CHAPTER XVIII

JACK'S FIRST MOOSE

Travel down the stream next day was easy. The valley widened out, and the hills on either side grew lower. Twice during the march they came to broad meadows, partly overgrown with willows, old beaver meadows, Hugh said; and instead of going through them they went around close to the hills, so as to avoid any possible trouble from miry spots.

After supper that night at camp Hugh said to the boys, "I reckon pretty quick we'll turn off south and follow up some creek, so as to get over to the Divide, and cross down onto Sweetwater. If I ain't mistaken, before we get much further along we'll strike a big stream coming in from the south, and when we do, we've got to turn and follow that up. I've heard tell of a little town off here to the south, but I don't know where it's at, and we don't want to go to it, anyhow."

About noon next day they began to see a wide valley opening up to the south, and Hugh told them that this must be the creek he had been looking for. They did not follow the stream down to where the river from the south joined it, but cutting across southwest, climbed the hill, and journeyed through beautiful green timber in the direction in which they wished to go. Several times they came on beautiful mountain lakes lying in the timber, and while passing one of these Hugh stopped and pointed to the ground, and when Jack came along he saw there a track which he knew must belong to a moose. He wished that he might get a shot at a moose, and kept his eyes wide open as they journeyed along, but saw nothing. Two or three times during the day they rode near enough to the river they were following up to hear its rushing, and the noise of water-falls, but they could not see them. Hugh did not seem to be following any road at all,--there was not even a game trail,--but he wound in and out among the timber, keeping in the general direction from which the river came. About the middle of the afternoon he turned to the left, and worked down into the valley of the stream, which, though often narrow, sometimes spread out and showed charming little park-like meadows, in one of which they stopped to camp. After camp had been made, the horses attended to, and supper eaten, Jack said to Hugh, "Are there many moose in this country, Hugh?"

"Well," said Hugh, "I don't know exactly what you call many. There used to be plenty here, and I expect if a man was hunting he might run across one once in a while. Of course moose stick close to the timber and the brush, and you don't see them as easily as you do the elk, that feed on the bald hillsides or on the prairie."

"I'd like mighty well to get a shot at one," said Jack.

"Well," said Hugh, "it might be such a thing as you could do that, but you're not likely to, unless we stop for a day or two to hunt. We can do that most any time now, if we feel like it. We've got over the ridge, and there's no danger of any snow falling, to stop us, but of course it's getting cooler all the time. If you're going to kill an animal for meat you'd better kill a cow. On the other hand, if you want a big head, why of course you'll kill a bull; but the bulls are pretty poor eating now; they were better two weeks ago, just like the elk was. We've got quite a little way to go yet, and of course we've got to have meat to eat; but, on the other hand, we've got the hams of that sheep, and the piece of that little bear, and we're going through a good game country all the way, so that I wouldn't kill anything more until we need it."

"Well, Hugh, we've had lots of hunting; let's not kill anything more until we need it. Maybe there'll be a show down on the Sweetwater to get a moose."

"Well," said Hugh, "maybe there will be; yet this is a better place than that. But we'll be in good moose country for quite a way yet, and maybe you'll get a chance to kill a moose, if you want to very bad."

The stream that they were following up grew smaller and smaller, yet Hugh continued to follow it, and in the same southerly direction. He told the boys that this stream headed in the Divide, between Wind River and Sweetwater, and that when they came to the head of this creek it was only a short distance over to others running into some of the heads of the Sweetwater.

"It ain't far, and it ain't a high climb," he continued, "and after we strike the Sweetwater, it's a plain trail right down to the Platte, and then across that is home. I don't rightly know how far it is, but I reckon it's not far from two hundred miles."

"That means ten days then, Hugh, does it?"

"Well," said Hugh, "you might call it ten days. Of course that means if we don't have any trouble. If we should get into any difficulties, or lose a horse or two, or something of that kind, it might take us longer."

Three days later they had crossed over the Divide, between the Wind River and Sweetwater drainages, and were making their way through the timber down toward the Sweetwater. Camp had been made early. One of the pack horses had hurt its foot during the day, and had gone lame, and Hugh wanted to rest the animal for a day or two; otherwise it might become so lame that he would have to leave it behind. About the middle of the afternoon, Joe and Jack started out from camp to hunt, Joe taking the hills to the right of the camp, and Jack those to the left.

