HUNTING ON THE MOUNTAIN
For several days the people at the ranch kept looking for the arrival
of the horse roundup, but it did not come. One morning at breakfast
Mr. Sturgis said to Hugh, "Well, Hugh, instead of sitting about here
any longer, you might go up to-day on to the mountain and look around
to find some good strong corral poles and posts. Some of the poles in
the big corral are getting pretty weak, and as soon as the roundup
has passed, we may as well make that corral over. Try to find poles
that are easy got out, and of course as near home as you can; and if
you get a chance, you might kill a heifer or a young bull, if you
should see one."
"All right," said Hugh. "I'll be glad to take a little ride; I'm
getting tired of sitting round waiting for them horses. Son," he
continued, speaking to Jack, "do you want to go along?"
"Yes, indeed, Hugh, I'd like to first-class," was the reply.
After breakfast they started, and began to climb the mountain behind
the house, following a steep trail which led up the side of a deep,
narrow valley, down which a large brook flowed. Jack had never
ridden in this direction before, but he had often wondered what there
was on top of the mountain, and he was glad to have a chance to go
there. Pawnee followed close after old Baldy up the narrow trail, and
not much was said by the riders, but Jack's eyes were busy looking
at the rough mountain side and at the precipices of red rock that
overhung the way. After some time they crossed a narrow side valley,
where there was a little grass and underbrush and a few tall pines.
As they were riding through this, Jack suddenly saw quite a large
bird running along before them. It seemed to be hurt; its wings were
trailing on the ground, it ran half crouched down, and every now and
then it would fall over on its side, and then recover itself and
struggle along a little further.
"Oh, Hugh!" he called out, "see that bird! Wait a minute, I want to
catch it."
Hugh stopped his horse, and Jack, jumping down, ran after the bird
and almost put his hand on it. It just managed to struggle out of
his fingers and ran along before him, tottering as if it were very
feeble. He followed it for twenty or thirty yards further, not quite
catching it, when suddenly, with a great whirr of wings, it rose
from the ground and flew off up the mountain side. Jack stopped and
watched it with open mouth, and then turned to go back to his horse.
When he reached it Hugh said to him with a smile:
"Where's your bird?"
"That's the most mysterious thing I ever saw," said Jack. "I almost
had that bird three or four times, and suddenly it flew off as if
nothing was the matter with it."
"Well," said Hugh, "didn't you ever see that before? That's an old
blue grouse, and her young ones are scattered around on the ground
right where we're standing. She just pretended she was hurt to lead
you away from them, and as soon as we are gone she will come back
to them. You'd better look out where you put your foot down, or you
might step on one. They're here right close, and yet we might look
for half a day and not be able to find one of them."
"Well," said Jack, "that's curious. I think I have heard my uncle
tell about birds doing that sort of thing, but I never saw it until
to-day. That was a pretty big bird, but not as big as a sage hen, is
it?"
"No," said Hugh, "they're quite a little bit smaller than a sage hen,
and still they're lots bigger than a pheasant, and they're awful good
eating, too."
Jack mounted and they rode on up the trail.
After quite a long scramble up the steep mountain trail they came to
a rolling, grassy plateau, interrupted here and there by clumps of
pines, and occasionally by great knobs of red granite rock. They rode
for several miles over this upland without seeing anything that was
interesting, until, as they were approaching one of these tall knobs
of rock, they heard a loud piercing whistle come from it.
Hugh stopped his horse, and when Jack rode up beside him, said:
"Now, let's watch them rocks for a little while, and see whether we
can see that fellow."
"What fellow do you mean, Hugh," said Jack; "the thing that made that
noise?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's what some folks call a mountain marmot, but
I call it a woodchuck, because it looks just like the woodchucks I
used to see when I was a boy down in Kentucky, only it's considerable
bigger, and it's got a kind of a yellow belly. It can make more noise
for its size than most any beast I know of."
They sat there for a few moments and watched the rock about which the
hot air was dancing, when suddenly Hugh said, "I believe I see him;
I think he just stuck his head out of that crack in the rock. Do you
see there, near the top? Follow that crack along with your eye and
you'll notice a little grey knob that was not there a minute ago."
"Oh, I see it," said Jack.
"Well," said Hugh, "now watch that and see if it don't move."
After a few seconds the knob moved, and, in a minute an animal came
out of the crevice in the rock and sat up.
"That would be a good shot," said Hugh, "if we had not come up here
to try to hunt; but your uncle wants us to try to kill him some meat,
if we can; so we won't shoot at woodchuck. Let's ride on and when we
get a little nearer to him he'll give one them whistles of his and
then dodge into that crack in the rock."
It happened just as Hugh had said, and soon after they began to move
forward, the animal gave another shrill whistle and again disappeared
from view.
"There's quite a piece of burnt timber about a half mile off here to
the north; let's go over and look at that, and see if we can get the
fence-poles that we need; then we'll leave our horses and go afoot a
little way, to see if we can see any elk."
