No answer came back, and, walking up the stream a short distance, Dave repeated the call. Still there was no reply.
"That's queer," he told Roger. "I wonder why he doesn't reply?"
"I am sure I don't know," said the senator's son. "Let us look for him." And both started after Phil, wondering what could be wrong.
* * *
CHAPTER XXVIII
UP TO THE MOUNTAIN TOP
Dave and Roger walked up the stream a distance of several hundred yards. They continued to call Phil's name, but as before, no answer came back.
"I must confess, Roger, I don't like the looks of things," said Dave, gravely. "If Phil was all right, he'd surely answer us."
"I think so myself, Dave—unless he was only fooling us."
"I don't think he'd do that, under the circumstances. He'd know we would be greatly worried."
On walked the two chums, until they reached a point where the mountain stream came tumbling over some great rocks. Here they found Phil's fishing rod and also the string of fish he had caught.
"Gracious, Dave! Supposing some wild animal has carried him off!" ejaculated the senator's son.
Dave did not reply, for he knew not what to say. He advanced to the top of the rocks and peered over on the other side.
"There he is!" he shouted. "Phil! Phil! Are you hurt?" he called.
Only a faint moan came back, and scrambling up the rocks beside Dave, Roger saw the trouble. Phil had slipped from the rocks into the mountain torrent. In going down his legs had caught in an opening below, and there he was held, in water up to his knees, while the water from some rocks above was pouring in a steady stream over his left shoulder.
"Can't you get up, Phil?" asked Dave.
"Hel—help!" was the only answer, delivered in such a low tone that the boys on the rocks could scarcely hear it.
"He can't aid himself, that is sure," murmured Dave. "Roger, we have got to get him out of that—before that water pouring over his shoulder carries him down!"
Both boys looked around anxiously. Phil was all of fifteen feet below them and there seemed to be no way of reaching the locality short of jumping, and neither wanted to risk doing that.
"If we only had a rope," said Roger.
"We might double up a fishing line," mused Dave. Then his face brightened. "I have it—the pole!"
He ran back and speedily brought up Phil's pole, and around it he wound the line, to strengthen it and hold the joints together. Then he leaned down.
"Phil, can you take hold?" he questioned.
The youth below raised his hands feebly. But his strength was apparently gone, and he could do little to save himself.
"Hold the pole, Dave, I'll go down!" cried Roger. "But don't let me slip!"
While Dave braced himself on the rocks as best he could and gripped the pole and line, the senator's son went over the rocks and down, hand over hand. This was easy, and in a minute he stood beside Phil in the water. The torrent from above poured over his back, but to this he paid no attention. He saw that Phil was on the point of fainting, and if he sank down he would surely be drowned.
Letting go his hold on the fishing pole, Roger felt down in the water, and then discovered that Phil's feet were crossed and held by a rock that was balanced on another rock. In coming down, Phil's weight had caused the space between the two rocks to widen, then the opening had partly closed, holding the feet as if in the jaws of some big animal.
It was no easy matter for Roger to shift the upper rock, and once he slipped and went flat on his back in the water with a loud splash.
"Be careful!" warned Dave from above. "Maybe I had better come down and help you," he added.
"No, I—I'm all ri—right!" spluttered the senator's son, freeing his mouth of water.
At last one of the rocks was moved and Phil staggered forward in the water. But he was too weak to help himself and had to lean on Roger.
"You can't pull us up!" shouted the senator's son. "We'll wade down the stream a bit."
Supporting the shipowner's son, Roger commenced to move down the mountain torrent. He had to pick his way with care, for the bottom was rocky and treacherous. Dave followed along the rocks above, until a spot was gained where he could leap down. Then he and the senator's son picked up Phil between them and carried him out, and up to a patch of grass, where they set the sufferer down in the sunlight.
"We'll take off his shoes and see how his feet and ankles look," said Dave, and this was done. They found the feet and ankles slightly swollen and discolored, but not seriously injured.
