An Animal Progression
The thin sheath of ice did not last long. On the second day the
sun came out and melted it in an hour. Then a warm wind blew and
in a few more hours the earth was dry. On the third day Albert
took his repeating rifle from the hooks on the wall and calmly
announced that he was going hunting.
"All right," said Dick; "and as I feel lazy I'll keep house until
you come back. Don't get chewed up by a grizzly bear."
Dick sat down in the doorway of the cabin and watched his brother
striding off down the valley, gun on shoulder, figure very erect.
Dick smiled; but it was a smile of pride, not derision.
"Good old Al! He'll do!" he murmured.
Albert followed the brook into the larger valley and then went
down by the side of the lake. Though a skillful shot, he was not
yet a good hunter, but he knew that one must make a beginning and
he wanted to learn through his own mistakes.
He had an idea that game could be found most easily in the forest
that ran down the mountain side to the lake, and he was thinking
most particularly just then of elk. He had become familiar with
the loud, whistling sound, and he listened for it now but did not
hear it.
He passed the spot at which Dick had killed the big cow elk and
continued northward among the trees that covered the slopes and
flat land between the mountain and the lake. This area broadened
as he proceeded, and, although the forest was leafless now, it
was so dense and there was such a large proportion of evergreens,
cedars, and pines that Albert could not see very far ahead. He
crossed several brooks pouring down from the peaks. All were in
flood, and once or twice it was all that he could do with a
flying leap to clear them, but he went on, undiscouraged, keeping
a sharp watch for that which he was hunting.
Albert did not know much about big game, but he remembered
hearing Dick say that elk and mule deer would be likely to come
into the valley for shelter at the approach of winter, and he was
hopeful that he might have the luck to encounter a whole herd of
the big elk. Then, indeed, he would prove that he was an equal
partner with Dick in the work as well as the reward. He wished
to give the proof at once.
He had not been so far up the north end of the valley before, and
he noticed that here was quite an expanse of flat country on
either side of the lake. But the mountains all around the valley
were so high that it seemed to Albert that deer and other wild
animals might find food as well as shelter throughout the
winter. Hence he was quite confident, despite his poor luck so
far, that he should find big game soon, and his hunting fever
increased. He had never shot anything bigger than a rabbit, but
Albert was an impressionable boy, and his imagination at once
leaped over the gulf from a rabbit to a grizzly bear.
He had the lake, an immense and beautiful blue mirror, on his
right and the mountains on his left, but the space between was
now nearly two miles in width, sown thickly in spots with pine
and cedar, ash and aspen, and in other places quite open. In the
latter the grass was green despite the lateness of the season,
and Albert surmised that good grazing could be found there all
through the winter, even under the snow. Game must be plentiful
there, too.
The way dropped down a little into a sheltered depression, and
Albert heard a grunt and a great puffing breath. A huge dark
animal that had been lying among some dwarf pines shuffled to its
feet and Albert's heart slipped right up into his throat. Here
was his grizzly, and he certainly was a monster! Every nerve in
Albert was tingling, and instinct bade him run. Will had a hard
time of it for a few moments, struggling with instinct, but will
conquered, and, standing his ground, Albert fired a bullet from
his repeater at the great dark mass.
The animal emitted his puffing roar again and rushed, head down,
but blindly. Then Albert saw that he had roused not a grizzly
bear but an enormous bull buffalo, a shaggy, fierce old fellow
who would not eat him, but who might gore or trample him to
death. His aspect was so terrible that will again came near
going down before instinct, but Albert did not run. Instead, he
leaped aside, and, as the buffalo rushed past, he fired another
bullet from his repeater into his body just back of the fore
legs.
The animal staggered, and Albert staggered, too, from excitement
and nervousness, but he remembered to take aim and fire again and
again with his heavy repeater. In his heat and haste he did not
hear a shout behind him, but he did see the great bull stagger,
then reel and fall on his side, after which he lay quite still.
Albert stood, rifle in hand, trembling and incredulous. Could it
be he who had slain the mightiest buffalo that ever trod the
earth? The bull seemed to his distended eyes and flushed brain
to weigh ten tons at least, and to dwarf the biggest elephant.
