on. Tally broke a way through the jungle of bush and young timber, and
finally they all came out to the silent woods again.
They rode through twilight forests of gigantic red-spruce trees,
measuring from three to six feet in diameter and towering over a
hundred feet in height. The ground under these was carpeted with pine
needles, which lay, year after year, until no sound echoed from the
hoofbeats upon them.
Looking in any direction, the scouts could see only dense forests,
with not a crevice in their vaulted roofs of green where the sun might
filter through. These pines seemed to waft down virgin incense upon
the heads of the riders, who fully appreciated the still beauty of the
place, and the velvety corridors they went along.
Then the trail became steeper, and the trees grew smaller, allowing
great splashes of sunshine to bask here and there upon the passive
treetrunks, or to sprawl out upon the thick pine needles that covered
the ground.
After riding for several hours, the scouts left the pine forest
behind, and rode out upon a faint trail that ran through aspen brakes.
Now and then they came to parks where the trail lost itself, and every
one had to seek for it again.
A great deal of time was lost in each park they came to, over thus
finding the trail, as so many misleading ones were made in the thick
buffalo grass by wild animals that came to graze there. The only thing
Tally relied upon for the right way was by finding a blaze upon an old
tree nearby.
During the climb, the horses often came upon sudden precipitous
descents that had to be zigzagged down through loose stone and debris,
then up again on the other side. When the riders reached the highest
altitude of the Gore Range and looked about, they found themselves
among sheer cliffs, that obstructed any distant views.
"Feels like lunchtime to me," ventured Anne.
"I should think you'd say dinnertime--that's the way it feels to me,"
laughed Julie.
"I was afraid to say that, because I am always credited,--unjustly of
course,--with being the gourmand of the Troop," retorted Anne.
Tally now led along a trail that ran through a small park, that lay
between two towering cliffs which shut off all sight of anything on
either side of them. Along the bottom of this ravine-like park a clear
stream of water gurgled noisily.
"Shall we camp here for luncheon?" asked the Captain, seeing the sweet
green grass and cooling stream.
"Oh, no, Verny! Let's find some woods to stop in. It's not very
inviting to feel shut in so far down," returned Julie.
So they rode on, the horses picking their careful way over stones and
roots, and their riders having to pay strict attention to the trail.
The trail wound about upthrusts of rock, where other streams ran to
fall down the sides of the ravine, causing it to widen as it needed
more space to carry the added waters. And at last, the scouts could
see, in the distance, that the cliffs ahead ended and the stream also
passed from view.
"Where the cliffs end will be a dandy spot for camp. We shall be able
to sit and gaze over the park that most likely is to be found there,"
suggested Joan, eagerly.
"If you don't camp somewhere soon, you'll find me ended there!" sighed
Anne, comically.
Before they reached this "end" however, the Captain held up a hand for
silence, as she said, "That's a queer sound I hear!"
The others reined in their horses and listened. They then heard it,
also. Mr. Vernon said, "Sounds like thunder, I think."
"No, it sounds more like a stampede of cattle on a ranch. If you've
ever heard the hoofbeats of a herd of steer, you'd know that this is
like it," came from Mr. Gilroy.
Tally grinned at both men. "Him waterfall!"
"Waterfall! All that volume of sound?" asked Mr. Gilroy, skeptically.
"Him _big waterfall_," repeated Tally.
"Let's hurry to find it, then!" declared Julie, urging her horse
forward and gaining the corner of the cliff at the end of the ravine,
ahead of her companions.
The crags completely hid all that might be beyond them; but as the
riders went along, the volume of sound increased until the roaring of
water convinced every one that the Indian must be right in his
surmise. Then they passed around the obstructing crag, and sat
spellbound at the panorama spread out before them.
The first glimpse of this tremendous waterfall was that of tawny green
water bounding headlong over the precipice. Its dynamic vehemence had
cleft a fearful way through the crags on either side of it, and adown
its course one could see black hulks of rock that projected out from
the swirling flood. The roar and thunder of this tremendous stream
prevented any one from hearing other sounds.
The group of riders sat enthralled by the sight, then they next
permitted their eyes to wander beyond the immediate falls to the
magnificent view spread out in such space below and beyond. In the far
distance the snow-capped peaks lay, one behind the other, until they
were lost to sight in the drifting clouds on the horizon. But, as if
loath to merge so quickly with the clouds, here and there one or more
peaks would appear with their sharp points above the mist, and there
reflect the glory of the shining sun.
