THE FIRST FRESH MEAT.
All day long the two travelled steadily forward, stopping only once or
twice to look at the packs, and to smoke. The pack horses followed their
leader pretty well, and gave Jack little trouble, so that he was free to
look about him and enjoy the bright sun, the cool breeze, and the birds
and animals that from time to time showed themselves near them. There
was no trail, but Hugh seemed to be travelling north without any land
marks to guide him. During one of their halts Jack asked Hugh where they
would camp that night.
"Well, we can camp most anywhere, for we'll find plenty of water toward
the end of the afternoon. We'll either come on La Bonté, or on some
little creek running into it. There's good feed anywhere, and wood
enough for us, too. I reckon we'll have to picket all the horses
to-night, and maybe every night for the next week, but after that it
will be enough if we picket three of 'em, and let the other three drag
their ropes. After they once get used to being together they ain't none
of 'em likely to wander off, without the whole bunch goes."
"It would be pretty bad if we were to lose our horses, wouldn't it,
Hugh?"
"It sure would," was the reply; "there's mighty few things that's worse
than being left afoot on the prairie. I often wonder how it was in the
old times, when one of the Companies would send a man off to go on foot
two or three hundred miles, with no grub, and one blanket and a copper
kettle, and maybe twelve balls."
"How do you mean, Hugh; twelve balls?"
"Why, don't you know," said Hugh, "in them days, when a man worked for
one of the Fur Companies they only gave him just so much powder and
lead. Of course, ammunition came high then, and they might send a man
off to make a long journey on foot and not give him any grub, and just
six or eight or ten charges for his gun, expecting him to kill whatever
he ate. Travelling in this country in them days couldn't have been much
fun."
"I should think not. But suppose such a man met Indians, and had to
fight; what would he do then?"
"Well," said Hugh, "them men didn't calculate to fight; they calculated
to keep out of sight; and then the Indians weren't right mean then. If
they found a fellow travelling on the prairie they'd charge up to him
and scare him about half to death, but likely they wouldn't hurt him.
Maybe they'd just talk to him and let him go, or at worst they'd take
his gun and his clothes, everything that he had, and turn him loose."
"But then I should think he'd starve to death."
"Well, I expect maybe a good many men did starve to death that nobody
ever heard of. It's a sure thing that lots of men started out to go from
one place to another, and never got to the other place."
"Did you ever have to do that, Hugh?" said Jack.
"No," said Hugh, "I never did. Fact is, I never worked regular for no
fur company, I was always a free trapper, as they called it, until
beaver went out, and trapping was over; then I hired out to the
Government, and took parties of troops around over the country, fellows
that were making maps; and some seasons I guided emigrant trains, and
hunted for posts. One or two years I traded with Indians, working for
Bent and St. Vrain. I liked that about as well as any work I ever did.
Then presently the railroad came along, and I got work with them; and
by-and-by I settled down to kind o' learn the cow-punching trade, and
here I am to-day."
"My, Hugh! you must have seen an awful lot in all this time. How many
years is it since you first came out?"
"It'll be forty-three years next August since I started from old
Kentucky. I was sixteen years old then, and that same fall I got out to
St. Joe, and I have been travelling the prairie ever since."
"Forty-three years ago!" said Jack, thoughtfully; "then you must be
fifty-nine."
"Yes, I am fifty-nine years old, and I expect I look it, don't I?"
"Yes, you do look pretty old, but I think that's because your hair and
beard are white; your face doesn't look old."
"Well, I'm old enough to have learned a heap, and I expect if I was
fifteen years old to-day, and knowed as much as I know now, and was back
in old Kentucky, I'd stop right there."
The sun was drawing toward the western horizon when, on riding over the
crest of the hill, Jack saw a mile or two before him a long winding line
of dark green, which he knew to be the timber that marked the course of
a stream. Many antelope were feeding on the slope down which they
passed, and these seemed to be quite fearless, and moved out of the way
slowly as the train drew near them. The stream was a small one, but
flowed through a wide, level bottom, and Hugh, directing his course
toward a group of cottonwood trees, drew up under them, dismounted, and
throwing down his bridle rein, said, "Let's camp."
