BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS
The next day Hugh and Jack set out to return to the ranch. Before
leaving, all hands went out and took a look at the wolf puppies. They
seemed to be all right, but had evidently made some attempts to gnaw
their way out, but their young teeth could not make much impression
in the tough spruce sticks which formed their cage.
"After they get a little bigger," said Hugh to Charley, "unless they
should grow tame, you will either have to drive more poles into the
ground or else you'll have to kill the pups. They're so big now that
I think it's pretty doubtful whether they ever get tame at all, and
of course if they don't get tame, the only thing to do is to kill
them. I've seen a heap of wolf and coyote puppies caught, but they've
got to be mighty young ever to lose their wildness, and to get so
that you can do anything with them. We'll have to leave our pup here
until it gets a little older and we see whether they are likely to
get tame or not."
They bade good-bye to the Powell family, with cordial thanks for all
their kindness, and invitations for them to come over to the ranch
and visit them for a few days.
Jack said to Charley, "After awhile, when the elks' horns get big,
and they get fat, come over with the waggon and we'll go out and kill
two or three, and you can take back the meat with you. Hugh says we
only have to go two or three miles from the house upon the mountain,
to get all the elk we want."
On their way back they rode down the bluffs, not far from where
Jack had killed the lion, and here, as they were going along, Jack
suddenly saw, not far in front of him, a queer, dark grey object,
shaped somewhat like a big tortoise, running along on the prairie in
front of him. In a moment he recognised that it was a sage grouse,
with wings partly extended and body held low, and for a moment he did
not know what to make of the bird's action.
"Hold on, son," said Hugh, "there's where she started from;" and
he pointed to a low sage-bush a little to one side. "Get off your
horse and go and look under that, and see what there is there." Jack
did so, and saw a hollow in the ground, scantily lined with bits
of grass, in which were thirteen greyish eggs, not so large as an
ordinary hen's egg.
"Oh, Hugh!" he called back, "There are thirteen eggs; can't we
take them along?" Hugh rode up to the spot, leading Jack's horse,
and looked at the nest. "Well, now," he said, "seems to me I would
not bother with that nest; we've got a long way to go yet, and the
chances are we'd smash the eggs before we got home, and if we didn't
do that, they'd be pretty sure to get cold, and wouldn't hatch. Let's
leave that old hen alone, and some day we'll hunt up a nest right
close to home, and get a setting of eggs there. 'Tain't no use to
take these eggs without they're going to do us some good."
"Well, all right," said Jack, rather reluctantly, as he turned away.
"We've got a long way to go, but do you suppose we'll be able to find
another nest near the ranch?"
"I expect we will," was the answer; "though of course it isn't any
sure thing; it's getting pretty late to find eggs now; we won't have
any trouble finding young ones, though."
Jack mounted, and from the saddle looked about to try to see the old
hen, but she had disappeared; so they went on.
The supper horn sounded that night just as they were riding up the
valley, toward the house, and before they had unsaddled all hands
were seated at the table. Before the meal was ended, Jack had to tell
the story of his killing the lion, and of the death of the wolf; and
after supper he brought in his roll of hides, and spread out both
the lion and the wolf skin on the floor, so that all might see them.
The men were loud in their congratulations, and Joe declared that he
would have given a horse to have been in Jack's place. "You're in the
biggest kind of luck, Jack," he said. "I've been riding the range
right around here now for five years and I never caught a glimpse
of a lion yet. I've helped to rope three bears, but of course that's
no trick at all if you know your horse. I roped a cow elk once, and
what's more, brought her into the ranch. I had better luck that time
than old Vicente, down below here. He roped a bull elk, just on the
edge of the rocky ground. His horse was small and the elk drug him
a little way, and he got scared and turned his rope loose, and the
elk went off up the mountain, dragging a twelve-dollar raw-hide rope
behind him. But I'd have liked almighty well to have been along with
you fellows, and had a chance to have a shot at that lion. You were
sure in great luck."
"Well," said Jack, "I don't believe I'd have had a chance myself if
it hadn't been for Pawnee; he ran just as hard as he could, and got
away ahead of the other horses, and so I had the luck to get the
shot."
"Well," said Joe, "you made the most of your chance, anyhow. Maybe it
isn't every fellow that would have shot as straight as you did, if
he'd had the chance to shoot at all."
Mr. Sturgis, too, had words of congratulation for Jack; but later
in the evening he cautioned him not to let his excitement carry him
into dangerous places. "You see, Jack," he said, "just as Hugh feels
responsible to me for your safety, so I feel responsible to your
father and mother. You might live out here for two or three years
without ever getting close to a lion, but you managed to do it after
you'd been here only a couple of months. The life here is as safe
as it is anywhere, but a man must use the same precautions against
danger that he would in any other part of the world. He must use
common sense, and not expose himself to the risk of being clawed by a
lion, or run over by a team, or hurt by a fighting cow. You've been
lucky enough so far, and have carried yourself well, but I want you
to use as much discretion as you can."
"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack, "I'll try to remember what you
and Hugh tell me. I confess that when I was galloping after the lion,
or again after the wolf, I didn't think of a single thing except
trying to get as close to the animal as I could; but when the lion
jumped out of the tree at me, I was a little frightened. I didn't
have time to be much frightened, because Pawnee jumped so quickly and
took me out of the beast's way."
