It was a strange place, indeed, in which I found myself. Our eyes were
unbandaged after we entered the portal of the ranch house, and when Big
Pete and I turned toward our guide, we were facing in a direction that
gave us a sweeping view of the entire ranch. And what we saw made us
marvel.
This farm, between the towering, almost insurmountable mountains, had
evidently been wrenched from what two decades before had been as much of
a wilderness as the Darlinkel Park across the divide. Timber clothed the
mountains on either hand but the fertile valley bottom was as rural as a
district of the middle west. On one hand stretched acres and acres of
ripened grain. Beyond was pasture land dotted with strange whitefaced
animals, which later proved to be hybrid buffalos, a strange cross
between wild and domestic cattle.[3] In other pastures and on the
hillsides I could see goats and sheep, and these too were evidently a
cross breed of wild and domestic stock, the goats having a very strange
resemblance to the fleet-footed shaggy old fellows we had seen on the
mountains, while the sheep closely resembled usual domestic sheep.
[Footnote 3: Since that time the late Buffalo Jones has bred
buffalo and domestic cattle and called the offspring "catelow."]
There were stables, too, and corrals, all made of logs, as was the ranch
house, but what seemed very strange to me was the fact that there were
no horses in sight. All of the animals at work in the fields were those
strange hybrid buffalo-oxen, all save one, a single, lame and apparently
almost blind burro that I saw lying in the sun. From his grayness about
the head I had little doubt that he was of great age.
There were hordes of strange poultry too,--strange to me at least, for
never had I expected to find flocking together wild turkeys, Canadian
geese, black ducks, wood ducks, and mallards (all with wings clipped so
that they never again could fly), sage hens, quail, spruce-grouse,
partridge, ptarmigan and western mountain quail. All seemed perfectly at
home and comfortably domesticated.
Beyond the poultry houses was still another outhouse, a long, low, log
building before which was a lawn. On the lawn were all manner of perches
and roosts and on these, sunning themselves and preening their feathers,
were several types of predaceous birds, ranging from huge and powerful
female eagles to smaller hawks and true falcons. This evidently was the
Wild Hunter's falconry.
Another thing that made an instant impression upon me was the number of
men at work about the place. The workmen were all, without an exception,
Indians, and as they moved about silently, their stoic, almost
expressionless faces held a decided look of contentment, a few of them
turned toward the porch with a frank, honest stare. There was no
evidence of fear or restraint in their actions but they always gave the
wolf dogs plenty of room as they passed them. These black beasts were
ugly, snarling things that showed no love for anyone; on the least
provocation menacing growls rumbled in their throats.
What manner of place was this that we had permitted ourselves to be led
into? Indeed, what manner of man was this strange host of ours? I shot a
sidelong glance at him and it seemed to me as if I caught a strange,
hunted look in his eyes, and a sad smile on his handsome but grim
countenance. A slight feeling of fear crept into my heart. Could this
strange man be my father? For some reason he certainly did attract me
and excite my sympathy, yet I stood in awe of him. The strangeness of my
surroundings, too, settled upon me. I turned toward Pete and I had a
premonition of evil. I could see that he too was affected the same way.
The valley was an earthly paradise, the Wild Hunter a kindly gentleman,
what then was it that gave me an uncomfortable and uneasy feeling? I
was eager to be alone with Pete for I knew that he would have some
interesting observations to make.
"I am disappointed, gentlemen, you say nothing. Isn't my ranch
interesting to you?" demanded the Wild Hunter, with a smile. In a low
smooth voice he gave some orders to a young Indian who was walking
toward the stables. The Indian instantly snapped into action and hurried
away as if one of the black wolf dogs were snapping at his heels, and I
felt certain that it was the youth whom we had been trailing.
A hurried and very unpleasant thought flashed through my mind: What was
the source of the power the Wild Hunter held over these Indians? They
were not slaves in this mountain-surrounded prison; this grim, forceful
but kindly wild man did not hold them through fear. He always smiled
when he greeted them, but he never smiled at his wolves; when giving
them orders or even looking at them, the expression of his face was
stern and almost fierce. But the man had asked a question. He was
expecting an answer.
"It is a wonderful place," I managed to stammer; "who could conceive of
such a remarkable ranch buried here in the heart of the wilderness?"
"It's a ring-tailed snorter, hamstring me if it hain't," said Big Pete
in an attempt to be enthusiastic.
The man's face glowed with pleasure.
