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

by George Bird Grinnell

An hour or two of hard, fast riding brought him to the point where he had come upon the trail that morning, and he could see, looking ahead, that here it turned off and struck in toward the hills, apparently to go up one of two valleys. There was water in both,—not much down here on the dry bottom, but further back in the hills and among the timber he knew that these streams were running brooks, and that on both there were wide grassy meadows and places very likely to be chosen by people driving a bunch of horses, in which to stop and let them feed and rest. If he had been following Indians who had driven off a band of horses that they had stolen from an Indian camp, he would have gone carefully, for Indians would have left behind scouts who, from the top of some high hill, would have watched the back trail for at least a few hours; but he did not think that white men would do this. He had reason to think that if these were rustlers—horse thieves—they had gone over the range after the horse round-up was over, and gathering these horses, had driven them slowly, perhaps by night, until they had got beyond the last ranch, and then had hurried them along, hoping to get them out of the country without observation.

On the other hand, these might not be horse thieves, but might be people who were driving their own stock in a legitimate way, for some purpose of their own; but he could not understand how this should be, and the presence in the bunch of an animal with Mr. Sturgis' brand made him feel that he must investigate.

The trail led toward the westernmost of the two valleys, and Hugh followed it. The sun was almost down when he got well into the valley, but he could see that the horses were still going fast, and he hurried the dun along, for he was anxious if possible to find the herd that night. It grew dark rapidly, but still he rode on, galloping fast over the grassy bottom, and going more slowly only when he came to the crossings of streams, or to rocky ground, where his horse's hoofs made some noise. Of course the dun, like all the other horses, was unshod, so that there was no clink of iron against stone, to be heard at a distance.

After he had ridden for three or four hours in the dark, he stopped, took off his saddle and bridle, and holding the rope which was about the dun's neck in his hand, let the animal walk about. It took a few bites of grass, and then lay down and rolled three or four times, and then getting up, shook itself. Then Hugh put the saddle on, re-mounted, and went forward. All the time he was looking and listening as hard as he could. He had gone but a little distance beyond this place, when suddenly he heard the whinney of a little colt, and stopped.

Taking his horse by the bridle he walked forward, and before he had gone very far saw a horse standing near him, and then another, and presently a number of horses, and knew that he was in the midst of the bunch. He took a long look on every side. The valley here was wide, but on either side he could see the black mountains rising, and he did not know just how far the timber came down into the valley. Now he wanted to find where the camp was, and mounting his horse he took a long look up and down the stream on both sides, and there on his right, and not far off, he detected what he thought was the glow of a fire.

Passing on north, until he had gone well above the place where he supposed the camp must be, he tied his horse to a little bush, and then walking over to the edge of the valley, close to the stream, he silently drew nearer to the camp. Before long he was close enough to see the dim light of the fire, and knew that some where near it must be lying the men who had the horses in charge. This was enough for him. He went back, got his horse, and going further up the stream, crossed it, and finding an open place sat down, holding his horse's rope in his hand until the animal had eaten its fill. Then, still on foot, he climbed the mountain, tied up his horse in a thick bunch of brush where it could not be seen, took off the saddle, and after eating some dried meat, went along the mountain side back to a point opposite the camp, and finding a smooth place, lay down, wrapped himself in his saddle blanket, and went to sleep.

It was still dark when he awoke, but he sat up, stretched himself, and involuntarily felt in his pocket for his pipe, and then smiled a little as he recollected that now he could not smoke. He folded his blanket, and laid it behind the trunk of a tree, and then very slowly began to make his way down the mountain side toward the camp. Before he had gone far, he began to hear the calls of early waking birds, and to be conscious that in the little patches of sky that he saw from time to time the stars were growing paler. He went very slowly and carefully, feeling his way with hands and feet, never brushing against the branch of a tree, or stepping on a stick which might crack. The men in the camp below were probably fast asleep and would not notice the sounds that he might make, but the matter was too important for him to run any risks. After a time it grew lighter, and presently he could hear below him the rattle of the water as it flowed over the stones; and as it grew more and more light, the dim shadows of the horses in the open, and the dark outlines of the bushes on the stream were seen. The mountain side just over the camp was steep and thickly clothed with spruces, most of them of large size, but with many small ones growing among them. If he had himself chosen a place for these men to camp, he could not have selected one that would have been better suited to his purpose. As the light grew stronger, he worked down closer and closer to the camp, until he was as near it as he dared go. Then he began to look about for a place from which he could see it, for first of all he wished to discover who the men were who had the horses. It might be that this would at once explain the whole matter.

After a little manœuvering he found a place where, through the thin branches of a young spruce, he could look directly down into the camp. There were the ashes of a fire, and not far from it, on the smooth dry grass, were three piles, two of them covered with canvas such as cow punchers commonly use to wrap their beds in, and the other with a gray blanket. He knew that he might now have to wait a long time, and was prepared to exercise patience. He had set his gun on the hillside, against a tree, where it would not fall down, and at the same time would be in easy reach of his hand if he should need it.

He sat there for an hour, occasionally looking at the sleeping men, but for the most part studying through the glasses the horses that fed not far from him.

After the light grew strong but a glance was needed to see that this was not a bunch of work horses, but was range stock, picked up anywhere. He could see the fresh brands on colts and yearlings, and could recognize some of them without his glasses. Through the glasses these fresh brands, many of which had as yet scarcely begun to peel, stood out very plainly, and in many cases the old brand could readily be distinguished. Besides this, there were many horses which he perfectly well knew, without seeing the brands,—animals that he recognized as occupying the range which he was accustomed to ride over. He chuckled to himself as he saw these, and thought, "My, my, wouldn't Mr. Sturgis and Powell and Joe be hot if they were here;" and then he thought, "I wish they were here, for if they were we could take in these three fellows mighty easy."