The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri; or, In the Country of the Sioux

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XVIII

  BROUGHT TO BAY BY THE WOLF PACK

  "WHAT does this mean, Dick?" Roger asked, some days later, when theystarted to make a fire in the morning and found the air quite cold."Does winter come so early in this northwestern country?"

  "Oh! no, it isn't that," replied the other; "but, since the wind haswhipped into the north during the night, and there's been a stormsomewhere, we're in for a cool spell. I hope frost is far from us,because we have so much to do before that time. But a fire will feelgood, and I think we might take chances."

  They had not seen any signs of Indians for some time now, but Dickwas too cautious a boy to relax his vigilance on this account.Nevertheless, after the light of day had come, he believed they couldmake a fire out of smokeless wood that was not apt to betray theirpresence in the vicinity.

  During this day they journeyed through dense timber, which was quite achange from crossing the wide, level stretches of country lying alongso much of the upper reaches of the Missouri.

  All the time they had to make sure of several things, especially thepresence of the river not far away; and then the important fact thatthe exploring expedition sent out through the efforts of PresidentJefferson was still ahead of them.

  It would have been a sad joke on the boys had they managed in somemanner to outstrip the soldiers and voyageurs with Captains Lewis andClark, and in this way gone ahead of them.

  To make positive that this was not the case they were compelled to keepclose to the river, looking for signs of an abandoned camping-place;and when such was discovered they found means to read the telltaleevidence that denoted just how many days' journey in advance were thosethey sought.

  It was while they were jogging contentedly along during this particularmorning that Dick suddenly drew rein, and raised a hand with a movementthat his companion understood meant that he was to listen.

  From some point ahead they caught peculiar sounds--a snapping andcrackling, accompanied by dull thuds that mystified Roger greatly.

  "Why, what can that he, Dick?" he asked, turning a perplexed facetoward his companion, and at the same time fingering his always readygun.

  "Let's move slowly forward, and find out for ourselves," was Dick'ssuggestion, which appeared to please his cousin, since both at onceurged the horses ahead.

  As they kept on the noise increased in volume; and accompanying theother sounds they could now hear snortings, and what seemed to be thesnarls of beasts. Then came a plain yelp as of pain, followed by moreprancings, and another of those dull thuds, as of a heavy body strikinganother, the impact causing the hollow sound.

  "Seems like a fight," said Roger, in a cautious tone, not removinghis eyes from in front, where he now believed he could see the busheswaving, as if various objects were in motion beyond.

  "That's just what it must be," Dick agreed.

  In another minute they had reached a point where they could look uponone of the tragedies of the border, such as were in progress in seasonand out, hundreds of years before Columbus ever sailed into the westernseas, to find a new route to the East Indies, and thereby discovered anew continent instead.

  A noble old stag was at bay, with a pack of hungry wolves trying theirbest to drag him down. Already had he placed two of the gray beasts ontheir backs, and several of the others seemed to have suffered fromcontact with the sharp points of his antlers.

  They had succeeded in running him down; perhaps a wound in one of hislegs had prevented the game old fellow from escaping as easily as hemight have done under ordinary conditions. The boys never knew how itcame about; but there the stag was, with lowered head, doing his bestto defend himself against his foes.

  No doubt, had the combatants been left to fight it out in their ownway, the tenacious wolves would in the end have pulled the old stagdown, and made a meal off his carcase; for he seemed pretty wellexhausted by this time, and there were still half a dozen of the savagebrutes able to fight.

  But Roger could not stand such a spectacle. He sympathized with thegallant old buck, and, slipping from his horse, bow and arrow in hand,crept forward, meaning to put in a few "licks," as he called them, infavor of the animal that was outnumbered six to one.

  Dick sat there, holding his rifle, and not wishing to waste any of hisprecious ammunition unless it seemed necessary. He knew he could dependon his comrade not to injure the brave buck, whose tough meat wouldbe of little use to them for food. And, after the way in which he hadfought the whole wolf pack, it seemed as though he deserved a betterfate than being shot down.

  The boy with the Indian bow succeeded in creeping close enough to get agood view of the performance. The actors in the forest tragedy were tooexcited and intent on their business to notice anything else. Even theusually wary pests of the timber were goaded to fury by this determinedresistance on the part of their intended prey, and seemed wild to bringhim down.

  Roger never enjoyed anything more in his life than when he took a quickaim, and sent a feathered arrow flying toward the nearest of the pack.The beast went over in a heap, and Dick chuckled when he saw the end ofthe arrow projecting from that gray side.

  Working like a machine Roger fitted another missile to his how, andagain that fatal twang announced that the badgered stag had a new allyclose by; for a second wolf rolled over, howling dismally.

  By that time the balance of the pack began to awaken to the fact thatthere was something strange in the actions of their companions. Perhapsthey allowed themselves to ignore the wounded stag for a moment, andsniff the air. At any rate, there was a sudden flight on the part ofthe four animals still able to run; and the stag found himself masterof the field.

  "Hurrah!" shouted Roger, unable to restrain his feeling of elation ashe stepped in sight, waving his foxskin cap in triumph.

  "Take care," called out Dick, warningly, "or the stag may turn on you;he doesn't know that you mean to be his friend; and it would be a shameto have to kill him, after the handsome way he stood off that pack!"