From the far horizon and its peaks, the eyes now dropped gradually
from one height to the next lower down, until they rested upon a
valley that lay fully fifteen hundred feet below the crags where the
scouts stood. The panorama was so vast in extent and so impressive in
its sense of infinitude, that the spectators scarcely drew their
breath.
The whole scene shimmered through the soft clouds that hung above the
waterfalls and made it look like the reflections in a soap-bubble,
with iridescent colors shining on the sphere. So ethereal appeared the
picture that it seemed as if a slight vibration would surely shatter
the bubble. This grand painting had existed here for centuries before
the coming of the scouts to admire it, and there it promised to remain
intact for centuries more after mortals should pass from the earth.
Here and there across this valley a ribbon of water wound a silent
course away out of sight. From the great falls a mighty river flowed
for miles until that, too, appeared like a silver ribbon, tying the
land fancifully in its loops.
The silence was broken at last by Anne. "Can we find a better place
for dinner than this grand cliff?"
The tension broke with a snap, and the others glared at the perplexed
scout. Finally Julie cried, scornfully, "Can you find anything in that
scene besides patches where food is grown?"
Good-natured Anne laughed, and shrugged her shoulders. "I think it is
as beautiful as the Great Spirit ever made, but unfortunately I am not
yet entirely spiritual. I find I must eat a bite now and then, to
enable me to enjoy these pictures."
Her excuse for the interruption made every one laugh, and Mrs. Vernon
then added, "I think Anne's suggestion very good,--to camp here and
have dinner."
"Let Hominy lead the horses back to the grassy ravine to graze, while
Tally cooks dinner," added Mr. Vernon.
So Omney rode back, leading the rest of the horses and the two
pack-mules. Tally soon had the dinner cooking, but there was no chance
of catching fish in that swift water, so they were satisfied that day
with pork and beans, bread and jam for dinner.
After descending the last rampart of the Gore Range, the scouts heard
Tally speak confidently of the locality they were in, but Mr. Gilroy
seemed to differ with the guide.
"Me think us mos' here," insisted the Indian.
"Maybe you're right! I was mistaken before, so I'll give in," laughed
Mr. Gilroy.
"What is it, Gilly?" asked some of the scouts.
"Tally says we are nearly at Steamboat Springs, and I say we are not.
Now we will see who is right!"
They had not gone much farther along the trail, however, before the
scouts discovered strawberries! Great luscious wild berries they were,
and growing profusely everywhere in the grass.
"I guess Tally was right," admitted Mr. Gilroy. "We're in the
wonderful strawberry belt that is so famous about Steamboat Springs."
Colorado strawberries are as famous, throughout the West, as the
Rockyford melons are in the East; so the scouts made the most of their
opportunity to eat the delicious berries while they were at the
Springs. They visited the plants where berries are packed and shipped,
and also visited a factory where jams were prepared.
This progressive little town, although so young, compared favorably
with the larger cities of the East. It was equipped with electric
light, telephones, paved streets, first-class public service, and
other modern welfare improvements.
The evening after the scouts had visited the packing-houses that
shipped strawberries to the markets, Mr. Gilroy sat studying a large
map. Julie kept silent for a long time (for her) and finally spoke.
"What's the map for? Any change in plans?"
"I was figuring out whether or not we might possibly have time to go
on a tangent trip, and take in Yellowstone Park, as long as we are so
near Wyoming," he returned.
"Oh, fine! Do let's do that, Verny!" cried several of the girls.
"But that means an extended trip, Mr. Gilroy, and I do not see how we
are going to finish all you have planned and still get back to Denver
in time to take these girls back to school in September," remonstrated
Mrs. Vernon.
An argument instantly followed, in which the scouts sided with Mr.
Gilroy, arguing that time was no consideration when such wonderful
sights as the geysers of the Yellowstone could be seen. Mrs. Vernon
was firm, however, in her protest that school came before all such
other considerations. Mr. Vernon also added his weighty decision by
saying that he had to be back in New York City the first week in
September, without fail.
"Then we will have to retrace our trail across the Rockies and travel
slowly southward on the west side of the mountains," was Mr. Gilroy's
reluctant rejoinder.
