CHAPTER VI.
A SNOWSHOE RACE.
"I tell you what," said Ben, one day when the boys were off on theirskees, "if we only had a sled, what fun we'd have down these hills!"
"Well, what's the matter with making one?" answered John, theever-ready. "It would be great; this crust is smooth as glass; we'd justfly."
At once they turned in their tracks and sped for home to carry out theirplan.
"I'll beat you in," said Ben.
"I'll bet you won't."
They started off evenly at the top of a slope. A few long,half-stepping, half-sliding strokes gave them impetus enough to slide.Both crouched now in order to lessen the wind resistance and to avoidthe chance of losing their balance. They were very evenly matched; forwhile John was the stronger, his brother was light and not so apt tobreak through the crust. Down they rushed with ever-increasing speed,the particles of snow rising like spray before them. The swishing,crunching noise grew into a hum as they sped faster and faster. At firstBen forged ahead--he had got a better start--then John's weight began totell and he gained inch by inch. Ben crouched down still lower, makinghis body in a compact little ball, but in spite of all he could do hisbrother gained on him. Now he was even, now a little ahead, and now onlyhis back could be seen by the younger. The end of his scarf was standingout behind him like a painted stick. The distance gradually increaseduntil perhaps twenty yards of glistening snow lay between them. Ben waswatching intently for any slight grade of which he might take advantage.All at once he noticed that John had disappeared.
Almost at the same moment he too began to drop. The racers had beenwatching each other so closely that neither had noticed that they wereapproaching the edge of a great drift. John had sailed over first andlanded right side up some eight feet below, but so solidly that he brokethrough the crust and stopped short, falling forward on his face. Theinstant of warning that Ben had, had put him on his guard: he landedlightly and sped on, hardly checked.
"You will beat me, eh!" he shouted derisively to his discomfitedbrother, as he shot past.
John scrambled up and started again, but the incline was now very short,and by the time he reached the level Ben was far in advance and goingwell. It was a long, stern chase. However, the older boy's strength andweight were great advantages now, and within half a mile the two were oneven terms again. For a time they raced side by side, arms swinging inunison, legs going like piston rods. Their feet were kept absolutelystraight, and so the long skates ran exactly parallel, for if eitherfoot should be turned in or out ever so lightly, one skate would crossthe other and the skater would be tangled up so quickly that he wouldnot know what was the matter.
The brothers were now sliding along side by side, each straining everynerve to pass the other; breath came in short puffs and showed on thefrosty air like the exhaust steam of a locomotive; perspiration began toappear, and the effort they were putting forth was evidenced in thestrained look on their faces.
Faster and faster they went, skimming along the level like a pair ofswallows. They were going too fast to be careful of their steps, and Benturned his right foot a little in. Instantly the skates crossed infront, tripped him, and down he went head foremost into the snow. Hisleft skee slipped off, flew towards John, caught between his legs, andthrew him over backwards. For a moment there was the utmost confusion.The boys were stretched out, heads almost buried in the snow, feetkicking wildly, and the long skees beating the air like flails. Finallythese were kicked off, and the crestfallen racers managed to get rightside up. After much floundering they got their skees on again andcontinued their journey, this time at a more deliberate pace. Theydisputed all the way home as to which was the faster, and finally agreedthat the momentous question could only be settled satisfactorily byanother match.
When they reached camp, a couple of boards, a saw, a hatchet, and somenails were secured. They sawed and chopped out the sides, nailed on acouple of cross pieces for the seat and a diagonal strip to brace thewhole thing. This much was easy, but both were at a loss to findanything for runners until Ben remembered that strips of flat steel hadbeen used on some of the canned meat boxes. These were stripped off,hammered flat, and nailed at each end to the sides of what really beganto look like a conventional sled; the seat board was fastened on andholes were bored for the leading rope.
The boys looked at their handiwork with no little pride and pronouncedit as fine a cutter as the eastern variety. To be sure it was notbeautiful to look at, and did not bear any highly nourished name like"Flyaway" or "P. D. Q.," but it did not lack decoration altogether, foron one side was branded "Use Higgins' Soap," while the othercommemorated "Ruby Brand Tomatoes."
In spite of its roughness and clumsiness it was possessed of good speedand strength enough to withstand all the ill-usage the boys gave it.When the snow was soft they used broad runners made of barrel staves,which they made fast to each side, and thus turned their sled into atoboggan.
If John and Ben wanted anything; they had to make it or earn enough tobuy it--money was not so plentiful that it could be spent on toys andmere amusements, and so they frequently had to devise ways of gettingthe things they longed for. John had made up his mind that he must havea saddle, bridle, spurs, and quirt (a short, flexible, braided whip) ofhis own; and when he found that none of these things would be given him,he determined to earn enough money to buy them. Ben, too, had set hisheart on owning a repeating rifle (a style of arm that was rather rarein those days) and so the brothers agreed to work together at trapping,mining, or turning a penny in any way that offered. The sum total wasto be divided in the spring, when each would buy the long-desiredarticles.