"You are the first white men to see it. I think I have achieved
something here in the wilds, thanks a great deal to Pluto and his
strain."
"Eh, what?" exclaimed Big Pete in alarm.
"To--to--whom," I gasped, for to have the man actually confess an
alliance with Satan rather startled me also.
The Wild Hunter chuckled in an amused manner.
"Thanks to Pluto, I said. But Pluto is that black wolf-dog over there,
nevertheless. I think that the name 'Pluto' fits his character to a
nicety."
He pointed to the massive, deep-chested, long-haired, long-limbed,
vicious looking leader of his black wolf pack where it was chained to a
post. The great animal glared at his master when his name was mentioned.
He crouched twenty feet away with his slanting green eyes fixed
constantly on his master's face and in them ever flared a fierce, wicked
fire.
"Yes, you son of Satan, you and your hybrid whelps have helped me do all
this in spite of the fact that you hate me, and would love to tear me
limb from limb. You splendid, ugly brute, you are insensible to
kindness!"
I noticed that whenever he looked the wolf in the face his own
countenance became grim and his eyes exceedingly fierce and not unlike
the wolf itself in expression.
[Illustration: "I think the name 'Pluto' fits his character to a
nicety"]
"He hates me," he continued, turning to us, "because of his ancestors.
In him is the blood of a Great Dane noted for its strength, size and
ferocity, a fierce brute which I brought over the mountains with me many
years ago. Pluto's mother was a pure black wolf of a mean disposition,
and his father the half-breed son of a Great Dane and a she-wolf. He is
the fiercest and most bloodthirsty beast in the whole pack, he hates me
with the intense hatred of his wolfish nature, he hates me because he
knows that I am the master of the pack, the real leader, and he is
jealous. Since his puppy days he has watched for a chance to kill me;
twice he nearly succeeded--the time will no doubt come when it will be
his life or mine. Yet because of his wonderful strength, endurance and
sagacity, I could almost love him.
"His breed does not want to recognize any master. But _I am_ his
master!" cried the Wild Hunter as his eyes flashed and he struck himself
on his chest, "and he knows it. The only way, however, that I keep my
power over him and his pack is by forcing myself to think every time I
speak to them, now I am going to _kill you_, and brutes though they are
they can read my mind and fear me. Besides which self-interest helps a
little towards their loyalty. With me for a leader there is always a
kill at the end of the hunt, and they know that they come in for a share
of the food.
"Sometimes I fear the wolves will break loose and attack my Indians,
which I would very much regret, for the Redmen are faithful fellows and
we form a happy community. The Indians look upon me as Big Medicine
because I can control these medicine wolves."
Big Pete looked at the man with open admiration, a man who by the sheer
power of his will could control a band of wolves, any one of which was
powerful enough to kill an ox, certainly was a man to please the wild
nature of Big Pete. "But," said Pete, "you say Pluto has helped you.
How?" he asked.
"How," exclaimed the Wild Hunter, "why, gentlemen, by governing the pack
as savage as himself. The pack is the secret of my whole success; my
power over them first won the allegiance of the Indians, won their
admiration and their respect. They know that I could turn those wolves
upon them at any moment, but they also know that I would not think of
doing such an act and they are human and love me; the wolves are brutes
and not susceptible to kindness. The wolves hate the Redmen as they hate
me, but they supplied us all with food, they secured for us our winter
meat while the men worked to build houses and clear the land, and thus
made it possible for us to start this settlement. They even acted as
pack animals for us, each of them carrying as much as seventy pounds in
weight on their backs. But be on your guard, gentlemen, be on your
guard! Remember that you are strangers to the wolves and they will not
hesitate, if the opportunity offers, to rend you and even devour you."
A moment later his expression changed.
"Enough of this," he exclaimed in pleasanter tones, "come, dinner is
served," and turning, he led the way through the broad doorway of the
log ranch house into an almost sumptuously furnished dining room where
two silent, soft-footed Indians began immediately to serve a truly
remarkable meal.
"He may be lo-coed," whispered Pete to me as we took our places at the
table, "but I'll tell the folks, he is a master looney alright. He knows
how to make Injuns love him and varmints fear him, he kin pack all his
duffle in my bag, he need not cough up eny money when he's with me.
Reckon we be alright here, but waugh! we've gotter watch tha' black wolf
pack!--yes and also that young Indian whose ram you shot; it seems he
looks after the wolves and sees to it that they are fastened up in their
corral. I wouldn't want him to be sort of careless, you know."