"Does that mean we can't go any farther than Steamboat Springs?" asked
Julie, querulously.
"We might go on to Craig, and visit Cedar Mountain from the peak of
which we can look over into Wyoming. That seems to be as near to it as
we will come this summer," laughed Mr. Gilroy.
Julie pouted, and the other scouts sat and waited for developments.
Mr. Vernon thought for a time, then turned to his friend with a
suggestion.
"You wanted to cross the Divide at Milner's Pass because of the scenic
beauty of the Fall River Road; now, why not cross it in going back to
the eastern slope of the Rockies, and thence turn south?"
"I had thought of doing that, but the point at issue now seems Wyoming
'to be or not to be?'"
"That was just settled, as far as Uncle and I are concerned," added
Mrs. Vernon, hastily. "It's 'not to be' because I swore solemnly that
these girls would be home before Labor Day if they were permitted to
take this trip. So home we go in time to begin school the first day of
the Fall term."
"Dear me! It looks as if Verny had the wire-pulling this time!" sighed
Joan, in such a tone that every one laughed.
"And of course where _she goes_, I have to follow!" said Ruth.
"Yes, sort of a 'Ruth and Naomi' proposition," retorted Julie.
This decision reached, without further resistance from the scouts,
they retired for the night with the plan agreed upon to leave
Steamboat Springs in the morning and start for the Park Range of the
Divide.
The packs had been well filled for the new venture in the mountains,
and having breakfasted royally early in the morning, the tourists
started out on the trail. The horses had had such a good rest and the
mules were so frisky again, that the line of riders made splendid time
from Steamboat Springs to the hills.
They had climbed up one mountain and down the other side, then the
next one, and then another, until Tally called a halt for something to
eat. It was long past noon, and the horses were hungry, too. They were
very near the summit of one of the lower ranges of mountains, and Mr.
Gilroy suggested that they go on to the top and there rest and eat.
"And look out for a stream of water which is palatable for use," added
Mr. Vernon.
As they rode to the summit of the mountain, the scouts conversed with
Mr. Gilroy on various matters. But the thing that seemed to impress
them most, was the fact that here they were back in the same
mountains, and yet every day added new scenes and delights to the
tour.
"It really doesn't seem as if we had ever been in one of these
mountains before, because every step brings out new wonders," remarked
Mrs. Vernon, as they all neared the top of the peak they had been
ascending.
The sound of falling water now attracted Tally's attention, and he
broke into the heavy undergrowth to locate the stream. This done, he
came back and reported that he had found a fine place for the dinner.
They all dismounted at the spot, and the two men started downstream to
fish, while the guides assigned various tasks to the different members
of the party. Then, when the scouts had finished their work and the
men were not yet back from fishing, they climbed to a crag of rock
whence they expected to have a fine view.
"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Ruth, the first to reach the top of
the crag.
"What a queer fog for a mountainside!" was Julie's reply.
The other scouts now crowded up to see what caused these remarks, and
as they gazed down upon a thick mantle of yellow, one of the girls
called to Mrs. Vernon. She hastily climbed up beside them and looked
as perplexed as her charges.
"Tally," called she, turning to beckon the Indian, "see if this is
smoke, will you?"
"Him smoke!" affirmed Tally, the moment he saw the blanket beneath
them.
"What! A fire in the forest?" cried several of the girls.
"Then we can't go through, can we?" asked Julie.
"Mebbe. Us wait and see," returned Tally. "But scout get camera ready
_dis_ time. Fine picksher pooty soon when an'mals run f'om fire."
"Verny, get the camera! Hurry up!" exclaimed the scouts, while Tally
returned to his cooking.
His indifference to the fire that enveloped the forest tended to allay
any fears they might have had. So they sat and watched the consuming
flames as they swept across the forest and everywhere destroyed the
fine timber. Unfortunately, the fire started at the base of the
mountain so it quickly spread upward; had it begun at the top it would
have burned itself out slowly for lack of fuel above where the draught
always blows it.
Joan now leaned forward, and cried, "Look, quick!"
The scouts turned to gaze in the direction she pointed, and saw a
number of beavers crossing a small park in order to reach a stream
that flowed through the clearing. Immediately after the colony of
beavers came a few deer, stopping now and then to turn and stare
wonderingly at the heat that caused them such discomfort.
