RIDING NORTHWARD.
And so it came about that on a sharp, crisp day early in the month of
October, two sturdy youths left the Union Pacific train at Fort Steele,
which is situated in a broad depression between two divisions of the
Wind River Mountains, themselves forming a part of the vast Rocky
Mountain chain, which, under different names, stretches along the
western portion of the two continents from the Arctic Ocean on the north
to the extreme southern end of South America.
Like the sensible youths they were, Jack Dudley and Fred Greenwood had
made the fullest preparation possible for the experience which was
destined to prove tenfold more eventful than either anticipated. Mr.
Dudley, in accordance with his promise, had presented each with a fine
repeating Winchester rifle, an excellent revolver, an abundant supply of
cartridges, and various knick-knacks which the hunter is sure to find
are more in the nature of necessities than luxuries.
They had tough corduroy suits, a material which, as everyone knows,
wears like leather, though it is unpopular in the West because of its
unpleasant odor when wet. From the knees downward the lower part of the
legs were protected by strong leathern leggings, and the shoes were made
for wear rather than display. The coats were rather short and gathered
at the waists by a belt, while beneath the garment it was intended to
wear the cartridge-belt. The revolver rested in a sheath, instead of
being thrust into a trouser's-pocket at the hip, while their hats
suggested the sombrero pattern, so popular among cowboys and cattlemen.
The brim was broad and stiff, so that it was not liable to bother their
vision when the wind was blowing, and it could be depended upon to
protect the eyes and face from the sun and rain. Their whole outfit, in
short, was strong, comfortable and serviceable.
The two were generously furnished with money, while Mr. Dudley arranged
with a banker at Laramie City to furnish the boys with whatever funds
they might need through accident or robbery. They were going into a
region where there were many lawless characters, and everything was done
to provide against all possible contingencies.
Their extra clothing and articles were contained in a couple of valises,
which were put off the train upon the lonely platform at Fort Steele.
But while this marked the farthest distance they could travel by rail, a
long ride still confronted them before reaching the ranch, which was
almost half-way between the railroad and the Big Horn Mountains to the
northeast. Several streams had to be crossed, the country in many places
was rough, and there was no stage line to help them. All this, however,
had been discounted before the boys left the city of Chicago, and what
they encountered was only what was expected, and only that for which
they were prepared.
Word having been sent in advance of their expected arrival, the first
act of the youths was to look around for the man or men who were to meet
and conduct them to the ranch. A few people were moving about the long,
low platform, several in the uniform of United States infantry and
cavalry, while a couple of Indians in blankets, untidy and sullen,
surveyed them with scowls. Few passengers were in the habit of leaving
the train at this point, so that some curiosity on the part of the
loungers was natural. Perhaps the agent at the station suspected them of
being runaways whose heads had been turned by stories of wild adventure,
and who had set out to annihilate the aborigines of the West; but if
such a fancy came to the man, it must have vanished when he noticed
their intelligent appearance and the completeness of their outfit. Boys
who start on such whimsical careers are never rightly prepared, and have
no conception of the absurdity of their schemes until it is forced upon
them by sad and woeful experience.
"Are you looking for any one?" asked the agent; respectfully.
"Yes, sir," replied Jack Dudley; "we are on our way to a ranch which
lies to the eastward of Camp Brown, not far from Wind River."
"May I ask your errand thither?"
"My father is part owner of the ranch, and we wish to visit it for a few
weeks."
"Ah, you are the young men that Hank Hazletine was asking about
yesterday. He has charge of Bowman's ranch."
"That's the place. What has become of Mr. Hazletine?"
"I think he is over at the fort, and will soon be here. He brought a
couple of horses for you to ride. Ah, here he comes now."
The boys saw the man at the same moment. He was walking rapidly from the
direction of the fort, and looking curiously at the youths, who surveyed
him with interest as he approached. He was full-bearded, tall, and as
straight as an arrow, dressed in cowboy costume, and the picture of
rugged strength and activity. His manner was that of a man who, having
made a mistake as to the hour of the arrival of the train, was doing his
best to make up for lost time.
