CHAPTER IX
RIFLES AND PONIES
After having been well rubbed down by the guide, and given a steamingcup of tea, Walter was put to bed, protesting stubbornly that he wasall right and that their attentions were unnecessary.
But Lige Thomas was firm.
"You'll be that lame, to-morrow, you can't reach a stirrup. I want youto be fit, for we have a long journey ahead of us."
Walter soon fell into a deep sleep, while Tad and Ned, too full of theevents of the night to go to sleep at once, sat by the camp firediscussing the stirring scenes through which they had so recentlypassed, until the deep, rhythmic snores of Stacy Brown reminded themthat they, too, should seek their pine bough cots if they intended toget any more rest that night.
Next morning the camp slept late in spite of itself--that is, allsave Lige Thomas. He was up with the sun, busying himself with gettingthe outfit ready for a prompt start.
At nine o'clock the guide routed them out, and the boys, after washingthemselves in the cool, refreshing waters of a little mountain stream,announced themselves as ready to eat anything that might be placedbefore them.
Walter, still pale from his recent experience, but smiling happily,took his place with the rest and ate as heartily as they did of thecrisp bacon that Jose had prepared.
"Now that you young gentleman are all together, it's a good time togive you some advice," said Lige.
"Guess I'm the one who needs it most," laughed Walter.
"He's had his already," chuckled Chunky Brown.
"But yours is still coming to you," added Ned maliciously.
"You must keep in mind that these mountains are full of danger,"continued the guide. "Even an experienced mountaineer sometimes goeswrong, losing his life as the result. So, before any one of you takesa step, be sure that your foot is going to land on something solid. Aswe get up into the Park Range you will find the country rougher, andstill more caution will be necessary. But you're going to be allright. You boys have the right sort of stuff in you. Not many fellowsof Master Tad's age would have had the courage to do what he did lastnight."
Tad Butler flushed a rosy red, and devoted his attention to his bacon.
"Yes, he saved my life," breathed Walter. "You all did your sharetoo."
"There's one thing I should like to do more than anything else,"interrupted Ned, changing the subject.
"And that?" inquired the Professor.
"To shoot a bear."
"Wow!" exclaimed Chunky.
"And so should I," agreed Tad, his blue eyes opening wide. "Thebiggest thing I ever shot was a woodchuck."
"You will have a chance to do some hunting soon," replied theguide. "We shall be on the hunting grounds in a day or so, if we havegood luck, and none of you falls off a mountain. Then I am going toshow you some real sport."
"Oh, that will be fine," chorused the boys.
"I believe I should like to try my hand at it, too," added theProfessor. "Do you know, young gentlemen, I have not been on a huntingtrip since I hunted wild boar in the Black Forest with General vonMoltke! You may talk about the savagery of your native bear. But, forreal brutality, I recommend the wild boar."
"Yes, but wait a minute," objected Ned Rector, his face sobering."How are we going to hunt? We have no guns to hunt with.Mr. Thomas has the only rifle in the party."
"That's so," agreed Tad. "I hadn't thought of that. I should havebrought my old rifle with me."
The guide smiled good-naturedly and motioned to Jose.
"Do you know where that long package marked 'hard tack' is, Jose?" heasked.
The cook said he did.
"Bring it to me," directed Lige so low that the others did not catchhis words.
The package was placed on the ground at Lige's side a moment later.
"What is it?" asked Chunky, stretching his neck so he could look overthe table.
"Your curiosity will be the death of you some day if you don't correctthe habit," warned Ned. "If you'll use your eyes you will observe thatthe package contains hard tack, and----"
However, something in the shape of the four wrapped objects taken fromthe bundle, and laid on the ground, did not exactly correspond withtheir idea of what hard tack looked like.
The boys rose full of curiosity.
"Wha--what----" gasped Ned.
"It's--guns!" fairly shouted Tad Butler.
Sure enough, it was.
Undoing the other three packages, the guide laid before theirastonished eyes four handsome thirty-eight calibre repeating rifles.
The boys looked at each other questioningly.
At first they could scarcely believe it to be true.
"Are--are they for us--for us to use?" stammered Tad.
"That's what they're for, young gentlemen," smiled the guide. "Yousurely didn't expect to go hunting without guns, did you? At theProfessor's suggestion I have been keeping them as a sort of surprisefor you."
"Three cheers for Lige Thomas and Professor Zepplin," cried NedRector, in which the boys joined with a will, their shouts echoingback to them from the rocky peaks on the other side of the gulch.
"Rifles and ponies! We surely ought to be happy!" laughed Tad, withflashing eyes. "Any boy with those two things wouldn't change placeswith a king, would he, fellows?"
"No!" answered the Pony Riders at the top of their voices. "Not evenfor a whole monarchy!"