"Phil, supposing Roger and I carry you back to camp?" suggested Dave. "We can make an armchair and do it easily enough."
"If it isn't too much trouble I'd be glad to have you do it," answered the boy who had slipped over the rocks. "I can't walk yet."
The chums had often carried each other "armchair fashion" while at school, and soon Dave and Roger started off with Phil between them, and carrying the fishing pole and fish. On the way they rested several times and also gathered up their own outfits and catches.
Arriving at the camp, the fire was stirred up, and the lads hung up the most of their clothing to dry, while they took a good rubbing-down. Phil's feet and ankles were bathed in hot water and then soaked in some liniment Mrs. Endicott had made them bring along in case of accident. The injured lad was content to rest on a bed of cedar boughs, but declared that he would be as well as ever in the morning.
"But I am mighty glad you came when you did," he said, with deep feeling. "I could not have held up much longer—with that stream of water rushing down over my shoulder. I yelled and yelled, until I couldn't yell any longer."
"That must have been before we started to look for you," returned Dave. "After this you want to be careful how you climb around. Some of the rocks are loose and very treacherous."
Dave and Roger prepared a fine supper of broiled fish, and to this meal even Phil did full justice. As there was nothing else to do, the boys took their time eating. They had almost finished when they heard a shout from a distance.
"What's that?" cried Roger, and instinctively he leaped up and moved for his gun.
"It's Todd!" answered Dave. "Hello, Todd!" he yelled. "This way!"
The others joined in the cry, which was answered from a distance, and presently the cowboy appeared on his horse and leading Dave's animal.
"I reckon I'm just in time for a fish supper!" he cried, with a broad smile on his face. "Well, I'm hungry enough, with such a stiff ride. What's the matter with your feet?" he questioned, gazing at Phil's bandages.
The boys told the story of the trouble up the stream, and then related how they had shot the cougar, and exhibited the body of the slain beast. In the meantime they broiled some more fish, and made an extra pot of coffee and some flapjacks for the newcomer.
"Well! well! well!" cried Sid Todd, after a look at the dead cougar. "I reckon you youngsters know how to take care of yourselves. A mountain lion! Why, don't you know, most o' the cowboys would run a mile if they see that beast a-lookin' at' em? Such shootin' is great!"
"Well, we don't want to meet any more of them," answered Dave.
"No, the rest of them can keep their distance," added Phil.
"Did you get the deer home all right?" questioned Roger.
"Oh, yes, and the folks were a good deal surprised and pleased. The girls are going to have one of the deer stuffed and mounted, for the Wadsworth home. They said it would please Mr. Wadsworth and Professor—let me see—I reckon it's Professor Pans."
"No, Professor Potts," said Dave.
"Well, I knew it had something to do with cookin'-things," answered the cowboy. "Mr. Endicott told me to be careful and tell you not to shoot everything there was in the mountains, as he wanted to come out later for a shot or two."
"I guess there will be enough left after we get through," said Dave, with a smile.
The cowboy had had a hard ride and he was willing enough to eat his supper in
peace. Then he smoked a pipe of tobacco and turned in. He said the boys could keep a guard if they wished, but he scarcely deemed it necessary.
"Won't another mountain lion, or anything else, come around in a year," said he. "That jest happened that way, that's all." And after some talk among themselves the chums concluded to turn in, all hands, and let the camp and the horses take care of themselves.
The night passed quietly and all slept until the sun was well up in the heavens. Then, while the boys prepared breakfast and Phil attended to his bruised feet—which felt much better—Sid Todd told of some happenings at the ranch.
"The girls went out for a horseback ride, along with Mrs. Endicott," said he, "and, coming back, they met Link Merwell. They said he acted so disagreeable that they were afraid of him. Mrs. Endicott was very angry, and I think the boss will speak to Mr. Merwell about it."
"Link ought to be hammered good and hard!" cried Roger.