It was pleasant going through the green timber so quietly as to make no sound, and watching constantly between the tree trunks, to see the motion of any living thing that might appear. There were a few birds in the upper branches of the trees, and now and then a grouse walked out of the way. Jack entered one of those level pieces of forest where the trees stand a little apart and the ground is covered with the pale green stems of the little mountain blueberry, which in fact is not blue in color, but red. This little fruit is very delicious, and a favorite food for birds and beasts. Jack came to a patch where the berries were thick, and sitting down began to strip them from the stems and eat them. Now and then he could hear the whistle of a meat-hawk, the harsh grating cry of a Clark's crow, and the shrill scream of a hawk that soared far above the forest. Jack thought it most pleasant, and he liked to be there alone and just look about him, and see and listen. It seemed to him a place where at any moment some great animal might step into sight, and begin to feed or to go about any of the operations of its daily life, not knowing that he was there watching and enjoying it all.

And just as these thoughts were passing through his mind, something of this sort happened. It was not a very large animal, but the sight was a pretty one, none the less. He saw the slender stems of the huckleberry bushes shake, thirty or forty yards from him, and the shaking came nearer and nearer, and presently he was able to distinguish that a dozen grouse were coming toward him, feeding on the berries. He sat still, hardly daring to breathe, and before very long the birds were close to him, and in a moment more were all about him. He could see the old hen, larger than all the rest, and with frayed and faded plumage, while the young birds, but little smaller, were much more highly colored,--bright brown and white and bluish. They seemed sociable little creatures, for they were talking all the time, calling to each other much as a flock of young turkeys would call, and seeming uneasy if they became separated. There was one bird that wandered off quite a little to one side, and as the cries of its fellows became fainter as they passed along, the bird stood very straight, with its head much higher than usual, and erected the feathers of its head and neck so that they stood on end, giving it a very odd appearance. As soon as it had located the brood, the bird smoothed down its feathers and ran quickly toward the others. When the group got to where Jack was sitting, they paid no attention to him whatever. One of them stopped immediately in front of him, and looked carefully at his face, but at once resumed its feeding; and passing on both sides of him, they went on.

Jack did not wish to frighten them, and so turned his head and body very slowly to look after them, and he did it so carefully that the birds were not alarmed, but finally passed out of sight and hearing without being frightened.

This small adventure gave Jack very great pleasure, and he felt as if he had already been well repaid for his walk. Keeping on through the forest, he went down a gentle slope, and presently found himself at the edge of a little meadow, surrounding a very pretty lake. Nothing was to be seen there, and he stepped out of the bushes to go down to the water.

He was going along rather carelessly, holding his rifle in the hollow of his left arm, when from a bunch of willows just before him a huge black animal with horns rushed out, and trotted up the meadow toward the timber. Instantly Jack knew that it was a moose, and throwing his gun to his shoulder, he fired at the animal just before it reached the fringe of willows at the edge of the meadow. It seemed to him that the creature flinched a little and then went faster, but he could not be sure. What was certain was that it did not fall. Taking up the track, he followed it for some distance through the timber--not a difficult task, for the moose was trotting rapidly and throwing up dirt at every stride. At length, however, he came to a piece of rocky ground, where the tracks were much harder to follow, and presently he lost them and had to circle two or three times to find them, and from that on the work of picking them out was slow. Soon, too, he noticed that it was growing darker, and looking at the sky he concluded that the sun had set. He had a mile or two to go, and as he did not wish to lie out during the night, he reluctantly left the moose track and started back for the camp. He hurried as fast as he could, and made good progress; but after it really got dark it was impossible to go very fast. He did not feel like firing his gun, because that would be as much as to say to the people in the camp that he was lost, and he did not wish to do this. He worked his way along, therefore, keeping toward camp as nearly as he could, but more by guess than anything else, because the trees stood so close that the stars could not be seen. However, the little light that still lingered in the west gave him some idea of direction.

At last the ground began to slope in the direction in which he was going, and before long he saw in the sky the glare of a fire. He made sure that this was the camp, and hurrying along as fast as possible, frequently stumbling over rocks and sticks and occasionally running his face into the twigs of a dry spruce limb, he at last found himself near the bottom of the hill, and could see the gleam of the fire through the tree-trunks. Before long he was close to camp, and saw that Hugh and Joe had built quite a bonfire in front of the lodge. It was the reflection of this that he had seen in the sky.

As he walked up to the fire, Hugh said, "Well, here you are, eh? We didn't know but you calculated to lie out all night."

"Well," said Jack, "I didn't know but I'd have to do that; but I didn't want to, and so I kept going. I think perhaps I would have stopped and built a fire back in the timber if it hadn't been that I saw your fire, and kept coming."

"What kept you?" said Joe.

"Why, Joe," said Jack, "I saw a moose, the first moose I ever saw; and I had a good shot at it, running nearly straight away from me, and I ought to have killed it, but I didn't. I think I must have hit it; anyhow, I thought I saw it flinch when I shot, and it went through the timber in great shape. I followed the tracks quite a long way; but then it got dark, and I had to give it up and come back.

