WHAT HAPPENED ON HUMPHREY’S PEAK
Jack’s party drove to Humphrey’s Peak as had been planned, and there
they found that the automobile road leading part way up the mountain
was in splendid condition. Therefore they decided to try to reach
the peak, and get the marvelous view from the summit.
All went well while the good road continued, but once they got to
the place where it became necessary to leave the car and take to
horses, it was not quite comfortable. The guide thought they were
taking chances against the weather—it had been cloudy all morning
and the weather bureau had prophesied flurries of snow during the
day.
“A little snow won’t melt us hardened tourists!” exclaimed Eleanor,
laughingly.
“Not after one has lived through Flat Top blizzards,” added Polly,
springing into the saddle on the horse she was to ride.
“That’s all right, miss, but October is the latest month the guides
think safe for folks to try for the peak. If you-all insist upon
going up, I can take you, but it must be at your own risk,
remember,” explained the man.
“The weather has been unusually warm and open,” said Jack,
coaxingly, “and we are sure there is no risk to take.”
“The guide ought to know his territory better than we do, Jack,”
argued Mrs. Courtney, troubled at what would be best to do.
“Oh, come on, folks!” commanded Dodo, impatiently.
“Yes, do come on, or the day will pass in arguing,” abetted Jack,
jumping into the saddle.
“Well, if you-all will promise me not to go beyond the zone which I
think safe and will agree to turn and come back the moment I signify
the return, I’ll take you,” finally agreed the guide.
“Don’t you do it, if there is any unusual risk,” begged Mrs.
Courtney, anxiously.
“No, I won’t! If the young people will promise me that, it will be
perfectly safe,” returned the man.
Being so eager to start for the climb, the four younger members of
the group promised instantly. And off they started.
The altitude of Humphrey’s Peak is 12,750 feet, and the approach to
the summit is made over a gradually ascending road and trail made
through mighty forests of pine. Aspens grow in thick profusion here
and there—so thick, indeed, that one could not thread a way between
the trunks without chopping away the obstruction. Reaching timber
line, however, nothing grows beyond to hide the bare crags which
continue on up to the very summit.
On the ride through the magnificent forest the guide told of the
extensive view to be had from the peak—directly north, fifty miles
away, one could see the walls of the Grand Canyon; still farther,
were the Buckskin Mountains of the Kaibab Plateau; to the north-east
one might see the Painted Desert, and beyond that the Navajo
Mountain. Then, turning southward, one could see the White
Mountains; and, gazing westward, one saw the Mogollon Plateau and
other famous ranges. The Santa Fé railroad threaded the valley east
and west like a winding serpent with head and tail hidden from
sight. Small towns and settlements dotted the country, and gave the
necessary action to the wonderful picture.
“But I doubt if you will see these sights to-day, friends,”
concluded the guide. “If you reach timberline without freezing in
the saddle, you will do well.”
“I’m sure you do not appreciate our hardihood,” declared Polly
impatiently. “I was brought up in the Rocky Mountains, near the
highest peaks, and I am accustomed to this life.”
“You forget, Polly, that several years in New York City, in
steam-heated houses, and the enervating life we live there, may have
changed your hardihood,” remarked Mrs. Courtney, gently.
“Oh, well! that remains to be seen,” retorted Polly.
Nothing more was said about the hazards to be met on the way, and
thereafter every one felt buoyant and happy, because of the delight
in riding good horses and the exhilarating air of the mountains.
Up and up and up climbed the well-trained horses, and finally the
guide called a halt to rest the beasts. The riders leaped from the
saddles and stretched their legs and arms for a time, then walked
around to investigate the plateau. Only a few minutes were allowed
for the rest, then the guide called them to re-mount. As they ran to
obey, Jack thought he saw a snowflake whirl across his vision. But
he would not report it.
By the time all were ready to resume the ride, Jack was sure he saw
another flake of snow falling slowly upon the horn of his saddle,
still he would not speak of it.
