you will have a dead shot at the brute, an' I'll go up and +roll a stone down the mountain side and follow it as fast as I kin, so +as to be ready to help you if you need it; but you ought to drap him at +first shot at short range. Yer must drap him, yer must or I allow tha'll +be a right smart of a scrap here, and don't yer forget it!" + +"This is no Christmas turkey shooting, young feller, so look sharp," and +with a noiseless tread Pete vanished in the wood, while I with beating +heart and bulging eyes watched the thicket at the end of the ledge. I +had not long to wait before I heard a blood-curdling yell and then +crash! crash! crash! came a big boulder tearing down the mountain side. +It reached a point just over the thicket, struck a small pine tree, +broke the tree and leaped high into the air, then crashed into the +middle of the brush. + +Following with giant leaps came Big Pete Darlinkel down the rocky +declivity, but I only looked that way for one instant, then my eyes were +again fixed on the thicket, and in my excitement I arose to a standing +position. There was but a momentary silence after the fall of the +boulder before I heard the rustling of sticks and leaves, saw the top of +the bushes sway as some heavy body moved beneath, then there appeared a +head, and what a head it was! Bigger than all outdoors! I aimed my gun, +but my body swayed and the end of my shotgun described a large circle in +the air. I knew that my position was serious, but my nerves played me +false. + +I had never before faced a grizzly. I heard Big Pete's voice calling to +me to drop behind the rock, but I only stood there with a dogged +stupidity, trying to aim my gun at a mark which seemed to me as big +almost as a barn-door. + +I heard Pete give a sudden cry then there was a rattle of stones and +dirt on the ledge in front of the mountain of brownish hair that was +advancing in sort of side leaps or bounds like a big ball. + +The bear came to a sudden stop, and to my horror I saw the form of my +friend shoot over the edge of the overhanging rock right in the path of +the grizzly. It all flashed through my mind in a moment. Pete in his +haste to reach me had lost control of himself and slid with the rolling +stones and dirt over the mountain side, a fall of at least twenty-five +feet! + +Instantly my nerve returned and I rushed madly up the incline to rescue +my companion. I bounded between the branches of some stout saplings, +they parted as my body struck them but sprung together again before my +leg had cleared the V-shaped opening. + +My foot was imprisoned and I fell with a heavy thud on my face. For an +instant I was dazed, but even in my dazed state I was fully conscious of +Pete's impending peril, and I kicked and struggled blindly to free +myself. My gun had been flung from my hand in my fall and was out of my +reach. Then to my horror I heard the howl the wolf gives when game is in +sight, and even half blind as I was I saw dark, dog-like forms sweep by +me; I heard the scream of an eagle; I heard a snarling and yelping, the +sounds of a struggle--I ceased to kick, wiped the blood from my eyes and +looked ahead. + +There lay Big Pete Darlinkel, dead or unconscious, and within ten feet +of him stood the giant bear surrounded by a vicious pack of gaunt +red-mouthed wolves. The bear made a rush and a shadow passed over the +ground; I heard the sound of a large body rushing swiftly through the +air, and an immense eagle struck the bear like a thunderbolt; at the +same instant the wolves attacked him from all sides; then there was a +whistle keen and clear; the wolves retreated; the bird again soared +aloft; the bear made several passes in the air in search of the bird, +fell forward again on all fours, rose on its hind legs and killed a wolf +with one sweep of its great paw. + +The bear now made a dash at the giant leader of the pack, only to fall +forward, dead, with its ugly nose across Big Pete's chest. + +Then I remembered hearing the crack of a rifle, and knew that the Wild +Mountain Man had saved our lives. I tried to rise but found my ankle so +badly sprained that I could not stand on it. + +Suddenly a low voice with a hint of an Irish accent said, "Sit down, +stranger, while I look to your mate," and I saw the tall lithe figure of +a man clothed in buckskin bending over Pete. + +"Only stunned, friend," said he, and I heard no more. The blow on my +head, combined with the pain from my ankle was too much for me, and now +that the danger was over it was a good time to faint, and I took +advantage of it. + +How long I remained unconscious I do not know, but when my eyes opened +again it was night; through the interlacing boughs overhead the stars +were shining brightly, my head was neatly bandaged and so was my foot +and ankle. I could hear our horses cropping grass near by. I raised my +head and there lay Pete; he was alive I knew by his snores that issued +from his nose, and we were in our own camp; but--what are those animals +by our camp fire? Wolves! gaunt, shaggy wolves! + +I hastily arose to a sitting posture, but my alarm subsided when in the +dim light of the fire I could trace the outline of another man's figure, +and on a stick close to the stranger's head roosted a giant bird. + +Could it be that this wild man of the mountain--possibly my own +father--was camping with us? + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +"Moseyed, by gum! I'll be tarnally tarnashuned if that terri-fa-ca-cious +spook hain't pulled out!" was the exclamation that awakened me the +morning after our adventure with the bear. + +Lazily opening my eyes I gazed a moment at the sun just peeping over the +mountain, then closed them again; but when I attempted to change my +position a sharp pain in my ankle thoroughly awakened me. Still I lay +quiet because it was some time before I could collect my scattered +senses and separate in my mind the real incident and the dream +phantasms. + +The pain in my ankle, the swelled and irritated condition of my nose +plainly proved to me that there was no dream about my injuries, but I +discovered that my head and leg were neatly bandaged with strips of fine +linen. I sat for a while busily collecting the incidents of the past +twenty-four hours, arranging them in my mind in their proper order and +place. I cut out the dream portion from the realities with very little +trouble until I reached the part where I had awakened in the night and +had seen the wolves, the eagle and the Wild Hunter. I could not be sure +whether that was a dream or reality. Had I seen this strange old man +with his eagle and his wolf pack beside our camp fire or had I dreamed +it? Had this hobgoblin man, who might be my own father, rescued me from +death at the claws of the grizzly and bound my wounds for me, or was +that but a dream too? Had not Big Pete saved me perhaps and cared for me +afterward? + +"Pete, old fellow," I said presently, rising to my elbow, "who brought +me to camp? Who killed that bear? Who saved our lives?" + +"The Wild Hunter," replied Pete gravely. "He bathed my head with some +sort of good smelling stuff and, though I am as heavy as a dead +buffaler, toted me to camp; he 'lowed that I was all sort of shuk up and +a little hazy; he fixed my blanket, then he fotched you in on his +shoulders just as if you was a dead antelope, fixed you up with bandages +torn from handkerchiefs in your pocket, gave you a drink which you +didn't seem to appreciate, but just swallowed like you were asleep, then +he laid you out. I had my eye peeled on him but he said nary a word, an' +when we wuz both all comfortable he pulled out a long cigar, sot down by +the fire and was smoking tha' with his bird and his wolves around him +when I went to sleep. + +"He cut his bullets out, as he allus does," muttered Pete a little while +later. + +"Who cut what bullets?" I asked. + +"Whomsoever cud I mean but th' Wild Hunter, and wha's tha' been any +bullets lately but in th' b'ar?" queried my companion. + +"Yes, of course," I admitted, "but why do you suppose he cut out the +bullets?" + +"Wal, I reckon tha' might be right scarce and he haster be kinder +sparing with them. I calculate you'd like to have a hatful of them +balls, leastwise most folks would; cause the Wild Hunter don't use no +common low-flung lead for his bullets, no-sir-ree bob-horsefly! Tain't +good 'nuff for a high-cock-alorum like him--_he shoots balls of virgin +gold!_" + +But I was more interested in what had become of this strange man than in +the sort of projectiles rumor said that he used in his gun and so +dismissed the subject with a request for further information about our +rescuer. + +"This morning when I opened my peepers," Pete continued, "I t'ought +maybe the Wild Hunter had only gone off on a tramp; but he's done clared +out for good, and tuk his wolves and bird with him. I'm some glad he +took th' wolves, I don't sorter like the look of their mean eyes; they +do say that he is a wolf himself and the head of the pack." + +"What's that, Pete? Steady, old man, now let's go slow." + +"All right; tha's wha' I mean ter do. 'Cause it hain't a varmint natur' +to help men folks, and he done helped us, and no mistake, and left us +the bulk of the b'ar too,--only took the claws, teeth and tenderloin or +two for himself and pack; that is, if he be a wolf. But we will settle +that if your foot will let you walk a bit." + +"How far?" I asked. + +"Only over yan way to the first piece of wet ground, and the trail leads +down to tha' spring tha', and tha' is quite a right smart bit of muddy +swail beyont." + +"All right, I'll try it," I exclaimed. But I could not touch my foot on +the ground, and it was not until my guide had made me a crutch of a +forked branch, padded with a piece of fur, that I was able to go limping +along after Big Pete. + +We followed the trail left by the Wild Hunter to the spring. The trail +after that was plain, even to my inexperienced eyes; and when we reached +the muddy spot the print of the moccasined feet and the dog-like tracks +of the wolves were distinctly visible. + +But look at Big Pete! + +As motionless as a statue, with a solemn face he stoops with a rigid +figure pointing to the trail! I hastened to his side and saw that the +moccasin prints ceased in the middle of an open, bare, muddy place and +beyond were nothing but the dog-like tracks of the wolves. + +I looked up and all around; there were no overhanging branches that a +man could swing himself upon, no stones that he could leap upon--nothing +but the straggling bunches of ferns; but here in this open spot the Wild +Hunter vanished. + +We walked back in silence, for I had nothing to say, and Pete did not +volunteer any further information. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +To have one's nose all but broken, both eyes blackened and a twisted +ankle is a sad misfortune wherever it occurs, but when such a thing +happens to a fellow many weary miles from the nearest human habitation +and in a howling wilderness it might be considered anything but +pleasant. Yet, strange as it may appear, among the most pleasant and +precious memories I have stored away in my mind, only to be tapped upon +special occasions, is the memory of the glorious days spent nursing my +bruises and lolling around that far-away camp. Sometimes I listened to +the quaint yarns of my unique and interesting guide or idly watched the +changing colors and effects which the sun and the atmosphere produced on +the snow-capped mountains of Darlinkel's Park. I made friends with our +little neighbors the rock-chuck, whose home was in the base of the cliff +back of the spring, and became intimate with the golden chipmunk and its +pretty little black and white cousin, the four-striped chipmunk, both of +which were common and remarkably tame about camp. + +Back of the camp in the dark shade of the evergreens there was a bark +mound composed entirely of the fragments of the conifera cones, which +Pete said was the squirrel's dining room. This mound contained at least +four good cart-loads of fragments and all of it was the work of the +impudent little blunt-nosed red squirrels, which were plentiful in the +woods. + +How long it took these small rodents to heap such a mass of material +together I was unable to calculate, but the mound was as large as some +of the shell heaps made by the ancient oyster-eating men and left by +them along our coast from Florida to Maine. + +The numerous magpies seemed to be conscious of my admiration of their +beautiful piebald plumage and to take every opportunity to show off its +iridescent hues to the best advantage in the sunlight. + +Pete evidently thought I was a chap of very low taste, with a great lack +of discrimination in the choice of my friends among the forest folk, and +he could see no reason for my intimacy with "all th' outlaws and most +rascally varmints of the park." + +Truth compels me to admit that the pranks of some of my little friends +were often mischievous and annoying, but they were also humorous and +entertaining and I laughed when the "tallow-head" jay swooped down and +snatched a tid-bit from Pete's plate just as he was about to eat it, and +when the irate trapper threw his plate at the camp robber it was a +charming sight to see a number of birds flutter down to feast upon the +scattered food. + +The loud-mouthed, self-asserting fly-catcher in the cottonwood tree +learned to know my whistle, and whenever I attempted to mimic him he +would send back a ringing answer. The charming little lazulii buntings +were tamer than the irritating dirty English sparrows at home. + +It was interesting to notice how quickly all our little wild neighbors +learned to know that the sound produced by banging on a tin plate meant +dough-god and other good things at our camp, and as they came rustling +among the grasses or fluttering from bush and trees they showed more +fear of each other than they did of Pete and me. + +When the myriads of bright stars would twinkle in the blue black sky or +the great round-faced moon climb over the mountain tops to see what was +doing in the park, the birds and chipmunks were quiet, but then the big +pack-rats, with squirrel-like tails, would troop out from their secret +caves and invade the camp. + +In the gray dawn, while sleeping in a tent, I often awakened to hear +something scamper up its steep side and then laughed to see the shadow +of a comical little body toboggan down the canvas. Our pocket-knives, +compasses and all other small objects were never safe unless securely +packed away out of reach of these nocturnal marauders. + +Our conversations around the camp fire evenings were highly interesting +too, for Big Pete was a fluent talker with a wealth of stories of the +Great West at his tongue's end. Indeed, the story of his family and +their migration west was one that fascinated me. His father had been a +trapper in the old days; he had done his share of roaming the mountains, +prospecting and making his strikes, small and large, fighting Indians +and living the strenuous life of the border pioneer. He had found the +woman he afterward married unconscious under an overturned wagon of an +emigrant train that had been raided by the Indians, and after nursing +her back to health in his mining shack, had married her. With money he +had worked from the "diggin's" he had acquired, by grants from the +government, the beautiful and expansive mountain park where he had +planned to develop a ranch. He never went very far with his project, +however, for a raiding party of Indians caught him alone in the +mountains and his wife found his body pinned to the ground with arrows. +The shock of his tragedy killed Big Pete's mother soon after, and the +young Peter Darlinkel, then three years old, went to a nearby settlement +to be brought up by an uncle and a squaw aunt. Pete became prospector, +scout, trapper and hunter, using this beautiful park that became his as +a result of the passing of his father, as a private game preserve, so to +speak. That is, it was private except for the intrusion of the Wild +Hunter and his black wolf pack. + +In a fragmentary way Big Pete told me this story and other interesting +tales of this wild western country, but mostly our conversation turned +to this old man of the mountains who was such a mystery to everyone, +even to Big Pete, but who, despite the lugubrious reputation, had +proved a kindly gentleman and a good friend to me. + +There were no visible signs of a change in the weather which had been +clear for weeks, and the sky was otherwise clear blue save where the +white mares' tails swept across the heavens. But when we sat down to +supper that evening I could hear the rumbling of distant thunder. I knew +it was thunder for, although the fall of avalanches makes the same +noise, avalanches choose the noon time to fall when the sun is hottest +and the snows softest. Soon I could see the heads of some dark clouds +peering at us over the mountains and before dark the clouds crept over +the mountain tops and overcast our sky. + +It rained all that night in a fitful manner and came to a stop about +four A. M. The wind went down and the air seemed to have lost its +vivacity and life; it was a dead atmosphere; we arose from our blankets +feeling tired and listless. + +While we were eating our breakfast dark clouds again suddenly obscured +the heavens and before we had finished the meal big drops of rain set +the camp fire spluttering and drove us to the shelter of our tent; then +it rained! Lord help us! the water came down in such torrents that on +account of the spray we could not see thirty feet; then came hailstones +as large as hen's eggs. There was some lightning and thunder, but either +the splashing of the water drowned the rumbling or the electric fluid +was so far distant that the reports were not loud when they reached us. +Suddenly there was a ripping noise, followed by a sort of subdued roar +which stampeded our horses from their shelter under a projecting rock +and made the earth shudder. + +"Earthquake!" I exclaimed. + +"Wuss," said Pete, "hit's a landslide." + +Instantly a thought went through my brain like a hot bullet and made me +shudder. + +"Pete," I shouted. + +"I'm right hyer, tenderfut, you needn't holler so loud," he answered, +and calmly filled his pipe. + +I flung myself impulsively on my companion, grasped his big brawny +shoulders, and with my face close to his I whispered, "Pete, I believe +the slide occurred at the gate." + +"Well, hit did sound that-a-way," admitted Pete composedly. + +"Pete," I continued, "that butte has caved in on our trail!" + +"Wull, tenderfut, we ain't hurt, be we? Tha's plenty of game here fur +the tak'n of it and plenty of water, as fine as ever spouted from old +Moses' rock, right at hand. If the Mesa's cut our trail we can live well +here for a hundred years and not have to chew wolf mutton neither. I +don't reckon I can go to York with you just yet," drawled my comrade in +a most provokingly imperturbable manner, as he slowly freed himself from +my grasp and made for the camp fire, which being to a great extent +sheltered by an overhanging rock, was still smouldering in spite of the +drenching rain. Raking the ashes until he found a red glowing coal, Pete +deftly picked it up and by juggling it from one hand to the other, he +conducted the live ember to his pipe-bowl, then he puffed away as calmly +as if there was nothing in this world to trouble him. + +"If the gate be shut," he resumed, "it will keep out prospectors, tramps +and Injuns." With that he went to smoking his red-willow[1] bark again. + + [Footnote 1: The trappers and Indians made Kil-i-ki-nic, or + Kinnikinick, by mixing tobacco with the inside bark of red + willow, which is the common name for the red osier of the + dogwood family. EDITOR.] + +But I could not view the situation so complacently, and when the rain +had ceased as suddenly as it began, with some difficulty I caught my +horse and made my way to the gate, to discover that my worst fears were +realized; a large section of the cliff had split off the Mesa and slid +down into the narrow gateway completely filling the space and leaving a +wall of over one hundred feet of sheer precipice for us to climb before +we could escape from our Eden-like prison. + +Again a wave of superstitious dread swept over me as I viewed the +tightly closed exit, a dread that perhaps after all there was more to +Big Pete's superstitions about the Wild Hunter than I dared to admit, +else why should that cliff which had stood for thousands of years take +this opportunity to split off and choke up the ancient trail? + +The longer I questioned myself, the less was my ability to answer. I sat +on a stone and for some time was lost in thought. When at length I +looked up it was to see Big Pete with folded arms silently gazing at the +barricaded exit and the muddy pool of water extending for some distance +back of the gateway into the park. + +"Well, tenderfut, you was dead right in your judication. The gate air +shut sure 'nuff. Our horses ain't likely to take the back trail and +leave us, that's sartin." + +"Oh, Pete," I exclaimed, "how will we ever get out? Must we spend the +remainder of our lives here?" + +"It do look as if we'd stop hyer a right smart bit," he admitted, "maybe +till this hyer holler between the mountains all fills with water agin +like it was onct before, I reckon. Don't you think that we'd better get +busy and build a Noah's Ark?" + +"Pete, you'd joke if the world came to an end. But seriously I think we +might move our camp back to the far end of your park." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +One day after we had selected our new camp, I took my rod along and +wandered into the wonderful forest of ancient trees. There I seated +myself on a log to think over my experience. Somehow my own trials and +ambitions seemed small, trivial and not worth while when I looked upon +those grand trees standing silently on guard as they were standing when +Columbus was busy smashing a hard-boiled egg to make it stand on end. +Yes, naturalists tell us some of these same trees were standing before +the New Testament was written and then as now their branches concealed +their lofty tops and formed a screen through which the powerful rays of +the noon-day sun are filtered, refined and subdued to a dreamy twilight +below, a twilight in which the soft green mosses and lace-like ferns +thrive into luxuriant growth. + +It was so still and quiet in that forest that the silence seemed to hurt +my ears and I found myself listening to see if I could not hear the deep +dark blue blossoms of the fringed gentians whispering scandals about the +flaming Indian paint brushes that flourished in the opening in the woods +where the sun's ray could reach and warm the dark earth. As I listened I +could not help but speculate a great deal as to the possibilities of the +odd old man of this forest being in some way connected with my father's +history, but the story of the wolf-man as given to me by my big +companion was so varied and so mixed with the superstitions of the +Indians and trappers who had come in contact with him, or had seen him +and his weird wolf pack roaming the mountains, that I could not in any +way take it as the basis for a solution of the problem. + +Indeed, the more Big Pete told me the less I believed that this strange +and probably mad man could be my father. In truth, the only real clue +or even faint reason I had for believing that he owned the missing +"Patrick Mullen" was because this gun at a distance seemed to correspond +with the description of the Mullen's gun. It was a faint clue indeed and +sometimes seemed not worth investigation. Yet when I began to doubt the +possibility an unexplained impulse or force kept urging me on to believe +that if I but persisted and found an opportunity to examine this gun it +would prove to be the one I sought, and if I had a chance to talk to +this strange Wild Hunter much of the mystery that surrounded my own +babyhood would be cleared up, so I found myself earnestly longing for a +real interview with this mysterious creature. + +The more I thought of it the more I was inclined to believe that I was +on the right track, until at last convinced that this was so, I cried +aloud, "I have found him!" + +"Who! Who!" queried a startled owl, as it peered down at me from its +hiding place in the dense foliage of a cedar far above. + +"Never mind who, you old rascal," I laughingly replied, and picking up +my fishing-rod I parted the underbrush to start on my way through the +wood for some trout, but suddenly halted when I found myself staring +into the face of a huge timber wolf. The beast's lips were drawn back +displaying its gleaming fangs, its back hair was as erect as the cropped +mane of a pony, its mongolian eyes shone green through their narrow +slits and its whole attitude seemed to say, "Well, now that you have +found me, what do you propose to do?" + +Now, boys, do not make any mistake about me, I am not a hero and never +posed as one; in truth my timidity at times amounts to cowardice, a fact +which I usually keep to myself, but I never was afraid of wolves until I +so unexpectedly met this one. It is needless to say that I have no hair +on my back, it is as bare as that of any other fellow's, nevertheless, +on this occasion I could distinctly feel my bristles rise from the nape +of my neck to the end of my spine, just the same as those on the +oblique-eyed, shaggy monster whose snapping teeth were so near my face. + +Everybody is familiar with the fact that people who have had limbs +amputated often complain of pains or itching in the missing members. My +missing back hair, the hair which my ancestors lost by the slow process +of evolution, the hair which grew on the back of the "missing link," +stood on end at the sight of this wolf. However, this fear was but +momentary and when my courage returned I lifted my rod case in a +threatening manner, and the wolf slunk away as noiselessly as a shadow, +and like a shadow faded out of sight in the dim twilight of the ancient +forest. When I reached the open land beyond the forest another surprise +awaited me. + +Surely this is heaven, I thought as I waded knee-deep among the +beautiful flowers of the prairie, starting the sharp pin-tailed grouse, +prairie chickens and sage grouse from their retreats and sending the +meadow-larks skimming away over flowering billows. Reaching an +elevation where I could peer beyond the crests of one of the "ground +swells" which furrowed the sea of nodding blossoms, I saw through the +stems of the plants, a part of the prairie at first concealed from view, +and there appeared to be numerous irregular boulders of dark brown stone +scattered around among the vegetation, and the boulders were moving! + +Careful scrutiny, however, proved them to be not stones but live +buffalo. Big Pete had often told me that these animals lived unmolested +by him in the park; but when I realized that I was looking at between +three and four hundred real buffalo my heart gave a great jump of joy. I +tried to view them so as to take in their details, but the apparently +shapeless masses of dark reddish brown wool appeared to have none, +unless indeed the comical fur trousers with frayed bottoms on their +front legs might be called detail. + +Even the faces of the beasts were so concealed by masks of knotted wool +that at first I could distinguish neither eyes, noses, horns or ears; +but in spite of their ragged trousers and their masked faces, the bison +are sublime in their mighty strength and ponderous proportions, and as +this was the first wild herd I had ever seen and one of the very few, if +not the only one, then extant, I viewed them with the keenest interest. + +But the scattered bunches of antelope, which I now noticed were dotting +the plains around the buffalo, appealed to my love of the beautiful. +Knowing that in other localities these charming little creatures are +rapidly being slaughtered and steadily decreasing in numbers and that +all attempts to breed them in captivity have so far failed, they at once +absorbed my attention to the exclusion of their larger neighbors. + +When we moved our camp to the far side of the lake, Big Pete told me +that I could find plenty of trout streams beyond the timber belt, and he +also informed me that I could there see the walls of the park and +satisfy myself that there was but one trail leading into the preserve. + +I do not now recall the sort of walls that were pictured in my mind or +know what I really expected to see enclosing Darlinkel's Park, but I do +know that when I suddenly emerged from the dark forests into the sunlit +prairie, the scene which greeted my vision was not the one painted by my +imagination. + +Before me stretched an open plain surrounded by mountains arising +abruptly from a bed of many colored flowers; they were the same ranges +whose snow-covered peaks formed a feature of the landscape at the lake +and at our first camp. + +Here, however, their appearance was different, as different as the dark +forest from the open sunlit prairie. The scene at first did not seem +real, it had a sort of a drop-curtain effect that was as familiar to me +as the row of footlights and gilded boxes, but never did I expect to see +those delicate tints, that blue atmosphere, the fresco colored rocks and +all the theatrical properties of a drop-curtain duplicated in nature, +yet here it was before me, not a detail wanting, even the impossible +mammoth bed of gaudy flowers at the foot of the mountain was here and +the numerous cascades had not been forgotten. Well, it does seem +wonderful to me that unknown theatrical daubers should know so much more +of nature than the public for whom they paint. + +But, nature is a bolder artist than even the daring scenic painters; in +front of me was a prairie of flowers, acres and acres of waving, +undulating masses of color; thousands of Arizona wyetha (wild +sunflowers) mingled with the brilliant tips of the fire-weed and clumps +of odorous and delicately colored horsemint. There were other flowers +unfamiliar to me and hundreds of big blossoms of what I took to be a +member of the primrose family. It was in this garden that the buffalo +and antelope were grazing. + +An old buck antelope saw me and I instantly dropped to the ground and +was concealed by the flowering vegetation. I wanted to see the home +life of these animals, but was disappointed because of the attention I +had attracted. When first discovered the does were browsing with heads +down and the kids were playing tag with one another, every once in a +while spreading the white hair on their rumps and then lowering the +"white flag" again, they apparently used it as a Morse signal system of +their own. But now they were all alert and facing me; the bucks had seen +something and that something had suddenly disappeared. This must be +investigated, so they circled round hesitatingly; the apparition might +be a foe but still they _must_ satisfy their curiosity and discover what +it was of which they had had a moment's glimpse and thus they approached +nearer and ever nearer to my place of concealment. + +Soon, however, I became aware of the fact that the antelope had +unaccountably lost all thought of me and were deeply interested in +something else which from their actions I concluded to be recognized as +an enemy. It was now apparent that if Big Pete did not hunt the +prong-horns someone or something else _did_ hunt them. + +As a bunch broke away from the scattered groups and came in my +direction, making great leaps over the prairie, I detected the cause of +their panic in the form of a huge eagle which was keeping pace with and +flying over the fleeing prong-horns. + +The bird was not more than a dozen feet above the animals' backs and in +vain did the poor creatures try to distance their pursuer. At length +they scattered, each one taking a course of his own. Then the bird did a +strange thing. It singled out the largest buck and persistently +following him, it came directly towards me and passed within ten feet of +my ambush, the broad wings of the antelope's relentless foe casting a +dark shadow over the straining muscles of the beautiful animal's back. I +was tempted to drive the bird away or shoot at it with my revolver, but +the thought that I had seen that bird before restrained me and the fact +that it pursued a strong, healthy buck instead of selecting a weaker and +more easy prey convinced me that this eagle had been trained to the hunt +and was not a wild[2] bird, for the immutable law that "labor follows +the line of least resistance" holds good with all wild creatures. It was +not long before I had to use my field glasses to follow the chase and +then I discovered that the poor prong-horn was showing signs of fatigue. +It had made a grave error in dashing up an incline and the eagle from +his position above knew that the time had come to strike and, like a +thunderbolt, it fell, striking its hooked talons in the graceful neck of +the terror-stricken antelope. + + [Footnote 2: The late Howard Eaton of Wolf, Wyoming, watched an + eagle hunt down a prong-horned buck.--EDITOR.] + +Hoping to get a nearer view of the last tragedy, I hastened towards the +spot and before I was aware of my position, found myself close to the +herd of buffalo. I then saw that these beasts being unaccustomed to +man, did not fear him, but on the contrary meant to show fight. As I +came to a sudden halt the old bulls began to paw the earth, throwing the +dirt up over their backs and bellowing with a low vibrating roar that +was terror-inspiring. Then they dropped to their knees, rolled on their +backs, got up, shook themselves, licked their noses, "rolled up their +tails" into stiff curves, put down their heads and came at me. The cows +with their hair standing on end like angry elks and bellowing loudly +were not behind their lords in aggressiveness and the comical little +calves came bouncing along after their dame. + +Was I frightened? That depends upon one's definition of the word. I was +not panic-stricken, but to say that I was not _excited_ when I saw those +animated masses of dark brown wool come roaring and thundering at me +would be to make boast that no one who has had a similar experience +would believe. + +Fortunately, not far behind me was the hollow or gully already +mentioned and I bolted over the edge of it. As soon as the bank +concealed my person I ran as I never ran before taking a course at right +angles to my original one and leeward of the herd, and at last, out of +breath, I rolled over in the weeds and lay there panting and straining +my ears to hear the snorting beasts. + +My chest felt dry, hot and oppressed from forced and labored breathing, +and had the buffalo discovered me I do not think I could have run +another step. But the big brutes halted at the edge of the bank and +seeing no one in sight walked around pawing and throwing up great clouds +of dust and in their rage apparently daring me to come forth. Like a +small boy when he hears a challenge from a gang of toughs, I decided +that I did not want to fight and lay as quiet as possible among the +sunflowers until I had regained my breath. When the buffalo wandered +back to their original pasture land I, like a coyote, slunk away and +consoled myself with the thought that although I had had my run for my +money, at least, I had seen the death of the antelope even if I did miss +again seeing the Wild Hunter "collar his game," as Big Pete would have +called the act of securing it. Besides this I had a real exciting +adventure with good red-blooded American animals and learned the lesson +that large horned beasts which have not been taught to fear man are +exceedingly dangerous to man. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Rising abruptly from the prairie was a frowning precipice a thousand or +more feet high and above and beyond the top of this cliff, the +mountains. + +When Big Pete told me that his park was "walled in" he told me the +mildest sort of truth; the prairie is the bottom of a wide canyon, in +fact everything seems to indicate that the whole park had settled, +sunk--"taken a drop" of a thousand or more feet; forming what miners +would call a fault. + +From the glaciers up among the clouds numerous streams of melted ice +came dashing down the sides of the mountain range, fanciful cascades +leaping without fear from most stupendous heights spreading out in long +horse-tail falls over the face of the cliff, doing everything but +looking real. At the foot of each of the falls there was a pool of deep +water, in one or two instances the pools were smooth basins hollowed out +of solid rock in which the water was as transparent as air and but for +the millions of air bubbles caused by the falling water every inch of +bottom could be plainly seen by an observer at the brink of the pool. + +The trout in these basins were almost as colorless as the water itself +(the light color of the fish is due to their chameleon-like power of +modifying their hue to imitate their surroundings)--this mimicry is so +perfect that after looking into one of these stone basins, the rounded +smooth sides of which offered no shade or nook where a trout might hide, +I was ready to declare the waters uninhabited but no sooner had my brown +hackel or professor settled lightly on the surface of the pool than out +from among the air bubbles a fish appeared and seized the fly. + +My sprained ankle was now so much improved that upon discovering a +diagonal fracture in the face of the cliff, which looked as if offering +a foot hold, and feeling reckless, I determined to make the effort to +scale the wall at this point. + +If the giant "fault" is of comparatively recent occurrence, geologically +speaking, it seemed reasonable that there would be trout in the streams +above the cliff and the memory of the fact that Pete had reported that +both Rocky Mountain sheep and goats were up there decided me to attempt +to scale the wall by the fracture. It was a long, hard climb and more +than once while I clung to the chance projections or dug my fingers into +small cracks and looked down upon the backs of some golden eagle sailing +in spirals below me, I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt, but when +the top was reached and I saw signs of sheep and had a peep at a white +object I took to be a goat, I felt repaid for my arduous climb. + +The elevated prairie or table-land on which I found myself corresponded +in every important particular with the park below; there were the same +natural divisions of prairie and forests, the same erratic boulders, but +on account of the difference in elevation there was a corresponding +difference in plant life, and most interesting of all to me, there were +the trout streams. The tablelands above the park were comparatively +level in places where the stream ran almost as quietly as a meadow +brook, but these level stretches were interrupted at short distance by +foaming rapids, jagged rocks and roaring falls. + +My angler's instinct told me that the biggest fish lurked in the deep +pools, to reach which it was necessary to creep and worm myself over the +open flats of sharp stones and patches of heather, but once on the +vantage ground the swish of a trout rod sounded there for the first time +since the dawn of Creation. + +[Illustration: More than once while I clung to the chance projection +... I regretted making the fool-hardy attempt] + +There was an audible splash at my first cast. My, how that reel did +sing! Before I realized it, my fish had reached rapid water and taken +out a dangerous amount of line; still I dared not check him too severely +among the sharp rocks and swift waters, so I ran along the bank, +stumbling over stones, but managing to avail myself of every opportunity +to wind in the line until I had the satisfaction of seeing enough line +on my reel to prepare me for possible sudden dashes and emergencies. + +Ah! that was a glorious fight, and when at last I was able to steer my +tired fish into shallow water I saw there were three of them, one lusty +trout on each of my three flies. I had no landing net so I gently slid +the almost exhausted fish onto a gravel bar and as I did so I +experienced one of those delightful thrills which comes to a fellow's +lot but once or twice in a life-time. But it was not because I had +captured three at a strike, for I have done that before and since, but I +thrilled because they were not only a new and strange kind of trout, but +they were of the color and sheen of newly minted gold. Never before had +any man seen such trout. + +I have since been informed that I had blundered on to water inhabited by +the rarest of all game fish, the so-called golden trout, which has since +been discovered and which scientists declare to be pre-glacier fish left +by some accident of nature to exist in a new world in which all their +original contemporaries have long been extinct. + +Think of it! Fish which had never seen an artificial fly nor had any +family traditions of experiences with them. It is little