AROUND THE CAMP FIRE.
It was a lovely night, with the moon looking almost as round as a big
yellow cart-wheel when it rose in the east, where the horizon lay low,
with the level plain and sky meeting.
Besides, it was not nearly as hot there on the plains as they had found
it back where the sands of the Mojave Desert shifted with the terrible
winds that seemed to come from the regions of everlasting fire, they
scorched so.
The scouts appeared to be enjoying themselves so much that even Jimmy,
usually the sleepy member of the party, gave no sign of wanting to
crawl under his brilliant and beloved Navajo blanket.
Near by the three pack animals were tethered, along with the calico
pony owned by Amos. They cropped the grass as though they could never
get enough of the same. Everything seemed so very peaceful that one
would find it difficult to imagine that there could come any change to
the scene.
Amos had joined the circle again, and once more the conversation had
become general. Ned asked numerous questions concerning the ranch which
they expected to visit, and in this way they learned in advance
considerable about the puncher gang, some of the peculiarities of
various members of the same, as well as the floating news of the region.
When Amos was asked about the hunting he gave glowing accounts of the
sport to be had by those willing to ride twenty miles or more to the
coulies of the foothills, where a panther or a grizzly bear might be
run across, and deer were to be stalked.
"How about wolves?" Jimmy wanted to know.
Jimmy always declared war on wolves. He had had some experiences with
the treacherous animals in the past, and could not forget. There was a
standing grudge between them, and every time Jimmy found a chance he
liked to knock over a gray prowler.
Amos shrugged his narrow shoulders as though he took very little stock
in such cowardly animals.
"Oh! the punchers they have a round-up for the critters every fall, an'
so you see they kind of keep 'em low in stock. Then besides, ever since
they took to payin' a bounty for wolf scalps, men go out to hunt for
the same when they ain't got nothin' else to do. They ain't aplenty
about this part of the country nowadays. I reckon as how that's why
Wolf Harkness took to raisin' the critters."
"What's that, raising wolves, do you mean, Amos? Sure you must be
kiddin'?" was the way Jimmy greeted this announcement.
"Not me, Jimmy; it's plain United States I'm giving you, sure I am,"
the other insisted.
"But there ain't no great call for wolf pelts, like there is for black
fox and 'coon, and otter, and skunks and that sort of thing. How d'ye
s'pose this Wolf Harkness makes it pay?"
"Oh! that's easy," replied Amos, carelessly. "You see, he kills off a
certain number of his stock once in so often and sells the skins. Then
later on they reckon that he collects the bounty for wolf scalps from
the State."
"But say, that looks kind of queer for any man to raise pests, and then
expect to make the State pay him so much for every one he kills," Jimmy
remarked, shaking his head as though he found it difficult to believe.
"Don't know how he manages," the boy continued. "Heard some say that
the law, it left a loophole for such practices, and that they couldn't
stop him. Others kind of think he sells the scalps to some hunter, who
collects for the same. But everybody just knows Harkness does get a
heap of cash out of his queer business."
"Ever been to his pen and seen his stock?" asked Jimmy.
"Yes, once I happened that way, but the smell drove me away. There must
have been thirty or more wolves in the stockade right then, and they
looked like they was pretty nigh starved, too. I dreamed that night
they broke loose and got me cornered in an empty cabin. I barred the
door, but they pushed underneath and clumb through the broken windows,
and everywhere I looked I saw red tongues and pale yellow eyes! Then I
woke up, and was scared near stiff, for there was a pair of eyes in the
dark right alongside me in the loft at home. But say, that turned out
to be only our old black cat."
All of them laughed with Amos, as though they could fully appreciate
the scare he must have received on that occasion.
The subject of the wolf farm seemed to have interested Jimmy intensely,
for he went on asking more questions concerning the raising of the
animals, what they were fed on, the price of wolf pelts, and a lot more
along the same lines until finally Harry turned to Ned and complained.
"Tell him to change the subject, won't you, Ned? He'll have the lot of
us dreaming we're beset by a horde of wolves. And you'd better make him
draw all the charges out of his gun to-night, because he's sure to sit
up and begin blazing away, to keep from being dragged off. Jimmy's got
a big imagination, you know, and every once in a while it runs away
with him."
