CHAPTER XIX
THE FIRST BIGHORN
After they had eaten, it was still the middle of the afternoon, and Jack said to Hugh, "Hugh, why shouldn't we all set off and go down the creek and help the Cliffords try their guns this afternoon? There is plenty of time to do that before dark, and then if we have any chance to hunt right soon those people will know something about where they are shooting."
"No reason at all why we shouldn't do it. If you'll fetch in the saddle horses, we'll start over and get the Cliffords now."
It took but a few moments to get the horses and saddle them. When the suggestion was made to Mr. Clifford and Henry, they, too, saddled up, and a few moments later the four were trotting down the trail.
In an open park, a couple of miles below the camp, Jack slashed the bark from a tree trunk, making a target, and then, stepping off a hundred yards, he said to Henry, "Now let me have your gun and I will fire three or four sighting shots, so that I can find out just how to hold it, and then you can shoot, and very few shots will tell you how you ought to hold your gun to hit the mark, or, at least, to come very close to it."
The shots fired by Jack showed him that, as is usually the case, Henry's gun was sighted to shoot high, but by drawing the fore sight down very fine, he put the last two shots within an inch and a half of each other at the center of the target. Then he explained to Henry what it was necessary for him to do; that he should draw the sight down, so fine that only the tip of the foresight could be seen in the notch of the rear sight; that he should not try to hold his rifle steadily for a time on the target, but should aim at the center and should pull the trigger just as the sight was about to pass over the center of the target. After three or four shots, and comments and criticisms by Hugh and Jack, Henry was able to bunch his bullets very close around the center of the mark he was shooting at, and quickly came to understand the process of handling the gun so that his bullets would go close to where he wished them to.
After Henry had finished, Hugh took Mr. Clifford in hand, and he, having had the benefit of seeing what his son had done, learned still more easily what was required of him, and in a very few shots seemed to have mastered the art of short-range rifle shooting, which is so often very difficult of acquirement.
The sun was yet an hour high when they finished their work and, mounting, rode back to the camp. The two boys galloped ahead, while the older men followed, also riding fast. They had almost reached the Clifford camp when Jack heard a dull sound, followed by a faint cry, a sort of squall which he did not recognize. Instantly he pulled up his horse and sat there listening, and in a moment Hugh and Mr. Clifford had overtaken the boys and stopped. Jack called back, "Did you hear that, Hugh? What was it?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "I heard something, and I suspect our dead-fall is sprung, and sprung by some animal, too."
"That's what it sounded like to me. That heavy noise was something falling. Let's ride up there and see what it is."
They pushed on by the camps, and presently came in sight of the dead-fall and could see that the fall-log had dropped. A moment later Jack saw a little bear on the hillside, which sat up and looked for a moment, and then ran away into the timber. When they had come close to the dead-fall they saw the fall-log lay across the body of a bear, and, dismounting at a little distance, they approached it. The bear was a large female, and the dead-fall had fallen across its shoulders and apparently broken the neck.
"I don't understand this, Hugh," said Jack. "The log ought to have struck her farther back. She could not reach the bait from this position. Could she have touched the bait and then jumped back while the log was falling?"
"No, son," said Hugh. "This bear did not spring the trap." As he spoke, he stepped over the fall-log and entered the pen, and after looking about a moment he turned and said, "She had a cub with her, and the cub pushed in ahead and got hold of the bait and sprung the trap just in time to catch the old one." Then he pointed out to the others the tracks made by the little bear, and showed how it had grasped the bait, pulled it to one side, and then, frightened by the noise of the falling log, had bolted out of the pen.
"I only see tracks of one cub," said Hugh, "but very likely there may have been two. Did you see more than the one as we came up, son?" he asked Jack.
"No," answered Jack, "I saw only one."
"Well," said Hugh, "let us get this bear out and skin it if we can before dark, and set the trap again. We're likely to catch another bear to-night."
All hands took hold of the fall-log, lifted it off the bear, and then propped it up and hauled the bear out in front of the pen.
"Now," said Hugh, "it's going to be a job to skin this bear, and unless we all take hold of it we can't get it done to-night. If we leave it here, and the bears come down to the trap again, they will eat it up, and we'll lose the hide, and very likely they won't go into the trap. What do you say, Mr. Clifford?" turning to the Englishman. "Are you willing to lend a hand to skin this bear?"
"Why, yes," said Mr. Clifford, after a moment's hesitation. "I shall be glad to. We came out into this country to gain new experience, and we may as well take part in all the work that presents itself."