They rode over to the timber which had been killed by fire some years
before. Hugh spent some little time looking at it, but at length rode
out into an open park, unsaddled his horse and tied its rope to a
little tree, Jack doing the same. They took their rifles and started
off along the edge of the timber on foot.
"I see some elk sign in this timber, and some of it is right fresh,
but if you see any elk before I do, don't shoot. I don't want to kill
any old cows now, because their calves are right young and they'd be
liable to starve to death. If we can find a heifer we'll kill one;
she'll be in a pretty good order, and just what they want at the
ranch." They had not gone far before Jack noticed in the dirt some
tracks, and just as he was about to speak of them, Hugh stopped and
said:
"Now, son, I want you to look at these tracks: you see they look
considerable like cattle tracks, but they ain't, they're elk. Now,
look at this track here," he said, pointing to one of the largest,
"that looks a good deal like the track of a two-year-old critter, but
just see how long it steps; that will show you that it's an elk; the
sign shows that it's a bull, but a young one. These other tracks you
see here, they're cows and heifers and a yearling or two. Now, you
see, these tracks are fresh; just notice how the dirt in each one
seems kind of shining and polished. A big heavy animal putting its
hoof down hard on the dirt makes the place where its weight rested
look like that. Now, this track that I told you was a bull's, looks
different; you can see that for yourself; it isn't polished but it
looks kind of dull. The reason for that is that the wind has blown
the dust about in the hoof mark and has partly covered it up. On dry
ground like this an old track can always be told by that. Now, over
there," he continued, pointing, "are some tracks made in the spring,
when the ground was wet. Of course, you see that they sink in deep,
as any tracks would that were made in the mud. It ain't much use for
me to tell you about these things, except to make you notice quicker
what the difference is in the different tracks you see. A man's got
to study tracks a heap before ever he can become a good trailer.
There isn't anything but experience that'll teach you what a track
means, but often they tell a pretty plain story to a man who knows
how to read them. It's wonderful to me to go out up in the mountains
when there's a fresh snow on the ground. You can see just what all
the birds and animals have been doing since the snow fell; and often
from the tracks you see you can tell just what they were thinking
about."
"Yes, indeed, Hugh," said Jack, "Uncle Will has talked to me about
that, and he told me, too, that you were the best trailer he'd ever
seen. I want to keep my eyes open and try to learn from you as much
as I can."
"Well," replied Hugh, "I have been learning for a good many years,
and you can't expect to pick it all up in a few months. I'm mighty
glad though to tell you all I know."
From here they went on, and soon, turning to the right, followed a
narrow game trail which led along the top of a deep ravine, down
which flowed a brook that they could hear splashing and bubbling
among the rocks. They had not gone very far when a stick cracked
down below them by the brook, and Hugh stopped and stood listening.
He slipped a cartridge into his gun, and Jack imitated him, and then
both crouched in the trail and listened. A moment later something
was heard climbing the bank toward them, and Hugh, turning to Jack,
whispered, "It's a bear. Get ready." Jack cocked his gun and looked
with all his eyes, and presently, not twenty yards below, he saw
a brown animal step out of the bushes. "Shoot," said Hugh; and
Jack, aiming at the point of the bear's shoulder, fired. The animal
dropped and rolled out of sight among the bushes; but in a moment
he re-appeared, galloping toward them. "Shoot," said Hugh again, and
Jack threw the rifle to his shoulder and fired, but the bear kept
on. "Shoot again," said Hugh; "carefully, this time." And again Jack
aimed at the bear, now not ten yards from them, and fired. This time
the animal doubled up and rolled down the hill again, but before it
reached the fringe of bushes its motion stopped and it lay stretched
out in the sunlight.
"Good boy," said Hugh, "I believe you missed him with your second
shot, but the third one was all right. Did you feel like running?"
"No," said Jack, "I don't believe I did. I was too busy shoving
cartridges into my rifle, and trying to hit the right spot, to think
about anything else. But was he charging us, Hugh?"
"No," said Hugh, "I don't expect he was. You see, he hadn't no idea
that we were 'round until your first shot hit him, and he didn't know
where that came from, and was just trying to get away. He happened
to run in our direction, that was all. I don't think he wanted to be
mean. Well, you've killed your first bear, son, and you're surely
getting to be a real old hunter. You take to it in the right way, and
I'm right glad you do. If you and me could travel together for a year
or two, I'd guarantee to make a hunter of you. Well now, let's go
down and skin that little fellow."
They found the bear quite dead and with only two bullet holes in his
hide. The first one showed that Jack's first shot had been a bad
one; he had fired at the point of the bear's shoulder, but had hit it
in the top of the head, just grazing the skull. There was nothing to
show where the second shot had gone, but the third one had pierced
his chest and had gone lengthwise through his body.
