CHAPTER XXIV

FLAGGING AN ANTELOPE

The days passed pleasantly and swiftly. It was not the season for killing game, and except when fresh meat was required no hunting was done. Nevertheless, there was work enough. Every day one man rode off and made a long round of the basin looking carefully for the tracks of cattle leading away from it. If fresh tracks were seen, the cattle were followed, rounded up, and driven back to the home range.

The work on a ranch is never ended. The irrigating ditches had to be looked after and the water from time to time turned on or off the hay-fields or the garden-patch. Haying time would come before long, and in that country hay was money, and worth more than a cent a pound. When no work was pressing, Jack Danvers and Donald got on their horses and rode down to the lake, and perhaps lay there on a little knoll and with their glasses watched the young ducks swimming on the lake, or the young plover, sandpipers and curlews that fed along its borders. The first two or three times the boys went down there, all the young birds hid, and the old ones made a great outcry, the curlews and plovers flying over them and whistling shrilly as if to frighten them away; but after a time the birds seemed to become accustomed to the boys and to regard them as ordinary objects the landscape and no longer to be feared.

One of Donald's early visits to the lake resulted in a situation that gave him some discomfort and uneasiness, and cost him a pair of boots and spurs. He saw a brood of young ducks in a little cove and, intending to try to capture them, he ran into the water at the cove's mouth to cut them off from going back into the lake. Almost before he reached the edge of the water he sank so deep in the soft, soapy mire that he wished to get back to firm ground, but found that he could not stir. Jack had not seen what Donald was doing until he had almost reached the water, and then he called to him to come back. He now shouted to Donald to stand still. Then he ran back thirty or forty yards to his horse and, mounting, rode to the edge of the firm ground, and from there tossed his rope over Donald's head. Donald fixed it about his chest, close under the arms, and Jack shortened the rope and tried with his own strength to pull Donald out, but found that impossible. He was fast in the mire and, while he did not sink, he could move his legs not at all. Jack took a turn on the rope about the saddle-horn and started the horse away gradually. This pulled Donald over, but did not move his legs. Jack rode back again and got Donald's horse, and threw that rope also over Donald's head; then, stripping off his own coat, he tossed it to Donald and told him to wrap it around his chest and so to make a pad against which the ropes could draw.

Having thus put in operation the precise thing that Hugh had done for him five or six years before, Jack stood the two horses side by side and slowly led them forward. The strain on Donald was severe. The pull bowed him forward until his trunk was parallel with the sloping beach and then suddenly, with a mighty pluck, he was drawn from the mud and thrown heavily on the ground. Jack stopped the horses, and in a moment the ropes were loosened and Donald recovered his breath. His legs were uninjured, and Jack asked him how his chest felt.

"Whew! I feel as if a grizzly bear had been hugging me, and hugging me tight! Honestly, I thought I heard my ribs crack just before I was pulled out."

"Well, it's not very good fun. I had Hugh do that precise thing to me once, when I was a little fellow, and I thought I was going to pull to pieces."

"Do you mean to say that you ever did so foolish a trick as to walk into a mud hole like that?"

Jack laughed.

"In my case it was quicksand, but the effect was the same. My feet and legs from the knees downward were gripped fast and I couldn't get out. I really don't suppose I ever came as near dying as I did that day. It was just the accident of Hugh's coming into camp at the right moment, and seeing and hearing me, that got me out of it. I think on that trip I learned a couple of lessons about doing what I was told to that I have never forgotten, and my instruction came in the shape of two huge scares. Say, you seem to have shed your foot-gear in that mud."

"Yes," Donald replied. "If they had not let go, I would probably be there still, or at least a part of me. You might have succeeded in pulling the upper part of my body away, but my feet and legs would have been down there yet."

"Well," said Jack, "there's no hope of recovering anything from that mud. You'll have to get new shoes and spurs."

"Spurs I'll have to get, but I have shoes at the ranch."

It was two or three weeks after their elk hunt that the two boys, on being told that fresh meat was again needed, decided that they would go over to Willow Creek, twenty-five miles from home, where the Pick ranch had an old cabin, and camping there would try to kill three or four buck antelope. Donald was especially keen about that, for though in previous trips to the United States he had killed one or two antelope his experience with this curious and interesting animal was limited.

