ON THE OVERLAND TRAIL
It was the early morn of a week later when the "Corsair" sailed into
Skagway harbor. Exclamations of delight were heard from every person who
had not been there before. This beautiful spot is located at the mouth
of the Skagway River, with mountains rising on all sides, from which
countless cascades rush foaming and sparkling down to the sea, or drop
sheer from such heights that one is forced to catch his breath.
Skagway itself the Pony Rider Boys found gay with pretty cottages
climbing over the foot-hills; well-worn, flower-strewn paths leading to
the heights; the river's waters rippling over grassy flats; flower
gardens beyond the power of their vocabularies to describe. Added to
this, there was a sweetness in the air, which, as Stacy Brown expressed
it, "makes a fellow feel like sitting down and doing nothing for the
rest of his life."
There were many trips to be taken from the city, perhaps the most
historic in all that wild country. The boys journeyed out into the
interior on the famous White Pass railway, climbed Mount Dewey to Dewey
Lake, and took a look at the hunting grounds where mountain sheep were
to be had providing one were quick enough on the trigger to get the
little animals before they leaped away. The next morning they turned
their attention to the task of purchasing such of their outfit as they
had not yet procured.
Having been referred to a man who kept Alaskan ponies for sale, they
tramped out to the end of the long street on which the stores were
located. There, sure enough, was a large herd of them in a paddock in a
vacant lot. There were a good many vacant lots in Skagway. The boys
climbed the paddock fence and looked over the lot.
"Me for that black one over yonder," cried Chunky.
"Why the black one?" asked Ned. "I thought you liked the lighter colors,
the delicate tints?"
"I do when some other fellow has to groom the animals. For a
labor-saving color give me black every time. With a black horse I can
sleep half an hour longer than any fellow who has a white one and yet be
ready for breakfast as soon as he is."
"You're too lazy to change your mind," growled Ned Rector.
"You want the black one, you say?" questioned Tad.
"That's what I said."
"And you, Ned?"
"Oh, I don't care. I'll stand by your choice."
"So will I," spoke up Walter. "The Professor said you were to choose
something in his class for him to ride, too."
"Buy him a mule!" yelled Chunky.
"Yes, that reminds me. We shall have to take a couple of mules. I wonder
if we can get them here. There comes the owner of this herd. We'll talk
to him."
The owner of the ponies had been expecting the visit of the boys. He had
been told that they would require ponies and did not know that the Pony
Rider Boys had formed conclusions about them in advance.
Tad introduced himself and his companions.
"I've got just what you want, boys," nodded the owner. "Every one of
those fellows is kind and gentle and will stand without hitching."
"That isn't exactly what we are looking for. We are not particular about
their being girls' horses. We want stock that has the gimp in it," Tad
informed him.
"That's it, that's it. You've just hit it. Gimp! That's the word, and
there's another that fits--ginger! They're just full of ginger, every
one of them. There ain't any more lively nags in Alaska than these
fellows."
"They must have changed within the last minute, then," smiled the Pony
Rider Boy.
"How so?"
"Why, you were just telling us how gentle they are, then almost in the
same breath you try to convince us that they are regular whirlwinds.
However, we'll let that go. What I do want to know is what sort of
mountain ponies they are. If they turn out not to be good mountain
climbers you may look for some trouble when we get back here."
"Boys, every one of those nags has been brought up in this country. They
can follow a mountain trail like a deerhound, and that's straight. I
wouldn't sell you anything else."
"Oh, no, certainly not," answered Butler. "How much for the
light-colored one?"
"The buckskin?"
"Yes."
"Two hundred and fifty dollars."
"I beg pardon?" asked Tad politely.
"Two hundred and fifty."
"I think you misunderstood me, sir. I didn't want to buy the whole
herd."
"You wanted five ponies?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, there you are. The buckskin will cost you two-fifty and so will
the black. You can have any of the rest for two hundred and they're
cheap hosses at that."
"Lead them out."
"Then you'll take them at that?"
"I haven't said anything about taking them, yet. I said lead them out. I
want to look them over."
The owner smiled, but nodded to his hostler to rope and show the animals
to the young men. Tad examined a dozen head, out of which he got three
ponies, motioning to the hostler to tether them to one side where he
could look them over again.
"What's the matter with the others?" asked the man.
"Various things. Some are wind-broken, two have the distemper, and if
you don't watch out your whole herd will be getting it. I shall be
rather afraid to buy any stock of you on that account. How long have
they had the disease?"
"I didn't know they had it at all," stammered the owner.
"You had better watch them pretty carefully, then. How old is that
buckskin?"
"Just coming four."
"Did somebody tell you that, or did you learn it from your own
observation?" questioned Tad Butler sweetly.
"I reckon I know a hoss's age when I look at his mouth," answered the
man, but not quite with the same assurance that he had made his first
statements. This clear-eyed, quiet young man, he began to understand,
knew a little something about horses, or at least pretended to.
"Then, sir, you have neglected your horse education. The buckskin is
twelve years old," declared Butler firmly.
