A DISAPPOINTMENT
No argument could be held with such intelligence as this. Shagbark,
with a queer expression on his bearded countenance, looked at the
grinning Jethro, but did not speak. Possibly he felt that he was
blamable in the matter, for it had been his awful words that caused the
senseless panic of the colored youth, and made him flee from before a
harmless antelope, when the lad had a loaded rifle in his hands and
knew how to use it.
Alden was so amazed that at first he suspected his dusky friend was
jesting, but there could be no doubt of his earnestness. Jethro was
confident that he had saved his life by his own brightness.
“It’s too much for me,” commented Alden with a shake of his head.
When all three were in their saddles, they rode out to where the two
carcasses lay at the foot of the slope. Shagbark compelled Jethro
to dismount and help sling the body of the buck across the back of
the pony and balance in front of the saddle. Since the animal weighed
nearly as much as the African himself, the veteran ordered him to walk
beside his horse and hold the burden in place until the party reached
camp. The female which had been shot was so much lighter that Shagbark
took it on the back of his powerful steed with him. The burden was
weighty, but the distance was not far, and all moved at a moderate walk.
At the moment of starting, the sun was shining from a clear sky. Ten
minutes later the radiance turned a dull leaden hue, and all three were
wrapped in the swirl of a furious snow squall. The millions of big
flakes, eddied and spun around and so filled the air that they could
not see one another, when they were barely ten feet apart. Shagbark
called to the two to fall in line behind him and not stop. They bent
their heads and pushed on, leaving the direction to the ponies.
Presto! the squall ended as quickly as it began. At the close of
fifteen minutes not a flake was in the air. The ground was covered with
a thin white sheet which speedily melted in the warm rays of the sun.
The radius of the curious flurry was so slight that it was speedily
left behind them.
Jethro led his pony alongside of Alden’s mare. The guide, as was
his custom when riding with the emigrant train, kept a brief way in
advance, looking straight ahead and paying no attention to the two
behind him.
“Say, Al, what’s de matter wid Mr. Shagbark?” asked Jethro, lowering
his voice.
“Nothing; why do you ask?”
“What’s he gwine back to de ridge fur? Does he wanter shoot some more
antelopes?”
It seemed to Alden that the hunter had turned from the direct course,
but the youth knew he had good reason for doing so.
“If you will look to the right you will see that he isn’t riding toward
the ridge.”
“Don’t make no difference; we’ll neber git home if we trabel the way
he’s gwine now.”
“If you think best, you might point out his mistake to him.”
“Gorrynation! he’s too touchy for _me_ to put in my oar; you am de one
to set him right.”
“I must first know that he is wrong; wait until then.”
Accordingly Jethro held his peace, though he often muttered to himself.
He was silent, however, when the circle of Conestogas, with the men,
women and children moving outside and among them came in sight.
Shagbark had kept to a bee line from the last starting point to the
emigrant camp.
The forenoon was not half gone, but Shagbark decided that the party
should rest until after the midday meal. As has been explained, there
was no need of haste, and the occasional halts did the oxen and horses
good. They could crop the grass at their leisure, and though capable of
long continued strain, the cessation was none the less grateful to the
patient, plodding animals.
Shagbark dressed and roasted the two carcasses. No chef could have done
the work better. The odor of the broiling meat whetted every appetite
and the meal was one of the most satisfying of which they had partaken
since crossing the Missouri. Enough “fragments” remained to serve quite
well for a lighter feast, and they were carefully laid aside for that
purpose. It was about two o’clock when the yokes were adjusted to the
necks of the oxen, the horsemen swung into their saddles, and the
cavalcade headed for Fort Laramie, on the other side of the mountain
spur which bears the latter half of that name.
From the saddle, Alden Payne scrutinized the country to the north, the
west and the south. He was searching for the company with which his
enemy Ross Brandley was traveling. His one regret was that the antelope
hunt had lessened the probability of meeting that combative young man.