It was proposed that Jack Mason should go along. Each man would take his saddle horse and while two would ride, the third would drive the wagon, his saddle animal carrying the saddle being tied up to the hames of one of the team horses. In the wagon they would take a tent and three or four days' grub.

They started one morning in good season and were four or five miles from the ranch before the sun showed its face over the high eastern hills.

A little farther on, as Jack and Donald rode up on a low ridge, Jack saw off to the left a yearling buck antelope, distant not more than sixty or seventy yards, which gazed steadily at them. Jack pulled up and motioned to Donald to get off his horse and kill the yearling, which, notwithstanding their movements, stood looking at them. Donald gave Jack his reins and stepped behind the horses, where he threw a cartridge into his gun and fired at the antelope. At the report the yearling trotted a few steps toward them, and Jack saw the ball strike the prairie far beyond the animal. Again Donald fired, and again the antelope advanced a few steps. Jack saw the second bullet knock up the dust far toward the hillside.

"You're shooting too high!" he called to Donald; "you're seeing too much of your foresight. Draw down a good deal finer and aim at the point of his breast."

The third time Donald shot; and this time the antelope fell.

"Where did you hold for that last shot?" asked Jack, as the two rode up to the fallen animal.

"Square for the breast," said Donald.

"Well, if that's the case, you must draw your sight still finer, for I believe you hit that antelope in the neck, high up."

When they dismounted this proved to be the fact. The antelope's neck was broken by a ball which had entered the throat only about three inches beneath the head.

"Was this antelope insane?" Donald asked Jack, as they began the work of dressing the animal. "Why did he not run away? Instead of doing that he kept coming closer at each shot."

"That's easily explained. In the first place, the sun was shining square in his eyes, and we were between him and the sun, therefore he could not make out what we were. Besides that, you see he's a yearling, and it's quite possible that he never before heard the sound of a gun. Evidently it did not scare him at all."

"Well," said Donald, "I'm glad to have that explained. If you had not told me how it was, I should certainly have believed that I had killed a patient that had escaped from some antelope lunatic asylum."

"That conundrum was an easy one," laughed Jack. "One trouble with most of us is that we look at things from our own little view-point, and imagine that other creatures look at things as we do. You ought to talk to Hugh about that. He's thought more about it than anybody I ever talked to, and he's given me whatever ideas I may have."

By this time the antelope was dressed and the team had driven up close to it. The carcass was loaded in and they went on again. About eleven o'clock they crossed a little stream which was the last water they would find until they reached camp at night, and they would have a long drive of twelve or fifteen miles across a dry flat. Accordingly they stopped here, unsaddled their horses and let them drink and feed, and cooked themselves a cup of coffee. An hour later, hitching up again, and with Jack in the wagon as driver, they started on; and an hour or two before sundown reached the willow-grown bottom where their camp was to be pitched.

As Jack and Donald were unhitching the team horses, Jack Mason, who had been riding off to one side, galloped up and, dismounting and throwing down his reins, jumped into the wagon and began rapidly to throw out the beds, tent and tent-poles. Donald took the team horses down to water, and the grub box and meat were lifted out. In a moment they had picked out a place for the tent and were soon putting in the tent-poles.

"Before we unsaddle, Jack," Mason said, "you and I had better ride off to take a look at some cattle that I see feeding on the prairie off to the north. If they should happen to be Mr. Sturgis' cattle, we ought to turn 'em back to the ranch. It seems to me I heard Rube speak the other night of seeing some tracks leading off in this direction, but somehow he lost the trail and couldn't find 'em. It may be that these are the cattle, and if there's any beef among 'em they certainly ought to be thrown back now."

"Right you are," said Jack. "Let's get the tent up and then we'll leave Donald to pack wood and water and build the fire, and we'll go off and look at the cattle."

Donald was ready to attend to the cooking so far as he could. There really was not much to do, for they had brought some bread; and all that was necessary was to cut and fry some meat, and boil the coffee. Jack suggested that Donald might skin the antelope and get the meat ready for frying. It would take the two Jacks only a short time to ride over to the cattle, but if they proved to be Sturgis' cattle they ought to be looked after. If they had located themselves up on the high bench and were likely to stay there, there was no special reason for driving them back into the Basin; on the other hand, if they were slowly traveling away from the Basin they ought to be turned back.

