Kiddie the Scout

by Robert Leighton

  CHAPTER XIV

  LONE WOLF CANYON.

  They were not long in crossing to the farther side of the lake andmaking a landing within the entrance to Lone Wolf Canyon. Neither ofthem had ever been here before, and they were disappointed in theprospect presented by the steep walls of barren cliff and the sunlessgloom.

  "Seems ter me we may as well leave our traps in the canoe," said Rube."There ain't much chance of findin' any game where there's no bush forthe wild critters ter hide, an' no herbage for the little 'uns ter feedon."

  "It's the kind of place where our guns'll be of more use than thetraps," Kiddie added. "I c'n make out a beaten track winding downamong the rocks there. 'Tain't a human footpath, I reckon. Guess itwas made by mountain goats, antelopes, deer, foxes, wolves, an' evenbuffalo, comin' down t' th' water for their evenin' drink. Have aclose look, an' see if you can distinguish any footprints."

  Rube examined the ground at various points, particularly near thewater, where it was moist.

  "Quite right, Kiddie," he reported. "It's sure a water trail. I madeout the tracks of a bear and a lynx; an' thar's heaps of others thatmight be any of the critters you've named."

  "There's birds as well," said Kiddie, "eagles, hawks, wild turkeys,grouse."

  "I've never seen a eagle close at hand," Rube regretted. "I want to,badly. Did y' ever shoot one, Kiddie?"

  "No, I've no use f'r a dead eagle. Caught one in a fox-trap once, inLost Man's Gulch. Hadn't visited that trap for several days. When Iwent to it, there was a fine male eagle in it, an' all round about werethe remains of rabbits an' birds. Couldn't make out at first just howthat trapped eagle had gotten so much food. The rabbits an' lambs an'grouse didn't sure go up an' ask him ter kill an' eat them, and tharwasn't any humans near to take pity on him. Well, I watched from adistance, an' after a while I see the eagle's mate fly down an' givehim a cub fox. That's how it had been all the time."

  "Say, what did you do then, Kiddie?" Rube asked.

  "Went an' opened the trap an' came away with two fine tail feathers anda nasty scratch on the arm," Kiddie answered, turning from the canoe tosearch for a suitable pitch for the camp.

  He found a good place on a stretch of sloping ground between two highrocks at the edge of the lake, and in a very little time the teepee waserected, a fire well kindled, and the camp in order.

  Their store of food had been almost exhausted on the island, where theyhad not set their traps and had caught only fish. They still hadabundance of flour, however, as well as tea, sugar, tinned milk, andrice; and Kiddie was confident in the prospect of being able soon toadd meat to his larder.

  On that same evening of their arrival in Lone Wolf Canyon, he went outwith his gun and climbed the mountain side in search of game. But hereturned to camp without having fired a shot, and with only a capful ofthimbleberries as spoil.

  "Didn't you see anything?" Rube questioned.

  "Oh, yes," said Kiddie, "I saw plenty--a big-horn antelope that was toofar away for a shot, a herd of black-tail deer, still farther away, afamily of rattlesnakes, a skunk, and a racoon. And you'll beinterested to know that there's a pair of white-tail eagles nestin' onone of the crags up the canyon. I got a good view of them from theopposite side."

  "I'm goin' ter have a look at those eagles," decided Rube. "I'll goto-morrow evenin' the same time as when you were there, an' whenthey're likely to be at home."

  On the following evening his expedition was interfered with by the factthat earlier in the day Kiddie had stalked and killed a black-tail deerand needed Rube's help in carrying the carcass into camp and cutting itup for venison.

  But Rube was not to be denied a sight of the eagles, even if he couldnot hope to capture an eaglet and take it home with him as a pet.

  "I see you're preparin' yourself for a climb up those crags, eh?" saidKiddie on the next afternoon. He spoke without encouragement.

  "Yep," Rube nodded. "Any objections t' offer?"

  "Not exactly objections," returned Kiddie. "I was only thinkin'."

  "A habit you have--thinkin'. What was you thinkin', Kiddie?"

  In response, Kiddie looked around at the mountains and the sky.

  "Wind's changed," he said. "Looks like rain, don't it? Might keep offtill after sunset time, though."

  "Guess I'll chance it, anyway," resolved Rube.

