The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Lost Claim
Page 20
CHAPTER XIX
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS
Fortunately, however, their fall proved to be a very short one, thoughto Tad it seemed as if they had been falling for an hour. Boy andhorse landed on a soft, mossy bank, rolling over and over, the ponykicking and squealing with fear, until, finally, both came to a stopat the bottom of the hill.
Tad was unharmed, save for the unmerciful treatment he had receivedduring his record-breaking journey. Yet, he proposed to take nofurther chances of losing his horse, if he had the good fortune tofind the animal still alive. Tad came up like a rubber ball. With aquick leap, he threw himself fairly on the pony's side. The impactmade the little horse grunt, his feet beating a tattoo in the air inhis desperate struggles to free himself.
"Whoa!" commanded Tad sharply, sliding forward and sitting on theanimal's head, which position he calmly maintained, until the pony,realizing the uselessness of further opposition, lay back conquered.
Yet the boy did not rise immediately. Instead, he patted the pony'sneck gently, speaking soothing words and calming it until the animal'squivering muscles relaxed and it lay breathing naturally.
"Good boy, Jimmie," he said, recognizing the pony as Ned's. "Now,after you have rested a bit we'll see what we can do about gettingback to camp. If I'm any judge, you and I are not going to have a veryeasy time of it on the back track, either, Jimmie."
Without a compass, with only a hazy idea of the direction in whichthey had been traveling, Tad's task indeed was a difficult one.
"I think we'll walk a bit, Jimmie," he confided to the pony, and,taking the little animal by the bridle, began leading it cautiously upthe slope, which he ascended by a roundabout course, remembering thejump they had taken on the way down. Tad was not likely to forgetthat.
The boy's eyes were heavy for want of sleep and his wounds pained himbeyoud words. After somewhat more than an hour's journey he pulled up,looking about him.
"I am afraid we two pards are lost, Jimmie."
The pony rubbed its nose against him as if in confirmation of thelad's words.
"And the further we go, the more we shall be lost. Jimmie, the bestthing for you and me to do will be to go to bed. Lie down, Jimmie,that's a good boy."
As Tad tapped the pony gently on the knees the little animal slowlylowered himself to the ground, finally rolling over on his side with asnort.
"Good boy," soothed Tad. Then snuggling down, with the pony's neck forhis pillow, the bridle rein twisted about one hand, Tad went as soundasleep as if he had not a care in the world, and without thought ofthe perils which the mountains about them held.
Yet some good fairy must have been watching over Tad Butler, for not asound broke the stillness until a whinny from Jimmie at last disturbedhis slumbers.
The boy opened his eyes in amazement. It was broad daylight.
Tad's first care was to tether the pony to a sapling, after which hesearched about until he found a mountain stream, in which he washed,feeling greatly refreshed afterward. He then treated the pony as hehad himself, washing the animal down, and allowing it to quench it'sthirst in the stream.
"Not much of a breakfast, is it, Jimmie? But you can help yourself toleaves. That's where you have the best of me. Not being a horse, Ican't eat leaves. I wonder where I am!"
Gazing about him inquiringly, the boy failed to recognize thelandscape at all. In fact, he did not believe he ever had seen itbefore. When the sun rose he declared to himself that it had comeright up out of the west. What little sense of direction he might havehad left was entirely lost after this, and Tad sat down to thinkmatters over.
Once he raised his head sharply and listened. He was sure that he hadheard a shot, far off toward the rising sun.
Tad wished with all his heart, that he had his rifle with him, for herealized that with it he might be able to attract attention.
"I certainly cannot sit here and starve to death," he decided afterJimmie had satisfied his own hunger from the fresh green leaves. "Comeon, Jimmie; we'll go somewhere, anyway."
Saying which, Tad methodically patched the broken bridle reintogether, mounted the pony's bare back and set off to climb the lowmountain that loomed ahead of him.
He had gone on thus for nearly two hours, without finding any trace ofeither the camp or his late companions, when a sound off in the bushesto the right of him caused him to pull Jimmie up sharply. Jimmiepricked up his ears and whinnied.
"That's strange," muttered Tad. "He wouldn't be likely to do that ifit was a wild animal over there. Judging from past experiences, he'drun."
Once more did Jimmie set up a loud whinny, and to Tad's surprise anddelight, the signal was answered by a similar call off in the sagebrush.
"It's a horse. I believe it's one of the ponies," cried Tad, turninghis mount in the direction from which the sounds had seemed to come,and galloping rapidly toward the place. Next, the boy uttered a shoutof joy.
