Jack the Young Trapper: An Eastern Boy's Fur Hunting in the Rocky Mountains

by George Bird Grinnell

"I hope so," said the foreman, "but I don't think he is one of the kind that learns lessons."

The foreman sat with them until they had finished supper, and then getting up said, "Well, I must be going. I've got to round up my outfit and get them started to-morrow morning, if I can. A mighty good cup of coffee you gave me. So long."

The next night they camped close to Laramie, and early the next day went into the town and purchased their supplies, not forgetting a pair of rubber boots for each. It was only the middle of the morning when the loads were put on and they started south over the open prairie on their way to North Park. Now Jack felt that the trip had really begun.

The ride over the open prairie was delightful. The mountains toward which they were journeying showed many strange shapes and curious colors, and the wagon road which they were following was constantly dipping down steep hills and climbing others. The first few miles showed them many cattle and horses, but no game, but later, as they approached the mountains, a few antelope began to be seen, and there were many well-known western birds of the dry country, which now for two years Jack had not seen.

Towards evening they reached Beaver Creek, a tributary of the Laramie, and after following it up for a few miles, camped for the night. The day had been a long one, and not long after supper both Hugh and Jack turned into their blankets and were soon sound asleep.

Off again at an early hour next morning, they traveled for a long way through the pleasant green timber, where the foot fall of the horses made no sound on the forest floor of dead pine needles, and where no sound was heard except occasionally the call of a gray jay, the rattle of a woodpecker's bill on a dead limb, or the soft whistle of a crossbill in the tree tops.

Jack felt obliged to follow behind Hugh, though he really wanted to ride beside him and talk about the pleasant country through which they were passing. Still it was his business to watch the horses, especially so now during the first day of travel through the timber, where a pack horse, unless watched, might possibly get hung up by a tree and break something or disturb his pack.

It was this morning, after leaving camp on the Beaver, that they came to what is called the Neck of the Park, and passing over the divide, followed down the valley, at first narrow, but gradually becoming wider, which at length lead them to a more open country. They passed Pinkham's Ranch, and then took the right-hand road, which Hugh said led to the mines at Hahn's Peak.

Soon after leaving Pinkham's, they passed a cabin, near which was a small spring, from which bubbled up a constant supply of cool water abundantly charged with what Jack thought might be carbonate of soda. At all events the water was fresh, sparkling, and delicious, and he thought that if it were nearer to a market it might be bottled and sold.

Soon after they left the soda water fountain, they crossed a high steep ridge and then passed down a gentle descent toward the North Platte River. On either side of the trail they were following the mountains were rough, and weathered pillars of granite stood out bare among the ancient cedars on the hillside.