  Kiddie had told him exactly where the eagles' eyrie was situated andhow he might most easily and safely approach it, first by ascending thegradual slope of the mountain and then working his way round on theface of the precipice, and then again ascending by a craggy cleft thatwould bring him close to the nesting-place. And Kiddie's directionsand advice were always too practical to be ignored. Rube followed themexactly.

  It would have been well for him if before starting he had also paidmore serious heed to Kiddie's suggestion regarding the weather. ButKiddie had not insisted. Like Rube himself, he had not foreseen morethan a mere evening shower of refreshing rain.

  In Rube's absence, Kiddie occupied himself with the ordinary work ofthe camp. He was always scrupulously orderly and methodical; neverallowing any refuse to accumulate, always regulating the fire to hisrequirements, washing up after every meal, and having a fixed place foreach utensil and for the different kinds of food and stores.

  All of his camps were ordered on a similar plan; so much so that onewas a duplicate of another, differing only in situation and naturalsurroundings.

  It was the same with his packing. The things that were most urgentlyneeded were always packed last, to be ready to hand on his arrival at anew pitch.

  Over his work, Kiddie watched Rube climbing the mountain side, and onceor twice he whistled to him to let him know that he was going allright. But very soon Rube disappeared into the brooding gloom of thecanyon, and Kiddie continued with his work until every tin-pot shonelike silver and the whole camp was faultlessly tidy.

  "Queer how fond of that boy I've got to be," he said to himself. "I'mmissing him already." He glanced round at the mountain tops and thelowering clouds. "Don't like the look of that mist that's rollingdown," he reflected. "He ought to turn back; but I don't suppose hewill. Hullo! he's disturbed the eagles! I hope he got a good view ofthem first."

  The majestic pair of birds had taken wing, and were now gliding onseemingly motionless pinions through the misty air. Kiddie watchedthem as they crossed over the lake, growing smaller and smaller untilthey became tiny specks in the distance and were lost to sight amongthe dark ravines of the Rattlesnake Range.

  At dusk, when it was time for Rube's return, Kiddie got ready somevenison cutlets and chipped potatoes for frying with them for supper.But before beginning his cooking he waited until he should hear Rube'ssignal call from afar. He sat by the fire listening for it with hiseyes bent on the slope of the hill where he expected Rube to appear.

  The long minutes went by, but he heard no signal call and saw no signof his companion. Still, he was not anxious. Rube might be shelteringfrom the rain under the lee of some rock.

  The mist on the mountains thickened, the darkness of night and thedrizzling rain blotted out all landmarks.

  Kiddie whistled at regular intervals--a long, penetrating whistle itwas. He piled more fuel on the fire, so that the glow might serve as aguide. He knew that there would be no use in going out in search ofRube. They might so easily miss each other in these trackless wilds;unless indeed, Rube was hurt and unable to move about. Climbing in thefog among rocks slippery with rain and wet moss, he was likely enoughto have missed his footing and injured a limb in his fall.

  This thought that Rube was possibly lying helpless on the crags beganto worry Kiddie as the night grew late. He blamed himself for havingallowed the boy to go forth alone on such a hazardous adventure.

  "It's the kind of thing I'd have done myself when I was his age," hereflected. "I can't blame Rube. But I ought to have stopped him fromgoing when I saw that there was rain coming on and saw the mistgathering on the
hills. Pity we didn't bring the hound with us afterall. Sheila would sure have found him."

  Fearing that he might yet have to go out in search of the boy, hecooked his own supper. He had already packed all his stores under theshelter of the wigwam and the canoe, covering the latter with theground-sheet. He had also lighted the hurricane lamp and suspended itfrom the top of the totem pole.

  He ate his supper in the teepee, but more than once got up from thesolitary meal to open the door-flap and look out searchingly in thedarkness for signs of Rube.

  Towards midnight the light of the moon behind the clouds lessened thesurrounding darkness. He could dimly distinguish the mountain ridges,outlined against the sky. The rain had ceased. The mist had liftedfrom the heights; but it still hung in fantastic layers between thewalls of Lone Wolf Canyon.

  "If it's only the fog that's kept him, he ought to be back in campwithin another hour," he told himself, as the moon broke through a rackof drifting clouds.