Then, to the amazement of the scouts, a large bear followed upon the
heels of the deer, but he had no thought now of making a meal of
venison. He seemed anxious only to reach a place where smoke and fire
would not annoy him. Now and then the girls saw him stop, return a few
paces and sound a queer growl. Then they saw the cause of this action.
A fat little cub finally ran out from the thick blanket of smoke, and
hurried after its mother. When it came up to the old bear, it jumped
about gleefully, never dreaming of the danger they were fleeing from.
But the she-bear evidently thought this was no time for unseemly play,
and gave the cub a smart cuff over the ear. The little fellow rolled
over with the force of the slap, but then ran along beside his mother
in meek submission to authority.
Tally now joined them again on the crag, and when the scouts had told
of the bear, Ruth added, "But there are no birds escaping, Tally."
"Dem gone long go. Fire drive dem firs'."
"I'm glad of that, but just think of all the fledglings that _can't_
fly and escape," said Betty.
"Let's think of something pleasanter," retorted Julie.
"Yes, let's think of dinner that Tally says is waiting," added Anne,
laughingly.
As they sat down to dine, the scouts saw Omney sitting up on their
former post of observation. As they wanted to ride on as soon as
possible, one of the scouts asked why the guide didn't eat his dinner,
too.
"Him watch if fire jump. Him kin eat dere as here."
"The fire is burning the other way, Tally," said Julie.
"Mebbe him jump back, if wind change. So Omney watch."
"If it blows this way, what must we do?" asked the Captain.
"Ride back trail us come. An' ride fas', too."
But the fire kept on burning its way in the direction it began to go,
and after a long rest on the crags to permit the pall of smoke to be
blown away, the guides led the way down the slope. All the down-timber
had been burned to ash which was still hot in spots. So the horses
picked their way between these heaps. Every vestige of brush, all
vegetation, and living creatures were gone. Charred tree trunks showed
where the flames had licked up the bark to get at the pine branches
overhead, and there, high above the heads of the riders, the fire
still raged through the resinous tops.
"It's a Sodom and Gomorrah for desolation, isn't it?" said Julie.
In all the fire-swept district the scouts saw not one charred body of
animals that live in the woods. A coyote lay at the edge of the area,
dead from the blow of an animal with sharp claws, but that had
happened after the fire. Julie thought the bear probably did it
because the horrid little coyote tried to get a bite of fat little
cub.
"But see all the poor, poor trees," sighed Betty.
"Yes, these fires destroy more timber than all other forces put
together," returned Mr. Gilroy. "Because of the resinous matter in
pine or spruce, they burn quicker and make a hotter fire than other
trees. But fortunately for future forests, the flames never can reach
the roots and seedlings buried under ground, so these shortly sprout
up and start new timber.
"It is not often that a fire sweeps over the same area again for
centuries, unless some fool tenderfoot leaves a campfire burning, or
shakes the hot ashes from a pipe."
They all rode forward as quickly as possible, for night was coming on
apace, and every one was anxious to get out of the burnt district
before dark. So they pitched camp as soon as they got beyond the fire
line.
That night, flares like torches shot up from many of the standing
trees on the hillside, and they continued burning for several days
after the under fire had passed along. The light from these treetops
cast weird shadows upon the camp.
"I never want to see another forest-fire," declared Joan, as she
turned her face away from these flickering glares.
"None of us do, but as long as there _was_ a fire, we are glad to have
seen it," replied Julie.
"And I'm glad it was a _little_ one," added the Captain.
"You wouldn't say that was a little fire, would you?" asked several of
the scouts.
"Tally said it was not over a mile frontage, and that, he says, is a
small one. If we saw a fire that stretched for miles along a forest
ridge and kept on burning for days and days,--that, he claims, would be
a big fire!"
All through that night blood-curdling cries came from the devastated
district. The howls of panthers, growls of the bears, cries of
coyotes, and yelps of timber-wolves, kept the campers awake. In the
morning, Tally started early to seek the cause of such a clamor in the
night.
"Dat ole dead coyote! Him mak all dat trubble," laughed the guide,
upon his return to camp. "Dem starvin' an'mals all wand'da eat him, so
dey fight and fight, but ole grizzle fight bes' an' git him."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LOST IN THE BAD LANDS
The following day the guides led the way up and down the sides of
mountains, sometimes the trail running beside steep cliffs that rose
sheer above the tourists' heads, and again past ravines where rushing,
tumbling waters silenced all other sounds.