"I'd like to go out and look for it to-morrow, and I will, too, if we stay here."

"Well," said Hugh, "we'll stay here, all right enough. I want to rest up this horse's foot for a day or two. If I stay here and bathe that horse's foot, and keep him quiet, he's likely to be all right in two or three days. If we make him follow us over these hills now, he may get so that he can't use the foot at all.

"Pity you didn't kill your moose," he continued; "what do you think was the matter?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "I had as good a chance as I ever had at a running animal, but I think maybe I wasn't careful enough, and didn't hold low enough. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if I shot high on him. That seems to be my trouble often."

"Well," said Hugh, "you'd like to go to-morrow and see if you could follow him up and find him. Of course he won't be good for anything if you do find him, but you'll have the satisfaction maybe of knowing that you killed him."

"Won't be good for anything," said Jack; "how do you mean? You don't mean he'll spoil, just lying out for one night."

"Why, son, didn't you know that? Is it possible you've travelled with me all these months and haven't learned that unless you dress an animal as soon as it's killed it's going to spoil? It don't make any difference whether the weather's cold or warm, but if you leave a critter with the entrails in for four or five hours it is no good; the meat gets tainted."

"Well," said Jack, "That's news to me. I never heard that before."

"Oh," said Joe, "everybody knows that."

"Yes," said Jack, "everybody but me."

After Jack had put his gun in the lodge, he brought out the coffee pot and frying pan, and ate some food, and then sat there by the fire, very melancholy, because he had not got his moose.

"He had horns, Hugh," Jack said, "and if I should be able to find him to-morrow, I could bring those in, couldn't I?"

"Yes," said Hugh, "the horns won't be spoiled. It's only that the meat wouldn't be good to eat. Were his horns big?"

"No," said Jack, "I don't think they were very big; they stuck out on both sides. You see, I didn't get much of a look at him, except when he was running away. Then I could see his horns, but I wasn't looking at them; I was trying to pick out the place to shoot, and I didn't pick it out very well."

The next morning Hugh told the boys that they had better go out and see whether they could find the moose, or another one, but warned them to watch the sky, and keep their direction, so that they would be sure to get back. He warned them also to notice carefully, and not get over the Divide. So long as they stayed on this side, the streams running down toward the Sweetwater would always help them to find camp; but if they crossed the Divide and got into the Wind River drainage, then the streams would only confuse them, especially as the timber was thick, and the sky could not be seen, and so the direction could not be told from that. Jack did not attempt to go back to the point where he had lost the moose tracks, but instead kept off to the south, in order to cross the tracks again, and pick them up where they were plain. He felt sure that he and Joe would have no trouble in following them up to the point where the darkness had obliged him to give them up.

They soon found the tracks, and Jack, from his memory of the country passed over the night before, was able to follow them quite rapidly to the place where he had finally left them. Beyond here the trail was not hard to follow. The timber was thick and the ground damp; there was much moss, and the great hoofs of the moose tore this up, so that the trail was plainly visible; and here Jack had the first confirmation of his belief that he had hit the moose, for Joe called attention to a bush against which the animal had rubbed, and showed on it a little smear of dried blood.

By this time the moose had stopped trotting and was walking; and after a while they saw before them lying on the pale soil, among the tree-trunks, a dark object stretched out, which they presently recognized as the moose. He had lain down here and died as he lay. The body was rigid now and somewhat swollen. Although the moose was not a large one, to Jack he seemed enormous--much taller, longer, and deeper through than an elk, and with a huge ungainly head and a swollen upper lip.

"Well, Jack," said Joe, "what are you going to do now? You killed the moose, and you know it, but we can't take any of the meat. You might come up here and get the horns, if you want to pack them back with you, but it's no use to butcher the animal; you can see for yourself that the meat is spoiled."

"Yes," said Jack, "I suppose it is. I'm awfully sorry; I hate to see a great big lot of meat go to waste like this, but there's nothing to be done now. I ought to have shot better."

"Well, I'll tell you what let's do," said Joe: "let's go back to camp, and catch up our horses, and come up here and get those horns. In fact I guess we may as well bring a pack horse with us. Horns are awful unhandy things to carry on a saddle, but we can put the head on a pack so that it will ride well."

"Well," said Jack, "we may as well do that, I think," and they rose to go.

"I'll stick a knife in this carcass," said Joe, "and if I do that it will be pleasanter to work about when we get back."

He plunged his knife into the animal's side and there was an outburst of gas; then the two boys went back to the camp.