Chapter VIII

The Trap Makers

The hide of the bear, which they cured in good style, was a

magnificent trophy; the fur was soft and long, and when spread

out came near covering the floor of their cabin. It was a fit

match for the robe of the buffalo. They did not know much about

grizzlies, but they believed that no larger bear would ever be

killed in the Rocky Mountains.

A few days later Dick shot another buffalo in one of the defiles,

but this was a young cow and her flesh was tender. They lived on

a portion of it from day to day and the rest they cured and put

in the Annex. They added the robe to their store of furs.

"I'm thinking," said Dick, "that you and I, Al, might turn fur

hunters." This seems to be an isolated corner of the mountains.

It may have been tapped out long ago, but when man goes away the

game comes back. We've got a comfortable house, and, with this

as a basis, we might do better hunting furs here than if we were

hunting gold in California, where the chances are always against

you.

The idea appealed to Albert, but for the present they contented

themselves with improving their house and surroundings. Other

bears, cougars, and wolves came at night and prowled around the

Annex, but it was secure against them all, and Dick and Albert

never troubled themselves again to keep awake and watch for such

intruders.

Winter now advanced and it was very cold, but, to Dick's great

relief, no snow came. It was on Albert's account that he wished

air and earth to remain dry, and it seemed as if Nature were

doing her best to help the boy's recovery. The cough did not

come again, he had no more spells of great exhaustion, the

physical uplift became mental also, and his spirits, because of

the rebound, fairly bubbled. He was full of ideas, continually

making experiments, and had great plans in regard to the valley

and Castle Howard, as he sometimes playfully called their cabin.

One of the things that pleased Albert most was his diversion of

water from a hot spring about fifty yards from the cabin and

higher up the ravine. He dug a trench all the way from the pool

to the house, and the hot water came bubbling down to their very

door. It cooled, of course, a little on the way, but it was

still warm enough for cooking purposes, and Albert was hugely

delighted.

"Hot water! Cold water! Whatever you wish, Dick," he said;

"just turn on the tap. If my inventive faculty keeps on growing,

I'll soon have a shower bath, hot and cold, rigged up here."

"It won't grow enough for that," said Dick; "but I want to tell

you, Al, that the big game in the valley is increasing at a

remarkable rate. Although cold, it's been a very open winter so

far, but I suppose the instinct of these animals warns them to

seek a sheltered place in time."

"Instinct or the habit of endless generations," said Albert.

"Which may be the same thing," rejoined Dick.

"There's a whole herd of elk beyond the far end of the lake, I've

noticed on the cliffs what I take to be mountain sheep, and

thirty or forty buffalos at least must be ranging about in here."

"Then," said Albert, "let's have a try at the buffaloes. Their

robes will be worth a lot when we go back to civilization, and

there is more room left in the Annex."

They took their repeaters and soon proved Dick's words to be

true. In a sheltered meadow three or more miles up the valley

they found about twenty buffaloes grazing. Each shot down a fat

cow, and they could have secured more had not the minds of both

boys rebelled at the idea of slaughter.

"It's true we'd like to have the robes," said Dick, "but we'd

have to leave most of the carcasses rotting here. Even with the

wonderful appetites that we've developed, we couldn't eat a whole

buffalo herd in one winter."

But after they had eaten the tongue, brisket, and tenderloin of

the two cows, while fresh, these being the tenderest and best

parts of the buffalo, they added the rest of the meat to their

stores in the Annex. As they had done already in several cases,

they jerked it, a most useful operation that observant Dick had

learned when they were with the wagon train.

It took a lot of labor and time to jerk the buffaloes, but

neither boy had a lazy bone in him, and time seemed to stretch

away into eternity before them. They cut the flesh into long,

thin strips, taking it all from the bones. Then all these pieces

were thoroughly mixed with salt--fortunately, they could obtain

an unlimited supply of salt by boiling out the water from the

numerous salt springs in the valley--chiefly by pounding and

rubbing. They let these strips remain inside the hides about

three hours, then all was ready for the main process of jerking.

Albert had been doing the salting and Dick meanwhile had been

getting ready the frame for the jerking. He drove four forked

poles into the ground, in the form of a square and about seven

feet apart. The forks were between four and five feet above the

ground. On opposite sides of the square, from fork to fork, he

laid two stout young poles of fresh, green wood. Then from pole

to pole he laid many other and smaller poles, generally about an

inch apart. They laid the strips of buffalo meat, taken from

their salt bath, upon the network of small poles, and beneath

they built a good fire of birch, ash, and oak.