"All right," said Hugh, "let's go at it right now. And Jack, son," he went on, "you go down to our camp and get the beaver knives and whetstones, and then go down to Mr. Clifford's camp and get Jones to come here and help."
Jack turned his horse and rode off without a word. Hugh called out to him, "Bring the ax with you when you come back." Jack signed that he understood, and went on.
When he returned with Jones, the bear had been slit and the three companions were hard at work at it, the Englishmen working very slowly and clumsily, and Hugh very quickly. When Jack and Jones took hold, the work proceeded much more rapidly, and just about sunset the last cuts were made, and the hide freed from the carcass. Then Hugh had everyone take hold and pull the body of the bear back into the very end of the pen beyond the bait, and then all hands went to work and reset the trap. The bear hide was rolled up and thrown across Jack's saddle, and he led the snorting Pawnee down to the camp, while Henry and Jones walked on either side, holding the hide in place.
"You men had better stop and eat with me," said Hugh. "Our grub is getting pretty low; we haven't anything but bread and bacon and coffee, but to-morrow, if nothing happens, we shall have some fresh meat."
The conversation that evening was much about bears, Mr. Clifford and his son asking a multitude of questions, to which Hugh replied as best he could. Mr. Clifford seemed to have an absorbing thirst for knowledge, and never grew weary of asking Hugh questions about the country and its life and the ways of its inhabitants.
Before the English party went to their camp, Hugh said, "Now, I think, to-morrow, as soon as we get done with whatever work we may find, we'd better move on up the creek and see if we can get into the high mountains where there's game. We're plumb out of meat, and then, I reckon, you all would like a day or two of hunting. We can kill some meat and dry some of it, and then I expect Mr. Clifford and his folks will go on down Grand River, and we'll come back and go down toward Middle Park by way of the Rabbit Ears."
Everybody seemed to think that to go hunting would be very pleasant, but Mr. Clifford made no reply to the suggestion that they would go down Grand River.
The round of the traps next morning yielded only one beaver and a couple of mink.
"Well, son," said Hugh, "I reckon there's not much more for us here in the way of fur, and we'll get this beaver skinned early and move on up the creek, unless we have a bear, and about that we'll know in a few moments now."
They rode over to the skinning place, and from that looked down on the bear trap. It was sprung, but when they went down, there was nothing in it. The beaver which had served as bait, however, was gone, and a considerable part of the old bear was eaten. There were fresh tracks and other sign all about, showing that several bears had been in the pen during the night.
"It's those durned cubs," said Hugh. "They come in here and pull at the bait and spring the trap and then get scared and run away, and later the bigger bears come down and eat the bait. I don't know that we'll do anything more with this trap, and, any way, it won't pay to set it just as we're going away. If we were going to be near enough so that we could come down here every day and look at it, it would be different; but it's quite a long ride up to the pass, and if we're going to hunt, we won't feel much like riding down here."
Before they had finished skinning the beaver, the Cliffords had come up the hill, and after the work was over Hugh and Jack took them down to the bear trap and explained the situation. Then Hugh proposed that they should all pack up and start up the stream for the pass, and before noon the pack train, now more than doubled in numbers, was climbing toward the summit.
It was a delightful ride through the green timber, with frequent glimpses of the brawling stream, which grew constantly smaller, steeper, and more noisy. Hugh led the way, followed by a couple of horses, and the strangers rode among the pack animals, each with one or more of the horses in front of him. Jack brought up the rear, having been told to do so by Hugh, and kept watch of the trail and of the animals ahead of him. Hugh had thought that they might reach the pass before night, but in this he was mistaken. The sun had already disappeared behind the overshadowing mountains when they reached a little level opening in the timber, and here Hugh turned aside and declared that they would camp. Just as he was about to swing himself out of the saddle, a white-tailed deer walked out from a bunch of willows along the stream and stood looking curiously at the strange visitors, and Hugh, slipping a cartridge into his gun, shot at it, and it fell. It proved to be a yearling doe, and was in good order. Before Hugh had returned with the meat and the hide, camp had been made, the tents were up, and the fires going and the horses short picketed on the grass. There were many hands, and the work went quickly.
The night was cold, and all hands were early astir and clustered about the fire. There was frost on the grass, on the willows, and on the horses' manes. The ropes were frozen, and there was a skim of ice over the quiet water of the pool in front of the camp. As the sun rose, however, everything warmed up; the frost melted, the high grass and willow bushes began to drip with moisture, and the ropes to dry; and, after the sun had been shining for an hour or two, the horses were packed and the train started out again.
