CHAPTER XXIII

A LOAD OF MEAT

The sun was hanging low in the western sky on the evening of the second day after this when the little bunch of stock, having entered the home valley and crossed the streams which ran down from the low mountains back of the ranch, approached the corner of the pasture and saw the lake. The low ranch buildings were still hidden behind the hills, but all the surroundings were those of home. The cattle were left by the lake to mingle with the others that within the past few weeks had been brought to the home range, but the men drove the horses along, intending to turn them into the big pasture until it had been determined what saddle animals should be kept up. Most of them, however, would be turned out, and would do no more work until the beef round-up a couple of months later.

There was no especial work for any one to do, and Hugh asked Jack why he and Donald did not ride on to the house and see Mr. Sturgis. When this was suggested Donald said he would be very glad to do so.

"I have not said anything to you about it, Jack, but I have a letter of introduction to Mr. Sturgis from my uncle, who is an old friend of his. I think that they were in college together, a good many years ago."

"Well," said Jack, "you'll like Uncle Will all right, I know. If you don't, you'll be different from most of the other people in this country. Of course I like him because he's my uncle, and perhaps you might say Hugh likes him because he works for him, but I think you'll find that most people on the range and at the railroad think a good deal of him. I once overheard a man say to another: 'What I like about that man Sturgis is that he don't put on any airs; he's just as common as you and me.' That sounds a little queer, of course, because back East when anybody speaks of another person as common, it has a bad sound; but I reckon out here they use the word in a sense that maybe we have forgotten."

The boys started ahead, and turning the corner of the pasture fence they galloped along toward the house which they could now see. No one seemed to be stirring, until they were near enough to the blacksmith shop to hear the ringing of hammer on anvil, and for the hoof-beats of their horses to be heard in the shop. Then Joe, with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, looked out of the door, and on recognizing Jack shouted a greeting and waved his tools. The boys drew up by the corral fence and tied their horses, and then, having shaken hands with Joe, went up to the house to see Mr. Sturgis. He was found writing in the sitting-room, and welcomed the boys cordially. When he had read Donald's letter he gave him an extra handshake and told him that he must stay there as long as he would. Donald's arrival had not been altogether a surprise to Mr. Sturgis, for among the mail waiting at the ranch were two or three letters for the young Englishman, as well as for Jack; and after the first greetings were over the two boys retired to read their mail.

Among Jack's was a letter from Sam Williams, saying that he was in Cheyenne and had succeeded in getting work; that he had left the horse and saddle at Brown's livery stable, as promised, and that when Jack was ready, he would be glad to have him send him the fifteen dollars still due him on the saddle and bridle. Jack felt that he must inquire about this at once, and see that Williams got his money as soon as possible.

When the reading of the letters was over, Mr. Sturgis looked up from his writing.

"Jack," he said, "Hugh told me about the trouble over at Powell's the day you started away from here, and a few days ago when Joe was in town, Brown told him that some weeks before a man had left at his stable that gray horse and a saddle and bridle which were to come out to you here. Joe brought them out. He brought out Donald's trunk on the same trip."

"Yes, Uncle Will; I have a letter here from the young fellow who left the things at Brown's, saying that he had done so. I owe him some money on that saddle, and must see that it goes to him the next time anybody goes to town."

"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "don't neglect that. If you really owe money, pay it as quickly as you can. How do you mean to send it to the man? I can give you a check, of course, but that may not be the most convenient way for him."

"No," replied Jack, "I guess it wouldn't be. It should be sent either in currency in a registered letter, or by post-office order. I suppose a money order would be the safest."

"I think so too, but of course it is a little more trouble. However, I think I would send it in that way. You would not care to have to pay the money twice. Speak to me about it the next time any one goes to town. I think perhaps somebody will have to go before very long."

"There come the horses, Uncle Will," said Jack. "Don't you want to go out and look at them? They're all in first-class shape, it seems to me, considering the work that they have had to do; but between now and the fall round-up they'll fatten up and be in splendid shape for that."

They walked down to the barn and saw the horses turned into the corral, and Mr. Sturgis shook hands with Mason, whom until now he had never met. The loads taken off the horses were dropped in front of the bunk-house, for Jack and Donald had agreed that they would stop down there; they would not sleep at the house. To this Mr. Sturgis at first demurred a little, but assented when the boys had given him their reasons.

For two or three days now nothing seemed to happen at the ranch. The saddle horses were turned into the big pasture, and the men who had just come in from the round-up camp loafed about the house, reading or talking, or sleeping. Very likely they were all a little tired from their long hard work and enjoyed the days of idleness; but that could not last. Their lives had been too active for them to settle down into doing nothing. Therefore, when Mrs. Carter announced one day at breakfast that the supply of fresh meat was running low, Mr. Sturgis with a smile asked Jack and Donald whether they wished to go out and kill a load of meat, or whether he should send out and have a beef driven in.