When the boys reached the cattle--only fifteen or eighteen head--they found that they were Sturgis' cattle, chiefly cows and young stock, but with them four or five steers, some of which would be ready for shipment that autumn. A careful look over the ground, and the discovery of a more or less worn trail where the cattle seemed for several days to have been going to water, made the men think that the animals were not traveling, but would stay there, or thereabout, for some time.

"Well," said Jack Danvers, "I believe these cattle have stopped here. Why not leave them alone, and keep an eye on them for the day or two that we are hunting here, and then when we start back two of us can drive them along to the ranch and turn them loose down by the lake?"

"I guess that's the thing to do," agreed Jack Mason. "Meantime, if they should move away, one of us can pick up the trail and probably overtake 'em. I don't seem to remember any of these cows on the round-up, but of course they were there."

"I remember that black and white cow and her calf, and that bob-tailed bay steer over there. I think the day they were cut out was about the time you went into town to interview your friend Claib Wood."

Mason laughed.

"I just envy you fellows the fun you had out of that little argument that Claib and I had in town. I believe I've been better than a comic paper to that round-up camp, and it didn't cost 'em anything, either."

When they returned to camp they found that Donald had been busy. The beds were in the tent ready for unrolling; the antelope had been skinned and meat cut for frying; the coffee had been boiled and was standing in the ashes near the fire where it would keep hot. Donald had unsaddled his horse and turned it loose with drag-rope, and had tied the ropes of the two work horses to bunches of sage-brush.

"Bully for you!" called Jack. "This looks like business. Just as soon as we picket our horses we can have supper."

The work of picketing the horses so that they could get as much grass as possible and yet would not get tangled in one another's ropes was soon over, and before the sun had set the simple meal was finished and the dishes washed, ready for breakfast.

The night was clear and warm, with a full moon, and nothing disturbed the rest of the hunters, though as they fell asleep they heard the chorus of coyotes from the nearby hills.

It was not light the next morning when Jack Danvers heard Mason putting on his shoes, and a moment later pushing aside the flap of the tent. Jack also began to dress and in a very few minutes the two men were preparing breakfast around the dancing fire. Dawn had come and was swiftly spreading over the sky. Jack called to Donald, who groaned a response but before long appeared at the fire just in time to be saluted by Jack, who had returned from the stream with the bucket and the coffee-kettle filled with water.

After breakfast, the three rode a little way to the north, where from a high knoll they could see the cattle, placed just about as they had been the night before; and then, turning east and passing through some broken country, they came to a rolling plateau more or less interrupted by ravines, where they saw not a few antelope. Most of these were busily feeding on the higher ground and for a time the boys could see no way of approaching any of them. Finally Donald and Jack Danvers, leaving their horses, set out to crawl up a low swale which they hoped might bring them within long shot of a herd of eight or ten antelope guarded apparently by a big buck. They crawled and crawled under the hot sun, and Donald thought that he had never been in any place where it was so hot as this. Moreover, flies--small but very hungry--buzzed about his head, and stung his neck and ears, and he seriously wondered whether the antelope they were after were worth all this effort.

They were still a long way from the game when the little water-course in which they were crawling spread out and became so shallow that it was impossible to proceed farther without being seen.

"This seems to be our finish," Jack said, "unless you feel like shooting at them at this distance; and if I were you, I wouldn't do it. There's a possibility of hitting, but no more than that; and if you miss, when these antelope run, everything that sees them will be on the lookout and ready to run."

"It isn't likely that I could hit at this distance," answered Donald. "I wish that they would come up nearer."

"I'm afraid wishing won't do you much good," laughed Jack.

"Say, I used to read about flagging antelope. Have you ever tried it?"

"No; I never have. I guess likely they used to do it in old times, but I fancy in these days the antelope are too smart to be fooled by anything like that. To be sure, I've seen antelope come back to look a second time, or a third time, at something that they had seen but couldn't make out; but I'm afraid the flagging business won't work."

