Jack in the Rockies: A Boy's Adventures with a Pack Train

by George Bird Grinnell

Not long after they had finished saddling up they heard a cheery call from the front of the stable, and, rushing out, Jack saw the wagon, piled up with food and beds, and Hugh and Baptiste, sitting in it. It took some little time to make up the packs, but by late afternoon this was done, the horses packed, and after shaking hands with Baptiste, the little train, with Hugh in the lead, Jack driving three pack horses, and Joe bringing up the rear, driving two more, filed out of the town and climbed the hills toward the upper prairie.

That afternoon they traveled until the sun went down, and then coming on a little coulee, through which water trickled, they camped. They were careful to picket all their horses; and after this was done, while Joe and Jack brought armfuls of willow brush from up and down the creek, Hugh cooked supper.

The next day they kept on. Now they were well away from the settlements, and game began to be seen. Only antelope, it is true, but of them there were plenty. Jack had a fair shot at a buck, at about a hundred and twenty-five yards, but failed to kill him—to his great mortification.

"Ha!" said Hugh, "you've got to learn how to shoot again; you shot too high, and missed him slick and clean. I remember the first shot you fired last year, when you first came out; you shot high then, just as you did now. When we get to camp to-night, you and Joe had better go out and shoot three or four times at a mark. You have got to learn your gun over again, and Joe of course has got to learn his for the first time." Jack had brought out from New York a gun for Joe, carefully selected from the stock of one of the largest rifle manufacturers in the world, and as yet Joe had not fired a shot out of it; but he seemed never to tire of looking at it, and putting it up to his shoulder, and sighting at various objects. That night they camped on a great swiftly rushing stream, near some high hills, or low mountains; and while he was cooking supper Hugh sent them off to try their guns. With the axe they shaved off the outer bark from a thick cottonwood tree, and making a black mark on the brown surface, each fired five shots at it. Jack's first two shots were high, but the next three were clustered within the size of a silver dollar, all about the mark. Joe did not shoot quite so steadily, two of his shots being above, and two below, and one a little off to one side. When they returned to camp and Hugh asked them about their shooting, they told him, and he advised them to fire a few more shots after supper, and, if necessary, a few in the morning.

"There's nothing, I hate worse than to hear a gun fired about camp," he said, "but guns are no use to people unless they understand them, and you boys must get used to your guns. It won't take you more than a very few shots to do this, and you certainly must do it."

The next morning they started on again. No signs had yet been seen of the Indians, but this day they saw a few buffalo, old bulls, mostly off to the north of them. In the afternoon they passed by the Moccasin Mountains, and camped on a little stream flowing into the Judith River. After they had unpacked their animals and made camp, Hugh said to Jack, "Son, have you ever been here before? Do you see anything that you recognize?"

"Why, no Hugh," said Jack, "I don't think I do;" and standing up he took a long look about him, up and down the valley, and at the hills on either side. Suddenly his face brightened, and he said, "Why yes I do, too. I know where we are. This is just where we came through last year, the second day after I got caught in the quicksands in the Musselshell."

"That's so," said Hugh, "this is just where we came. I wondered if you'd recognize it. You ought to do so, and I'm glad you do.

"Right over a few miles east of us is what we used to call old Camp Lewis. There used to be a trading store there, and a camp of soldiers, and a few men got killed there, mostly soldiers. I remember coming through here not many years ago, the afternoon after some soldiers got killed on the bank of the creek, right close to the camp. There was a camp of Crows there then—about three hundred lodges. The Sioux came down, and ran off some government horses, and killed three recruits that were fishing here in the creek, and the Crows took after 'em, and had quite a fight, and Long Horse, the Crow chief got killed. They got seven of the Sioux, I think. They had quite a time here in the camp then. I remember Yellowstone Kelly was here, and three or four other men; I think the Sioux set them all afoot."

The next morning while Hugh was getting breakfast he said to Jack: "Son, why don't you kill some meat? You are going through a country where game is fairly plenty; anyway, antelope are, and there's a few buffalo; and besides that, here are some mountains right close to you, where there's surely lots of sheep. You boys had better make up your minds to do something to-day; if you don't I'll have to start out and hunt, to kill meat for the camp."