A FIRST TASTE OF VENISON
"Get out! Get out, you rascals!"
That was about the burden of what Felix yelled, as he dashed at the
three timber wolves; although, when put to it afterwards he could never
be sure of what he said, only that he endeavored to make his whole
appearance as fierce looking as possible.
It seemed to be a success, too, for the animals turned tail, and bolted.
Wolves, as indeed about every other wild animal in the woods or in the
mountains, inherit a peculiar dread of fire, though of course the only
acquaintance most of them have with its terrifying qualities is when a
forest or a prairie fire threatens their lives.
Even before the white man came to these shores of America, the Indians
knew how to use flint and steel in order to kindle their fires; and
besides, now and then, doubtless conflagrations may have occurred
through fire coming down from the clouds, and the lightning striking
some dead tree in the woods.
Thus the fear of flames is born in these predatory animals; and as even
in the broad daylight the wolves saw the greasy newspaper flash up into
a little pyramid of fire, they just "scooted for all they were worth,"
as Felix afterwards declared, when telling the story of his little
adventure.
He did not even waste a second in glancing over his shoulder as he ran,
in order to ascertain how far this fear carried them. Chances were, they
would quickly get over the condition of panic, especially when seeing
their expected dinner making off in that vigorous fashion. And Felix
knew that once this occurred, they would be racing after him as fast as
they could run.
As the boy had always been fond of baseball, and kindred games, while at
school, doubtless he could look back to many an occasion when he put in
what he considered his "best licks" in endeavoring to stretch out a
two-base hit into a three-bagger; or possibly trying to steal home, when
the ball was being sent back to the pitcher, and his club needed a run
the worst kind, to win.
But Felix always claimed that had he been able to cover ground on those
occasions as rapidly as he did when those three wolves were after him,
he might have easily counted a home-run on that two-base hit; or be
sitting on the home plate by the time the pitcher was ready to throw to
catch him.
He fairly flew, every muscle and nerve being "on the job," as he called
it. The yawning open door was just in front of him; but by now he could
positively hear a terrible scratching sound in his rear, which must be
produced by the scrambling of his lupine foes over the intervening
ground.
They had recovered from their temporary scare, and were after him at
full speed, bent on pulling him down as they would a wounded deer.
But he reached the dugout, and shot through that opening like a flash.
At the instant of doing so he reached out, and catching hold of the
door, gave it a desperate fling.
He heard it strike something, which could only be the head of the
foremost wolf. And turning as quickly as possible, Felix threw his
weight against the door, which was even then commencing to move inward,
under the rush of enemies without.
But there was enough of vigor and alarm in the boy to crush the door
fast; after which he secured it with the bar.
He was safe, then, and had cheated the hungry beasts out of their
expected dinner. Felix seemed to experience a sudden change in the state
of his feelings. He had been alarmed before; now he was angry at those
three bold beasts. And turning around, he picked up the Marlin with
which he expected to get his ferocious grizzly; and which had been
chosen particularly on account of its hard shooting qualities, as well
as its faithfulness in a pinch, the mechanism never failing to work, as
some guns have a weakness for doing.
Once he had the hammer drawn back, and Felix walked deliberately over to
the door, which he meant to swing open. He might have taken to the
window just as well, but somehow he felt so fortified by this accession
of the repeating gun that he scorned such "baby" action.
Taking down the bar, he allowed the door to open just a few inches. That
gave him the chance he wanted to see the gleaming eyes and the red mouth
of a wolf not two feet away.
With the shot he saw the animal roll over in convulsions; while the
other two lost no time in making hasty tracks away from that dangerous
locality.
And here was where Felix showed that he knew what he was doing when he
selected the door instead of the smaller opening that served as a
window, since it actually had a pane of glass, and a movable sash--he was
enabled to immediately step outside, gun in hand, and take a couple of
shots at the fleeing wolves.
With each report one of the scampering beasts rolled over. It was as
fine shooting as Felix had ever done in all his life, and he had always
been accounted a rather clever hand with either rifle or bird gun.
"All down in that alley; set 'em up again!" he exclaimed, thrilled with
the remarkable success that had followed his work.
Not one of the ferocious beasts got up again, to try and limp away; so
that the young Nimrod was not compelled to use more than a single
cartridge apiece.
But when, presently, he went to the spring for that bucket of water,
Felix, you may be sure, carried the rifle along with him; and the three
cartridges that had been ejected were replaced by fresh ones.
There were no more wolves hovering around in that immediate
neighborhood, apparently, and he was not disturbed any further. So Felix
set about chopping his wood in the most unconcerned way possible, after
examining the bodies of his prizes, and dragging them into a row under
the big tree.
A short time later he heard Tom's "cooie," and answered it. Of course
the other had ceased his wild run as soon as he caught the regular sound
of the descending axe; but when he came up presently, fairly panting for
breath, his face displayed more than ordinary curiosity.
