TRACKS IN THE SNOW
Meantime Joe had proceeded with his butchering and after he had
finished, gathered some wood and made himself a little fire. It
took some time to do this, for almost everywhere the wood was wet;
but by looking carefully he found some dry branches that were
sheltered by the foliage above them, and others that lay under a
fallen tree, and presently he had a good fire lighted, and one
that was so strong that he could throw wet wood on it and it would
soon dry and burn. He built his fire in a sheltered place, and the
light breeze drifted the smoke off down the stream. Before long he
was warm and dry. After he had waited a while, he went out beyond
the trees and looked off toward the ridge where Jack had gone,
to see whether he was not yet coming back, but he saw nothing. A
little later he went out again and Jack was not yet in sight, but
as he turned about he saw coming down the hill about half a mile
off, thirteen elk, mostly cows and calves, but one spikehorn, and
following last of all and keeping the others together a monstrous
bull with a great pair of horns. Of course when he saw them Joe
stood still. The elk had come down from some higher hill, and
when they came to where the snow was not very deep they began to
scatter out and feed. When most of them had passed behind the point
of hill which backed the next ridge above the one Joe was on, he
began to move very slowly and cautiously toward the shelter of a
clump of trees. Every now and then, one of the old cows would lift
her head, and as she munched the grass that she had just plucked,
would look all around the horizon, and when she did so, Joe stood
without moving a muscle. Then when all the heads were down again,
he very slowly moved a little toward his cover. At last only one
of the elk was in sight, and when she put her head down he could
see nothing but her back and hips, and two or three steps took
him out of sight even of these. Still he did not run, but walked
slowly, watching closely the sky-line above him, for at any moment
one of the elk might walk up there to look over the country. None
appeared, however, and in a very few moments he was hidden by the
trees.
Now he did not know what to do. His first idea was to creep up to
the ridge and kill some of the elk, but before he determined that
he would do this he considered. He remembered how Hugh often spoke
of not killing anything more than they needed to eat, and he knew
that these deer that they had would last them for a long time.
He did not wish to do anything that Hugh would not like, and so,
instead of deciding that he would kill anything, he took his gun
and walked over to the ridge, to look at the elk. He had crept up
to the top of the hill and peered over, and was watching the elk
feeding not far in front of him--half a dozen of them within easy
rifle-range--when he heard a faint whoop behind him, and turning
his head saw Jack coming with the pack-horses. Slowly creeping back
a little way, Joe waved to him to come on, and to hurry, and Jack
galloped the pack horses over to the foot of the ridge, and at a
sign from Joe, dismounted. Then he crept up to Joe and they both
lay there on the hill and watched the elk.
It was a pretty sight, and an interesting one, too. The bull,
although all the time feeding, seemed to keep close watch of his
companions. Once in a while one of the cows would stray off to
a little distance from the others, and the bull would walk over
toward her, shaking his head as he approached, and when the cow saw
this she turned back to the bunch and joined them again. Then the
bull began to feed once more.
"Watch him," said Joe, "he's a pretty good herder, isn't he? He
won't let one of those cows wander away; he's afraid that somewhere
there might be some other old bull looking for cows, that would
take her and carry her off. Pretty smart at this time of year they
are."
While they were watching the herd as they fed along a little beyond
them, presently some eddy of the wind brought their scent to the
cows farthest down the stream, and they lifted up their heads,
and looked for a moment; then turned and trotted swiftly away up
the hill. As soon as they did this, the other cows began to look,
and then to move off; but the bull seemed to understand at once
that there was danger near at hand, and rushed around the cows,
thrusting at them with his horns, so that in a moment they were
all in motion, and swiftly trotting away. At the top of the hill
the cows paused to look back; but the bull, which was laboring
along behind, shook his head at them, and they began to run again.
When the elk had disappeared, the boys rose to their feet, and then
realized that they were both of them chattering with cold. The
breeze was blowing harder now, and lying on the hillside exposed
to it, they had both become chilled. They went down to the horses
and took them over to where the deer lay and then built up the fire
and got warm again. Then they packed the deer on the two horses,
but the animals were so large that they could not lift them without
cutting them up into quarters. At last the loads were arranged, the
ropes tightened, and they started down the hill toward camp, which
they reached just before dark.