Like many a mistaken youth, Alden was sure he could not be happy until
he had evened up matters between them.
“He nearly knocked me over in the first place,” reflected the youth
for the hundredth time, “and when I protested, he insulted me, put up
his fists, and got in a blow. What roils me,” added Alden to himself,
with a flash of the eye and a compression of the lips, “is that he must
have taken my politeness last night for fear of him. If I had only
known who he was, I should have said something that would have made his
cheeks tingle. It will be strange if we miss each other, for we are
both anxious to meet, and, after all, there can’t be so very many miles
between us.”
Far ahead towered the Laramie range, the peaks, softened by the
intervening miles, gradually taking on a clearer view, as the
separating distance was lessened. To the northward country was
undulating or level, mostly covered with the billowy, succulent lush
grass, which makes the region one of the finest grazing grounds in the
world.
Halting Firebug, so that his gait should not interfere with his sight,
the young man studied the outlook in that direction. He was thus
employed when Shagbark drew rein beside him.
“Wal, younker, what do ye make of it?”
“It seems to me,” replied Alden, lowering the binocular, “that I can
see a faint, bluish shadowy outline of something in the horizon. Is it
a mountain range?”
“That’s what it is,” said Shagbark; “ye’re looking at the Medicine Bow
Mountains, which lay a good many miles south; afore long they’ll fade
out of yer sight; see anything else?”
Alden raised the glasses again and studied the section.
“I see the white tents of an emigrant train well to the southwest and
several miles behind them, other wagons, both slowly pushing westward.”
“Ye’re right; I wonder how many hundred of ’em there is atween St. Joe
and Sacramento?”
“It isn’t possible, Shagbark, that either of those trains is the one to
which Mr. Chadwick belongs?”
The veteran guffawed.
“Ef it war Jeth that asked that tom fool question I shouldn’t be
’sprised, but I didn’t look for anything like it from yerself, younker.
How could the company ye’re speaking off, which war a purty long way to
the northwest swing round into that part of the world, ’specially when
there ain’t any reason for them doing so?”
“It wasn’t a sensible question, Shagbark, but it was caused by my wish
to meet that chap who visited us with his uncle last night.”
The hunter looked curiously at his young friend, but said nothing. The
simple minded fellow was not without a natural share of curiosity, but
he asked no question. What may be called a rude delicacy restrained
him. If Alden chose to tell him more, he would listen, but it rested
with the young man himself.
The latter was on the point of describing that affray on the streets of
St. Joe, but a curious feeling of shame restrained him. He was not sure
how the veteran would view it. He might discourage the resolution of
Alden, though the probabilities were the other way.
“He can’t dissuade me, but I don’t want him to try. If I let him know
I am eager to meet that fellow again, he will do all he can to help,
without my saying anything further.”
The two resumed their riding in advance of the company, and after a few
minutes’ silence the guide, speaking with his briarwood between his
lips said:
“Thar’s one thing that may comfort ye, younker.”
“What’s that?”
“Most of the companies that’s tramping ’cross the plains do as we
done,――that is they don’t hurry, which ain’t never a good thing unless
thar’s no help fur it. Them folks that ye want to see will stop to rest
while we’re pushing on, jest as we done.”
“That being so,” said the pleased Alden; “we stand a fair chance of
coming up with them between here and Salt Lake?”
“Yas; long afore we get that fur.”
“I am glad to hear you say that.”
“And I’m mighty glad that ye are glad,” grimly commented Shagbark, who
proceeded to explain that the Laramie Range would be crossed some fifty
miles to the south of Fort Laramie. A depression there made an easy
passage through the rugged spur, whose western slope would be followed
northward to the military post named. The same direction was to be held
before turning westward again. This was the route of the trains and
Pony Express riders, who followed the line of the least resistance as
may be said.