He raised his hand to his forehead and then sat down beside his
trophy, overcome with weakness.
"Well, now, you have done it, young one! I thought I'd get a
finger in this pie, but I came up too late! Say, young fellow,
what's your name? Is it Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett?"
It was Dick who had followed in an apparently casual manner. He
had rushed to his brother's rescue when he saw the bull charging,
but he had arrived too late--and he was glad of it; the triumph
was wholly Albert's.
Albert, recovering from his weakness, looked at Dick, looked at
the buffalo, and then looked back at Dick. All three looks were
as full of triumph, glory, and pride as any boy's look could be.
"He's as big as a mountain, isn't he, Dick?" he said.
"Well, not quite that," replied Dick gravely. "A good-sized hill
would be a better comparison."
The buffalo certainly was a monster, and the two boys examined
him critically. Dick was of the opinion that he belonged to the
species known as the wood bison, which is not numerous among the
mountains, but which is larger than the ordinary buffalo of the
plains. The divergence of type, however, is very slight.
"He must have been an outlaw," said Dick; "a vicious old bull
compelled to wander alone because of his bad manners. Still,
it's likely that he's not the only buffalo in our valley."
"Can we eat him?" asked Albert.
"That's a question. He's sure to be tough, but I remember how we
used to make steak tender at home by beating it before it was
cooked. We might serve a thousand pounds or two of this bull in
that manner. Besides, we want that robe."
The robe was magnificent, and both boys felt that it would prove
useful. Dick had gained some experience from his own buffalo
hunt on the plains, and they began work at once with their sharp
hunting knives. It was no light task to take the skin, and the
beast was so heavy that they could not get it entirely free until
they partly chopped up the body with an ax that Dick brought from
the cabin. Then it made a roll of great weight, but Dick spread
it on the roof of their home to cure. They also cut out great
sections of the buffalo, which they put in the same place for
drying and jerking.
While they were engaged at this task, Albert saw a pair of fiery
eyes regarding them from the undergrowth.
"See, Dick," he said, "what is that?"
Dick saw the eyes, the lean ugly body behind it, and he
shuddered. He knew. It was the timber wolf, largest and
fiercest of the species, brother to him whom he had seen prowling
about the ruined wagon train. The brute called up painful
memories, and, seizing his rifle, he fired at a spot midway
between the red eyes. The wolf uttered a howl, leaped high in
the air, and fell dead, lying without motion, stretched on his
side.
"I didn't like the way he looked at us," explained Dick.
A horrible growling and snapping came from the bushes presently.
"What's that?" asked Albert.
"It's only Mr. Timber Wolf's brethren eating up Mr. Timber Wolf,
now that he is no longer of any use to himself."
Albert shuddered, too.
It was nightfall when they took away the last of the buffalo for
which they cared, and as they departed they heard in the twilight
the patter of light feet.
"It's the timber wolves rushing for what we've left," said Dick.
"Those are big and fierce brutes, and you and I, Al, must never
go out without a rifle or a revolver. You can't tell what
they'll try, especially in the winter."
The entire roof of the cabin was covered the next day with the
buffalo robe and the drying meat, and birds of prey began to
hover above it. Albert constituted himself watchman, and, armed
with a long stick, took his place on the roof, where he spent the
day.
Dick shouldered one of the shotguns and went down to the lake.
There he shot several fine teal, and in one of the grassy glades
near it he roused up prairie hen. Being a fine shot, he secured
four of these, and returned to the cabin with his acceptable
spoil.
They had now such a great supply of stores and equipment that
their place was crowded and they scarcely had room for sleeping
on the floor.
"What we need," said Dick, "is an annex, a place that can be used
for a storehouse only, and this valley, which has been so kind to
us, ought to continue being kind and furnish it."
The valley did furnish the annex, and it was Albert who found
it. He discovered a little further up the cleft an enormous oak,
old and decayed. The tree was at lease seven feet through, and
the hollow itself was fully five feet in diameter, with a height
of perhaps fourteen feet. It was very rough inside with sharp
projections in every direction which had kept any large animal
from making his den there, but Albert knew at once that the
needed place had been found. Full of enthusiasm he ran for Dick,
who came instantly to see.