"What was it, Felix?" he asked.
"Do you mean, why did I fire those three shots?" asked the other,
meaning to tantalize his chum a little; for he could see how Tom was
burning up with eagerness to know the cause of the firing.
"Yes, yes, of course. It's generally the signal that a fellow needs
help," said Tom, eagerly.
"Well, my time for needing help had about passed when I let drive with
the Marlin gun," Felix went on, in a mysterious way that the other could
make nothing out of. "But if you could have dropped in here about a
minute before that time, I tell you now, you'd have been the most
welcome sight my eyes could have looked on."
"But why? Open up, Felix, and tell me what happened. You shot something,
didn't you?" Tom went on to demand.
"I shot three times, and there were just that number of the scamps, Tom."
Whereupon Tom glanced around, and in consequence quickly discovered the
several forms of the defunct beasts lying in a grim row under the big
tree.
"Well, I'll be hanged if it wasn't a whole pack of wolves; and what
fierce looking fellows, too!" he exclaimed, as he hurried over to
examine them.
"Huh!" grunted Felix; "I reckon each one looked about as tall as a house
to me, when they stood there, and showed me by their bared fangs, and
savage growls, that they didn't mean to let me make a dash from the
spring to the shack without tackling me."
"The spring! D'ye mean to say they waylaid you there? But how lucky it
was that you didn't forget to have your gun along!" ejaculated Tom.
"That's where the joke comes in," remarked the other, drily; "because it
never once occurred to me that a fellow ought to go to get a bucket of
water, with his gun under one arm. It was in the cabin at the time,
more's the pity."
Tom plumped down on the ground, and mopped his face with his bandana;
his run had apparently heated him up considerably.
"Spin the yarn, Felix; don't keep me guessing so hard. However in the
wide world did you keep them off till you grabbed up the gun?" he urged.
"Couldn't have done it at all, I give you my word, because they were
just bent on tackling me off-hand; but it chanced that I had an old
newspaper in my pocket."
"A newspaper!" echoed Tom; "what under the sun did that have to do with
it! How could a paper interest wolves? Come on, tell me what you did,
Felix?"
"Struck a match, and made a bully old torch. Then I just jumped for 'em,
and hollered to beat the band!" replied the other, with a grin.
Tom's face was a study as he listened, and he too smiled broadly.
"A great stunt, my boy, it sure was," he went on to say. "And so that
scared 'em off enough for you to get inside, where your gun was, did
it?"
"But only by a close shave," replied Felix. "One of the critters came
slap up against the door even when I was banging it shut; and they all
tried to outpush me."
"Then I suppose you just opened the little window, and gave the sassy
beasts one, two, three, eh, Felix?"
"Just what I did, only it was the door I opened a little, Tom. After I'd
bowled one over, the others put for shelter, just as I expected; and so
I was able to just step outside, and plunk the runners as neat as you
please. I'm some proud of those two shots; they were as good as anything
I ever did at my best."
"Well, you have done yourself proud, let me tell you that; but in my
mind the best part of the whole business was where you thought up that
clever dodge of using that newspaper for a torch. It was a stroke of
genius," said Tom, earnestly, and there could be no doubt that he meant
it.
"But I heard you shoot; did you get any fresh meat? Excuse me for
asking; but I'm that hungry for a bite of venison I'll have to forget my
manners, Tom?"
"Oh! I downed a young black-tail buck, and was toting the meat to camp
when I heard you shoot three times. Of course I just thought you'd
visitors here in the shape of that Abe Cozzins and Perley Kline we've
been hearing so much about, as guides who've been doing all sorts of
tough things, been fired from the Park, and are suspected of shooting
game on the Government reservation. You just bet I did some tall
sprinting for a while; then when I heard you start chopping, I knew you
must be all right; but by that time I was too much worked up to turn
around and go back for the venison I hung on a limb. I'll do that as
soon as I get my breath once more."
Felix swung his axe merrily, while the other watched him.
"You couldn't have better exercise than that for broadening your chest
and hardening your muscles don't you know it, Felix," Tom asked,
presently.
"Sure I do, and that's a sly hint I'm to be the steady wood chopper
while we're up in camp at the foot of the Rockies," replied the other,
laughingly; "but I really like the handling of an axe first-rate; and
with more practice I think I'll be able to bring it down exactly where I
want, every time, just like those loggers up in Maine do."
"Well, I must say you're in an awful big hurry to load up with pelts,"
Tom continued, with a whimsical grimace in the direction of the three
wolves. "Here you hardly get in camp before you begin by knocking over a
big cat that crawls out of our chimney; and before a single day goes by
you've lain out a heap of fine wolf hides for me to stretch and dry. At
that rate I see myself keeping busy right along and we'll have a load to
take back on our sledge that'll make Frazer's eyes stick out of his
head. I kind of think he laughed in his sleeve at the idea of two boys
catching any of these fur bearing animals. He'll have another guess
coming. But I ought to be hiking out after that venison. I'd hate to
have any critter make way with it, after going to all the trouble I did,
eh, Felix?"