"There," said Hugh, "you see what I told you; that first shot gave
him a rap on the head and sort o' stunned and dazed him, and I don't
believe he knew which way he was running. I suppose you'd like to
take off his hide, because he's the first bear you've ever killed,
but it ain't in very good order. You see, he's partly shed off, and
what's left of his old winter coat is all sunburned. Still, we may
as well skin him. You can use the hide for a while, and then, if you
like you can cut off his front paws, just to keep the long claws. You
see, he's a little fellow, just about the size of the one your uncle
killed that day we came out from town."
Jack helped to skin the bear, and found that it was hard, slow work.
"Yes," said Hugh, to whom he spoke of this, "skinning a bear is some
like skinning a beaver; you can't strip the hide at all, you've got
to cut every inch."
After the hide had been removed they carried it up to the trail and
made a bundle of it, and then, going down to the brook, washed the
blood from their hands, and Hugh sat down and smoked. As they sat
there Jack noticed two or three birds fly down toward where the bear
lay, and then two or three more. He asked Hugh what these were, but
Hugh had not seen them. He proposed that they should go up to the
trail where the bear-skin lay, and from which they could see the
carcass and the birds that visited it. They climbed the bank and were
hardly seated on the trail when a small grey bird pitched down out of
a pine tree on to the carcass, and began to peck at the meat. It was
at once followed by two or three others.
"Now, those birds," said Hugh, "are what I call meat hawks; some
calls them camp robbers. I expect they're a kind of a winter bird,
anyhow there's lots of them 'round in winter; they're the tamest
creatures you ever see. I've seen it sometimes when I was skinning a
deer, hung up, that they'd 'light on the legs of the deer and peck at
the meat, and sometimes they'd flutter right down to the ground at
my feet and eat the scraps that fell from my knife. They're dreadful
easy caught, too, if anybody was to take the trouble, and when you
catch 'em they don't seem a mite scared, but just peck and fight and
claw you as if they were as big as you are. There, that one," he
continued, as a large dark brown bird with a beautiful long crest
flew down to the carcass, "is a kind of a blue jay, I reckon. Anyway,
he looks some like the blue jays I used to see back in the States
when I was a boy, except that he's kind of brownish blue instead of
being light blue. Those camp robbers are afraid of him, and they
leave until he gets through, but if a magpie comes along, then the
blue jay leaves, and of course if a raven or an eagle comes, the
magpie has to do the waiting." Just as he spoke, a queer, chippering
noise was heard in one of the pines, and two beautiful magpies, with
glossy black heads and tails and white under parts, came to the
ground, and after hopping gracefully about for a moment or two, began
to feed on the carcass.
"Well," said Hugh, "we might stop here all day, watching these birds,
but we'd better be moving. We'll go back to the horses another way,
and, as I've got to pack this bear hide, you'll have to kill an elk,
if we see any."
Their way back was through beautiful green timber, free from
underbrush, the ground being covered with a soft black mould of
decaying pine needles. They had been walking briskly for some little
time, and Jack thought they must be getting near the horses, when
suddenly Hugh stopped and said; "Son, look around you and see whether
you see anything."
Jack thought there must be something special to see, and looked
carefully about. He could see only the green pines, their grey
trunks, and the black earth, sometimes brightened by shafts of
sunlight which came through openings in the green canopy above them.
After a minute he said, "No, Hugh, I don't see anything."
"Well," said Hugh, "there's something to see, and I expect it's
something that you never saw before. Let's go on a little way."
He stepped forward, turning a little to his right, and walked up to
the foot of a large tree, where Jack had noticed a patch of sunlight;
but when they got to the foot of the tree, to his astonishment and
delight, the boy saw lying there a little bright red, white spotted
animal, which he knew must be a calf elk. It looked a good deal like
a very young fawn, but was three or four times as large. Jack was on
his knees beside it in a moment, patting it and smoothing its skin,
and declaring it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. It lay
there absolutely without motion, and as he lifted its legs one by
one, and let them go again, they dropped back limp as if the animal
were dead.
"Well, son, I don't know what we're going to do with this calf," said
Hugh; "it's most too big for you to carry, and I can't pack both the
calf and the bear hide. Do you want to take it with you or to leave
it here?"
"Oh, Hugh," said Jack, "let's take it along; I think I can carry it,
and we can't be very far from the horses now."
"No," said Hugh, "we ain't. I guess we'll manage to pack it to them,
then it will be easy to get it down the hill. Do you think you could
carry it? Take it right across your shoulders, holding the fore legs
in one hand and the hind legs in the other. I'll lift it up for you,
but I reckon it's too heavy for you to pack far."
Jack took the calf on his back, but, as Hugh had said, it was pretty
heavy, and before long he had to put it down. Hugh left him there,
watching the calf and the bear-skin, went on to where the horses
were and brought them back. From behind his saddle he took a gunny
sack, in which he put the calf, cutting a hole in the side through
which its head protruded, and then tying the sack in front of Jack's
saddle, and putting the bear-skin behind his own, they started for
the house. When they came out on the trail where they could overlook
the valley, they saw near the ranch a great herd of animals, and Hugh
said, "Well, there's the horse roundup at last. Now we'll have plenty
of work for the next few days, cutting out these horses and branding
our own colts."