THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE ELK
There are times when one acts from instinct alone. Frank had no time to
think, when he felt himself going down with some loose earth and stones
into the wide canyon. He simply threw his rifle back of him, so that he
might save it from falling, and at the same time have the free use of
both hands.
He fell a dozen feet or so, along with the loose soil and rocks he had
caused to give way under his weight. Then, by some happy accident, his
outstretched hands closed upon a bush that was growing from the rough
face of the wall, and to this he clung with desperation.
It threatened to come loose with each movement he made, and yet he was
bound to find some niche for his dangling feet, so as to relieve the
bush from a part of his weight.
He had heard the loud outcries of his friends, and knew they must be
hastening to his relief.
If he could only hold on for five minutes all might be well.
Below lay quite an abyss, and a fall was apt to bruise him very much,
even if he were fortunate enough not to have any bones broken. It was,
therefore, with considerable gratitude that he discovered he could dig
his toes into crevices in the rock, and thus hang on.
Jerry afterward declared that Frank presented all the appearance of a
fly plastered against a wall; but it might have been noticed that he was
the first one to reach the edge of the platform and breathe encouraging
words to his endangered chum.
Mr. Mabie knew what would be needed before he made the first movement.
"Bring your rope, Reddy!" he shouted, and the agile cowboy had obeyed.
This was quickly lowered until the noose dangled below Frank.
"Use one foot to draw it in, my boy. We want you to get both legs inside
the loop, and then gradually let us draw it up under your arms. It's all
right. We're going to have you out of that, so don't worry!" called the
ranchman.
"You can depend on it, Frank isn't frightened. If that bush threatens to
go, get a quick grip of the rope! Do you understand, Frank?" called
Jerry.
A quick nod of the head told that the one below realized he was as good
as drawn up already. One foot was cautiously withdrawn from its support
and the loop caught; then the second also passed inside the circle;
after which a tightening of the lariat brought it up to where Mr. Mabie
wanted to have it.
"Now here you come, my boy!" he called cheerily.
Frank let go his frenzied clutch, and swung into space; but willing
hands quickly drew him up until he stood with his chums.
"Did I get him?" was the first question he asked, at which the stockman
laughed heartily and patted him on the back.
"Spoken like a true sportsman, I declare! How about it, Reddy?" he said.
"There's his game, sir, lying just at the foot of that old slide. It was
as neat a shot as I ever saw," declared the young cowboy, pointing.
"Which is the truth, old fellow!" exclaimed Jerry, seizing Frank's hand
and wringing it warmly, without a touch of jealousy, even though his own
laurels as the admitted best shot of the club seemed in jeopardy.
"But what a pity we can't get it! I hate to think of killing game and
leaving it for the wolves," said Frank.
"Oh, that's soon remedied. Reddy will promise to land that sheep here
for you in double-quick order, eh?"
Reddy was already fastening one end of his lariat to a projecting stone
that resembled a saddle-horn. This done, he tried it, to make sure that
it would hold. Then he tossed the balance of the rope, loop and all,
over the edge.
"Does it reach down?" asked Mr. Mabie.
"Just gets there, and no more," replied Will, craning his neck to see.
Reddy flung himself over in what struck Will as a most reckless fashion;
but he discovered in time that these free riders of the ranches do
everything in that nervous manner. It is a country where men quickly
learn that often their lives depend on their ability to act promptly and
like a flash.
"He's down already," announced Will, half a minute later.
And it was not ten minutes before they saw the cowboy coming back again.
He had Frank's first mountain sheep upon his back, and though the way
was rough he jumped from stone to stone with surprising agility for one
who spent so much time in the saddle.
In due time the journey was resumed.
"How much further do we go?" asked Will, as he followed behind the
guide, Reddy.
"Here's the top of the ridge. Now you can see the other valley, and the
noise you hear is made by a cataract in the river. We camp just below
that. Fishing is good there, and I guess you'll like it," was the reply.
