CHAPTER VII
IN THE MOUNTAINS
Early next morning Carlito was waiting for them at an appointed placewith an Indian pack pony. By seven o'clock all the party had assembled,including Fly, who had succeeded in begging off from work. Each of theboys had a stock of provisions, a coat as a preparation for the cold ofhigher altitudes, fishing tackle, lines and rods, all of which Carlitostrapped on the back and sides of the pony. Each of the boys and Hawkewore a cartridge belt and carried a stout stick to aid in climbing. Herbhad a brand new service revolver. Fred, Jerry and Hawke carried guns,Carl carried a bow and arrow, while the others brought rifles. Fred hada camera and Jerry a field glass.
After an hour's tramp they reached the mountains. Lower down the slopesthe ascent was easy. Patches had been worn by the feet of manytravelers, here and there stepping stones had been roughly cut, notelling how many generations ago, and other rude steps had been formedby piling comparatively symmetrical stones upon each other. There werenumbers of deserted cliff dwellings along the ledges, tucked in underoverhanging rocks, and, higher up, perched in perilous spots over deepravines and rushing torrents. The largest part of the snow had melted bythis time, and the mountain streams were swollen to their utmost.Farther down, their descent was not so remarkable, but before the daywas over, the party stood awestruck on the side of many a rocky cliffand looked below at foaming, seething waters, dashing down the rockyways.
They had not gone far when they came across a group of Indians, of whichTommy was one, squatting on the ground, gambling. There were two squawsin the group, and they, like the men, were smoking. They were playingthe stave game, Carl explained, and sat, with stolid faces, throwingtheir sticks in turn. Occasionally they would allow themselves a gruntof approval or displeasure, as their luck prompted.
"How's it going?" Carlito asked Tommy, in Mexican.
The Indian shook his head in reply, while one of the others grinned.
After watching them awhile, Carlito, followed by the others, started on.
This was practically Fred's first mountain journey, and he was very muchworked up over the event. The cliff dwellings interested himexceedingly, and he wanted to explore them all, no matter how dangeroustheir approach. He had the eastern boy's desire for relics and kodakpictures, and in a short while his pockets were half filled with stonesand other things picked up along the way.
"Gee, I wish we could get into that one," he said, pointing to aparticularly lofty cliff dwelling, separated from them by a somewhatnarrow, but deep ravine, and almost hidden by a great projecting rockand overgrown poplars. But when he worked nearer to the edge, and sawthe rushing water below, and the sharp, jagged rocks that lined theravine, he was dissuaded from the idea and satisfied himself by taking apicture of it.
"A little farther up there's a dandy place to fish," said Carl. "Thewater runs easy for quite a ways, and there's lots of trout waiting tobe caught."
"Head for that," commanded Fly, scrambling over a cactus bush which hehad not noticed. "Ow, wow!" he yelled, as some of the sharp thornsgrazed his palm.
"Bring down one of those turkeys," said Jerry to Dunk, as a flock ofwild turkeys flew over their heads.
None of the boys claimed to be expert marksmen, but they soon found thatHawke deserved that distinction. He succeeded in bringing down one ofthe flock Jerry had referred to, though it was flying at a good height.It was nothing more than the boys naturally expected; in fact, theywould have been disappointed if he had not proved himself excellent ineverything.
"There's just nothin' he can't do," Dunk had said, and in this all theboys heartily agreed.
"Don't shoot too much before dinner," warned Carl, as though he fearedthey might clean out all the game. "We don't want to do much of thattill afternoon. Too heavy to carry."
"Oh, I guess we won't have much of a load," responded Fred, who had madethree unsuccessful attempts.
"I guess I don't know how to handle this new gun," was Herb's excuse,when he failed to bag his game.
By ten o'clock they had reached the point in the river which Carladvised was good fishing territory.
"We'll fish till noon," announced Tender Gray, "and then cook 'em."
"Yum, yum," came from several of the boys, who knew what a camp-bakedmountain trout was. "I'm hungry already," said Fly.
"Where's your line, Carl?" asked Fred, when all but the Indian had satdown and cast their bait.
"I never use one." The Indian was standing with his bow and arrow,looking intently into the water.
"Just watch him," whispered Jerry.
After that there was little talking. Perhaps there was a little unspokencompetition among the boys for the first catch. Now and then a troutcame up for air, but for a while they seemed to be running the gauntletof lines successfully.
Dunk's line caught on some floating weed, which he pulled out with a"shucks" of disappointment.
Finally there was a whirr and a splash, and Carl's arrow flashed intothe water. When he dragged it to shore with his bow there was a fine bigtrout attached to it, speared through the head.
Fred and Hawke watched him with interest, but none of the others paidmuch attention. They had frequently seen him catch fish in this way.
"Hullo, there, Windy, what's dragging your line?" yelled Dunk.
Fred had been so busy watching Carl that he hadn't noticed his shakingline.
"More weed," said Dunk good-humoredly. But Fred fooled him by landing afine trout.
Contrary to the expectations of most of the boys, Hawke did not make anyparticular mark as a fisherman. He caught but one fish, and that smallerthan the others.
"Guess my luck is going against me," he said, and the boys were veryready to believe it ill fortune instead of lack of ability.
