TAD DISCOVERS SOMETHING
"I don't see our friends," said Ned, an hour later.
"They're not in their camp," answered Tad. "We passed that an hour ago.
They have no horses, so they're packing their outfits on their backs."
"Huh! That's one part of the gold-madness that I don't want," said
Chunky. "Do all gold diggers have to pack their outfits?"
"I guess few of them can afford to buy ponies," answered Butler. "Then,
too, the places they go to are usually beyond the reach of anything
except a wild animal. We are fortunate if we get through with our stock.
Even our own ponies that we left at home would never be able to make
this rough trail. What's that, Anvik?"
The guide was pointing to a waving ribbon of white that appeared to
reach from point to point on the rocks high above them and some distance
ahead.
"What is it?" demanded the boy.
"Him goat."
"Mountain goats? Look, boys!" cried Tad.
Stacy threw up his rifle and took a shot. Of course he missed. A leaping
mountain goat is not an easy mark even for the best shot, and the fat
boy, while shooting very well, could hardly be called an expert.
"Those are the animals from which the beautiful blankets are made," the
Professor informed them. "Do you know how the Indians get the wool?"
"They pull it out by the roots, I guess," suggested Stacy.
"Hardly," laughed Ned.
"Spring is the shedding time. The goats, in leaping from place to place,
leave tufts of wool clinging to rocks and bushes, and this the lazy
Indians gather for their blankets, rather than take the trouble to hunt
the goats."
"Squaw him get wool," spoke up Anvik.
"Worse yet," laughed Butler. "You are the laziest folks on earth."
"Squaw work, him no talk lies. Him mouth keep shut."
The boys laughed at this crude reasoning of the Indian.
"Did they teach you at the Mission to make your squaws work?" asked Tad
Butler.
Anvik shook his head slowly. He did not answer in words, but hastened
his pony's pace by his heavy pull at the halter.
All that day the boys kept a lookout for smoke, but in vain. After they
had made camp that night the Professor said:
"There are indications here of unusual formations. If you have no
objections I should like to remain here for a day, perhaps two, and do
research work."
"Right, Professor," replied Tad. "The ponies will be better for a rest,
and maybe we can do some hunting. How about it, Anvik?"
"Anvik not care," was the guide's reply.
After breakfast the next morning the Professor set off at once.
"Now, fellows," said Tad, "I propose that Stacy and I follow that ravine
to the left and Ned and Walter go to the right. From the formation I
should say that some time late in the day we ought to meet. It's wild in
those passes, and we should get game."
After arranging that three quick shots should announce the finding of
game and that the distress signal of one shot, a pause, then two quick
shots should be a call for help, the boys set off, each carrying
biscuit, a drinking cup, and matches, besides their rifles.
The boys tramped all morning without sighting game.
After a short rest the two boys went on again, bearing more to the left.
As they trudged on the sound of rushing water was borne to their ears.
Then they came out on a broad stream, a torrent that came from the top
of three lofty, ice-covered mountains.
"Let's work up toward that pass," suggested Tad, wishing to see the
gulch from which the stream was flowing.
They had worked their way upstream for half a mile when Chunky yelled:
"Look there! What's that?"
Tad saw a hideous head projecting above the bushes. At first he was
startled, then he laughed.
"That's a totem pole, Chunky. They're put up usually in behalf of the
Indian dead to drive the spirits away. Let's go and look at it."
The totem pole was standing at the entrance of a second narrow gulch.
Sand and shale rock were heaped up at the entrance.
"A stream flowed through here at one time, Stacy. I imagine that it was
the same body of water we've just been looking at."
"Yeh," said Stacy absently. "Say, Tad, let's see who can first hit that
evil-looking thing with a stone."
Tad laughed and stooped to pick up a stone. As he did so, he noticed an
arrow cut into the rock at one side of the gulch, the point of the arrow
aimed up the gulch.
"That's queer," muttered the boy. "I suppose it's an Indian sign. This
is a place of many mysteries." He stooped to pick up the rusty-looking
stone that had caught his glance. It was worn full of holes as if by the
action of water and when he took it in his hand its heaviness aroused
his curiosity. Opening his knife, he dug into the stone.
Tad's face flushed a vivid red, and he uttered a sharp exclamation.
"What is it?" demanded Stacy.
"Nothing much. Maybe I've made a discovery. Don't let's idle here. Let's
go on and see if we can't get our bear. This seems to be our lucky day,"
said the boy, pocketing the stone and once more shouldering his rifle.
"Come, mush, as Anvik would say."