  He waited for a while, and then renewed his whistling, sending messagesin the Morse code, which Rube very well understood.

  But no answer came; only the repeated echoes of his own shrill whistle.

  An hour went by, and yet another hour.

  "Rube's wise in his way," Kiddie meditated. "I guess he's having asleep up there rather than risk his neck by climbing down thatprecipice in the dark. There's no moonlight deep down in the canyon.Quite right of him to wait until sunrise."

  Thus arguing, Kiddie entered the teepee, dropped the door-flap, andturned into his sleeping-bag.

  But he did not sleep. All the while he lay listening and at the sametime trying to realize just what had happened to Rube. It was hisexcellent habit when puzzling out any such problem as this to imaginehimself to be the other person and to figure himself in that otherperson's situation. He did not consider what he himself would do inthe circumstances, but what the other, having a different character,would attempt.

  And so it was now. He imagined himself to be Rube Carter climbingacross the face of a steep precipice overhanging a chasm so deep andnarrow that the level strip of rocky ground at the base of it could notbe seen. A false step, a slip of foot or hand, would mean a fall tocertain death.

  But Rube was too good and cautious a climber to make a mistake. He hadgot near enough to the eagles to startle them into flight, and this hadhappened just before the mist had rolled down the mountain sides intothe canyon.

  Now, Rube knew well that to climb down a precipice is always moredifficult than the ascent; and that to attempt the descent in a thickmist was doubly perilous. Kiddie argued, therefore, that Rube hadeither remained where he was when overtaken by the mist, or else thathe had climbed farther up the mountain. This, indeed, was in any casethe safer way, and although it would mean a long and weary tramp backto camp, still he might be expected soon after daybreak.

  From earliest dawn until long after sunrise, Kiddie waited in hope, andwhen Rube did not return he resolved to go out in search of him.

  If Rube were seriously hurt, it would be necessary to take him home toBirkenshaw's with the least possible delay. Kiddie therefore packed upthe teepee and the stores in the canoe and left the latter ready forlaunching. He took his rifle and revolvers with him, filled hishaversack with food, and did not neglect to take his pocket box ofsurgical dressings. In case Rube should return in his absence, he lefta message in picture-writing on the paddle of the canoe.

  He followed Rube's direction over the shoulder of the mountain, andthen began to look for tracks, finding them now and again, andparticularly at the point where Rube had left the hill-side to beginhis difficult climb across the face of the precipice. Here he haddropped a stick that he had carried, and he had evidently sat down totighten the thongs of his moccasins. Kiddie had now no doubt of hisway. He knew that Rube would instinctively take the easiest andquickest course to the eagles' nest.

  He found the place without much difficulty, and had proof in somedetached fragments of moss and lichen that Rube had been here inadvance of him, and had been able to look down into the eagles' nest,where the female was even now sitting unconcerned on her eggs.

  Kiddie did not disturb her, as Rube had probably done. Instead, hesearched for signs of Rube himself.

  Yes, Rube had not attempted the perilous descent. He had waited untilthe rain had ceased and the mist had lifted. High up above where hestood, Kiddie saw the scratch of a slipping foot on the wet moss, whichshowed that Rube had climbed upward. Again, still higher up, there wasa similar mark, and above this the way was easy as a step-ladder,needing only very ordinary care, a sure foot, and steady nerves.

  At the top of the ascent Kiddie came out upon the farther side of LoneWolf Mountain, which now interposed between him and Sweetwater Lake.To reach the lake side he must either return as he came, or else crossthe next valley and work his way round the base of the mountain. Hejudged that Rube had not hesitated to take the latter and longer course.

  He walked round in a circle, searching for a track in the soft ground,and at last he came upon the impression of Rube's moccasins. Hefollowed their direction. Presently he realized that Rube had beenrunning and that his tracks were leading in quite an unexpecteddirection.

  Greatly wondering, Kiddie went on and on. Then he came to an abruptstop and stood staring in astonished alarm at the ground. At his feetlay two crumpled up eagle's feathers. A yard or so away from them wasRube's fur cap, pierced by an Indian arrow. And all around were theconfused impressions of Indians' feet.

  Kiddie drew a long breath as he picked up the boy's hat.

  "That's the way of it," he said. "That's why Rube never came back.He's been captured by Indians!"