CHAPTER III
THE FIRST GOOD LUCK
One side of the cabin had a couple of rude but serviceable bunks builtin the wall. Here the boys arranged their blankets; and thus prepared toput in their first night in camp with a roof over their heads.
They already saw where they would have numerous things to do in order tofeel comfortable when the snows of early winter struck them; but therewould be plenty of time for all that, as the days glided on.
After all, the night proved to be a quiet one, in spite of Tom'sexpressed fear that the swinging body of the cat might attract others ofits species, who, gathering around, might think to hold a regular "wake"over the remains.
In fact, neither of them heard anything from the time they lay downuntil dawn came, and with it a desire for breakfast.
Feeling considerably refreshed, the two comrades set about accomplishingsome of the numerous duties that had been laid out for the day.
Breakfast disposed of, they started to fix up the interior of the dugoutshack, so as to make it seem more comfortable. Dozens of little thingsneeded to be done. The roof showed signs of wear in several places, andhad to be patched against the time when the cold winds would whistle andmoan around the corners the livelong night, trying to get a nip at theirtoes and fingers.
During the morning, then, they were constantly busy, and before nooncame around the camp looked a thousand per cent more cheerful.
"Begins to seem like somebody lived here, eh?" remarked Tom, as helooked about him with a satisfied air; he was rather "fussy" about howhe did things, never being content to have them just "passable;" thebest was none too good for him, Tom always declared; meaning that ifanything was worth doing at all, it was worth doing well.
Tom had taken off the skin of the wildcat which was making a den of thedugout at the time of their arrival. This he had stretched in the properfashion, over a thin piece of board, many of which they found in acorner of the place, having evidently served Old Sol for years in thesame way.
Strange to say, Tom, knowing the secrets of trappers had not cut theskin underneath at all but turned it inside-out; this is called"casing," and the skin is dried with the flesh side out. Besideswildcat, a few other animals are also treated this way, notably 'possum,muskrat, mink and otter. As for beaver, raccoon, marten, fox, lynx,wolf, coyote and skunk, these may be slit underneath, and when stretchedon the board, the hair is allowed to be on the outer side.
They are never cured near a fire or in the sun; the shade, where thewind can get at them being much more preferable, if "prime" orfirst-class pelts are desired; and of course that is the aim of everytrapper.
Of course, one of the first things both boys had done on this morningwas to take a look for signs of the bear Tom had heard passing in thenight. The experienced Western lad had no difficulty in finding thetracks, and he showed his chum how the animal, after standing at acertain point, evidently sniffing in the direction of the smoke thatcame from their chimney, had made an abrupt turn, and headed once morefor the neighboring defiles of the mountains, evidently not caring toremain in the vicinity of man, whom his instinct told him must always bethe mortal enemy of his species.
"He was a bully big grizzly, too, all right, Felix!" announced Tom,pointing to the tremendous size of the footprints, with the marks ofterrible claws showing; for a bear, like a dog, lacks the peculiarability of the cat tribe to draw back its claws entirely except whenneeded.
Felix looked rather longingly toward the great rocky uplifts that seemedso very close by, although he well knew it was quite likely to prove alittle undertaking, reaching any of the gulches and canyons that piercedthe massive barrier.
"Not today, but soon, I hope," he remarked, turning with a smile towardTom.
"That's right," remarked the other, "all in good time. We must first ofall manage the eating end; or before we know it we won't have any meatin the cabin. Then we want to look up Old Sol's cache, where he's gotsome of his traps hid away. I'd just like to set a few of the same, tosee if the luck holds good. And when, after a while, the spirit movesus, why, we'll start out to get that grizzly you've been dreaming aboutso long."
So Felix put the thought out of his head, and determined to abide histime. As he so often said, when some companion tried to make unduespeed, "Rome wasn't built in a day," and the more haste the less speedto the end.
"How about that cache?" asked Felix, along about the noon hour, as theysat and rested up a bit after working faithfully all morning at manytasks.