  But the animal, while half disposed to attack this newcomer, beingdoubtless flushed with his apparent victory over the wolves, presentlydeemed discretion the better part of valor; for, turning, he went offat a limping pace.

  "Good-by, and good luck!" called Roger after him, as he stepped forwardto knock one of the wounded wolves on the head with his hatchet, so asto recover his two arrows.

  Under ordinary circumstances the boys would gladly have halted toremove the skins of the wolves that had fallen, where the antlers ofthe stag had not ruined the pelts; but just now they could not thinkof such a thing. Their horses had all they could safely carry, and itwould be the height of folly to think of increasing the load.

  Although these lads had done considerable hunting during the last fiveor six years this happened to be the first time they had ever beengiven a chance to witness one of those forest battles which took placeso often. True, once they had found the skeletons of two deer in thewoods, and from the fact that their antlers were interlocked tightly,so that they could not possibly be pulled apart, it was evident that ina fight the bucks had become so attached to each other in this way thatthey could not separate, and that consequently they had starved in themidst of plenty, falling victims to their own passions.

  On other occasions, when their journey led them through the vastprairies, other matters engaged their attention. Of course they hadto make camp where night found them; and often it was far out on thebillowy sea of grass, where they built their small fire in a hole dugin the ground, and spent the night in watchfulness and security.

  But sometimes these nights were not as quiet and peaceful as they couldwish. Until recently neither of the boys had seen a cowardly coyote;but often these scavengers of the plains seemed to scent the fresh meatwhich the boys had with them; and, taking up positions a short distancefrom the camp, they would make night hideous with their yelping.

  After the boys had become accustomed to this discordant chorus theyminded it very little. Had it been wolves they
would have keptconstantly on the alert lest the treacherous beasts pull down one ofthe horses; but these thieving coyotes did not have the courage toattempt such a bold deed, and could only hang around, watching fora chance to steal something when no one was looking. They might becalled the sneak-thieves of the plains, while the gray wolf mightbe likened to the dashing pirate--bold, aggressive, and sometimesundaunted.

  There was one night when these beggarly coyotes seemed to be morepersistent than ever. Roger remarked that they came in closer, andseveral times he looked as though he would like nothing better than togo out and try to "pot" a few by means of his ever-ready bow.

  However, Dick thought the animals hardly worth noticing, since theircowardly traits made them afraid to venture close enough to stealanything.

  Of course he raised no objections when his companion declared he meantto set a trap, and teach at least one sneaking coyote a lesson. Rogerwas a clever hand at all sorts of snares and liked nothing better thanlaying one, whereby he might match his wits against those of a cunningbeast.

  So, taking his hatchet, and some bits of wood which they had broughtalong in case of need in cooking supper, he began pounding these downinto the soft ground. In this way he constructed what seemed to be anavenue, about a foot broad, leading up to the place where he expectedto place the bait of his gun-trap.

  Finally he fixed his rifle in such a manner that it aimed directly downthis enclosed section, and if it were discharged any creature betweenthe parallel lines of stakes would be very apt to get shot.

  When the trap was set Roger chuckled, and seemed to take considerableboyish pleasure in anticipating the surprise of the hairy thief, when,upon creeping stealthily along the limited space, he snapped at thetempting bait, only to have it apparently develop a sting, accompaniedby a crash like thunder.

  Dick had watched all these preparations with amusement. He knew howmuch pleasure the other took in managing these little surprises, for hehad often observed Roger spending time fixing a trap for a fox, or itmight be a bear. It had become what might be called a hobby with theboy, and in such matters he had few equals among the lads of the St.Louis settlement.

  "Remember, and don't be frightened out of your skin if you hear a shotsome time to-night, Dick," was the warning the maker of the trap gave,as he pronounced his work fit for business.

  "I'll try not to," observed the other, then adding: "and I hope that ifit succeeds, as you expect, the sound won't bring any hostile Indiansdown on us. But at sundown there was nothing in sight, and that was whywe dared to have our fire."

  It was just half an hour later that the boys jumped as though theyhad been shot, when the gun went off with a tremendous report. Dickimmediately burst out laughing.

  "That's a joke on you, Roger, as sure as anything!" he exclaimed, whenhe could speak; "telling me not to be alarmed when your trap worked,and then nearly having a fit yourself. But let's look, and see if yougot your game."

  There was no doubt about that, for a dead coyote was found in thepassageway between the stakes, looking for all the world like a thin,half-starved dog. This was the first time either of the boys had seenone of the animals close, and Roger was disgusted to think he hadwasted a charge of powder and a bullet on the miserable beast.

  "That trap will do for once, but I'm done shooting such scurvythings," he declared, as he dragged the game out a short distance, andleft it, in the hope that some of the other coyotes would dispose of itbefore morning; which they certainly did, for they could soon be heardsnarling and quarreling as though there were too many guests at thebanquet.

  After that, when the coyotes howled, and made things disagreeable,Roger would take up his gun, fondle it for a minute, as temptationwhispered at his heart, and then with a shake of his head he wouldplace it once more on the ground as though he could not be coaxed tocome down to such poor shooting. And so long as the miserable bruteskept clear of the camp, and did not annoy their horses, the chanceswere that they would be left alone to continue their nightly serenade.