Jack, the Young Ranchman: A Boy's Adventures in the Rockies

by George Bird Grinnell

"After they get a little bigger," said Hugh to Charley, "unless they should grow tame, you will either have to drive more poles into the ground or else you'll have to kill the pups. They're so big now that I think it's pretty doubtful whether they ever get tame at all, and of course if they don't get tame, the only thing to do is to kill them. I've seen a heap of wolf and coyote puppies caught, but they've got to be mighty young ever to lose their wildness, and to get so that you can do anything with them. We'll have to leave our pup here until it gets a little older and we see whether they are likely to get tame or not."

They bade good-bye to the Powell family, with cordial thanks for all their kindness, and invitations for them to come over to the ranch and visit them for a few days.

Jack said to Charley, "After awhile, when the elks' horns get big, and they get fat, come over with the waggon and we'll go out and kill two or three, and you can take back the meat with you. Hugh says we only have to go two or three miles from the house upon the mountain, to get all the elk we want."

On their way back they rode down the bluffs, not far from where Jack had killed the lion, and here, as they were going along, Jack suddenly saw, not far in front of him, a queer, dark grey object, shaped somewhat like a big tortoise, running along on the prairie in front of him. In a moment he recognised that it was a sage grouse, with wings partly extended and body held low, and for a moment he did not know what to make of the bird's action.

"Hold on, son," said Hugh, "there's where she started from;" and he pointed to a low sage-bush a little to one side. "Get off your horse and go and look under that, and see what there is there." Jack did so, and saw a hollow in the ground, scantily lined with bits of grass, in which were thirteen greyish eggs, not so large as an ordinary hen's egg.

"Oh, Hugh!" he called back, "There are thirteen eggs; can't we take them along?" Hugh rode up to the spot, leading Jack's horse, and looked at the nest. "Well, now," he said, "seems to me I would not bother with that nest; we've got a long way to go yet, and the chances are we'd smash the eggs before we got home, and if we didn't do that, they'd be pretty sure to get cold, and wouldn't hatch. Let's leave that old hen alone, and some day we'll hunt up a nest right close to home, and get a setting of eggs there. 'Tain't no use to take these eggs without they're going to do us some good."

"Well, all right," said Jack, rather reluctantly, as he turned away. "We've got a long way to go, but do you suppose we'll be able to find another nest near the ranch?"

"I expect we will," was the answer; "though of course it isn't any sure thing; it's getting pretty late to find eggs now; we won't have any trouble finding young ones, though."

Jack mounted, and from the saddle looked about to try to see the old hen, but she had disappeared; so they went on.

The supper horn sounded that night just as they were riding up the valley, toward the house, and before they had unsaddled all hands were seated at the table. Before the meal was ended, Jack had to tell the story of his killing the lion, and of the death of the wolf; and after supper he brought in his roll of hides, and spread out both the lion and the wolf skin on the floor, so that all might see them. The men were loud in their congratulations, and Joe declared that he would have given a horse to have been in Jack's place. "You're in the biggest kind of luck, Jack," he said. "I've been riding the range right around here now for five years and I never caught a glimpse of a lion yet. I've helped to rope three bears, but of course that's no trick at all if you know your horse. I roped a cow elk once, and what's more, brought her into the ranch. I had better luck that time than old Vicente, down below here. He roped a bull elk, just on the edge of the rocky ground. His horse was small and the elk drug him a little way, and he got scared and turned his rope loose, and the elk went off up the mountain, dragging a twelve-dollar raw-hide rope behind him. But I'd have liked almighty well to have been along with you fellows, and had a chance to have a shot at that lion. You were sure in great luck."