wonder that +they would jump at a brown hackle, a professor or even a gaudy salmon +fly. Why they would jump at a chicken feather! They were ready and eager +to bite at any sort of bunco game I saw fit to play upon them. They were +veritable hayseeds of the trout family, but when they felt the hook in +their lips, the wisest trout in the world could not show a craftier nor +half as plucky a fight. They would leap from the water like +small-mouthed bass and by shaking their heads, try to throw off the +hateful hook. + +The constant vigorous exercise of leaping water-falls and forging up +boiling rapids had developed these sturdy mountaineer trout into +prodigies of strength and endurance. Even now my nerves tingle to the +tips of my toes as in fancy I hear my reel hum or see the tip of my five +ounce split bamboo bend so as to almost form a circle. + +I fished that stream with hands trembling with excitement and had filled +my creel with the rare fish before I began to notice other objects of +interest. Suddenly I became aware of the presence of two birds hovering +over and diving under the cold water. They were evidently feeding on +some aquatic creature which my duller senses could not discern. + +Although they were the first of the kind that I had ever seen alive, I +at once recognized the feathered visitors to be water ouzels. The birds +preceded me on my way along the water course towards camp, and were +never quiet a minute. They would hop on a rock in mid-stream and bob up +and down in a most solemn but comical manner for a moment before +plunging fearlessly into the cold white spray of the falls or the swift +dashing current, where they would disappear below the surface only to +reappear once more on another rock to bob again. + +A ducking did not trouble the ouzels, for as they came out of the water +the liquid rolled in crystal drops from their feathers and their plumage +was as dry as if it had never been submerged. The wilder and swifter the +cold glacier water ran the more the birds seemed to enjoy it. + +The nearer I approached the edge of the precipitous walls, enclosing the +valley comprising Big Pete's park, the rougher grew the trail, and as I +was picking my way I paused to gaze at the distant purple peaks and +watch the sun set in that lonely land as if I was witnessing it for the +first time. As my eyes roamed over the stupendous distance and unnamed +mountains I felt my own puny insignificance, as who has not when +confronted with the vastness of nature. + +I turned from my view of the sunset to retrace my steps to the valley, +and peeping over the top of a large boulder, saw seated upon an +inaccessible crag directly in front of me, a gigantic figure of a man +clad in a hunter's garb, and he was smoking a long cigar! + +When I thought of Big Pete's description of how the Wild Hunter was wont +to sit with his long legs dangling from some rock while he smoked one of +those unprocurable cigars, and when I realized that the figure before me +was fully sixty feet tall, I must confess to experiencing a queer +sensation. + +It was a shadowy figure yet it moved, arose, held out one hand, and a +bird as large as the fabled roc alighted on the wrist of the +outstretched hand. + +A slight breeze sprang up, the white mists from the valley rolled up the +mountainside and drifted away and the man and bird disappeared from +view. + +It was long after dark when I reached camp and was greeted by my friend +and guide with "Gol durn your pictur tenderfut, if it hain't tuk you +longer to get a pesky mess of yaller fish than it orter to kill a bar." + +"Little wonder," thought I, "that the Wild Hunter used golden bullets in +a land where even the fish's scales seemed to be of the same precious +metal"; but I said nothing as I sat down to clean my "yaller trout." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +It was always interesting to me when I could get Pete's theories and his +brand of philosophy on almost any subject and it was my intention that +night at supper to lead up to the apparition I had seen on the cliffs +that day. With a substantial supper tucked away I was in a better frame +of mind to realize that the illusion I had seen was not uncommon in +mountain districts. I recalled that I had read of, and seen pictures of, +a particular illusion of this nature that is often present in the Hartz +Mountains in Germany and I knew full well that the setting sun, the mist +and the atmospheric condition had all contributed to throwing a greatly +enlarged shadow of the real Wild Hunter onto the screen made by the mist +very much as today a motion picture increases the size of the small film +image when it is thrown on the movie screen. + +I intended to get Big Pete's idea on the subject but I never did for I +was not adroit enough to steer the conversation in that direction, for +Big Pete seized my first statement and made it a subject for a veritable +lecture. + +"There was a smashing lot of those trout up there, Pete. Bet I could +have brought home all I could have carried if I had been a game hog," I +said, as I stirred the fire with a stick and set the coffee pot nearer +the flames to warm a second cup. + +"You see, tenderfut, it's like this," he said, "when a man goes out to +kill a deer for the fun of blood-spilling or to get th' poor critter's +head to hang in his shack, he's nothing more than a wolf or butcher; +hain't half as good a man as the one who never shot a deer, but goes +back home and lies about it. The liar hain't harmed nothin' with his +lies. His fairy stories don't hurt game an' they be interesting to the +tenderfuts in the States. The real sportsman is the pot-hunter. Yes, +that's jist what I mean, a pot-hunter--he's out 'cause the camp kettle +is empty, and it's up agin him to fill it or starve. Now then, this +fellow is not after blood; nor trophies, nor is he hunting for the +market. It's self-preservation with him, that's what it is. He's an +animal along with the rest of 'em and he knows he's got jest as much a +right to live as tha' have and no more! He's hustling for his living +along with the bunch, forcing it from savage nature, and I tell you boy, +there is no greater physical pleasure in life than holding old Mother +Nature up and just saying to her, 'You've got a living for me, ole' gal, +and I'm going to get it.' + +"Such talk pleases the old lady, makes her your friend 'cause she likes +your spunk, and because of it she'll give you the wind of a grey wolf, +the step of the panther, the strength of the buffalo and the courage of +a lion. She is always generous with her favorites. Ah! lad, she kin make +your blood dance in your veins, make fire flash from your eyes and give +you the steady nerve necessary to face a she-grizzly when she is +fightin' for her cubs." + +"Why? 'cause you see, you are a grizzly yourself when the camp kettle is +empty!" And Big Pete relapsed into silence, turned his attention to his +tin platter, examining it carefully, and then with a piece of dough-god, +carefully wiped the platter clean and contentedly munched the savory +bit. + +The reason, that being locked into Big Pete's park in the mountains +struck me as being very serious, was because I realized that although +the park was extensive it was completely surrounded by a practically +unsurmountable barrier of rugged cliffs and mountains negotiable, as far +as I knew, not even by the sure-footed mountain sheep and goats which we +could occasionally see on the cliffs from the valley floor, but never +saw in the park itself. I questioned Big Pete and found that he did not +know of a trail up the cliffs. + +"Though," he said, "there must be some sort of a one for that tha' Wild +Hunter gits in an' out and brings his wolf pack along too. He knows a +trail all right an' ef he knows it why it's up to us to find it, too." + +"Maybe we can trail him," I suggested. + +"Trail him! Me? With that wolf pack clingin' to his heels? Not while I'm +alive!" + +That was the last that was said about trailing the Wild Hunter for some +time to come, but meanwhile we built a more or less open faced permanent +camp and Big Pete initiated me into mysteries of real woodcraft, for it +was up to us now to live on the land, so to speak. + +Although hard usage had made havoc with my tailormade clothes, neither +time nor the elements seemed to affect the personal appearance of my big +companion; his buckskin suit was apparently as clean and fresh as it was +on the day I first met him. There was no magic in this. Big Pete knew +how to clamber all day through a windfall without leaving the greater +part of his clothes on the branches, a feat few hunters and no +tenderfoot have yet been able to accomplish. + +As I have already said, Pete was a dude, but he was what might be called +a self-perpetuating dude, who never ran to seed no matter how long he +might be separated from the city tailor shops, for Pete was his own +tailor, barber and valet, and the wilderness supplied the material for +his costume. + +In the camp he was as busy as an old housewife, and occupied his leisure +time mending, stitching and darning. Many a morning my own toilet +consisted of a face wash at the spring, but my guide seldom failed to +spend as much time prinking as if he expected distinguished visitors! + +Instead of "Tenderfoot," Big Pete now called me "Le-loo," which I +understand is Chinook for wolf and I took so much pride in my promotion +that I would not have changed clothes with the Prince of Wales; I +gloried in my wild, unkempt appearance! + +Nevertheless, Big Pete announced that he was the Hy-as-ty-ee (big boss) +and he forthwith declared that my costume was unsuitable for the +approaching cold weather. There was no disputing that Big Pete was +Hy-as-ty-ee and I agreed to wear whatever clothes he should make for me, +and can say with no fear of dispute that if that ancient chump, Robinson +Crusoe, had had a Big Pete for a partner in place of a man Friday, he +would have never made himself his outlandish goatskin clothes and a +clumsy umbrella. + +From a cache in the rocks Pete brought forth a miscellaneous lot of +trappers' stores, bone needles made from the splints of deer's legs, +elk's teeth with holes bored through them, and odds and ends of all +kinds. + +Among his stuff was a supply of salt-petre and alum, and this was +evidently the material for which he was searching for he at once +preceeded to make a mixture of two parts salt-petre to one of alum and +applied the pulverized compound to the fleshy side of the skins, then +doubling the raw side of the hides together he rolled them closely and +placed the hides in a cool place where they were allowed to remain for +several days; when at length unrolled, the skins were still moist. + +"Just right, by Gosh," he exclaimed, as he took a dull knife and +carefully removed all particles of fat or flesh which here and there +adhered to the hide. After this was done to his satisfaction we both +took hold and rubbed, and mauled and worked the skins with our hands +until the hides were as soft and as pliable as flannel. Thus was the +material for my winter clothing prepared. + +It took four whole deer-skins to furnish stuff for my buckskin shirt +with the beautiful long fringes at the seams; but the whole garment was +cut, sewed and finished in a day's time. It was sewed with thread made +of sinew. + +When it came to making the coat and trousers Big Pete spent a long time +in solemn thought before he was ready to begin work on these garments; +at length he looked up with a broad smile and cried: + +"See here, Le-loo, I have taken a fancy to them 'ere tenderfut pants o' +your'n. Off with 'em now an' I'll jist cut out the new ones from the old +uns." In vain I pleaded with him to make my trousers like his own; he +would not listen to me, he insisted upon having my ragged but stylish +knickerbockers to use as a pattern. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Big Pete was an expert backwoods tailor, shoemaker and shirtmaker, but +these were but few of his accomplishments, not his trade; he was first, +last and aways a hunter and scout. No matter what occupation seemed to +engage his attention for the time it never interfered with his ability +to hear, see or smell. + +It was while I was going around camp minus my lower garments that I saw +Pete suddenly throw up his head and suspiciously sniff the air, at the +same time sharply scanning the windward side of our camp. Living so long +with this strange man made me familiar with his actions and quick to +detect anything unusual and I now knew that something of interest had +happened. To the windward and close by us was a mound thickly covered +with bullberry bushes and underbrush, and so far as could be seen there +was nothing suspicious in the appearance of the thicket. Fixing my eyes +on Big Pete, I saw a peculiar expression spread over his face which +seemed to be half of mirth and half of wonderment, and I immediately +knew that his wonderful nose had warned him of the presence of something +to the windward. + +Slowly and quietly he laid aside my almost finished breeches and +silently stole away. It was only a few minutes before he returned with a +very solemn face. + +"Doggone my corn shucked bones, Le-loo, we've had a visitor but it got +away mighty slick and quick. I hain't determint yit whether it wa' man +er beast er both, er jist a thing wha' might change into 'tother. We'll +hafter investigate later. Here git these duds on." + +When I put on my new elk-hide knickerbockers with cuffs of dressed +buckskin laced around my calves, and my beautiful soft buckskin shirt +tucked in at the waist I began to feel like a real Nimrod, but after I +added my "Moo-loch-Capo," the shooting jacket with elk-teeth buttons, +pulled a pair of shank moccasins over my feet and donned a cap made of +lynx skin, I was as happy as a child with its Christmas stocking. It was +a really wonderful suit of clothing; the hair of the elk hide was on the +outside, and not only made the coat and breeches warmer, but helped to +shed the rain. The buttons of the elk-teeth were fastened on with thongs +run through holes in their centers, and my coat could be laced up after +the fashion of a military overcoat. The elk's teeth served as frogs and +loops of rawhide answered for the braid that is used on military coats. + +My shank moccasins were made by first making a cut around each of the +hind legs of an elk, at a sufficient distance above the heels to leave +hide enough for boot legs and making another cut far enough below the +heels to make room for one's feet. The fresh skins when peeled off +looked like rude stockings with holes at the toes. The skins were +turned wrong side out, and the open toes closed by bringing the lower +part, or sole, up over the opening and sewing it there after the manner +of a tip to the modern shoe. When this novel foot-gear was dry enough +for the purpose, Big Pete ornamented the legs with quaint colored +designs made with split porcupine quills colored with dyes which Pete +himself had manufactured of roots and barks. + +Dressed in my unique and picturesque costume I stood upright while Pete +surveyed me with the pride and satisfaction of one who had done a fine +piece of work. I had now little fear of being called a tenderfoot and +when I viewed my reflection in the spring I felt quite proud of my +appearance. + +"Come along now old scout," said Pete viewing me with the pride of an +artist, "come along and let me test you on a real trail. I want to see +what my teaching has done for you." + +Pete led me through the underbrush to a point among the rocks. + +"Tha'. A trail begins right under yore nose; let's see what you make of +it," he said crisply. + +Down on all fours I crept over the ground and, to my surprise and joy, I +found that I could here and there detect a turned leaf the twist of +which indicated the direction taken by the party who made the trail. I +noticed that the bits of wood, pine cones and sticks scattered around +were darker on the parts next to the ground, and it only required simple +reasoning for me to conclude that when the dark side was uppermost the +object had been recently disturbed and rolled over. + +It was a day of great discoveries. I found that what is true of the +sticks is equally true of the pebbles and a displaced fragment of stone +immediately caught my eyes. With the tenacity of a bloodhound I stuck to +my task until I suddenly found myself at the base of the park wall, at +the foot of the diagonal fracture in the face of the cliff where I had +climbed when I discovered the golden trout. As I have said, the +fracture led diagonally up the towering face of the beetling precipice. + +For fear that I might have made some mistake I carefully retraced my +steps backward toward the bullberry bushes near the camp. On the back +trail I came upon some distinct and obvious footprints in a dusty place, +but so deeply interested was I in hidden signs, the slight but tell-tale +disturbances of leaf and soil, that I once passed these plainly marked +tracks with only a glance and would have done so the second time had not +their marked peculiarities accidentally caught my attention. + +When examining the trail of this mysterious camp visitor I suddenly +realized that in place of moccasin footprints I was following bear +tracks, my heart ceased to beat for a moment or two before I could pull +myself together and smother the prehensile footed superstitious old +savage in me with the practical philosophy of the up-to-date man of +today. + +Taking a short cut I ran back to the foot of the pass and there, on +hands and knees, ascended for a hundred feet or more--the bear steps led +up the pass, and yet at the beginning of the trail the feet wore +moccasins. This I knew because at one place the foot-mark showed plainly +in the gray alkali dust which had accumulated upon a projecting stone a +few feet below the ledge. Obviously whoever the visitor was, he had +entered and left by this pass. Returning to camp I sat down on a log +lost in thought. My reverie was at last broken by the voice of my guide +quietly remarking. "Well, Le-loo, what's your judication?" + +"Pete," I said, "that bear walks on its hind-legs; there is not the sign +of a forefoot anywhere along the trail. Now this could not be caused by +the hind feet obliterating the tracks of the front feet, because in many +places the pass is so steep that the forefeet in reaching out for +support would make tracks not overlapped by the hind ones." + +"That's true, Le-loo; sartin true. If you live to be a hundred years +you'll make as good a trailer as the great Greaser trailer of New +Mexico, Dolores Sanchez, or my old friend Bill Hassler, who could follow +a six-month-old trail," replied my guide. "But," he continued, "maybe +witch-bears do walk on their hind legs same as people." + +"Witch be blamed!" I cried impatiently; "this is no four-legged witch +nor bear either. That was a man and when he thought he would be followed +he put on moccasins made from bears' paws to leave a disguised trail. +And moreover I believe that man is none other than the Wild Hunter +without his wolf pack. And that pass is the pathway he takes in and out +of this park. I'm going to trail him whether you want to or not. Goodbye +Pete, I'll come back for you," and picking up my gun and other necessary +traps, I prepared to start immediately upon my journey, for I felt that +to follow this trail would not only get us out of our park prison but +would lead me to the abode of the Wild Hunter, where perhaps I could +talk with him and learn some of the things I was so eager to know about +my parents. + +Big Pete looked at me solemnly for a while, ran over the cartridges in +his belt and went through all those familiar unconscious motions which +betokened danger ahead, and said, "Le-loo, you are a quare critter; +you're not afraid of all the werwolves, medicine ba'rs and ghosts in +this world or the next, but tarnally afeared of live varmints like +grizzly bars--one would think you had no religion, but, gosh all +hemlock! If you can face a bear-man or a werwolf, even though all the +Hy-as Ecutocks of the mountains show fight, I'll be cornfed if I don't +stand by ye! Barring the Wild Hunter, I don't know as I ever ran agin a +Ecutock yit; that is if he be a Ecutock. Maybe he's a Econe? Yes, I +reckon that's what he is," continued Pete reflectively. + +"Maybe he is a pine cone," I laughed. Then added, "Whatever he is, he +knows the way out of this park of yours and I am going to follow him," I +emphatically answered. + +"That's howsomever!" exclaimed my guide approvingly; "but," he +continued, "the mountains are kivered with snow, while it is still +summer down here, so I reckon 'twould be the proper wrinkle for us to +pull our things together, have a good feed and a good sleep before we +start. White men start off hot-headed and I kinder like their grit, but +Injuns stop and sot by the fire an' smoke an' think afore they start on +a raid an' I kinder think they be wiser in this than we 'uns, so let's +do as the Injuns would do. We can cache most of our stuff and turn the +horses loose. Bighorn's mutton is powerful good, but tarnally shy and +hung mighty high, an' billygoat is doggoned strong 'nless you know how +to cook 'em. Yes, we'll eat an sleep fust an' then his for the land +where the Bighorn pasture, the woolywhite goats sleep on the rocks, the +whistling marmot blows his danger signal an' the pretty white ptarmigan +hides hisself in the snow-banks, the home of the Ecutocks. + +"What the thunder is a Ecutock, Pete?" I asked. + +"An Injun devil, I reckon you'd call it; it's bad medicine," he answered +soberly, and continuing in his former strain, he exclaimed: + +"Whar critters like goats, sheeps and rock-chucks kin live, you bet your +Hy-as muck-a-muck we kin live too!" + +That night I rolled up into my blanket, filled with strange +presentiments. Again the question came up: What is the source of the +influence that this madman of the mountains, this wild hunter, this +leader of the black wolf pack, had on me to impel me to trail him over +the mountains? Was it mental telepathy? Could he really be my father? +Somehow I felt convinced that soon I would be face to face with the +riddle, soon I would know the facts and the truth about my parents. It +seemed unthinkable that all these weeks of wilderness travel had been +for naught and that the Wild Hunter was nothing but a strange, eccentric +old fellow living alone in the mountains and of no interest to me +whatsoever. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +We made our start at daylight, loaded with all the necessities for a +climb over the mountains. The rest of our supplies and equipment we +cached, and Big Pete turned our horses loose assuring me that in the +spring he would come back and rope them. + +The lower trail of the pass was quite well defined and we made famous +progress, but the higher we climbed the more difficult the going became +and more than once we were forced to pause on a ledge to rest and regain +our breath. + +On one ledge I got my first really close view of a bighorn sheep, and I +became so excited that nothing would do but I must stalk him, despite +Big Pete's assurance that the wily old ram would not let me get within +gun shot of him in such an exposed area. + +I crawled, and wriggled, and twisted over rock and boulders for what to +me seemed miles, but always the sheep kept just out of accurate shooting +distance ahead of me. It was an exasperating chase, but one cannot live +in the mountains for any length of time without paying more or less +attention to geology; the mountaineer soon learns that stratified rock, +that is rock arranged like layer cake, resting in a horizontal position +on its natural bed, makes travel over its top comparatively easy, but +when by the subsidence or upheaval of the earth's crust huge masses of +stone have been tilted up edgewise, it is an entirely different +proposition. + +In this latter case the erosion, or the wearing away, caused by +trickling water, frost and snow, sharpens the edge of the rock, as a +grindstone does the edge of an ax, and traveling along one of these +ridges presents almost the same difficulties that travel along the edge +of an upturned ax would do to a microscopic man. + +But when a sportsman, for the first time in his life, has succeeded in +creeping within range of a grand bighorn ram, and his bullet, speeding +true, has badly wounded the game, hardships are forgotten, and if, on +account of the miraculous vitality of the mountain sheep, there is +danger of losing the quarry, all the inborn instinct of the predaceous +beast in man's nature is aroused, and danger is a consideration not to +be taken in account. + +A hawk in pursuit of a barnyard fowl will follow it into the open door +of the farmhouse; the hound in pursuit of the fox cares not for the +approaching locomotive--being possessed by the instinct to kill--nothing +is of importance to them but the capture of the game in sight. A man +following a buck is governed by a like singleness of purpose. + +For this reason I was scrambling along the knife-like edge of the ridge, +with death in the steep treacherous slide rock on one side, death in the +steep green glacier ice on the other side, and torture and wounds under +my feet. + +But the fever of the chase had possession of me. I had tasted blood and +felt the fierce joy of the puma and the wild intoxication of a hunting +wolf! + +The cruel wounds inflicted by the sharp stones under my feet were +unnoticed. Away ahead of me was a moving object; it could use but three +legs, but that was one leg more than I had, and the ram had distanced +me. After an age of time I reached the rugged, broader footing of the +mountain side, and creeping up behind some sheltering rocks again fired +at the fleeing ram. With the impact of the bullet the sheep fell +headlong down a cliff to a projecting rock thirty feet below, where it +lay apparently dead. A moment later it again arose, seemingly as able as +ever, and ran along the face of the beetling rock where my eyes, aided +by powerful field glasses, could perceive no foothold; then it gave a +magnificent leap to a ledge on the opposite side of the narrow canyon +and fell dead, out of my reach. + +Spent with my long, rough run, I naturally selected the most +comfortable seat in which to rest; this chanced to be a cushion of +heather-like plants along the side of a fragment of rock which +effectually concealed my body from view from the other side of the +chasm. Here, on the verge of that impassable canyon, I sat panting and +looking at the poor dead creature upon the opposite side; its right +front leg was shattered at the shoulder, a bullet had pierced its lungs. +Yet, with two fatal wounds and a useless leg, the plucky creature had +scaled the face of a cliff which one would think a squirrel would find +impossible to traverse and made leaps which might well be considered +improbable for a perfectly sound animal. The ram was dead and food for +the ravens, and a reaction had taken place in my mind; I felt like a +bloody murderer, and hung my head with a sense of guilt. + +Presently, becoming conscious of that peculiar guttural noise, used by +Big Pete when desiring caution, and looking up I was amazed to see a +splendid Indian youth climb down the face of the opposite cliff, throw +his arms around the dead ram's neck and burst into deep but subdued +lamentation. For the first time I now saw that what I had mistaken for a +blood stain on the bighorn's neck was a red collar. + +Cautiously producing my field glasses I examined the collar and +discovered it to be made of stained porcupine quills cleverly worked on +a buckskin band. The field glasses also told me that the boy's shirt was +trimmed with the same material, while a duplicate of the sheep's collar +formed a band which encircled his head, confining the long black hair +and preventing it from falling over his face, but leaving it free to +hang down his back to a point below the waist line. + +So absorbed was I in this unique spectacle that I carelessly allowed my +elbow to dislodge a loose fragment of stone which went clattering down +the face of the precipice. This proved to be almost fatal carelessness, +for, with a movement as quick as the stroke of a rattlesnake, the lad +placed an arrow to the string of a bow and sent the barbed shaft with +such force, promptitude and precision that it went through my fur cap, +the arrow entangling a bunch of my hair, taking it along with it. + +"Squat lower, Le-loo; arrows has been the death of many a man afore +you," whispered Big Pete in my ear, but even as he spoke another arrow +sang over our crouching bodies, shaving the protecting rock so closely +that their plumed tips brushed the dust on our backs. + +"Waugh! Good shootin', by gum! I never seed it beat; if he onct sots +them black eyes on our hulking carcasses he'll get us yit," muttered my +guide, enthusiastically. "He's mighty slender, quick and purty--but so +also be a rattlesnake!" he exclaimed, as another arrow slit the sleeve +of his wamus as cleanly as if it were cut with a knife. + +"For God's sake, stop!" I shouted, in real alarm. The boy paused, but +with an arrow still drawn to its head. His eyes flashing, head erect, +one moccasined foot on the ram's body, the other braced against the +cliff; his short fawn-colored skin shirt clung to his lithe body, and +the fringed edges hung over the dreadful black chasm in front of him. It +was a picture to take away one's breath. "Put down your weapon, and we +will stand with our hands up," I cried. Slowly the bow was lowered and +as slowly Big Pete and I arose, holding our empty hands aloft. "Now, +young fellow, tell us your pleasure." + +There are a few gray hairs showing at my temples which first made their +appearance while I was crouching behind that stone on the edge of the +chasm. + +To my polite inquiry asking his pleasure, the wild boy made no reply but +glanced at us with the utmost contempt when Big Pete went through some +gestures in Indian sign language. The lad mutely pointed to the dead +sheep, the sight of which seemed to enrage him again, for insensibly his +fingers tightened on the bow and the wood began to curve after a manner +which sent me ducking behind the sheltering stone again; but Big Pete +only folded his arms across his broad chest and looked the boy straight +in the eyes. + +Never will I forget that picture, the cold, bleak, snow-covered +mountains towering above them, the black abyss of Sheol between them; +neither would hesitate to take life, neither possessed a fear of death; +but with every muscle alert and every nerve alive these two wild things +stood facing each other, mutually observing a truce because of--what? +Because, in spite of the fighting instinct or, maybe, because of it they +both secretly admired each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The black chasm which separated us from the trail of the wild hunter was +not as formidable a barrier as the unfathomable abyss which separates +the reader from what he thinks he would have done had he been in my +place, and what really would have been his plan of action. + +There were a lot of burning questions which I had privately made up in +my mind to propound to the Wild Hunter, or the even wilder medicine +bear, upon the occasion of our next meeting. But when the lad was +standing before me, with bended bow and flashing eyes, the burning +importance of those questions did not appeal to me as forcibly as did +the urgent necessity of sheltering my body behind the friendly stone. To +be truthful, it must be admitted that the proposed inquiries were, for +the time, entirely forgotten, and I even breathed a sigh of relief when +the boy suddenly clambered up the face of the cliff, turned, gave us a +fierce look of defiance, made some quick energetic gestures with his +hand and disappeared. + +He scaled that precipitous rock with the rapidity and self-confidence of +a gray squirrel running up the trunk of a hickory tree, squirrel-like, +taking advantage of every crack, cranny and projection that could be +grasped by fingers or moccasin-covered toes. + +Not until the Indian had disappeared down a dry coulee did I venture +from the shelter of the protecting rock, or realize that my carefully +planned interview must be indefinitely postponed. + +With his arms folded across his chest, his blond hair sweeping his +shoulders, his blue eyes fixed upon a rocky rib of the mountain behind +which the boy had disappeared, Big Pete still stood like a statue. But +gradually the statuesque pose resolved itself into a more commonplace +posture, and the muscles of the face relaxed until the familiar twinkle +hovered around the corners of his eyes. "What did he say when he made +those motions, Pete?" + +"Waugh! he said he was not afraid of any whitefaced coyote like us." And +bringing forth his pipe, Pete filled it from the beaded tobacco pouch +which hung on his breast, and by means of a horn of punk, a flint and +steel, he soon had the pipe aglow and was puffing away as calmly as if +nothing unusual had occurred. Presently he exclaimed, "Gol durn his +daguerrotype, what good did it do him to throw that sheep down the +gulch? Reckon Le-loo and me could find a better grave for mutton chops +than that canyon bottom. The mountains didn't need the sheep an' we did. +But, I reckon it was his own sheep you killed, 'cause it had a porcupine +collar same pattern as the trimmings of his shirt." + +Turning his great blue eyes full upon me, he suddenly shot this inquiry, +"Be he bar, ecutock or werwolf?" + +"He is the finest adjusted, easiest running, most exquisitely balanced, +highest geared bit of human machinery I ever saw," I answered +enthusiastically. + +"Wall, maybe ye are right, Le-loo, an' maybe ye hain't; which is +catamount to saying, maybe it is a man and maybe it tain't." + +"Steady, Pete, old fellow, let us go slow; now tell me at what you're +driving?" I pleaded. + +"It looks to me this hea'-a-way," he explained. "I've seed his trail +onct or twice, an' I've seed him onct, but I never yet seed his trail +and the Wild Hunter's trail at the same time and place. 'Pears to me +that a man who, when it's convenient, kin make a wolf of hisself, might +likewise make a boy of hisself whenever he felt that way. Never heared +tell on enny real laid who cud climb like a squtton and shoot a bow +better nor a Robin Hood or Injun, and that's howsomever!" + +"Well, it does look 'howsomever,' and no mistake," I admitted, "and what +makes it worse, our dinner is at the bottom of this infernal gulch. +Come, let us be moving; the breeze from the snowfields chills me. Let us +hit his trail now while it is fresh." + +This was a simple proposition to make, but a difficult one to carry into +execution; for to all appearances that trail began upon the other side +of the chasm, and there was no bridge in sight by which we could cross. +Big Pete carefully put a cork-stopper in his pipe, extinguishing the +fire without wasting the unconsumed contents; he then carefully put his +briarwood away and began to uncoil a lariat from around his middle. As +he loosened the braided rawhide from his waist his gaze was roaming over +the opposite rocks. Presently he fixed his attention upon a pinnacle +which reared its cube-like form above the top of the opposite side of +the chasm; the latter was of itself much higher than the brink upon +which we stood. Swinging the loop around his head he sent it whistling +across the chasm, where it settled and encircled the projecting stone, +the honda striking the face of the cliff with a sullen thud. The rope +tightened, but when we both threw our weight on our end of the lariat to +try it, the cube-like pinnacle moved on its base. + +"I oughter knowed better than to try to lasso a piece of slide rock," +said Pete in disgusted tones, as he cast the end of the braided rawhide +loose and watched it for a moment dangling down the opposite side of the +canyon. + +"Now, Le-loo, we must get over this hole or lose the best lariat in the +Rocky Mountains. We kin look for that boy's trail on this side, for even +if he be an Ecutock, I'll bet my crooker bone 'gainst a lock of his hair +that he can't jump th' hole, an' I'll wager my left ear that he's got a +trail an' a bridge somewhar--'nless he turns bird and flops over things +like this," he added, with a troubled look. + +"Pete," said I, "never mind the bird business. I'll admit that there is +a lot of explanation due us before we can rightly judge on the events of +the past few weeks; still I think it may all be explained in a rational +manner; but what if it cannot? We have but one trip to make through this +world, and the more we see the more we will know at the end of the +journey. I am as curious as a prong-horned antelope when there is a +mystery, so put your nose to the ground, my good friend, and find the +spot where this Mr. Werwolf, witch, or bear flies the canyon, and maybe, +like the husband of 'The Witch of Fife,' we may find the 'black crook +shell,' and with its aid fly out of this 'lum." + +"I believe your judication is sound, Le-loo; stay where you be an' if he +hain't a witch I'll bet my front tooth agin the string of his moccasin +that I'll find the bridge, and I'll swear by my grandmother's hind leg +that that little imp will pay for our sheep yit." + +As Pete finished these remarks there was a sudden and astonishing change +in his appearance. His head fell forward, his shoulders drooped, his +back bowed and his knee bent. It was no longer the upright statuesque +Pete the Mountaineer, but Peter the Trailer, all of whose faculties were +concentrated upon the ground. With a swinging gait the human bloodhound +traveled swiftly and silently along the edge of the crevasse, noting +every bunch of moss, fragment of stone, drift of snow or bit of moist +earth, reading the shorthand notes of Nature with facility which far +excelled the ability of my own stenographer to read her own notes when +the latter are a few hours old. But a short time had elapsed before I +heard a shout, and, hurrying to the place where my big friend was +seated, I inquired, "Any luck?" + +"Tha's as you may call it. Here is wha' tha' boy jumped," he replied, +pointing to some marks on the stone which were imperceptible to me, "an' +tha's wha' he landed," he continued, pointing to a slight ledge upon the +face of the opposite cliff at least twenty feet distant. "He's a jumper, +an' no mistake--guess I might as well have my front tooth pulled, fur +I've lost my bet," soliloquized the trailer, as he sat on the edge of +the cliff, with his legs hanging over the frightful chasm. + +The ledge indicated by Big Pete as the landing place of the phenomenal +jumper might possibly have offered a foothold for a bighorn or goat, but +I could not believe that any human being could jump twenty feet to a +crumbling trifle of a ledge on the face of a precipice, and not only +retain a foothold there, but run up the face of the rock like a fly on a +window-pane. Yet I could see that something had worn the ledge at the +point indicated and when I stood a little distance away from the trail I +could plainly note a difference in color marking the course of the trail +where it led over the flinty rocks to the jumping place. + +"Wull, Le-loo! What's your opinion of the Ecutock now? Do he use wings +or ride a barleycorn broom?" asked Pete, with a triumphant smile. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Apparently there was no possible way by which we might hope to cross the +canyon, and I threw myself prone upon the top of the stony brink of the +chasm and peered down the awful abyss at the silver thread, shining in +the gloom of the shadows, which marked the course of a stream, and +wondered what the Boy Scouts of Troop 6 of Marlborough would do under +the circumstances. + +I studied the face of the opposite cliff in a vain search for some hint +to the solution of the problem before us, looking up and down from side +to side as far as allowed by the range of my vision. At length my +attention wandered to the perpendicular face of the cliff, on the top of +which my body was sprawled; there was an upright crack in the face of +the stone wall, and as I examined the fracture I saw that a piece of +wood had lodged in the crack; a piece of wood in a crevice in a rock is +not so unusual an occurrence as to excite remark; but when it occurred +to me that we were then far above the timber line, my interest and +curiosity were at once aroused. + +The end of the stick was within a short distance from my hand, and +reaching down I grasped the wood and brought forth, not a short club or +stick, as I thought to be concealed there, but a very long pole. The +result of my investigations was so unexpected that I came dangerously +near allowing the thing to slide through my fingers and fall to the +bottom of the canyon. It was a neatly-smoothed, slender piece of +lodge-pole pine which was brought to view, and it had a crooked root +nicely spliced to one end and bound tightly in place with rawhide +thongs. Big Pete was wholly absorbed in the trail, the study of which he +had resumed, and when I looked up he was down on all fours, minutely +studying the ground. Presently he cried, "Le-loo, tha' pesky lad ha' +been over wha' you be after sompen and he took it back tha' again afore +he made his jump! If you're any good you'll find what the lad was +after." + +"He was after his barleycorn broomstick," I replied, proudly, "and here +it is, although I must confess it is a pretty long one for a fellow of +his size, and it looks more like a giant Bo-Peep's crook than a witch's +broom." + +Big Pete eagerly snatched the pole from my hands and examined it +carefully. At length he said, "This hyer is the end used for the handle; +one can see by the finger marks, an' this crook is used to scrape stone +with, one kin see, with half an eye, by the way the end is sandpapered +off. Over tha' air some marks on the stone which look almighty like as +if they'd been made by the end of this yer hook slipping down the face +of the rock. + +"Now, I wonder wha' cud be up tha' on the top of the rock that the boy +wanted," mused Big Pete, and for a moment or so he stood in silent +thought; at length he exclaimed, "Why, bless my corn-shucking soul, if I +don't believe he's got a lariat staked out tha' an' crosses this ditch +same as we-uns aimed to do!" With that he began raking and scraping the +top of the opposite rock with the shepherd's crook, and presently there +came tumbling and twisting like a snake down the face of the cliff, a +long braided rawhide rope with a loop at the bottom end. + +"Waugh, Le-loo! tha's no witchcraft 'bout this 'cep the magic of +common-sense; but we hain't through with him yit!" By this time Pete had +the end of the rawhide rope in his hands and was testing the strength of +its anchorage upon the opposite cliff. The point where it was fastened +projected some distance over the ledge, where the supposed landing-place +was located, thus making it possible for one to swing at the end of the +rope from our side without danger of coming into too violent contact +with the opposite cliff. + +As soon as my big friend was satisfied that the rope was safe he +grasped it with his two hands, and with one foot in the loop and the +other free to use as a fender, he sailed across the abyss and landed +safely upon the crumbling ledge opposite. + +Holding fast to the rawhide rope with his hands and bracing his feet +against the rock, Pete could walk up the face of the cliff by going +hand-over-hand up the cable at the same time. He had almost reached the +top when I was horror-stricken to see a small hand and brown arm reach +over the precipice; but it was neither the grace nor the beauty of this +shapely bit of anatomy which sent the blood surging to my heart, but the +fact that the cold gray glint of a long-bladed knife caught my eyes and +fascinated me with the fabled "charm" of a serpent. The power of speech +forsook me, but with great effort I succeeded in giving utterance to the +inarticulate noise people gurgle when confronted in their sleep by a +shapeless horror. Big Pete heard the noise, but he was not unnerved +when he saw the knife, neither did he show any nightmare symptoms, +although he was dangling over the terrible abyss with a full knowledge +that it needed but a touch of the keen blade of that knife to sever the +straining lariat and dash him, a mangled mass, on the rocks below. The +danger was too real to give Pete the nightmare; there was nothing spooky +to him in the glittering knife blade, and only ghosts and the +supernatural could give Big Pete the nightmare. Calmly he looked at the +hand grasping the power of death with its strong tapering fingers. +Suddenly and in a firm, commanding voice he gave the order, "Drap tha' +knife!" + +Ever since I had been in the company of this masterful forest companion +I had obeyed his commands as a matter of course, and so was not +surprised to see the fingers instantly relax their grasp and the knife +go gyrating to the mysterious depths. In a few moments Big Pete was up +and over the edge of the rock and hidden from my view. + +Seizing the long-handled shepherd's crook, I caught the dangling end of +the lariat, and was soon scrambling up the face of the cliff, leaving a +trail which the veriest novice would not fail to notice and sending +showers of the crumbling stones down the path taken by the knife; it was +several minutes before I had clambered over the face of the projecting +crag and was safe across the black chasm which lay athwart our trail. + +If the Wild Hunter was indeed my father, he certainly was a woodcrafter +and scout to bring pride to a fellow's heart, for I doubted not that the +Indian boy was his retainer because the porcupine quill decorations on +his buckskin shirt had the same peculiar pattern as that on the wamus of +the Wild Hunter himself as well as on the collar of the pet sheep I had +killed, and also on the buckskin bag of gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Only those persons who have made solitary trips over snow-capped +mountain ridges can appreciate the overwhelming feeling of solitude that +I felt on looking about me. To whatever point of view I turned my eyes +were greeted with a tumbled sea composed of stupendous petrified +billows. + +The occasional fields of snow were the white froth of the stony waves +and the turquoise colored glacial lakes between the crags rather added +to the effect of an angry ocean than detracted from it. + +On a closer examination, some of the rocks appeared to be rough bits of +unfinished worlds still retaining the form they had when poured from the +mighty blast furnaces of the Creator. It was God's workshop strewn with +huge fragments, still bearing the marks of His mallet and chisel; yet +these cold barren wastes were the pasture lands of the shaggy-coated +white goats and the lithe-limbed bighorned sheep. + +Suddenly a shrill whistle pierced the air and with a jump I +instinctively looked for a vision of the Wild Hunter, but a moment later +realized that the sound I heard was but the warning cry of a whistling +marmot. Again the silence was broken, this time by a low rumbling sound +which increased in volume until it roared like a broadside from an old +forty-four-gun man-of-war, each crag and peak taking up the sound and +hurling it against its neighbor, until the reverberating noise seemed to +come from all points of the compass. + +Away in the distance I could see a white stream pouring from the +precipitous edge of an elevated glacier; this seeming mountain torrent I +knew was not water, but ice, thousands of tons of which having cracked +and broken from the edge of the glacier, were now being dashed over the +hard face of the rock into minute fragments. + +The white stream could be seen to decrease perceptibly in size, from a +broad sheet to a wide band, a narrow ribbon, a line, a hair and then +disappear altogether. While the distant mountains were still growling, +mumbling and playing shuttlecock with the echoes a timid chief hare went +hopping across a green half-acre of grass at the damp edge of a melting +snow patch in my path. Overhead a golden eagle sailed with a small +mammal in its talons; strange reddish-colored bumblebees busied +themselves in a bunch of flowers growing in a crevice in the rocks at my +feet. + +But my eye could discern no larger creatures in this Alpine pasture +land; not only could I see no sheep or goats, but not a sign of my +friend. He had vanished from the face of the picture as completely as if +the master artist had erased him with one mighty sweep of his paint +brush. + +When I viewed the lonely landscape with no human being in sight, I +confess to experiencing a creepy sensation and a strong inclination to +flee, but I knew not in what direction to run. I was in a rough +basin-shaped depression among the mountain peaks, and I sat on a large +rock with my back to a black chasm. From my elevated position I could +see a long distance. Strange fancies creep into one's head on such +occasions and play havoc with previous well-founded beliefs. To me, poor +fool of a tenderfoot, Big Pete had melted into the thinnest of thin air, +such as is only found in high altitudes, and somehow I wondered whether +the Wild Hunter had had anything to do with it. + +How could I tell that I myself was not invisible? + +I hauled myself up short there for I realized that such folly was not +good to have tumbling around in my brain. I figuratively pulled myself +back to earth, and to steady my nerves reached into my pack and brought +out several hard bits of bannock that I had stored there. I was +dreadfully hungry and I munched these with enthusiasm, meanwhile +keeping a sharp eye out for Big Pete, and between times making the +acquaintance of the little chief hare who, as he scuttled about among +the rocks, looked me over curiously. + +A short distance to my left was a huge obsidian cliff, the glassy walls +of which rose in a precipice to a considerable height. On account of its +peculiar formation, this crag of natural glass had several times +attracted my attention, and on any other occasion I would have been +curious enough to give it closer inspection. Once, as I turned my head +in that direction, I thought I heard a wild laugh and later concluded +that it was only imagination on my part, but now, as I again faced the +cliff, I unmistakably heard a shout and was considerably relieved to see +silhouetted against the sky the figure of Big Pete. + +"Hello, Le-loo," he shouted. "Through chasin' that 'ere spook Indian kid +be you? It's about time. Gosh-all-hemlocks! I been breakin' my neck +tryin' to keep up with you, doggone yore hide," shouted the big guide as +he started to climb down toward me. + +"Hello, Pete! You bet I'm through and I'm blamed near all in. Where are +we, do you know?" I called to him. + +"Top o' the world, my boy. Top o' the world, that's whar we be," he said +with a grin. + +I had seen no game since I had lost the bighorn, and the sunball was now +hung low in the heavens. It appeared to me that there was every prospect +for a supperless night, too. But Big Pete evidently had no such idea, +and he "'lowed" that he would "mosey" 'round a bit and kill some +varmints for grub. + +There seemed to be plenty of mountain lion signs, and I was surprised +that they should frequent such high altitudes, but Pete told me that +they were up here after marmots, and were all sleek and fat on that +diet. I would not have been surprised if my wild comrade had proposed a +feast on these cats. But it was not long before Pete's revolvers could +be heard barking and in a short time he returned with two braces of +white ptarmigan, each with its head shattered by a pistol ball, and I +confess these birds were more to my liking than cat meat. Up there 'mid +the snow fields the ptarmigan apparently kept their winter plumage all +year round, and their natural camouflage made them utterly invisible to +me, but to Pete, a white ptarmigan on a white snowfield seemed to be as +easy to detect as if the same bird had been perched on a heap of coal. I +had not seen one of these grouse since we had been in the mountains and +was not aware of their presence until my companion returned with the +four dead birds. + +Without wasting time, Pete began to prepare them for cooking. He soon +built a fire of some sticks which he gleaned from one or two twisted and +gnarled evergreens that had wandered above timber line and cooked the +birds over the embers. He gave a brace to me, and sitting on a boulder +with our feet hanging over the edge we ate our evening meal without salt +or pepper, and then each of us curled up like a grey wolf under the +shelter of a stone and slept as safely as if we were in our bed rolls +down in the genial atmosphere of the park in place of being in the +bitingly cold air of the bleak mountain tops. + +I, at least, slept soundly, and, thanks to the clothes Pete had so +kindly made for me, I do not remember feeling cold. When I awoke again +it was daylight and I could scarcely believe that I had been asleep more +than five minutes since my friend bade me good-night. Big Pete was up +before me, of course, and when I opened my eyes I found him cooking +breakfast and making tea in a tin cup over those economical fires he so +loved to build even when we were in the park where there was fuel enough +for a roaring bonfire. It's queer how difficult it is to make water boil +on a mountain top. + +"Well, now fer the witch-b'ar track agin," said Big Pete, wiping his +mouth. + +"Witch-bear!" I exclaimed. "Oh--yes--you don't mean to tell me you kept +following the track of that two-legged bear this far, Pete?" I +exclaimed, suddenly recalling that we had started out following a +mysterious moccasin trail that had later turned into bear tracks. + +"Sartin' sure. Didn't you figger out that that tha' b'ar war the Injun +or tha' Wild Hunter who put on moccasins made o' b'ar feet when he +thought we'd foller him?" asked Pete. + +"Yes, I did, but I forgot--maybe that ram was the Wild Hunter +himself--blame it. Nothing will astonish me in this country." + +"Yes, you fergot everything, even yore head when you started to foller +that tha' ram yesterday. But I didn't. I jest kept peggin' away at them +tha' rumswattel b'ar tracks and I followed 'em right up to yonder cliff. +They go on from tha', but I left 'em last night to come over by you. +Come on, we'll pick 'em up agin." And off he started. + +It was soon evident that it was an exceedingly active bear which we were +following for it could climb over green glacier ice like a Swiss guide +and over rocks like a goat. It led us a wild, wild chase over crevasses, +friable and treacherous stones covered with "verglass," over dangerous +couloirs and all the other things talked of in the Alps but forgotten in +the Rockies, to high elevations, where frozen snow combed over the +beetling crags, and the avalanches roared and thundered down the rocks, +dashing the fragments of stone over the lower ice fields. We were not +roped together like mountain climbers in the Swiss or Tyrolean Alps; we +got the real thrills by using our own hands and feet without ice pick, +staff or hobnailed shoes. + +But Big Pete never hesitated and I followed him without a word, and when +the trail led along the edge of a dizzy height I could look at the +middle of Big Pete's broad back and then my head would not swim. It +required quick and good judgment to tell just how much of a slant made a +loose stone unsafe to step upon. It was exciting and exhilarating work, +and the violent exercise kept me so warm that I carried most of my +clothes in a bundle on my back. Presently our path led us into a goat +trail, one of those century old paths made by shaggy white Alpine +animals, and used by them as regular highways. There were plenty of +fresh goat signs, and the broad path led us over a saddle mountain to +the verge of a cliff, beyond which it seemed impossible for anything but +birds to pursue the trail. Here we sat down to rest and to make a cup of +tea over a tiny fire, although wood was plentiful at this place, it +being in the timber line. + +Below us lay a valley, into which numerous small glaciers emptied their +everlasting supply of ice and blocks of stone, and horse-tail falls +poured from the melting snow fields. It might have presented enchanting +prospects to an iceman or a bighorn, or a Rocky Mountain goat, but for +two tired men it was a gloomy, dangerous and desolate place and I felt +certain that even a witch-bear would not choose such a dangerous place +as a camping ground. We had finished our tea and I was feeling somewhat +refreshed when I noticed a peculiar stinging sensation about my face; I +felt as if I had been attacked by some peculiar form of insect. But +there were none in sight. + +Pete, at this time, was some distance away prospecting the "lay of the +land." I saw him suddenly pull the cape of his wamus over his face, and +reasoned that he also had been attacked by these invisible insects. + +To my surprise, the big fellow seemed very much alarmed, and every time +I shouted to him it greatly excited him. As he was hurrying to me as +rapidly as possible, I desisted from further inquiry. When Big Pete +reached my side he pulled a handkerchief from around my neck and put it +over my mouth, making signs which I did not comprehend. At last he put +his muffled mouth to my ear and shouted through the cape of his wamus. +"Shut yer meat-trap or you're food for the coyotes. It is the WHITE +DEATH!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Clothes and stage trappings can neither add nor detract from our respect +for death. He is the same grim old gentleman, be his mouldy bones naked, +or clothed in robes of the most gaudy or brilliant hues. A blue death, a +red death or a yellow death is just as grizzly and awe-inspiring as one +of any shade of gray. Even a black death excites no emotions not touched +by the first name, for it is the dread messenger himself whom we respect +and not his fanciful robes of office. + +As far as I am personally concerned, I confess that Big Pete's painful +suggestion about the coyotes had more to do with keeping my mouth shut +than any terror inspired by the lily-like purity of the garments of the +white death; what made my bones ache was the thought of the wolves +gnawing them. + +Overhead the sun shone with an unusual brilliancy, and the atmosphere +had that peculiar crystalline transparency which kills space and brings +distant objects close to one's feet. Where then was the terrible white +messenger? Why must my head be muffled like a mummy? Why must I keep my +mouth shut, while the curiosity mill within me was working overtime +grinding out questions I should dearly love to ask? + +Again and again I looked around me to see where this ghostly white +terror might lurk, and now, as I gazed at the mountains, I was surprised +and annoyed to discover that the distant peaks were gradually +disappearing, being blotted out of the landscape before my eyes; a +ghost-like mantle was creeping over and enshrouding the mountains. + +Like Big Pete, the witch-bear, the ptarmigan and the stinging insects, +the mountains themselves had joined in the weird game and were donning +their fernseed caps of invisibility. Now the air around and about me +seemed to be filled with powdered dust of mica that glinted, sparkled +and scintillated in the sunshine. The breeze which was tossing about the +bright atoms loosened the handkerchief which swathed my nose and mouth, +and I was seized with a violent fit of coughing. + +It was no gentle hand which Big Pete laid on my shoulder before he again +bound the handkerchief around my face and motioned for me to follow him. + +Evidently my guide had been making good use of his time while I was +engaged in idle speculation, for he led me to a point about fifty yards +from the goat trail where there was a possible place to descend the +cliff to a ledge fifty feet below. By this time I had become enough of a +mountaineer to follow my guide over trails which a few weeks previous +would have seemed to me impossible to traverse, and after a hasty and +daring descent we reached the ledge, where I discovered the black mouth +of a cavern; into this hole Pete thrust me and led me back some twenty +yards into the darkness, ordered me to disrobe to the waist, then he +began a most vigorous and irritating slapping and rubbing of my chest; +so insistent and persevering was he that I really thought my skin would +be peeled from shoulders to waist. At last he desisted and ordered me to +put on all my clothes. + +"Are you mad, Pete? Has the rarefied air of the mountains upset your +brain? If not, will you kindly tell me what on earth all this means and +why we are hiding in this gloomy hole?" I asked as soon as I got the +breath back in my body. + +"Le-loo, you be a baby, and need a keeper to prevent you from committing +susancide several times a day. Tenderfoot? Well, I should say so. No one +but a short-horn from the East would keep his mouth open gulping in the +frozen fog, filling his warm lungs with quarts of fine ice. I reckon it +would be healthier to breathe pounded glass, fur it hain't sharper nor +half as cold. Why, Le-loo, tha' be a dose of fever and lung inflammation +in every mouthful of this frozen fog." + +He held my face between his two strong hands so that the faint light +that filtered through the murky darkness from the cavern's mouth dimly +illuminated my countenance, and as he watched the streams of +perspiration