"The boss wishes the Merwells would sell out. But Mr. Merwell doesn't seem to want to budge. The girls were so afraid of Link they said they wouldn't go out again unless Mr. Endicott was along," continued the cowboy.
"If he molests the girls, he'll have another account to settle with me!" cried Dave.
"And me!" came promptly from his chums.
"He wanted to know where you fellows were, and said he was going out hunting himself."
"He needn't come near us," cried the senator's son. "We don't want him."
"Oh, he won't come near us—unless to make trouble, you may be sure of that," answered Dave.
The cowboy had left word at Star Ranch that the young hunters might remain out longer than originally intended, so the chums did not worry about getting back. All rested during the morning, and after dinner started on the trail up into the mountains.
"How is it, Phil?" asked Dave, on the way.
"Oh, I can ride very well," was the reply. "But I am rather glad I haven't much walking to do. But I think I'll be O.K. by to-morrow."
Sid Todd had been right about the climbing to be done during the last stage of the journey, and often the boys, as they looked ahead at the rocks before them, wondered how they were going to make progress. But the cowboy knew the trail, and up they went, the scenery every moment growing wilder and more impressive.
"This is an ideal spot for wild animals," said Dave. "I should think hunting would be very good."
Once they stopped to let the horses rest. They were out on a cliff and at a distance Sid Todd pointed out two nests perched up on the top of rocky crags. The nests were several feet in diameter.
"What are they?" questioned Dave.
"Eagles' nests," was the answer. "There are two of the eagles now," and the cowboy pointed out the big birds, floating lazily around between two distant mountain tops.
"A fellow would have difficulty in getting to those nests," was Phil's comment.
"Eagles usually build where nobody can git at 'em," returned Todd.
"I shouldn't care to shoot an eagle," said Dave. "Somehow, I'd feel a good deal as if I had shot at our flag."
"I think I'd feel that way, too," answered the senator's son.
"The eagle and Old Glory seem to be linked together," added Phil. "But I wouldn't mind catching a young eagle and taming him."
"You'd have your hands full doing it," said Sid Todd. "I know a cowboy who once caught an eagle, but the bird scratched him terribly and nearly took off one of his ears."
On they went again, until, an hour later, they gained the top of the mountain. Here they found a stiff breeze blowing, and it was much cooler than below.
"I see some game!" cried Dave, and pointed to a slope on the other side of the mountain. Two deer were in view.
Scarcely had Dave spoken when a shot rang out and one of the deer jumped as if hit. The other ran off and disappeared in the bushes. Then, slowly and painfully, the second deer limped away. A second shot rent the air, but the wounded animal was not touched, and a second later it followed its mate to cover.
* * *
CHAPTER XXIX
TWO ELK AND A BEAR
"I guess that hunter, whoever he is, will lose that deer," was Dave's comment.
"He won't if he knows how to follow the game up," answered Sid Todd. "That deer was badly wounded, and game can't run far over these rough rocks."
"Wonder who it was?" mused Phil.
"Can't tell that—so many folks come out here to hunt," answered the cowboy. "It might be some ranchman or cowboy, and it might be some city sportsman trying his luck."
"We may fall in with him later," said Dave. "If we do, I hope he proves a nice sort."
"Folks out here usually hunt on their own hook," said Todd.
The cowboy had in mind to pass to the north of the mountain top, and this they did, soon leaving behind the locality where the two deer had been seen. They saw nothing of the party who had fired the two shots.
"I hope he doesn't take us for game and shoot this way," said Roger, who had heard of just such accidents more than once.
"Well, we don't want to mistake him for game either," said Dave. "Whenever you shoot, be sure of what you are shooting at."
"Right you are," cried Sid Todd. "If hunters weren't too hasty there wouldn't be any accidents."
A little over half a mile was covered, and by that time the sun was sinking over the hills to the westward. A suitable spot was selected and the tent was pitched, and they prepared a supper of fish and venison, meat and crackers, washing it down with some chocolate that Roger made.
