CHAPTER V. THE FIRST FRESH MEAT.
All day long the two travelled steadily forward, stopping only once or twice to look at the packs, and to smoke. The pack horses followed their leader pretty well, and gave Jack little trouble, so that he was free to look about him and enjoy the bright sun, the cool breeze, and the birds and animals that from time to time showed themselves near them. There was no trail, but Hugh seemed to be travelling north without any land marks to guide him. During one of their halts Jack asked Hugh where they would camp that night.
"Well, we can camp most anywhere, for we'll find plenty of water toward the end of the afternoon. We'll either come on La Bonté, or on some little creek running into it. There's good feed anywhere, and wood enough for us, too. I reckon we'll have to picket all the horses to-night, and maybe every night for the next week, but after that it will be enough if we picket three of 'em, and let the other three drag their ropes. After they once get used to being together they ain't none of 'em likely to wander off, without the whole bunch goes."
"It would be pretty bad if we were to lose our horses, wouldn't it, Hugh?"
"It sure would," was the reply; "there's mighty few things that's worse than being left afoot on the prairie. I often wonder how it was in the old times, when one of the Companies would send a man off to go on foot two or three hundred miles, with no grub, and one blanket and a copper kettle, and maybe twelve balls."
"How do you mean, Hugh; twelve balls?"
"Why, don't you know," said Hugh, "in them days, when a man worked for one of the Fur Companies they only gave him just so much powder and lead. Of course, ammunition came high then, and they might send a man off to make a long journey on foot and not give him any grub, and just six or eight or ten charges for his gun, expecting him to kill whatever he ate. Travelling in this country in them days couldn't have been much fun."
"I should think not. But suppose such a man met Indians, and had to fight; what would he do then?"
"Well," said Hugh, "them men didn't calculate to fight; they calculated to keep out of sight; and then the Indians weren't right mean then. If they found a fellow travelling on the prairie they'd charge up to him and scare him about half to death, but likely they wouldn't hurt him. Maybe they'd just talk to him and let him go, or at worst they'd take his gun and his clothes, everything that he had, and turn him loose."
"But then I should think he'd starve to death."
"Well, I expect maybe a good many men did starve to death that nobody ever heard of. It's a sure thing that lots of men started out to go from one place to another, and never got to the other place."
"Did you ever have to do that, Hugh?" said Jack.
"No," said Hugh, "I never did. Fact is, I never worked regular for no fur company, I was always a free trapper, as they called it, until beaver went out, and trapping was over; then I hired out to the Government, and took parties of troops around over the country, fellows that were making maps; and some seasons I guided emigrant trains, and hunted for posts. One or two years I traded with Indians, working for Bent and St. Vrain. I liked that about as well as any work I ever did. Then presently the railroad came along, and I got work with them; and by-and-by I settled down to kind o' learn the cow-punching trade, and here I am to-day."
"My, Hugh! you must have seen an awful lot in all this time. How many years is it since you first came out?"
"It'll be forty-three years next August since I started from old Kentucky. I was sixteen years old then, and that same fall I got out to St. Joe, and I have been travelling the prairie ever since."
"Forty-three years ago!" said Jack, thoughtfully; "then you must be fifty-nine."
"Yes, I am fifty-nine years old, and I expect I look it, don't I?"
"Yes, you do look pretty old, but I think that's because your hair and beard are white; your face doesn't look old."
"Well, I'm old enough to have learned a heap, and I expect if I was fifteen years old to-day, and knowed as much as I know now, and was back in old Kentucky, I'd stop right there."
The sun was drawing toward the western horizon when, on riding over the crest of the hill, Jack saw a mile or two before him a long winding line of dark green, which he knew to be the timber that marked the course of a stream. Many antelope were feeding on the slope down which they passed, and these seemed to be quite fearless, and moved out of the way slowly as the train drew near them. The stream was a small one, but flowed through a wide, level bottom, and Hugh, directing his course toward a group of cottonwood trees, drew up under them, dismounted, and throwing down his bridle rein, said, "Let's camp."
