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

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XXVII

  FIRE FANCIES

  PERHAPS they were taking some chances as they sat there by their firethat evening; but there was no help for it. Being without blankets orany furs to keep them warm when sleep overcame them, they dared notrisk being frozen as the cold became more intense with the passing ofthe night.

  Roger meant to show as cheery a face as he could, but somehow hecould not seem to think of anything but the delights of eating. It isdoubtless so with all who have been deprived of their customary foodfor an unusual time.

  "Do you know, Dick," he said, as he sat hugging his knees and staringinto the crackling flames, "I was just thinking how, many a night, whenthe wind would be whistling around the corners of our cabin, SisterMary and myself used to sit and look into a roaring fire like this,one on either side of the big hearth. I can picture her sitting thereto-night, with mother and father close by. And, Dick, perhaps they aretalking about us, wondering whether they will ever see us again."

  Dick moved uneasily as he listened, for, to tell the truth, histhoughts had also gone roaming back to the dearly loved home, andin imagination he was following the forms of his mother, father andbrother, as they moved to and fro in the well-remembered living room.

  Immediately afterwards Roger's plaint took another turn, induced nodoubt by the feeling of emptiness that caused him such uneasiness.

  "Yes, and it seems to me I can even catch the fine odor of the stewthat is cooking in the big black pot swinging over the fire, with thelid lifting to let out the clouds of steam. And oh! Dick, how splendidit used to smell, too! What wouldn't I give to be sitting down with aplate of it heaped up before me, some of mother's tea in a tin cup anda plate of her fried sweet-cakes to top off with."

  Once Roger got started on that strain he seemed to take especialdelight in recollections of about every feast in which he had everindulged. Dick let him talk on undisturbed. How vividly he himselfcould recall all those special occasions, when they had attended somecountry dance among the settlers' young folks at harvest home times.The faces of all the absent friends came clearly before him and,spurred on by Roger's graphic descriptions, it seemed almost possibleto get a whiff of the fresh bread being taken from the big old Dutchoven in which, as a small child, Dick had so often hidden from hiscompanions when they played games.

  Roger prattled on as the hour grew late. It seemed as though hisrecollections had no limit, judging from the way in which he keptcalling up events of happy days.

  But finally Dick began to notice that he faltered now and then, and hiseyes gave evidences of approaching drowsiness. The warmth of the firewas getting in its work and in the end Roger stretched out, "just torest his back a bit," as he explained to his companions. He soon beganto breathe regularly and Dick knew that he slept.

  For a time at least the hungry boy would forget his gnawing pains,though possibly his dreams would take on the joys of a feast, and theawakening be all the more bitter in consequence.

  "Poor Roger!" Dick said to himself, as he leaned over and gently drewthe flap of the sleeper's tunic closer about his neck, "I wish I had itin my power to provide a substantial meal against your waking up; butwhere it is to come from, unless it rains down from above, I fail tosee."

  It was just like the generous nature of Dick Armstrong to forget hisown condition in feeling for another; Roger was as dear to him as hisown brother could be, since they had shared each other's joys andsorrows ever since they were able to exchange confidences and fighteach other's battles.

  That long night would never be forgotten, though they lived to an oldage. Little sleep visited Dick's eyes. This came partly from his senseof hunger, but also on account of the serious condition that confrontedthem.

  Their long quest seemed to have been wrecked on the rocks, and thatafter success had appeared to crown their efforts, which made it allthe harder to bear. Although Dick would not appear downcast while Rogercould see his face, he had numerous doubts to wrestle with in thesilence of the night, and secretly groaned in spirit many times.

  During his wakeful hours he often caught the distant howling of a wolfpack. This coming of the first deep snow of the winter would make theirtask of securing daily food the more difficult, and it seemed to thelistener that there was an additional mournfulness to those long-drawnsounds.

  Once he also caught the scream of some other beast in the pine woods.Although it was not repeated, Dick believed it must have come from apanther seeking his prey amidst the snowy aisles of the forest.

  Mayhew, too, must have been wakeful, for several times when Dickhappened to be dozing he arose and threw more wood on the fire.

  When the stars told Dick morning was at hand he felt as though aterrible load had been taken from his mind. With ten hours of daylightbefore them they must surely be able to obtain meat and satisfy theircraving for food.

  While the other two were sitting cross-legged by the fire, and talkingin low tones, Roger suddenly sat up. He stared hard at them, and dughis knuckles into his eyes, as though he could not believe what he saw.

  Dick knew from the indications that he must have been far away in hissleep, and that the disappointment struck him cruelly.

  "So, it was all a dream after all, and mother was not calling me to getup or the griddle cakes would be cold?" Roger remarked, dolefully. "Oh,how fine they used to taste, with that wild honey smeared over them! Doyou remember the time when we brought in four heaping buckets of honeyfrom that bee-tree up on Juniper Creek, and how my left eye was closedby a sting? But never was there such sweet stuff. And to think that wehave to go without a bite of breakfast this cold morning!"