They soon headed down, and the end of their day's work seemed close at
hand. It can be easily assumed that none of the boys were sorry. Quite
unused to riding, they began to feel the effects already.
"I'm glad it's a camp after this. I've sure got a cramp in my legs that
it'll take a long time to get out," grunted Bluff.
"Rome wasn't built in a day, son. Each time you ride you'll notice that
cramp less and less, until after a month you will be entirely free from
it. But here we are at our journey's end, and I, for one, don't feel
sorry, because for ten minutes I've been scenting that coffee. The boys
have seen us coming, and started to have dinner cooked."
It proved to be just as Mr. Mabie said. A most appetizing camp dinner
was ready for them when they arrived. Perhaps Jerry and Frank may have
thought it did not fully come up to some similar feasts they had helped
prepare in the woods, but of course they never hinted at such a thing;
for those cowboys, while the most accommodating of fellows, were also
thin-skinned in some respects.
Will was fairly delighted at the romantic looks of the camp, back of
which the waterfall came tumbling down. He could hardly wait to eat his
dinner before he set to work to secure a _fac-simile_ of the picture,
with the party gathered around the fire, and the three tents making a
pleasing contrast to the dark green of the piñon trees.
Most of the party were contented to remain quiet during the balance of
the day, but Bluff developed an unusually ambitious spirit for action.
Truth to tell, he secretly considered that his chums were having more
than their share of good luck in making a record at bagging game, and
thought it time he started in.
Mr. Mabie had made him accept the use of a spare hunting-knife. It was a
short, though serviceable weapon, and had doubtless done splendid
execution in days gone by. Bluff used to take it out when he thought no
one was looking, run his finger over the keen edge, gaze sadly at the
dim blade, and shake his head. He could not get the memory of that other
grand specimen of the cutler's skill out of his mind, and his soul was
filled with bitterness because of its strange absence.
"Look out for wolves!" called Reddy, but Bluff only waved his hand in
derision as he walked away down the valley.
Of course, he knew that the stockmen were more or less troubled with
these hungry marauders in the winter time, and often had to organize
grand hunts in order to keep their number down; but it hardly seemed
reasonable to expect trouble from such a source in the summer season.
Elk and moose had not as yet come under the protection of the game laws,
so that they were at liberty to shoot what they pleased. As a rule,
however, Mr. Mabie did not believe in hunting such animals save in the
fall of the year.
Bluff had asked numerous questions before leaving camp, so that he knew
something about the lay of the land in the vicinity. He had started out
with all due regard to the way the wind was blowing, so as not to alarm
any quarry that might be sniffing up the breeze.
Climbing among the rocks, and passing through dense patches of timber,
he kept on the alert for signs of game. Now, Bluff did not make any
pretence at being a skilful sportsman. In fact, until a year or so back
he had been the bungler of the party when it came to a knowledge of
woodcraft; but since then he had studied up on various subjects, and was
now anxious to air his knowledge.
When he caught sight of a large animal with towering antlers, feeding in
a little glade, he knew it must, of necessity, be an elk, for a moose
was built along different lines entirely.
It might have amused Jerry to see the way in which Bluff crawled closer
and closer to the expected quarry. No doubt he did make some ridiculous
efforts, which were not at all according to the usual rules of the game.
However, as Bluff would say, the proof of the pudding lies in the eating
of it, and he certainly did manage to creep up quite close to the
feeding elk.
Thinking he was now near enough, and that the animal was beginning to
act uneasily, Bluff stretched himself out, balanced his gun on a stone,
took a long aim, and then pulled the trigger.
The elk certainly dropped, at which the young hunter gave a bellow of
delight. That was where he made a foolish blunder, for believing that
his bullet had done for the game, Bluff started recklessly forward, bent
on bleeding the same, and only regretting the fact that he could not
initiate his precious new blade.
To his astonishment, the wounded elk scrambled to its feet, and instead
of bounding away it shook its antlers in an angry fashion and started
straight toward the young hunter!