THE SAFEST WAY OF "SHOOTING" A GRIZZLY.
Meanwhile, how fared the ambitious big-horn hunters?
They had started out, filled with a determination to accomplish
something, even if it took a couple of days. Indeed, the guide had
said to Thad before leaving that none of them need worry if the party
failed to show up at nightfall. The distances were so great, and the
mountain climbing of such a stupendous character, that they might have
to put in the better part of several days reaching the feeding grounds
of the animals, and getting the coveted chance for a shot or two.
When noon came it found them climbing steadily. They were entirely out
of sight of the valley where the camp lay, so that they could have no
knowledge of what was happening in that quarter. But so set were the
boys on what had taken them forth, that for the time being they felt
perfectly satisfied to quite forget other matters.
"Talk about your wild country," remarked Step Hen, when they all came
to a little stop to eat a "snack," and rest, so as to be ready for a
further climb; "this sure takes the cake for me. Why, that poor little
Blue Ridge country ain't in it. You could put it all in a pocket,
here, and it wouldn't be missed."
"Well," remarked Smithy, who was bearing up under the strain in a
manner that would have pleased the scoutmaster, could he have been
along to notice it; "you want to be exceedingly careful how you say
that before our hot-blooded Southern chum, Bob White, unless you're
ready to get into a war of words."
"Oh! excuse me," chuckled Step Hen, "I wouldn't be guilty of hurting
Bob's pride even a little bit. I know he thinks that Land of the Sky
country better than most other places. Well, it takes a lot of
different people to make a world, don't it, fellers?"
"That's right, it does," remarked Davy Jones, who had managed to snap
off several pictures as they came along; but was trying to save most
of his exposures for things that would count, live subjects, in fact.
"How much further do we have to climb, Toby?" asked Smithy, trying to
appear rather indifferent about it, though the others just knew he
must feel the strain more than any of them; because Smithy had never
been much of an athlete, and up to date had yet to play in his first
baseball game, strange to say.
"Wall, that depends on a good many things," the guide responded. "Fust
place, we don't know as yet jest whar the sheep might be feedin'. I'm
headin' for a place whar I seen 'em more'n a few times, when I was
prospectin' through this kentry."
"Oh! so _you_ had a touch of the lost mine fever, too, did you?"
quickly remarked Smithy; for up to the present time Toby had never so
much as admitted this fact; but now he grinned and went on:
"Why, yes, I've taken my look, and had jest the same luck as all the
rest what thought they could pick it up. But about them big horns,
boys; if they don't happen to be whar I'm headin' fust, then we got
to go another two hours. But chances are, we'll find a flock in one of
them places, an' git a shot afore nightfall sets in."
With this comforting thought, then, the little party once more started
out, after an hour's rest and refreshment. Smithy was doubtless
feeling considerably better. He never complained, even while he limped
sadly at times; and once came near losing his grip, when swinging
across a bad place in the trail; so that he might even have fallen,
only that the ready guide threw an arm around him, having been keeping
conveniently near.
Smithy was proving one thing, at least; he might never turn out to be
much of a hunter; but he surely possessed his father's spirit, when it
came to game qualities. And when he went back home, all the maiden
aunts in creation would never be able to bring that boy back again to
the docile habits that had marked him heretofore, thanks to woman
training. Smithy had had a taste of real outdoors, and would never be
satisfied again to live in that old "sissy" rut.
It was about an hour after the stop that, without warning, the little
party suddenly came upon a monstrous grizzly bear, slowly making his
way diagonally across the track they were following.
At sight of them the animal reared up on his hind quarters, and seemed
to be trying to make up his mind whether he ought to attack these
queer two-legged creatures, or go on about his own business.
Step Hen half raised his gun to his shoulder; but instantly the guide
clapped a hand over the lock. There were no convenient trees in which
they could take shelter from an enraged grizzly; and Toby Smathers
knew too much about these animals to have any wish to find one rushing
at them, wild with rage from a wound.
"Snap--click!"
"Got him that time!" said a delighted voice.
Of course it was Davy Jones. He had swung that kodak of his around,
calmly focussed on the grizzly as the animal reared himself up to a
terrible height, and then pressed the button.
And perhaps after all that was the safest kind of "shooting," when it
came to a matter of grizzly bears. Even one of this ferocious species
would hardly offer any serious objections to having his likeness
preserved, for future generations to gaze upon.
