CHAPTER XX

A PUZZLING TRAIL

The next morning Hugh put a light load on the lame horse, and they started down the stream. The going was fairly good, through open timber, and at last they came to what Hugh said was the main river, and followed that down. There was a good game trail all the way, and they went pretty fast, but Hugh stopped early because he did not want to tire his cripple. The horse, however, was in good heart and fed eagerly, and Hugh said that it was all right.

For several days their journey down the Sweetwater was without incident. They reached the open country, where there were many antelope, and saw two or three bunches of elk. Several times Jack tried fishing in the river, but without success, as Hugh had prophesied, saying: "You won't find any trout in this stream, nor in any other stream that runs into the North Platte, without they've been put there. There's lot's of trout in the South Platte, and just as soon as you strike the tiny little creeks that run from springs on the other side of the Divide you can catch from them all the small trout you want; but there are none in the North Platte."

"But why is that?" said Jack.

"You can't prove it by me," said Hugh. "I don't know. I've heard tell that the trout in all the streams on this side of the mountains come from the other side;--that is, that they really belong on the west slope, but that somehow they got over on this side. Now, you take a place like Two Ocean Pass, that we heard about up in the Park, and other places that I have seen like that, where there's a low place on the Divide,--a place that often holds water, and from each end of which a little creek runs down, one going east, the other west. If the trout ran up the creek that goes west into this little pond on the Divide, why it might easy enough be that some of them would run down the creek that runs east. Anyhow, it's a sure thing that there are no trout in any of the North Platte waters that I ever saw, while in the South Platte, and in the Wind River, and the Bighorn, and the Yellowstone, and pretty much all the streams to the north, there are lots of trout. It always seemed queer to me that the North Platte don't have any."

One night in camp, as they were sitting around the fire after supper, Jack said, "Hugh, tell me a bear story. We've seen a lot of bears this trip and killed quite a lot. Were you ever badly scared by a bear? Of course that old bear charged us the other day, but I don't suppose you were scared by it, and I wasn't; but I'd like to know if you were ever really scared by a bear."

"Well," said Hugh, "I reckon I have been. I remember one time that a bear made me run pretty lively for a ways."

"How was it?" said Jack.

"Well," said Hugh, "it wasn't so very long ago, and I was up on the mountains back of the ranch trying to kill some meat. I had left my horse and gone quite a way without seeing anything, when I came over a ridge and looked down into a piece of timber. About a hundred yards off, lying at the foot of two or three trees, just in the edge of the timber, I saw a kind of a black pile, and for a little while I could not make out what it was. I stopped and looked, and presently a part of the pile got up, and a bear began to walk around, and then another, and then a third got up, and they all walked around the others that were lying there, and looked as if they were snarling and wanted to fight. I saw in a minute that there were too many bears for me to tackle and was just about to back off over the hill and clear out, when one of them saw me and started running toward me as hard as he could. I knew then it was no use to run, and I sort of braced myself, and got a half a dozen cartridges in my hand, and waited until the bear got up within fifteen or twenty steps of me, and then fired at it, and turned and ran as hard as I could. I didn't hear anything following me, and presently looked over my shoulder, and saw that there was nothing in sight; but I kept on running until I got out of wind, and then I went to my horse as quickly as I could. When I had mounted I went back, went round a little way, and rode up over the hill in another place and looked down, and there was nothing alive in sight. I went pretty carefully along the ridge until I got to the place where I had stood, and then I went down to where the bear had been when I shot. There was plenty of blood there, but that was all. Then I went down to the tree and found that these bears--and there must have been a half-dozen of them--had dug down into the ground under the trees and had been lying there, as a dog sometimes digs in the dirt and lies there to get cool.

"The bears had started off together, but it was hard to tell just what they had done. I followed them for quite a way, and some of them must have left the bunch, for when I got to a big snow-drift--it was toward the end of June, and there were plenty of big drifts that hadn't melted yet--there were only three of the bears together. The snow-drift was hard, and I walked along over it, leading my horse and following the tracks. The horse hardly sank in at all, and my feet made no impression on the snow; but the big bear,--the one that was bleeding,--sank in about six or eight inches every step, while the two others only sank in a half an inch. That must have been a big one. I followed them into the timber, and finally they went into a place where the spruces grew low and so thick that you could not see through them, and there I gave up the trail. I didn't want that bear bad enough to follow him into that place."

"Well, of course you never knew anything more about it than you do now," said Jack.

"No," said Hugh, "I never knew anything about it except what I learned from following the trail. The bear was hit somewhere in the breast or neck or head; he was bleeding from the front part of the body; and I expect the bullet must have knocked him down, or else he would have followed me and likely caught me. But it was about the longest and fastest run that I've made in many a year."

For some days they travelled down the Sweetwater, having an open easy road and making good progress. They passed the cañon at the mouth of the river where it enters into the Platte, and now felt that they were getting near home.

One morning as they were riding along, Jack noticed the trail of a big bunch of horses, driven fast, going the opposite way from themselves and turning off into the hills to the north. He asked Hugh who would be driving a bunch of horses through that country, and where they were going; but Hugh could not tell him.