His delight was great, after he had penetrated the sage, to comesuddenly upon a pony contentedly munching a mouthful of green leaves,and gazing at him with great wondering eyes.
"Texas!" shouted the boy.
Tad had indeed come upon his own faithful little pony.
"Texas, you rascal, you come right here. What do you mean by runningaway from me like this?"
Texas swished his tail, shaking his head and stamping his feet as ifin mute protest at his owner's chiding.
Yet the pony made no attempt to run away as his master rode up besidehim. Leaping to the ground, Tad petted the animal, throwing his armsabout its neck, as if he had found a long lost friend. The two ponies,too, rubbed noses, and in other ways expressed their satisfaction atonce more being together.
Now, reassured, and almost as well satisfied as if he had eaten ahearty breakfast, Tad mounted his own pony, and, taking Jimmie in tow,pressed on once more, hoping eventually to come out somewhere near thecamp.
But the boy's companions had not been idle. Lige had prepared theirbreakfast without waking them. When he called them they sprang up,rubbing their eyes, and a few minutes later gathered around the hotmeal.
"What is the first thing this morning?" asked Ned after learning thatTad had not yet returned.
"Breakfast," answered the guide. "Next, we'll look for the ponies,then go after Master Tad."
More fortunate in their search than they had hoped for, the partywithin the hour succeeded in rounding up all the ponies save Jimmieand Texas. One of the two they knew Tad had gone away with, so, aftera council, it was decided to take the animals they had captured andmake an effort to find Tad Butler.
"I'm going to try an experiment," announced Lige, after they hadreturned to camp with the stock.
Calling the hounds, Ginger and Mustard, to him, the guide allowed themto sniff the saddles and saddle cloths of Jimmie and Texas. Afterthat, he showed them Tad Butler's hat.
The intelligent animals, after sniffing attentively at the articles,looked up at the guide as much as if to say: "Well, what about it?"
"Go after them! Fetch them, Ginger and Mustard!" he urged.
With noisy barks, the dogs began running about the camp with noses tothe ground, sniffing at the ponies again and again, the little partyin the meantime, watching them with keen interest.
All at once, with a deep bay, Mustard struck out for the bushes,followed an instant later by Ginger.
"They've got it! They've got it!" shouted Lige. "That's the way Tadwent. Now, if those brutes don't get sidetracked on the trail of abob-cat, we ought to round up some of our missing friends."
Lige bade Ned to accompany him on Jo-Jo, and directed the others toremain in camp--not to move from it until their return. Then the twohorsemen set off at a gallop, following the swiftly moving dogs.
Lige knew that he was on the right track, for Tad, as he was draggedthrough the bushes, had left a plainly marked trail--that is, plainto the experienced eyes of the mountain guide, who nodded his headwith satisfaction as he not
ed the course the dogs were taking.
Tad pulled up his pony, and, leaning forward, listened intently.
He faintly caught the distant baying of a hound.
Placing a hand to his mouth, he gave a long, piercing war whoop.
The dogs' baying seemed to come nearer. Now and then, as the animalssank into a ravine, the sound would be lost momentarily, only to betaken up again with added force when the crest of the hill wasreached.
Once more, Tad sent out his long, thrilling war-cry.
It was answered by a rifle shot, but from the perplexing echoes he wasunable to place it. The ponies now pricked up their earsinquiringly. Jimmie snorted, and, for the moment, acted as if he wereready to bolt again. Tad slapped him smartly on the flanks, sternlycommanding him to stand still.
"There they are!" cried the boy, as the dogs, stretched out to theirfull lengths, with tails held straight out behind them, swept down agentle slope on the other side of the valley, and, taking the hill onhis side, rose rapidly to the pinnacle where he was sitting on hispony.
"Ginger! Mustard!" was the glad cry uttered by Tad Butler, as thedogs, yelping with joy at the sound of his voice, came bounding tohim, while the ponies reared and plunged in the excess of theirexcitement.
Tad leaped from his mount, petting and fondling the hounds, huggingthem as they leaped upon him, and shouting at the top of his voice, ashe heard still another shot on the other side of the hill.
A few moments later, he made out the figures of two horsemen on theopposite ridge, following on in the trail of the dogs. They were NedRector and the guide, Lige Thomas.
The two set up a glad shout as they made out Tad, waving his arms andgesticulating.
"Come on, doggies! It's breakfast for us, now!" cried Tad, leaping toTexas' back, leading Jimmie dashing down the hill to meet the oncominghorsemen.
"Hooray!" welcomed Ned Rector.
And amid the shouts of the boys and the barking of the dogs, rescuersand rescued drew swiftly toward each other.