CHAPTER I.
BACK TO THE RANCH.
The train rushed down the hill, with a long shrieking whistle, and thenbegan to go more and more slowly. Thomas had brushed Jack off andthanked him for the coin that he put in his hand, and with the bag inone hand and the stool in the other now went out onto the platform anddown the steps, Jack closely following. The train had almost stopped,and Jack bent forward over the porter's head to try to see the platformand to learn who was there to meet him. Suddenly he caught sight ofthree horses grazing not far from the station, and he shouted, "Oh,there's Pawnee! Look, Thomas! that's my riding-horse; that brown withthe saddle on."
"That's yours, is it, Master Jack? He's a good one; I can see that fromhere. Are you going to ride out to the ranch?"
"I don't know," said Jack, "but we must be, I guess." And then, as hejumped down off the step and saw Hugh walking toward him, he shouted,"Hello, Hugh! I'm glad you've come for me. Isn't this bully? Good-bye,Thomas." And, taking his bag, he started running to meet Hugh.
"Well," said the old man, as he gave him a cordial hand clasp, "I amsure glad to see you, son. You got here all right, and on time. Didn'thave no accidents, I expect?"
"No," said Jack, "I'm all right. Isn't it great to be here again. Idon't know when I've been so glad before. I've been thinking about thistime ever since I left here last fall."
"Well," said Hugh, "we're all right glad to have you come back again. Idon't expect you've got any baggage except this, and there ain't nothingto wait for; we might go over and put the bag on the pack-horse, andstart. I've been here ever since last night, and I've had enough of thistown."
"We're going to ride then, are we? That's better fun than going in thewagon. I thought when I saw Pawnee that maybe that was the way you'dfixed it."
"Yes," said Hugh, "I expect you ain't done much riding since you lefthere, and we've got a long way to go, and I thought maybe it would be agood thing to begin breaking you in to the saddle right off. How does itsuit you?"
"Splendid," said Jack. "We can make better time on horseback than wecould in the wagon, and I'm mighty anxious to get to the ranch and seeeverybody again. How's the elk?"
"He's all right; fat, and just about half shed off; he looks kind o'ragged, but before long, when his old coat's gone, he'll be smooth assilk and pretty as a picture."
"That's good, and how are the ducks?"
"They're all right, too," said Hugh, "barring a couple that got killedonly a few days ago. I don't rightly know what 'twas that killed 'em,but I reckon 'twas a bob-cat. I seen the tracks of one in the brush thelast snow we had, and a few days afterward one of your ducks disappearedone day while they was out down to the brook, and two days afterward theold black tom-cat was gone, and two or three days afterward anotherduck. I never did see anything of the ducks, but I found the bones ofthe old tom-cat up in the brush a little while afterward, and there wasa lot of fur in his claws, and it was bob-cat hair. Since that secondduck got taken I haven't let them birds out except when I was there towatch 'em, and keep my eye on 'em all the time."
"I'm sorry those ducks got killed," said Jack, "I was in hopes they'dbreed this year, and we'd have a lot of young ones."
"Well, maybe they will, but they've got to be watched, or else they'vegot to have some sort of a pen built for 'em, because you see, theycan't fly, and it's mighty easy for anything to catch 'em."
By this time they were close to the horses, and Jack ran up to Pawneeand began to talk to him and pat him. The horse put his ears forward andarched his neck over Jack's shoulder, rubbing his head against him, asif he really knew who it was and was glad to see the boy back again.Meantime, Hugh was gathering up the ropes, and coiling them and puttingthem on the saddles. He bridled his own horse, and Jack did the same forPawnee, both throwing down the reins; then the cinches of the packsaddle were tightened, and the bag quickly lashed in place.
"You better put your gun in your scabbard, son, and put some cartridgesin your pocket; might be such a thing as you'd see something you'd wantto shoot." Jack did so, and then they mounted and started off at a goodlope over the prairie. Jack's heart was swelling with delight as he feltthe cool wind on his face, and smelt again the odour of the sage, andsaw the familiar birds rising from the ground and flying ahead, andalighting again in the road before them.
