The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER VII

  HUNTERS, ALL

  "LOOK, Dick, we are not the only hunters," whispered Roger, as hetugged at the sleeve of his cousin's tunic, and pointed with his rifle.

  There was a slight movement in the undergrowth just ahead of them.Dick, looking in that direction, was surprised to see a crouchinganimal slink away. He instantly recognized it as a gray timber wolf,and knew the animal must have been hiding there in hopes of seizingupon some sort of game.

  As a single wolf, however daring, would never attempt to attack abuffalo, Dick could not understand at first what the animal meant todo. He judged, however, that, as this was the spring of the year,possibly there were calves in the herd, which would be just the tendersort of food that the sleek prowler would delight to secure.

  The animal drew back his lips at the boys, disclosing the cruel whitefangs; but he knew better than to attack such enemies and slunkswiftly away. After he slid into a thicker part of the brush the boyslost sight of him, for the time at least.

  Bent upon finding a place where they could get a fair shot at suchanimals as seemed best suited to their needs, the boys crept along. Thepatch of timber was not of any great size, and already they could seethe open prairie between the standing trees.

  Again did the keen-eyed Roger make a sudden discovery that causedhim to grip once more the arm of his companion and point. This time,however, he did not speak even in a whisper, for they were very closeto the edge of the motte, and for all they knew some buffalo might belying within twenty feet of them.

  What Dick saw, as he turned his eyes in the direction indicated,surprised him very much. Apparently the tempting bait had drawn anothersavage hunter to the spot in hopes of securing a meal.

  It was no Indian brave who sprawled upon the lowermost limb of thattree, but the lithe figure of a gray animal which Dick instantlyrecognized as a panther, and an unusually big one at that.

  The beast was staring hard at them. It did not move, or offer to attackthem, but, just as the wolf had done, it bared its teeth.

  The boys were not looking for trouble with a brute of this type justthen. Food alone held their thoughts and governed their movements. Onthat account Dick did a very wise thing when, drawing his companionaside, he made a little detour.

  The boys crept as softly as though born spies. Hardly a leaf flutteredas they moved along, and certainly no stick cracked under their weight,for these lads had long ago learned all that woodcraft could teach them.

  Both cast many a curious glance to the right and to the left, as thoughwondering what next they would come upon in the way of hungry, enviousbeasts.

  After a little while Dick turned again toward the front, and beganto make his way to the edge of the timber. He had noticed that, at acertain point, the dead grass extended some thirty feet away from thetrees, and offered splendid shelter to any one who knew how to utilizeit.

  Taking an observation after he had crawled forward to the very edgeof the timber, Dick found that the nearest animals were some littledistance away. He could count a dozen of them in sight, and there weretwo small calves frisking about their mothers.

  Although the grass might be exceptionally fine close up to the trees,the temptation to feed in closer was resisted by the buffaloes. Theyseemed to know by some intuition that danger was apt to lurk wheretimber grew, especially for the tender calves.

  In order to make sure of their shots, it was desirable for the boys tocrawl out amidst that dead grass. Dick could see that it offered thefinest kind of shelter, and, once they reached its furthermost limit,the chances of making sure shots would be just that much enhanced.

  Flattening themselves out upon the ground they crept along on theirhands and knees. An inexperienced hunter could never have performedthe task without attracting the attention of the feeding buffaloes,and causing a stampede; but the Armstrong boys had learned how toaccomplish the feat.

  Now and then a cautious observation was taken, and these glancespainted the scene vividly on the minds of the creeping boys. They couldsee the coveted yearling cows that it was their object to secure, theother, older members of the herds, and, towering above all, the oldbull who ruled the herd.

  This last was a terrible object, with the shaggiest mane the boys hadever seen on a buffalo. He showed the scars of numerous fierce battles,and one of his short black horns had been twisted out of shape in someformer combat, so that it gave him a peculiarly wicked appearance.

  Of course, when picking out their game, neither of the hunters hadthe slightest idea of aiming for the patriarch of the herd. He wouldbe much too tough a morsel for any one to chew, unless reduced to thepoint of actual starvation, when he might be preferable to slicing upone's moccasins for soup.

  The old fellow seemed to understand his business as acknowledgedguardian of the herd. He moved hither and thither, and, every once inso often, stopped to look around him, as though in search of signs oftrouble.

  Then he would shake his great head, give a proud snort of consciouspower, strike at the ground several times with one of his forefeet, andfinally go on with his feeding.

  By this time the hunters had arrived at the point where to proceedfurther would be to accept unnecessary risk of detection. They knewwell that, once the alarm was given, the whole herd would quickly be inmotion.

  While they might possibly succeed in a shot taken at a moving target,the chances of a miss were much greater than they cared to take. SoDick concluded the time had come for them to pick out their quarry,take deliberate aim, and then fire as close together as possible.

  A moving form attracted their attention close to the trees. It was thehungry wolf, possibly seeking some new shelter. If the feeding animalsnoticed the gray form at all they paid little heed to his presence,having contempt for a single wolf. It would have been at the risk ofhis life for the wolf to make a dash out toward the herd. Hungry thoughhe probably was, the slinking beast must have known this, for, aftergiving a stretch to his head, as though longingly sniffing the air, hecrept once more back into the shelter of the timber.

  Roger chuckled to himself, though deep down in his boyish heart he feltsorry for that hunger-tempted wolf. He was also thinking that, if theirplans turned out well, they would leave a feast behind sufficient tosatisfy the appetites of both panther and wolf.

  One last survey Dick took of the open stretch before them. He noticedthat the old bull was sniffing the air suspiciously just then. Whetherhe had caught traces of their presence, or it was the fact of theprowling wolf that began to bother the bull, Dick could not say.

  In fact, things had by now reached a stage where he did not think itmattered. Directly before them, and in plain sight, were two of theyearlings, one of them a fine, sturdy-looking young bull.

  Dick, as soon as he clapped his eye on this animal, selected him as hisintended victim. He knew that such a prize would be a choice morselfor the camp; and, for that reason, he meant that his aim should beparticularly sure when the moment arrived to shoot.

  "Leave the young bull to me, Roger," he whispered under his breath.

  "Just as you say, Dick," came the equally cautious reply, as bothrifles were brought slowly up to the boys' shoulders.

  The leader of the herd stamped his forefoot angrily on the ground andmade the turf fly. Plainly his suspicions had been aroused.

  Dick knew they must delay no longer. The bull acted as though about togive the alarm that would cause the whole herd to scamper wildly off.Now the guns were leveled, and the cheek of each hunter lay alongsidethe stock.

  "Ready?" asked Dick, softly.

  "Yes," came the immediate reply.

  "Then let go!"

  Crash!

  Both guns let go almost as one, and the feeding herd was thrown into awild panic.