falling in drops from the end of my nose his frown relaxed +and a broad grin spread over his handsome features. + +"You're all right this time," he added "I calculate that I've melted all +the ice in your bellows, so just creep up tha' and sweat a bit more to +make it slick and sartin that we've beat the White Death this trip." I +did as he said, not because I wanted to sweat but because habit made me +obey the commands of my guide. + +Evidently this cavern had been in constant use by some sort of animals +as a sort of stable for many, many years, and I have had sweeter +couches, but by this time my rough life had transformed me into +something of a wild animal myself, and it was not long before I was +comfortably dozing. During the time that I slept I was dimly conscious +of being surrounded by a crowd of people; as the absurdity of this +forced itself through my sleep-befuddled brain and I opened wide my +eyes, what I saw made me open my eyes still wider. + +I was about to start to my feet when I felt Big Pete's restraining hand +on my shoulder, and not until then did I realize that the cave was +crowded with the shaggy white Rocky Mountain goats, and not weird, +white-bearded old men. Few persons can truly say that they have been +within arm's length of a flock of these timid and almost unapproachable +animals; but we had invaded their secret place of refuge, and they had +not, as yet, taken alarm at our presence in their castle. It may be that +the frozen fog had driven the goats to the cavern for shelter, and it is +possible that never having been hunted by man, these animals feared the +White Death more than they did human beings, and did not realize the +dangerous character of their present visitors; whatever the cause of +their temerity, the fact remains that men and goats slept that night in +the cavern together. + +I did not awake next morning until after the departure of the goats and +opened my eyes to find myself alone in the cavern. + +Having all my clothes on, no time was wasted at my toilet, but I made my +way directly to the doorway and was gratified to discover that Big Pete +was roasting some kid chops over the hot embers of a fire. + +After breakfasting on the remains of the kid, Big Pete arose and scanned +the sky, the horizon and the mountain tops, and turning to me said, +"Now, Le-loo, that Wild Hunter-b'ar-wolf man has fooled us by doubling +on his trail an' as it hain't him we're after now but the trail out of +the mountains, I mean to go by sens-see-ation, but you must keep yer +meat-trap shut and not speak, 'cause soon as I know I'm a man I hain't +got no more sense than a man. I must say to myself, 'Now, Pete, you're a +varmint and varmints know their way even in a new country.' Then I just +sense things and trots along 'til I come out all right." + +I had often heard of this wonderful instinct of direction, the homing +instinct of the pigeon, which some Indians, Africans, Australian black +boys and a few white men still possess; I say still possess because it +is evident that it was once our common heritage, a sort of sixth sense +which has been lost by disuse. That Big Pete possessed this sixth sense +I little doubted, and it was with absorbing interest that I watched the +man work himself into the proper state of mind. + +For quite a time he stood sniffing the air and looking around him while +his body swayed with a slow motion. Then suddenly, as if he had seen +something or as if answering the call of something, he started off +almost at right angles to our trail, acting very much like a hound on an +old scent, but keeping up a pace that tried my endurance. + +It was truly wonderful the way this man, in a trance-like state, was +guided by an invisible power over the most dangerous ground, but no one, +after a careful survey, could have selected a better trail than that +chosen by Big Pete. On and on we went, scrambling over rock-skirting +precipices and crumbling ledges. A dense fog settled around us, making +each step hazardous, but with an instinct as true and apparently +identical with that of our four-footed brothers, my guide kept the same +rapid pace for hours, and then, all of a sudden, came to an abrupt stop. + +For several seconds he stood in his tracks, his body keeping the same +swaying motion, but after a short while he crept cautiously forward in +the fog, with me at his heels, and we found ourselves at the edge of a +giant fault, similar to the one in Darlinkel Park, but there was +apparently no pass to let us down the towering precipices to the valley +below. + +"Well, that was a wonderful trip," I cried. + +"Shut up!" shouted Pete savagely, but I had spoken and the spell was +broken; reason, not instinct, must now lead us. + +Vapor and clouds concealed the low grounds from our view; however, we +were determined not to spend another night in the mountains, so while I +rested and regained my breath, Big Pete went on to explore the ledges. + +Presently my guide hove in sight and motioned me to follow him; he led +me to a place where another goat trail went over the edge of the +precipice, this time not in ten and fifteen feet jumps, but by a steep +diagonal path. Down the treacherous trail we slipped and slid with a +wall of rocks on one side and death in the form of a bluish white space +on the other side. + +As we were clambering carefully around the face of a big rock Pete +suddenly whispered that he smelt a "Painter," and upon peering around +the corner we found ourselves face to face with a large cat; the animal +was crouching upon a flat-topped projecting stone immediately in our +path. That it was not the puma of the low-lands, its reddish-colored +coat and great size proclaimed. It was a so-called mountain lion and a +grand specimen of its kind. + +The cat's small head lay between its muscular forepaws, its hair adhered +closely to its body, its long tail was full and round and waved slowly +from side to side, while its eyes gleamed like electric sparks. + +We were in a most awkward position; our guns were swung by straps over +our backs, so that we might use our hands, and we were clinging to the +face of the big rock while our toes were seeking foothold in the +treacherous shale of the trail. To loosen our hands was to fall +backwards into the bluish white sea of unknown depths, and to retrace +our steps was out of the question. + +Pete often expressed the opinion that no predaceous creature, from a +spider up to a cougar, will attack its prey while the latter is +immovable. + +As a corollary to this proposition he said that when a person is +suddenly confronted by a dangerous wild beast, the safest plan to pursue +is to remain perfectly quiet, or, as he quaintly put it, "to peetrify +yourself in the wink of an eye." + +Truth to tell, on this occasion I found no difficulty in following his +directions. I was "peetrified" by fear; my feet were cold and numb, +chills in wavelets washed up and down my spine, a sudden rash seemed to +be breaking out all over my body and the skin on my back felt as if it +had been converted into goose-flesh. + +Had we been able to travel a few feet further we would have both found a +comparatively safe footing and had our arms free and a fighting chance +with the big catamount in place of hanging suspended to the face of the +rock like two big, helpless, terrified bats. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +With an imperceptible movement, as steady and almost as slow as that of +a glacier, my guide twisted his neck until his face was turned from the +puma and the side of the mouth pressed against the flat surface of his +rock. I was crowded up against Big Pete, who occupied a position but +slightly in advance and a little above me. My agony of fear having +somewhat subsided I ventured to steal a momentary glance at my comrade's +face. To my unutterable surprise I discovered a whimsical twinkling at +the corners of his eyes and a mirthful expression of mischief in his +countenance. This was incomprehensible to me, for I could imagine no +more awe-inspiring position than the one we then occupied. + +While my thoughts were still busy trying to fathom the cause of Pete's +untimely mirth, the long-drawn howl of the big timber wolf floated over +the valley and sent a new lot of shivers down my back. It was the +rallying call used by the wolves to call the band together when game is +in sight. The sound increased in volume until it reverberated among the +crags like the voice of a winter's storm, and then it gradually died +away. Big Pete was not only a good mimic but he proved himself to be a +ventriloquist of no mean ability; by the help of the rock against which +his cheek was pressed he had been able to throw his voice off into space +in such a manner that it baffled me for several moments. + +The gray wolves are old and inveterate enemies of the panther or cougar, +hunting the cats on all occasions. Consequently all panthers know the +meaning of that wild lonesome howl, the assembling call, as well as the +oldest wolf in the pack, and its effect upon the lion in our path was +instantaneous. The hair, which had a moment before been as slick as if +it were oiled, now rose upright until the fuzzy hide gave the animal's +body the appearance of being twice its original size. + +Scarcely had the big cat vacated the path before we scrambled to the +firm foothold and I breathed a great sigh of relief when it was reached. +But Big Pete was convulsed with suppressed laughter at the practical +joke he had played on the mountain lion. + +"Gosh darn my magnolia breath! That painter went as if he had a ball of +hot rorrum tied to his tail," cried my guide. + +It was difficult for me to realize that it was Big Pete himself who had +given vent to that shuddering howl, and now the danger was over I +pleaded with him to give another exhibition of his skill in wolf calls. + +The good-natured fellow at first seemed reluctant to repeat his +performance, but at length consented and put his hands to his mouth, +forming a trumpet, then bent forward his body, stooping so low that his +face was was below his waist, after which he began again that wild cry +which so closely resembles in sentiment and tone the shriek of the wind. +As the sound increased in volume the man waved his head from side to +side; continuing the movement he gradually assumed an upright pose, and +ended by making a low obeisance as the sound died away. + +The imitation was perfect and I was expressing my delight and +appreciation when my ear caught a distant sound which put a sudden stop +to our conversation. + +Was it the wind which I now heard? No! there was not a breath of air +stirring, neither was it an echo. There could be no doubt about it, the +long-drawn sepulchral howl which filled and permeated the shivering air +was an answering cry to Big Pete's call. + +Scarcely had the sound waves faded away when in the mysterious distance +came another and another answer, until it seemed as if a troop of lost +souls were vocalizing their misery. I unslung my gun and loosened my +revolvers in their fringed holsters, but Big Pete only shrugged his +shoulders and said, + +"Come, let's be moseying. 'Taint nothin' but wolves." A fact of which I +was as well aware of as Pete, but I, tenderfoot that I was, could not +treat howling of wolves with the same unconcern as did my guide. + +We soon reached a point where the goat trail turned again up the +mountain and we forsook that ancient path for a diagonal fracture very +similar to the one by which we had ascended, which led down the face of +the precipice "slantendicularwise," Big Pete said, and soon plunged into +the bluish gray sea which filled the valley. We were now enveloped in a +dense fog, which added materially to the dangers of the journey. I had +had so many thrills in the last few moments that my nerves were becoming +dull and failed to vibrate on this occasion, so that descending the +cliff in a fog by a diagonal fracture in the rock became only an +incident of our journey; this trail, however, was wider than the one by +which we ascended. + +The Rocky Mountains are full of new sensations and I got a new one when +I discovered that the fog through which we had been traveling was in +reality a cloud, and, all unexpectedly, we emerged into the clear mellow +light below the floating vapor. It was an enchanting scene which met our +eyes; below us stretched a beautiful valley. + +For the first time in months I saw a human habitation. The blue smoke +from the chimney ascended slowly in a tall column and then floated +horizontally in stratified layers. There were fields of ripe grain, +orchards, groves, pasture lands and a winding stream fringed with +poplars, which flowed in a tortuous course across the valley. As I +feasted my eyes on the peaceful scene a great longing took possession of +my soul. + +Big Pete, too, was lost in thought, conjured up by the scene below us. +He stood leaning on his rifle with his eyes fixed on the enchanting +picture; so full of unconscious dignity was his pose, so immovable stood +the mountain man that he looked like a grand statue done by a master +hand. + +But what thoughts were conjured up in the guide's brain by the +unexpected sight of this ranch could not be interpreted from the +expression of his countenance, for that showed no more trace of emotion +than an American Indian at the torture stake, or the marble face of a +Greek god. Presently he shifted his pose, threw back his head, and Big +Pete's eyes were fixed on the valley in front of us, as with distended +nostrils he sniffed the mountain air, his brows contracted to a frown, +his eyes lost their gentle angelic look and seemed to change from China +blue to a cold steel color, and his tightly closed mouth had a stern +expression about the corners which appeared altogether out of keeping +with the occasion. + +"Rot my hide!" he exclaimed, "if I hain't had a neighbor all these years +and never knowed it. Waugh! Some emigrant--terrification seize him!--has +found another park an' squatted, t'ain't more'n eight miles as a crow +flies from mine, nuther, Le-loo." He looked at the sun and muttered. +"Hang me, but 'tis t'other end of my own park," then he paused a moment +and added fiercely, "if these geysers know when they are well off, +they'll steer shy of Darlinkel Park. If I catch 'em scoutin' 'round my +claim, I'll send 'em a-hoppin'." + +"Bless me, you are neighborly," exclaimed a voice in smooth, even tones. + +"What!" said Pete, looking sternly at me. "Did you speak?" + +"I said nothing," I replied. + +Big Pete's countenance changed and he ran his hands over the cartridges +in his belt in the old familiar manner, and with a motion quicker than I +can describe it, whipped out his revolvers and wheeled about face, at +the same time snapping out the words, "Throw up your hands!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +We were standing on the surface of a flat table-rock, which jutted out +from the face of the towering cliff and overhung the valley that was +spread out like a map beneath us. About twenty feet back from the edge +of the rock was a pile of debris heaped up against the face of the +cliff; but the remaining surface of the stone was clean bare and +weather-beaten. The talus against the cliff was composed of loose +fragments of stone and other products of wash and erosion. This was +overgrown with a thicket of stunted shrubs, wry-necked goblin thistles +and murderous devil's clubs. These bludgeon-shaped plants, thickly +covered with sharp thorns, reared aloft their weapons as if in menace to +all living things; the unstable ground and thorny thicket formed the +only shelter where we could be ambushed in the rear, and it was not a +likely spot to be chosen for such a purpose by man or beast. + +When Big Pete wheeled about face with his trusty revolvers in hand, I +quickly followed his example, and our mutual surprise may be imagined +when we found ourselves gazing in the faces of a semicircle of gigantic +wolves. The animals were squatting on their haunches at the foot of the +talus, their wicked slant eyes fixed upon us and their red tongues +lolling out from their cavernous mouths. + +I cannot tell why, whether it was the state of my nerves or the effect +of the rare air of the high altitude, or what, but I felt no fear at +facing this strange wolf pack. Indeed, to me they appeared all to be +laughing and their red tongues lolled from their open mouths in a very +humorous fashion. + +The whole scene appeared to me to be exceedingly funny and, in a spirit +of utter reckless bravado, I doffed my fur cap, with exaggerated +politeness made a low bow, and, addressing the largest and most +devilish-looking wolf in the pack, exclaimed, + +"Ah! this is Monsieur Loup-Garou, I believe. Pardon me, Monsieur, but +did you speak a moment since?" + +But Big Pete Darlinkel looked at the wolves, and great beads of sweat +stood on his forehead. It was his turn to have the shivers. There was no +more color in his face than in a peeled turnip. His gun shook in his +left hand like a aspen, while the spangled gun in his right hand dropped +its muzzle towards earth and there was scarcely strength enough in his +nerveless fingers to have pulled a hair-trigger. + +Pete's great baby-blue eyes turned helplessly to me; but it was now my +innings, and with a cheery voice I cried, + +"Why, Pete, old fellow, what ails you?" Then meanly quoting his own +words, I added, "They hain't nothing but wolves!" + +There is not a shadow of a doubt that Pete expected the wolves to answer +me with human voice, and I am willing to confess that, even to me, +there seemed to be no other alternative for the slant-eyed bandits to +pursue. But for the present they appeared to prefer to maintain a solemn +silence. + +The middle wolf had been looking intently at us for some time before a +well-modulated voice said, + +"I have answered your call, gentlemen; how can I serve you?" + +I was more than half expecting some such answer, but if it had not been +so evident that Big Pete was badly frightened and had lost all his +self-possession, I should have thought he was again practising his art +as ventriloquist. + +Of course I deceived myself. The wolves had no more power of speech than +a house-dog. But I really thought the wolves were doing the talking +until I caught sight of a tall man of handsome and distinguished +appearance seated among the weird goblin-thistles just above the wolves. +The stranger appeared to be a man of almost any age; he might be young +but, if old, he was wonderfully well preserved. He was clad in a +light-colored buckskin suit of clothes, edged and trimmed with fur, a +fur cap on his head and moccasins on his feet. And I noticed, with a +start, that he had that same red porcupine quill ornament on his hunting +shirt that the young Indian wore. + +When I saw how his dress blended perfectly with his surroundings I +excused myself for not sooner detecting him. I could not help but admire +his easy grace and the sense of reserved strength in his strong figure. +The calmness and repose forcibly reminded me of the mountain lion we had +lately encountered. + +"You kin hackle me and card my sinews, if it hain't the Wild Hunter +himself an' his pack," said Big Pete under his breath. + +The color now began to return to his face and at the recollection of his +late rude words the big fellow blushed like a school girl. Gradually he +recovered his self-possession, and, doffing his cap, made a low bow as +graceful and as courtly as that of any polished courtier. This was an +entirely new side to my friend's character and I listened with interest +when he said, + +"Sir, whether you be loup-garou, werwolf, witch-b'ar or all them to +onct, I do not care. What I want ter say is ef that tha' ranch yander be +your'n, you may hamstring me ef I hain't proud to have such a man for a +neighbor. Whatever else you be yore no shavetail or shorthorn, an' +that's howsomever. I don't mind sayin' that yore a better shot an' all +around hunter an' mountain man than Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, Davy +Crockett, Kit Carson, Bison McClean and Jim Baker all rolled in one. +Yore the slickest woodsman on the divide. I'm powerful proud of you as a +neighbor and would be still prouder ef I might call you my friend." + +Our strange visitor displayed a beautiful white set of teeth as a frank +smile played over his smooth face. But his only answer at that moment +was an inclination of his head and a muttered command to the wolves, +which they instantly obeyed by silently disappearing in the