The boys declared that they would make the hunt; and up on the mountain back of the house, where the elk had their summer home, seemed the only place to go. To be sure, there was a bunch of antelope over in the big pasture, and a few mule deer lived in some of the ravines running down from the hills; but Mr. Sturgis liked to see these animals near the house and had requested his own people and their neighbors not to disturb either the deer or the antelope.

Jack and Donald agreed therefore that the next morning they would climb the mountain and try to find an elk; and when Jack Mason heard of it, he said that he wanted to go along, if his job should be only to lead the pack horse. He was already tired of loafing.

Mr. Sturgis had decided to send Hugh to town the next day, and that evening Jack arranged with him to get a money order to send to Williams at Cheyenne.

Soon after breakfast the following morning, the three started on their hunt. To Jack the trail up the mountain was familiar enough, for he had known it now since small boyhood. To the others it was new and full of interest; and Donald, especially, looked down with great interest and curiosity into the deep, narrow and dark ravines above which the trail ran.

Suddenly Jack, who was in the lead, held up his hand, and then slowly slipped off his horse on the upper side and came quietly back to Donald and Mason.

"There are five bull elk," he said, "down here in this ravine, just a little ahead of us. I don't think we want to kill them, but you might like to see them, Donald. I don't know if you ever saw elk at this time of the year, just when their horns are half grown. It's interesting to see them go through the thick timber, and to notice how careful they are to keep from knocking their horns against the trunks and branches among which they travel. Of course, the horns are very tender at this season, and the animals take the greatest care not to hit them against anything."

"I'd greatly like to see them, Jack. Can we get a look at them?"

"Yes; slip off your horse, and we can go forward on foot and get a look at them, I think. They were moving when I saw them, but I don't think they saw me."

"Well," said Mason, "I'll stay back, and bring the horses on up to your horse, Jack."

"All right," answered Jack; and he and Donald went forward. They had passed Jack's horse only about twenty feet, when Jack stopped and pointed, and in a moment Donald could see the yellow bodies of the elk showing up in the shadow as they walked along the ravine.

"Shan't we kill one?" whispered Donald after a moment.

"It doesn't seem worth while. These fellows are growing their horns now, and they'll be poor enough for a month longer. You know, those horns grow about as fast as corn, and they're a terrible drain on the animal. On the other hand, just as soon as they have got their growth, and begin to harden, the bull elk lay on fat in a way to astonish anybody, and by the end of August, or first of September, they are fit to kill--hog fat. Besides that, even if these elk were in good order now, we don't want to finish our hunt at the very beginning of the day, and then have to go back to the ranch and stay around there until night. If we keep on we can very likely find a yearling or a two-year-old heifer that will make us good meat and be worth bringing back."

For some time the boys watched the elk's slow progress up the ravine, but at length the animals turned off into a side ravine and disappeared among trees and brush and were seen no longer. Then the boys went back to their horses, remounted and rode on up the trail.

After a time they came up out of the ravine into a narrow grassy valley with little groves of quaking aspen and bordered on either side by high ridges of weathered pink granite. Here the slope was gradual, until at the head of the valley they reached a rolling plateau, with aspens here and there, and farther off higher hills, crowned by pines. The country they were entering was singularly picturesque. Donald was greatly impressed, while the apparently practical Jack Mason declared that it was as pretty a hunting country as he'd ever seen.

Everywhere in the bare soil of the plateau which showed among the tufts of grass, already beginning to turn yellow, were seen the traces of elk. Some of the tracks had been made in the spring when the soil was wet; they had sunk deep in the soft mud, and showed the imprints of the dew-claws. Other much later foot-prints had been made on dry earth, but were dull, windworn, and covered with dust; while occasionally were seen tracks fresh and glistening, made by animals which had passed along only a short time before.

"There are certainly plenty of elk here," remarked Jack Mason to the other Jack.

"Lots of them," was the reply. "Of course I don't claim to know much about the whole West, but I have never been in any place where elk seemed as plentiful as they are here. We may ride on to some at any time, and for the present we don't need to hunt, because whenever we want to kill something we can do it."

It was only a little later that Jack's prediction was verified. As they rode across the opening of a little valley they saw, less than two hundred yards away, several cow elk and heifers feeding at the edge of the brush near the timber.

"There," said Jack, "what did I tell you?"

"There they are," returned Jack Mason; "sure enough."

Donald began to show some excitement.

"Shouldn't we go up there and try to kill them?" he asked eagerly.

"I think not," answered Jack. "We can get what we need going home. I think it will be better fun for us to ride on a little, and then climb up on some high peak and sit there and look over the country."