"I don't know anybody, son," he said, "who would be taking horses through here, and I don't know where they'd be taking them to, without it's up to some small town north, or up to the new railroad, and then I don't see why they should be coming this way, unless perhaps they wanted to get over on Powder River and follow that down. The railroad, I hear, is pushing west from the Missouri, and it may be that some contractor came down here to get horses. And yet that don't seem right either. These are not work horses,--you can see that from their tracks,--and besides that there are lots of colts with them. If it was a few years back, I should think that a bunch of Indians had gone through; but then there are no travois trails, and I don't know what it is. Might be horse thieves; it's been so the last few years that people are stealing stock some."

The trail came from down the river, and they had followed it for some miles when a dark spot seen on the bottom showed a large animal lying down. Hugh rode over and found it to be a dead horse. He waved to the boys, who followed him, and they sat there on their horses, looking down at it. The animal had been dead perhaps a day; it lay on its side, and the brand was plainly visible. As Jack looked at the brand he recognized it as his uncle's, and he looked at Hugh in perplexity to see what this could mean. For a time Hugh said nothing, and then getting down from his horse, he looked more closely at the brand, and then, re-mounting, said to the boys, "We'll camp right here; over in that bunch of timber."

It was but little after midday, and Jack knew that something important must have happened, but he asked no questions, waiting for Hugh to speak. After they had unsaddled, and put up the lodge, Hugh told the boys to picket the three riding horses while he got dinner. Jack had told Joe about the brand, and both boys were a good deal excited, wondering what was coming next.

After they had eaten, Hugh filled his pipe and said: "Now boys, I don't know what all this means, but to me it looks as if a gang of horse thieves had been riding our range and had driven off a bunch of horses, and among them some of ours.

"I know that three-year-old filly lying over there perfectly well. She had her first colt this spring. It looks to me as if she had been run so hard that it killed her. Maybe she got a chance to fill herself up with water, somewhere back. But anyhow, there she is, and she came from the ranch, and what is more, she never was sold to anybody. She's been driven here, and driven so hard that it killed her. Now I am going to find out, if I can, what this means. I am going to see if I can find this bunch of horses, and see whose they are and who has got them. If they, or any part of them, belong to us, or came from our country, why we'll get them back if we can. Of course if we can't get them back, why they've got to go on. I don't think there are enough horses in Wyoming to pay for the life of either of you two boys; but if these horses have been stolen I reckon we can get them back, and I am mighty sure we'll try.

"Now, presently, as soon as the horses have eaten, I am going off on the trail of this bunch. I want you boys to stop right here until I come back, and if I should not come back in the course of three days, I want you to go to the ranch and tell them what you've seen. It will be no trouble to get back home. You'll know when you get to Casper or to Fetterman, and you can cross the river most anywhere there, and then it's pretty nearly a straight shoot south. You and me have ridden enough around the country, Jack, so that you know the principal hills, and I'm sure you'll know Rattlesnake Mountain when you see it. You know where the ranch lies from there. You've got plenty of grub, and it's only a little more than two days hard ride to get home.

"But I expect that you'll see me back here about day after to-morrow, in the morning, and then I'll have something to tell you:--either that I haven't found the stock, or else that I have: and what it is; and who it belongs to.

"Now, I want some grub--just some of that dried meat. I won't have a chance to kindle a fire while I'm gone, and I've got to ride pretty fast and can't carry much. One thing I must have though, and that is your glasses, son."

Jack rose and went into the lodge and brought out his glasses and gave them to Hugh, who opened them, looked at the clasp of the case, and then, shutting it and seeing that the spring was in good order, tied a buckskin string around it. As the sun fell toward the west he sent one of the boys to bring in a horse and said to him, "Let old Baldy stay out there, and fetch the dun; he's stronger, and fatter, and tougher than any of the rest.

"Now, boys," he said, after he had mounted, "this next two or three days will be business; you want to forget you're boys, and think that we may have to do something pretty hard and pretty active before long. Don't go off hunting; don't neglect your horses; stay 'round camp, and keep a good lookout during the daytime. If you see anybody coming, get your horses in close and tie them among the trees. Keep your riding horses on picket all the time, and at night keep them pretty close to the lodge." Then he rode off.

"Well," said Jack, as Hugh's form grew smaller and smaller in the distance, "what do you suppose this means, Joe?"

"I don't know," said Joe, "except what Hugh said. If he finds these horses belong to your uncle, why I expect maybe he'll come back, and we'll have to go up there and kill the man that stole them, and take them back."

"Oh, nonsense, Joe, Hugh didn't mean anything like that. Don't you know, he said there weren't horses enough in Wyoming to pay for our lives? That means that there isn't going to be any fighting."

"Well," said Joe, "maybe then if he finds they're your horses, we'll have to go up there and steal them, and take them back that way."

Jack slapped his thigh with his hand, as he said, "That would be bully, wouldn't it? It would be real fun to steal horses, and have all the excitement of it, and yet know that you were not doing any harm, only getting back your own.

"Well, anyway," he continued, "we've got to look out mighty sharp for things, for whatever Hugh said has got to be done. I remember one time when I failed to do as he told me, and I got the worst scare that I ever had in all my life. That was the time when Hezekiah and young Bear Chief caught me in swimming." Joe grinned appreciatively, as he said, "I heard about that a good many times."

"I suppose you have," said Jack; "that's always been a good joke on me."