"Tell me," announced Jimmy, rather indignantly, "who's got a better
right to be askin' questions about the habits of the animals than me,
who's a member of that same Wolf Patrol? How can you expect a feller to
give the right kind of a _howl_ when he wants to signal to his mates,
unless he finds out all these things."
"Oh! if that's the worst you are after, Jimmy, go ahead and find out,"
Jack was heard to say, condescendingly. "I thought you had a more
serious scheme in that head of yours than just accumulating knowledge."
Jimmy turned and looked at him suspiciously.
"And what did you think I had up me sleeve, if it's a fair question?"
he asked.
"Why, you see," began Jack, with a twinkle in his eye, "I was afraid
that you might want to invest what money you've got saved in starting a
wolf ranch of your own, or trying to buy this old man Harkness out. I
supposed that was why you wanted to know the exact value of wolf hides,
and what the State paid bounty on scalps. But I'm just as glad to find
that you're not bothering your head over the business part of the game.
Perhaps you'd like to meet up with this Harkness, thinking he might
give you a chance to shoot his collection of hungry wolves. That would
be a snap for a fellow who hates the beasts like you do, and has made a
vow to never let one get past him, when he had a gun handy or a stone
to heave."
Jimmy only grinned. He did not know whether Jack was joking or not, but
there seemed to be something complimentary in his way of talking; and
Jimmy was not at all averse to being known as a champion wolf killer.
"I only hope I get a chance to see this Harkness and his bunch of slick
critters before we quit this neck of the woods," he remarked. "But as I
ain't a butcher you needn't think that I'd ask him to let me cut down
his list with my new Marlin gun. Out in the open I'm death on the
sneakers every time; but it'd go against my grain to knock 'em over,
when they hadn't got any show for their money. I never could do the axe
business for a chicken at home, even when we were livin' in the
country."
"Oh! well, you must excuse me for speaking of such a thing, Jimmy,"
said Jack, with assumed gravity; "I was mistaken, that's all, in sizing
you up. Appearances are often deceitful, you know, and things don't
always turn out as they seem. Now, few people looking at you would ever
dream that they were gazing on a marvelous phenomenon. I guess you
caught that trick from association with Ned, here," and Jack might have
continued along that vein still further had he not been nudged sharply
by the scout master, and heard Ned mutter:
"Mum's the word, Jack. Don't tell all you know!"
This brought him to his senses, for he remembered that there was a
stranger present, and that it had been decided not to expose their full
hand to the gaze of Amos, at least for the present.
In this fashion the time passed.
All of the scouts were in a humor to vote that one of the most
delightful camps they had ever been in. Perhaps this partly arose from
the great contrast it afforded when compared with recent nights passed
under the most trying of conditions, when crossing the desert, and the
terrible valley lying to the east of it.
Amos had a blanket along with him. Apparently the lad was accustomed to
sleeping by himself on the open plain, and always went prepared. Things
were not as pleasant as they might be at his cabin home, frequently
enough; and besides this, he must be possessed of a wandering nature,
feeling perfectly satisfied to take care of himself, and capable of
doing it, too.
They were still lying around the dying fire, and each waiting for some
one else to take the lead in mentioning such a thing as going to sleep,
when Amos suddenly sat upright.
Ned noticed that he had his head cocked on one side, and appeared to be
in the attitude of listening for a repetition of some sound that may
have struck his acute hearing.
"There it comes again," Amos remarked. "You see, the wind has veered
around that way more or less; but say, twelve miles as the crow flies
is pretty hefty of a distance to hear that pack give tongue, seems to
me."
Ned had caught it that time.
"You must mean the wolves that Harkness keeps shut up in his pen for
breeding purposes, is that it, Amos?" he inquired.
"Nothing more nor less than that," came the reply.
"There, I caught it as plain as anything then!" acknowledged Jimmy,
with a vein of triumph and satisfaction in his voice, as though he did
not mean to be left at the post, when the whole bunch was running
swiftly.