"That's a fact!" exclaimed Tom, jumping up again in a hurry; "I'd letthat slip my mind. And I'm a whole lot curious to know how the steelcontraptions have stood the three years that have gone by since Old Solwas up here."
"Didn't you say he wanted you to try and lug the traps back, when westarted for home again?" inquired the other boy.
"He said he had an enduring affection for the traps, and that if wecould manage to carry a few, he'd think it just prime. I suppose an oldfellow does kind of get attached to anything he's handled so long.P'raps some of the traps have histories, too. And since we expect tomake a sledge, and pull all our stuff over the snow to where we agreedto meet Frazer on Christmas day, why, chances are, we can take the wholecaboodle out of the mountains. I know it would tickle the old man a lot,and he's been mighty kind to me, let me tell you, Felix."
"Oh! we can do that easy enough," returned Felix, always ready tooblige; "when we leave here there'll be plenty of snow; and with ourshoes we can make good time, picking out a day that's suited to thework."
Tom went over to the lower bunk. Getting down on his hands and knees hereached underneath, and presently drew forth what seemed to be a rudelymade box. This he had some difficulty in opening, and when the top wasfinally pried off they found that the traps had been wrapped, each one,in an old, poor quality skin, that seemed to be in a pretty good stateof preservation.
Of course Old Sol had expected to be up there again on the followingFall, when he put his traps away like this; and never dreamed that threeyears would slip by before the cache was opened. But he had carefullygreased them with bear's fat, and as a whole they were looking verydecent.
Altogether they made quite an assortment when Tom laid them out. The boyhandled them almost with reverence. He knew that, as he had said before,each one must have a history. Many a story could they tell, if thosegrim-looking jaws could only speak--stories of captured wild animalsgalore, and of more than one fierce fight before the prisoner finallygave up the ghost.
"Tomorrow, perhaps, we can get several of these placed," Tom remarked,as, having hung the traps up from pegs in the wall, he startedpreparations looking to having some warm lunch, for the day was quitecold. "If I go out for a little turn this afternoon, as you said, why,I'll keep my eyes about me for likely places. Sol, in his many storiesabout his life up here, gave me more than a few hints about the favoriteplaces he had for certain animals. I rather guess this place must havebeen his pet camp, and he used several in his day."
Felix was not quite recovered from his fatigue, and hence it had beenagreed between them that perhaps he would be wise to stay in camp, andlet Tom take the first look for meat.
Tom was as tough as a pine-knot. He had been used to roughing it all hislife, and hardly knew such a thing as getting real tired. Besides, as hehad known Old Sol personally, the chances were he would be able to finda deer more quickly than his cousin might. With that rough chart toguide him, and the stories of the old trapper still fresh in his mind,Tom believed he had a pretty comprehensive idea concerning the lay ofthe land, even before he had taken one step towards exploring thevicinity.
"The woods ought to be good enough for me," he had said; "and I hope tobring back a load of juicy venison; but if I don't strike up with mydeer, why, we'll just have to fall back on that piece of ham that's leftover."
"I hope not," remarked Felix, with a shrug; "I'm just tired of ham andbacon for a steady diet, and ache to have a piece of venison between myteeth. So here's wishing you
the best luck ever, Tom, which is saying agood word for myself, too."
When Tom shouldered his gun, and took one last look at the now cozyinterior of the cabin, he smiled back at his chum.
"Let me tell you, Felix," he remarked, "it looks good to me already; andI just know we're going to have the best sort of time up here, if onlywe manage to keep the wolf from the door."
"I'll do all I can to assist," laughingly responded Felix, littledreaming how shortly circumstances, just then utterly unseen, wouldbring these words of his companion forcibly before his mind.
"If you feel like it, Felix, you might be cutting up that big limb thatwas torn off the tree in some storm; we can't have too big a pile offire wood, against the coming of winter, you know; and once we get astring of traps to look after, the less time we have to spend inchopping wood, the better."