"Fine," said Dick approvingly. "We'll call it the 'Annex,' sure
enough, and we'll get to work right away with our axes."
They cut out all the splinters and other projections, smoothing
off the round walls and the floor, and they also extended the
hollow overhead somewhat.
"This is to be a two-story annex," said Dick. "We need lots of
room."
High up they ran small poles across, fixing them firmly in the
tree on either side, and lower down they planted many wooden pegs
and hooks on which they might hang various articles.
"Everything will keep dry in here," said Albert. "I would not
mind sleeping in the Annex, but when the door is closed there
won't be a particle of air."
It was the "door" that gave them the greatest trouble. The
opening by which they entered the hollow was about four feet high
and a foot and a half across, and both boys looked at it a long
time before they could see a way to solve the puzzle.
"That door has to be strong enough to keep everything out," said
Dick. "We mean to keep most of our meat supply in there, and
that, of course, will draw wild animals, little and big; it's the
big ones we've got to guard against."
After strenuous thinking, they smoothed off all the sides of the
opening in order that a flat surface might fit perfectly against
them. Then Dick cut down a small oak, and split out several
boards--not a difficult task for him, as he had often helped to
make boards in Illinois. The boards were laid together the width
of the opening and were held in place by cross pieces fastened
with wooden pegs. Among their stores were two augers and two
gimlets, and they were veritable godsends; they enabled the boys
to make use of pegs and to save the few nails that they had for
other and greater emergencies.
The door was made, and now came the task to "hang" it. "Hang"
was merely a metaphorical word, as they fitted it into place
instead. The wood all around the opening was about a foot thick,
and they cut it out somewhat after the fashion of the lintels of
a doorway. Then they fitted in the door, which rested securely
in its grooves, but they knew that the claws of a grizzly bear or
mountain lion might scratch it out, and they intended to make it
secure against any such mischance.
With the aid of hatchet and auger they put three wooden hooks on
either side of the doorway, exactly like those that defend the
door of a frontier cabin, and into these they dropped three stout
bars. It was true that the bars were on the outside, but no wild
animal would have the intelligence enough to pry up those three
bars and scratch the door out of place. Moreover, it could not
happen by accident. It took them three laborious days to make
and fit this door, but when the task was done they contemplated
it with just pride.
"I call that about the finest piece of carpenter's work ever done
in these mountains," said Albert in tones suffused with
satisfaction.
"Of course," said Dick. "Why shouldn't it be, when the best
carpenters in the world did the job?"
The two laughed, but their pride was real and no jest. It was
late in the afternoon when they finished this task, and on the
way to the cabin Albert suddenly turned white and reeled. Dick
caught him, but he remained faint for sometime. He had
overtasked himself, and when they reached the cabin Dick made
him lie down on the great buffalo robe while he cooked supper.
But, contrary to his former habit, Albert revived rapidly. The
color returned to his face and he sprang up presently, saying
that he was hungry enough to eat a whole elk. Dick felt a might
sense of relief. Albert in his zeal had merely overexerted
himself. It was not any relapse. "Here's the elk steak and you
can eat ten pounds of it if you want it," he said.
They began early the next morning to move supplies to the Annex.
High up in the hollow they hung great quantities of dried meat of
buffalo, elk, and mule deer. They also stored there several elk
and mule deer skins, two wolf skins, and other supplies that they
thought they would not need for a while. But in the main it was
what they called a smokehouse, as it was universally known in the
Mississippi Valley, their former home--that is, a place for
keeping meat cured or to be cured.
This task filled the entire day, and when the door was securely
fastened in place they returned to the cabin. After supper Dick
opened the window, from which they could see the Annex, as they
had cut away a quantity of the intervening bushes. Albert
meanwhile put out the last coals of the fire. Then he joined
Dick at the window. Both had an idea that they were going to see
something interesting.
The valley filled with darkness, but the moon came out, and,
growing used to the darkness, they could see the Annex fairly
well.
Dick wet his finger and held it up.