Stepping upon the long, low platform, he walked toward the lads, his
Winchester in his left hand, while he extended his right in salutation.
"Howdy?" he said, heartily, as he took the hand of Fred Greenwood, who
advanced several paces to meet him. "I reckon you're the younkers I'm
waiting for."
"If you are Hank Hazletine, you are the man."
"That's the name I gin'rally go by; which one of you is Jack Dudley?"
"I am," replied that young gentleman.
"Then t'other one is Fred Greenwood, eh?" he asked, turning toward the
younger.
"You have our names right."
"Glad to know it; I got your letter and looked for you yesterday; have
been loafing 'round here since then."
"We were not sure of the exact time of our arrival and missed it by
twenty-four hours," said Jack; "I hope it caused you no inconvenience."
"Not at all--not at all. Wal, I s'pose you're ready to start for the
ranch, younkers?"
"We are at your disposal; we have quite a long ride before us."
"We have; it'll take us two or three days to git there, if all goes
well."
"Suppose all doesn't go well?" remarked Fred.
"We shall be longer on the road; and if it goes too bad we'll never git
there; but I ain't looking for anything like that. Where's your
baggage?"
Jack pointed to the two plump valises lying on the platform, near the
little building.
"That and what we have on us and in our hands make up our worldly
possessions."
"That's good," said Hazletine. "I was afeard you might bring a load of
trunks, which we'd had a purty time getting to the ranch; but there
won't be any trouble in managing them; I'll be right back."
He turned away, and soon reappeared, mounted on a fine, wiry pony, and
leading on either side a tough little animal, saddled and bridled and
ready for the boys.
"There ain't any better animals in Wyoming or Colorado," he explained;
"they can travel fast and fur a long time. We'll strap on that stuff and
be off."
There was no trouble in securing the baggage to the rear of the saddles,
when Jack and Fred swung themselves upon the backs of the ponies,
adjusted their Winchesters across the saddles in front, following the
suggestions of Hazletine, and announced themselves ready to set out on
the long ride northward. The animals struck into an easy canter, and a
few minutes later all signs of civilization were left behind them.
The boys were in buoyant spirits. There was just enough coolness in the
air to make the exercise invigorating. Here and there a few snowy flecks
dotted the blue sky, but the sun shone with undimmed splendor, the
warmth slightly increasing as the orb climbed the heavens. To the
northward the undulating plain was unbroken by hill or stream, so far as
the eye could note, while to the eastward the prospect was similar,
though they knew that the North Platte curved over in that direction,
and, after winding around the upper end of the Laramie Mountains, joined
the main stream far over in Nebraska.
To the westward the prospect was romantic and awe-inspiring. The Wind
River range towered far up in the sky in rugged grandeur, following a
course almost parallel with their own, though gradually trending more to
the left, in the direction of Yellowstone Park. The snow-crowned peaks
looked like vast banks of clouds in the sky, while the craggy portions
below the frost-line were mellowed by the distance and softly tinted in
the clear, crystalline atmosphere. The mountains formed a grand
background to the picture which more closely environed them.
As the three galloped easily forward they kept nearly abreast, with the
ranchman between them. He was in a pleasant mood, and seemed to have
formed a fancy for the youths, who felt a natural admiration for the
big, muscular veteran of the plains and mountains.
"Yes," said he, in answer to their inquiries; "I've spent all my life as
a cattleman, cowboy, hunter or trapper. I left the States with my
parents, when a small younker, with an emigrant train fur Californy.
Over in Utah, when crawling through the mountains, and believing the
worst of the bus'ness was over, the Injins come down on us one rainy
night and wiped out nearly all. My father, mother and an older brother
was killed, and I don't understand how I got off with my scalp, but I
did, with half a dozen others."
"Did you go on to California?"
"No; I've never been in that country, which I s'pose you'll think
strange; but I was on my way there, when I met the great scout Kit
Carson and several hunters. They took me along with 'em, and the next
twenty years of my life was spent in New Mexico, Arizona and Texas.