"I saw quite a lot of antelope from the train as we came along thismorning, Hugh," he said. "I suppose there are plenty of 'em out at theranch."
"Oh, yes, there's plenty of antelope. That bunch that used to live overin the pasture have just come back, and will be there all summer, Iexpect."
"Have you killed much game this winter?" said Jack.
"Well, no," was the reply, "not what you'd call much. We've had freshmeat right along, elk and blacktail and antelope. Early in the winter,just before we had that big storm, I went over to Point-of-rocks andkilled three sheep; that's about the only thing out of ordinary that'sbeen done."
"Three sheep! I wish I could get a chance to kill one. I've never evenseen a sheep, and I want to get a shot at one most awfully."
"Well," said Hugh, "likely while we're up north we'll get a chance to;there's plenty of sheep in the Missouri River bad lands, and in thebluffs of the Yellowstone, and of course in the mountains. The Piegans,you know, don't go much into the mountains, but they kill quite somesheep in the bad lands, and on some of the buttes. Now, the Sweet GrassHills are a great place for sheep; we're likely after we get to thePiegans to camp close to them, and maybe we can make a hunt up there fortwo or three days. I ain't a mite afeared but what you'll have chancesat sheep before summer's over."
"Gracious! buffalo and sheep! That would be enough hunting for onesummer, I should think. You're sure that when we go north we'll haveplenty of buffalo hunting?"
"Lord, yes," said Hugh, "there'll be buffalo a plenty long after you andI are both dead."
By this time they had passed through the breaks and crossed the river,and come up over the hill, so that they could see the great lonemountain, where the road turned off to the right. "Oh, there's Bent RockMountain! that looks good, don't it, with the gray rocks and the blackcedars scattered all over it. Now, there are sheep there, Hugh; don'tyou ever hunt there?"
"No," said Hugh; "there's a little bunch of sheep there, but they'remighty hard to get at, and I don't bother with 'em."
They rode on down the hill at a swinging canter, splashed through thestream, turned to the right and went up by the mountain, past the placewhere about a year before Jack had seen his first grizzly, and thenturning to the left, galloped along across the undulating sage-brushprairie. The pack horse all the time was following close at theirheels; his load was light and he knew that he was going home, andrequired no driving.
Suddenly, as they rode over the crest of one of the prairie swells,which gave a little wider view than most of them, Jack saw quite closeto them a cow running hard, with head down and tongue out, and right ather heels a big wolf, and a little behind that, another. Just as theycame in sight, the leading wolf sprang forward and caught the cow by theflank, and though it seemed impossible that so small an animal shouldthrow one so large, the cow fell prone upon the prairie. While all thiswas passing before Jack's eyes, Hugh's horse stopped, his rider swungout of the saddle, his gun came to his shoulder, and as the smoke leapedfrom it, the second wolf fell. Jack had not been long enough on theprairie to act quite as quickly as Hugh; it took him a second or two todrag his gun from its scabbard and to spring from his horse, but thewolf that had pulled down the cow had not run more than a few yardsbefore he fired at it; it gave a dismal howl, but still kept on; he shotagain, and again the wolf yelled, but still it ran. It was almost on topof the hill now, when Hugh fired, and it disappeared. They jumped intotheir saddles and rode to the place, and found the wolf just kicking inthe death struggle.
"Well," said Hugh, "that's a good job, anyhow. There's been a heap o'wolves round this winter, and I'm glad we got these two. I wish we'dcome a minute earlier, so's to
have saved that cow."
"Do you think she's dead, Hugh?" said Jack.
