CHAPTER XXIV.
“BITTER CREEK JONES.”
A dull, booming crash that shook the ground under their feet, followedwithin a few seconds. A cloud of dust and rocks arose from the cavemouth. Suddenly Ralph broke into a shout:
“The rock! The rock! It’s moving!”
“Hold on, boy,” warned the prospector, laying a hand on Ralph’sshoulder. “Watch!”
The big boulder hesitated, swayed, and then, with a reverberatingcrash, as the blasted terrace under it gave way, it rolled down thehillside. An instant after, Jim Bothwell burst from the cavern andran toward them. It was all that Ralph, in his joy, could do to keepfrom embracing him, but just then a sudden shout from Bitter CreekJones caught and distracted his attention. In their excitement theyhad forgotten all about the tethered ponies. The great rock was nowbounding toward them with great velocity.
It shook the ground as its ponderous weight rumbled down the hillside.The ponies whinnied with terror and tugged and strained at their ropes.But just as it appeared inevitable that they must be crushed, the hugerock struck a smaller one and its course was diverted. Down it went,but on a safe track now, and terminated its career in the clump ofthick growing alders that fringed the stream.
“Wow, a narrow escape!” ejaculated Ralph breathlessly.
“Yep, we come pretty durn near killin’ two birds--or ponies,rayther--with one stone,” grinned Bitter Creek Jones; “but all’s wellas turns out all right, as the poet says.”
“Bitter, you’re all right,” cried Jim, clutching the hand of theprospector who had turned up so opportunely.
“Shucks! That’s all right, Jim. It wasn’t much to do fer you, oldpal,” responded Bitter returning the pressure. “And now,” he went on,as if anxious to change the subject, “you’d better skin that lion andbe gettin’ on yer way. It’s drawin’ in late, and this is a bad part ofthe country to get benighted in, more specially with a bunch of Bloodshanging about all lit up with fire-water.”
“Reckon you’re right, Bitter,” was the response as Mountain Jim deftlymade the necessary incisions and he and his friend skinned the deadcougar with skillful hands.
It was not long after that they parted company. Bitter Creek Jonescontinuing toward the south, while Ralph and Mountain Jim swung on totheir ponies and resumed their journey toward the northwest. The lastthey saw of Bitter Creek Jones he was waving a hearty adieu to them andshouting:
“See you in Alaska north of fifty-three, some time.”
Then a shoulder of mountain shut him out and they saw him no more.
“There’s a white man,” said Jim with deep conviction, as the poniescarried them from the scene. “He’s rough as a bear, is Bitter, butwhite right down to his gizzard.”
Ralph regretted that he could not have taken one of the cubs along,but on the rough trip that still lay before them it would have beenextremely difficult if not impossible to transport it. So the littleden of young cougars had to be left behind to await the return of theirwounded mother, an event which, Mountain Jim declared, would take placewithin a short time.
“Maybe I ought to have killed the whole boiling of them youngtermagents,” he said. “They’ll grow up and make a heap of trouble forsheepmen, but let ’em be. I ain’t got the heart to make away with a lotof babies like them.”
It was dark when, on topping a backbone of desolate mountain, theysaw in a valley below them a light shining amidst the blackness. Jimdeclared that this must be the ranch for which they were searching,and they made their best speed toward the lonely beacon. If it hadbeen hard traveling by daylight through the forest, it was doublydifficult to make their way by night. But Jim appeared to possess ina superlative degree that wonderful sense of location peculiar topersons who have passed their lives in the great silent places of theearth. It has been noted by travelers that a young Indian boy, who hasapparently not noted in the slightest the course followed on a huntingexpedition into the great woods, has been able, without any apparentmental effort, to guide back to camp the party of which he formed amember. Such a faculty has been ascribed as more due to instinct, thesense that brings a carrier pigeon home over unknown leagues, than toanything else.
Through the darkness they blundered on, through muskegs, fallentimber and swollen creeks--the latter due to the heavy rains of theafternoon. At length, after it appeared to Ralph almost certain thatthey must have lost their way, they came out on a plateau and sawshining not half a mile from them the light for which Mountain Jim hadbeen aiming.
A sea captain, with all the resources of highly perfected instruments,could not have made a more successful land-fall. But as they drewnearer to the light, a puzzled expression could have been observedon Mountain Jim’s face had it been clearly visible. Ralph, too, soonbecame aware of a great noise of shouting and singing proceeding fromthe vicinity of the light.
“Must have some sort of a party going on,” he observed to his companion.
“I dunno,” was Mountain Jim’s rejoinder. “Donald Campbell used to bea bachelor and no great shakes for company. Maybe he’s married andthey’re havin’ a pink tea or something.”
Soon after, they rode up to a rough looking house, behind which,bulking blackly against the darkness, were the outlines of haystacks.Several horses were hitched in front of the place and the door wasopen, emitting a ruddy stream of light that fell full on one of theanimals. Ralph recognized the cayuse with a start. It was one of thosethat had been ridden by the Bloods. There was no mistaking the animal’spie-bald coat and wall-eye. He was what is known among cowmen as a“paint-horse.”
Ralph gasped out his information to Mountain Jim. His companion onlynodded.
“I’ve been thinking for some time that there is something queer aboutthis place,” he said, “but there’s no help for it, we’ve got to see itthrough now.”