Supper was ready, and as soon as the boys had hung up their meat on
the branches of a tree, and had washed their hands in the brook,
they fell to eagerly. Not much was said during the meal, but after
it had been cleared away and Hugh had filled his pipe and was
sitting by the fire comfortably smoking, Jack said to him, "Hugh,
we had a mighty nice view of a bunch of elk this afternoon, and
watched them for quite a while, and saw the old bull gather up the
cows and drive them away when they found that we were there."
"Yes," said Hugh, "haven't you ever seen a bull do that before?"
"No," said Jack, "I've seen plenty of elk but I never happened to
see that."
"Well," said Hugh, "you know the bull elk is mighty rough with his
cows, after he has gathered them and got a bunch, and what is more,
when he is looking for them in the early fall, just about this
time, he is mighty systematic in the way he hunts for them. I've
sat on a hill and seen an old bull hunt out a lot of ravines in the
elk country just as systematically as a cow-puncher would hunt them
out for cattle. He makes a regular business of it, and after he's
got them together he don't allow any straggling, and if a cow don't
mind what he says, and he can catch her, he gives her a terrible
thumping with those old horns of his."
"Well, Hugh, did you ever see two bulls fight?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "I've seen 'em do that a good many times. I
reckon I've told you about that before. They don't fight quickly;
they're not active like an antelope when they're fighting: but
they're mighty powerful, and they come together pretty hard, and
then they just push and push, and at last, if the footing is good,
the biggest one is pretty sure to push the other out of the way,
and if the smaller one doesn't hop round pretty lively, he gets
a good punch with the horns. I've heard tell of elk killing each
other when they fought; but I never saw anything like that, and I
never even saw an elk get cut up with the horns of an animal that
he was fighting with. Of course I never had a chance to look close
at many elk that I saw fighting, but I never could see any blood
or any cuts. An elk-hide is pretty thick, and I guess they just
scratch and bruise each other.
"I've heard of elk-horns being locked, same as deer-horns often
are, but I never myself saw but one pair; they were locked and you
could not pull them apart. I heard that some chap bought them, up
on the Missouri River, to send back east to some museum."
"Well, I tell you, Hugh," said Jack, "I don't think much of elk,
anyhow, except to eat. You remember that tame one we had down at
the ranch? There wasn't anything interesting or nice about him; he
was awkward and clumsy and mean. Of course he looked nice, but that
was about all."
"No," said Hugh, "that's so; elk meat is good, but that's about all
elk are good for--to eat."
The next morning the sun came out bright and strong, and the snow
began to melt rapidly. Lines were strung among the trees, and all
the blankets, ropes and saddles, which had been more or less wet
during the last day or two, were hung up to dry. The flesh of the
deer was sliced into thin flakes, and hung up on scaffolds made by
Joe and Hugh, and under this a small fire was made, and the smoke
passing under the flakes of meat partially dried it. The hams and
saddle of one of the deer were kept for fresh meat.
"I'd like to get off this afternoon," said Hugh, toward midday. "Of
course it's early in the season yet, and no heavy snow is likely to
fall; but often we have a storm late in September that might stop
us for a week, and I'd be pleased if we could get over the ridge
before that comes. We must start as soon as these things get dry,
and as soon as that meat will do to pack; it's pretty fat, and it
won't dry fast in this kind of weather; this air is too damp."
In the effort to hurry up the drying process they built a large
fire near the wet things that were hung up, and as the heat from
the fire and from the sun grew strong, the steam rose from them. A
little after noon, Hugh, who had been inspecting the things, said,
"Come on, now; let's saddle up. The robes and blankets are dry, and
we'll shove this meat in a sack and give it another steaming when
we get to a good place. The weather is cool enough now so that it
will keep until we get over the range." Before long the packs were
lashed, and all the members of the party were in the saddle and
pushing their way up the stream.
