"By George," cried the Tenderfoot joyfully, while the rod jerked in his hand, "I've got a bite!"
CHAPTER XIII
Down by the American boundary a stream called Eagle Creek has cut a ravine two hundred feet deep in the plateau at the base of the Rockies, carving the banks into a medley of grotesque and isolated mounds strewn with boulders, nearly void of grass, whose eccentric shapes give the view from the bottom a most singular and impressive contour. The stream itself had dwindled under the autumn heat, leaving only a string of miry ponds, whose stagnant waters fed the few fruit-laden shrubs upon their margins, and beside them was half an acre left of pleasant grass. Here were round patches, traces of camp-fires, by which many travellers in that lonely way had been wont to rest. How waggons got down the trail to the bottom without accident is one of the many wonders of the West.
The sun was set behind the Selkirks, the wind was sinking, the air had a blue dryness blown from some forest fire; heavy, sultry enough to make all nature sulk. Foxes were dodging about from cover to cover, a crane stood melancholy in the untroubled water, meditating on one leg, hopeless of even a desultory minnow by way of supper. A cloud of dust arose behind the southern boundary of the ravine, the crane flapped sorrowfully away, hearing a distant tramp of horses, and presently a mounted man in bright cavalry uniform rode to the edge of the hills, standing out against the deepening sky a beautiful silhouette, motionless as a statue. Then, two by two, came twenty mounted men, each with a rifle poised on the horn of his Mexican saddle, and many a glittering point of brass and steel about his harness. At a word of command they dismounted to advance, leading their horses down the slope; while behind them appeared five waggons, each carrying two men, and a rear-guard of two, who lingered a bit to be clear of the dust which arose in clouds from the groaning wheels of the transport. Some of these riders wore canvas clothes adorned with brass buttons, some buckskin suits, or blue flannel shirts, or old red jackets, according to the pleasure of the wearers. All had riding-boots, spurs, leather belts carrying a row of brass cartridges, and big revolvers with a lanyard buckled to the butts, and passing over one shoulder.
Reaching the level land at the bottom, the mounted men formed up in line, and the waggons drew up behind them, forty feet apart; a rope was stretched along the waggon line, then, leaving his saddle at the dismounting point, each trooper had made his horse fast to the rope before ever the teams were unharnessed. Meanwhile three men from the transport had selected a spot by some bushes where an iron bar was set on uprights five feet apart; and, before the sound of axes had ceased in the bush behind, three full camp kettles swung over a roaring fire. A bell tent was pitched for the officer in command, Inspector Fraser Gaye; the horses were watered, groomed, fed with a liberal ration of oats; then, at a last merry call from the bugle, there was a general dash to the waggons for plates and cups, and knives were whipped from belt or bootleg, ready for an astonishing slaughter of fried pork and hard tack, mitigated with lashings of scalding tea. The meal was followed by an uplifting of delicate grey smoke toward the clouds, and a lively fire of chaff in most of the British and American dialects.
At times the whole crowd would turn upon one or two who dared to converse in their native French-Canadian patois, "A wuss Nitchie! Can't you talk white? Get away back to your reserve, or behave like a white man, you mongrel!"
But all this was silenced presently, because the horses must be hobbled, or picketed out for the night, and a guard of three men was detailed to watch by turns until sunrise. Blankets were being spread out along the saddle line, and in and under the waggons; first post sounded, last post sounded, then the third of the bugle melodies.
"That's all, boys. Dream of the girls you've lost. Lights—out!"
So the last sad notes echoed away along the sterile hills, and there was silence under the starlight.