"Why, it makes me think of a smokehouse at home," said Albert.

"Same principle," said Dick, "but if you let that fire under

there go out, Al, I'll take one of those birch rods and give you

the biggest whaling you ever had in your life. You're strong

enough now to stand a good licking."

Albert laughed. He thought his big brother Dick about the

greatest fellow on earth. But he paid assiduous attention to the

fire, and Dick did so, too. They kept it chiefly a great bed of

coals, never allowing the flames to rise as high as the buffalo

meat, and they watched over it twenty-four hours. In order to

keep this watch, they deserted the cabin for a night, sleeping by

turns before the fire under the frame of poles, which was no

hardship to them.

The fierce timber wolves came again in the night, attracted by

the savory odor of buffalo meat; and once they crept near and

were so threatening that Albert, whose turn it was at the watch,

became alarmed. He awakened Dick, and, in order to teach these

dangerous marauders a lesson, they shot two of them. Then the

shrewd animals, perceiving that the two-legged beasts by the fire

carried something very deadly with which they slew at a distance,

kept for a while to the forest and out of sight.

After the twenty-four hours of fire drying, the buffalo meat was

greatly reduced in weight and bulk, though it was packed as full

as ever with sustenance. It was now cured, that is, jerked, and

would keep any length of time. While the frame was ready they

jerked an elk, two mule deer, a big silver-tip bear that Dick

shot on the mountain side, and many fish that they caught in the

lake and the little river. They would scale the fish, cut them

open down the back, and then remove the bone. After that the

flesh was jerked on the scaffold in the same way that the meat of

the buffalo and deer was treated.

Before these operations were finished, the big timber wolves

began to be troublesome again. Neither boy dared to be anywhere

near the jerking stage without a rifle or revolver, and Dick

finally invented a spring pole upon which they could put the

fresh meat that was waiting its turn to be prepared--they did

not want to carry the heavy weight to the house for safety, and

then have to bring it back again.

While Dick's spring pole was his own invention, as far as he was

concerned, it was the same as that used by thousands of other

trappers and hunters. He chose a big strong sapling which Albert

and he with a great effort bent down. Then he cut off a number

of the boughs high up, and in each crotch fastened a big piece of

meat. The sapling was then allowed to spring back into place and

the meat was beyond the reach of wolf.

But the wolves tried for it, nevertheless. Dick awakened Albert

the first night after this invention was tried and asked him if

he wished to see a ghost dance. Albert, wrapped to his eyes in

the great buffalo robe, promptly sat up and looked.

They had filled four neighboring saplings with meat, and at least

twenty wolves were gathered under them, looking skyward, but not

at the sky--it was the flesh of elk and buffalo that they gazed

at so longingly, and delicious odors that they knew assailed

their nostrils.

But the wolf is an enterprising animal. He does not merely sit

and look at what he wants, expecting it to come to him. Every

wolf in the band knew that no matter how hard and long he might

look that splendid food in the tree would not drop down into his

waiting mouth. So they began to jump for it, and it was this

midnight and wilderness ballet that Albert opened his eyes to

watch.

One wolf, the biggest of the lot, leaped. It was a fine leap,

and might have won him a championship among his kind, but he did

not reach the prize. His teeth snapped together, touching only

one another, and he fell. Albert imagined that he could hear a

disappointed growl. Another wolf leaped, the chief leaped again,

a third, a fourth, and a fifth leaped, and then all began to leap

together.

The air was full of flying wolfish forms, going up or coming

down. They went up, hearts full of hope, and came down, mouths

empty of everything but disappointed foam. Teeth savagely hit

teeth, and growls of wrath were abundant. Albert felt a

ridiculous inclination to laugh. The whole affair presented its

ludicrous aspect to him.

"Did you ever see so much jumping for so little reward?" he

whispered to Dick.

"No, not unless they're taking exercise to keep themselves thin,

although I never heard of a fat wolf."

But a wolf does not give up easily. They continued to leap

faster and faster, and now and then a little higher than before,

although empty tooth still struck empty tooth. Now and then a

wolf more prone to complaint than the others lifted up his voice

and howled his rage and chagrin to the moon. It was a genuine

moan, a long, whining cry that echoed far through the forest and

along the slopes, and whenever Albert heard it he felt more

strongly than ever the inclination to laugh.

"I suppose that a wolf's woes are as real as our own," he

whispered, "but they do look funny and act funny."

"Strikes me the same way," replied Dick with a grin. "But

they're robbers, or would be if they could. That meat's ours,

and they're trying to get it."