As spring drew near, Mr. Worth decided to move along and open anothermine to the westward, the first one being now in good working order.
Again the family packed up their household goods, abandoned the dug-outthat had sheltered them during the long winter months, and started offon a pilgrimage. The spring was well advanced and the verdure of theprairie was in its prime. Wild flowers were plentiful and the air wasfilled with the melody of the song birds, that of the meadow lark beingsweetest and most sustained. Robins, thrushes, plover, and curlews--alldid their share to make spring beautiful.
Many prairie-dog villages were passed. The queer little beasts sat onthe mounds of earth beside the holes that served for homes, theircuriosity drawing them out. The travellers took snap shots at them, butthey were as quick as lightning and never stayed above ground longenough to allow of careful aim.
John's industry had made him the proud possessor of a new saddle, whosecreaking was music in his ears, and even old Baldy seemed to be pleasedwith his finery, for he pranced around like a two-year-old and archedhis neck in a way that seemed to say, "I'm about the finest thing a-topof this earth." Ben had achieved his aim also, and was the owner of abrand-new repeating Spencer rifle, the result of the sale of thewinter's catch.
As the train went further westward the trail grew more and moreindistinct, and it became the duty of the boys to go ahead and trace itout. Later, when even the barely discernible wheel tracks haddisappeared, it was necessary for them to pick out the best route andalso to find the camp sites.
This duty was a delightful one, for new country was continually openingbefore them, and adventures of all kinds might offer at any moment.
"Ain't those antelopes over there by that little hill?" said John oneday, pointing to one side.
"That's right," answered Ben. "What's the matter with chasing them?" Hespoke with the authority of the hunter. Possessing the rifle, noopportunity to exploit it was ever allowed to slip; nor, if the truth betold, was John slow in calling attention to his saddle, spurs, andfringed leather chaps.
"All right," said John. "We've never been on an antelope hunt alone."
The boys went off at right angles from the direction they had beentaking and rode down a shallow ravine or coulie in order to keep out ofsight of the game. They rode slowly along till they reached the end ofthe depression; he
re they dismounted and each tied the forelegs of hishorse with the rope he carried on his saddle-horn: they were not goingto travel afoot again if they could help it. It was now necessary tocross the open prairie in plain view of the animals they sought.Advantage was taken of a well-known characteristic of antelopes--theircuriosity. John pulled the handkerchief from his neck and began to waveit slowly to and fro over his head as he walked. Ben followed in hisbrother's tracks, making himself as inconspicuous as possible andfingering the lock of his repeater to be sure that it was in goodworking order.
The boys drew nearer and nearer, and the flagging was kept uppersistently; but it did not seem to have any effect, for the animalswere all looking the other way. Still they drew nearer; their eyes werefixed on their quarry, the rifle held ready, every nerve tense, eachheart beating furiously with excitement.
ROPING AN UNBROKEN HORSE.]
Then it was seen that the antelopes were attracted by the white tops ofthe wagons, which were moving slowly along over the plain. The wagontrain was "flagging" them. Now if the hunters could get within rangebefore the spell of curiosity had been satisfied, all would be well.
The boys moved cautiously along till they came to a sunken "buffalowallow," a muddy place frequented by the bison for the sake of themoisture. This afforded the shelter that was needed. Attracted by theflapping canvas wagon-tops, the unsuspecting animals drew slowly nearthe hiding place.
"Oh! if they would only come just a little closer," said Ben under hisbreath, "I'd have them sure."
Once they stopped and sniffed the air, but just as Ben was about tochance a long-distance shot, they moved on again.
"Now, Ben!" said John, excitedly.
For an instant the stock of the rifle rested closely against the boy'scheek--then the shot rang out. Almost simultaneously the biggest of theherd leaped into the air, then fell flat to the ground. The others stoodstill, bewildered.
"Good! Now for another one," whispered John. Again the rifle was raisedand again its deadly crack sounded forth. Another antelope bounded up,ran frantically a few yards, and dropped. At this the rest of the herdmade off like the wind, and in a few minutes were mere specks on thehorizon.
"Well, I must say," said Ben, exultingly, "I thought once that I wouldrather have your saddle and outfit, but now--" he slapped the stock ofhis rifle affectionately--"I wouldn't swap if you gave me Baldy toboot."
"Baldy to boot, eh? Why, I wouldn't swap that horse for a whole stack ofrifles." And John moved off in indignation to get the horses, while Benwent over to the spot where the game lay.
The carcasses were packed on Ben's horse, both boys mounting Baldy. Theywere welcomed heartily at the camp, for fresh meat was at a premium, andany change of diet was an event of prime importance.
"That gun of yours must be chained lightning," said Ted. "I didn'tsuppose you could hit the side of a hill at fifty yards."
Many days of travelling followed over country that had apparently neverbeen covered by a wagon before.