In a very short time the loads were taken from the animals, and piled on
the ground at the foot of one of the trees; the saddles were placed on
the packs, and the blankets upsidedown on the saddles, so that any
moisture on them might dry, and the mantas were thrown on the ground
nearby, and would be used at night to cover the riggings and the goods,
so as to protect them from wet in case of rain. A lariat was tied to the
neck of each horse, and they were allowed to wander at will over the
bottom, except old Baldy, whose rope was tied to a bush.
"It's a pretty good thing," Hugh explained, "to have one horse anchored
where you know you can get at him. Might be such a thing that something
would scare these horses and they'd all take off over the bluffs, but if
we've got one riding horse where we can put our hands on him, we can get
'em back easy enough, while if we had to chase 'em afoot it might be a
long, slow business. Now, son," he went on, "you take this kettle and
get a bucket o' water, and I'll start a fire, and we'll have some
supper."
Jack picked up the bucket and started down to the stream, but before he
had taken a half dozen steps Hugh called him back.
"I guess you've forgot something, ain't you?" he said; and then when
Jack looked puzzled, he went on to say, "Now, son, I've got to say over
again to you something that I said last summer; that's a long time ago,
and I don't much wonder you forgot it. We're going into a strange
country now, and we may meet strange people, maybe enemies, so you'd
better just get into the way of packing your gun around with you
wherever you go, it ain't a very heavy load to carry, and you may want
it bad some time."
Jack had not taken off his cartridge belt, and he stepped over and
picked up his rifle, and then went and got the water. By the time he had
returned, Hugh had kindled a fire and had brought quite a pile of wood,
and Jack helped him to gather more; so that before long they had more
than they could use during the night. It did not take long to cook their
simple supper, which consisted only of bacon, bread and coffee. While
they were doing it, Hugh remarked, "I don't believe it's going to rain
to-night, and I don't think it's worth while to put up a tent, unless
you want it."
"No indeed," said Jack, "I'd rather sleep in the open air, unless we're
likely to have a storm."
"Well, let it go at that.
"Now, there's one thing we've got to do, and that is to keep a lot of
picket pins on hand until these horses get wonted. I put a half dozen
hard wood pins in the gunny sack in the mess box, but we'll be losing
them right along, and I believe I'll go to work on an old lodge pole
that's lying over here in the brush and make some pins for to-night. You
might go out and get around them horses and start them back this way;
they're working too far up the creek. Don't chase 'em or scare 'em; just
go around 'em and drive 'em slowly until you get their heads turned this
way. If you should see a buck antelope on the way, you might kill him,
if you can, and we'll put him on one of the packs and take him along."
"I'd like to do that, Hugh, but there ain't much likelihood of seeing an
antelope down in the bottom, is there?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Hugh; "you might see one; or you might jump a
deer out of some of this brush. Don't kill a doe, though; she won't be
no account to eat; and don't go too far, and mind you keep your eye out
for signs. If you see any people, or sign of where people's been lately,
get back to camp as quick as you can."
The horses had been feeding away from camp, and some of them were
already hidden among the underbrush that grew in the valley. Jack walked
over to the foot of the bluffs, and up the stream half a mile, and then,
having got beyond the horses, he walked quietly toward them, turned them
down the stream toward camp, followed them to the edge of the brush, and
saw that they were now busily feeding in the right direction; then he
turned about and walked up the stream.
He had not gone far when he saw in the sand at the edge of the creek the
tracks of two deer, one set quite large, and the other rather small. He
looked carefully about him in all directions but could see nothing,
though the tracks seemed quite fresh. Keeping on up the stream, walking
very quietly, stopping often to look all about him, he came to the edge
of a little meadow, almost surrounded by bushes, and there, as he paused
before stepping out of the brush, he saw near the other side, two deer.
Luckily for him, the gentle breeze was blowing down the stream, and so
the deer did not smell him. When he first saw them their heads were
down, and what first caught his eye was the rapid side-wise motion of
the white tail of one of the animals. Almost as he stopped, the deer
raised their heads, looked about for a moment, and then began to feed
again. He could see that both of them had small horns, and yet one
seemed quite a large deer. They were not far off, only about sixty
yards, and Jack quietly dropped on his knee, slipped a cartridge into
his gun, and made ready to fire. He hesitated a little, for both deer
stood with their hips almost toward him, and he hoped that in a moment
or two they might change their positions, so as to give him a broadside
shot. Presently that very thing happened; the larger deer turned a
little to the left, and then still more, so that its shoulder and side
presented a fair mark. The next time that it raised its head and stood
quite still, Jack drew a very fine bead on it, behind the shoulder and
low down, and fired.
