The days began to just glide away, and every one saw Frank and Andy
finding new sources of keen enjoyment.
They seldom lost a day for a while but that they went up for a short
time, at least, in the aeroplane that was the marvel and admiration
of the whole ranch. Those who worked on other cattle ranges were no
longer startled when they saw a strange object not unlike a
monstrous bird come spinning overhead, and disappearing in the
distance. Though they never failed to stop their work, no matter
what that might be, and gape upwards, as long as the aeroplane
remained in sight, still, they no longer fired at it, as happened at
first.
The boys had been warned by Uncle Jethro in the beginning that in
making their flights miles away from home they would be wise to keep
a pretty considerable distance aloft. There was never any telling
what cowboys would do; and they were so apt to empty their guns at
what they fancied must be some queer bird belonging to the supposed
to be extinct class. At any rate, the warning was heeded, and on
numerous occasions Frank and Andy believed that they profited from
it. Indeed, it seemed to be the usual thing, whenever they passed
over a cowboy in some strange section of the country, for him to
whip out his gun and empty it; after which he would sometimes dodge,
and try to conceal himself under a tree, or a clump of sage brush,
or it might be a sentinel cactus ten feet high, growing on the
border of the desert.
But by degrees the news was circulating around that this was one of
the new fangled aeroplanes, and the shooting began to grow less
frequent, though the young aviators did not take more chances than
they could help.
Frequently, now, there would be company at the ranch and bunk house.
In fact, these days Double X Ranch was fast becoming the Mecca for
the entire neighborhood. Whenever a party of punchers got a holiday,
instead of going off to town to indulge in a booze, they would start
over to see the “wonder of the air,” and hope that the young pilots
of the upper currents would perform for them.
This got to be such a nuisance that finally Frank had to announce
that they were only going up on certain days, when the exhibition
would be free. And at such times there was sure to be quite a crowd
present, all wild to see how this queer steed that flew through the
air at the rate of from forty to eighty miles an hour, or even a
full hundred on occasion, was managed.
Meanwhile the two boys had been singularly fortunate, in that they
did not meet with a single serious accident. Outside of the intense
heat they had little of a disagreeable nature to contend with in
this Arizona climate, where winds did not often visit the lowlands
in great force, and a dead calm usually prevailed. And as soon as
they were aloft, they found the atmosphere decidedly cool, even
cold, since they were quickly free from the earth’s radiation.
Of course, they had scoured the immediate country, and even ventured
a short way out over the desert, dropping low enough to observe the
strange formation of the billows of sand that reminded them of the
sea, note the peculiarities that marked the tall cactus plants; and
make up their minds that there could be a great many more pleasant
things happen to them than getting lost on this burning stretch,
with little or no water to quench their raging thirst.
After the first glimpse of that waste stretch, the boys always made
sure to carry a big bottle of water along with them when starting
out. And Uncle Jethro declared that it was a wise precaution, as
they could never tell when such a thing might prove to be a life
preserver, if not for themselves, then possibly in the case of
another who had unfortunately lost himself on the desert, and whose
plight they might discover from aloft.
But while they scoured the level in this fashion, the boys were
cautious about trying to fly over the rugged elevations to the
north, where the mines were being operated, to which the trains of
wagons containing supplies headed so frequently.
They found just as they expected, that the winds were apt to be
contrary in this region, and that it was more or less dangerous to
attempt to fly where at any minute a furious gust would suddenly
strike the aeroplane on the right quarter; which was hardly guarded
against, when a second rush of air would swoop down from still
another angle, threatening to overturn the sprawling flier with its
violence.
One visit in this direction was enough for them, and on this
occasion they saw the mouth of one of the mines, with a curious
group standing as usual gazing upward in open-mouthed wonder.
Those mountains presented a grim aspect that impressed both the boys
exceedingly, and they would never forget the sight. Andy had brought
a new kodak, which his father had purchased in order that they might
carry back something to show the folks at home. It was small in
size, but with an expensive lens; and capable of producing very fine
pictures; so that they hoped to have a display worth looking at by
the time these were all developed and prints made later on.
Nothing that was interesting escaped Andy, and he had developed
quite a liking for his new occupation, being constantly on the
lookout for scenes that he thought would make good prints.
But it must not be supposed that all this time the Bird Boys were so
much occupied with scouring the regions of the upper air for fifty
or a hundred miles in every direction, that they neglected to take
advantage of the opportunities presented to observe what life on a
great cattle ranch was like, for this was not so.