By that time they would be well into the prodigious mountainous region
which would confront them for a thousand miles or more, for it is the
foothills of the Rockies. The present state of Colorado is traversed
by the main axis or continental divide of the Rocky Mountains which
there finds its greatest northern development. The culminating crest of
the main range is the Wind River Mountains in the west-central part of
the State, which is traversed by numerous other ranges, including the
Big Horn in the north-central section, the Laramie Mountains already
mentioned, the Medicine Bow in the south; north of them the Sweetwater
and Rattlesnake ranges, and in the west the Teton, Shoshone and Gros
Ventres mountains. The extreme northeast is penetrated by the Black
Hills from South Dakota. The loftiest peak is Fremont’s in the Wind
River Mountains, two and a half miles high, with others of almost as
great elevation.
The Wind River Mountains display that remarkable fact which is probably
familiar to our readers. Rain falling in a comparative brief area
divides so that some of the drops flow westward and find their way into
the Columbia and thence to the Pacific. Another part of the rainfall
or melted snow winds its way ultimately to the Colorado and into the
Gulf of California, while a third gropes to the Missouri and finally
into the Gulf of Mexico. The southeastern part of the State, through
which our friends were journeying, is drained by the North Fork of the
Platte and its affluents, including the Laramie and Sweetwater rivers,
the Lodge Pole, Rock, Poison Spring, Medicine Bow, Horse and Rawhide
creeks. It may be added that that grand national playground known as
the Yellowstone Park covers a wide area in the northwestern corner of
the State.
One of the most deceptive things is distance on the plains and among
the mountains. Alden Payne was certain of reaching the base of the
Laramie range before the company went into camp at nightfall, but as
the afternoon drew to a close, the wild region seemed as far off as
ever.
“If all goes well we shall strike ’em by to-morrow night,” commented
Shagbark; “howsumever ye have observed that another company has camped
two miles off on the same creek that we’re going to use.”
“Is there any possibility of its being the one that Mr. Chadwick is
with?” asked Alden.
“Shouldn’t be ’sprised, but thar ain’t no way of telling without making
a call.”
“I think I shall ride over just before dusk and find out.”
“Nobody’ll object to that; will ye go alone?”
Alden hesitated. His first intention was to ask Shagbark to accompany
him, but the uncertainty of his sentiments caused the youth to decide
otherwise. He would take Jethro, for companionship, rather than for any
help he could give. Shagbark made no comment on the decision, and it
is not likely he cared one way or the other.
Sometime later, Alden dropped back to the main body, where he turned
over his pony to the care of Jethro, and entered the wagon in which
Mrs. Fleming and several of the women were riding. He apologized for
intruding, though he was ever welcome. He explained that he wished to
do some writing.
Seating himself with his back against the side of the Conestoga, as it
lumbered easily over the plain, Alden drew out his note book, sharpened
his lead pencil and framed the following:
“Ross Brandley, Sir,――I did not recognize you when you called
last night with Mr. Chadwick. Had I known at the time who you
were (my colored servant told me afterward), you would have
heard some plain words from me, though coming as our guest,
I should have treated you with politeness which probably you
would not have appreciated. Fearing that a similar restraint
may be upon you when I return the call, I hand you this note.
“I ask you to ride after me as I return, until I reach a point
midway between our camps. I shall wait there for you. We shall
then be upon neutral ground and I challenge you to a finish
fight with fists as weapons. This would have been the case in
St. Joe had not your relative, fearing you would suffer harm,
carried you away, though it was plain to me that he did not
have much trouble in getting you beyond my reach.
“ALDEN PAYNE.”
Alden read this belligerent message and smiled. He was pleased with it.
“Those last words will hit him hard. A fellow would rather be called
anything than a coward. I can’t say he showed any sign of wishing to
sneak out, and when I remark that his uncle didn’t have any trouble in
lugging him off, I suppose I exaggerate, but I want to make sure the
scamp doesn’t find an excuse for dodging a square, stand up fight. I
don’t think I can improve the letter.”