"And then, we need it in our business so bad, too," remarked the other,
drily; "so I think you'd better be getting it, Tom."
Accordingly, Tom started off again to retrace his steps, promising to be
back in half an hour or less. With the pleasing prospect of fresh meat
for supper, Felix worked with additional vim, as he swung the light axe
they had carried with them through the three days they had been on the
trail up here.
Now and then he would steal a glance toward the row of grim trophies
that had fallen to his skill as a marksman; yet from certain words that
dropped from his lips it was evident that Felix gave much of the credit
to his faithful gun.
"Just point it straight, and it'll do the rest every time," he chuckled,
with a fond look at the rifle snuggled down close to where he was
working, so that he could snatch it up at a second's warning, if
necessary.
After a time the cheery whistle of his chum was heard near by, and then
Tom appeared, staggering under his load, but making light of it when
Felix protested that he should not have tried to carry so much.
"Plenty of meat for a week or two, because it'll keep sweet and nice in
this mountain air, and particularly at this time of year," Felix had
said, as he helped unload the pack-horse and sized up the cuts.
"Don't examine 'em too close," remonstrated the Nimrod; "I never was a
good hand at butchering; though I had ought to be, because I've been
raised among cattle, and have cut up many a steer. But it answers our
purpose."
"Well, if you call that poor work, you'll take a fit when you see what I
do," remarked the other, shaking his head in despair.
As the afternoon was now getting along, they determined that they might
as well start things moving, looking toward supper. Both of them were
fairly wild to get the first taste of meat on the trip.
At home, and cooked in the civilized fashion, with possibly only a poor
appetite spurring one on, venison is apt to seem dry eating; but take it
out in the woods with the proper surroundings, and hunger that is
clamorous in its demands; with the game cooked after the hunter's
fashion, and there is nothing more delightful. Just so the coffee tastes
like nectar out of a rusty old tin cup, while at home much of the
pleasure is lost if there happens to be a crack in the delicate china
cup in which the fragrant juice of the Java bean is served. The
conditions and surroundings have a great deal to do with the enjoyment
of a thing; and venison was never intended to be eaten over a snow-white
table cloth, and flanked by cut glass and china and silverware.
While Felix commenced to get supper Tom gave his attention to taking off
the gray "jackets," as he called them, of the wolves.
"Some day, not a great ways off," he remarked, "they'll be keeping a
chauffeur or a gentleman in a car snug and warm, and that's a better use
for them, than just covering three pesky calf-killers. I'm always
tickled all to death to see a wolf knocked over, I despise the breed so;
they're so sneaky and so cruel."
"Well, they looked that way to me, let me tell you," remarked Felix from
within the shack, where he was busily employed; "especially when they
drew back their lips and showed me what long fangs they had, all of 'em.
But all's well that ends well; and we've got a nice bunch of wolf pelts
to start on."
After awhile the tantalizing odor of coffee began to steal out to Tom;
and then this was supplemented by the delightful smell of frying meat;
for they had fetched along a good-sized frying pan, without which Tom
never would go camping.
He had just washed up, after completing his job, so far as the first
part of it went, when Felix announced that supper was ready.
"I reckon you'd better take a look around tomorrow," Tom remarked, as
they sat there by the fire, enjoying a bountiful meal that made both
boys as contented as kings. "I had my inning today; and besides, I've
got lots of work to do, what with getting these wolf pelts fastened on
stretchers; and setting a few traps in places not a great ways from the
shack. And after the time you had, I give you fair warning that I'll
never be caught out, with my gun at home. If you'd had time, of course,
you could have climbed a tree; but those hungry chaps didn't mean to let
you try such a dodge. Chances were they'd have nabbed you in three
shakes of a lamb's tail."
"But we've got enough meat for awhile, haven't we?" asked Felix.
"Better lay in a stock while the chance offers," replied the other,
wisely. "If we want to keep it I know how the Indians jerk their
venison, and it ain't half way bad, cooked in a stew, or eaten as it's
dried. Pemmican they call it, and some of the lot they carry is about as
black as your hat, from the smoke it was dried in. An Indian brave can
run for days with only a handful of that stuff along to nibble at when
he feels faint. It's a life saver, all right."
"Perhaps, then, I will take a look around," Felix admitted; for he was
eager to try his luck with the deer, as well as have a chance to observe
what the surrounding country looked like.
They passed a pleasant evening, both busy doing some little thing; for
there could always be found plenty that needed attention; and Tom was a
great hand to want to have everything about him shipshape.
And when finally, becoming tired, the two chums turned in, they did not
need any rocking to put them to sleep.