"The wind is blowing from the Annex toward us," he said.
"That's good," said Albert, nodding.
They watched for a long time, hearing only the dry rustling of
the light wind among the bare boughs, but at last Dick softly
pushed his shoulder against Albert's. Albert nodded again, with
comprehension. A small dark animal came into the open space
around the Annex. The boys had difficulty in tracing his
outlines at first, but once they had them fixed, they followed
his movements with ease. He advanced furtively, stopping at
intervals evidently both to listen and look. Some other of his
kind, or not of his kind, might be on the same quest and it was
his business to know.
"Is it a fox?" whispered Albert.
"I think not," replied Dick in the same tone. "It must be a
wolverine. He scents the good things in the Annex and he wants,
oh, how he wants, the taste of them!"
The little dark animal, after delicate maneuvering, came close up
to the tree, and they saw him push his nose against the
cold bark.
"I know just how he feels," whispered Albert with some sympathy.
"It's all there, but he must know the quest is hopeless."
The little animal went all around the tree nosing the cold bark,
and then stopped again at the side of the door.
"No use, sir," whispered Albert. "That door won't open just
because you're hungry."
The little animal suddenly cocked up his head and darted swiftly
away into the shadows. But another and somewhat larger beast
came creeping into the open, advancing with caution toward the
Annex.
"Aha!" whispered Dick. "Little fellow displaced by a bigger
one. That must be a wild cat."
The wild cat went through the same performance. He nosed
eagerly at the door, circled the tree two or three times, but
always came back to the place where that tempting, well-nigh
irresistible odor assailed him. The boys heard a low growl
and the scratching of sharp claws on the door.
"Now he's swearing and fighting," whispered Albert, "but it will
do him no good. Save your throat and your claws, old fellow."
"Look, he's gone!" whispered Dick.
The wild cat suddenly tucked his tail between his legs and fled
from the opening so swiftly that they could scarcely see him go.
"And here comes his successor," whispered Albert. "I suppose,
Dick, we might call this an arithmetical or geometrical
progression."
An enormous timber wolf stalked into the clear space. He bore no
resemblance to the mean, sneaking little coyote of the prairie.
As he stood upright his white teeth could be seen, and there was
the slaver of hunger on his lips. He, too, was restive,
watchful, and suspicious, but it did not seem to either Dick or
Albert that his movements betokened fear. There was strength in
his long, lean body, and ferocity in his little red eyes.
"What a hideous brute!" whispered Albert, shuddering.
"And as wicked as he is ugly," replied Dick. "I hate the sight
of these timber wolves. I don't wonder that the wild cat made
himself scarce so quickly."
"And he's surely hungry!" said Albert. "See how he stretches out
his head toward our Annex, as if he would devour everything
inside it!"
Albert was right. The big wolf was hungry, hungry through and
through, and the odor that came from the tree was exquisite and
permeating; it was a mingled odor of many things and everything
was good. He had never before known a tree to give forth such a
delightful aroma and he thrilled in every wolfish fiber as it
tickled his nostrils.
He approached the tree with all the caution of his cautious and
crafty race, and, as he laid his nose upon the bark, that mingled
aroma of many things good grew so keen and powerful that he
came as near as a big wolf can to fainting with delight. He
pushed at the places where the door fitted into the tree, but
nothing yielded. Those keen and powerful odors that penetrated
delightfully to every marrow of him were still there, but he
could not reach their source. A certain disappointment, a vague
fear of failure mingled with his anticipation, and as the
wolverine and the wild cat had done, he moved uneasily around the
tree, scratching at the bark, and now and then biting it with
teeth that were very long and cruel.
His troubled circuit brought him back to the door, where the
aroma was finest and strongest. There he tore at the lowest bar
with tooth and claw, but it did not move. He had the aroma and
nothing more, and no big, strong wolf can live on odors only.
The vague disappointment grew into a positive rage. He felt
instinctively that he could not reach the good things that the
wonderful tree held within itself, but he persisted. He bent his
back, uttered a growl of wrath just as a man swears, and fell to
again with tooth and claw.
