THE MOUNTAIN RAM
It snowed for two days and two nights without ceasing, and then turned
so cold that the snow froze over, a covering like glass forming upon it.
Will broke a way to the stable, where he talked to the animals and fed
them with the hay which had been cut with forethought. With the help of
the others he also opened a path down to a little stream flowing into
the lake, where the horses and mules were able to obtain water, spending
the rest of the time in the cavern.
The men usually had a small fire and they passed the time while they
were snowed in in jerking more meat, repairing their clothes and doing a
hundred other things that would be of service later on. Brady stored his
traps in a remote corner of the cavern, hiding them so artfully that it
was not likely anyone save the four would ever find them.
"I shall have no further use for them for a long time," he said, "but
after we reach our gold I mean to return here and get them."
Will, who noticed his grammatical and good English, rather unusual on
the border, asked him how he came to be a fur hunter.
"Drift," he replied. "You would not think it, but it was my original
intention to become a schoolmaster. An excursion into the west made me
fall in love with the forest, the mountains, solitude and independence.
I've always taken enough furs for a good living, and I'm absolutely my
own master. Moreover, I'm an explorer and it gives me a keen pleasure to
find a new river or a new mountain. And this northwest is filled with
wonders. After we find the gold and my beaver colony, I'm going to write
a book of a thousand pages about the wonders I've seen."
"I never saw anybody that wrote a book," said the Little Giant with the
respect of the unlettered for the lettered, "an' I confess I ain't much
of a hand at readin' 'em, but when I'm rich ez I expect to be a year or
two from now, an' I build my fine house in St. Looey, I mean to have a
room full of 'em, in fine leather an' morocco bindin's."
"Will you read them?" asked Will.
"Me read 'em! O' course not!" replied the Little Giant. "I'll hire a man
to read 'em, an' he kin keep busy on them books while I'm away on my
long huntin' trips."
"But that won't be you reading 'em."
"What diff'unce does that make? All a book asks is to be read by
somebody, en' ef it's read by my reader 'stead o' me it's jest the
same."
The days confirmed them in their choice of Brady as the fourth partner
in the great hunt. Despite his rather stern and solemn manner he was at
heart a man of most cheerful and optimistic temperament. He had, too, a
vast fund of experience and he knew much of the wilderness that was
unknown to others.
"What do you think of our plan of going straight ahead as soon as we can
travel, and passing over the left shoulder of the White Dome?" asked
Boyd.
"It's wisest," replied Brady thoughtfully. "I've heard something of this
Felton, with whom you had such a sanguinary encounter, and I'm inclined
to think from all you tell me that he has had a hint about the mine. He
has affiliated with the Indians and he can command a large band of his
own, white men, mostly murderous refugees from the border, and the worst
type of half breeds. It's better for us to keep as long as we can in the
depths of the mountains despite all the difficulties of travel there."
On the fifth day it turned much warmer and rained heavily, and so
violent were the changes in the high mountains that there was a
tremendous manifestation of thunder and lightning. They watched the
display of electricity with awe from the door of the cavern, and Will
saw the great sword blades of light strike more than once on the rocks
of the topmost peaks.
"I think," said Brady devoutly, "that we have been watched over. Where
else in the mountains could we have found such a refuge for our animals
and ourselves?"
"Nowhere," said the Little Giant, cheerfully, "an' I want to say that
I'm enjoyin' myself right here. We four hev got more o' time than
anythin' else, an' I ain't goin' to stir from our nice, comf'table home
'til the travelin's good."
The others were in full agreement with him, and, in truth, delay was
absolutely necessary as a march now would have been accompanied by new
and great dangers, snow slides, avalanches, and the best of the paths
slippery with mud and water. When the rain ceased, although a warm sun
that followed it hastened the melting of the snow, Will released the
animals from the stable and with pleasure saw them run about among the
trees, where the snow had melted and sprigs of hardy grass were again
showing green against the earth. After they had drunk at the lake and
galloped up and down awhile, they began to nibble the grass, while Will
walked among them and stroked their manes or noses, and was as pleased
as they were. Brady's three horses were already as firm friends of his
as the earlier animals.
"Did you ever notice that boy's ways with hosses an' mules?" said the
Little Giant to Brady. "He's shorely a wonder. I think he's got some
kind o' talk that we don't understand but which they do. My critters and
Boyd's would quit us at any time fur him, an' so will yours."