They had been fishing about an hour and a half, when a loud call fromCarl attracted their attention. The Indian had been scouring the groundfor evidence of game, and had probably found something.
"Come here, fellows," he shouted, "you've got enough fish for dinner."
They all came running over, and examined a freshly dug hole he hadfound.
"Now, Boy Scouts, what's that?" asked Hawke, his eyes twinkling.
Tender Gray studied it seriously for a few minutes, and then announced:
"Looks like a shepherd dog might have done it."
"I don't know much about wild animal prints," said Fred, "but I supposeit was a bear."
"That's a grizzly's trick," said Carl. "He's been digging a root for hisbreakfast."
"A grizzly," gasped Tender Gray.
"Do you think you could get him?" exclaimed Fly.
"If I can find his hole," said Carl.
"But how do you know he is there?" asked Herb.
"We'll follow these prints."
The boys and Hawke walked along beside Carl as he pointed out thefootprints of the grizzly. Then he stopped.
"See this little trail where the dirt has been dragged along?" askedCarl. "Well, that shows he was dragging something in his mouth, and he'sprobably gone home to eat it. The marks are fresh, so it wasn't longago."
"Wouldn't it be a prize to have a grizzly!" exclaimed Fred.
"You fellows had better wait here for a few minutes, till I see if I canfind his hole," instructed the Indian. "If I can find that, we're sureof getting him or of him getting us."
"Suppose he gets after you, Carl. Better fire a signal," said Flyanxiously.
"He can't fire with his bow and arrow, bone-head," gibed Herb.
"I'll just shout," said Carl. "But I can get around him all right.
"I hope Carl don't kill him before we get a chance," said Fred, when theIndian was out of sight.
"He won't unless he has to," said Jerry. "He's a mighty square fellow."
"Wouldn't mother have a fit if I should bring back a bear. And thescouts in Cleveland!" Fred's bright eyes shone with the prospect. Inimagination he had already laid the grizzly low.
Carl finally came back with the news that he had foun
d the cave.
"Now you just follow me--and don't make any noise. I'm going to walk wayaround and come up behind the cave--you follow. Keep still."
The Indian started off like a stealthy panther, scarcely moving a leafor twig. He leapt with the agility of a cat over rocks that lay in hispath, and was obliged to pause now and then for the rest of the party tocatch up, as they had considerable more difficulty. The low brancheswere inclined to swish as they passed, and it was not an easy matter toavoid crackling dry leaves and twigs underfoot. They fell and scrambledover rocks, and unlucky Fly got into another bunch of cactus.
Finally they came to an open space, and Carl pointed to a formation ofrock.
"In front of that is a hole," he whispered. "That's where the grizzlyis. Crawl up on top of the rock, over the hole, and get your guns ready.Aim just as soon as you get a chance at him."
The boys, though they were stout-hearted fellows, followed nervously.Hawke had trailed and shot grizzlies before, and, though his sportingblood was aroused, he was willing to stand aside and let the boys tryfor the game. All of the other boys, except Fred and Tender, hadpreviously been close to live grizzlies, but only Carl had actuallytrailed one.
The rock was large enough for all to climb upon, squat down and holdtheir guns. Not one of the boys was at all afraid, yet the excitementmade their hearts beat fast, and in their eagerness to succeed, theyheld their guns with rather unsteady hands.
Carl leaned over the edge of the rock, and deliberately yelled into themouth of the cave. There was a low growl as he sprang back, but, afterwaiting several minutes, no grizzly appeared.
The Indian boy then took a coat which he had brought along, and droppedit down in front of the grizzly's hole.
There was another growl, stronger than the first. And then another. Itis difficult to describe the feelings of the boys as they sat there,almost on top of a real grizzly, and a live one at that. Yet they darednot speak, and could only sit still, everyone at high tension, untilsomething, they scarcely dared think what, happened. They felt a measureof safety, however, with Carl and Hawke along.
Finally the grizzly came out and sat down on the coat, looking around.Then he raised himself on his haunches, and smelt the air. Just as hecaught sight of the boys, Carl whispered as loudly as he could--
"Now!"
Two guns boomed--Herb's and Fred's. The big animal rolled over with afurious growl, and lay kicking for a second. Then he regained his feet,and, his teeth and red gums showing, was about to make a spring at theparty on the rocks. Jerry could not suppress a shriek, and Fly was tooexcited to do anything but cling to Dunk. Hawke, however, was quickenough for the animal. He let him have it just before Carl's arrowwedged itself in the animal's forehead.
This time the grizzly rolled over for good, and gave very few partingkicks.
Carl sprang down from his point of vantage, and gave the bear a violentpush with his foot, almost rolling him over on his back.
The blood was flowing freely from the wounds, while the grizzly's openmouth filled with froth and blood, and his glazed eyes told plainly thathe had dug his last root.
"Is he sure dead?" asked Fly, who with Jerry and Dunk, had remained onthe rock for safety.
"Did you ever see a live grizzly act like that?" returned Herb, pokingthe animal in the side to show that he, at least, was not afraid.
At this show of bravery all the boys came nearer.
"Well, let's carry him to camp," ordered Carl, and, under his direction,the boys found two stout sticks which they run through the bear's feet,one through the fore and one through the hind feet where Carl had madeslits. When they got him back to their camp they strapped him on thepony and prepared for dinner.
Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land Page 7