"If I didn't know that door was so very strong, I'd be afraid
he'd get it," whispered Albert.
"Never fear," Dick whispered back with confidence.
The big wolf suddenly paused in his effort. Tooth and claw were
still, and he crouched hard against the tree, as if he would have
his body to blend with its shadow. A new odor had come to his
nostrils. It did not come from the tree. Nor was it pleasant.
Instead, it told him of something hostile and powerful. He was
big and strong himself, but this that came was bigger and
stronger. The growl that had risen in his throat stopped at his
teeth. A chill ran down his backbone and the hair upon it stood
up. The great wolf was afraid, and he knew he was afraid.
"Look!" whispered Albert in rising excitement. "The wolf, too,
is stealing away! He is scared by something!"
"And good cause he has to be scared," said Dick. "See what's
coming!"
A great tawny beast stood for a moment at the edge of the
clearing. He was crouched low against the ground, but his body
was long and powerful, with massive shoulders and fore arms. His
eyes were yellow in the moonlight, and they stared straight at
the Annex. The big wolf took one hasty frightened look and then
fled silently in the other direction. He knew now that the
treasures of the Annex were not for him.
"It's a cougar," whispered Dick, "and it must be the king of them
all. Did you ever see such a whopper?"
The cougar came farther into the clearing. He was of great size,
but he was a cat--a huge cat, but a cat, nevertheless--and like
a cat he acted. He dragged his body along the earth, and his
eyes, now yellow, now green, in the moonlight, were swung
suspiciously from side to side. He felt all that the wolf had
felt, but he was even more cunning and his approach was slower.
It was his habit to spring when close enough, but he saw nothing
to spring at except a tree trunk, and so he still crept forward
on noiseless pads.
"Now, what will Mr. Cougar do?" asked Albert.
"Just what the others have done," replied Dick. "He will scratch
and bite harder because he is bigger and stronger, but we've
fixed our Annex for just such attacks. It will keep him out."
Dick was right. The cougar or mountain lion behaved exactly as
the others had done. He tore at the door, then he circled the
tree two or three times, hunting in vain for an opening. Every
vein in him was swollen with rage, and the yellowish-green eyes
flared with anger.
"He'd be an ugly creature to meet just now," whispered Dick.
"He's so mad that I believe he'd attack an elephant."
"He's certainly in no good humor," replied Dick. "But look, Al!
See his tail drop between his legs! Now what under the moon is
about to happen?"
Albert, surcharged with interest and excitement, stared as Dick
was staring. The mighty cat seemed suddenly to crumple up. His
frame shrank, his head was drawn in, he sank lower to the earth,
as if he would burrow into it, but he uttered no sound whatever.
He was to both the boys a symbol of fear.
"What a change! What does it mean?" whispered Albert.
"It must mean," replied Dick, "that he, too, has a master and
that master is coming."
The cougar suddenly bunched himself up and there was a flash of
tawny fur as he shot through the air. A second leap and the
trees closed over his frightened figure. Albert believed that he
would not stop running for an hour.
Into the opening, mighty and fearless, shambled a monstrous
beast. He had a square head, a long, immense body, and the claws
of his great feet were hooked, many inches in length, and as
sharp and hard as if made of steel. The figure of the beast
stood for power and unbounded strength, and his movements
indicated overwhelming confidence. There was nothing for him to
fear. He had never seen any living creature that could do him
harm. It was a gigantic grizzly bear.
Albert, despite himself, as he looked at the terrible brute, felt
fear. It was there, unconfined, and a single blow of its paw
could sweep the strongest man out of existence.
"I'm glad I'm in this cabin and that this cabin is strong," he
whispered tremulously.
"So am I," said Dick, and his own whisper was a little shaky.
"It's one thing to see a grizzly in a cage, and another to see
him out here in the dark in these wild mountains. And that
fellow must weigh at least a thousand pounds."