Early in the morning Sid Todd left the camp, to be gone the best part of two hours. He came back showing his excitement.
"A chance for elk, boys!" he cried. "But you must hurry and do a good bit of tramping."
"Can you walk, Phil?" asked Dave, anxiously.
"Just as well as ever," was the answer, and Phil took a turn around the camp to prove his words.
No time was lost in preparing for the hunt, and in less than ten minutes all were off, having tethered the horses in a spot they deemed safe. Their provisions they tied in skins and hung in the trees, so they might be safe from wild marauders.
It was a hard climb, over the rocks and among the bushes, and once the boys had to call a halt, to catch their breath. But Todd was afraid the elk would take themselves off, so he urged them on as much as possible.
"There were two elk, big fellows, too," he said. "If we don't bag at least one of 'em, we may not get another such chance all the time we are out here."
Presently they came to something of a hollow on the mountain side. Here was a fine spring of sparkling water, and all stopped long enough to get a refreshing drink. It was hot in the sun and all were beginning to perspire freely.
"If we get those elk we'll earn 'em," was Roger's comment.
"Right you are!" panted Phil.
"How much further have we to go?" questioned Dave.
"Not over a quarter of a mile," answered the cowboy. He was still in the lead and he had his eyes on the alert for the first glimpse at the big game.
The boys were pretty well winded when Sid Todd called a halt. They had reached a clump of cedar trees and beyond was an open spot among a number of loose rocks, with patches of rich mountain grass between.
"Gone!" said the cowboy, with a deep sigh.
"Gone!" echoed the three boys, in dismay.
"Yes, gone. They were right out yonder, grazing as peacefully as could be. Now I don't see 'em anywhere," continued the cowboy, mournfully.
"It's too bad!" murmured Dave. "Maybe you would have done better if you had fired on them."
"I wanted you lads to have a chance."
"Perhaps they are still in this vicinity," suggested Roger. "Let us take a look around."
The others were willing, and slowly and cautiously they made their way among the cedars and the big rocks, exposing themselves as little as possible, and speaking only in a whisper. They had the rifles and shotguns ready for action.
Half an hou
r's search took them to another dent in the mountain side. Here the grass was extra thick and inviting and a spring of water flowed quietly over the rocks.
"That's an ideal spot for a camp," said Phil to Dave, as they halted to view the scene.
Dave did not answer, for he had seen something moving in the bushes close to the water. He pointed in silence, and all gazed in the direction. Slowly a magnificent pair of antlers arose behind the bushes.
"One of the elk!" whispered Sid Todd.
"And there is the other!" came from Roger, and pointed to a rock twenty yards beyond the bushes.
"Now, boys, be careful," directed the cowboy. "This is the chance of your lives. Divide up the game to suit yourselves. I won't shoot unless I see the elk getting away from you."
The chums consulted among themselves, and Roger and Phil decided to aim at the elk nearest to them.
"Then I'll aim at the elk near the rock," said Dave. "I think I've got the best rifle anyway," he added.
All crawled forward, followed by Todd, and thus covered half the distance toward the game. The nearest elk was now less than a hundred yards away.
"They see us!" cried Phil, and hastily raised his firearm, and the others did the same. Then, as the elk bounded away, all three of the young hunters fired.
Both the animals were hit, but neither mortally, and as soon as possible the boys fired a second time. The elk were now together, and a bullet and some shot meant for one hit the other. One of the animals staggered and fell, got up, and staggered again, coming down on the rocks with a loud thud.
"You've got this one!" cried Sid Todd, in triumph. "Go after the other!"
The boys were not loath to do this, and away they went pell-mell, over the grass and around the rocks and bushes. The second elk was limping along, occasionally holding his left hind leg in the air. He did not seem to be going fast, but he dodged in and out among the rocks so quickly that to get another shot at him seemed impossible.
"If we can only get him into the open we'll have him!" cried Dave.
Dave Porter at Star Ranch Page 18