He folded the paper and wrote the name of Brandley on the outside,
after which he placed the slip between the pages of his note book which
was shoved into the inner pocket of his coat. Without consulting the
women around him or letting them know what was in the wind, he sprang
out of the wagon to the ground.
A few minutes later the halt for the night was made. Alden told Jethro
he intended to visit the camp in front and wished him to go along.
“I ’spose you’ll wait till after supper?” inquired the servant.
“Of course; I know how much it would hurt you to miss a meal.”
“I’m allers ready to take keer ob you, Al,” remarked the servant in an
aggrieved voice.
What a fatality often attends small things! Jethro had no suspicion
that the company in advance was the one from which the two visitors had
come the night before. Alden did not aim to hide the fact from him,
but simply omitted to mention it. Had Jethro known the meaning of this
evening call, he would have forced his master to hear the momentous
secret which the dusky youth had been carrying for weeks. And had that
secret been revealed, Alden Payne would have made a most important
change in his programme.
Since it was not so to be, the two after the evening meal, cinched
their saddle girths and rode out on the plain. They took a course
almost due west. The camp fires of the other party twinkled like stars
in the horizon, and the space was covered in less than half an hour,
the horsemen riding at an easy gallop.
As he drew near, Alden was struck by the resemblance of the camp to his
own. The eight wagons were ranged in a similar circle and the emigrants
seemed to number nearly the same. They had mules, however, in addition
to oxen and horses. All were cropping the grass, while a small stream
of icy water flowed within their convenient reach.
The guards had not yet been placed, though such a precaution would not
be long delayed, for it was unsupposable that any company of emigrants
should have penetrated thus far on their journey to the Pacific without
learning the lesson which Shagbark had impressed upon his charges from
the day they crossed the Missouri.
Little or no notice was taken of the two horsemen until they rode up to
the nearest wagon. The animals were guided to one side where the big
camp fire threw out its rays, which were reflected from the ponies and
their riders.
“I’ll stay on Jilk and wait fur you to come back,” said Jethro; “I
doan’ think any ob dem folks keers ’bout seeing me.”
Alden did not object, and had hardly swung out of the saddle to the
ground, when two men came forward to greet him. One was unusually
tall, the other of medium height and both wore heavy beards. The youth
scanned them closely, in the partial obscurity, but neither was Mr.
Chadwick. They cordially greeted the visitor and invited him to go
forward and join in their meal. Most of the group were gathered around
the “festal board,” which happened just then to be their blankets
spread on the green grass.
“I thank you,” replied Alden, “but my servant and myself partook just
before leaving our own camp. This is really a business rather than a
social call.”
“In what way can we serve you?”
“I have a letter which I shall be glad if you will hand to a member of
your party.”
Alden drew out his note book and took the folded paper from between the
pages.
“Perhaps it will be better if I give it to Mr. Chadwick and ask him to
hand it to his nephew Ross Brandley. I owe a call to Mr. Chadwick.”
The two men glanced in surprise at Alden. He of the shorter statue was
about to reach out his hand to take the missive but refrained.
“I do not recognize the names you mention.”
“The elder is Garret Chadwick and his nephew, who I judge is nearly my
own age, is Ross Brandley. The note is for the younger.”
“Sorry, but I never heard of them before.”
“Then,” said the disappointed Alden, “they cannot be members of your
party.”
“They are not; we have never met either.”
“I beg your pardon for my mistake; you will excuse me for not
remaining. I thank you for your courtesy, and you and your friends
have my best wishes for a pleasant journey to the other side of the
continent.”
The trio exchanged military salutations, after the men had repeated
their invitation for the visitor to go forward and meet other members
of the company. Alden put his foot in the stirrup and sprang into the
saddle.
“Too bad,” he muttered, “but I shall meet that fellow before many days.”
He was right in his surmise, but little did he dream of the
circumstances which were to attend that memorable meeting.