It was interesting to Jack and to the English boy to notice in the shaded spots how the beautiful summer flowers, that they had so much admired the day before, were wilted and cut down by the frost, but in the open spaces where the sun shone on them the flowers seemed to speedily recover and once more held up their heads. As the train proceeded, the valley became more narrow and rough, and the impetuous force of the stream, which was now only a brook, increased. Sometimes it fell down in a sheer cascade for ten or fifteen feet, and at such points the trail left the stream and wound about in the timber, zig-zagging up the hill until the ascent was overcome, when it returned near to the water's edge. Some of the slopes were steep and some seemed dangerous, places where a misstep by the horse might throw the rider down forty or fifty feet into the stream below. One or two of the horses, whose packs, though light, were bulky and stood up high above the saddle, looked, as they climbed the steep places, as if they must be overbalanced by their load and fall backward.
To Mr. Clifford and his son this method of traveling was absolutely novel and at first really alarming. Neither said anything, however, but watched Hugh and Jack. They saw that these two rode along unconcernedly, and from this inferred that the danger was more apparent than real.
At last the valley through which they were traveling became a mere gorge, and at length, after climbing a few hundred feet up a very steep slope, they found themselves at the edge of the large timber. The view here was something to make even Jack catch his breath, accustomed as he was to mountain scenery. Before them lay a gently rising alpine meadow, intersected by ravines, in which a few stunted spruces flourished, and then above this was a wide amphitheater surrounded on all sides by rugged and towering rock summits. The floor of the amphitheater sloped smoothly down to a brook which flowed through its midst, and this brook came from a lake lying far above among the snow fields, from which, in turn, it drew its waters. Along the brook were low willows for a little distance, and then the altitude proved too much for them, and only grass grew. On the left-hand side, for several thousand feet above them, rose bare rocks streaked with vertical lines of red and yellow, while off to the south was the pass, showing as a deep sag two or three thousand feet below the general crest of the mountains, and up to this sag the amphitheater which they were entering rose with a gradual ascent. On the south and west side of the pass the mountains rose to a great height, terminating in a confused mass of rocks, from which three slender pinnacles towered toward the sky. The open meadow which they were now crossing was carpeted with soft, green grass, and with an astonishing profusion of flowers, red, yellow, blue, purple; columbines, harebells, asters, and a multitude of other flowers grew here, or higher up, close to and even among the snow banks. It was a wild-flower garden such as perhaps few people except those who have traveled in the high mountains have ever seen.
As they climbed higher and approached the pass, the ascent became steeper, and presently a cool breeze swept down the mountain side, showing that they were nearing the pass. A few hundred feet more of climbing and they reached the summit, where they halted to rest and look down on the lower land before and behind them. In front, to the south and east, they could see a great part of Middle Park and of the rugged and broken mountains which surrounded it. Almost at their feet a little lake nestled in the mountains. A few hundred feet below, the north fork of Grand River takes its rise and flows down through the narrow, wooded gorge, whose length they saw as far as the plains of Middle Park. High above, to the right, in a saddle, was a huge snowdrift, whose melting waters flowed from one extremity into the stream they had been ascending, and so on into the North Platte, and into the Missouri River; while from the other end another stream leaped out to join Grand River, which after a long course joins the Green to form that mighty stream of the West, the Colorado River, and so to reach the Pacific.
Looking backward the whole course of the Michigan lay before them, and away beyond it the gray sagebrush flats of North Park, with here and there a little lake gleaming in the sun like a bit of burnished silver.
"Great show, isn't it, Henry?" said Jack.
"Yes," said the English boy. "It is a marvelous view."
They had no time for further talk, for Hugh had started his horse down the pass on the other side, and following an old game trail he rode by the little lake until he reached the first few spruces that grew on that side of the range. Here camp was made, and as there were still a few hours of daylight, Jack proposed to Henry that they should climb up on the high mountains to the north and east of camp.
"I don't know how long Hugh will want to stay," he said to Henry, "but we better make the most of our time. If we can get up pretty high we may see a sheep or possibly a bull elk, and I guess you'd like a shot at either one, wouldn't you?"
"Indeed, I would," said Henry.