And then a minute later he made an odd inquiry:
“Where’ve you got the money for the ponies, Ralph?”
“Right in my inside coat pocket. Why?”
“Oh, I dunno. Better put it in a safer place; you might lose it.”
Ralph could not quite understand the drift of his companion’s remark,but he shifted the money--one hundred dollars in bills--to his belt,which had a money pocket for such purposes. By this time they were upto the long hitching post where the other ponies were tied and theydismounted and secured their own animals.
“Let me do the talking,” warned Mountain Jim as they approached thedoor. The noise of their arrival had been noticed within, and a short,stocky figure of a man with a flaming red beard blocked the light fromthe doorway as they approached.
“Great Blue Bells of Scotland, that ain’t Donald Campbell, by a longshot!”
“Maybe he’s moved on,” said Ralph, recollecting the phrasing of thenotice in the deserted log cabin.
“Maybe,” responded Jim briefly. The next minute the man in the doorwayhailed them.
“Evening, strangers.”
“Evening,” responded Jim. “Donald Campbell about?”
“Naw. He ain’t lived here in quite a spell. Gone up the valley tenmiles or more. Lookin’ for him?”
“Well, I calculated on seeing him,” was Jim’s response. “Can we stayhere to-night?”
The man hesitated an instant, but then spoke swiftly as if to cover uphis momentary vacillation.
“Yep. Come right in. Guess we kin get you supper and a shake-down.That’s all you want, ain’t it?”
“That’s all,” responded Jim as they passed the threshold. Insidethey found themselves in a rough looking room lighted by a hanginglamp which reeked of kerosene. At a table under it some men had beensitting, but they vanished with what appeared suspicious haste as thetwo strangers came in. The host left them alone soon after, promisingto give them some bacon and eggs and coffee. The noise that they hadheard as they drew close to the ranch had died out, and now all was assilent as a graveyard. Ralph lowered his voice as he addressed MountainJim.
“What sort of a place
is this, anyhow?”
In the same low tones Jim made his reply:
“Dunno, but it looks to me like what they call up in this section a‘whisky ranch.’ It’s the resort of bad characters and is stuck backhere in the woods so as to be beyond the ten-mile limit. You see theCanadian government, knowing what harm that stuff does, won’t letliquor be sold within ten miles of a public roadway.”
“Then that’s what brought those Indians here?”
“Looks that way. But this fellow would be in mighty bad if it was foundout by the mounted police. But--hush! I reckon he’s coming now.”
Sure enough the red-bearded man re-entered the room at this juncture.He bore a big dish of bacon and eggs in one hand and in the other hehad a blackened tin pot from which came the savory aroma of coffee.
From a corner cupboard he got tin plates and cups and wooden-handledknives and forks. He asked them what their business was as he laid thetable, which required no cloth, being covered with a strip of whiteoil-cloth.
“We wanted to buy some ponies from Donald Campbell,” spoke Ralph beforeJim’s heavy foot kicked him under the table. For an instant there was asharp glint in the red-bearded man’s eyes.
“Buyin’ ponies, eh? Must have lots of money. Ponies is high right now.”
“In that case we can’t afford ’em,” said Jim, taking the conversationinto his own hands. He had noticed the momentary flash in the man’seyes when Ralph spoke of buying ponies, and rightly interpreted it.The man stood by them while they ate and told them that he had boughtthe ranch some time before, but that it was a poor place and he couldmake nothing out of it He appeared anxious to impress them that he wasa rancher and nothing else, and spoke much of crops and stock. Jim andRalph listened, replying at intervals.
When they had finished eating, the red-bearded man offered to escortthem to bed. He wanted to put them in separate rooms, but Mountain Jimdemurred to this.
“My partner here is a heavy sleeper,” he said, “and we’ve got to be upearly to-morrow. I’d rouse up the whole house waking him if you put himin another room.”
“All right, I can put you in the attic,” said the man, “but you’ll notbe over comfortable.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Jim airily. “We’re used to roughing it.”
“You may be, but your partner don’t look over and above husky,” saidthe red-bearded man, glancing at Ralph’s slender form, which ratherbelied the boy’s real strength and activity. He conducted them upstairsand left them in an unceiled attic in which were two rough cots. Hetook the lamp with him when he went, saying that it was too dangerousto leave a kerosene lamp up there so close to the rafters.
“Don’t sleep too sound,” whispered Jim as they got into their cots.“I’ve a notion that our friend with the vermilion chin coverings isn’tany better than he ought to be. I’m sorry you made that crack aboutbuying ponies; it’s given him the idea that we are carrying a lot ofmoney. I saw it in his eyes as soon as he spoke.”
Ralph hadn’t much to say to this. He realized that he had made a badmistake and blamed himself bitterly. But he determined to try toretrieve his error by keeping awake to watch for any sudden alarm. Buttry as he would, his exhausted eyelids drooped as if weighted withlead, and before long, tired nature had asserted her sway and the ladwas sound asleep on his rough couch.
Just what hour it was Ralph could not determine, but he was suddenlyawakened by a noise as if someone had pushed a chair across the room orhad stumbled on it. Broad awake in an instant he sat up in the cot, hisevery sense alert and his heart throbbing violently.
The Border Boys in the Canadian Rockies Page 25