Jack Among the Indians; Or, A Boy's Summer on the Buffalo Plains

by George Bird Grinnell

"Well," said Joe, "we've got some meat, anyhow. Now we've got to butcher and carry it back to the horses. Are you pretty strong? Can you carry a pretty good load?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "I guess if we're going to take in the whole sheep we've got to make two trips of it."

"Yes," said Joe, "I guess that's so."

They butchered and skinned the sheep, a yearling ram, but when they divided it into two parts and each tried to shoulder one they found that the load was too heavy to be carried; so Joe took a hind quarter and Jack a fore quarter and the skin, and carried it back to a point on the mountain nearly above the horses. Then they returned and brought the second load.

While they were resting, Jack said to Joe: "What is there up on top, Joe? I'd like to get up there, and take a look over at the country. It's only about the middle of the day, is it?"

Joe looked at the sun, knowingly, and said: "That's it. Noon."

"Well," said Jack, "we've got three or four hours before we'll have to start home. Let's climb up on top."

"All right," said Joe; "let's do it."

Before long they started upward toward the foot of the reef, aiming for a place where the rocks seemed broken away and discoloured, as if water flowed down there at some time of the year. At Joe's suggestion, Jack left his coat and the handkerchief he wore about his neck spread out over the meat, for this, Joe told him, would keep the birds and animals from feeding on it. The climb up to the top of the reef was not nearly so hard as Jack had supposed it would be, and it seemed that it did not take them more than half an hour to gain the high table-land that formed the mountain's summit. Here they could see a long way in every direction. The mountain was a great shoulder thrust out toward the prairie from other higher mountains behind it. Its top was almost flat, and was covered with fine broken stones. One might ride a horse over it in almost any direction. No trees grew there and no grass. It was all gray rock. A few patches of snow still lay on it, although it was now almost midsummer, and in several deep valleys that pierced the great shoulder, deep snow banks were still white among the scattering pines. On either side of this shoulder was a deep, wide valley. In one, lay the great lake from which flowed the river that Hugh and Jack had crossed on their way to the camp, in the other was a considerable stream, with a few small lakes along its course, the valley itself being overgrown with timber, except for an occasional little open, grassy park. Stretching away far to the east lay the prairie, green for the most part, but with the ridges brown, and out of it, a little to the north of east, rose three shadowy masses, which Jack felt sure must be mountains.