FOLLOWING THE AERIAL TRAIL
Shouting and laughing, the entire party raced down the hill and up the
other side to view the result of Lieutenant Wingate's shot. They found
the buck lying dead where it had fallen, with a bullet hole through its
head.
"Can my Uncle Hip shoot? Well, I reckon he can," declared Stacy
pompously. "Cleverness runs in our family," boasted Stacy.
"That quality must have exhausted itself before you joined the family,"
retorted Emma.
Stacy admitted that he had lost some of it after becoming a member of
the Overland Riders, which, he said, was undoubtedly due to association
with inferior intellects, to which Emma had no reply to make, other than
characteristically elevating her nose and turning her back on the fat
boy.
"Come, come," urged Hippy. "Stacy, you and Tom will have to help me
dress this beast if you want meat. It is certain that we shall not
starve today."
The job of dressing the buck was accomplished clumsily, the Overland
girls being interested spectators and offering frequent suggestions on
the subject, of which they knew nothing.
That night the Riders enjoyed a great spread. Following it, such of the
meat as they wished to carry with them they spitted on sharp sticks in
the smoke of the camp-fire. This was the beginning of the curing process
required to put the meat in condition to keep, so that they might carry
it along, for the party did not dare trust to the chance of finding
other game farther on, fearing that they again might be caught foodless.
One experience of the kind was enough.
Lieutenant Wingate and his companions had learned a lesson in
observation from the guide, and Hippy began to understand that a hunter,
when after game, must put out of his mind every object in the landscape
except the particular thing for which he is looking. He tried out that
idea that same day by looking for various objects, one at a time, and
was amazed at the result. Under this method, objects that he had not
before observed at all now stood out with great prominence. Hippy then
recalled what an old hunter, then sniping Germans, had told him in
France: "Let your eyes sweep quickly over the landscape but pay no
attention to the more prominent objects, and you will be amazed at the
quickness with which you will discover that for which you are looking."
The method worked out just as Hippy's informant had said it would, and
Hippy determined never again to be caught napping. However, his respect
for the guide had increased considerably, and especially for the
keenness of Woo Smith's eyes.
With all the venison they could carry packed in their kits, the party
set out early on the following morning and soon found themselves on the
brink of another box-canyon, which they reached without mishap, then
made their way up the side of another mountain, and on over a series of
rugged elevations that would tax the sure-footedness of a mountain goat.
"This up and down progress reminds me of a wild ride that I once had on
a scenic railway at Coney Island," declared Elfreda Briggs as they
finally halted for a rest. Elfreda's face was red from exertion and
excitement, and her hair had become the plaything of the mountain
breezes.
"Don't wolly till to-mollow," chuckled Stacy.
"Stacy, you're right," nodded Tom Gray. "But it is now time we were
moving. See that ridge to the right of us?"
"Surely we do not have to cross that, do we?" begged Emma.
"Yes. We shall have to ride its entire length in order to reach the high
mountain peak that you see still farther on. Either we must start now or
wait until tomorrow," averred Tom.
"It never will do to be caught on the top of that ridge in the
darkness," agreed Hippy.
The ridge referred to lay slightly higher than their present position,
but there was plainly a safe trail leading to it. Orders to move were
given by Hippy. The Overland Riders were quickly in their saddles, and
the party slowly mounted the ridge, but halted as they came to the top
of it. For once the girls experienced a case of "nerves."
"We never shall be able to ride over this awful trail," cried Elfreda
Briggs.
"Oh, let's go back," begged Emma.
"Impossible!" answered Hippy. "This is the trail that we shall have to
follow to reach the high peak of the Sierras."
"If the horses behave and no one loses her head we ought to be able to
cross safely," averred Grace.
"My head is swimming already," moaned Nora.
"Why don't you turn it over and let it float for a few minutes?"
suggested Chunky.
After directing Woo to proceed on ahead, the journey was resumed, and
the ponies stepped out over the knife-edge top of the ridge. This ridge,
not more than a dozen feet wide along the top, formed a natural bridge
connecting two mountain ranges. Here and there the sides of the ridge
fell away sheer for hundreds of feet, and at others, smooth granite
rocks sloped away to the canyon below.
Ahead of the Riders, Woo Smith was picking his way unconcernedly,
singing blithely. The girls of the party sought to look equally
unconcerned, but not with very much success, for each one was feeling
the effect of the great height and their peril on the narrow path. Emma
Dean finally slipped from her saddle, and passing the bridle-rein over
one arm, proceeded to pick her way on foot.
"Cold feet, eh?" scoffed Stacy.
"No. I'm scared, that's all," replied Emma. "I don't care who knows it,
either."
Grace glanced at the faces of her companions, and then, at the rapidly
narrowing trail.
"While I believe that we shall be in less peril on our ponies than on
foot, I suggest that we all walk," she said, dismounting. "With your
feet on the ground you will be less nervous."
Grace's companions lost no time in following her example, but they
dismounted cautiously. It was a relief to feel the solid ground under
their feet. A laugh further relieved the strain when Hippy Wingate
finally dismounted. The girls teased him unmercifully, though all knew
that a man who had fought the Germans in the clouds was not likely to be
disturbed by great heights. A few moments later Stacy dismounted, but
Tom remained on his pony and appeared to be enjoying the novel
experience of riding along this unusual aerial trail.
Miss Kitty, the lazy pack-horse, as usual, brought up the rear of the
line and was dragging farther and farther behind. Her actions were
observed with keen interest by the Overlanders, there being no certainty
as to what the white pack mare might or might not do. She proved the
wisdom of their lack of confidence in her when, weaving from side to
side to avoid stepping over projecting rocks or boulders, she stepped
off the trail with one hind foot.
"Quick, Hippy!" cried Nora excitedly. "She will fall over!"
Lieutenant Wingate sprang forward and gave the mare a quick slap on her
flank. The mare jumped, then down she fell on her side with hindquarters
hanging partly over the brink, and there she lay groaning dismally, the
picture of misery and fear. The faces of the Overland girls paled, for
each knew that the slightest struggle on the part of the white mare
would send her sliding to the bottom of the canyon fully a thousand feet
below.