King Bruin shambled boldly across the opening to the Annex. Why
should he be careful? There might be other animals among the
bushes and trees watching him, but they were weak, timid things,
and they would run from his shadow. In the wan moonlight, which
distorted and exaggerated, his huge bulk seemed to the two boys
to grow to twice its size. When he reached the tree he reared up
against it, growled in a manner that made the blood of the boys
run cold, and began to tear with teeth and claws of hooked
steel. The bark and splinters flew, and, for a moment, Dick was
fearful lest he should force the door to their treasure. But it
was only for a moment; not even a grizzly could break or tear his
way through such a thickness of oak.
"Nothing can displace him," whispered Albert. "He's the real
king."
"He's not the king," replied Dick, "and something can displace
him."
"What do you mean?" asked Albert with incredulity.
"No beast is king. It's man, and man is here. I'm going to have
a shot at that monster who is trying to rob us. We can reach him
from here with a bullet. You take aim, too, Al."
They opened the window a little wider, being careful to make no
noise, and aimed their rifles at the bear, who was still tearing
at the tree in his rage.
"Try to hit him in the heart, Al," whispered Dick, "and I'll try
to do the same. I'll count three in a whisper, and at the
'three' we'll fire together."
The hands of both boys as they leveled their weapons were
trembling, not with fear, but from sheer nervousness. The bear,
meanwhile, had taken no notice and was still striving to reach
the hidden treasures. Like the others, he had made the circuit
of the Annex more than once, but now he was reared up again at
the door, pulling at it with mighty tooth and claw. It seemed to
both as they looked down the barrels of their rifles and chose
the vulnerable spot that, monstrous and misshapen, he was
constantly growing in size, so powerful was the effect of the
moonlight and their imagination. But it was terrible fact to
them.
They could see him with great distinctness, and so silent was the
valley otherwise that they could hear the sound of his claws
ripping across the bark. He was like some gigantic survival of
another age. Dick waited until both his brother and himself grew
steadier.
"Now don't miss, Albert," he said.
He counted "One, two, three," slowly, and at the "three!" the
report of the two rifles came as one. They saw the great bear
drop down from the tree, they heard an indescribable roar of pain
and rage, and then they saw his huge bulk rushing down upon
them. Dick fired three times and Albert twice, but the bear
still came, and then Dick slammed the window shut and fastened it
just as the full weight of the bear was hurled against the cabin.
Neither boy ever concealed from himself the fact that he was in a
panic for a few moments. Their bullets seemed to have had no
effect upon the huge grizzly, who was growling ferociously and
tearing at the logs of the cabin. Glad they were that those logs
were so stout and thick, and they stood there a little while in
the darkness, their blood chilling at the sounds outside.
Presently the roaring and tearing ceased and there was the sound
of a fall. It was so dark in the cabin that the brothers could
not see the faces of each other, but Dick whispered:
"Albert, I believe we've killed him, after all."
Albert said nothing and they waited a full ten minutes. No sound
whatever came to their ears. Then Dick opened the window an inch
or two and peeped out. The great bear lay upon his side quite
still, and Dick uttered a cry of joy.
"We've killed him, Al! we've killed him!" he cried.
"Are you sure?" asked Albert.
"Quite sure. He does not stir in the slightest."
They opened the door and went out. The great grizzly was really
dead. Their bullets had gone true, but his vitality was so
enormous that he had been able to rush upon the cabin and tear at
it in his rage until he fell dead. Both boys looked at him with
admiration and awe; even dead, he was terrifying in every
respect.
"I don't wonder that the cougar, big and strong as he was, slunk
away in terror when he saw old Ephraim coming," said Dick.
"We must have his skin to put with our two buffalo robes," said
Albert.
"And we must take it to-night," said Dick, "or the wolves will be
here while we sleep."
They had acquired some skill in the art of removing furs and
pelts, but it took them hours to strip the coat from the big
grizzly. Then, as in the case of the buffalo, they cut away some
portions of the meat that they thought might prove tender. They
put the hide upon the roof to dry, and, their work over, they
went to sleep behind a door securely fastened.
Dick was awakened once by what he thought was a sound of
growling and fighting outside, but he was so sleepy that it made
no impression upon him. They did not awake fully until nearly
noon, and when they went forth they found that nothing was left
of the great bear but his skeleton.
"The timber wolves have been busy," said Dick.