The golden west boys, "Injun" and "Whitey": a story of adventure

by William S. Hart

The two boys were awake, had breakfasted, and were on their way, almost at sun-up the following morning. As the day advanced, the gradual rise in the ground became more perceptible, and the mountains began to come nearer. The trees and shrubs became thicker and the ground more rocky and uneven; and long before dusk began to settle down they found themselves on the shores of Moose Lake, and well into the foot-hills of the Rockies.

Moose Lake was a considerable body of water, being perhaps nine or ten miles in length, though its greatest breadth was not more than a mile and a half. Its shores were rocky and heavily wooded; in some places they rose high and precipitous from the water's edge, while at other points they sloped gradually down in sandy beaches. The water was clear and very cold and in many places the bottom was visible at a depth of twenty feet or more.

Injun led the way around the southern end of the lake and toward the West, for a couple of miles, though the horses found the going very rough and they were obliged to pick their way carefully among the stones that lay in masses upon the steep slope of the mountain. After a time a small glade lay before them, and at one end of it was a cabin that evidently was deserted, but in sufficiently good condition to allow it to be inhabited, and to furnish some protection against the weather and wild animals. Here the boys proceeded to establish themselves, and after unpacking their belongings, they bestowed them in proper and convenient places about the cabin.

At the sides of the cabin were two sleeping-bunks—little else than narrow shelves; but the boys, taking their hatchets, went out into the thick growth of pine, and soon returned with armfuls of fragrant boughs which they placed in the bunks to a depth of two feet, and made them comfortable. Soon a fire was blazing on the primitive stone hearth, and the water boiling in the camp-kettle suspended above it. The horses were tethered so that they might graze freely, and everything made ship-shape for the night, though there was an hour or more of daylight remaining.

"There!" said Whitey, with a look of satisfaction, "this may not be quite so up-to-date as the ranch-house, but I'd rather be here than there."

Injun nodded and grinned his assent to this, but by the way he kept moving, showed that he was not yet through.

"Him get fish plenty supper," he said, as he got out some of the tackle that Whitey had brought. Whitey needed no urging, and fitted his jointed rod together and got out his book of flies. These Injun regarded curiously; he had no intention of fishing himself—that wasn't the way he fished—but he wanted to see how the thing worked.

At the lake, the boys went along the edge, Injun showing the way until, evidently locating a mark, he stopped and scrambled down to some rocks that were over-grown with brush. Making his way into this, he lifted out a canoe and two paddles, much to the delight of Whitey; and a moment after, under the skillful strokes of Injun's paddle, they were gliding over the glassy bosom of the waters, with scarcely a sound or a ripple.

Whitey, sitting in the bow of the canoe, put a leader and fly on his line and made ready to cast; but Injun shook his head. He steered softly near to where a huge tree bent over the lake, and stopped the canoe, and Whitey cast the line so that the fly struck the water some thirty feet away.

Almost at the instant that the fly hit the water, it was snatched under, and Whitey felt a tug at his line and started to play the fish. He had learned something of the art when he had been in the Adirondacks with his father, but he was not quite prepared for any such fight as this fish put up. It darted this way and that, at times leaping out of the water and shaking the hook like a dog shakes a rat. But finally, all his fight availed the fish nothing; for he lay in the bottom of the canoe, still making a few weak flops, but conquered. Injun took a piece of string, and tying a stick to one end, he ran the other through the gills of the fish and let him trail in the water in the wake of the canoe.