BROUGHT TO BAY BY THE WOLF PACK
"WHAT does this mean, Dick?" Roger asked, some days later, when they
started to make a fire in the morning and found the air quite cold.
"Does winter come so early in this northwestern country?"
"Oh! no, it isn't that," replied the other; "but, since the wind has
whipped into the north during the night, and there's been a storm
somewhere, we're in for a cool spell. I hope frost is far from us,
because we have so much to do before that time. But a fire will feel
good, and I think we might take chances."
They had not seen any signs of Indians for some time now, but Dick
was too cautious a boy to relax his vigilance on this account.
Nevertheless, after the light of day had come, he believed they could
make a fire out of smokeless wood that was not apt to betray their
presence in the vicinity.
During this day they journeyed through dense timber, which was quite a
change from crossing the wide, level stretches of country lying along
so much of the upper reaches of the Missouri.
All the time they had to make sure of several things, especially the
presence of the river not far away; and then the important fact that
the exploring expedition sent out through the efforts of President
Jefferson was still ahead of them.
It would have been a sad joke on the boys had they managed in some
manner to outstrip the soldiers and voyageurs with Captains Lewis and
Clark, and in this way gone ahead of them.
To make positive that this was not the case they were compelled to keep
close to the river, looking for signs of an abandoned camping-place;
and when such was discovered they found means to read the telltale
evidence that denoted just how many days' journey in advance were those
they sought.
It was while they were jogging contentedly along during this particular
morning that Dick suddenly drew rein, and raised a hand with a movement
that his companion understood meant that he was to listen.
From some point ahead they caught peculiar sounds--a snapping and
crackling, accompanied by dull thuds that mystified Roger greatly.
"Why, what can that he, Dick?" he asked, turning a perplexed face
toward his companion, and at the same time fingering his always ready
gun.
"Let's move slowly forward, and find out for ourselves," was Dick's
suggestion, which appeared to please his cousin, since both at once
urged the horses ahead.
As they kept on the noise increased in volume; and accompanying the
other sounds they could now hear snortings, and what seemed to be the
snarls of beasts. Then came a plain yelp as of pain, followed by more
prancings, and another of those dull thuds, as of a heavy body striking
another, the impact causing the hollow sound.
"Seems like a fight," said Roger, in a cautious tone, not removing
his eyes from in front, where he now believed he could see the bushes
waving, as if various objects were in motion beyond.
"That's just what it must be," Dick agreed.
In another minute they had reached a point where they could look upon
one of the tragedies of the border, such as were in progress in season
and out, hundreds of years before Columbus ever sailed into the western
seas, to find a new route to the East Indies, and thereby discovered a
new continent instead.
A noble old stag was at bay, with a pack of hungry wolves trying their
best to drag him down. Already had he placed two of the gray beasts on
their backs, and several of the others seemed to have suffered from
contact with the sharp points of his antlers.
They had succeeded in running him down; perhaps a wound in one of his
legs had prevented the game old fellow from escaping as easily as he
might have done under ordinary conditions. The boys never knew how it
came about; but there the stag was, with lowered head, doing his best
to defend himself against his foes.
No doubt, had the combatants been left to fight it out in their own
way, the tenacious wolves would in the end have pulled the old stag
down, and made a meal off his carcase; for he seemed pretty well
exhausted by this time, and there were still half a dozen of the savage
brutes able to fight.
But Roger could not stand such a spectacle. He sympathized with the
gallant old buck, and, slipping from his horse, bow and arrow in hand,
crept forward, meaning to put in a few "licks," as he called them, in
favor of the animal that was outnumbered six to one.
Dick sat there, holding his rifle, and not wishing to waste any of his
precious ammunition unless it seemed necessary. He knew he could depend
on his comrade not to injure the brave buck, whose tough meat would
be of little use to them for food. And, after the way in which he had
fought the whole wolf pack, it seemed as though he deserved a better
fate than being shot down.
The boy with the Indian bow succeeded in creeping close enough to get a
good view of the performance. The actors in the forest tragedy were too
excited and intent on their business to notice anything else. Even the
usually wary pests of the timber were goaded to fury by this determined
resistance on the part of their intended prey, and seemed wild to bring
him down.
Roger never enjoyed anything more in his life than when he took a quick
aim, and sent a feathered arrow flying toward the nearest of the pack.
The beast went over in a heap, and Dick chuckled when he saw the end of
the arrow projecting from that gray side.
Working like a machine Roger fitted another missile to his how, and
again that fatal twang announced that the badgered stag had a new ally
close by; for a second wolf rolled over, howling dismally.
By that time the balance of the pack began to awaken to the fact that
there was something strange in the actions of their companions. Perhaps
they allowed themselves to ignore the wounded stag for a moment, and
sniff the air. At any rate, there was a sudden flight on the part of
the four animals still able to run; and the stag found himself master
of the field.
"Hurrah!" shouted Roger, unable to restrain his feeling of elation as
he stepped in sight, waving his foxskin cap in triumph.
"Take care," called out Dick, warningly, "or the stag may turn on you;
he doesn't know that you mean to be his friend; and it would be a shame
to have to kill him, after the handsome way he stood off that pack!"