"I perceive it is true, my friend, and so far as my horses are concerned
I don't grudge him his power. Now that the snow has gone and the
greenness is returning this valley truly looks like the land of Canaan.
And it is well for us to be outside again. People who live the lives
that we do flourish best in the open air."
The warm days lasted and all the snow melted, save where it lay
perpetually on the crest of the White Dome. Often they heard it
thundering in masses down the slopes. The whole earth was soaked with
water, and swift streams ran in every gulch and ravine and canyon. Will,
although he was impatient to be up and away, recognized now how
thoroughly necessary it was to wait. The mountains in such a condition
were impassable, and the valley was safe, too, because for the time
nobody could come there either.
Big game wandered down again and Brady shot another large grizzly bear,
the skin of which they saved and tanned, thinking it might prove in time
as useful as the first. Another deer was added to their larder, and they
also shot a number of wild fowl. But as the hills began to dry their
minds returned with increasing strength to the great mine, hidden among
far-away peaks. All were eager to be off, and it was only the patience
coming from experience that delayed the start.
The valley dried out rapidly. The snow, deep as it had been, did not
seem to have done any harm to the grass, which reappeared fresher and
stronger than ever, forming a perfect harvest for the horses and mules.
Then the time for departure came and they began to pack, having added
considerably to their stores of skins and cured meats.
Brady also had been exceedingly well equipped for a long journey, and
the temporary abandonment of his traps gave them a chance to add further
to their food supplies. All four of them, in addition to their food,
carried extra weapons, including revolvers, rifles, and a fine
double-barreled shotgun for every one. The two caverns, the one for the
men and the other for the horses, they left almost as they had fitted
them up.
"We may come here ag'in," said the Little Giant. "It's true that
Felton's men an' the Sioux also may come, but I don't think it's ez
likely, 'cause the Sioux are mostly plains warriors, an' them that ain't
are goin' down thar anyhow to fight, while the outlaws likely are ridin'
to the west huntin' fur us."
"Anyway," said Stephen Brady, in his deep, bass voice, "we'll trust to
Providence. It's amazing how events happen in your favor when you really
trust."
Although eager to be on their way, they felt regret at leaving the
valley. It had given them a snug home and shelter during the storm, and
the melting of the snow had acted like a gigantic irrigation scheme,
making it greener and fresher than before. As they climbed the western
slope it looked more than ever a gem in its mountain setting. Will saw
far beneath him the blue of lake and the green of grass, and he waved
his hand in a good-bye, but not a good-bye forever.
"I expect to sleep there again some day," he said.
"It's a fine home," said Brady, "but we'll find other lakes and other
valleys. As I have told you before, I have trapped for years through
these regions, and they contain many such places."
They pressed forward three more days and three more nights toward the
left shoulder of the White Dome, which now rose before them clear and
dazzlingly bright against the shining blue of the sky. The air was
steadily growing colder, owing to their increasing elevation, but they
had no more storms of rain, sleet or snow. They were not above the
timber line, and the vegetation, although dwarfed, was abundant. There
was also plenty of game, and in order to save their supplies they shot a
deer or two. On the third day Will through his glasses saw a smoke, much
lower down on their left, and he and the Little Giant, descending a
considerable distance to discover what it meant, were able to discern a
deep valley, perhaps ten miles long and two miles broad, filled with
fine pastures and noble forest, and with a large Indian village in the
centre. Smoke was rising from at least a hundred tall tepees, and
several hundred horses were grazing on the meadows.
"Tell me what you can about them," said the lad, handing the glasses to
the Little Giant.
"I think they're Teton Sioux," said Bent, "an' ez well ez I kin make out
they're livin' a life o' plenty. I kin see game hangin' up everywhar to
be cured. Sometimes, young William, I envy the Indians. When the
weather's right, an' the village is in a good place an' thar's plenty to
eat you never see any happier fellers. The day's work an' huntin' over,
they skylark 'roun' like boys havin' fun with all sorts o' little
things. You wouldn't think they wuz the same men who could enjoy
roastin' an enemy alive. Then, they ain't troubled a bit 'bout the
future, either. Termorrer kin take care o' itself. I s'pose that's what
downs 'em, an' gives all the land some day to the white man. Though I
hev to fight the Indian, I've a lot o' sympathy with him, too."
"I feel the same way about it," said Will. "Maybe we won't have any more
trouble with them."
The Little Giant shook his head.