The boys started out, breasting the steep, rocky slope with courage. After climbing to a point a few hundred feet above the level of the pass, all vegetation disappeared except a gray lichen which clung to the rocks which were scattered everywhere over the ground. The mountainside was very steep. The loose rocks did not always give a firm foothold, and at that altitude the air was so rare that the boys were frequently obliged to stop and take breath. A cold wind had sprung up, but by the time they had reached the summit they were wet with perspiration. Jack quickly led the way to the lee of a huge mass of rock, and here, sheltered from the wind, the boys reclined and basked in the warm sunshine. Nearby was the edge of a tall precipice which almost overhung the camp, and going to the edge the two looked over, trying to guess how far they were above the camp. They could see a man in the camp, but could not recognize him, and the horses scattered in a little meadow seemed very small.
"Well," said Jack, "this isn't hunting. Come on;" and turning to one side, he struck off along the ridge of the mountain, followed by Henry. This ridge was smooth, rounded, and undulating, though constantly ascending. To the left was a deep, wide valley, in which grew many low willows, where Jack felt sure must be ptarmigan, while to the right were far-stretching mountains, most of them pine-covered and dark green, but one or two bristling with dead timber, whose white and weather-worn trunks gleamed and shone when touched by the sun. Jack saw a lot of things that he would have been glad to point out to Henry, but if they were to hunt, they must be about it. For some distance nothing was seen except a single little bird, which walked about the rocks, and then, as it was approached, rose on wing and flew a little further on, only to rise again. Now and then, from the rocks which lay on either side of the ridge, the plaintive cry of the little chief hare was heard. At one place Jack saw some freshly shed white feathers, which showed that some ptarmigan had passed by not long before, but he merely pointed to them with his hand as he passed them.
Presently, however, as the boys were crossing a little saddle, Jack noticed in some loose sand the tracks of two mountain sheep. He followed them carefully, going very slowly as he came to each ridge, but for some time saw nothing of the animals. Then, presently, on raising his head slightly over a ridge, he saw, almost on the crest of the next ridge, a ewe walking along, and a moment later a good ram came in sight following her. As he saw them he crouched down lower and lower, motioning with his hand to his companion to imitate his actions. The sheep stopped on the crest of the ridge, and looked about them and then passed on, unfrightened. As they disappeared, Jack slowly arose, first to his knees and then to his feet, and whispered to Henry, "Come on, now, here's a chance for a shot." They ran as hard as they could across the little hollow and up the slope where the sheep had just passed. As they approached the ridge, Jack slackened his pace a little, and falling back beside Henry, said, "You'll probably get a shot from this ridge. Go slowly now; get control of your wind, if you can; remember to shoot low down and just behind the foreshoulder. Low down, I tell you, and don't forget how to look through your sights. Now go carefully. I'll go ahead and take the look, and you load your gun and follow. Do just what you see me do." Jack approached the crest with extreme caution, for he was anxious that Henry should get a shot. It was well that he did so, for the sheep had paused in the little hollow beyond and were only now climbing the next hill, and scarcely seventy yards away. Jack threw himself flat on the ground and motioned Henry up beside him, and then whispered, "Take the ram, the one with the big horns. You have plenty of time; don't make any sudden motions, and wait a moment. They may stop." Lying full length on the ground, resting his elbows on it, Henry leveled his rifle, and a moment later the ram, which was behind, turned aside to nibble some bit of vegetation and gave a broadside shot. "Now," said Jack. "Remember, low down, and let him have it." A moment later the gun cracked, the ram plunged forward, and both sheep ran quickly over the ridge.
"By Jove, I believe you got him. I know he was hit, and I think hit right," and they raced along.
"Oh," said Henry, as they pantingly staggered up the slope, "I'm afraid I didn't hit him. My gun kept moving around so; but when I pulled the trigger, I thought it was moving toward the right spot, and I knew I never could hold it still."
As they topped the ridge, Jack saw lying among the rocks below them something brown and curved, which he was sure was one of the ram's horns.
"Hurrah!" he yelled, and they plunged down among the broken stones, leaping from one to another like a pair of young goats. Jack was much more active among the rocks than Henry, and reached the ram first. It was quite dead, for the bullet had gone just to the right spot, and through the great beast's heart.
When Henry came up, Jack shook his hands in cordial congratulation, and then, drawing his butcher knife, prepared to bleed the ram.
"My," he said, "but we've got a job now. You and I can never carry this animal into camp. We'll have to take what we can, and come up here to-morrow with help. Possibly we can get a pack horse up here, though I doubt it. I know we can't get one up the way we came, but there may be some other road. Well, come on," he continued, "we've got no time to fool; it will be dark in a couple of hours, and we must hurry." As they were at work removing the animal's entrails, Jack said, "Now, what shall we try to carry back?"