Since then I've ranged from the Panhandle to Montana, most of the time
in the cattle bus'ness."
"At what are you engaged just now?" inquired Jack.
"The same--that is, the cattle bus'ness. You may know that after
thousands of the critters have spent the summer in Texas, New Mexico and
Arizona, they drive 'em north into Wyoming, Montana and the Dakotas, to
git their finishing touches. The grazing is so much better than in the
south that in a few months they're ready for the market, and are either
killed and their carcasses shipped to the East, or they are took there
by train in as fine condition as anybody could ask. You obsarve that the
grass under our feet is powerful good."
The boys replied that it seemed to be.
"Wal, there's hundreds of thousands of acres better than this; there's
thirty thousand of 'em in Bowman's ranch, where we're going, and it's
the best kind of grazing land."
"I believe it extends to the Wind River Mountains," said Jack.
"It takes in a part of the foot-hills; there are plenty of streams
there, and some of the finest grass in the world."
Jack Dudley did not forget the real object of the coming of himself and
companion to this section, and he could not gather the information too
soon.
"How does Bowman's ranch compare with others in Central Wyoming?"
"You may ride over the whole State without finding a better. If you
doubt it, look at the country for yourself."
"We don't doubt anything you tell us," said Fred Greenwood. "I suppose
you know that Mr. Dudley, the father of my friend, owns half the ranch?"
"I've heerd that."
"He didn't intend to buy it, but matters so shaped themselves that he
couldn't help doing so. Before selling it, he sent us to take a look at
it and find out whether it is all that was claimed. We have come to do
that, but, at the same time, are eager to have some hunting among the
mountains."
"You won't have any trouble about that. As I was saying, we're close to
the mountains, and when you're ready I'll go with you, and promise that
you'll have something to talk about as long as you live."
The eyes of the boys sparkled as they looked across at each other, and
Jack said:
"Nothing could delight us more. We need a veteran like yourself, and are
happy to know you can serve us."
"How many months can you stay in Wyoming?"
"How many months?" laughed Jack. "We are under promise to be back at
school in New York on the first of November."
"Whew! I wish the time was longer."
"So do we; but we had a hard enough task to get the month, so we must
make the best use of it."
"Wal, we can crowd a good 'eal into two or three weeks, and I won't let
you go to sleep in the daytime--I'll promise you that."
Hazletine produced a brierwood pipe and pressed some tobacco in the
bowl. Although the motion of their ponies caused quite a brisk breeze,
he lighted a match and communicated the flame to the tobacco without
checking the speed of his animal. Then he glanced admiringly to the
right and left, at his companions.
"You're a couple of as fine-looking younkers as I've seed in a long
time; but you're almost as tall as me, and it seems to me you orter be
through with school."
"We expect to stay in school another year and then spend four in
college, after which several years will be needed to get ready for some
profession."
"Great Jiminy!" exclaimed the astonished ranchman; "you must be powerful
dumb, or else there's more to larn than I ever dreamed of."
"Well," said Jack, with a laugh at the simplicity of the fellow, "there
are plenty of boys a great deal smarter then we, but the smartest of
them can spend their whole lives in study and not learn a hundredth part
of what is to be learned."
Hank puffed his pipe slowly and looked seriously at the youth for a
minute without speaking. Then he said, as if partly speaking to himself:
"I s'pose that's so; a chap can go on larning forever, and then die
without knowing half of it. I never had much chance at eddycation, but
managed to pick up 'nough to read and write a letter and to do a little
figgering, but that's all."
"That is what you may call your book education; but how much more you
know of the rivers, the mountains, the climate, the soil, the game, the
Indians, and everything relating to the western half of our country! In
that respect we are but as babes compared with you."
"I s'pose that's so, too," replied the hunter, evidently impressed by
the fact that these youths were destined, if their lives were spared, to
become excellent scholars. He was so thoughtful that they did not
interrupt his meditations, and for a considerable while the three rode
in silence.