"We may dodge 'em in the mountains, though that ain't shore," he said,
"but when we go down into the plains, ez we've got to do sooner or
later, the fur will fly. I'm mighty glad we picked up Steve Brady,
'cause fur all his solemn ways he's a pow'ful good fightin' man. Now, I
think we'd better git back up the slope, 'cause warriors from that
village may be huntin' 'long here an', however much we may sympathize
with the Indians we're boun' to lose a hull lot o' that sympathy when
they come at us, burnin' fur our scalps."
"Correct," laughed Will, and as fast as they could climb they rejoined
the others, telling what they had seen. Brady showed some apprehension
over their report.
"I've noticed that mountain sheep and goats are numerous through here,
and while Indians live mostly on the buffalo, yet they have many daring
hunters in the mountains, looking for goats and sheep, and maybe in the
ravines for the smaller bears, the meat of which they love."
"And you think we may be seen by some such hunters?" said Will.
"Perhaps so, and in order to avoid such bad luck I suggest that we seek
still greater height."
They agreed upon it, though the Little Giant grumbled at the hard luck
that compelled them to scale the tops of high mountains, and they began
at once a perilous ascent, which would not have been possible for the
horses had they not been trained by long experience. They also entered a
domain of bad weather, being troubled much by rain, heavy winds and
occasional snows, and at night it was so cold that they invariably built
a fire in some ravine or deep gully.
Will calculated that they were at least ten thousand feet above the sea
level, and that the White Dome, which was now straight ahead, must be
between three and four thousand feet higher. They reckoned that they
could circle the peak on the left at their present height, and they made
good progress, as there seemed to be fewer ravines and canyons close to
the dome.
Nevertheless, as they approached they came to a dip much deeper than
usual, but it was worth the descent into it, as they found there in the
sheltered spaces plenty of grass for the horses, and they were quite
willing to rest also, as every nerve and muscle was racked by the
mountain climbing. Still holding that time was their most abundant
possession, the hunter suggested that they spend a full day and night in
the dip, and all the others welcomed the idea.
Will, being younger than the others, had more physical elasticity, and a
few hours restored him perfectly. Then he decided to take his rifle and
go up the dip looking for a mountain sheep, and the others being quite
willing, he was soon making his way through the short bushes toward the
north. He prided himself on having become a good hunter and trailer, and
even here in the heart of the high mountains he neglected no precaution.
The dip extended about two miles into the north and then it began to
rise rapidly, ending at last in huge, craggy rocks, towering a thousand
feet overhead, and Will considered himself in great luck when he saw a
splendid ram standing upon one of these stony pinnacles.
The sheep, sharply outlined against the rock and the clear sky, looked
at least double his real size, and Will, anxious to procure fresh game,
and feeling some of the hunter's ambition, resolved to stalk him. The
animal reminded him of a lookout, and perhaps he was, as he stood on his
dizzy perch, gazing over the vast range of valley, and the White Dome
that now seemed so near.
The lad reached the first rocky slope and began slowly to creep in a
diagonal line that took him upward and also toward the sheep. It was
difficult work to keep one's footing and carry one's rifle also, but his
pride was up and he clung to his task, until his muscles began to ache
and the perspiration came out on his face. He was in fear lest the sheep
would go away, but the great ram stood there, immovable, his head
haughtily erect, a monarch of his tribe, and Will became thoroughly
convinced that he was a watchman.
His repeating rifle carried a long distance, but he did not want to make
an uncertain shot, and he continued his laborious task of climbing which
yielded such slow results. The sheep took no notice of him, still gazing
over valley and ranges and at the White Dome. If he saw him, the lad was
evidently in his eyes a speck in a vast world and not worth notice.
Will felt a sort of chagrin that he was not considered more dangerous,
and, patting his rifle, he resolved to make the ram realize that a real
hunter was after him.
He crawled painfully and cautiously around a big rock and something
whirring by his ear rang sharply on the stone. He saw to his amazement a
long feathered arrow dropping away from the target on which it had
struck in vain, and then roll down the side of the mountain.
He knew, too, that the arrow had passed within a few inches of his ear,
aimed with deadly purpose, and for a moment or two his blood was cold
within his veins. Instantly he turned aside and flattened himself
against a stony upthrust. As he did so he heard the ring on the rock
again and a second feathered arrow tumbled into the void.