"Mebby I might have made a mistake in looking at his mouth when I got
him," answered the owner apologetically.
Suppressed grins might have been observed on the faces of the other
boys, who were still sitting on the paddock fence. They were leaving all
matters pertaining to the stock in Butler's hands, knowing full well
that Tad's judgment was better than theirs.
In turn the lad once more examined the horses he had chosen, then added
to them enough to make up their allotment.
"Stacy, you are quite sure you want the black?" he questioned.
The fat boy nodded.
"He has a slight ringbone," Tad informed him.
"All the better."
"Why do you say that? I never knew that a ringbone increased the value
of a horse."
"A horse that wears rings must be a pretty classy horse," replied the
fat boy. "Me for the horse with the jewelry. Put a pair of natty boots
on him and there you have an outfit that would make a Mexican part with
his spurs."
"Pshaw!" grunted Ned. "Very fancy, but not much good for real work."
"Stacy doesn't mean that," answered Tad with a tolerant smile.
"Yes, I do mean it."
"We need a pack mule," said Butler, turning to the owner. "Can you tell
us where we may get one or two?"
"Why, I've got just the critters you want. They're in the yard just back
of the stables. Say, Jim, drive out the mules."
There were five mules in the pack driven out for their examination.
These started slowly moving about in a circle with heads well down,
trailing each other as if following a regular routine.
"Fine young stock, hardy and true and quick," said the owner, rubbing
his palms together.
"We don't want any quick one. We've had some experience with the quick
kind," declared Stacy Brown. "They were so quick I couldn't get out of
the way of their heels. No, siree, no quick mules for mine."
"I don't think you need worry much about these," smiled Tad. "How much
do you ask for those fellows?"
"How many?"
"Two. I to take my pick."
"A hundred apiece."
"I wouldn't give that for the lot of them," scoffed Chunky.
"Keep still. You aren't making this bargain," rebuked Ned, giving the
fat boy a poke in the ribs.
Tad made a brief calculation on a slip of paper, then he looked up
severely.
"Five ponies at seventy-five dollars would amount to three hundred and
seventy-five dollars. Two mules at forty each would be eighty more,
making a total of four hundred and fifty-five dollars," said Butler.
"I'll tell you what I will do. I will give you an even four hundred for
the five ponies I have picked out and the two mules that I shall
choose."
"Outrageous!" exploded the owner. "Why, those mules are worth half of
the price you offer for the whole outfit."
"Nonsense! Those mules have been used on crushers in the mines. Any one
could see that by watching them mill about in a circle--"
"Five hundred dollars," broke in the owner.
"Nothing doing, sir," answered Tad. "Four hundred even."
"I'll make it four-fifty-five and not a cent less."
"Come along, fellows. I know where we can get a better lot for the
money, anyway," declared Tad with a note of finality in his tone.
"Don't I get my skate?" wailed Chunky.
"Not at the price he asks. Never mind, I'll find you something better
for the money." Tad had already started away. His companions got slowly
down from the fence and followed, while the owner of the stock stood
mopping his forehead.
"Here, take 'em!" he cried. "I might as well give them away, I suppose.
I need the money, but you're getting them for nothing."
"You are wrong. As it is we are paying you a hundred dollars more than
the outfit is worth. Here is your money. Give me a receipt in full. We
will get the stock out some time this afternoon."
"You're the hardest driver of a bargain I ever come up with," protested
the man.
"You know you don't mean that. If we hadn't known something about horses
you know you would have done us to a turn," answered Tad, laughing.
"Yes, I do believe in driving a bargain, but I wouldn't ask a man to
sell me a thing at a lower price than it was worth. Just keep these
animals cut out if you will, unless you want to go to the bother of
cutting them out again."
"I got my skate," grinned Chunky as they were walking back towards the
hotel where they were to meet the Professor. The latter had given Butler
the money for the stock earlier in the day, knowing full well that Tad
could make a much better bargain than could he. Tad had made a fair
bargain. He had obtained a good lot of stock and he planned,
furthermore, to sell the animals after finishing their journey, which
would reduce the cost at least to a nominal sum.
The rest of the day was devoted to gathering supplies and packing. The
boys had brought their saddles, bridles and other equipment of this
nature with them, including tents and lighter camp equipment. In the
meantime they had looked about for a guide, but without success. They
were told that no doubt they would be able to find a man for their
purpose upon their arrival at Yakutat, a hundred miles further on. The
trail to that place, their informant told them, was a post trail which
they would find no difficulty in following. The post rider would not be
going through for another three days, and at any rate he undoubtedly
would travel faster than they cared to do. It was decided, therefore,
that they should start out without a guide on the morrow and make their
way to Yakutat as best they might.
The start was made in the early morning, the great mountains and the
waters beneath it bathed in wondrous tints such as one finds nowhere
outside of these far northern regions. The boys were light-hearted,
happy, and were looking forward eagerly to experiences in the wilds of
Alaska that should wholly satisfy their longings for activity and
adventure.