  "Just as soon as it gets a little lighter," said Dick, "we will be onthe move."

  "Searching for something to eat, you mean, don't you?"

  "Yes, whether it is that stray buffalo, or an elk, we will not be veryparticular which," the other declared.

  "Why, I think I could eat a--a wolf, almost, I'm that caved in,"declared Roger, and no doubt he meant it, too.

  The dawn was at hand. Eagerly they watched the pink flush spreadingacross the eastern sky. With a change in the wind they could hear adistinct muttering sound, and it was easy to picture some gushinggeyser in action, perhaps miles away.

  Just as soon as they could see without trouble they turned their backson Camp Hope, and were soon following the trail of the buffalo.

  "If I thought we would have any trouble about getting a supply of wood,so as to start a fire in a hurry after we get our meat," Roger observedbefore they abandoned the camp, "I'd be tempted to tote some of thisgood fuel on my back."

  "No need of doing anything like that," Dick assured him. "If there isanything that is plentiful around here it is fuel for a fire. I alreadyhave some small bits of choice stuff laid away for a time of need."

  The wind had shifted the surface of the dry snow to some extent, sothat in places they found the tracks of the buffalo almost covered. ButMayhew was a born trailer, and found no difficulty in following theanimal.

  "You see," he told the boys at one time, "this may be a good thing forus, because we can tell where the beast started fresh this morning."

  It was not twenty minutes after he made this remark when the scoutjoyously showed them where the buffalo had spent the night. They couldplainly see the imprint of his hairy coat in the snow where he hadlain down. The cold had no particular terror for such a rugged beastand, as he went on in about the same general direction as his previoustrail, they believed they were right in assuming that the buffalo,through instinct, knew where forage was to be found, and was headingthither.

  All possible haste was now made by the three pursuers. It meant muchto them that they presently overtake the quarry, or else run upon someother game.

  Roger was already feeling weak from lack of food. Only his will powerenabled him to keep alongside the others in that hot chase. He strainedhis vision to the utmost, in the endeavor to be the first to discoversigns of the welcome presence of the big animal with the s
haggy mane,which it seemed was their only hope of staving off starvation.

  When crows again flew overhead and continued their scornful cawing,Roger several times aimed his empty gun up at them, as though he wouldhave liked to give the impudent birds of ill omen something to rememberhim by.

  "I really believe they must know we have so little ammunition thatnothing could tempt us to waste a grain of powder on them this day,"he declared, angrily, when the clamor of crow scolding grew worse.

  "Oh! at another time you would hardly pay any attention to them," Dicktold him. "Just now all of us feel a bit nervous, and ugly. Let themscold if it does them any good. We haven't yet reached the point wherewe could eat crow, even if we felt like wasting a shot on one."

  It was sensible advice, and, just as Dick prophesied, the noisy flockwas soon left in their wake.

  "I've heard some queer stories about crows," Mayhew remarked, "and howthey even hold a court to try some bird that has been bad. Once I founda crow hanging by the neck dead in a wild grape-vine. Of course I couldnever tell if it got there by accident, or was hanged by its mates; butlots of people I told the story to said it looked mighty suspicious."

  Dick laughed a little at that, but went on:

  "I've sat in the woods many a time, myself, and watched a gathering ofcrows. It seemed as though they came by squads from everywhere untilthere were hundreds fluttering about the trees. And such a terriblenoise they kept up! It made me think of school when we have spellingbees, and everybody is trying to call out at the same time."

  "Yes," added Roger, trying to take some interest in things that wouldcause him to forget his misery for even a brief period of time, "andthen they would fly off in a great cloud, dodging this way and that asthough it might be an army going to attack the fort of an enemy. Yes,they are queer birds; but I don't like them to make fun of me when I'msick for something to eat."

  "They acted to me as if they were warning us to go back!" suggestedMayhew, a little uneasily. "I wonder why, and if there's anything upthis way that would give us trouble."

  "It's open country just here," said Roger, "and nothing terrible insight. But I'd give a heap if we could only overtake that lopingbuffalo. You said a while ago, didn't you, Mayhew, that he could onlybe fifteen minutes or so ahead of us?"

  "That is what his tracks tell me," the guide assented, "and we arecoming up on him all the while. If we fail to see him in the next halfhour I will be a disappointed man."

  "Why, I must be getting weak on my pins, for it seems as if the groundwas trembling under me!" declared Roger, showing signs of sudden alarm.

  Dick and the guide exchanged hasty glances. Apparently they werefeeling something of a similar nature, but could not lay it to the samecause as Roger.

  "It is getting much worse now," cried Mayhew, "and I can hear aterrible grumbling down underneath me that I must say I don't like overmuch!"

  All of them were by this time aroused to a sense of their sudden peril;but it was Dick who voiced the alarming truth.

  "Run for your lives!" he shouted, "it must be a boiling fountain aboutto burst, and we are right on top of the crater!"