CHAPTER XXVI--A Hundred Miles in Four Days, Over the Snow, Which is aLong Trip To Get Your Mail
The next morning Mills was up at the usual time, but he let the boyssleep, and it was the sound of the breakfast dishes that woke Joe, whowas usually first up to do the cooking and get the stove red hot. Joehimself slept in a separate little room partitioned off at the back, sohe could have his window wide open without freezing out the whole cabin.He got up now and hurried out, still sleepy.
"I had a funny dream last night," he said. "I dreamed we were bringingthe lion home on the sledge Peary took to the North Pole."
"Not a bad idea!" the Ranger exclaimed. "We might make a sledge to getthe deer meat home on. Suppose we do that to-day, and to-night we'lltake turns guarding the yard from possible wolves."
In the Ranger's cabin was a kit of tools, and outside was plenty ofwood. A sled like Peary's, however, was impractical in the soft snow,and, moreover, they soon found that without small hard woods to workwith it would be impossible to build any kind of an enduring sledge.
"Why don't we make a toboggan?" said Tom.
"You need hard wood for that, too, to curl the end--and it takes time tosteam the wood and get it bent, anyhow," Mills replied.
"Wait--I have it!" Joe cried. "You folks be getting three or four stripsof board ten feet long planed down thin, with the under side smooth.I'll come back presently."
He put on his skis and vanished down the trail, with a shovel over hisshoulder.
While he was gone Tom and the Ranger took two boards left over from thestable, each about six inches wide, and made another by hand-hewing itfrom a fallen log close to the cabin. Before this was done, Joe hadreturned, bearing triumphantly a twenty-five pound butter box.
"I saw it behind the hotel, on the trash pile, when I got the hens," hesaid. "I went down there and dug where I thought it was. Had to makethree holes and a tunnel before I got it--but it's hard wood, and allcurled."
When the third board was hewn out, and all three planed smooth and thin,they were laid side by side and connected with light crosspieces. Thenthe bottom was removed from the big butter box, the side drum severed,and one end securely fastened under the front end of the tobogganbottom. Thus the butter box curled up and around like the front of areal toboggan. The loose end was secured with thongs, and rings were puton either side of the boards, to run ropes through to hold on a load.Finally, a rope to pull it by was made fast.
"There!" Tom said. "That's a regular toboggan, and she'll ride on top ofthe softest snow."
"I wonder if she'll buck when we throw a diamond hitch?" Joe laughed.
As soon as supper was over, Joe went alone, with his rifle, up to theyard, and watched over the dead deer till eleven o'clock, when Tomrelieved him. Tom watched till three, and then the Ranger guarded tilldaylight.
But before daylight Joe was up, cooked some breakfast, roused Tom, andtaking food for Mills and pulling the toboggan, they hurried over thesnow, now well packed into a trail by their frequent trips to the yard.All that morning they worked skinning the deer, to save the valuablehides for moccasins, thongs, and similar uses, and quartering thecarcases which the lion had not molested after killing them. The meat,of course, was frozen now, and would keep indefinitely. It was a greatload of skins and meat they finally packed upon the toboggan, piled highand fastened securely on, but a very dirty, bloody, tired lot of peopleto drag it home, and they were glad enough that the yard was above thecabin, not below it.
But that night, after they were washed, they sat down to a fresh venisonsteak, and forgot their weariness, as only men can who have livedlargely on canned goods for many weeks.
"M-m, m-m!" said Tom. "This is good! Somehow I ain't so mad at that oldlion as I was!"
"What did you kill him for, then?" Mills laughed. "You might have hadeleven other deer to eat if you'd let him go."
"Kind o' mixed, isn't it?" Tom confessed. "I sure would kill him everytime--but I'd rather eat the deer than leave 'em for the wolves, justthe same."
"If you want something good to eat, get one of your lion friends to killa sheep for you, and bring us some mutton," said the Ranger. "I haven'thad a piece of mutton for ten years, I guess. Before this was a Park,and we used to hunt here, my! the feasts I've had!"