It was in truth a hard case for the wolves. They were very big

and very strong. Doubtless, the selfsame wolf that had been

driven away from the Annex by the mountain lion was among them,

and all of them were atrociously hungry. It was not merely an

odor now, they could also see the splendid food hanging just

above their heads. Never before had they leaped so persistently,

so ardently, and so high, but there was no reward, absolutely

none. Not a tooth felt the touch of flesh. The wolves looked

around at one another jealously, but the record was as clean as

their teeth. There had been no surreptitious captures.

"Will they keep it up all night?" whispered Albert.

"Can't say," replied Dick. "We'll just watch."

All the wolves presently stopped leaping and crouched on the

earth, staring straight up at the prizes which hung, as ever,

most tantalizingly out of reach. The moonlight fell full upon

them, a score or more, and Albert fancied that he could see their

hungry, disappointed eyes. The spectacle was at once weird and

ludicrous. Albert felt again that temptation to laugh, but he

restrained it.

Suddenly the wolves, as if it were a preconcerted matter, uttered

one long, simultaneous howl, full, alike in its rising and

falling note, of pain, anguish, and despair, then they were gone

in such swiftness and silence that it was like the instant

melting of ghosts into thin air. It took a little effort of will

to persuade Albert that they had really been there.

"They've given it up," he said. "The demon dancers have gone."

"Demon dancers fits them," said Dick. "It's a good name.

Yes, they've gone, and I don't think they'll come back. Wolves

are smart, they know when they're wasting time."

When they finished jerking their buffalo meat and venison, Dick

took the fine double-barreled shotgun which they had used but

little hitherto, and went down to the lake in search of succulent

waterfowl. The far shore of the lake was generally very high,

but on the side of the cabin there were low places, little

shallow bays, the bottoms covered with grass, which were much

frequented by wild geese and wild ducks, many of which, owing to

the open character of the winter, had not yet gone southward.

The ducks, in particular, muscovy, mallard, teal, widgeon, and

other kinds, the names of which Dick did not know, were

numerous. They had been molested so little that they were quite

tame, and it was so easy to kill them in quantities that the

element of sport was entirely lacking.

Dick did not fancy shooting at a range of a dozen yards or so

into a dense flock of wild ducks that would not go away, and he

wished also to save as many as he could of their shot cartridges,

for he had an idea that he and his brother would remain in the

valley a long time. But both he and Albert wanted good supplies

of duck and geese, which were certainly toothsome and succulent,

and they were taking a pride, too, in filling the Annex with the

best things that the mountains could afford. Hence Dick did some

deep thinking and finally evolved a plan, being aided in his

thoughts by earlier experience in Illinois marshes.

He would trap the ducks and geese instead of shooting them, and

he and Albert at once set about the task of making the trap.

This idea was not original with Dick. As so many others have

been, he was, in part, and unconscious imitator. He planted in

the shallow water a series of hoops, graded in height, the

largest being in the deepest water, while they diminished

steadily in size as they came nearer to the land. They made the

hoops of split saplings, and planted them about four feet apart.

Then the covered all these hoops with a netting, the total length

of which was about twenty-five feet. They also faced each hoop

with a netting, leaving an aperture large enough for the ducts to

enter. It was long and tedious work to make the netting, as this

was done by cutting the hide of an elk and the hide of a mule

deer into strips and plaiting the strips on the hoops. They then

had a network tunnel, at the smaller end of which they

constructed an inclosure five or six feet square by means of

stout poles which they thrust into the mud, and the same network

covering which they used on the tunnel.

"It's like going in at the big end of a horn and coming out at

the little one into a cell," said Albert. "Will it work?"

"Work?" replied Dick. "Of course, it will. You just wait and

you'll see."

Albert looked out upon the lake, where many ducks were swimming

about placidly, and he raised his hand.

"Oh, foolish birds!" he apostrophized. "Here is your enemy,

man, making before your very eyes the snare that will lead you to

destruction, and you go on taking no notice, thinking that the

sunshine will last forever for you."

"Shut up, Al," said Dick, "you'll make me feel sorry for those

ducks. Besides, you're not much of a poet, anyway."

When the trap was finished they put around the mouth and all

along the tunnel quantities of the grass and herbs that the ducks

seemed to like, and then Dick announced that the enterprise was

finished.

"We have nothing further to do about it," he said, "but to take

out our ducks."

It was toward twilight when they finished the trap, and both had

been in the cold water up to their knees. Dick had long since

become hardened to such things, but he looked at Albert rather

anxiously. The younger boy, however, did not begin to cough. He

merely hurried back to the fire, took off his wet leggings, and

toasted his feet and legs. Then he ate voraciously and slept

like a log the night through. But both he and Dick went down to

the lake the next morning with much eagerness to see what the

trap contained, if anything.