"Well," suggested Donald, "why not try it anyhow? If we don't show ourselves it isn't likely to scare them; and it's possible that they may notice it."

"How are you going to work it?" Jack asked.

"This red handkerchief around my neck will do for a flag. But there's nothing to tie it to except our two guns, and if it succeeds we ought to use them for another purpose."

"Why, here," said Jack, "I'll take this rod from my rifle and we can tie the flag to that."

Jack's rifle was fitted with tubes below the barrel and through these ran the slender steel rod which might be used to drive out a shell, if by any chance one should stick in the breech of the gun.

Jack took the rod from its place and tied Donald's handkerchief to one end and then slowly raised it in the air and waved it in plain sight of the antelope. For a short time they did not notice it, and then an old doe faced around toward the boys and stood there looking; and in a moment all of them were looking. Presently the old doe started off on a canter to get nearer to the flag. She galloped for forty or fifty yards, then stopped and looked. Then she turned and trotted off a short distance, and turned and looked again; and then galloped up still nearer. And what this old doe did all the others did. Presently it seemed as if the buck took courage--as if perhaps he wanted to show off before his family. He galloped up to within seventy-five or eighty yards, and then, turning to the left, made as if he would circle around this strange thing that fluttered to the wind.

"Now!" whispered Jack. "He may not come any nearer. If you can, hit him when he is trotting; or, if you'll wait for him to stop, I believe you can get him. I think I would wait; he'll probably stop before he has gone far."

So it turned out. Before long the buck stopped and faced squarely around, and Donald, with the memory of the previous night's shooting in his mind, drew a very fine sight on the antelope's chest, low down, and fired. The buck reared on his hind legs and, holding his fore legs stiffly out before him, fell over backward. The does looked at him for a moment and then scurried off like so many frightened rabbits, while the boys, rising from the ground, stretched their cramped limbs and stamped about to restore the circulation.

"That was another good shot, Donald. I'd like to know how you held, and we'll see just where the ball hit."

"I drew the sight just as fine as I possibly could, and held on the very lower edge of his breast. If the ball flew as high as last night it seems to me it ought to have broken the lower part of his neck, but if I held right, and the life line is as low as I fancy you say it is, I believe that I must have hit his heart."

When they reached the buck, they found that Donald had done just that. The ball had entered an inch and a half or two inches above the lower level of the breast, and a little to one side of the breast-bone; had pierced the heart and gone entirely through the antelope.

Jack shook hands with Donald.

"A good shot!" he exclaimed. "I shouldn't be surprised if you could beat us all with the rifle."

The shot had so thoroughly bled the antelope that it was unnecessary to cut its throat, and when it was ripped up all the blood in its body seemed to have gathered in the visceral cavity.

Before the antelope was dressed Jack Mason came up with their horses.

"My!" he exclaimed, bending over and resting on the saddle-horn as he watched the boys at work, "that's a fine head. You don't often see one like that. Why don't you take it, Donald, and carry it back to the old country to ornament the walls of your baronial hall?"

"I believe I will, Mason," said Donald; "and when I get it hung on those walls, I'll invite you and Claib Wood to come over and give us your little barroom act. We can have lots of Western color in the village where I live, with just a few of the properties."

Mason laughed.

"I believe it would have been better if I'd killed Claib," he said. "You fellow's wouldn't have so much to josh about then."

The two following days spent at this camp resulted in the capture of three more buck antelope, and the next morning camp was broken and the wagon started back to the basin. Donald drove, while Jack Mason and Jack Danvers rode well out on the prairie and rounded up all the cattle they could see and drove them slowly toward the ranch. In the early part of the day the cattle were slow to move, but after the sun got hotter and more directly overhead they seemed to work along better, and shortly after noon had the appearance of really striking out after water, which, of course, in due time they found.

At the place where the road crossed the water Donald had stopped, unhitched his team, taken off the bridles and tied the animals out to feed; and Mason and Jack were delighted when they came in sight of the camp to see Donald fussing about the fire and to find a good meal just about ready.

A few hours later the cattle were turned loose just outside the big pasture beyond the lake, and the little hunting party rode up to the ranch, its mission accomplished.