About noon of the third day after leaving Steamboat Springs, they
reached the steepest climb of that trip. As they were nearing the top
of the peak, Tally's horse suddenly fell over on its side and kicked
its heels wildly.
The guide managed to jump clear of the leather and wild kicks, but the
other riders sat speechless with fear at what was going to be the
result of this awful spectacle. Before any one had time to offer help,
however, the horse Mr. Gilroy rode did the same. The scouts
immediately started to dismount, for they feared what might happen if
their animals rolled and plunged as the first two were doing.
"Are they having fits?" asked Julie, anxiously.
"No, the unusually steep climb and the altitude affects horses this
way quite often," explained Mr. Gilroy.
"I wish they'd let the rider know before they flop that way," said
Joan, "then we might jump clear of their hoofs."
"If one had time to warn others of what was about to happen
unexpectedly, very few people would have accidents," laughed Mrs.
Vernon.
In a few minutes the horses got upon their feet, shook themselves
thoroughly, and then waited to proceed on the trail.
Another halfhour's climb and they all reached the top of the peak.
After leaving the timber-line, the riders found the scrub bushes grew
scraggier and shorter, and finally the top of the peak was left as
bare and craggy as any volcanic formation. From the top of one of
these crags, Tally peered across an expanse of what looked like a
rolling sea, but it was grey instead of blue-green.
When Mr. Gilroy saw this sea of sand, he quickly adjusted his glasses
and gazed silently for a long time.
"Well, Tally, what do you make it out to be?" asked he.
"Him Bad Land--but I not know him in our way," returned the guide,
apologetically.
"That's what I think about him--very bad land," chuckled Mr. Vernon,
shading his eyes with both hands and staring down at the desert.
"What does that mean, Uncle? Do we have to cross it?" asked Julie.
"Either cross it, or go back the way we climbed and try to go around
it--that means several days wasted on back-trailing."
"I can just discern the tiny thread of a trail that winds a way across
that desert to the other side. We can easily follow the track and do
it in one afternoon," said Mr. Gilroy.
"You don't think we shall be running any risks, do you?" ventured Mrs.
Vernon.
"None whatever. If we were down at the base of this peak, right now,
you would see how simple a thing it is to ride across the sand. The
only danger in these Colorado wastes is when a storm threatens. But
the sky is as clear as can be, and the day is too far spent now, for
the sun to start anything going."
"The only hazard we take in crossing the sand waste, is that darkness
may overtake us before we reach the other side, and that might cause
us to stray from the trail," suggested Mr. Vernon.
"With two good guides to lead us, we take no risk on that score,"
returned Mr. Gilroy.
"At least it will prove to be a novel trip--climbing mountains and
riding over a desert of sand all in the same day," said Julie, eagerly
willing to try the experience.
Luncheon was hastily disposed of, and Tally led them all down the
steep trail of the mountainside for several hours. Then they reached
the lodgepole pine, which is the only timber that can hold out against
desert storms in bad weather and in winter.
"Before we begin this desert ride, do let's look for some water,"
begged Ruth. "I'm thirsty as a sandpiper."
"Quite appropriate, too, as long as we are going to be closely
affiliated with the sand," giggled Joan.
Tally and the two men had gone on before, and had not heard Ruth's
request, or they might have spared the scouts a great deal of
unpleasantness. They had hoped to strike the trail they had seen
across the desert, so they rode in different directions to locate it,
and the captain and girls were left to amble slowly along until one or
all of the men returned for them.
So it happened that Ruth and Joan wandered about in search of
drinking-water, and shortly after they left the rest of the scouts,
Mrs. Vernon heard Ruth call.
"Come here! We've found a lovely little spring!"
The girls quickly followed in the newly broken trail that was plainly
seen, and reached the pool of water that was hidden by sagebushes and
low lava-rock formation.
"I was so thirsty I just flattened myself out on the sand and filled
up," laughed Ruth, sighing with repletion.
Every one, the Captain included, drank freely of the warm water, and
Julie made a remark that it tasted brackish for such an active spring.
"Maybe that is due to the sand and sun," ventured Joan.
"While we are here, let's give the horses a good drink," suggested
Anne.