The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XXVI

  TRACKING A BUFFALO

  "THEY are all snowed under, I fear, Dick!" Roger thus remarked afterthey had been struggling along for some time, without seeing a livingthing save some crows that flew over the tree-tops, cawing at the threepalefaces as though scornfully demanding to know what they were doingso far away from their kind.

  "If you mean the small animals, such as rabbits, foxes, mink and such,"Dick answered, "I suppose it is so, though in time they must work theirway through the snow or die. But elk can move around still. They arebroad-chested and able to bound over or break through the drifts."

  "Then why have we failed to see a single elk, or a lone buffalo?" askedRoger, as though he took it as a personal grievance.

  "I can only give a guess at the answer."

  "And I'm sure it will be a good guess then, Dick, for you seem to studythe habits of everything that moves, from a beaver building his dam tothe antelope we coax up within gun-shot by waving a red piece of cloth.What do you think is the reason all big game is lacking about here?"

  "The animals must know of some places, more favored than others," Dickexplained, "where the grass stays fairly green throughout the winter.Snows may come and melt, and the cold waves be tempered by hot springsevery little while."

  "Then I wish we could run across another of those boiling springsbefore it gets dark, and find a herd of elk hanging around it," andRoger undoubtedly meant every word he spoke.

  As the day had been pretty well along when they managed to break out oftheir snow prison they could not hope, before night, to get any greatdistance on the way to the big lake.

  This being the case, it was really a matter of greater importance toDick and his two companions that they succeed in their quest for foodthan that they cover any considerable distance before camping.

  The prospect of another long night, without a morsel of food to staythe pangs of hunger, appalled them. Dick himself felt badly about it,although he managed, as usual, to hide his growing disappointmentbetter than Roger, partly for the sake of cheering the other up.

  "There is one thing none of us seem to have noticed," Dick observed,after another half hour had crept by; "the clouds have broken, and wemay even see the sun before it sets."

  "That is certainly cheering news," Roger returned; "because if we hadanother fall of snow on top of this, winter would set in 'for keeps.'And we did hope to be safe back in camp before that."

  Before Dick could make any further remark an exclamation from Mayhewdrew the attention of the two lads. The guide happened to be a littleahead of them at the time, and was now seen to be beckoning eagerly.

  "He must have struck the trail of an elk at last!" exclaimed Roger,showing all the signs of the eager hunter.

  "It looks that way," admitted his cousin, "because he seems to bepointing down at his feet, as though something he had discoveredinterested him."

  "Oh! I hope it turns out that way, and that if it is a trail it was notmade by a file of reds, or some of those ugly French trappers."

  They were hurrying forward while exchanging these remarks, and speedilyreached Mayhew's side.

  "What is it?" asked Roger, immediately.

  "A fresh trail!" came the answer, and, looking down, the boys could seefor themselves where some large animal had pushed through the deep snow.

  "An elk?" Dick inquired.

  "No, a buffalo, I believe," came the reply.

  "One or the other, what do we care, so long as we can bag him?"commented Roger. "So let us be on the move. Every minute counts, withthe sun so low in the western sky, and night coming on."

  There was indeed need of haste, for the short afternoon would soonbe gone and, unless they had the good fortune to overtake the straybuffalo within half an hour or so, all their hopes would be dashed.

  They immediately started forward; but the depth of the snow in placesretarded their progress, and Roger often drew long breaths that stoodfor impatience, for he dared not vent his feelings aloud.

  Dick, who was always observing little things, discovered that thebreeze favored them. The buffalo was heading up into the quarterwhence the wind came. This is the habit of most animals, since itallows them an opportunity to scent any lurking danger ahead, such as apanther stretched on a limb and waiting to spring upon them in passing.

  Mayhew, who was a first-class tracker, every now and then took a lookat the trail as though to decide what chance they had of overtaking thestruggling buffalo before night fell.

  He made no comment, but Dick, who watched his face, felt that the guidedid not feel any too sanguine. Evidently from certain signs, well knownto one of his broad experience, Mayhew knew that they were still somedistance in the rear of the quarry and that, unless for some reason thelone buffalo chose to stop while on his way to a feeding ground, therewas little likelihood of their coming up with him.

  Accordingly, Dick was already making up his mind to "grin and bear it,"as Uncle Sandy was in the habit of saying when things could not bechanged, and he had to stand for whatever came along.