There was now no visible trail. The snow covered everything, and
though it was dripping fast from the trees at their level, they
could see that on the higher hills it still hung thick upon the
branches. From time to time the stream narrowed, so that they were
obliged to leave it and climb the ridges, which often afforded much
better going than the creek bottom. As they climbed higher and
higher, everything was draped in white; but now the sun went behind
the clouds, and the glare of the white snow was not uncomfortable.
Hugh had said as they started, "You boys better take and blacken
your faces; I am going to do it;" and taking some charcoal from the
fire, each of the party rubbed the black over the upper parts of
the face, the cheeks, the bridge of the nose, and around the eyes,
to keep the glare from the snow from affecting the eyes.
They climbed higher and higher, and as they climbed, the stream
grew smaller. From time to time they reached some point from
which there was an extended view, showing far-reaching, snow-clad
mountains and evergreen forests; and ahead of them the high peaks
of the main divide, with precipices of bare black rock, to which
the snow could not cling. As they passed along, Jack noticed
frequent tracks of deer and elk, and others of smaller animals
which he did not recognize, and which there was no time to stop
and ask about. Hugh rode fast, and the boys kept the animals close
behind him. Often for a little distance through an open valley, or
along a bare ridge, Hugh would trot or gallop. He was evidently
anxious to get on.
It was growing dark when, at the head of a pretty, open valley,
Hugh turned his horse into the timber, and after looking around for
a moment, said, "We'll camp here, boys. Bring the horses right up
close to Baldy." They did so, and soon had the loads on the ground.
Poles were quickly cut, the lodge was put up, and the ground within
it was soon cleared of snow, and a fire started. Then, under Hugh's
direction, the boys went out and broke several armfuls of spruce
boughs, which they brought in and placed around the walls of the
lodge where the beds would be spread, to keep them off the snow.
Two of the horses had already been picketed and the others hobbled.
There was danger that night they might desert, and take the back
trail for the lower ground, where, of course, they well remembered
that there was good grass, while up here to get anything to eat
they would have to paw through the deep snow.
"You boys had better cook supper," said Hugh. "I'm going down to
the end of this valley, to see if I can't stop it up in some way so
that the horses can't get away to-night; they're likely to leave
us, and if they do, we'll have to hunt them to-morrow."
Before entering this valley they had passed up through a narrow
cañon, riding for a short distance in the stream-bed, and Hugh, who
had noticed two or three spruce trees standing on either side of
the stream, took an axe, went down there, and felling two of the
trees across the stream, made a fence that the horses could not
surmount. They could possibly get around by climbing high on the
hillside, but as all the loose ones were hobbled, it was not likely
that they would go very far up hill.
When he returned to the camp supper was ready, and before long they
were all fast asleep.
The next morning was bright and cold. No more snow had fallen.
The horses were all there, but those that had been hobbled looked
gaunt and hungry. Hugh was up before daylight and took off their
hobbles, and when the sun rose they were all busily at work getting
what must have been their supper and breakfast. When their front
feet were tied together, they could not paw through the snow to the
grass beneath.
"Now boys," said Hugh, as soon as breakfast was over, "let's saddle
up and get along. I'd like mightily to get over the range to-day,
if we can." It took but a short time to get started, for the three
had now been working together so long that they wasted no time, and
made no unnecessary motions.
Neither of the boys had noticed the night before how deep the snow
was; but to-day they could see that down here under the trees it
was eight or ten inches deep, though perhaps in the open where it
had a chance to melt or to blow off there was not so much.
As they went forward, Jack was more and more interested in the
tracks. Down at the foot of a cañon wall in the valley he saw a
series of tiny parallel dots in the snow, which he thought must
have been made by a little striped squirrel, which had run out
from the broken rock-fragments where he had his home, down nearly
to the water's edge, and then, frightened by some sight or sound,
had turned and hurried, with long bounds, back to his rocky home.
Higher up on the hill, about every weed-stalk that showed above the
surface of the snow were numbers of long parallel depressions, and
scattered about on the snow were fragments of the seed-cases of the
plants, and strips of the bark of the stem. Here the birds had been
at work, and so hard pressed for food that they had visited almost
every projecting plant.
