DARRY MAKES A DISCOVERY.
As pressed as they were for time, Darry and Joe begged that the bearskin
be saved, and did all they could toward helping the old scout skin the
beast. With the pelt they took along about twenty pounds of the juiciest
steaks.
"It's a pity to leave the rest to the wolves!" sighed Joe. "But it can't
be helped. What a feast they will have!"
"I'm going to sling the beast into a tree," replied old Benson. "That
may help save it until somebody else comes this way. The soldiers from
the fort use the trail yonder, you know."
Soon they were on the way to where Benson and Darry had left Joe's
horse. As Joe was tired from his night's adventure, his cousin and the
old scout took turns in carrying him behind them. Even then his eyes
would occasionally close.
"We can't make the fort to-night, that's certain," said the old scout.
"Not if we pushed on hard?" asked Darry.
"Joe can't push on as fast as that, Darry. He'll want to rest as soon as
sundown comes."
"Perhaps I can get a nap at noon, while you two get dinner ready,"
suggested Joe. "I wonder if we'll meet those rascals anywhere on the
road? I hope not, for they'd be certain to recognize me."
"We'll keep an eye open for 'em," responded Benson dryly. "And see to it
that your shooting-irons are ready for use."
"Why--do you think they'd attack us?" asked Darry quickly.
"They might--if they thought we were carrying anything of value. To such
desperadoes all are fish that swim near their net."
"It's a pity the government can't stamp such a gang out, Benson."
"The government has stamped out lots of 'em, lad. Why, ten years ago
none of these trails was safe. Nearly every horseman and stage-coach was
held up. To-day you don't hear of a hold-up once in six months."
"Is this Gilroy a very bad man?"
"He is--in a way. He's a well-educated fellow, so I've been told, and
not as brutal as some. But he's committed some robberies that have no
equal in the history of these parts. Once he painted himself as an
Indian and went to the agency, and there collected a lot of money which
was coming to the redskins, the agent taking him for Chief Snowbird of
the Modocs. The trick wasn't discovered until three days later, when the
real Snowbird turned up. Even then it wasn't known who did the trick."
"And how was Gilroy found out?"
"A fellow named Downes, who belonged to the gang, was captured, and he
gave the secret away. But it cost Downes his life, for he got away from
the soldiers, and while he was in the mountains some of his gang shot
and killed him."
At this story both Joe and Darry shuddered.
"What a lawless set!" muttered Joe. "One could hardly believe it unless
he saw it with his own eyes."
"In a rough country the men are bound to be more or less rough, lad.
Look at California, for instance. To-day it's as quiet and orderly as
Massachusetts or Illinois. But in the days of '49 it wasn't that way.
Many a miner was held up for his gold dust, and many a miner's secret of
a rich find was stolen from him and the miner himself murdered."
"And how long do you think it will take to make this territory perfectly
safe?"
"There aint no telling about that, but probably when you are as old as I
am now you'll be able to travel anywhere without fear of being stopped.
The railroads are a-coming in, towns are building up, and one of these
days the desperadoes and stage-coach robbers will all be a thing of the
past--and a good job done."
The third horse had been found, and now Joe was riding in his own
saddle. The rain of the night before had made the trail dustless, and
the air was as pure and sweet as one could wish.
By noon they calculated that they had covered ten miles of the worst
portion of the distance to the fort. The ride had been a strain to Joe,
and when old Benson called a halt he was glad enough to slip to the
ground and throw himself in the shade of a tree to rest. Darry and the
old scout lit a fire, and soon had a nice steak preparing for dinner.
"He's asleep," said Darry, a little later, pointing to Joe. "Poor
fellow! supposing we let him rest for a couple of hours? I haven't the
heart to wake him up."
"All right," answered Benson. The pair ate their dinner without arousing
Joe, and after it was over the scout sat down near at hand to smoke his
stumpy brier-root pipe, filling it with cut-plug which was as black as
coal, and puffing away with keen satisfaction.
Darry was more restless, and having put away the things used in
preparing the meal he began an inspection of the neighborhood.
"Be careful," said old Benson, as the youth moved around. "Don't get
into trouble, as Joe did."
"I'll keep my eyes open," replied Darry.
Opposite the trail was a tall spur of rocks with something of a series
of natural steps leading to the top. Up these steps went the youth. Some
of the climbing was difficult, but this he did not mind.
When the top was gained a magnificent panorama was spread out before
him. To one side were the tall mountains, hidden in a bluish mist, to
the other the vast forests and plains. Northward was the continuation of
the gap they were traveling, and southward was a series of foothills,
with here and there a stream or waterfall glinting brightly in the
sunshine.
"How grand!" he murmured. "What a vast country this is! Thousands upon
thousands of people could live here, and nobody be crowded. This would
make splendid pasture for cows and sheep, and yet there isn't a single
animal in sight."
Beyond the rocky spur was a similar elevation, and presently Darry
crossed to this. Here there was a lone pine with several low branches,
and he drew himself up and climbed to the top. He could now see much
further than formerly, and his view took in a portion of the trail
passed several hours before, as it wound, serpent-like, between the
foothills.
"Hullo!" he cried, as he caught sight of something moving on the trail.
"Three people on horseback. Can they be the desperadoes Joe met?"
He watched the riders with interest, and at last felt certain they were
three men fully armed and wearing slouch hats and light-colored coats.
This description tallied with that given by his cousin, and he hastened
down to acquaint old Benson with the news.
"Must be the gang," said the scout. "Are they moving this way?"
"Yes."
"Then we had better move on."
Joe was awakened, and leaped to his feet, looking rather bewildered.
"I--I thought I'd take a little nap," he stammered. "I suppose I've
slept a good while, haven't I?"
"About an hour and a half," answered his cousin. "Here's your dinner,"
and he passed it over. "We've got to move on. Those rascals are behind
us."
"Behind us!"
"Don't get scared," put in old Benson. "They are a good distance back.
Darry discovered 'em from yonder p'int. Eat what you want, and then it
will be time enough to start."
The repast was quickly disposed of by Joe, and soon they were in the
saddle once more. The long nap had refreshed the lad greatly, and he
said he would now be able to ride as far as anybody.
On they went, the trail growing more difficult as the top of the
mountain was gained. Here there was a stiff breeze that at times was
positively cold, and both boys were glad enough to button their jackets
tightly around them.
If all went well Benson calculated that they could reach Hank Leeson's
place with ease before dark. This was the cabin of an old hunter and
trapper who was known from one end of the Territory to the other. As
mentioned at the beginning of this tale, Leeson's place was twenty miles
from the fort.
"I could ride right through," said the old scout. "But you boys couldn't
do it. If you tried it, you'd be so sore and stiff the next day you
couldn't stand up."