CHAPTER III

ON THE ROAD TO WONDERLAND

“Remember that stop, Summit Junction,” cried Miss Briggs. “We stayed

there so long that I peeked out of the window wondering if it was

another hold-up, but there was nothing to see.”

“What could have happened to the poor little animals?” wondered Nora

Wingate.

“Happened!” roared Hippy Wingate, limping back to camp with a stone

bruise on each foot. “Somebody stole the whole outfit, that’s what

happened. Dear friends, make up your minds to kiss your ponies good-bye.

The chances are that you never will see them again,” he added, nodding

at Miss Dean.

“Thank you. I do not kiss horses, but I wish I could get near enough to

mine to do so if I wished,” replied Emma.

“The question is, what are we to do now?” reminded Grace.

“This being my party I will furnish new mounts if I can find them,”

announced Hippy. “I’ll tell you what. Tom, you and Stacy go with me and

we will get a ‘rig’ and drive out to the stock farm that you and Grace

found out about. If we can get animals there that are worthwhile I’ll

buy them and we should be ready to start for the Park early to-morrow

morning. All agreed?”

“Yes!” cried the girls.

“While we are absent, find out all you can about the route to the Park,

you stay-at-homes,” directed Tom.

Tom Gray started a fire, and by the time the men had finished dressing,

the girls were busily engaged getting breakfast.

Breakfast was a hurried affair, for Tom and Hippy were eager to be off

in order that they might settle the question of mounts before the day

came to an end. An hour later, with Stacy Brown riding on behind, the

three started away in a buckboard for their drive into the country.

After breakfast, Grace and Elfreda went into town to make inquiries as

to their proposed journey. From a Park guard, whom they found at the

post office, the two girls learned that a government road led from

Cinnabar directly into the Park. He said that there was no possibility

of the party losing their way, and gave them information about what they

should do after reaching the Park.

Before leaving the post office Grace and Elfreda had a picture of the

route well in mind. The Park guard also informed them that they would

have no difficulty in picking up a guide once they reached the Park

itself.

“This seems to clear up every problem except the question of mounts,”

announced Grace. “I presume it would be wise to order provisions, to be

paid for and taken if our men folk succeed in getting ponies for us.”

After making provisional purchases they returned to camp, and there the

girls spent the rest of the day waiting rather impatiently for the

return of the horse-hunters, but it was not until supper time that the

three men returned. With them they brought a string of western ponies

and two pack horses. The animals were not sleek like their own mounts

but Tom and Hippy assured the girls that the animals were guaranteed,

and that, while they were not all that could be desired, still they were

a find.

“Pick your horses,” directed Lieutenant Wingate. “But don’t all choose

the same horse. If you do you will have to draw lots to settle the

difficulty.”

“I have a better plan,” spoke up Miss Briggs. “Number the animals, write

the numbers on slips of paper and place the papers in a hat; then we

will each draw a slip.”

“Good idea,” nodded Stacy Brown. “We don’t want any hair pulling in this

outfit.”

“Stacy!” rebuked Nora. “I am amazed at you.”

“You shouldn’t be,” interjected Emma.

The drawing took place at once, and for a wonder each girl got the pony

that pleased her. After supper the purchases made by Grace and Elfreda

were brought over to camp and packs were made up for an early start. The

Overland party were on their way shortly after sunrise on the following

morning. The ponies behaved well and the party was as well satisfied

with them as could be expected in the circumstances, and happy to be

once more in the saddle, and especially to be “on their own,” as Miss

Briggs expressed it, meaning that they were to be their own guides.

The ponies started at a brisk trot down the dusty road, a pace that the

pack animals stood up under very well, considering that they were

carrying heavy loads. As they progressed the Overlanders found

themselves enveloped in a great cloud of suffocating dust that brought

many coughs and sneezes.

“Gracious!” exclaimed Elfreda between coughs. “I never in all my life

swallowed so much dust as I have this morning.”

“And it isn’t what might be called ‘pay dust’ either,” chuckled

Lieutenant Wingate.

“Hear! Hear!” cried Emma. “Hippy has made a joke.”