"Oh, Jack," said Henry, "whatever we leave here, let us take the head with us. I would not lose that for anything. Just think, it's the first sheep I ever saw, the first I ever shot at, and the first I ever killed. I do want to take that in and show it to my governor. My, won't he be delighted!"
"Well," said Jack, "if we carry the head we can't carry anything else. That head as it is, without any of the neck, will weigh not less than forty or fifty pounds, and we've got quite a way to go. Moreover, it's such an unhandy thing that we can't both of us carry it. We've got to spell each other."
"Let's try to take it, anyhow, Jack," said Henry.
"All right," said Jack, "we'll try," and cutting the skin of the neck low down to breast and shoulders, the boys quickly skinned away the hide from the flesh, cutting the head off at the first joint.
"Now," said Jack, "we must start back."
He took a red silk handkerchief out of his pocket, and putting it on the top of a high rock close to the sheep, placed a stone on the corner in such a way that when the breeze blew the handkerchief would flutter almost over the sheep's carcass. "That may keep away the eagles and the magpies," he said. Then he gave both rifles to Henry, handed him the sheep's liver to carry in his other hand, and, hoisting the sheep's head on his back, set out on the return to camp. Half a dozen times on the return journey the two boys changed loads, but at last they reached the end of the ridge and could look down on the camp. By a little search they found an easier place to go down than that by which they had ascended, and Jack thought that still further to the right he saw a still easier way, one up which a pack horse could perhaps be led.
The sun had already hidden itself behind the western mountains when the two tired boys reached camp. Jack, who had the ram's head on his shoulders, dropped it to the ground with a groan of relief, and said, "Well, Henry, I don't know who else I would have done this for."
The story of their success was soon told, and Mr. Clifford was delighted with the trophy, while Hugh praised Henry's shot and prophesied that he would become a good hunter. Henry told the story of his shot, of the hopes and fears connected with it, and of his final despair as the ram rushed off, and then of the rebound of his spirits at Jack's declaration that he believed the ram had been hit. Altogether it was a very pleasant evening.
After the talk had a little quieted down, and supper was being cooked for the boys, Jack asked Hugh, "Where does this meat come from, Hugh?"
"Why," said Hugh, "Mr. Clifford and I went out and took a little walk, and he killed a good fat bull elk. We're going out to get the meat in the morning."
"Well," said Jack, "this seems to be a great day for the Clifford family," a remark which both Mr. Clifford and his son seemed to find very amusing, for they shouted with laughter at it.
The next morning Hugh and Mr. Clifford, with one of the pack horses, went off to bring in the bull, while Jack, Henry, and Jones, with another animal, climbed the ridge to get the ram.
On their way back the two boys were fortunate enough to come upon a little brood of ptarmigan, the young now almost full grown and the mother beginning to be touched with white on various parts of her body. The little birds were quite tame, and permitted a near approach, but at length one after another they flew away, pitching down the mountainside with the high-pitched cackle that this bird always utters.
That afternoon the boys were too tired to go out and hunt, and Mr. Clifford seemed satisfied with his success of the day before. The next day, however, Jack and Henry climbed the mountains on the other side of the pass. They soon found themselves among peaks much higher and more rugged and difficult than they had yet seen. They found some sheep and were endeavoring to stalk them when, without any warning, a blanket of white fog settled down over the mountain top, hiding the sheep and everything else, except things very close at hand. They tried to get a little closer to the sheep, but the fog was so dense and so confusing that Jack put a veto on their moving, and they sat there waiting for the fog to lift. Curious sounds were constantly coming to them from the mountainside. Rattling of rocks, calls of birds and of small mammals, and other sounds which they could not recognize. Once the fog lifted for a little, and Jack thought he saw standing at a distance three rams. He stared to see whether they actually were rams or only small rifts in the fog, and then before he could determine, the mist shut down again and blotted them out. As the boys sat there, there was a whirl of wings in the air, and presently all about them alighted curious little birds with gray crowns, brown bodies, and rosy breasts, active, noisy, and constantly searching for food among the rocks, while they constantly uttered a shrill, musical whistle.
After a while Henry seemed to tire of this inaction, and said to Jack, "What are we going to do, Jack? Can't we go on?"
"Why, yes," said Jack, "we can go on, but where do you want to go?"
"Why," said Henry, "let's keep on hunting, or if we can't hunt, let's go to camp."