But the guide had noticed the few scattered bits of snow, and he was
determined to take no chances with his party. He led the way to a
crosstrail on the mountain-side, and took the side trail instead of
the one which ascended directly ahead of the riders. He planned to
follow this gradually ascending road for a time, and, should the
flurry of snow prove nothing more, he could regain the main trail
farther on where another crosstrail struck upward. In case the snow
came down heavier, and threatened to continue, he could lead his
party back down the mountain from that crosstrail.
But a careful guide’s plans may go astray, even like the wise mice
in the fable, and so it happened with Job Barnes.
The pines were noticeably shorter and more slender as the trail
ascended higher and higher, and it was also seen that the trees
looked tougher and many of them bore scars left by the winter
storms. Many were twisted and their tops blunted from the fierce
gales and blizzards which swept like cyclones over the peaks. But
the trail continued good and interesting, and the little cavalcade
rode on with many a merry jest and carefree laugh.
Finally they entered a thick forest of aspens through which the
trail accommodated no more than one horse at a time. It was after
riding halfway through the length of this forest, that a sudden gale
of wind came down from the peaks, and with it came a great cloud of
snow. Instantly the air became choked with fine snow, and the
temperature dropped suddenly so that every one in the party began to
shiver and shake. The horses, rebelling against going on in the face
of this cold blizzard, balked, but they could not turn in the narrow
tunnel between the aspens.
Fortunately the guide rode first, and Jack brought up the rear, so
that the horses of the girls could not back nor forge ahead in order
to get away from where they were.
“What shall we do?” shouted Jack, to get orders from the guide.
“Wait for a few moments and see if she blows over.”
So they all sat as though frozen to the saddles, while the guide
tied a rope to the horn of his saddle and then jumped from his horse
and carried the rope back to tie a loop to each saddle in the line
behind his horse. When Jack’s horse, the last one, had been thus
hitched up in line, the guide advised him.
“Don’t let your horse balk or stampede. Use your spurs, if
necessary, to control him. We’re near a nasty bit of road that runs
along the rim of a rocky ravine, and I’d like to keep this side of
it if I can manage the animals so they will move slowly. I might
have to chop down enough aspens to allow the horses to turn, so we
can ride back the way we came, but chopping trees takes time, and I
brought but one axe.”
“Oh, we’ll be all right,” was Jack’s assurance. “Just go on
carefully, and warn us when we reach the gulch.”
Another ten minutes was given to a slow progress along the narrow
trail, and, then, the storm growing heavier, the guide decided to
dismount and begin to cut down enough aspens to permit a turn in the
trail. As he jumped down, however, his feet became entangled in some
way in the rope which he had tied to his saddle, and he fell. His
foot struck upon a slippery projection of rock, and, turning over,
down he crashed with a groan, bringing his heavy weight upon the
twisted member.
The full import of this accident did not filter into the brains of
the other riders for a second; then Jack saw the guide slump in a
heap and he knew the man had fainted in spite of his endeavors to
remain conscious.
“Great Scott! Barnes is knocked out! He must have hurt himself
seriously!” cried Jack, springing from his saddle.
Polly was so experienced in handling situations of this nature that
she quickly got down from her horse and hurried to the side of the
injured guide. Before Jack could lift Barnes’ head, Polly was beside
him and had placed a restraining hand upon his arm.
“Just make him as comfortable upon the ground as possible, Jack, and
then help me straighten out his leg. Perhaps it is not badly hurt,”
advised she.
Thus, while the other three riders waited anxiously, watching from
their horses, Jack and Polly helped the guide to a more natural
position, and Jack fumbled for a possible flask of whiskey in the
man’s pockets.
Polly began to unlace the leather legging and heavy mountaineer’s
boot, but her fingers were so stiff with cold that she could not
undo the wet laces. Jack had found a flask, and, pouring the cup-top
on the bottle full of brandy, tried to force some between the lips
of the man.
Not more than five minutes had passed since the guide had first
leaped from his saddle, but in that time the snow had fallen so
heavily that everything was covered with a white blanket. And the
gale increased in velocity so that it blew the snow in every
direction, and seemed to drive it under the riding clothes of the
stylishly clad tourists.