In a very short time the loads were taken from the animals, and piled on the ground at the foot of one of the trees; the saddles were placed on the packs, and the blankets upsidedown on the saddles, so that any moisture on them might dry, and the mantas were thrown on the ground nearby, and would be used at night to cover the riggings and the goods, so as to protect them from wet in case of rain. A lariat was tied to the neck of each horse, and they were allowed to wander at will over the bottom, except old Baldy, whose rope was tied to a bush.
"It's a pretty good thing," Hugh explained, "to have one horse anchored where you know you can get at him. Might be such a thing that something would scare these horses and they'd all take off over the bluffs, but if we've got one riding horse where we can put our hands on him, we can get 'em back easy enough, while if we had to chase 'em afoot it might be a long, slow business. Now, son," he went on, "you take this kettle and get a bucket o' water, and I'll start a fire, and we'll have some supper."
Jack picked up the bucket and started down to the stream, but before he had taken a half dozen steps Hugh called him back.
"I guess you've forgot something, ain't you?" he said; and then when Jack looked puzzled, he went on to say, "Now, son, I've got to say over again to you something that I said last summer; that's a long time ago, and I don't much wonder you forgot it. We're going into a strange country now, and we may meet strange people, maybe enemies, so you'd better just get into the way of packing your gun around with you wherever you go, it ain't a very heavy load to carry, and you may want it bad some time."
Jack had not taken off his cartridge belt, and he stepped over and picked up his rifle, and then went and got the water. By the time he had returned, Hugh had kindled a fire and had brought quite a pile of wood, and Jack helped him to gather more; so that before long they had more than they could use during the night. It did not take long to cook their simple supper, which consisted only of bacon, bread and coffee. While they were doing it, Hugh remarked, "I don't believe it's going to rain to-night, and I don't think it's worth while to put up a tent, unless you want it."
"No indeed," said Jack, "I'd rather sleep in the open air, unless we're likely to have a storm."
"Well, let it go at that.
"Now, there's one thing we've got to do, and that is to keep a lot of picket pins on hand until these horses get wonted. I put a half dozen hard wood pins in the gunny sack in the mess box, but we'll be losing them right along, and I believe I'll go to work on an old lodge pole that's lying over here in the brush and make some pins for to-night. You might go out and get around them horses and start them back this way; they're working too far up the creek. Don't chase 'em or scare 'em; just go around 'em and drive 'em slowly until you get their heads turned this way. If you should see a buck antelope on the way, you might kill him, if you can, and we'll put him on one of the packs and take him along."
"I'd like to do that, Hugh, but there ain't much likelihood of seeing an antelope down in the bottom, is there?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Hugh; "you might see one; or you might jump a deer out of some of this brush. Don't kill a doe, though; she won't be no account to eat; and don't go too far, and mind you keep your eye out for signs. If you see any people, or sign of where people's been lately, get back to camp as quick as you can."
The horses had been feeding away from camp, and some of them were already hidden among the underbrush that grew in the valley. Jack walked over to the foot of the bluffs, and up the stream half a mile, and then, having got beyond the horses, he walked quietly toward them, turned them down the stream toward camp, followed them to the edge of the brush, and saw that they were now busily feeding in the right direction; then he turned about and walked up the stream.
He had not gone far when he saw in the sand at the edge of the creek the tracks of two deer, one set quite large, and the other rather small. He looked carefully about him in all directions but could see nothing, though the tracks seemed quite fresh. Keeping on up the stream, walking very quietly, stopping often to look all about him, he came to the edge of a little meadow, almost surrounded by bushes, and there, as he paused before stepping out of the brush, he saw near the other side, two deer.
Luckily for him, the gentle breeze was blowing down the stream, and so the deer did not smell him. When he first saw them their heads were down, and what first caught his eye was the rapid side-wise motion of the white tail of one of the animals. Almost as he stopped, the deer raised their heads, looked about for a moment, and then began to feed again. He could see that both of them had small horns, and yet one seemed quite a large deer. They were not far off, only about sixty yards, and Jack quietly dropped on his knee, slipped a cartridge into his gun, and made ready to fire. He hesitated a little, for both deer stood with their hips almost toward him, and he hoped that in a moment or two they might change their positions, so as to give him a broadside shot. Presently that very thing happened; the larger deer turned a little to the left, and then still more, so that its shoulder and side presented a fair mark. The next time that it raised its head and stood quite still, Jack drew a very fine bead on it, behind the shoulder and low down, and fired.