"Well, I could stand tinned beef all my life, to see the sheep alive,"Joe declared. "I'm glad it's a Park now."
The next day the hides were spread to cure, and the meat was all cleanedand hung, and the three then overhauled their equipment and packed up tomake a start the next day for Glacier Park station. No mail had come toanybody since October, they had been able to send no letters to theirparents, and the Ranger had not even been able to report to the Parksuperintendent, or the boys to send telegrams since the storm beforeThanksgiving, because the telephone wire between Many Glacier Hotel andthe railroad had been broken. As a rule, Mills used this wire in winter.One of the objects of their trip was to see about this break.
The trip out to the railroad, which was about fifty-five miles byautomobile road, could now be reduced to about forty-five, because theycould cut cross lots, over the deep snow, shaving the end of Flat TopMountain (not the Flat Top of the Valley Forge camp, but another on theeastern edge of the overthrust), and by good hiking reach Glacier Parkstation in two days. They planned to take the toboggan, loading on ittheir provisions, sleeping-bags, a small tent, axes, and the scouts'snow-shoes. The boys planned to wear skis for a good part of the trip,and to put Mills on the toboggan on the down grades, thus saving time.He laughed at the idea, but as the shoes were light made no objection.
That night was clear and cold, and the next day promised to be fair. Joeand Tom sat up late, getting letters ready to send home, and Joe spentan hour on a letter to Lucy Elkins, telling her about his life in thePark, and promising to send snow pictures as soon as he could get themdeveloped. But they were up long before the sun in the morning, and setoff by starlight, all three on the ropes of the toboggan, down thetrail.
When they came to the first long, snowy slope, Mills said, "Let me seeone of you go down it on your skis."
Tom dropped the rope, and ran, gaining speed as he went, the snow flyingout from under the prow of his skis, and a moment later was waving hishand from the bottom.
"Saves time, all right," the Ranger agreed, "but what's to become ofme?"
"Get on the back of the toboggan, let one foot hang out and steer withit, and come along," Joe laughed. "It's easy."
"I never steered one of the blamed things," said Mills.
"Here, you sit on top of the bags, and hold my skis. I'll show you."
Joe took his skis off, put Mills on the front, and pushed the tobogganover. A cloud of snow rose over the curl of the butter box prow,powdering the Ranger in the face, and they flew down the hill in Tom'stracks, and stopped at his side.
"Well, I'll be darned--here we be!" was all Mills said, as he brushedoff the snow.
"Tom, I believe there's something we can teach Mr. Mills!" Joe laughed."I believe he was afraid of a toboggan!"
Mills' blue eyes twinkled a little.
"By gosh, I'll go down the next one on your skis, just for that!"
They pushed on steadily down the Swift Current Valley, taking theeasiest way over the frozen lake, into the sunrise, and then, at thevalley's mouth, swinging south and cutting across toward the end of FlatTop. Mills did put on Joe's skis at the next favorable slope--and thescouts had to dig him out of the snow half-way down!
"Take your old skis," he spluttered, grabbing for his snow-shoes again."I'll stick to what I'm used to--and the toboggan. I don't have tobalance the toboggan."
After that, he steered the toboggan down the hills, while the scouts ranon skis.
For the up grades, the boys put on their snow-shoes, also, because evenon a gentle slope you back-slide with skis if you are pulling a load.They reached the ridge over Lower St. Mary Lake at noon, ate lunch,lowered the toboggan down the slope to the lake, and then ran on thewhite, level s
now surface above the ice inshore, due south, till atevening they had passed St. Mary Chalets at the foot of Upper St. MaryLake, and went on into a stand of thick woods, where they decided tocamp.
