The Boy With the U. S. Survey

by Francis Rolt-Wheeler

The boy ran back to get a perspective view of the top of the boulder, and by climbing up the cliff a little way saw what had developed. In the meantime the position of the geologist was precarious in the extreme. A succession of short rushes he had narrowly escaped by dodging, but he knew that in a chase of this kind, he could not but lose, and if the goat should catch him with his horns not only would the injury be serious enough in itself, but probably he would be thrown from the rock to fall a distance of twenty feet to the icy and frost-bound ground below.

Suddenly Rivers saw his opportunity, and as the goat paused to turn at the end of a futile rush, he seized his horns sideways with a firm grasp, in such wise that the creature could not get a purchase with which to butt, and determined to hang on for dear life. He purposed, if it could be managed, to drive the goat to the edge of the boulder, and then, by twisting its neck, force it over the edge. It was a doubtful chance, but the only one he could see.

In the meantime Roger was cudgeling his brain for some means of climbing the rock, but to no purpose, and he could have bitten his nails in sheer vexation of spirit at his inability to give any aid, with his friend in so great peril a few steps away.

The boy watched and waited in the chance of getting a shot at the goat, but found it difficult to find an opportunity. Once, indeed, he fired, feeling sure that he could hit the animal's flank, but he was not certain enough of his prowess with a revolver to risk a shot when he was just as likely to hit his chief as he was the goat. Once, indeed, the boy thought Rivers had his foe, for he forced him to the edge of the boulder and put all his strength into a violent wrench. But a mountain goat, though not large, is possessed of considerable strength, and in his effort to free himself almost sent Rivers over the edge.

Then suddenly an idea occurred to the boy, and watching a chance, with a gentle toss he pitched his revolver up on the rock, hoping that the chief might be able to find some way of picking it up. A wild and vigorous scrambling could be heard, and a moment later the boy saw the couple again perilously near the edge of the rock.

"Thanks for the gun," he heard Rivers sing out, "I'll get hold of it in a minute."

But evidently the chief did not dare to let go the goat's horns, lest he should be caught before he had the revolver, and two or three minutes elapsed before the welcome sound of a shot came to the boy's ears.

Then Roger, looking up, was relieved beyond measure to see Rivers appear at the edge of the boulder mopping his forehead.

"Guess I'll throw him down," he said. "Of course we can't load ourselves down with the head, but the cook may want a steak or two," and suiting the action to the word, he dragged the animal to the side and flung him over. The boy noted immediately that the bullet had entered behind the ear and under the roots of the horns, so that the combat had been settled then and there.

The goat having been disposed of, Rivers made arrangements to come down, in the same way as he had gone up, by standing on the boy's shoulders, and both were glad when the chief reached the ground.