The deer leaped high into the air, and with two or three graceful
bounds, disappeared into the underbrush, followed by its companion. "I
wonder if I missed it," thought Jack; "it don't seem possible that I
could have done that, for it was standing still, and I don't think I
felt a particle nervous. I believe I'll go over there and try to follow
their tracks a little way, anyhow."
When he had reached the place where the deer had been standing, their
hoof-prints were plain in the soil, and following the direction they had
gone, he saw other deep tracks, where they had made long leaps. He was
so interested in following these tracks, that he almost forgot the
question of whether he had missed or not, but suddenly, to his surprise,
as he was puzzling out the tracks, he saw that the leaves of the brush,
through which he was passing, were smeared with blood. "By jimminy!"
thought Jack, "I did hit him! And now I wonder if I can find him."
Looking carefully both for blood and tracks, he soon saw that the deer
was bleeding freely, and that he need no longer look for tracks, since
the blood on the underbrush and the grass and weeds was a constant guide
to him. He had gone only forty or fifty yards, though to him it seemed
much longer, when suddenly he stepped out of the brush at the foot of
the bluffs, and saw, lying a few yards before him, the deer, dead on the
grass. The other deer was standing nearby, looking back, as if puzzled,
and Jack was strongly tempted to take a shot at it, but he reflected
that one deer was more than they could use, and that it would be
wasteful as well as cruel to kill a second.
As Jack stepped out into the open, the other deer stood for a moment
looking at him, and then trotted off up the slope, stopping once or
twice within easy shot, and looking back, but at last disappeared over
the hilltop. The deer on the ground was quite dead, and the position of
the bullet hole showed that it must have been shot through the heart.
Jack drew his butcher knife from its sheath, bled the deer, and began to
butcher it. He had often seen this done by other people, but this was
the first attempt at it that he had ever made, and he found it not so
easy as it looked. He worked slowly and awkwardly, and once was tempted
to give the job up, and go back and get Hugh to do it. Still, he
persevered, and although now the sun had set, he was still cutting and
pulling, absorbed in his task, when a voice at his elbow said, "Well,
you've got some meat, I see;" and looking up, he saw Hugh standing by
him.
"I heard you shoot," said Hugh, "and when you didn't come back, I
allowed you might have trouble getting your meat into camp, and so I
came along. Now, it's getting late and you'd better let me finish that
job."
"I wish you would, Hugh; it's the first animal I ever butchered, and
though I've seen you do it a good many times, I find I don't know how."
"Well, it does look a little bit as if the rats had been gnawing at it."
He took out his own knife and made a few quick cuts, which finished the
work; then, cutting off the deer's head he laid his rifle on the ground,
lifted the carcass on his back, and then, telling Jack to hand him the
rifle, which he rested across the deer's legs before him, he strode off
toward camp.
When they reached camp, Jack saw that the six horses were picketed
close at hand; that the beds were unrolled and spread out on the ground,
beneath one of the larger trees, and that the fire was burning cheerily.
"Now," said Hugh, as he threw the deer's carcass on the ground, "let's
get the jacket off this fellow, and hang him up in the tree to cool."
The operation of skinning the deer and hanging it up did not take long,
but before this was ended, night had fallen. Hugh lighted his pipe, and
then sat by the fire for a little while, staring at it, and Jack lay at
full length beside him, and as they sat there, told Hugh about how he
had found and killed the deer.
"Well, son," said the old man, "I'm mighty glad we got that meat; it'll
make things a heap more comfortable for us for the next few days. Now,
we want to go to bed pretty quick, and get all the sleep we can. You
know the nights are pretty short this time o' year, and we want to be up
by daylight to-morrow morning and change them horses to fresh grass, and
let 'em feed while we're getting breakfast; and then as soon as we're
through, pack up and get started again. We've got a long way to go, and
the quicker we get to the Piegan camp the better I'll be suited. We're
likely to have plenty of delays on the road, and I want to make the best
time I can."