The tent was pitched in the most sheltered spot, on packed snow, facinga rock, and on logs laid across the snow packed in front of the rockthey built a roaring fire. With the heat of this fire, Joe was able tocook supper without his mittens on, though he could not go far away fromit without them. When supper was over, they built the fire up afresh,laid in a big supply of wood, and crawling into their sleeping-bags,under the shelter of the tent, itself sheltered by the evergreens, withthe flap facing the fire left wide open and the rock reflecting the heatin to them, they were surprisingly warm, when you consider that theywere sleeping on snow, with the mercury in the thermometer outsideplaying tag somewhere below the zero mark--or it would have been, ifthere had been a thermometer outside.
It was "anybody's job," if he woke up, to crawl out and throw more woodon the fire, and Joe twice did this. Both times, however, must have beenlong before morning, because when he finally woke up there was a fainthint of dawn in the sky, and the fire was practically out--only the logsthey had placed on the snow for a fire base were smouldering.
He crawled out again, and built a new fire. Then he took a kettle andwent to see if he could find any brook open, it was such a slow jobmelting snow. When he got back, the others were up, stretching andwarming themselves by the blaze. The coffee certainly tasted good thatmorning! And how fragrantly the hot bacon sizzled and spluttered in thepan!
They made the second stage of their journey chiefly over the prairie,more or less following the motor road, but cutting off all the cornersthey could to reduce mileage, and getting dozens of wonderful ski runsover the treeless slopes, while Mills, who by now had become quite anexpert steering the toboggan, came on behind.
"When I get back," he kept saying, "I'm going to learn to use thoseblooming things, too--but on a little hill first!"
The early twilight was deepening into night, and the northern lightswere playing when they came over the final slope and saw the railroadsignal lights--the first sign of other human beings than themselvesthey'd laid eyes on since October.
Half an hour later they were at the station, Mills was telephoning toPark headquarters at Lake McDonald, and the boys were getting theiraccumulated mail--letters from home, newspapers for two months past, abig box of cakes and sweet chocolate for Tom from his mother, and, forJoe, a long letter from Lucy Elkins, enclosing the pictures she hadtaken on their trip.
That evening they slept in beds at the house of the station agent, afterthey had spent the evening hearing the news from the outside world. Themass of newspapers they kept to read in the long evenings back in thecabin. Laying in some additional provisions, and carefully packing theirprecious papers, they started back in the morning, over their oldtracks, which, except in windy places where they were drift covered,afforded now pretty easy sledding for the toboggan. They made camp againin the same spot, and were up before daylight for the last stage, Millslooking scowlingly at the sky.
"Don't like it to-day, boys," he said. "We're in for a storm. Let's beatit home, if we can."
And that day he gave them little rest, driving on at a fast pace, withthe toboggan rope straining over his shoulder. The sun went under beforenoon. By mid-afternoon, as they entered the Swift Current valley mouth,the peaks of the Divide were lost in a cold, gun metal cloud, and thewind was rising. They faced this wind all up the valley, with no chancenow to coast--only a steady, grinding up-hill pull.
It was dark long before they got to the cabin, and the snow had begun tofall in fine, stinging flakes. They were a cold, weary lot when finallythey tugged their load up the last grade to the level of the lake,passed into the trees at the tepee camp, and a few minutes later tumbledinto the cold cabin, and began to pile wood into the stove.
"Well, Joe, get a hunk of that venison out, and let's forget this day!"Mills cried. "Light up the big lamp, Tom. We've got kerosene enough,too. Let's be cheerful."
The roar of the logs in the stove, the light of the lamp, and presentlythe smell of food and coffee, acted like magic. They were soon laughingagain, while the wind rose outside, and the trees groaned and creaked,and the snow drove with a kind of hissing patter against the windows andthe roof.
"A hundred miles in four days, over four feet of snow, and pulling atoboggan--gosh, if anybody'd told me old Joe could do that last May, I'dhave thought he was crazy," said Tom.
"You couldn't have done it yourself last May," Joe replied.
"And," said the Ranger, stretching out his legs and rubbing them, "bygolly, _I_ don't want to do it again!"
"Ho," said Tom, "I feel fine!"
But he was the first to propose bed--although it must be admitted nobodyquarreled with his suggestion.
Boy Scouts in Glacier Park Page 28