"Whew! they do make a racket, when they're excited, for a fact!"
declared Jack.
"Is it the wolves you're talking about?" asked Harry.
"Don't you be hearing the noise beyond there?" Jimmy asked him. "P'raps
now, meat is so scarce that the old man's put his pets on half rations,
and the whoopin' we hear is meant for a protest."
"Well, what of that?" Jack wanted to know; "I guess you'd raise a
bigger howl than that, Jimmy, if we tried to put _you_ on half rations.
I can fancy how you'd be trying to lift the roof off, and they'd have
to call the fire company out to soak you with their hose so as to make
you stop. But don't get alarmed, Jimmy, because none of us have any
intention that way."
They sat there and listened for several minutes. No doubt, Jimmy was
endeavoring to picture in his mind what the den of trapped wolves must
look like; and at the same time, he was promising himself once more to
try and visit the Harkness place before leaving the country. He would
like to be able to say he had set eyes on so strange a thing as a wolf
ranch.
Harry began to yawn, and stretch tremendously.
"What ails you fellows; don't any of you expect to crawl into your
blankets and pick up a little sleep? Talking may be all very well, but
it doesn't rest you up any. Ned, why don't you tell Jimmy to sound
taps, all lights out so the rest of us can adjourn? As long as Jimmy's
afloat to do the grand talking act, it isn't any use trying to go to
sleep, because you just can't."
Jimmy seemed ready to take up that challenge, and entered upon an
argument calculated to prove that he was a mild mannered individual
alongside of some people he could mention, though not wanting to give
names. Ned, however, put his foot down.
"Harry's right this time, Jimmy, and you know it. So make up your mind
to simmer down, and keep the rest for another time. We'll find a soft
spot and see how well this ground lies. And we ought to make up some
for lost sleep to-night, with that soft breeze blowing, and the air
getting fresher right along."
At that plain invitation Jimmy began to make his blanket ready, for he
never liked seeing any one crawl in ahead of him any more than he did
to be the first one up in the morning.
Amos still sat there. Ned, looking at the boy, saw that there was a
little frown on his forehead, as though he did not exactly like
something or other.
"What's wrong, Amos?" he asked, quietly.
"The breeze, it is no stronger than before, you can see, Ned," the kid
puncher replied, as he held up his wet forefinger, after the fashion of
range riders and plainsmen in general.
"That's true enough," replied the scout master, always willing to pick
up points in woodcraft, for he did not pretend to know everything there
was going.
"But listen!" added Amos; "it is much louder now, you see."
Ned became intensely interested at once.
"You are right," he remarked, "the sound of that wolfish howling does
come three times as loud as in the start, and yet the wind couldn't be
the reason of that. Do you know what makes it, Amos?"
"I could give a guess, mebbe."
"As how?" continued Ned, while Jack and Jimmy and Harry all stopped
their preparations for fixing their blankets to suit their individual
wants, in order to hear what the kid puncher would say.
"When I was over there at the wolf ranch," Amos commenced, "I remember
now that I noticed the pen looked old and weak. I asked the hunter
about it, and he said it'd hold, he guessed; that wolves, they didn't
have the intelligence of hosses, or even cattle, so as to make a
combined rush at a weak place."
"Well?" Ned remarked, as Amos paused.
"It might be that somethin' happened to make that weak place in the big
pen give way, and the whole pack is loose, acomin' for the river,
hungry as all get-out, and ready to attack anything that walks on two
legs, because they are nearly starved!"
When Amos gave this as his opinion, the scouts who had been getting
their blankets ready for a quiet night's sleep seemed suddenly to lose
all interest in the proceedings. Instead Jimmy started reaching around
him for that new Marlin repeating rifle, which had already proven its
worth on several occasions.
"Whew!" they could hear him saying, almost breathlessly to himself;
"thirty hungry wolves, all at a pop, hey? That's what I call crowding
the mourners. I may be set on knockin' over an occasional critter when
I run across the same; but say, I ain't so greedy as all that. Think
I'm in the wholesale line, do you? Well, you've got another guess
acomin' to you, that's all!"