The deer leaped high into the air, and with two or three graceful bounds, disappeared into the underbrush, followed by its companion. "I wonder if I missed it," thought Jack; "it don't seem possible that I could have done that, for it was standing still, and I don't think I felt a particle nervous. I believe I'll go over there and try to follow their tracks a little way, anyhow."
When he had reached the place where the deer had been standing, their hoof-prints were plain in the soil, and following the direction they had gone, he saw other deep tracks, where they had made long leaps. He was so interested in following these tracks, that he almost forgot the question of whether he had missed or not, but suddenly, to his surprise, as he was puzzling out the tracks, he saw that the leaves of the brush, through which he was passing, were smeared with blood. "By jimminy!" thought Jack, "I did hit him! And now I wonder if I can find him." Looking carefully both for blood and tracks, he soon saw that the deer was bleeding freely, and that he need no longer look for tracks, since the blood on the underbrush and the grass and weeds was a constant guide to him. He had gone only forty or fifty yards, though to him it seemed much longer, when suddenly he stepped out of the brush at the foot of the bluffs, and saw, lying a few yards before him, the deer, dead on the grass. The other deer was standing nearby, looking back, as if puzzled, and Jack was strongly tempted to take a shot at it, but he reflected that one deer was more than they could use, and that it would be wasteful as well as cruel to kill a second.
As Jack stepped out into the open, the other deer stood for a moment looking at him, and then trotted off up the slope, stopping once or twice within easy shot, and looking back, but at last disappeared over the hilltop. The deer on the ground was quite dead, and the position of the bullet hole showed that it must have been shot through the heart.
Jack drew his butcher knife from its sheath, bled the deer, and began to butcher it. He had often seen this done by other people, but this was the first attempt at it that he had ever made, and he found it not so easy as it looked. He worked slowly and awkwardly, and once was tempted to give the job up, and go back and get Hugh to do it. Still, he persevered, and although now the sun had set, he was still cutting and pulling, absorbed in his task, when a voice at his elbow said, "Well, you've got some meat, I see;" and looking up, he saw Hugh standing by him.
"I heard you shoot," said Hugh, "and when you didn't come back, I allowed you might have trouble getting your meat into camp, and so I came along. Now, it's getting late and you'd better let me finish that job."
"I wish you would, Hugh; it's the first animal I ever butchered, and though I've seen you do it a good many times, I find I don't know how."
"Well, it does look a little bit as if the rats had been gnawing at it." He took out his own knife and made a few quick cuts, which finished the work; then, cutting off the deer's head he laid his rifle on the ground, lifted the carcass on his back, and then, telling Jack to hand him the rifle, which he rested across the deer's legs before him, he strode off toward camp.
When they reached camp, Jack saw that the six horses were picketed close at hand; that the beds were unrolled and spread out on the ground, beneath one of the larger trees, and that the fire was burning cheerily.
"Now," said Hugh, as he threw the deer's carcass on the ground, "let's get the jacket off this fellow, and hang him up in the tree to cool."
The operation of skinning the deer and hanging it up did not take long, but before this was ended, night had fallen. Hugh lighted his pipe, and then sat by the fire for a little while, staring at it, and Jack lay at full length beside him, and as they sat there, told Hugh about how he had found and killed the deer.
"Well, son," said the old man, "I'm mighty glad we got that meat; it'll make things a heap more comfortable for us for the next few days. Now, we want to go to bed pretty quick, and get all the sleep we can. You know the nights are pretty short this time o' year, and we want to be up by daylight to-morrow morning and change them horses to fresh grass, and let 'em feed while we're getting breakfast; and then as soon as we're through, pack up and get started again. We've got a long way to go, and the quicker we get to the Piegan camp the better I'll be suited. We're likely to have plenty of delays on the road, and I want to make the best time I can."