As time passed they limited their flights more and more, having
discovered other sources of amusement that held their interest;
because by this time flying no longer possessed the novelty for them
that it had in the beginning; and once they had exhausted the new
sights of the region, they were not so anxious to go up as they were
to mount ponies, and see something of life with the cow punchers.
By degrees they were learning a great many things that they had
never dreamed would ever fall to their lot. Being young, and quick
to pick up new “stunts,” both of them gave promise of soon making
average riders, at least, though they might not hope to equal some
of the punchers who were more reckless by nature, and handled their
mounts as though a cayuse were a machine, governed by their sole
whim.
Both Frank and Andy had their own ponies, and could dash like mad
over the level, plying both voice and quirt in the endeavor to come
in ahead; for cowboys spend much of their time in this sort of
racing.
They had adopted something of the dress of the others, and even wore
the customary “chaps” made of leather and handsomely decorated, and
to which they soon became accustomed in spite of the first awkward
feeling.
And so, daily they were seeing more and more of life on the range.
They visited the prairie dog village and shot rattlers that were
dozing outside the holes in which they lived at peace with the queer
little animals that amused Andy so, and which he stalked on the sly,
so as to take home some pictures of them.
They learned to throw a rope with a fair degree of skill, although
this takes long practice, if one wishes to become an expert. Neither
of them ever actually threw a cow, though they believed they would
be able to do so in time, if they kept this thing up long enough.
They did like to watch the regular punchers do the trick and get the
rope around the snubbing post like lightning every time. Both Frank
and Andy could hobble a broncho equal to the next one; and on one
occasion had spent a night on the range “wrangling” horses, which
meant that they kept company with the guard whose duty was to watch
the precious saddle band, and prevent them from straying, which
catastrophe would be apt to leave the party without mounts for their
morrow’s work; and this is really the worst thing that could happen
to cowboys, who seldom walk if they can help it.
Later on there was to be the regular fall round-up, and the boys
expected to be able to accompany the outfit, and see the youngsters
branded after the most approved fashion, with Andy capturing
numerous pictures that would show just how the entire operation were
carried out. One evening while the two boys were sitting with Mr.
Witherspoon on the big verandah which was kept screened to prevent
an onslaught from insect pests, the genial rancher surprised Frank
and Andy by casually remarking:
“I rather think, now, that we’ll have a decent day for our little
expedition tomorrow; and that the heat will be somewhat less
pronounced than usual.”
Andy looked at his cousin. Uncle Jethro had already sprung several
little surprises on them and seemed to enjoy it immensely so that
they immediately scented something new.
“What sort of trip is that, Uncle?” asked Andy, seeing that the
rancher was waiting to be questioned.
He pretended to be surprised, and raised his eyebrows as he
remarked:
“Oh! is it possible that I forgot to mention to you that I’ve
arranged to take you on a little shooting trip tomorrow, just to
break the monotony of your existence here, and perhaps give you a
chance to carry home a memento of life down in Arizona, that every
time you scrape your feet upon it, will call up a few of the things
that have happened here.”
“Please go on, and tell us more about it, Uncle; do we get a chance
to snap off a picture of a bunch of antelopes this time; that wolf
scene is going to turn out a jim-dandy, I reckon; and I’m anxious to
try another,” Andy went on to say.
“Well, you boys have sure locoed the whole community with that
wonder of an aeroplane, and perhaps, if the ranchers hope to get any
decent work out of their punchers, we’d better give them a little
rest along that line. But we’ve been troubled of late with losing
some of our best heifers; and the boys declare they’ve found tracks
of a grizzly that comes down out of the hills and gets his supper
every once in so often. So Buckskin is going along to show us where
he thinks the old fellow lives; and perhaps you can get a snapshot
of him before we start in to puncture his tough old hide with our
lead. How about that, boys; think you’d like to see how we rid the
country of a pest that plays havoc with our herds?”
Frank smiled and nodded as if pleased, but Andy as usual broke out
into a series of exclamations that told how delighted he would be at
the chance.
“Then it’s a go,” remarked Mr. Witherspoon, carelessly, as though
such things as bagging a ferocious grizzly bear were, after all of
every day occurrence in the life of a cattle raiser; and to be
looked up, as Andy, for instance might consider an ordinary flight
over the level plain, “I’ll see to it that you both have guns, and
we’ll start shortly after breakfast, so as to do most of our riding
before it gets too hot. Then, if we want, after we’ve bagged our
game we might hang round in the foothills and try to keep cool until
near sunset, when we’ll start back,” and he went on talking of other
things as though this were but a small matter.