  Roger kept a bright lookout ahead. He hoped to be the first to discoverthe huge animal outlined against the white snow. Perhaps Roger hadeven figured in his mind just how they would approach as near as theycould, and then, when their presence was discovered, and the buffalotried to escape, they would give chase.

  If the animal was tired after floundering so long through the deepdrifts they would likely soon be able to come up with him, when asingle shot might do the business. Roger did not forget that theirammunition was low, and that it would never do for them to be wastefulof powder and ball.

  The sun presently shone forth, but it was close down to the top of theridge far to the west, and liable to dip out of sight at any time.

  "The sun has set!" said Roger, presently, in a tone of bitterdisappointment.

  "And we will have to give up soon, I fear," Dick told him; "because,while meat would be a fine thing to have, we must first of all think ofpassing the night without being frozen to death."

  "It is going to be cold, that's a fact," admitted Roger, trying to showthat he could grapple with the situation and not betray weakness.

  Mayhew took a last look at the tracks, while the boys awaited hisdecision with the deepest anxiety. When they saw the guide shake hishead in the negative they knew luck had gone against them, and thatthis meant a supperless camp.

  "We have gained a heap on the critter," Mayhew declared, "but he wasstill going strong when he passed here."

  "How long ago?" asked Dick.

  "Nigh on half an hour, I should judge," came the answer.

  "Then we must call quits, and devote all our attention to finding acamp," Dick determined. "With a fire going we will not feel quite sobadly as in the cold."

  "Then we mean to keep up a blaze all night, no matter what the risk?"demanded Roger.

  "Of course we can try to hide the fire some," explained the guide; "buton a cold night like this the reds are not apt to be moving, and therisk will be slight."

  "Well, if the rest can stand it, I ought to, so now let us begin inearnest to find a camping-ground," and Roger started looking to theright and left as though he did not want to lose a minute.

  Indeed, at that season of the year in this far northern clime, whilethe twilight might linger for an hour or more, once the sun had setthey could not see well under the canopy of pines. These, in places,had kept much of the snow from reaching the ground, and there was areasonable hope that they could run across some spot that offeredshelter from the piercing night wind.

  Mayhew was so well versed in backwoods lore that he could be dependedon to locate such a camp ground. If necessary they could build awindbreak out of branches, and behind this make their fire.

  Before long the guide gave them to understand that he had sighted whatseemed to be an admirable spot for passing the night.

  "Over yonder you can see where I mean," he told them, pointing as hespoke; and even Roger was forced to admit that it
offered advantagesother places had lacked.

  Mayhew took his hatchet and cut several slabs from the bark of atree. It was to be noticed that he did this on the side nearest theirintended camp; but neither of the pioneer boys asked why this was done,because their hunter instinct told them Mayhew was only leaving hismark so that in the morning they would lose no time in picking up thetrail of the lone buffalo.

  Once they arrived at the spot selected as their next camp all startedto work. Dick and Mayhew began to erect a thick screen of brush on thewindward side, while Roger collected fuel wherever he could find it.

  When he had made quite a pile of broken limbs, and splinters froma fallen pine tree, Roger got out his tinder-box and flints, andpresently the rising smoke told that his fire was a success.

  As the night closed in around them it was a rather cheery scene thatRoger looked upon, while engaged in gathering a further supply of wood,perhaps twenty or thirty paces away. His two companions were stillengaged in adding the finishing touches to the barricade; the flamesleaped up with a snap and a sparkle, and the glow of the fire seemed togive the surrounding snow a rosy tint that did much to take away itscold look.

  Roger sighed as he tightened his belt, drawing it up another notch, afamiliar habit with hungry men.

  "I think we will have to call this Camp Starvation, Dick," he remarked,as he threw down the armful of fuel he had collected.

  "No, that would hardly be a proper name for it," the other told himimmediately; "because we haven't reached that point yet. I mean to putit down in my memory as Camp Hope!"

  Roger must have been abashed by the gentle reproach in Dick'sdeclaration, for he did not make any reply until several minutes hadpassed. Perhaps he may have been weighing in his mind the many reasonsthey had to be thankful, in spite of the dark clouds hanging over theirheads, for when he did speak up it was to say:

  "Yes, we will call it Camp Hope, Dick."