It was a fresh winter morning, not cold enough to freeze the

surface of the lake, but extremely crisp. The air contained the

extraordinary exhilarating quality which Dick had noticed when

they first came into the mountains, but which he had never

breathed anywhere else. It seemed to him to make everything

sparkle, even his blood, and suddenly he leaped up, cracked his

heels together, and shouted.

"Why, Dick," exclaimed Albert, "what on earth is the matter with

you?"

"Nothing is the matter with me. Instead, all's right. I'm so

glad I'm alive, Al, old man, that I wanted to shout out the fact

to all creation."

"Feel that way myself," said Albert, "and since you've given such

a good example, think I'll do as you did."

He leaped up, cracked his heels together, and let out a yell that

the mountains sent back in twenty echoes. Then both boys laughed

with sheer pleasure in life, the golden morning, and their happy

valley. So engrossed were they in the many things that they were

doing that they did not yet find time to miss human faces.

As they approached the trap, they heard a great squawking and

cackling and found that the cell, as Albert called the square

inclosure, contained ten ducks and two geese swimming about in a

great state of trepidation. They had come down the winding

tunnel and through the apertures in the hoops, but they did not

have sense enough to go back the same way. Instead they merely

swam around the square and squawked.

"Now, aren't they silly?" exclaimed Albert. "With the door to

freedom open, they won't take it."

"I wonder," said Dick philosophically, "if we human beings are

not just the same. Perhaps there are easy paths out of our

troubles lying right before us and superior creatures up in the

air somewhere are always wondering why we are such fools that we

don't see them."

"Shut up, Dick," said Albert, "your getting too deep. I've no

doubt that in our net are some ducks that are rated as

uncommonly intelligent ducks as ducks go."

They forgot all about philosophy a few moments later when they

began to dispose of their capture. They took them out, one by

one, through a hole that they made in the cell and cut off their

heads. The net was soon full up again, and they caught all the

ducks and geese they wanted with such ridiculous ease that at the

end of a week they took it down and stored it in the cabin.

They jerked the ducks and geese that they did not need for

immediate use, and used the feathers to stuff beds and pillows

for themselves. The coverings of these beds were furs which they

stitched together with the tendons of the deer.

They began to be annoyed about this time by the depredations of

mountain lions, which, attracted by the pleasant odors, came down

from the slopes to the number of at least half a dozen, Dick

surmised, and prowled incessantly about the cabin and Annex,

taking the place of the timber wolves, and proving more

troublesome and dangerous alike. One of them managed at night

to seize the edge of an elk skin that hung on the roof of the

cabin, and the next morning the skin was half chewed up and

wholly ruined.

Both boys were full of rage, and they watched for the lions, but

failed to get a shot at them. But Dick, out of the stores of his

memory, either some suggestion from reading, or trappers' and

hunters' tales, devised a gun trap. He put a large piece of

fresh deer meat in the woods about a quarter of a mile from the

cabin. It was gone the next morning, and the tracks about showed

that the lions had been present.

Then Dick drove two stout forked sticks into the ground, the

forks being about a yard above the earth. Upon these he lashed

one of their rifles. Then he cut a two-foot section of a very

small sapling, one end of which he inserted carefully between the

ground that the trigger of the rifle. The other end was

supported upon a small fork somewhat higher than those supporting

the rifle. Then he procured another slender but long section of

sapling that reached from the end of the short piece in the

crotch some distance beyond the muzzle of the rifle. The end

beyond the muzzle had the stub of a bough on it, but the end in

the crotch was tied there with a strip of hide. Now, if anything

should pull on the end of this stick, it would cause the shorter

stick to spring the trigger of the rifle and discharge it. Dick

tested everything, saw that all was firmly and properly in place,

and the next thing to do was to bait the trap.

He selected a piece of most tempting deer meat and fastened it

tightly on the hooked end of the long stick. It was obvious that

any animal pulling at this bait would cause the short stick tied

at the other end of it to press against the trigger of the rifle,

and the rifle would be fired as certainly as if the trigger had

been pulled by the hand of man. Moreover, the barrel of the

rifle was parallel with the long stick, and the bullet would

certainly be discharged into the animal pulling at the bait.

After the bait had been put on Dick put the cartridge in the

rifle. He was careful to do this last, as he did not wish to

take any chances with the trap while he was testing it. But he

and Albert ran a little wall of brush off on either side in order

that the cougar, if cougar it were, should be induced to approach

the muzzle directly in front. When all the work was finished,

the two boys inspected it critically.