Lige was beset by a perfect clamor of questions as to when they wereto have a chance to try the guns on real game.
"One at a time--one at a time," begged the guide. "First I must findout how well you boys can shoot. Has any of you ever handled a gunbefore?"
"I have," spoke up Tad promptly.
"And I," added Ned Rector.
"I've done a little shooting with my thirty-two calibre," saidWalter. "But I don't call myself much of a shot."
"And how about you, Master Stacy?" smiled the guide.
"I? Why, I can shoot a bull's eye with a how and arrow. But somehow,when I try to fire a real gun, I can't help shutting my eyes beforethe thing goes off."
"That's bad."
"Then I don't hit anything--that is, not the thing I want to hit,"he added humorously, at which there was a loud laugh from the otherboys.
"Won't do at all," decided the guide with a shake of the head. "Youwill have to learn to do better than that before we take you out."
"Yes, he'll have to before I go gunning with him," growled NedRector. "Any man who shuts his eyes when he's getting ready to shoot,is no friend of mine, especially if I happen to be in theneighborhood."
"Yes," agreed Lige. "We'll have to go out for a littlepractice--this morning if you wish. I guess we can spare thetime. But we must not waste too much of it, as we have an eighteenmile journey ahead of us over a rough trail, and I want to reach BaldMountain before night.
To-morrow will be Sunday, and we must have a nice camping place, asyou will want to rest and get ready for the busy week ahead of us. Atany rate, you boys can try out the guns this morning and get thesights regulated. Jose bring me a box of those thirty-eights, willyou?"
Wistful glances were cast at the pasteboard box, as the boys fondledthe guns, worked the cartridge ejectors, examined the magazines andlooked over the sights at imaginary game.
"Better fall to, now, and strike camp, so the pack train can go onahead," advised the guide. "When we finish shooting you can strap yourguns to the saddles, or carry them over your backs, as youprefer. You see they have a leather on them for the purpose."
There were no doubts in the minds of the Pony Riders as to how theywould carry the weapons. As they set about obeying the instructions ofthe guide, they pictured themselves riding over the mountains like atroop of cavalry, rifles hanging across their backs, following thetrail of a band of real Indians.
The camp was struck in record time that morning, and the tents, neatlyrolled, soon were strapped to the backs of the sleepy burros. Joseattended to the packin
g of the commissary.
"I think we are ready, Mr. Thomas," announced Tad, their task havingbeen completed.
The boys shouldered their guns proudly.
"Oh, yes; there is something else that goes with it," advised Lige,after glancing critically over the boys and their outfits. "I hadalmost forgotten it. Fine general I'd make in war time!"
The guide ran to the cook tent which Jose was packing, returning in amoment with another of those mysterious packages.
By now the Pony Riders were worked up to a high pitch of excitementand anticipation.
"What have you got?" asked Chunky, with his usual curiosity.
"I'll show you if you'll wait a minute," whereupon the guide openedthe package, holding the contents toward them.
"What is it!" marveled Chunky, eyeing the things gingerly.
"I know! Cartridge belts!" shouted Ned Rector.
And cartridge belts they were--regulation canvas belts, each with ashining brass buckle, bearing a spread eagle on its face, the beltseach having compartments for forty-five rounds of ammunition.
Once more the Pony Riders made the mountains ring with their shouts ofjoy in which not even the dignified German Professor could resistjoining.
Stacy Brown in the meantime, had been greedily filling his belt withthe cartridges, until finally there was room for no more.
The other three boys, who had quickly strapped on their belts, wereparading about with guns on their shoulders, Walter Perkins givingthem their orders.
"Wow! But this thing is heavy," exclaimed Chunky, the weight of hisloaded belt tugging at his waist line.
"Here, here, Master Brown! You don't need all those shells. Put allbut ten of them back in the box," laughed the guide.
"They're not good to eat, Chunky," advised Walter.
"Huh!" grunted Ned Rector. "Anybody would think he was going intobattle. Why, a soldier doesn't carry any more bullets than that. Andwhat's more, Mr. Chunky Brown, if you intend to shoot off a belt fullof those shells, it's me for a rocky cave where the bullets can'treach. Eh, Tad?"
Tad nodded and grinned.
"I'm with you in that."
"We all have precious lives to save," added Ned.
"We are all ready," announced the guide. "Jose, you bear to the rightafter you leave camp and follow the blazed trail. We shall take thelower trail. Push right along so as to have a meal ready for us whenwe get in. We'll be hungry by that time."
"Have we any lunch with us?" asked the Professor.
"Yes, in the saddle bags."
A few moments later the boys were waking the echoes with the crashingexplosions of their weapons as they banged away at the targets.