“Um! Us know rancher—plenty grub in him lodge,” said Tally, significantly. Everybody laughed at his wink that accompanied the words.
The ride from Flat Top had been so strenuous that the scouts camped that night in the fir-tree lodge, as they had called it. All retired early, as they hoped to make a start at dawn in order to reach the rancher’s, where Tally said he could buy a stock of food.
But a number of timber wolves howled about the camp all the night through, keeping the tired travelers half-awake. Towards dawn they must have followed another scent, as all was quiet in the forests thereafter.
The Captain was startled out of a sound sleep by a strange “s-swish”—close to her ear. Springing up with the remembrance of the wolves, she heard Tally whisper through the pine-boughs, “Tell scout come see caribou in valley.”
In a few moments every one was up and out of the tree-lodge. The scouts saw the men crouching down behind a large boulder that stood near the verge of a steep descent to the green valley below. The curious girls soon joined them and then witnessed a most unusual sight.
Down in the valley, several hundred yards away, was a herd of caribou grazing on the juicy grass. A fine buck with antlers spreading far from each side of his head, jumped about as if worked by springs. If a cow got in his way he stamped his polished hoofs and threatened her with his flattened horns.
But the cows seemed not to mind such idle threats on the part of the bull, and continued grazing.
Julie laughed. “They’re suffrage caribou—they know how a male talks fine but seldom does what he brags about!”
This started an animated argument between Mr. Gilroy and the Scout Leader, which was suddenly hushed by the behavior of the buck. He lifted his nose, sniffed angrily and stamped his hoof in token that he resented any interference with his family’s breakfast.
“What’s the matter with him?” asked Joan in a whisper.