WHAT OSCAR’S VISITOR DID.
Lish the Wolfer had not passed many days in his new camp before he began
to see very plainly that he had not bettered his prospects by coming
there. For reasons we have already given, game was not as abundant as it
was in that other hunting ground, and something must be done about it,
or the furs he would carry back to the settlements in the spring would
not sell for any great sum.
There was only one thing he could do, and that was to carry out a plan
that had long ago suggested itself to him.
Lish knew that a man of Big Thompson’s active habits would not be
content to pass more than half his time in camp doing nothing, but that
he would devote all his spare hours to trapping. He was as successful in
this line as he was in causing the arrest of those who violated the law
by selling arms and ammunition to hostile Indians, and if Lish could
only find out where his traps were set, and visit them occasionally
while the lawful owner was absent, he might make something handsome by
it.
The only objection to this plan was that there was a spice of danger in
it; but this Lish hoped to avoid by the celerity and secrecy of his
movements.
Having pondered the matter for almost a month, the wolfer set out for
the valley from which he had so hastily retreated, intending to give it
a good looking over, and to be governed in his future movements by what
he saw there.
He took Tom’s last blanket from his shoulders while the latter was
asleep, and left him without a stick of wood with which to replenish the
fire when he awoke.
He went into camp that night on the side of the valley directly opposite
to the thicket in which Oscar’s cabin stood; and, at an early hour the
next morning, he had that cabin under surveillance. He saw Big Thompson
and his young companion when they started for the gorge—this was the
morning on which the guide began his second journey to the fort—and, as
soon as they were out of sight, he ran across the valley from the
willows and plunged into the woods behind the cabin.
The impulse to look into it, and see if there was anything there worth
stealing, was very strong; but the fear that Big Thompson might come
back and find him there was stronger, and he did not yield to that
impulse.
He followed about half a mile in the rear of the two hunters, keeping
them always in sight; and, when he saw them shake hands and separate at
the mouth of the gorge, one going on toward the prairie, while the
other—after loitering about for a while—came back into the valley, his
delight knew no bounds.
He knew as well as Oscar did that Big Thompson was about to make an
effort to reach the fort; and his first care must be to watch him, and
see if he succeeded in getting through the gorge. If he did, so much the
better for himself, for he would have a clear field for his operations.
Leaving Oscar to go where he pleased, until it suited his convenience to
look after him, the wolfer ran along in the edge of the woods until he
reached the gorge. A high hill arose on one side of it, and this the
wolfer scaled, after considerable trouble, and sat down on the top of it
to watch Big Thompson’s progress.
From his lofty perch he kept the guide in sight for more than an hour;
and the ease with which the latter passed over the drifts would have
satisfied a less crafty and suspicious person that there was no danger
to be apprehended from his unexpected return.
But Lish was so very much afraid of Big Thompson that he dared not take
any risks. He kept his position on the top of the hill until it was
almost dark, and then scrambled down and ran back to his camp.
“I s’pose I might have turned that thar chap outen that thar cabin, an’
slept for onct with a tight roof over my head an’ plenty of blankets to
keep me warm,” muttered the wolfer, as he searched about in the timber
for some dry wood with which to start his fire. “But if Big Thompson
_should_ ’a’ happened to come back in the night—whooppee! Howsomever,
who keers? I’ll go thar bright an’ arly in the mornin’, and take
everything I kin lay my hands on to. I’ll larn that young chap that he’s
barkin’ up the wrong tree when he tries to shet me into the
guard-house!”
By the time daylight came, however, the wolfer had made a slight change
in his programme. Before visiting the cabin, he thought it would be a
good plan to hunt up Big Thompson’s traps, and thus make sure of
something to repay him for his long journey. After that he would take a
look at the camp, and, if the coast was clear, make a descent upon it;
but, if he found that the guide had returned during the night, he would
pick up the game he had stolen from the traps and make all haste to get
back into his own valley.
This programme was duly carried out, and the result exceeded the
wolfer’s most sanguine expectations. Both sides of the brook were lined
with traps, and Lish robbed and stole so many that, by the time he found
the last one, his load was as heavy as he could conveniently manage.
His first work was to lighten it, which he did by removing the skins of
the stolen animals, which, with the traps, he placed among the
evergreens, out of sight.
He was very proud of his morning’s work, and his success gave him
courage.
The wolfer now crossed to the nearest bluffs; and, running along under
cover of the timber, finally took up a position from which he could
command a view of the cabin door.
