CHAPTER XX

LONG GUN IS AFRAID

From below them Jack and Nat could hear cries of alarm, and they could see several waving firebrands and note ghostly figures circling about the camp blaze.

"Can you stop your horse, Jack?" called Nat.

"I'm not going to try," was the reply. "I've got all I can do to hold on. How about you?"

"I'm in the same boat. I hope we don't strike anything, for if we do I'll shoot over his head and land I don't know where. This is fierce!"

"Hold on tight!"

"That's what I'm doing!"

The horses reached a place that was not quite so steep, and managed to stop sliding, running for a short distance. Then the slipping began again, but both animals were like cats on their feet, and seemed to take it all as a matter of course.

"We're almost there!" cried Jack as he saw the camp fire more plainly, and could distinguish Sam's and Bony's voices calling to them.

"I'm--glad--of--that," replied Ned brokenly, for he was bounding up and down in the saddle.

A minute later and the horses had come to a stop on the level ground where the camp was pitched.

"'Sanyoneurt?" asked Budge anxiously.

"No, I guess neither of us is hurt," answered Jack, "though we're some shaken up."

"Where in the world have you been?" asked Bony.

"What did you come down that way for?" was Sam's question.

"Were you lost?" inquired Budge.

"Heap long time gone," was Long Gun's contribution.

"Say, if you'll give us a chance we'll tell you," said Jack. "I wonder if the horses are hurt, though? I never expected to get down with them alive."

"Horses plenty much all right," announced the Indian after a short examination. "They do that afore. Slide down mountain many times. Know how--easy."

"Well, I'm glad they knew how," spoke Nat. "I thought it was an accident."

Then Jack told of the shooting of the deer, how they were lost in the bad lands, and how they found the horses and slid down to the camp fire.

Long Gun, in his broken English, explained that the horses which they had were often used by hunters, who thought nothing of sliding down a favorable place in the side of the mountain on the backs of their steeds. Jack's and Nat's animals had probably thought that their riders desired to come down that way, as it was the shortest route to camp and supper.

"Well, you certainly had us worried," said Sam as the two wanderers were seated before the fire, eating a late meal. "We could hear your guns, but the echoes confused us. Long Gun said you'd be all right, but if you hadn't come pretty soon Bony and I were going after you."

"Say, what about our deer, that you shot, Jack?" asked Nat a little later. "Can't we go get it?"

"Not to-night," replied Jack. "I wouldn't venture in among those peaks in the dark for ten deer. We'll get it in the morning."

"Hu! Mebby none left," grunted the Indian.

"None left? What do you mean?"

"Plenty things eat um. Bears, rats, foxes, mebby."

"Well, we'll have to shoot another, that's all," said Jack. "But did you fellows have any luck?"

"Bony shot a jack-rabbit," replied Sam, "but the rest of us didn't get anything, though I fired at a big sheep."

"Too far off," explained Long Gun.

It was getting colder, and there was a promise of snow in the air, which, the Indian explained, would make it all the better for tracking game. The boys were glad to wrap themselves up well when they went to their beds, which consisted of heavy blankets spread over hemlock boughs, placed inside the tent on the ground. A big camp fire was kept going, with enough wood at hand, so that if any one awakened in the night and found it low the fuel could easily be thrown on.

The whole party, with Long Gun included, left after breakfast to bring in the deer Jack had shot. They found it without any trouble under Long Gun's guidance, but the carcass had been so torn by other beasts that it was not fit for food.

"Rambunctious ram's horns!" exclaimed Nat. "I was counting on some nice venison steaks, too."

"Well, we'll try again," suggested Jack, and the whole party, on horseback, started off to hunt.

This time they did not go into the region of the bad lands, but to an easy slope of the mountain, well wooded, yet with rocky precipices here and there, with bare spots where, the Indian said, the big-horn sheep might be found.

On Long Gun's advice the party separated, Jack, Nat and Budge going off to one side, and the others in a different direction. As there was a plain trail back to camp, and plenty of landmarks, there was no danger of any one getting lost.

Jack, Nat and Budge rode along, watching for signs of game, but all they saw were numbers of jack-rabbits.

"ShallIshoot'em?" asked Budge, as a particularly large one dashed by.

"If you want to," replied Jack. "But I'm going to wait for bigger game. A buck or a ram for mine, eh, Nat?"

"That's what."