underbrush. + +After a pause the tall stranger came forward, and, removing his own cap, +made a bow even more courtly than that of Big Pete, as he thus replied: +"Sir, I feel highly honored at this flattering expression of +commendation. I can honestly say that it is the greatest compliment I +have ever received from a stranger, and," he added with another winning +smile, "you are the first stranger with whom I have held converse in +nearly twenty years. That I am not unfriendly I have already proved by +some trifling services, but the honor of the acquaintance is mine." + +After the formalities of our meeting were over the stranger stood for a +few moments with his chin resting on his breast. He was evidently +thinking over some serious subject. His head was bare, his fur cap being +in his hands, and his hands locked behind his back. A mass of light +colored hair fell over his forehead and shoulders. + +Presently he looked at us again, with that same grave smile on his face, +and said that if we would consent to be blindfolded and trust ourselves +implicitly to his care, he would be glad to take us to his home and +would feel honored if we should choose to visit him. + +"You can proceed no further on this trail for it ends here, and not even +a goat can go beyond the rock on which we stand, therefore we must +retrace our steps a few hundred yards," he explained, as he apologized +for his strange proposition. He securely bandaged our eyes with our own +handkerchiefs, and after turning us around until I at least had lost all +sense of direction, he placed thongs in our hands, and then we +discovered that we were to be led by some sort of animals, presumably +wolves. Whatever else they were, they proved to be careful and sagacious +leaders. + +After a short distance of rough climbing where we constantly needed the +personal help of our mysterious host, we began to descend and soon our +feet told us that we were traveling on a comparatively smooth though +steep trail. Now and again our guide would speak to warn us of stones or +other obstructions in our path, but, with the exception of these +necessary words of caution and brief words expressing approval or +reproof to the animals, we made the journey in silence and in due time +reached the bottom, and our feet told us that we were walking on a level +shale-covered path. + +At this point the creatures leading us were dismissed and we could hear +them scrambling back over the trail. We heard the bleating of sheep, the +lowing of cattle and all the multiplicity of noises so familiar on a +well-stocked farm, and we could easily detect the different odors as +familiar and characteristic as the noises. We enjoyed to its fullest +extent the novelty of the homely sensations aroused by the smell of +new-mown hay and the familiar medley of sounds peculiar to the farm. + +In due time we found ourselves at the foot of a couple of wooden steps, +which we ascended, and, crossing a broad veranda, entered a doorway. +Here we stood awaiting further commands in utter ignorance of our +surroundings. Of course, we surmised we were in the ranch house which we +saw from the table rock, but this was only a surmise. + +"Gentlemen," said the strange old man, "you are welcome to my home, and +allow me to add that you are the only white men who have ever crossed +the threshold of this house." + +As he ceased speaking he removed the bandages from our eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +It was a strange place, indeed, in which I found myself. Our eyes were +unbandaged after we entered the portal of the ranch house, and when Big +Pete and I turned toward our guide, we were facing in a direction that +gave us a sweeping view of the entire ranch. And what we saw made us +marvel. + +This farm, between the towering, almost insurmountable mountains, had +evidently been wrenched from what two decades before had been as much of +a wilderness as the Darlinkel Park across the divide. Timber clothed the +mountains on either hand but the fertile valley bottom was as rural as a +district of the middle west. On one hand stretched acres and acres of +ripened grain. Beyond was pasture land dotted with strange whitefaced +animals, which later proved to be hybrid buffalos, a strange cross +between wild and domestic cattle.[3] In other pastures and on the +hillsides I could see goats and sheep, and these too were evidently a +cross breed of wild and domestic stock, the goats having a very strange +resemblance to the fleet-footed shaggy old fellows we had seen on the +mountains, while the sheep closely resembled usual domestic sheep. + + [Footnote 3: Since that time the late Buffalo Jones has bred + buffalo and domestic cattle and called the offspring "catelow."] + +There were stables, too, and corrals, all made of logs, as was the ranch +house, but what seemed very strange to me was the fact that there were +no horses in sight. All of the animals at work in the fields were those +strange hybrid buffalo-oxen, all save one, a single, lame and apparently +almost blind burro that I saw lying in the sun. From his grayness about +the head I had little doubt that he was of great age. + +There were hordes of strange poultry too,--strange to me at least, for +never had I expected to find flocking together wild turkeys, Canadian +geese, black ducks, wood ducks, and mallards (all with wings clipped so +that they never again could fly), sage hens, quail, spruce-grouse, +partridge, ptarmigan and western mountain quail. All seemed perfectly at +home and comfortably domesticated. + +Beyond the poultry houses was still another outhouse, a long, low, log +building before which was a lawn. On the lawn were all manner of perches +and roosts and on these, sunning themselves and preening their feathers, +were several types of predaceous birds, ranging from huge and powerful +female eagles to smaller hawks and true falcons. This evidently was the +Wild Hunter's falconry. + +Another thing that made an instant impression upon me was the number of +men at work about the place. The workmen were all, without an exception, +Indians, and as they moved about silently, their stoic, almost +expressionless faces held a decided look of contentment, a few of them +turned toward the porch with a frank, honest stare. There was no +evidence of fear or restraint in their actions but they always gave the +wolf dogs plenty of room as they passed them. These black beasts were +ugly, snarling things that showed no love for anyone; on the least +provocation menacing growls rumbled in their throats. + +What manner of place was this that we had permitted ourselves to be led +into? Indeed, what manner of man was this strange host of ours? I shot a +sidelong glance at him and it seemed to me as if I caught a strange, +hunted look in his eyes, and a sad smile on his handsome but grim +countenance. A slight feeling of fear crept into my heart. Could this +strange man be my father? For some reason he certainly did attract me +and excite my sympathy, yet I stood in awe of him. The strangeness of my +surroundings, too, settled upon me. I turned toward Pete and I had a +premonition of evil. I could see that he too was affected the same way. +The valley was an earthly paradise, the Wild Hunter a kindly gentleman, +what then was it that gave me an uncomfortable and uneasy feeling? I +was eager to be alone with Pete for I knew that he would have some +interesting observations to make. + +"I am disappointed, gentlemen, you say nothing. Isn't my ranch +interesting to you?" demanded the Wild Hunter, with a smile. In a low +smooth voice he gave some orders to a young Indian who was walking +toward the stables. The Indian instantly snapped into action and hurried +away as if one of the black wolf dogs were snapping at his heels, and I +felt certain that it was the youth whom we had been trailing. + +A hurried and very unpleasant thought flashed through my mind: What was +the source of the power the Wild Hunter held over these Indians? They +were not slaves in this mountain-surrounded prison; this grim, forceful +but kindly wild man did not hold them through fear. He always smiled +when he greeted them, but he never smiled at his wolves; when giving +them orders or even looking at them, the expression of his face was +stern and almost fierce. But the man had asked a question. He was +expecting an answer. + +"It is a wonderful place," I managed to stammer; "who could conceive of +such a remarkable ranch buried here in the heart of the wilderness?" + +"It's a ring-tailed snorter, hamstring me if it hain't," said Big Pete +in an attempt to be enthusiastic. + +The man's face glowed with pleasure. + +"You are the first white men to see it. I think I have achieved +something here in the wilds, thanks a great deal to Pluto and his +strain." + +"Eh, what?" exclaimed Big Pete in alarm. + +"To--to--whom," I gasped, for to have the man actually confess an +alliance with Satan rather startled me also. + +The Wild Hunter chuckled in an amused manner. + +"Thanks to Pluto, I said. But Pluto is that black wolf-dog over there, +nevertheless. I think that the name 'Pluto' fits his character to a +nicety." + +He pointed to the massive, deep-chested, long-haired, long-limbed, +vicious looking leader of his black wolf pack where it was chained to a +post. The great animal glared at his master when his name was mentioned. +He crouched twenty feet away with his slanting green eyes fixed +constantly on his master's face and in them ever flared a fierce, wicked +fire. + +"Yes, you son of Satan, you and your hybrid whelps have helped me do all +this in spite of the fact that you hate me, and would love to tear me +limb from limb. You splendid, ugly brute, you are insensible to +kindness!" + +I noticed that whenever he looked the wolf in the face his own +countenance became grim and his eyes exceedingly fierce and not unlike +the wolf itself in expression. + +[Illustration: "I think the name 'Pluto' fits his character to a +nicety"] + +"He hates me," he continued, turning to us, "because of his ancestors. +In him is the blood of a Great Dane noted for its strength, size and +ferocity, a fierce brute which I brought over the mountains with me many +years ago. Pluto's mother was a pure black wolf of a mean disposition, +and his father the half-breed son of a Great Dane and a she-wolf. He is +the fiercest and most bloodthirsty beast in the whole pack, he hates me +with the intense hatred of his wolfish nature, he hates me because he +knows that I am the master of the pack, the real leader, and he is +jealous. Since his puppy days he has watched for a chance to kill me; +twice he nearly succeeded--the time will no doubt come when it will be +his life or mine. Yet because of his wonderful strength, endurance and +sagacity, I could almost love him. + +"His breed does not want to recognize any master. But _I am_ his +master!" cried the Wild Hunter as his eyes flashed and he struck himself +on his chest, "and he knows it. The only way, however, that I keep my +power over him and his pack is by forcing myself to think every time I +speak to them, now I am going to _kill you_, and brutes though they are +they can read my mind and fear me. Besides which self-interest helps a +little towards their loyalty. With me for a leader there is always a +kill at the end of the hunt, and they know that they come in for a share +of the food. + +"Sometimes I fear the wolves will break loose and attack my Indians, +which I would very much regret, for the Redmen are faithful fellows and +we form a happy community. The Indians look upon me as Big Medicine +because I can control these medicine wolves." + +Big Pete looked at the man with open admiration, a man who by the sheer +power of his will could control a band of wolves, any one of which was +powerful enough to kill an ox, certainly was a man to please the wild +nature of Big Pete. "But," said Pete, "you say Pluto has helped you. +How?" he asked. + +"How," exclaimed the Wild Hunter, "why, gentlemen, by governing the pack +as savage as himself. The pack is the secret of my whole success; my +power over them first won the allegiance of the Indians, won their +admiration and their respect. They know that I could turn those wolves +upon them at any moment, but they also know that I would not think of +doing such an act and they are human and love me; the wolves are brutes +and not susceptible to kindness. The wolves hate the Redmen as they hate +me, but they supplied us all with food, they secured for us our winter +meat while the men worked to build houses and clear the land, and thus +made it possible for us to start this settlement. They even acted as +pack animals for us, each of them carrying as much as seventy pounds in +weight on their backs. But be on your guard, gentlemen, be on your +guard! Remember that you are strangers to the wolves and they will not +hesitate, if the opportunity offers, to rend you and even devour you." + +A moment later his expression changed. + +"Enough of this," he exclaimed in pleasanter tones, "come, dinner is +served," and turning, he led the way through the broad doorway of the +log ranch house into an almost sumptuously furnished dining room where +two silent, soft-footed Indians began immediately to serve a truly +remarkable meal. + +"He may be lo-coed," whispered Pete to me as we took our places at the +table, "but I'll tell the folks, he is a master looney alright. He knows +how to make Injuns love him and varmints fear him, he kin pack all his +duffle in my bag, he need not cough up eny money when he's with me. +Reckon we be alright here, but waugh! we've gotter watch tha' black wolf +pack!--yes and also that young Indian whose ram you shot; it seems he +looks after the wolves and sees to it that they are fastened up in their +corral. I wouldn't want him to be sort of careless, you know." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +What a dining room that was! All of logs, high ceilinged, with smoked +rafters stained like an old meerschaum pipe. It reminded me of a wealthy +man's hunting lodge in Maine, perhaps, rather than the abode of a wild +man. There was a huge yawning fireplace at one end, above which was the +finest specimen of an elk's head I have ever seen. There were other +heads, too, prong-horned antelope, beautiful bison heads, remarkable +specimens of bighorn sheep and mountain goats, there were buffalo robes +and wolf robes strewn over the floor, and there were abundant well +stocked gun cases on every hand. + +But conspicuous among the collection of firearms was one, kept apart, +polished and cleaned, and on a rack made of elk horns handily placed +just above the big mantle. It was beautifully though not elaborately +made, with a fine damascus barrel of tremendous length, a lock and set +trigger that showed expert handicraft, and stock of beautifully polished +birds-eye maple. An expert would have known immediately that it was a +first-water product of an expert gunsmith. + +Big Pete noticed it as soon as I did and he could not keep his eyes from +roving to it occasionally during the meal. + +"You may scalp me, stranger, fer sayin' it, but I'd like mightily well +to heft that tha' shooting iron o' your'n and examine it when we git +through with chuck," he said. + +Our strange host looked up at the rifle, then searchingly at Big Pete. + +"I don't mind showing it to you, but you must not touch it," he said +finally. + +"I reckon I wouldn't hurt it none. I've handled guns before," said Big +Pete shortly, and I could see that he was piqued at the man's attitude. + +"Guess you wouldn't, but I've made it a rule never to let strange hands +touch that rifle," said the strange man, and there was a grimness about +his tone that forbade quibbling. + +"Huh, well I can't say as perhaps yore not right about yore shootin' +hardware at that," said Pete. Then after glancing at it again, he added, +"a hunter's gun and a woodsman's ax should never be trusted in strange +hands. Bet a ten spot it's a Patrick Mullen. Hain't it?" + +The name of my kinsman, the famous gunsmith, brought a sudden +realization that Mullen was my own family name. + +The mention of the gunsmith seemed also to have a curious effect on the +old man. His face grew red under the tan and his brow wrinkled and I +could see his cold blue eyes scrutinizing Big Pete closely. Finally he +said bluntly, + +"It is, and it's worth a thousand dollars." + +"A thousand dollars!" I exclaimed, "a thousand dollars?" + +"Yes," cried the old man almost fiercely, "yes, yes, and it is my gun. +He gave it to me, he did--to me and not to Donald. He--" + +He stood up suddenly as if he intended to stride over and seize the gun, +to protect it from us but as quickly sat down again and buried his face +in his hands, and I could see him biting his lips as if he were +attempting to control his feeling. + +As for me, quite suddenly a great light seemed to dawn. This strange old +man was mentioning names that were familiar--that meant worlds to me. I +leaned toward him eagerly. Big Pete stood quietly listening, a silent +but interested spectator. + +"Did you know Donald Mullen, a brother to the famous gunsmith? Tell me, +did you know him? I have come all the way--" + +I stopped in wonder. Never in all my life do I ever expect to witness +such a pitiful expression of anguish pictured so vividly on the human +countenance as it was on the face of the Wild Hunter. + +"What," he whispered, "did you know him?" + +"He was my father," I answered simply. + +For a moment the Wild Hunter looked at me intently, then said, "I +believe you, you favor him somewhat." He then came forward as if to +shake my hand, but changed his mind and sat down with a forced and wan +smile. + +"Did I know Don Mullen? Did I? He was my partner, my bunkee for many +years and on many prospecting trips, a better bunkee no man ever had, +but he is dead now, dead! dead! dead! been dead for a dozen years. He +was killed by an avalanche. A better partner no man ever had," he +murmured and relaxed into silence. + +My efforts to get more information of my parents were of no avail. The +Wild Hunter turned the conversation in other directions. + +Of course, the knowledge that my real father was dead, had been dead a +long time, caused me a feeling of sadness, yet strangely enough the +little knowledge that I had gleaned from this strange old man brought a +sense of relief to me. I think that it must have been a certain sense +of satisfaction to know that this queer man was not my father. + +But if he was not Donald Mullen, who was he? That question kept me +pondering and for the rest of the meal I was silent, speculating on this +strange situation, nor did I have an opportunity to note, as Big Pete +did, the tearful, kindly glances that the Wild Hunter shot at me now and +then. + +Still, for all, he was sociable, extremely sociable, and talkative, too, +but I fancy now as I recall it, he was simply keeping the conversation +in safe channels, for it was very apparent that the rifle and his former +mining partner were painful subjects. + +Dinner over, we all went out onto the porch of the ranch house, where we +talked while the twilight lasted. At least Big Pete and the Wild Hunter +talked as they smoked two of those mysterious long cigars, but I was +still silent because of the many strange thoughts that were romping +through my mind. + +Soon darkness settled down and Big Pete began to yawn. I also was +heavy-eyed, and presently the Wild Hunter clapped his hands and summoned +a leather-skinned old Indian to whom he gave brief low command in the +Mewan Indian tongue, as I was afterwards informed by Big Pete, then +turning to us he said in his fascinating soft voice: + +"It will probably be a novelty for both of you gentlemen to again sleep +in a bed between sheets and under a roof. I doubt whether you will enjoy +it even though the sheets are clean linen which were spun and woven by +my noble Indians. Moose Ear, here, will conduct you to your rooms and I +will take a turn about the place before retiring to see that all is +well, and also to see that my black wolf pack is securely confined +within the wolf corral. This is a precaution, gentlemen, which I take +every night, because a wolf is a wolf no matter how well trained he may +be upon the surface, and night is the time wolves delight to run. These +beasts are especially dangerous to strangers and it is for that reason I +am putting you in the house in place of allowing you to camp outdoors, +as I know you would prefer to do. Good-night, gentlemen, see that the +doors are closed. Pleasant dreams." + +As we said good-night to him I wondered vaguely if the wolf pen was +securely built, for it seemed to me that I detected a suggestion of +doubt in the mind of the Wild Hunter himself. I little realized, +however, the horrors the darkness had in store for us. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Moose Ear, the silent, wrinkled old Indian, with lighted candles made of +buffalo tallow, guided Big Pete and me up the broad skilfully built +puncheon stairway to the upper story of the surprisingly large ranch +house, where he showed us to our rooms, rooms which were a joy to look +upon. Each was furnished with a heavy, hand-made four-posted bedstead, +which in spite of the massiveness was beautifully made, and I wondered +at the patience of the Wild Hunter in teaching the Indians their +craftmanship. + +The other furniture in the room was also hand wrought, as were the fiber +rugs on the floor and the checked homespun blankets on the beds. There +was a harmonious and pleasing effect; the rooms were cheerful, abounding +in evidences of Indian handicraft. Beadwork and embroidery of dyed +porcupine quills were prevalent, even the tester which roofed the +four-post bedstead was ornamented with fringes of buckskin and designs +made of beads and porcupine quills. The chairs and floors were +plentifully supplied with fur rugs, and the quaint, old-fashioned +appearance of the room in nowise detracted from its comfort or even +luxury. + +If it had not been for the uncomfortable thought of that pack of black +wolves outside, I am sure I would have been supremely happy at the +prospect of once more spending a night between clean and cool sheets and +a real feather pillow on which to rest my head. Eagerly and almost +excitedly I threw off my clothes and donned the long, linen nightshirt +with which old Moose Ear had provided me. Then I put the buckhorn +extinguisher over the candle and dove into the feather bed as gleefully +as a child on Christmas Eve. + +I expected to immediately fall asleep, but there is where I made a +mistake; my mind would not cease working, the wheels in my head kept +buzzing and would not stop. I was as wide awake as a codfish; the bed +was comfortable, too comfortable, but tired though I was I felt no +inclination to sleep. I thought it was the strangeness of my +surroundings which kept me tossing from side to side, but I soon +realized that the trouble was to be found in the fact that for months I +had only had the sky for my roof, never using our tents or open faced +shack except in bad weather; but here, the ornamented tester of the bed +and the ceiling itself seemed to be resting on my chest; in spite of the +wide open windows the room seemed stuffy and oppressive. I felt as if I +would suffocate. + +Twice I got up and sat by the open window and gazed out at the black +landscape. The sky was cloudy and there were no stars; this combined +with the pine trees about the ranch house made the darkness so black and +thick that it seemed as if one might cut it in chunks, with a knife. The +air felt good to breathe but I did not propose to sit by the window all +night so at last I arose, put moccasins on my feet and, taking my +blankets with me, stole stealthily down the stairs, opened the front +door and made my bed on the floor of the broad piazza. I had not +forgotten the warning to keep indoors, but I thought I would rather risk +the wolves than to smother all night. + +In the darkness I discovered another occupant of the piazza also rolled +up in a blanket taken from a bed in the house. Feeling with my hands I +discovered that it was Big Pete. Comfortably settling myself in my +blanket I felt the breeze from the mountain blowing over my face and +through my hair, and it soothed me until I dropped off into gentle +slumber; but during the months I had been sleeping in the open I had +learned the art, as the saying is, of sleeping with one eye open. In +this case, however, if the eye had really been wide open it could have +seen nothing because of the darkness, but the darkness did not interfere +with my ability to hear, and after I had been sleeping awhile I found +myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in my blankets with beads of +perspiration on my forehead and that terrible sensation of horror which +one experiences in a nightmare. I knew that I had heard something, but +what? + +The oppressive silence of the wilderness made the valley appear as if +Nature was holding her breath for a moment before giving voice to an +explosion of sound. I sensed impending disaster of some sort. What it +was I could not guess, but was convinced that something was about to +happen. + +As I held my breath and listened, the ranch house was silent; even Pete +had not, apparently, awakened, but I could not hear his regular +breathing. Now I thought I could detect a soft and very faint noise as +of some large body creeping over the puncheon steps. I also imagined I +detected the noise of padded feet and the scraping noise of claws on the +wood. A shudder ran through me. Was a panther, a mountain lion, about to +spring upon me? No, I abandoned the thought and instinctively I knew +that it must be one of the black wolf pack. Then I remembered hearing +the cracking and breaking of sticks or timber while I was trying to +sleep in the bedroom, and I felt that Pluto had broken out of the pen +and was creeping up on us slowly and stealthily as I have seen a fox +creep up on a covey of quail. + +Would the beast presently hurl its terrible form upon me, or on Big +Pete? I attempted to warn my friend, but my tongue clung to the roof of +my mouth and for the moment I was powerless and speechless, subdued by a +combination of fear of the real beast and superstitious fear of the +fabulous werwolf or loup-garou,[4] but the next moment I pulled myself +together, mastered my trembling limbs, rolled softly out of my blankets, +and gun in hand wormed my way toward the spot where Big Pete lay, +determined to sell my life dearly. With Big Pete beside me, now that I +was thoroughly awake, I would fight all the werwolves of the old world +and all the loup-garous of Canada. I reached out and felt for Pete but +he was not there, the blankets were empty; once or twice I thought I +detected the glint of the wolves' eyes, but the night was very dark and +in the shadow of the roof I could really see nothing. + + [Footnote 4: A werwolf, or loup-garou, is a legendary man who, + it was formerly believed, could at will take on the form and + nature of a wolf.] + +Closer and closer sounded the stealthy, dragging noise, and I heard a +hand feel softly for the latch of the front door and could hear fingers +scraping ever so softly over the wood surface of the other side. A +slight rattle told me that the hand had found the latch and that +presently the door would be flung open. With my revolver ready I waited +developments and braced myself for the attack. + +The door flew open wide, and the voice of the Wild Hunter cried, + +"Pluto, you fiend, down! down! I say!" + +But this time the huge brute did not obey and the command was answered +by a low rebellious growl, a scratching of feet on the puncheons, and a +heavy thud of someone falling told me that the final struggle for the +leadership of the black wolf pack had begun. + +Then burst upon the stillness of the night such an uproar that for a +moment I thought the whole pack was mixed in the fight, but at length I +heard Pluto's snarling, rumbling growl, answered by the distant howl of +the wolf pack, followed immediately by a close-by yell that chilled my +blood; after this came Big Pete's war cry, then the crash of falling +objects, shrieks and growls and savage yells. + +I had flung myself forward, and there in the pitch darkness of the +doorway of the hall I felt and heard rather than saw the lean twisting +bodies of the Wild Hunter and Pluto clasped in a life and death struggle +on the floor. I feared to use my revolver, as it would have been +impossible to tell whether I was shooting the hunter or the wolf. + +Suddenly a light burst upon the scene. Big Pete's absence was +explained; he had secured a lantern and holding it aloft with his left +hand, with a six-shooter in his right, he paused a moment over the +struggling figures. By the light of the lantern one could see that the +Wild Hunter was on his back struggling with the giant beast which he was +trying to choke with his two hands, while the wolf's teeth were seeking +the throat of the man. It was a terrible scene but it was no time to +waste in horror. The efforts of the hunter to free himself from his +terrible assailant would have been of little avail but for the +assistance of Big Pete, for the wolf was shaking the wild man from side +to side with terrific force, very much the same as a bull-terrier might +shake a cat. + +Pete wasted no time but placing the muzzle of his gun against the wolf's +head he fired, then shouted to me, "Look behind you." + +As I wheeled about I found that I was facing the rest of the pack. Pluto +reared upon his hind legs, clawed the air frantically in his death +struggle, and fell with a thud across his master's body, but Pete and I +were now concentrating our fire on the snarling, leaping bodies of the +wolf pack. Fortunately the death of Pluto and the silence of the Wild +Hunter seemed to discourage the pack, they evidently missed their +leaders and this gave us the advantage, for if they had rushed us we +undoubtedly would have fallen victims to their savage teeth. + +In the melee the lantern was upset and the struggle ended in darkness as +it began, but when things quieted down and Pete relit the lantern there +were only two wolves which were alive and they were fiercely attacking +each other. We soon dispatched them, however, and then devoted our +attention to the Wild Hunter over whose body Big Pete was now bending. + +"By the great horn spoon, Le-loo!" cried he, looking up for a moment, +"we've wiped out the pack, and now that the scrap is over here comes the +Injuns. I calculate our friend here is a dead one; Pluto has chewed him +to pieces. Come, lend a hand and we will see what we can do for the poor +old man; he certainly did put up a glorious fight." + +Reaching down I gathered the old man's legs in my arms, and with Big +Pete supporting his head and shoulders, we carried him into my room and +laid him on the feather bed under the savagely ornamented tester. + +Big Pete was all action then, and I helped as best I could. The Scout +ripped one of the homespun sheets into ribbons and with these made +bandages and proceeded to stay the flow of blood from the old man's +lacerated throat. He worked hard and long and now and then he would +shake his head dubiously. Presently he muttered, "'Taint much use, Ol' +Timer, I guess yore a goner. Yore goneta pass over t' Divide this time, +I guess. That tha' Pluto fiend done chewed you up fer further orders." + +At this the old man opened his eyes, and a grim smile wrinkled his now +ashen face. + +"I knew he'd do it some day, and I think he got me this time. The Mewan +Indians call the giant wolf "Too-le-ze" and that is also the name they +gave me, but I am not a werwolf, a loup-garou or a Too-le-ze. I was only +their master but now their victim. + +"I feared that Pluto, as I call him, or Too-le-ze, was strong and +treacherous and that is why I ruled him with an iron hand. He's got me +this time. I guess it had to end this way--give me a cup of water." + +He then fixed his gaze on me and I noticed that he no longer had that +worried, haunted look which had heretofore characterized him. + +"So you are Donald's son--well, when I heard Pluto stalking you I knew +that it was you or your uncle that the beast would get; it was fate that +made me slip and fall, and once down the wolf saw his long-looked-for +opportunity and instantly availed himself of it. But the good Lord was +not going to allow me to bring bad luck to both you and your father, +boy. Yes, I am Fay Mullen and I caused the death of your father, and my +brother. I bear the brand of Cain. + +"We were crossing a steep bank of snow at the foot of a cliff, and being +both tired and hungry we were bickering and quarreling over nothing. I +should have remembered that your father was but just recovering from an +attack of nervous prostration, but I did not; we had been months in the +mountains prospecting and the unprofitable toil and loneliness must have +got on my nerves. At any rate, after some hot, unbrotherly language, we +agreed to part company. + +"We sat down on the snow and divided our outfit by lot. I got the +flint-lock Patrick Mullen, the fierce Great Dane and the gentle little +donkey; your father got the packhorse and the Winchester rifle. + +"We--we--parted without saying good-bye, and just then an elk came out +on the snow bank. Instantly your father fired and I fired, the elk fell, +but the simultaneous concussion of the reports of the two rifles started +the snow to moving. The Great Dane and the donkey sensed the danger and +fled to the right. I turned to warn your father and motioned him back, +but he came on a run toward me and I fled at the heels of my outfit. The +burro and dog escaped to safety, I was caught in the edge of the slide, +knocked unconscious and buried in snow, from which the dog rescued me. + +"A fragment of stone struck me on the head and I have never been the +same since then. Your father and his outfit are buried under five +hundred feet of snow and rocks. I camped nearby for days but could find +no trace of my brother and all the time a voice seemed to cry, 'You +killed your brother; you are marked with the brand of Cain.' + +"This thought has haunted me night and day and I have never quarreled +with a man since then; for fear that I might do so, I have avoided white +men ever since and buried myself in these mountains. I found this valley +and I hid here and with the aid of the Great Dane and the wolf dogs I +bred, as beasts of burden, I built this ranch. I--I--was afraid--all the +time, though--afraid someone would--find out about--Donald's death and +blame it on me. When you--said--you--were--Donald's son I was +frightened--I thought you'd come to get me--for killing your--father +and--I--I--I was going to kill myself. But Pluto got--me--and saved me +from further guilt. I--" + +He said more, but neither Big Pete nor I could understand him. Indeed, +he kept mumbling incoherently for an hour or more while we watched over +him and did all that we could to make him comfortable until the death +rattle in his throat put an end to his mumbling. But despite our +efforts, he passed on at dawn. Just as the first warm light of the sun +glowed above the mountains, he breathed his last. + + * * * * * + +Now you know why my private den is just cram full of the things you +fellows like. You may also guess where I procured the black wolfskin +rugs and the rare bead and porcupine quill decorations. Yes, that +long-barrelled rifle hanging on the buckhorn rack is the famous Patrick +Mullen gun. It is a rifle that Washington, Boone or Crockett would have +almost given their scalps to possess, because it is the same pattern as +the ones they themselves used but more scientifically and skillfully +made. It's a flint-lock, too, and that is the funny part about it that +interests all the Scouts of our Troop. It is my good-turn mascot, for as +long as it hangs there I am under the influence of my wild uncle and can +quarrel with no man. + +Now you know why the gun is preserved as a trophy for my old Scouts and +is an object of veneration upon which they love to gaze when they sit +cross-legged on the skins of the black wolf pack before the crackling +fire of their Scoutmaster's private den. + +Big Pete? Oh, he now runs the Pluto Ranch in Paradise Valley. + + + + THE BEARD BOOKS FOR BOYS + + _By_ DAN C. BEARD + + + THE AMERICAN BOY'S HANDY BOOK. Or, What to Do and How to Do It + _Illustrated by the author_ + + Gives sports adapted to all seasons of the year, tells boys how + to make all kinds of things--boats, traps, toys, puzzles, + aquariums, fishing-tackle; how to tie knots, splice ropes, to + make bird calls, sleds, blow-guns, balloons; how to rear wild + birds, to train dogs, and do the thousand and one things that + boys take delight in. + + + THE OUTDOOR HANDY BOOK. For Playground, Field, and Forest + _Illustrated by the author_ + + "How to play all sorts of games with marbles, how to make and + spin more kinds of tops than most boys ever heard of, how to + make the latest things in plain and fancy kites, where to dig + bait and how to fish, all about boats and sailing, and a host of + other things ... an unmixed delight to any boy."--_New York + Tribune._ + + + THE FIELD AND FOREST HANDY BOOK. Or, New Ideas for Out of Doors + _Illustrated by the author_ + + "Instructions as to ways to build boats and fire-engines, make + aquariums, rafts, and sleds, to camp in a back-yard, etc. No + better book of the kind exists."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + + SHELTERS, SHACKS, AND SHANTIES _Illustrated by the author_ + + Easily workable directions, accompanied by very full + illustration, for over fifty shelters, shacks, and shanties. + + + BOAT-BUILDING AND BOATING. A Handy Book for Beginners + _Illustrated by the author_ + + All that Dan Beard knows and has written about the building of + every simple kind of boat, from a raft to a cheap motor-boat, is + brought together in this book. + + + THE JACK OF ALL TRADES. Or, New Ideas for American Boys + _Illustrated by the author_ + + "This book is a capital one to give any boy for a present at + Christmas, on a birthday, or indeed at any time."--_The + Outlook._ + + + THE BOY PIONEERS. Sons of Daniel Boone _Illustrated by the + author_ + + "How to become a member of the 'Sons of Daniel Boone' and take + part in all the old pioneer games, and many other things in + which boys are interested."--_Philadelphia Press._ + + + THE BLACK WOLF-PACK + + "A genuine thriller of mystery and red-blooded conflicts, well + calculated to hold the mind and the heart of its boy and, for + that matter, its adult reader."--_Philadelphia North American._ + + + + + THE BEARD BOOKS FOR GIRLS + + _By_ LINA BEARD _and_ ADELIA B. BEARD + + + THE AMERICAN GIRL'S HANDY BOOK. How to Amuse Yourself and Others + + _With nearly 500 illustrations_ + + "It is a treasure which, once possessed, no practical girl would + willingly part with."--GRACE GREENWOOD. + + + THINGS WORTH DOING AND HOW TO DO THEM + + _With some 600 drawings by the authors that show exactly how + they should be done_ + + "The book will tell you how to do nearly anything that any live + girl really wants to do."--_The World To-day._ + + + HANDICRAFT AND RECREATION FOR GIRLS + + _With over 700 illustrations by the authors_ + + "It teaches how to make serviceable and useful things of all + kinds out of every kind of material. It also tells how to play + and how to make things to play with."--_Chicago Evening Post._ + + + WHAT A GIRL CAN MAKE AND DO. New Ideas for Work and Play + + _With more than 300 illustrations by the authors_ + + "It would be a dull girl who could not make herself busy and + happy following its precepts.... A most inspiring book for an + active-minded girl."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + + ON THE TRAIL + + _Illustrated by the authors_ + + This volume tells how a girl can live outdoors, camping in the + woods, and learning to know its wild inhabitants. + + + MOTHER NATURE'S TOY SHOP + + _Profusely illustrated by the authors_ + + How children can make toys easily and economically from wild + flowers, grasses, green leaves, seed-vessels, fruits, etc. + + + LITTLE FOLKS' HANDY BOOK + + _With many illustrations_ + + Contains a wealth of devices for entertaining children by means + of paper building-cards, wooden berry-baskets, straw and paper + furniture, paper jewelry, etc. + + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, NEW YORK + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Black Wolf Pack, by Dan Beard + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK WOLF PACK *** + +***** This file should be named 22109.txt or 22109.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/1/0/22109/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/22109.zip b/22109.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..48dffcb Binary files /dev/null and b/22109.zip differ diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf26fb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #22109 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22109) -- cgit v1.2.3