After a second attempt to get some brandy down the throat of the
guide, Jack succeeded and was repaid by seeing the eyelids twitch
and slowly lift. Then the man became conscious all at once, and sat
up, though he did not move his foot—it seemed limp.
“What a fix!” exclaimed Barnes, in disgust with himself. “A broken
bone, and out here in this blizzard!”
“That’s all right, Barnes—I’ll cut down the aspens for you, and
Polly, with the other girls, will drag them out of the way. The work
will keep us from freezing,” said Jack, cheerily.
“Don’t forget me,” called Mrs. Courtney, trying to act as cheery as
Jack.
“If you only knew how to manage it, you ought to throw the blankets
over the animals, or we may not have them fit to carry us back to
the cabins,” suggested the guide.
“We _do_ know how to do it,” replied Dodo. “I was brought up in
Colorado, and Polly knows enough about horses to break the worst
broncho. Jack, too, has been on the ranch. Just watch us.”
So saying, Dodo jumped from her saddle, and Eleanor managed to slide
out of hers. It took Mrs. Courtney longer to dismount, as she had
become so cold and stiff.
The three,—Jack, Polly and Dodo,—then began to remove the saddles
that they might pull off the blankets which were strapped under
them. This done, they started to rearrange the blankets in order to
cover the quaking horses.
“Jack, you better get busy chopping the aspens, because Dodo and I
can blanket the animals,” suggested Polly.
“Good! Hand me the axe from Barnes’ side,” returned Jack, turning to
the man who was trying to get upon one foot and assist the girls.
“You just sit still, Barnes—or you’ll have a compound fracture.
We’ll get this straightened out in a jiffy,” said Jack. Then he took
the axe and began to whack at the nearest aspen. It was one directly
ahead of Barnes’ horse, and Jack figured logically that cutting down
the few ahead of the horses would make it easier for them to turn,
because the leader could step in and go around the narrow turn he
proposed making. Then they would face the opposite direction from
the one in which they now stood.
Polly and Dodo had blanketed three horses, and all three girls were
engaged with the others, when Jack whacked a hard blow at the tree
he was felling. The axe struck sideways, and a long sharp chip flew
up and scuttled horizontally through the air. It struck the leading
horse directly between the eyes, and that poor beast, already
frightened by the blasts of howling wind which bore such cold sheets
of sleet and snow into his face and chest, leaped up on his hind
legs. In a second, he came pounding down again, and then started off
along the trail, pulling the other horses in his wake.
The three girls were so frightened at what had happened that they
were incapable of moving for a moment; consequently Eleanor was
thrown against an aspen with such force that she had the breath
knocked out of her. Polly had been half over the back of one horse,
in order to work a blanket down to the other side, and she was
carried along while clinging desperately to the mane of the beast
she was upon. Dodo was flat in a snow-drift.
[Illustration: POLLY WAS CARRIED ALONG CLINGING DESPERATELY TO THE
HORSE’S MANE.]
Mrs. Courtney had been attending to Barnes’ injured foot, and now
she sprang up and called aloud in sudden fear. “Polly!”
Jack left the axe where he had dropped it and started off hot-footed
to catch up with the escaping animals. The snow impeded the hoofs of
the leading horse, and he soon found that running away in the teeth
of a blizzard was not the fun it was in town, when he began to cut
capers for amusement to those around. He had not galloped more than
a hundred yards before he began to breathe hard. The high altitude
had a lot to do with this, too, but the beast knew nothing of
altitudes. In the length of a few more yards he was glad enough to
halt and try to catch his breath. This, naturally, stopped the other
horses that were being dragged willynilly at the heels of their
leader.
Jack ploughed through the broken snow as fast as he could lift his
feet out of the clinging drifts, and after a hard sprint he caught
up to the sweating animals. But now! how to turn them about? That
was another problem, and he gazed in despair at the closely standing
aspens which lined the sides of the trail.