There had been killing during the night; death had been abroad,
travelling over the barren hills, and pushing his way among the
thickly clustered pines. There had been battles and ambuscades, and
stern unrelenting pursuits; fierce struggles; resistance, feeble
and unavailing; despair, and, at last, yielding, when the hope of
escape was lost. More than one life had gone out that night on the
hillside. Here, close to the margin of a little brook, was a pile
of bright blue feathers, telling its story of death, and near it
in the light snow, long, light strokes, which told of some fierce
bird, that, in the gray light of the morning, had crushed in his
strong crooked talons a little blue-bird which was just beginning
his journey toward the south. There were tracks of a fox winding
about on the hillside, often quartering the ground like a well
trained hunting dog. He had covered much ground, and had visited
every spot that might give shelter to his prey. In one place Jack
saw the tracks of a grouse, and those of a fox following them, then
suddenly the tracks of the grouse were seen no more, the last two
sunk deep in the snow, showing where the bird had sprung from the
ground and had darted away among the snow-laden trees. A few feet
from these, Jack could see where the fox had stopped when the bird
took flight, and he could fancy how angrily the sly fellow gazed
after it as he saw his wished-for breakfast disappear. A little
further on the fox had been more lucky, and a hole dug in the snow
and a tuft or two of bluish fur showed where the keen-nosed hunter
had caught a mouse.
At the border of a grove of pines, Jack saw the impress of the
great pads of the snowshoe rabbit, scarcely sinking into the
light snow. For the most part, the rabbits kept close under the
evergreens where the snow was less deep, and food most easily to
be found; but if startled by fox or wolf, they could readily run
over the drifts, where the heavier pursuer must sink into them, far
behind.
As they climbed higher and higher, the trees grew larger, and
now they began to see, through the valley and coming down from
the higher hills on either side, the tracks of elk. The heavy
snow-fall, warning these animals of the near approach of winter,
had set them in motion down from the peaks, and everywhere trails
were seen leading from the hillside into the valley. They saw none
of the animals, for the footfalls of the pack-train clambering over
the rocks, the sound of dead branches rattling against the packs,
and the calls to the horses alarmed the elk at a distance, and they
retreated to the timber, out of sight.
Presently the climbing seemed at an end for the present, and the
valley became more open and nearly level. Not far ahead off to the
southeast they could see a low pass in the mountains, which seemed
likely to be the one they were trying to find. As they ascended,
the stream continued to grow smaller, large branches, almost equal
in size to the main brook kept coming into it, and often it was
uncertain which was the main fork. Hugh gave no hint of what was
passing in his mind, but pushed on, and the boys kept the animals
close behind him.
In this broad level valley there were more elk tracks than ever.
These, seen at a distance, were very pretty, often looking like two
delicate chains laid side by side, and running for a long distance
almost in a straight line. Sometimes the animals seemed to have
wandered about, biting off the heads of the grass and weeds that
stood above the snow; but always at last the tracks turned and kept
on down the valley. In the middle of the great meadow stood an
old pine stub, and a number of the tracks converged to this, and
then went away from it in one path. It seemed that the elk, coming
along, had gone to this stump, and rubbed against it, and then all
followed the same trail going away.
As the afternoon advanced, the valley grew narrow again and they
entered the timber, and soon afterward came on what was evidently
a trail that had been travelled both by whites and Indians. Some
of the trees were blazed with an axe, but many years ago, for the
bark had partly grown over the old blazes; there were later marks
where little three-cornered patches of the bark had been knocked
off, showing where the hard corners of packs had struck against
the trees. On one or two of the trees were seen little woolen
threads, white and red, showing where some Indian's blanket had
rubbed against the trunk and left a little sign, to remain there
for years. At length, the trail again passed out of the timber into
a narrow valley, and a sharp climb brought them to a place where
water seemed to be flowing down hill both before and behind them.
Hugh stopped and waved his hand and pointed ahead; and beyond they
could see a valley, steep-walled and full of timber, stretching off
toward the southeast.