And with these words, followed by a cheery wave of his chum's hand, Tomstrode off for his first side hunt. They really were in need of freshmeat. Some five days had passed since leaving home, and with three tofeed part of the time, this had made a little hole in the stock ofprovisions brought along with them.
Tom had done a great deal of hunting, and was familiar with most of thetricks resorted to by those who are most successful in getting game. Ofcourse he took occasion to notice the direction of the wind beforeleaving the cabin. It would be the height of folly to try and stalk adeer with the breeze blowing his scent directly to the delicate nostrilsof his intended quarry, for the wary animal must detect his presencelong before he could hope to get within gunshot, and as a consequencewould be off "like a streak of greased lightning," as Tom himself putit.
As he went along, the boy kept his eyes about him, observing numerousthings of a nature to interest a hunter and trapper. The sigh of thewind through the tree-tops was sweetest music in the ears of Tom Tucker;many a night had it lulled him to sleep when in the woods; or stealingsoftly over the grassy prairie, where the cattle grazed, it had carriedwith it the chirp of crickets and katydids and all the other familiarsounds of a summer night on the range.
Never a leaf came floating to the ground near him but that his quick eyesought it out instinctively. If some little squirrel rustled the leaves,his ear was on the alert, even as his eager finger touched the triggerof his gun, ready for a shot at a bounding black-tail deer.
So Tom went on for perhaps an hour.
He was not more than half a mile away from the camp at most, since hehad considered it good policy to make a half circle, covering as muchground as possible in this, his first tramp.
So far he had seen nothing worth shooting at, though signs of deer hadcaught his watchful eye numerous times; and he felt sure they used thesegrounds for feeding purposes, as there were patches of green grass everylittle while.
And then, all of a sudden, there was a loud rustle of the leaves thatsent a thrill through the young hunter. He saw a deer leap over a fallentree with all the ease in the world, and start to bound away, takinggreat springs. Instinct rather than anything else caused Tom to throwhis rifle to his shoulder; and then he fired, just as the buck turnedslightly in order to avoid some obstruction, which Tom had already knownwould make him veer.
With a crash the deer went down. Throwing another cartridge into thefiring chamber of his gun, Tom started full speed toward the spot, readyto finish his quarry, if such a thing proved necessary; for he had knowndeer to get up again, full of fight, after being thrown to the ground bya shot.
But that first well-placed ball had accomplished its work. The buck wasdead by the time Tom reached the spot, pleased with his success, whichhe looked upon as a splendid sign of future luck.
As the afternoon was well along, and he would have half a mile to "tote"his burden, the boy lost no time in setting to work removing the skin ofthe animal, and then cutting the deer up, so as to secure the choiceportions, including of course the two haunches.
Outside of the hams and perhaps the shoulders there is not a great dealabout a deer worth taking; so in due time Tom had packed all he wantedin the hide, which he made up into a compact bundle, and threw over hisshoulder.
Thus loaded, and in a happy frame of mind, he started in the directionof camp. Never once during his hour's tramp had Tom been compelled toguess where the dugout lay. The woods were as an open book to him, soaccustomed was he to unconsciously noting many little things aroundhim--the moss on the trees; the way the forest monarchs inclined awayfrom the prevailing storms that came from the west in this region,sweeping down the sides of the mountains; with these and many othersigns to tell him, a hunter can read locations as easily as you or Imight a printed page in a book.
Tom had been moving along a short time in this way when suddenly hestopped to listen. The report of a gun had been borne to his ears, andfrom the direction of the camp, though the breeze was not favorable forcarrying sounds.
"Hello!" he started to remark; when to his surprise a second shotfollowed the first, and quickly came a third.
By this time Tom was excited. He fancied that this might be a signalcalling for help, as is well known among woodsmen, and cattle rustlers.Thoughts of the rough characters said to be somewhere in this vicinity,after being run out of Yellowstone Park by the soldiers guarding thepreserves, flashed into his mind.
And so Tom, hastily throwing his pack up over a limb, where it would besafe for a while at least, and carefully noting the spot, so he couldfind the meat again, started on a wild run for the location of Old Sol'shideout.