Polly made a horn of her cupped hands and shouted at him. “Only one
thing to do, Jack, and that is—cut down the aspens over there,
instead of here. We’ll have to come and help you, and leave Mrs.
Courtney with the guide; we’ll pick them up after we get the horses
turned about.”
Jack signified he had understood, and then, holding fast to the
bridle of the leading animal, he waited until Polly brought the axe.
The other girls followed in Polly’s tracks, and, after a tiresome
hike, they all went to work to remove the obstructing aspens. Jack
now wielded the axe, with a zeal he had been unconscious of
possessing, and the three girls worked in breaking down the younger
growth of trees and throwing them back upon the trodden trail; since
they would not return that way, but would lead the horses about the
short turn they were making through the woods, it made little
difference.
No one stopped to eat, though all were half-famished and
half-frozen, as well. Mrs. Courtney tried to keep Barnes from being
chilled, by helping him hop around upon one leg, keeping the injured
one free from the ground. As Barnes was a heavy young man, and he
had to lean upon his companion for support, she was thoroughly tired
out by the time the horses were successfully led back through the
narrow cleft made in the aspens. In fact, so narrow was it that many
a tree-trunk scraped the sides of the horses as they were pulled and
pushed and urged to go along to gain the good, though narrow, trail
ahead.
This much was successfully accomplished at last, and the young
people, who had had to chop and break down the aspens in order to
get the horses turned about, heaved a sigh of gratitude when they
halted the animals beside the guide.
“Now, our next job will be to hoist Barnes into his saddle,”
remarked Jack.
“That is not a difficult thing to do, because I know how to help
myself under all unexpected circumstances,” was the cheery reply
from the guide. As he spoke, he hopped over to his horse’s side and
caught hold of the saddle. At that moment a ray of sun burst through
the black snow-clouds and glinted upon the winking eyes of the group
of surprised riders.
“Well! can you beat that for contrariness?” cried Polly, glancing
angrily up at the breaking storm-clouds.
“Just as we’ve finished our hard labor, to find the blizzard isn’t
going to blizz any more!” laughed Eleanor, whimsically.
“If the sun comes out eventually, what are we going to do—go on or
turn back?” asked Dodo.
“Oh, we can’t go on with Mr. Barnes in this condition. We must
return as quickly as possible and see that he has surgical
attention,” declared Mrs. Courtney.
“Well, it is a great disappointment, not to see the view we were led
to expect from the summit of the peak, but I am so tired out with
shoveling snow, and with removing trees from this forest, that I’m
just as well pleased if we get back to Flagstaff and can roll over
into a warm bed,” was Polly’s verdict.
“Reckon you’re right, Poll!” agreed Jack, as he sprang up into his
saddle.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in carefully riding back to the
cabins where the guides lived while the trails remained open. Here
the old mountaineer who did the cooking for the men during the
season, soon had steaming coffee, with bacon and eggs, ready to
serve.
The girls would not have believed how good greasy eggs fried in
bacon fat could taste, until that afternoon. Jack commented upon the
evident relish with which they ate whatever was placed before them.
“No wonder!” laughed Polly, seeking carefully for the last crumb of
black bread, “wood-cutters always come in after a hard day’s work,
with appetites like ravening wolves.”
“That’s us!” declared Dodo, ungrammatically. Then she smacked her
lips with relish over the coffee, while her companions laughed.
Poor Barnes had the worst of that ride, for the small bones of his
ankle had been fractured and he would have to keep it in splints for
a long time, if he would have it knit well and be as good as ever.
But this accident proved to be beneficial for future riders up
Humphrey Mountain, for the trail was ordered to be made wider and
kept open and clear to protect man and beast in the future.
That evening, at the hotel, Polly remarked to her friends: “One
place on the map that we won’t see this trip!”
“I’m not grieving,” laughed Jack. “I’ve seen all of that peak I ever
care to.”
“Um! I’m with Jack in that sentiment,” added Eleanor.
“‘Them’s all our sentiments, too!’” giggled Dodo.