“He only thinks he has,” chortled Stacy. “Why, I could make a better

joke than that with my hands tied behind me.”

“And a gag between your teeth,” flung back Hippy, who was riding ahead.

“You have expressed my sentiments exactly,” laughed Tom Gray.

“You have offered us an excellent suggestion,” piped Emma, then fell

into a severe fit of coughing. “What is needed here is a sprinkling

wagon,” she added chokingly.

“Yes. You have said it,” agreed Nora.

The road was now winding into a thick forest of slender scrubby pine.

The little trees, tall and straight, stood so close together that a

horse could hardly have been forced between them, and their foliage had

been turned to a dirty yellow by the dust from the government road that

had settled over it. The Overlanders, however, despite these unpleasant

features, were in good spirits, each one eagerly looking forward to

their journey through Nature’s Wonderland, which they were now entering.

The Riders swept into Gardiner Canyon at a slow jog, finding instant

relief from the dust, the road and river there winding between high

cliffs, the outer gateway to the Park itself.

A brief halt was made for luncheon, and late in the afternoon they came

out upon a spacious plateau where they decided to pitch their camp for

the night. According to the map of the Park that Tom had brought with

him they were now but a short distance from the Mammoth Hot Springs.

Camp was quickly made and a fire started, and the warmth of the fire,

and the hot dinner that was soon served, brought comfort and loosened

the tongues of the Overland Riders.

“Ahem!” began Hippy, as they finished the meal.

“Uncle Hip is going to make a speech,” groaned Stacy Brown.

“Unhappy moment,” murmured Emma.

“Ladies and gentlemen, do you know where you are?” he began

oratorically.

“In the Yellowstone National Park,” shouted Stacy, amid laughter.

“Or nearly so,” corrected the speaker. “Being here, it is well that you

should acquaint yourselves with the extent of the vast natural reserves

upon which we are about to enter.”

“Make it short and snappy,” urged J. Elfreda Briggs laughingly.

“It was in the year 1872 that the Congress of the United States passed

an act which set aside forever as a public park that section of the

country now known as the Yellowstone National Park. This great park is

rectangular in shape, sixty-two miles long from north to south, by

fifty-four miles wide.”

“Our city park at Chillicothe can beat that,” interjected Stacy.

“The Park has an area of 3,412 square miles,” continued Lieutenant

Wingate. “It has many lakes, nearly two hundred miles of improved roads,

and a chain of hotels. The Park is patrolled by United States cavalry.

The name of the Park is supposed to have been taken from the Indian name

of the river, Mi-tsi-a-da-zi, meaning, ‘Rock Yellow River.’”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the fat boy. “That sounds as if it had been named by a

baby.”

“Please do not interrupt the gentleman,” begged Emma gravely.

“The Park is located in northwestern Wyoming, with a narrow strip in

Montana and Idaho. It is open from June to September, I understand.”

“I believe there is much game in the Park,” suggested Nora. “Do you know

anything about that?”

“Oh, yes. My information on this vast Park is, I might say, wide.

Buffalo, elk and deer, with many bear, some antelopes, a few coyotes and

much small game, are to be found here,” Hippy informed them.

“Hooray! We’ll have a bear hunt,” shouted Stacy.

“Not here, you won’t,” answered Tom Gray severely.

“Why won’t we?” demanded the fat boy.

“This is a government preserve, young man, and hunting is forbidden

here,” replied Tom.

“Tom is right, Stacy, and you will please not forget that your Uncle Sam

is not to be trifled with. Follow the crowd and sit on your safety valve

until we get clear of the Park,” advised Lieutenant Wingate.

“Pshaw!” grunted the fat boy. “Somebody is always taking the joy out of

life. When do we see the geezers?”

“The what?” exclaimed the Overlanders in chorus.

“The geezers? The things that squirt up into the air?”

“Geezers! Geezers!” groaned Emma Dean. “This is too much.”

“You mean geysers, don’t you?” asked Grace after the laughter had

subsided.

“Yes. Something of that sort. Is that what they call them?”

“Certainly, Stacy. Geysers,” nodded Grace.

“I thought it was geezers.”