During this long journey the boys came to know the men of the party verywell. They were apt to be sharply divided into good and bad, for inthose rough times people showed their real characters without reserve.
Charley Green still continued with the company, and he was the boys'greatest friend; but Tom Malloy, who joined the expedition just beforeit started out for the new camp, soon got into John's good graces. Hewas a man of varied talents: a gambler and saloon keeper when times weregood; a miner, cow-puncher, or hunter when his money ran out. Rough,quick-tempered, and as ready with his fists as with his "gun," he wasnevertheless possessed of a great heart and a loyalty to his friendsthat nothing could shake. Like many of his race he loved a fight anddelighted to have a lively "argument" with a man. John's boldness andaggressiveness pleased him greatly, and he looked the boy over,enumerating his good points over to himself: his broad chest, sturdylegs and arms, his clear eyes and fearless look all showed to Malloy'sexperienced eye that he would make a first-rate boxer.
"I'll show that youngster how to put up his hands sure," he said tohimself.
It was a tiresome journey, long and monotonous, but enlivened now andthen by a hunt or an excursion. The train was to go by way of the HartRiver road, and it seemed to the younger members of the expedition as ifit would never be reached. But find it at last they did, a few wagonruts not very clear nor strongly marked.
The boys' task was now much easier, for the way was marked plainlybefore them and it was comparatively smooth travelling. Many wideexcursions were made on either side of the trail, and many huntingexpeditions were indulged in. Ben became a very good shot, and theconstant supply of fresh meat gave evidence of his skill.
After many days' journey the "Bad Lands" were reached. That desolatecountry, scarred and pitted, was void of vegetation except on thebottoms and near the infrequent water courses. Here the wagon roaddisappeared altogether, and the pioneers found it necessary in manycases practically to build one, to level some places and make inclinesdown steep banks at others. Often all the teams had to be hitched to onewagon in order to drag it up a sharp ascent or through a miry place.
In many spots the ground was very treacherous, especially at the edge ofa cut. The soil was loose, pliable stuff, liable to give way under theweight of a horse. Badger and gopher holes added to the danger byundermining the banks in unexpected places.
One morning John was sent out on Baldy (his constant companion andfaithful friend) to pick out, if possible, an easier way. Boy and horsestarted out on a smart trot, each having full confidence in theother--as was necessary, for almost as much depended on the sagacity ofthe steed in the matter of picking a way on dangerous ground as in theintelligence of the rider. It was a task of considerable responsibilitythat was put on John's shoulders; the route was difficult enough topuzzle a professional civil engineer. Baldy was left to find his own waywhile his rider looked ahead to choose a road that could be travelled bythe wagons. From time to time it became necessary to go down the almostperpendicular side of a coulie, when the horse would hunch hishind-legs, keeping his forelegs stiff and stretched out to their fullestextent. Then he would fairly slide down on his tail.
John had found a place that he thought suitable for the night's camp,had traced out a way by which it might be reached, and had turned hispony back towards the wagons.
He thought to himself, as they slid down one bank and scrambled up theother, that it would be a bad place to be thrown. The surface waspitted with half-concealed badger holes, and in the bottoms were manyspots where a horse might easily be mired. Baldy, however, knew hisbusiness and carried his rider over awkward places safely. John wascongratulating himself on the successful conclusion of his errand whenhe came to the bank of what was in the early spring a roaring torrent,but which now lacked even a trickle of water. To the edge of this cutBaldy approached cautiously. John, anxious to get back to the wagons andreport, urged him on. With a shake of his head that seemed to say:"Well, you are the boss, so here goes; but I don't like the looks ofit," the pony went forward, gathering his hind legs under him to makehis usual slide--when the ground beneath him gave way. Horse and riderwent rolling down the slope, but as John felt himself falling heloosened his foot from the stirrup and leaped off, just in time. Boy andsteed arrived at the bottom about the same time, but separately. John'smouth, eyes, nose, and ears were full of dirt and dried grass; in fact,he always declared that he ate his proverbial peck of dirt then, all atonce; but he soon discovered that, barring a few bruises and a badlyhurt pride, he was all right. As soon as he got the dust out of his eyesand realized that the earth had not risen, out of special spite againsthim, he looked for his horse, and was much relieved to find that hisfour-footed partner had received nothing more than a bad shaking up.Baldy's attitude, however, was anything but dignified. His feet werewaving in air, his head was buried in the loose soil, his body was socovered with mother earth that he seemed like some strange freak ofnature. As the boy got up, the horse looked at him, he thought,repr
oachfully and seemed to say: "I told you so."
"CROW HAT'S FACING THIS WAY." (_Page 117._)]
THE INDIAN CAMP. (_Page 116._)]
"Yes, old chap," replied John aloud, "you do know a thing or two, andI'll trust you more next time."
John never told of his mistake and tumble, but explained the dustyappearance of himself and horse by reference to the well-knowncharacteristic of the "Bad Lands," its stifling alkali dust.