"What do you think, Uncle Will, about the wolf puppy that we left at
Mr. Powell's," Jack went on. "Will it ever get tame? I should like
to own a wolf that was as tame as a dog, and to take it back to New
York with me. Wouldn't it make people stare! I don't believe half the
people would believe it was a wolf."
"You'd better ask that question of Hugh," said his uncle; "he knows
more about those things than I. I have never seen a tame wolf,
myself, though I have heard of many of them; but I fancy that pups
that are caught as old as he seemed to be do not ever really get
tame. I do not believe that this wolf puppy will ever be of any
particular use to you. But if you are going to start the menagerie
we talked of before we came out here, it is time you began. The
antelope kids can be got now, and if I were you I would try to get
two or three. Then there are some ducks' nests down by the lake that
you might rob, and bring the eggs up to be hatched out at the house.
There are two old hens out here now, I believe, that want to set, and
you might try each of them with a lot of wild ducks' eggs. Rube found
the nests day before yesterday, and I think would like to go down
there and help you get them. In the course of two or three days the
horse roundup will be here, and for a day or two we'll all be busy
cutting out horses and branding colts. After that, Antonio is going
to ride some wild horses, and I suppose you want to be here for that;
so you had better get your ducks' eggs now, or the first thing you
know they'll be swimming in the lake and you'll never get your hands
on them."
"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack. "If Rube will go with me, we'll
start right after breakfast to-morrow morning."
"Well," said his uncle, "you ask him to-morrow morning at breakfast.
He'll go with you if he can."
After breakfast next morning, Rube and Jack went down to the lake,
each carrying a small wooden box, partly filled with hay. The ducks'
nests were easily found. One of them belonged to quite a small bird,
which flew off close to the ground as the riders approached. They
found that this nest contained nine roundish eggs, about the colour
of old ivory, that is yellowish white. The other nest, which was not
far off, belonged to a larger bird, and in this there were eleven
somewhat larger eggs. All the eggs from the first nest were placed
in one box, and those from the second in another, and they returned
to the house, riding very slowly and carefully, carrying the boxes
in their hands, so that they should not be jarred or shaken. In the
hen-house the two old hens were provided with good nests of clean
hay, each in a barrel, which was covered at night so as to prevent
anything from disturbing them, and one setting of eggs was put under
each hen. Rube declared that he didn't feel quite safe about those
hens, they were so big and the eggs were so small that he was afraid
they would break them. "And if they don't break them," he said,
"they're liable to step on the young ones when they hatch out, and
kill half of them. Still, I suppose we've got to take that risk."
The morning had only half gone when the eggs were disposed of, and
Jack looked about to see what else he could do. There was no one
about the house except Mrs. Carter, who was sewing, and Rube, who had
gone down to the stable and was working there. Jack threw himself on
the grass just outside the house door, and lay there in the warm sun.
For a while he did nothing except to think over the last few days,
and remember what fun he had had. He determined that before night he
would write a long letter to his father, telling him that he would
rather not go back and go to school and college, for he wanted to be
a ranchman.
After a time he noticed some swallows circling about over the grass
near him. They were very small and did not look like the swallows
that he had seen back east, most of which have breasts about the
colour of iron rust. These little fellows were wonderfully quick,
so much so that sometimes it was hard for the eye to follow them.
They made wide circles out over the grass, or again flew so close
to the house that it seemed as if they must dash themselves against
the logs. Suddenly, one of them flew squarely toward the house, but
when he had almost reached it, turned upward and alighted on one of
the roof poles, where he sat, twittering faintly, and occasionally
arranging his feathers. Sometimes the little bird walked a few
inches, turning himself this way and that, and then Jack could see
that his back was almost the colour of a peacock's tail, shining
green in some places, and shining purple in others. He felt sure that
he could describe this bird well enough so that his uncle could tell
him what it was. All at once, to his surprise, the swallow walked
into a hole between two of the roof poles, and was not seen again,
but a moment afterward another little bird, just like the first,
except that its back was dull brown, walked out of the hole and flew
away over the valley.
Jack did not know very much about birds, but he decided that this
last one was the female, and that these two little swallows had a
nest somewhere in the roof. He determined too that he would watch
them and see what they did every day, for they were so pretty and so
quick and graceful that it was fun to look at them. About noon he saw
his uncle and Hugh ride up to the barn and unsaddle, and before long
he was asking about the swallows.
"Why yes," said his uncle, "those birds build there every year. They
are a pair of violet green swallows; there are lots of them here in
the mountains, and they build in little holes in the dead trees, or
in the rocks; but these two have a nest somewhere up in the roof,
every summer. I think it was last year that the young ones, when they
were about full-grown, flew out of the nest and fell into the muslin
that forms the ceiling of the sitting-room. They scrambled around
there for nearly a whole day, and made so much noise that finally we
cut a hole in the muslin and got them out. They were about as big as
the old ones, and full feathered, and the next morning we took them
out and put them on the roof, and the old ones at once fed them and
began to teach them to fly. If you want to find out what birds there
are about here, you had better take my bird book down from the shelf
and study it a little each day. I can help you, for I know the names
of most of the common birds." Saying this, his uncle went into the
house.
"How are the calves, Hugh?" said Jack. "Have the coyotes been
bothering them at all?"
"Not a bit," said Hugh; "they are all right, and big and strong. I
expect in the course of a month now your uncle will be bringing them
over to the corrals to brand, but we won't do that until after we've
got through with the horses. The roundup ought to be along here most
any time now, and when it gets here you'll see quite a lot of fun
when we get to working them."