"I believe that our timber wolves would be too smart to come up

to that trap," said Albert.

"Perhaps," said Dick; "but the wolf has a fine intellect, and

I've never heard that the cougar or puma was particularly noted

for brain power. Anyhow, I know that traps are built for him in

this manner, and we shall see whether it will work."

"Are we going to hide somewhere near by and watch during the

night?"

"There's no need to make ourselves uncomfortable. If the gun

gets him, it'll get him whether we are or are not here."

"That's so," said Albert. "Well, I'm willing enough to take to

the cabin. These nights are growing pretty cold, I can tell

you."

Taking a last look at the gun trap and assuring themselves that

it was all right, they hurried away to Castle Howard. The night

was coming on much colder than any that they had yet had, and

both were glad to get inside. Albert stirred the coals from

beneath the ashes, put on fresh wood, and soon they had a fine

blaze. The light flickered over a cabin greatly improved in

appearance and wonderfully snug.

The floor, except directly in front of the hearth, where sparks

and coals would pop out, was covered with the well-tanned skins

of buffalo, elk, mule deer, bear, and wolf. The walls were also

thickly hung with furs, while their extra weapons, tools, and

clothing hung there on hooks. It was warm, homelike, and showed

all the tokens of prosperity. Dick looked around at it with an

approving eye. It was not only a house, and a good house at

that, but it was a place that one might make a base for a plan

that he had in mind. Yes, circumstance had certainly favored

them. Their own courage, skill, and energy had done the rest.

Albert soon fell asleep after supper, but Dick was more wakeful,

although he did not wish to be so. It was the gun trap that kept

his eyes open. He took a pride in doing things well, and he

wanted the trap to work right. A fear that it might not do so

worried him, but in turn he fell into a sound sleep from which he

was awakened by a report. He thought at first that something had

struck the house, but when his confused senses were gathered into

a focus he knew that it was a rifle shot.

"Up, Al, up!" he cried, "I think a cougar has been fooling with

our trap!"

Albert jumped up. They threw on their coats and went out into a

dark and bitterly cold night. If they had not been so eager to

see what had happened, they would have fled back to the refuge of

the warm cabin, but they hurried on toward the snug little hollow

in which the gun trap had been placed. At fifty yards they

stopped and went much more slowly, as a terrific growling and

snarling smote their ears.

"It's the cougar, and we've got him," said Dick. "He's hit bad

or he wouldn't be making such a terrible fuss."

They approached cautiously and saw on the ground, almost in front

of the gun, a large yellowish animal writhing about and tearing

the earth. His snarls and rage increased as he scented the two

boys drawing near.

"I think his shoulder is broken and his backbone injured," said

Dick. "That's probably the reason he can't get away. I don't

like to see him suffer and I'll finish him now."

He sent a bullet through the cougar's head and that was the end

of him. In order to save it from the wolves, they took his hide

from him where he lay, and spread it the next day on the roof of

the cabin.

The gun trap was so successful that they baited it again and

again, securing three more cougars, until the animals became too

wary to try for the bait. The fourth cougar did not sustain a

severe wound and fled up the mountain side, but Dick tracked him

by the trail of blood that he left, overtook him far up the

slope, and slew him with single shot. All these skins were added

to their collection, and when the last was spread out to dry,

Dick spoke of the plan that he had in mind.

"Al," he said, "these mountains, or at least this corner of them,

seem to be left to us. The Sioux, I suppose, are on the warpath

elsewhere, and they don't like mountains much, anyhow. Our

wonderful valley, the slopes, and all the ravines and canyons are

full of game. The beaver must be abundant farther in, and I

propose that we use our opportunity and turn fur hunters.

There's wealth around us for the taking, and we were never sure

of it in California. We've got enough ammunition to last us two

years if we want to stay that long. Besides, Al, old boy, the

valley has been the remaking of you. You know that."

Albert laughed from sheer delight.

"Dick," he said, "you won't have to get a gun and threaten me

with death unless I stay. I'll be glad to be a fur hunter, and,

Dick, I tell you, I'm in love with this valley. As you say, it's

made me over again, and oh, it's fine to be well and strong, to

do what you please, and not always to be thinking, 'how can I

stand this? Will it hurt me?'"

"Then," said Dick, "it's settled. We'll not think for a long

time of getting back to civilization, but devote ourselves to

gathering up furs and skins."

The Last of the Chiefs: A Story of the Great Sioux War · 第 8 / 20 章