“Never mind, a baby can manage them, and you’ll soon catch on to the trick of sitting in a saddle,” said Steve, as they made the animals fast for the night in the store shed. “There’s one thing not to forget—whether you go without food and water, or not, be sure that Pat and Daisy don’t. A good horseman always takes care of his pony before he does of himself. If you ever need a horse, you’ll need it badly, and a pony will do more for a person who is kind to it than for one who isn’t. And don’t think a horse doesn’t know the difference, for it does.”
The animals attended to, Andy and the boys went into the store, where they purchased a supply of provisions, axes, woodmen’s hatchets, shovels, hammers and nails, and rifles and revolvers, with the necessary shells and cartridges.
“Ever do any shooting?” asked the agent, while Peleg was packing their stuff in stout sacks.
“Only a little, in shooting galleries,” returned Phil.
“Then you must learn. Peleg, you’d better triple that order of shells and cartridges.” Then, turning again to the boys, he continued: “You ought to practise, say, half an hour every day. You never know when you may stumble across a bear in these forests. When you get your cattle, you’re more than likely to be visited by mountain lions, and when you shoot at a bear or a lion, you want to shoot straight.”
Every minute that they were in the woods gave Phil and Ted a clearer understanding of the fact that they were in that part of the world where men were accustomed to rely upon their own resources and ingenuity, and the realization was rapidly developing them from care-free, happy-go-lucky school boys into sober manhood.
While the station agent had been dilating upon the necessity of being able to use their firearms intelligently, Phil and Ted had been handling the weapons, but their awkwardness showed they knew practically nothing about them.
“If I can’t read, I can shoot,” exclaimed Jennie. “Let me show you, Ted.” And taking his rifle, she explained to him how to load and empty the magazine and to hold the rifle when shooting, doing the same with the big 44 revolver. Then she made the boy go through the motions himself until, at last, he felt at home in working the different mechanisms.
“Remember,” she said, finally, “always to keep your guns clean and oiled and your shells and cartridges dry.”
“And if I was you, I’d sleep on my shooting irons,” advised Peleg. “Then you’ll know where they are and no one can steal them from you.”