"I expect so," said Hugh. "I've seen a heap o' cattle killed by justone bite from a wolf; often it didn't seem if 'twas a bad bite either.I've sometimes thought that maybe they was just scared to death. Iexpect, though, we'll find that cow dead." By this time the wolf hadceased to struggle, and Hugh, picking it up, threw it across his saddle,and they walked back to the cow and the other wolf, which lay withinthree feet of each other. As Hugh had thought, the cow was dead, thoughthe wound in her flank did not seem to be a severe one. Evidently shehad been chased for some distance, for on her neck and shoulders therewas froth from the mouth, showing that she had run a long way. Hughturned her over and looked at the brand on her side. "Well," he said,"it's one of Powell's cows. The wolves do seem to pick out his cows, anddo him a heap o' harm. Nice cow, too; in good order. I hate to see thisbeef go to waste. I believe I'll butcher her, so she won't spoil, andmaybe your uncle will want to send down a wagon to-morrow and bring themeat into camp. While I'm doing that, do you expect you could skin oneof them wolves? I reckon you'd like to save them hides; they're inpretty fair order, for they haven't begun to shed out much yet. Whileyou're doing it you might look and see where your bullets hit the wolfyou shot at. I expect I can tell you why he didn't fall right off whenyou shot. You're out of practice, and you drawed your sight too coarse.You hit him both times, but kind o' creased him instead of hitting himwhere the life lay. You ain't forgot how to shoot, but you've got tolearn your gun over again."
While Hugh was opening the cow and removing the entrails, Jack took outhis pocket knife and began to skin the wolf. Luckily he had had hisknife sharpened just before he left home, and so he worked pretty fast,and before Hugh had left the cow and begun to skin the other wolf, Jackwas half through with his. They finished skinning at about the sametime, and Hugh tied the two hides on the pack-horse; then he lit a pipe,sat down and smoked for a while.
"I don't grudge the time we took to kill these wolves," he said."Killing wolves is part of the work on a ranch, just like taking calvesout of a snow-bank, or branding colts is. It's something that's got tobe did, and like all other work it takes time. Where did you find thembullet holes of yours, son?"
"I found them just where you said they'd be, Hugh. One of them had justcut the skin on the back, and the other went through just over theshoulders, and nicked one of the shoulder-blades."
"That's what I thought," said Hugh; "you've got to fire a few shots andlearn over again just how to hold your gun, if you want to drive nails.Now, let's go along. I'd like to get to the ranch as near supper time aswe can."
They mounted and rode on. The wind was now blowing so hard that,although they rode side by side, they could not talk to each otherwithout shouting. The horses were fat and fresh, and mile after miledisappeared swiftly under their ringing hoofs. Every few minutes Jacksaw some place that was familiar to him, and wanted to ask Hughsomething about it, but a few attempts convinced him that it was uselessto try to talk in the wind. Now and then a bunch of antelope were seenoff to one side, or a jack-rabbit jumped up from under a sage brush, andraced off, or a single sage-hen rose from the ground and scaled off downthe wind. As they climbed more slowly the divide which led up to thevalley where the ranch was situated they passed through a village ofprairie dogs. These had not long since awakened from their winter sleep,and were busy plucking the young grass, now just appearing above theground, and only those nearest the road paid any attention to thehorsemen. Now and then little bunches of horses were passed, still cladin their winter coats, which hung down a hand's breadth below theirchins and necks and bellies. With them they could see now and then tinycolts, which kept close to their mothers' sides, feeling that only therewere they out of danger. At the edge of the dog town a badger was seen,nosing along through the sage brush, and Jack reached down his hand toget his gun, but looking at Hugh saw him shake his head, and understoodthat he did not wish to wait.
The sun had nearly reached the western mountains when they rode downinto the Swiftwater Valley, and though they galloped along at a goodpace, it was long after dark before the lights of the ranch house mettheir eyes. A little later they halted before the barn.
"Now, son, you're here again, and this time I expect you don't need nolooking after. We'll unsaddle here; you hang your things up on the oldpeg, and we'll leave the horses in the stalls to-night."
A few moments later, carrying their guns and Jack's bag, they steppedinto the kitchen of the ranch, and were warmly welcomed by all hands.