CHAPTER XVII
THE PONIES STAMPEDE
Next morning the camp was stirring as the first gray streaks appearedon the eastern horizon.
Each saddle bag was quickly packed with hard tack, coffee and othernecessaries which might be easily carried, the rest of the space beingtaken up with cartridges and the like. Blankets were rolled, ready tobe strapped behind the saddles on the ponies' backs.
The luggage was to be reduced to the absolute needs of the party, butwith the possibility of having to remain out over night, theirrequirements were greater than if they had intended to return the sameevening.
Before they had finished their hurried breakfast, Ben Tackersappeared, accompanied by two vicious looking hounds, whose red eyesand beetle brows made the boys hesitate to approach them at first.
However, after the Pony Riders had tossed small chunks of cooked bearmeat to them, the animals, by wagging their tails, showed that nothingneed be feared from them.
No sooner were the guns brought out than the dogs, beginning tounderstand what was in the air, bounded from one to another of thelads, barking and yelping with keen delight.
All was activity in the camp. Ponies were quickly rubbed down, saddledand bridled, blankets strapped on, and, at a command from Tad Butler,the young hunters fairly threw themselves into their saddles. Theparty moved off, with the enthusiastic riders waving their hats andshouting farewells to those who had been left behind.
Jose swung a dishpan, grinning broadly, while the Professor smiled andnodded at the departing horsemen. In a few moments the voices of theboys had become only a distant murmur.
"Come into my tent a moment, Mr. Tackers," invited the Professor.
The old mountaineer accepted the invitation apparently somewhatgrudgingly.
"I hear considerable about gold being found in this neighborhood,occasionally, Mr. Tackers. What has been your experience, may I ask?"
"There's some as has found pay dirt," answered Ben. "But I reckon BenTackers don't bother his head about it."
"Hm-m-m-m," mused the Professor. "What is the nearest railroad stationto this place?"
"Eagle Pass. 'Bout twenty miles from here, due east."
"How long would it take you to make the trip there and back?"
"Wouldn't make it again. Just been there. Haven't any horse."
"I have a horse, Mr. Tackers, and I should very much like to have youmake this trip for me," announced the Professor, coming directly tothe point. "I will pay you well for your trouble, but with theunderstanding that you say nothing of it to anyoue. The errand onwhich I am asking you to go is a confidential one. You will notmention it even to Lige Thomas. And, of course, it goes without sayingthat I do not wish the boys to know about it, either."
Ben peered at the Professor from behind his bushy eyebrows, withsuspicion plainly written in his beady eyes.
"What for?" he grunted.
"That I cannot tell you--in fact it is not necessary for you toknow. When you get there, all you will be required to do will be tohand two packages to the express agent there, with instructions toforward them at once to their destination, which will be Denver."
"What'll you give?"
"How much will you charge?" asked the Professor.
Ben considered for a moment.
"'Bout fifty cents, I reckon," he answered hesitatingly, as ifthinking the amount named would be too much.
"I'll give you five times that," announced the Professor promptly.
"No; fifty cents 'll be 'bout right."
"How soon can you start?"
"Now, I reckon."
"Be ready in an hour, and I will have the packages for you. When willyou return?"
"To-night."
"Good. Now be off and get yourself ready. You know where my horseis. And, by the way, I shall want you to make the trip again no laterthan the day after to-morrow, as I shall expect an answer to mymessage by that time. For that service I shall be glad to pay you thesame."
"No; fifty cents will cover it all."
"Have it your own way."
Ben, understanding that the interview was at an end, rose and left thetent. Professor Zepplin then took one of the ore specimens from hispocket and packed it carefully in a small pasteboard box, wrapping andtying the package with great care.
Next, he wrote industriously for some twenty minutes. The letter hesealed in a large, tough envelope, after which he leaned back, lostin thought.
"Things couldn't be better," he muttered. Ben, upon his return,received the packages which he was to express, and a few moments laterhad ridden from camp on old Bobtail, headed for Eagle Pass.
"I rather think I have turned a trick that will surprise some people,"chuckled the Professor. "Perhaps I'll even surprise myself."
Later in the morning he strolled up to the cave entrance, hammer inhand, breaking off a bit of rock here and there, all of which hedropped into a little leathern bag that he carried attached to hisbelt. Yet the Professor wisely concluded not to take the chance ofentering the cave alone, much as he wished to do so.
The young hunters, in the meantime, were plodding along on theirponies on their way to the hunting grounds, which lay some ten milesto the northward of their camp. They found rough traveling. Instead offollowing the ridges, they were now moving at right angles to them,which carried the boys over mountains, down through gulches andravines, over narrow, dangerous passes and rocky slopes that theywould not have believed it was possible for either man or horse toscale.
"Regular goats, these ponies," said Tad proudly. "Regular trickponies, all of them."
"They have to be or break their necks," replied Walter.
"Or ours," added Ned Rector.
"I don't see any wild beasts, but I feel hungry," declared Stacy."My stomach tells me it's time for the 'chuck wagon,' as Lige Thomascalls it, to drive up."
"Tighten your belt--tighten your belt," jeered Ned. "Cheer up!You'll be hungrier bye-and-bye."
The boys munched their hard tack in the saddle, the guide beinganxious to get, before nightfall, to the grounds where Tackers hadadvised him the bob-cats were plentiful. Already the dogs were lollingwith tongues protruding from their mouths, not being used to runningthe trail in such warm weather. Now and then they would plunge into acool mountain stream, immersing themselves to the tips of their noseswhere the water was deep enough, and sending up a shower of glisteningspray as they shook themselves free of the water after springing tothe bank again.
It was close to the hour of sunset when the guide finally gave theword to halt. Lige prepared the supper while the boys bathed andrubbed down their ponies, after which they busied themselves cuttingboughs for their beds, which they now were well able to make withoutassistance from their guide.
Bronzed almost to a copper color, the lads were teeming with healthand spirits. Even Walter Perkins, for the first time in his life, feltthe red blood coursing healthfully through his veins, for he was fasthardening himself to the rough life of the mountains.
All were tired enough to seek their beds early. Wrapping themselves intheir blankets, they were soon asleep.
Midnight came, and the camp fire slowly died away to a dull, luridpile of red hot coals that shed a flicker of light now and then, assome charred stick flamed up and was consumed. A long, weird, wailingcry, as of some human being in dire distress, broke on the stillnessof the night.
The boys awoke with a start.
"What's that?" whispered Chunky, shivering in his bed.
"Nothing," growled Ned. "What did you wake me up for?"
Once more the thrilling cry woke the echoes, wailing from rock torock, and gathering volume, until it seemed as if there were manyvoices instead of only one.
The ponies sprang to their feet with snorts of fear, while the boys,little less startled, leaped from their beds with blanching faces.
The guide was already on his feet, rifle in hand.
Again the cry was repeated, this time seemi
ng to come from directlyover their heads, somewhere up the rocky side of the gulch in whichthey were encamped.
Even horses trained to mountain work had been known to stampede underless provocation. The frightened ponies suddenly settled back on theirhaunches. There was a sound of breaking leather, as the straps withwhich they were tethered parted, and the little animals were free.
"Stop them! Stop them! Jump for them!" roared the guide.
But his warning command had come to late. With neighs of terror, theanimals dashed straight through the camp, some leaping over the boys'cots as they went.
"Catch them!" thundered Lige. "It's a cougar stampeding them so he cancatch them himself."
The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Lost Claim Page 18