He saw Oscar when he came out and went toward the brook to make the
round of his traps, but he did not dare go any nearer the cabin. The
fear that Big Thompson might be in there held him back.
It was three hours before the young taxidermist returned; and, when he
came in sight, there was something in his attitude and movements which
told Lish that the boy had discovered his loss.
As soon as Oscar disappeared through the door, the wolfer arose to his
feet and came out of his hiding place. This was the time, if ever, to
ascertain whether or not Big Thompson was at home.
He ran toward the cabin with noiseless footsteps; and, placing his ear
close to one of the cracks between the logs, listened intently.
No sound came from the inside, and this emboldened him to move around to
the door and listen there. Still he heard nothing, and this gave him
courage to thrust his head into the cabin.
There sat Oscar, gazing fixedly into the fire, and he was alone. The
hinges creaked dolefully as the wolfer laid his hand upon the door, and
this aroused Oscar, who jumped to his feet and ran forward as if he
meant to shut the intruder out; but, if that was his object, Lish
defeated it by throwing the door wide open and stepping across the
threshold.
“Hold on thar!” he exclaimed in tones which he intended should strike
terror to the boy’s heart and drive away all thoughts of escape or
resistance. “If ye come an inch nigher I’ll send ye to kingdom come
quicker’n ye could bat yer eye!”
Oscar stopped and stood motionless, for it would have been folly to do
anything else. The wolfer held his rifle at a “ready,” the hammer was
raised and his finger was on the trigger.
“So yer the chap as wanted to put me into the guard-house, be ye?”
exclaimed Lish, after he had given his prisoner a good looking over.
“I?” cried Oscar. “I guess not!”
“Wal, I guess ye be,” said Lish, taking something from his pocket and
throwing it at Oscar—he was afraid to hand it to him for fear that the
boy would seize his gun. He was so big a coward that he dared not meet a
youth of sixteen on anything like equal terms. “Read that, an’ see if ye
aint.”
It was a piece of paper; and, when Oscar picked it up and opened it, he
saw that it was the note he had written to his brother on the day he
left that bundle of clothing behind the rock.
But there were some words in the note that did not belong there—some
that related to a fight and a theft, and an attempt that was to be made
to arrest the wolfer. Tom had put them there to refresh his memory, and
to enable him to read the note twice alike.
Oscar saw through it all, and wondered how his brother could be guilty
of such an act of meanness, to call it by no harder name.
“What do ye say now?” demanded the wolfer, as Oscar tossed the note back
to him.
“I have nothing at all to say. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll mighty soon show ye!” Lish almost shouted. “Git outen here. Cl’ar
yerself sudden, an’ don’t let me find yer in sight when I come out,
nuther!”
Oscar, who was so greatly bewildered that he scarcely knew what he was
doing, put on his overcoat and cap and left the cabin, the wolfer
stepping out of the door and covering him with his rifle as he passed.
“Well,” said he resignedly, as he walked slowly toward the brook, “this
knocks us. There is no way out of this scrape. The man’s object is
revenge as well as plunder, and he’ll not leave us a skin. My rifle,
revolver, ammunition, and provisions will all go, too; for what he can’t
carry away he will doubtless destroy. O Tom, how could you put him up to
such a thing?”
Having reached the willows, Oscar found a hiding-place among them, and
set himself to watch the movements of the robber. Of course he could not
tell what he was doing inside the cabin, but he noticed that he came to
the door every few minutes and looked down the valley toward the gorge.
Oscar knew that he was watching for Big Thompson, and wished most
heartily that the guide would make his appearance. But luck was on the
wolfer’s side this time, and he was allowed to proceed with his
depredations without being disturbed.
After he had been at work in the cabin a quarter of an hour, he came to
the door, carrying over his shoulder the plunder he had selected, and
which was made up in the form of a pack-saddle.
This made it evident that he intended to make either the pony or the
mule carry it home for him. He wanted to catch the mule, knowing him to
be a valuable animal; but that sagacious quadruped had evidently had
quite enough to do with Lish, for, when the man approached, he turned
his heels toward him, laid back his ears, and seemed so anxious to get a
kick at him that the robber dared not go near him.
So he was obliged to content himself with the guide’s pony, which
offered no resistance as Lish caught him by the foretop and led him
toward the cabin.
After slipping a bridle over his head and placing his plunder upon his
back, the wolfer took a last look at the gorge and led the pony up the
valley out of sight, the mule following quietly at his heels.