His first emotion was thankfulness. He lay in a shallow hollow now and
it was not easy for any arrow to reach him there. He was unharmed as
yet, and he had the great repeating rifle which should be a competent
answer to arrows. Some loose stones were lying in the hollow, and he
cautiously built them into a low parapet, which increased his
protection. Then, peeping over the stones, he tried to discover the
location of his enemy or enemies, if they should be plural, but he saw
only the valley below with its touch of sheltered green, the vast rocky
sides about it, and over all the towering summit of the White Dome.
There was nothing, save the flight of the feathered arrows, to indicate
that a human being was near. Far out on the jutting crag the mountain
sheep still stood, a magnificent ram, showing no consciousness of
danger or, if conscious of it, defying it. Will suddenly lost all desire
to take his life, due, perhaps, to his own resentment at the effort of
somebody to take his own.
He believed that the arrows had come from above, but whether from a
point directly overhead or to the right or to the left he had no way of
telling. It was a hidden foe that he had to combat, and this ignorance
was the worst feature of his position. He did not know which way to
turn, he did not know which road led to escape, but must lie in his
narrow groove until the enemy attacked.
He had learned from his comrades, experienced in the wilderness and in
Indian warfare, that perhaps the greatest of all qualities in such
surroundings was patience, and if it had not been for such knowledge he
might have risked a third arrow long ago, but, as it was, he kept
perfectly still, flattening himself against the cliff, sheltered by the
edge of the natural bowl and the little terrace of stones he had built.
He might have fired his rifle to attract the attention of his comrades,
but he judged that they were at the camp and would not hear his shot. He
would fight it out himself, especially as he believed that he was
menaced by but a single Indian, a warrior who perhaps had been stalking
the mountain sheep also, when he had beheld the creeping lad.
Great as was the strength of the youth's will and patience, he began to
twist his body a little in the stony bowl and seek here and there for a
sight of his besieger. He could make out stony outcrops and projections
above him, every one of which might shelter a warrior, and he was about
to give up the quest when a third arrow whistled, struck upon the ledge
that he had built and, instead of falling into the chasm, rebounded into
the bowl wherein he lay.
The barb had been broken by the rock against which it struck so hard,
though the shaft, long, polished and feathered, showed that it had been
made by an artist. But he did not know enough about arrows to tell
whether it was that of a Sioux or of a warrior belonging to some other
tribe. Looking at it a little while, he threw it into the chasm, and
settled back to more waiting.
The day was now well advanced and a brilliant sun in the slope of the
heavens began to pour fiery shafts upon the side of the cliff. Will had
usually found it cold at such a height, but now the beams struck
directly upon him and his face was soon covered with perspiration. He
was assailed also by a fierce, burning thirst, and a great anger lay
hold of him. It was a terrible joke that he should be held there in the
hole of the cliff by an invisible warrior who used only arrows against
him, perhaps because he feared a shot from a rifle would bring the white
lad's comrades.
If the Indian would not use a rifle because of the report, then the case
was the reverse with Will. He had thought that the men were too far away
to hear, but perhaps the warrior was right, and raising the repeating
rifle he sent a bullet into the void. The sharp report came back in many
echoes, but he heard no reply from the valley. A second shot, and still
no answer. It was evident that the three were too distant to hear, and,
for the present, he thought it wise to waste no more bullets.
The power of the sun increased, seeming to concentrate its rays in the
little hollow in which Will lay. His face was scorched and his burning
thirst was almost intolerable. Yet he reflected that the heat must be at
the zenith. Soon the sun would decline, and then would come night, under
the cover of which he might escape.
He heard a heavy, rolling sound and a great rock crashed into the valley
below. Will shuddered and crowded himself back for every inch of shelter
he could obtain. A second rock rolled down, but did not come so near,
then a third bounded directly over his head, followed quickly by another
in almost the same place.
It was a hideous bombardment, but he realized that so long as he kept
close in his little den he was safe. It also told him that his opponent
was directly above him, and when the volleys of rocks ceased he might
get a shot.
The missiles poured down for several minutes and then ceased abruptly.
Evidently the warrior had realized the futility of his avalanche and
must now be seeking some other mode of attack. It caused Will chagrin
that he had not seen him once during all the long attack, but he noticed
with relief that the sun would soon set beyond the great White Dome. The
snow on the Dome itself was tinged now with fire, but it looked cool
even at the distance, and assuaged a little his heat and thirst. He
knew that bye and bye the long shadows would fall, and then the grateful
cold of the night would come.
[Illustration: The body of a warrior shot downward, striking on the
ledges.]