It need not be said that Jack and Fred kept their wits about them and
took note of everything in their field of vision. The season had been an
unusually favorable one for Wyoming, the rains having been all that was
required to make the grass succulent, nourishing and abundant. They
could have turned their ponies loose at any point, after leaving the
railway behind them, and the animals would have been able to crop their
fill. It was the same over hundreds of square miles, a fact which
readily explains why many portions of Wyoming rank as the best grazing
country in the world.
It was not yet noon when they rode down a slight declivity to a stream
several rods in width. The water was so clear that the bottom could be
plainly seen from their saddles, the depth being no more than two or
three feet. The ponies paused to drink, and, as they emerged on the
other side and started up the gentle slope, Hazletine suggested that for
a time at least they should be held down to a walk.
One anxiety began to impress itself upon the minds of Jack and Fred.
They were not only hungrier than they had been for months, but that
hunger was increasing at an alarming rate. Neither had brought any lunch
with them, and they wondered how food was to be obtained. Jack almost
fainted at the awful suspicion that perhaps their friend intended to
break them in by making the two or three days' journey to the ranch
without eating anything at all!
"I suppose it would be no trouble for _him_," was the lugubrious thought
of the youth, "but it will be the death of us!"
Happily this dread proved unfounded. The sun had hardly crossed the
meridian when both lads were thrilled by the declaration of Hazletine:
"Wal, if you younkers are as hungry as me, we'll have a bite."
They were in the middle of the undulating plain, with no wood or water
in sight; but that was a small matter. In a twinkling all three were out
of their saddles, and the guide unstrapped a large bundle from its
fastening to the saddle of his pony. This, being unwrapped, disclosed a
goodly portion of cooked and tender steak and plenty of well-baked brown
bread. Furthermore, there were a couple of bottles of milk--enough for
two meals at least.
These having been placed on the grass, the bits were removed from the
mouths of their horses, who were allowed to graze while their masters
were partaking of one of the most enjoyable meals they had ever eaten.
"If I'd expected to be alone," explained Hazletine, "I wouldn't have
brought this stuff with me, but we may not see a maverick or any game
all the way home. I wouldn't mind it, but I don't s'pose you are used to
it."
"I should say not," replied Jack, as well as he could, while his mouth
was filled with bread, meat and milk; "I'm hungry enough to eat a mule."
"And I feel as if I could chew his saddle," added Fred, laboring under
the same difficulty in speaking clearly. "If our appetites keep up at
this rate, there will be a shrinkage among the cattle in Wyoming before
we go home."
"What do you mean by a maverick?" asked Jack of their guide.
"It's an unbranded cow or calf that don't b'long to nobody, and
consequently it don't make no difference whether nobody or somebody
brands or kills it."
The rhetoric of this sentence may not have been faultless, but its
meaning was clear to the boys. They ate until they wished no more, and
were vastly relieved to note that something was left for another meal.
"That'll see us through till morning," said Jack, "but how about
to-morrow and the next day?"
"If we don't see anything to kill, we must wait till we git to the
ranch."
Fred groaned.
"You'll have to tie me in the saddle, for I shan't be able to sit up."
The smile on the face of the guide raised the hope that he was not in
earnest in making this dreadful announcement, but neither Jack nor Fred
were quite easy in mind.
The halt was less than an hour, when the three were in the saddle again.
Hazletine, instead of pressing directly toward the ranch that was their
destination, bore to the left, thus approaching the Wind River range.
"There's a little settlement off to the right," he said, "of the name of
Sweetwater; we could reach it by night, but it takes us a good many
miles out of our path, and there's nothing to be gained by losing the
time."
"Are you following a straight course to the ranch?"
"Pretty near; but I'm edging to the left, toward the foot-hills, 'cause
there's better camping-ground over there."
This was satisfactory, and the youths were not the ones to question a
decision of so experienced a guide and mountaineer. Besides, they had
hope that one reason for the slight change of course was that it
increased the chance of obtaining game. For the present, the question of
food supply was the most absorbing one that demanded attention. Other
matters could wait, but a sturdy, growing lad finds his appetite
something whose cravings can be soothed only by the one method that
nature intended.