But the animal, while half disposed to attack this newcomer, being
doubtless flushed with his apparent victory over the wolves, presently
deemed discretion the better part of valor; for, turning, he went off
at a limping pace.
"Good-by, and good luck!" called Roger after him, as he stepped forward
to knock one of the wounded wolves on the head with his hatchet, so as
to recover his two arrows.
Under ordinary circumstances the boys would gladly have halted to
remove the skins of the wolves that had fallen, where the antlers of
the stag had not ruined the pelts; but just now they could not think
of such a thing. Their horses had all they could safely carry, and it
would be the height of folly to think of increasing the load.
Although these lads had done considerable hunting during the last five
or six years this happened to be the first time they had ever been
given a chance to witness one of those forest battles which took place
so often. True, once they had found the skeletons of two deer in the
woods, and from the fact that their antlers were interlocked tightly,
so that they could not possibly be pulled apart, it was evident that in
a fight the bucks had become so attached to each other in this way that
they could not separate, and that consequently they had starved in the
midst of plenty, falling victims to their own passions.
On other occasions, when their journey led them through the vast
prairies, other matters engaged their attention. Of course they had
to make camp where night found them; and often it was far out on the
billowy sea of grass, where they built their small fire in a hole dug
in the ground, and spent the night in watchfulness and security.
But sometimes these nights were not as quiet and peaceful as they could
wish. Until recently neither of the boys had seen a cowardly coyote;
but often these scavengers of the plains seemed to scent the fresh meat
which the boys had with them; and, taking up positions a short distance
from the camp, they would make night hideous with their yelping.
After the boys had become accustomed to this discordant chorus they
minded it very little. Had it been wolves they would have kept
constantly on the alert lest the treacherous beasts pull down one of
the horses; but these thieving coyotes did not have the courage to
attempt such a bold deed, and could only hang around, watching for
a chance to steal something when no one was looking. They might be
called the sneak-thieves of the plains, while the gray wolf might
be likened to the dashing pirate--bold, aggressive, and sometimes
undaunted.
There was one night when these beggarly coyotes seemed to be more
persistent than ever. Roger remarked that they came in closer, and
several times he looked as though he would like nothing better than to
go out and try to "pot" a few by means of his ever-ready bow.
However, Dick thought the animals hardly worth noticing, since their
cowardly traits made them afraid to venture close enough to steal
anything.
Of course he raised no objections when his companion declared he meant
to set a trap, and teach at least one sneaking coyote a lesson. Roger
was a clever hand at all sorts of snares and liked nothing better than
laying one, whereby he might match his wits against those of a cunning
beast.
So, taking his hatchet, and some bits of wood which they had brought
along in case of need in cooking supper, he began pounding these down
into the soft ground. In this way he constructed what seemed to be an
avenue, about a foot broad, leading up to the place where he expected
to place the bait of his gun-trap.
Finally he fixed his rifle in such a manner that it aimed directly down
this enclosed section, and if it were discharged any creature between
the parallel lines of stakes would be very apt to get shot.
When the trap was set Roger chuckled, and seemed to take considerable
boyish pleasure in anticipating the surprise of the hairy thief, when,
upon creeping stealthily along the limited space, he snapped at the
tempting bait, only to have it apparently develop a sting, accompanied
by a crash like thunder.
Dick had watched all these preparations with amusement. He knew how
much pleasure the other took in managing these little surprises, for he
had often observed Roger spending time fixing a trap for a fox, or it
might be a bear. It had become what might be called a hobby with the
boy, and in such matters he had few equals among the lads of the St.
Louis settlement.
"Remember, and don't be frightened out of your skin if you hear a shot
some time to-night, Dick," was the warning the maker of the trap gave,
as he pronounced his work fit for business.
"I'll try not to," observed the other, then adding: "and I hope that if
it succeeds, as you expect, the sound won't bring any hostile Indians
down on us. But at sundown there was nothing in sight, and that was why
we dared to have our fire."
It was just half an hour later that the boys jumped as though they
had been shot, when the gun went off with a tremendous report. Dick
immediately burst out laughing.
"That's a joke on you, Roger, as sure as anything!" he exclaimed, when
he could speak; "telling me not to be alarmed when your trap worked,
and then nearly having a fit yourself. But let's look, and see if you
got your game."
There was no doubt about that, for a dead coyote was found in the
passageway between the stakes, looking for all the world like a thin,
half-starved dog. This was the first time either of the boys had seen
one of the animals close, and Roger was disgusted to think he had
wasted a charge of powder and a bullet on the miserable beast.
"That trap will do for once, but I'm done shooting such scurvy
things," he declared, as he dragged the game out a short distance, and
left it, in the hope that some of the other coyotes would dispose of it
before morning; which they certainly did, for they could soon be heard
snarling and quarreling as though there were too many guests at the
banquet.
After that, when the coyotes howled, and made things disagreeable,
Roger would take up his gun, fondle it for a minute, as temptation
whispered at his heart, and then with a shake of his head he would
place it once more on the ground as though he could not be coaxed to
come down to such poor shooting. And so long as the miserable brutes
kept clear of the camp, and did not annoy their horses, the chances
were that they would be left alone to continue their nightly serenade.