"Keep still, all on you!" warned the guide, who was holding his own
rifle in readiness for instant use, should the bear conclude to charge
them. "We ain't lost any Mountain Charleys to-day, as I knows on. Big
horns is what we kim out after. Let him take hisself off, if he will,
and a good riddance too, I says."
Which the enormous beast finally concluded to do. Perhaps he had had
his dinner, and was not feeling in a particularly aggressive mood. No
matter what the cause, all of the boys heaved sighs of positive relief
when he shuffled away, looking back over his shoulder several times.
"Just like he wanted half an excuse for getting his mad up," explained
Step Hen. "He had a chip on his shoulder, all right. And I guess I'm
glad you didn't let me start in on him, Toby. I might a missed
knockin' him over for keeps; and then what a nice pickle we'd all been
in. Excuse me from tacklin' a moving mountain like that, when trees
are as scarce as hens' teeth."
"And I'm real glad, too, you didn't fire," admitted Smithy, who had
turned somewhat white during the minute of dreadful suspense, while he
stared at that monster squatted in their path. "I was ready to back
you up; but then what could you expect from a greenhorn? I never
wished so much that I'd taken to this sort of thing before, as I did
when that fearful beast was looking at me, just as if to say, 'you're
the tenderest of the lot, Smithy, and I think I'll choose you, if I
have room for any more inside me.'"
The other boys laughed at his words; but on the whole they thought
Smithy had carried himself rather creditably, all things considered.
And each knew, deep down in his secret soul, that his own heart had
seemed to stand still; while his blood ran cold, as he stood there,
awaiting the decision of the bear.
They glanced around rather fearfully for some little time after that;
but as nothing was seen again of the mountain terror, they finally
concluded that the incident was closed.
Again their thoughts went out toward the singular game they had come
after. Many an ambitious hunter had sought to shoot a big-horn sheep in
the Rockies, day after day, and was compelled to give it up in the end
as useless, so Toby had informed them. The conditions were generally
very difficult, and the game so shy. Besides, their sense of impending
danger seemed to be abnormally developed; and on account of the rocky
formation of the slopes where they found bunches of grass in the
crevices, it was often next to impossible to stalk them from leeward.
This being the case the tired boys were thrilled to the core when Toby
finally announced that he had had a glimpse of the game. Of course
they became wildly excited, and demanded that he show them. Creeping
carefully up to a certain outcropping rock, they peered around its
edge. And for the first time in their lives Davy, Step Hen and Smithy
found themselves looking upon the queer animals that seem to live in
the wildest parts of the Rockies, taking delight in bounding from
crag to crag, and baffling the skill of the most experienced chamois
hunters to get within gun-shot of their lofty eyries.
There were seven or eight of the sheep, and as they were really just
within gun range the boys could get a splendid view of them. They
admired the tremendous curved horns greatly, and Step Hen quivered
with eagerness to say that he had shot a Rocky Mountain sheep all by
himself; while Davy clicked his camera several times, so that he at
least might have a picture, in case they could get no nearer.
"I can't be sure of even hitting one from here," whispered Step Hen,
turning appealingly to the guide. "Ain't it possible to creep up
closer, Toby? Oh! please fix it for us, won't you?" just as though the
guide had it in his power to do anything they wanted.
But fortunately the lay of the mountain allowed Toby to arrange it;
and he soon mapped out a route that they might crawl along, keeping
well hidden from the feeding sheep, and getting gradually closer.
Besides, it happened that luck was working overtime in their favor;
because the animals happened to be feeding toward them. Now only two
or three could be seen, nibbling at the tufts of grass, or leaping
across some small fissure that tried to block them from other tempting
pastures; and then again the whole seven would be in sight at the
same moment.
After advancing slowly and carefully for some time Toby made motions
that they dare not go any further. He also let them know by signs
that, as the sheep were still coming in a line toward them, all they
had to do was to lie quiet, and wait until the right moment.
That was a period of great excitement to the scouts, two of them
clutching their guns in hands that would tremble in spite of them;
while the third was trying to find the best spot to hold his kodak,
with a view of snapping off a picture just before the critical second
came for shooting.
Step Hen and Smithy had even gone so far as to select which of the
seven sheep they hoped to get; and as they lay there, peeping out from
their rocky shelter, it can be taken for granted that each of them had
eyes for his particular quarry only.
And then finally Toby touched the shoulder of the kodak owner, as a
signal that he had better be getting to work.