"All right," said Donald, resignedly; "go ahead; but I'd like to remind you of the story about the girl who was sent into the woods to get a straight stick, and kept rejecting pretty good sticks, hoping to get one still straighter, until finally, when she got to the outside she had to take one that was crooked."

"Ha! ha!" laughed Mason. "That's the way I've seen it done often with hunters. But let's follow Jack, Donald. He's the boss, and if we don't get any meat, we'll put the blame on him, and make lots of fun of him when we get back to the ranch."

"Let it be so," acquiesced Donald.

Jack Danvers grinned.

"I'll accept it," he said.

For three quarters of an hour they rode on, constantly ascending by a gentle slope. Two or three times they saw other elk near or far off, and more than once Jack was warned by Donald of the humiliation of being laughed at when they got back to the ranch. But Jack only laughed and intimated that Donald was a British pilgrim.

At last Jack dismounted at a little grove of pine timber, at the foot of a rocky hill, steep and broken.

"Let's stop here," he said, "and climb up to the top of this hill and see what there is to look at. When we get up there, Donald can soothe his feelings with the British pipe he carries and the rest of us will study the landscape."

The horses were tied, and a short scramble brought the men to the sharp peak of the hill--a rocky needle standing up several hundred feet above the plateau. From this summit was had a wide view which really justified Jack. To the south and east they looked out over the basin where the ranch was, though the distance was so great that there was no detail. Behind them, to the north and west, was a stretch of plateau broken by groves and lines of pines and aspens, and in the little parks among this timber were a number of animals, most of them elk, though there were some antelope. On the plateau between the basin from which they had come and the pinnacle on which they stood, in many little parks and openings were elk and in one of the larger parks a herd of antelope.

"Why," exclaimed Jack Mason, "this is a regular elk pasture! It seems to me the elk are thicker here than the cattle on the prairie, where we passed along only a few days ago."

"Well," replied Jack, "there are a great many elk up here, and very few people come here to hunt them. A few of the ranch people round about, when they need fresh meat, come here and kill it, and that is all the hunting that is done here. But I'm afraid the place is getting talked about. I heard last year of three or four settlers from down in Colorado who came up to the Hole, where most of the elk winter, and loaded up their wagons with their winter's meat. If three or four people from Colorado did that last year, it's likely that a dozen or twenty will do it this year, and two or three times that number the year after. If they do that, that will be the end of the elk here; and I guess they'll do it."

The boys sat there for an hour or two looking over this lovely mountain prospect, and then Jack Danvers stood up.

"Well, I really hate to do it," he said, "but I suppose we've got to go down and kill something, and take it back to the ranch."

They climbed down the steep hill and untied their horses.

"Now," Jack cautioned the boys, "we ought to go more carefully. Donald, I expect you'd like to kill an elk, wouldn't you?"

"You bet I would!"

"All right then; let's go on and do it."

On the return they took a valley a little to the west of the one they had followed up, and it was not very long before Jack halted and called a council.

"Now it seems to me that just beyond this point of timber we saw from the hill a little bunch of elk, and among them there's likely to be the animal we want--a fat yearling. I don't suppose there'll be any trouble in getting up to it--not half as much as there'd be in getting up to a range cow on foot--but let's go on. We can ride until we see the elk, and then get off to shoot."

They entered the green timber in single file, Jack in the lead and Jack Mason bringing up the rear with the pack animal. It was all very simple. Before they reached the edge of the timber on the other side, Jack, who had been looking carefully, stopped and craned his neck to one side and then slipped off his horse and beckoned to Donald.

Very quietly the two proceeded on foot, and before they reached the edge of the timber Jack pointed out to Donald two or three elk lying near the opening, but he motioned to him to wait before shooting. After a little study Jack fixed on a fat yearling that lay slightly apart from the others, and told Donald to shoot it behind the shoulder and low down. When the shot rang out all the elk sprang to their feet, except the one Donald had hit. This one partly raised itself and then lay down again, and after a moment put its head on the ground. The other elk stood about looking. The boys went back for their horses, and when they came out from the timber toward the dead animal, the other elk were hardly a hundred yards away and were walking up the little park without showing any alarm.

To prepare the elk's carcass for transportation to camp and to load the greater part of it on the pack horse took only a little time, and the boys went on toward home.

Jack congratulated Donald on the shot.

"It was a good one," he said, "and I believe you're an older hunter than I thought. The way you killed that antelope the other day, and this elk, makes me think that you've done a lot of hunting. Of course, I'm not much of a believer in this buck-fever that you read about in the books, but it certainly is true that when pilgrims are shooting at game for the first time, they don't always keep their heads. I reckon, though, that you've hunted more than I supposed, and I believe that you can shoot all right, and maybe can beat some of us out here who think we can shoot pretty steadily."