“Your early education has been sadly neglected, I fear,” averred Tom

Gray dryly.

“When I was a boy they didn’t have geysers. They were geezers,” muttered

Stacy.

“But they had spouters then as now,” chuckled Emma. “I—”

“Hark!” warned Grace, holding up a hand for silence. “I hear a horse

coming at a gallop.”

“Perhaps it is one of the troopers coming to see who and what we are,”

suggested Tom.

All heard the hoof beats from the direction of Cinnabar; then they saw a

rider come around the bend just beyond and slow down as he espied the

camp. Halting when he reached the camp, the stranger touched his

sombrero and bade the Overlanders a pleasant good-evening.

“Howdy, stranger,” greeted Hippy, walking out to the newcomer. “Get off

and have-a snack, won’t you? We have just finished our chow, but there

is enough left for you, I reckon.”

“Thankee. I had my supper at Cinnabar. Name’s Jim Badger. I’m one of

them guide fellers. Want a guide?”

“Get down and we will talk it over,” invited Hippy, and beckoned to his

companions who strolled over and were introduced by Lieutenant Wingate.

“This man says he is a guide and offers his services. What do you think

about it, folks?”

“Do you know the Park well?” questioned Tom.

“I reckon nobody knows it better.”

“How did you know that we were without a guide?” asked Grace.

“The folks back in Cinnabar told me when I rode in there this afternoon,

so I jest hustled down here to catch up with you.”

“What will you charge to guide us through the Park?” asked Hippy.

“All I can git.”

“What you get out of this outfit won’t make you round-shouldered to

carry,” Stacy informed the applicant.

“We ordinarily pay about twenty-five dollars a week,” said Tom.

“How long you folks goin’ to be here?”

“Perhaps a month,” replied Tom. “We wish to do the Park thoroughly.”

“I’ll take the job.”

“Not so fast, old man. We haven’t asked you to do so yet. In fact, we

had rather decided not to take on a guide, and that we would go it

alone,” Lieutenant Wingate made reply.

“You hired Jake Coville, didn’t you?”

“What do you say, folks?” questioned Lieutenant Wingate, ignoring

Badger’s remark, and turning to the Overlanders.

“I think we will leave the decision to you and Tom,” answered Grace,

glancing at her companions who nodded their assent.

“What do you say, Tom?”

“I agree, Hippy.”

“We will take you, Badger—take you on a week’s trial, if that suits

you,” announced Hippy.

“I reckon it’ll have to. Where you goin’?”

“You are the guide. That is for you to suggest,” spoke up Captain Gray.

“The usual, I suppose,” nodded Badger.

“No. Not the usual,” interjected Grace. “We wish to see what the

ordinary tourist doesn’t see.”

The new guide wrinkled his forehead in thought.

“How does the Mammoth Springs in the morning strike you folks, then the

geysers, and so on through?”

Tom Gray said that was in accordance with the plans already in mind.

“Got permits for the Park?” asked the guide.

“Not yet,” replied Hippy.

“Then you got to go to the office in the mornin’ and git them. You all

have to register, you know.”

They did not know of this regulation for campers, though supposing that

some sort of requirements were demanded of outfits such as theirs.

The party now sat down by the fire to discuss the Park and the features

that they wished to see. Badger sat hunched down before the blaze,

furtively studying his new charges. This, of course, he had a right to

do, and perhaps it was proper that he should. He, in turn, was closely

observed by the Overlanders themselves. Badger was a slight, wiry

fellow, keen-eyed and observant, as the Overlanders soon discovered, and

somehow the girls of the party were not thoroughly at their ease under

his observation. They were therefore somewhat relieved when Hippy took

the guide out to show him their equipment and give Badger a line on

their way of doing things. The guide quickly discovered that the

Overland Riders were fully as well-informed on camp life in the woods or

mountains as he himself was. Still, there were some features about these

seasoned young people that he had yet to learn.

The party chatted until late in the evening, then turned in with the

moon shining down on their little tents, happy to be once more close to

nature, and anticipating a peaceful night’s sleep in the open. A rude

awakening awaited them, however, and, as usual, Stacy Brown was to be

the moving cause of the disturbance.

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