"Well," said Jack, "where do you want to hunt, and what are you going to hunt when you can't see much more than arm's length ahead of you? Anything you might come near would be certain to see you before you saw it, and one jump would take it out of sight. A man's got to have the use of his eyes if he's going to hunt, and in this fog we haven't the use of ours. Moreover, we can't go back to camp, because we don't know where camp is, at least I don't. I think it's in one direction, but I'm not sure. Where do you think it is?" he said.
"It's over there," said Henry, pointing.
"Well," said Jack, "I think it's over there," and he pointed almost exactly in the opposite direction. But he went on, "Even if we knew just where it is, I don't want to stir around much on the side of this mountain while the fog is as thick as it is. It would be easy enough for a fellow to tumble over the edge of a cliff and break some of his bones, and if he did that the other people in his party wouldn't have a very good time, would they?"
"No," said Henry, "I don't think they would; but is there any danger?"
"I don't know that there's any real danger," said Jack, "but I don't think it's worth while to run any risks unless there's something to be gained by doing it."
"No," said Henry, "I suppose not, but I hate to sit here doing nothing."
"So do I," agreed Jack; "I hate it just as badly as you do, I guess; but I think it's better to do that than to do something that might make a whole lot of trouble for all of us. Hugh has been preaching patience to me for the last five years, and though I haven't learned very fast, I've got it partly learned, I think; and I know it's best for us to sit here until this fog lifts, or until we get some idea of where we'd better go."
They sat there for quite a long time, and then gradually the fog grew brighter, and presently slowly rolled away from them and up the cliffs toward the peak, and the sun shone over the mountainside. Jack crawled out from the shelter of the rock and scanned the peaks above him for sheep, but could see nothing, and as it was well on toward the middle of the afternoon, he told Henry that they had better go to camp.
Hugh and Mr. Clifford had also been out climbing for sheep, and had also been overtaken by the fog, but as they had not been so high up as the boys, it did not stop them so long. No game had been killed. Jones had been busy all day long drying the flesh of the elk, which Hugh had shown him how to cut into thin flakes and hang out in the sun and wind.
That afternoon Hugh took Jack apart and told him that they would do well to return down the Michigan and continue their journey toward Middle Park, and Jack assented.
"I like these English folks," said Hugh, "and if they were going our way, we'd be well pleased to have them travel with us, but we certainly are not going their way, and can't follow them. If they feel like turning 'round and coming back with us, I'll say 'come.'"
Later in the afternoon, as they were sitting around the campfire, Hugh said, "Well, Mr. Clifford, son and I calculated to start back to-morrow. We want to go on down into Middle Park, and maybe get a little more fur, and if, as I understand, you're going down this creek here and going to Middle Park that way, why, we've got to separate."
For a moment after Hugh had spoken there was silence, and then Mr. Clifford spoke rather slowly and hesitatingly, and said, "Mr. Johnson, we have greatly enjoyed the few days that we have been with you and your young friend, and in that short time both my son and myself have seen more and learned more about this western country than we ever could have done in any other way. We would take it as a great favor if you would permit us to turn around and travel back with you. We value your company very highly, and if we might go with you, it would be a great favor to us, and one for which I should be willing to pay well. Of course, I understand that if we were with you, you would not be so free as if you were alone; that we would take up some of your time; that we might interfere with your trapping arrangements, and taking all that into consideration, I should be glad to pay any reasonable sum per day for the privilege of camping with you."
For a moment or two Hugh said nothing, and then he spoke and said, "Mr. Clifford, son here and I like you all very much, and it's a pleasure to us to have you around. If you feel like turning back with us, we'll be glad to have you. We are not out here traveling around in the mountains altogether as a matter of business. It's partly for pleasure, although, of course, we have been trapping and we expect to sell the fur that we may get. If you feel like turning around and coming back with us, we'd be glad to have you do so. I don't reckon there need be any question of paying for anybody's time. We like to have you about, and as long as we keep on feeling that way, you better come. If we should disagree about anything, why, then we could stop and separate any time."
"We are very much obliged to you," said Mr. Clifford. "You have done us a great favor. If at any time you should feel that you and your young friend prefer to be alone, tell me and we will leave you at once."
Bright and early the next morning the little train was packed, and by afternoon it had reached the old camp where the bear trap stood. The train was stopped, and all four men rode up to look at the trap. Bears had been there in numbers, and of the old carcass that had been left in the pen, nothing was left except a few gnawed bones.
"If we had time to fool with them," said Hugh, "we could get another bear or two here, but I don't reckon it's worth while. Let's go on and get down the creek as far as we can to-night."
They hurried on, crossed the broad beaver meadow of the Michigan before dark, and camped on the other side.