He moved a little, flexed his muscles, grown stiff by his cramped
position, and as he did so he caught a glimpse of a figure on the south
face of the wall. But it was so fleeting he was not sure. If he had only
brought his glasses with him he might have decided, but he was without
them, and he concluded finally that it was merely an optical illusion.
He and the Indian had the mountain walls to themselves, and the warrior
could not have moved around to that point.
In spite of his decision his eyes at length wandered again to that side
of the wall, and a second time he thought he caught a glimpse of a human
figure creeping among the rocks, but much nearer now. Then he realized
that it was no illusion. He had, in very truth, seen a man, and as he
still looked a rifle was thrust over a ledge, a puff of fire leaping
from its muzzle. From a point above him came a cry that he knew to be a
death yell, and the body of a warrior shot downward, striking on the
ledges until it bounded clear of them and crashed into the valley below.
Then the figure of the man who had fired the shot stepped upon a rocky
shelf, held aloft the weapon with which he had dealt sudden and terrible
death, and cried in a tremendous voice:
"Come forth, young William! Your besieger will besiege no more! Ef I do
say it myself, I've never made a better shot."
It was the Little Giant. Never had the sight of him been more welcome,
and raising himself stiffly to his feet and moving his own rifle about
his head, Will shouted in reply:
"It was not only your greatest shot, but the greatest shot ever made by
anybody."
"Stay whar you are," cried Bent. "You're too stiff an' sore to risk
climbin' jest yet. I'll be with you soon."
But it was almost dark before the Little Giant crept around the face of
the cliff and reached the hollow in which the lad lay. Then he told him
that he had seen some of the rocks falling and as he was carrying Will's
glasses he was able to pick out the warrior at the top of the cliff. The
successful shot followed and the siege was over.
Night had now come and it was an extremely delicate task to find their
way back to the valley, but they made the trip at last without mishap.
Once again on level ground Will was forced to sit down and rest until a
sudden faintness passed. The Little Giant regarded him with sympathy.
"You had a pretty tough time, young William, thar's no denyin' that," he
said. "It's hard to be cooped up in a hole in a mountainside, with an
enemy shootin' at you an' sendin' avalanches down on you, an' you never
seein' him a-tall."
"I never saw him once until he plunged from the cliff with your bullet
through him."
"Wa'al, it's all over now, an' we'll go back to the camp. The boys had
been worryin' 'bout you some, and I concluded I'd come out an' look fur
you, an' ef it hadn't been fur my concludin' so I guess you'd been
settin' thar in that holler a month from now, an' the Indian would hev
been settin' in a holler above you. At least I hev saved you from a long
waitin' spell."
"You have," said Will with heartfelt emphasis, "and again I thank you."
"Come on, then. I kin see the fire shinin' through the trees an' Jim an'
Steve cookin' our supper."
Will hurried along, but his knees grew weak again and objects swam
before his eyes. He had not yet recovered his strength fully after
passing through the tremendous test of mental and physical endurance,
when he lay so long in that little hollow in the side of the mountain.
The Little Giant was about to thrust out a hand and help sustain him,
but he did not do so, remembering that it would hurt the lad's pride.
The gold hunter, uneducated, spending his life in the wilds, had
nevertheless a delicacy of feeling worthy of the finest flower of
civilization.
Will was near to the fire now and the pleasant aroma of broiling venison
came to him. Boyd and Brady were moving about the flames, engaged in
pleasant homely tasks, and all his strength returned. Once more his head
was steady and his muscles strong.
"I made a long stay," he called cheerfully to them, "too long, I fear,
nor do I bring a mountain sheep back with me."
The sharp eyes of the hunter and the trapper saw at once in his pallid
face and exaggerated manner that something unusual had happened, but
they pretended to take no notice.
"Did you see any sheep?" asked Boyd.
"Yes," replied the lad, "I had a splendid view of a grand ram, standing
high on a jutting stone over the great valley."
"What became of him?"
"I don't know. I became so busy with something else that I forgot all
about him, and he must have gone away in the twilight. An Indian in a
niche above me began firing arrows at me, and I had to stick close in a
little hollow in the stone so he couldn't reach me. If the Little Giant
hadn't come along, and made another of his wonderful shots I suppose I'd
be staying there for a week to come."
"Tom can shoot a little," said Boyd, divining the whole story from the
lad's few sentences, "and he also has a way of shooting at the right
time. Now, you sit down here, Will, and eat these steaks I'm broiling,
and I'll give you a cup of coffee, too, just one cup though, because
we're sparing our coffee as much as we can now."