But the bucks and the rams did not seem to be on view that day, and after riding about all the morning the three boys stopped to rest near a spring and eat their lunch.

"I tell you what we'll do," suggested Jack as they prepared to resume their journey. "Let's leave the horses here and work up that mountain," and he pointed to the steep sides of a towering peak, at the foot of which they had halted.

"I'm with you," agreed Nat.

"'Stoomuchwork," announced Budge as he turned over on his back and began chewing some fresh gum. "I'll stay here until you come back."

They tried to get him to come with them, but he would not, so Jack and Nat started off alone. They had not gone more than a mile before Jack, who was slightly in advance, came to a sudden halt and motioned to Nat to make no noise.

"There he is," whispered Jack, when Nat had joined him, and he pointed to a distant boulder that jutted out from the side of the mountain, a short distance away.

Nat looked, and saw something that made the blood leap in his veins. It was a big mountain ram, with a massive pair of horns--a fine specimen. The animal's back was toward them, and it seemed to be viewing the valley spread out below it.

"You shoot first, and if you miss I'll take him," directed Jack in a whisper, wishing to give his chum the first chance.

Fixing his eyes on the ram, Nat brought forward his gun, cocked it, and aimed. Then for some unaccountable reason his hand began to tremble. It was his first shot at big game, and he was nervous.

"I--I can't shoot," he whispered, lowering his rifle.

"Nonsense! You've got to," said Jack sternly, and this brought Nat to himself. Once more he raised his weapon. Jack was in readiness with his in case his chum should miss.

There was a moment of breathless suspense, and then Nat fired. Instantly the ram wheeled about and stood facing the spot where the two lads were. He must have seen them, for the floating cloud of smoke drew his gaze.

"I've missed! You fire!" exclaimed Nat.

And, indeed, he had missed the ram cleanly. Jack threw his gun to his shoulder, and instantly it cracked out.

"You hit him! I saw him jump!" cried Nat excitedly. "Come on! We'll get him!"

Without a word Jack pumped another cartridge into the chamber, and fired again. But just as he did so the ram gave a leap and disappeared from the rock.

"We've got him! We've got him!" yelled Nat excitedly. "Come on!"

"No use," said Jack quietly, placing a restraining hand on Nat's arm.

"No use? Why?"

Jack pointed to a bare spot below the rock and some distance to the right. Along it the ram was running at full speed.

"Guess I only grazed him," he said. "He isn't hurt much when he can run like that."

"Side-splitting sandpaper!" exclaimed Nat. "That's tough luck. Why did I miss?"

"That's nothing. I missed him, too. We can't hit everything we aim at, or it wouldn't be any fun--especially for the animals."

"Let's trail him," proposed Nat.

"No, it's too late. We'd better get back to camp."

They found Budge with the horses, and the gum-chewing lad did not appear to have moved, but three big dead jack-rabbits at his side showed that he had not been idle.

"Well, you had some luck," observed Jack.

"'Stooeasy--killin' them," remarked Budge. "They are almost tame."

"Well, they'll make good eating," observed Nat. "I hope the others did better than we did."

And when they were back at camp, which Long Gun, Sam and Bony reached shortly after they did, they found that Sam had killed a fine deer, and Bony a small sheep, which gave them plenty of fresh meat.

It was very dark that night, for it was cloudy, and the moon and stars were obscured. Outside the circle of light from the camp fire, there was blackness so deep that it seemed like a wall of ebony.

"I'd hate to be lost out there," observed Bony, motioning toward the dark valley as he prepared to turn in with the others.

"Yes, it wouldn't be very pleasant," admitted Jack. "I wish we could----"

He stopped suddenly. From the black void above them there came a peculiar sound. It was like the blowing of a wind, that sighs and moans in the pine trees, but there was no wind blowing. Then it was like the rush of some mighty wings, while there sounded a deep throbbing, and all in camp were conscious of some large object passing close over their heads, but they could see nothing.

The boys stared at each other in wonder, not unmixed with fright.

"Are there any big eagles around here?" asked Jack, quickly turning to Long Gun.

But the Indian did not seem to hear. He was staring up into the black sky.

The noise passed on, the throbbing becoming fainter.

Then Long Gun cried out:

"Great spirit! Danger come! Bad luck!"

With a howl that did more to frighten the boys than had the mysterious sound, the Indian made a dive for the tent, and hid himself under his blankets.