Will ate and drank with a great appetite, and then he told more fully of
his adventure with the foe whom he had never seen until the Little
Giant's bullet sent him spinning into the void.
"He'd have got you," said Brady thoughtfully, "if Tom hadn't come
along."
"You know we wuz worried 'bout him stayin' so long," said the Little
Giant, "an' so I went out to look fur him. It wuz lucky that I took his
glasses along, or I might never hev seen him or the Sioux. I don't want
to brag, but that wuz one o' my happy thoughts."
"You had nothing to do with taking the glasses, Tom Bent," said Brady
seriously.
"Why, it wuz my own idee!"
"Not at all. The idea was in your head but it was not put there by your
own mind. It was put there by the Infinite, and it was put there because
Will's time had not yet come. You were merely an instrument, Tom Bent."
"Mebbe I wuz. I'm not takin' any credit to myself fur deep thinkin' an'
I 'low you know more 'bout these things than I do, Steve Brady, since
you've had your mind on 'em so much an' so long. An' ef I wuz used ez an
instrument to save Will, I'm proud that it wuz so."
Will, who was lying on the turf propped up by his elbow before the fire,
looked up at the skies, which were now a clear silver, in which
countless stars appeared to hang, lower and larger than he had ever seen
them before. It was a beautiful sky, and whether it was merely fate or
chance that had sent the Little Giant to his aid he felt with the poet
that God was in his heaven, and, for the time at least, all was right
with his world.
"You got a good sight of the Indian, did you, Tom?" asked Boyd.
"I saw him plain through the glasses. He wuz a Sioux. I couldn't make no
mistake. Like ez not he wuz a hunter from the village we saw on the
slope below, an' whar one hunter is another may not be fur away."
"Thinking as you do," said Boyd, "and thinking as I do the same way you
do, I think we'd better put out our fire and shift to another part of
the valley."
"That's a lot of 'thinks,'" said Brady, "but it seems to me that you're
both right, and I've no doubt such thoughts are put into our minds to
save our lives. Perhaps it would be best for us to start up the slopes
at once, but if our time is coming tonight it will come and no flight of
ours will alter it."
Nevertheless they took the precaution to stamp out the last coal, and
then moved silently with the animals to another part of the dip. While
they were tethering their horses and mules there in a little glade all
the animals began to tremble violently and it required Will's utmost
efforts to soothe them. The acute ears of Brady detected a low growling
on their right, not far from the base of the cliff.
"Come, Tom," he said to the Little Giant. "You and I will see what it
is, and be sure you're ready with that rifle of yours. You ought to
shoot beautifully in this clear moonlight."
They disappeared among the bushes, but returned in a few minutes,
although the growling had become louder and was continuous. Both men had
lost a little of their ruddiness.
"What was it?" asked Will.
"It wuz your friend, the Sioux warrior who held you in the cliff so
long," replied the Little Giant, shuddering. "Half a dozen big mountain
wolves are quarrelin' 'bout the right place to bury him in. But, anyway,
he's bein' buried, an' mighty fast too."
Will shuddered also, and over and over again. In fact, his nervous
system had been so shaken that it would not recover its full force for a
day, and the others, trained to see all things, noticed it.
"You soothe them animals ag'in, young William," said the Little Giant,
"an' we'll spread the blankets fur our beds here in the bushes."
Bent again showed supreme judgment, as in quieting the fears of the
horses and mules for the second time Will found that renewed strength
flowed back into his own nervous system, and when he returned to the
fireless camp his hand and voice were once more quite steady.
"There is your bed, William," said Brady. "You lie on one blanket, put
the other over you, and also one of the bearskins. It's likely to be a
dry and cold night, but anyway, whether it rains or snows, it will rain
or snow on the just and the unjust, and blankets and bearskin should
keep you dry. That growling in the bushes, too, has ceased, and our
friend, the Sioux, who sought your life, has found a dreadful grave."
Will shuddered once more, but when he crept between the blankets his
nerves were soothed rapidly and he soon fell asleep.
The three men kept watch and watch through the night, and they saw no
Indian foe. Once Boyd heard a rustling in the bushes, and he made out
the figure of a huge mountain wolf that stood staring at them for a
moment. The horses and mules began to stir uneasily, and, picking up a
stone, the hunter threw it with such good aim that the wolf, struck
smartly on the body, ran away.
The animals relapsed into quiet, and nothing more stirred in the bushes,
until the leaves began to move under the light breeze that came at
dawn.