CHAPTER XVI

BIRDS AND THEIR NESTS

The next day Hugh and Jack set out to return to the ranch. Before leaving, all hands went out and took a look at the wolf puppies. They seemed to be all right, but had evidently made some attempts to gnaw their way out, but their young teeth could not make much impression in the tough spruce sticks which formed their cage.

"After they get a little bigger," said Hugh to Charley, "unless they should grow tame, you will either have to drive more poles into the ground or else you'll have to kill the pups. They're so big now that I think it's pretty doubtful whether they ever get tame at all, and of course if they don't get tame, the only thing to do is to kill them. I've seen a heap of wolf and coyote puppies caught, but they've got to be mighty young ever to lose their wildness, and to get so that you can do anything with them. We'll have to leave our pup here until it gets a little older and we see whether they are likely to get tame or not."

They bade good-bye to the Powell family, with cordial thanks for all their kindness, and invitations for them to come over to the ranch and visit them for a few days.

Jack said to Charley, "After awhile, when the elks' horns get big, and they get fat, come over with the waggon and we'll go out and kill two or three, and you can take back the meat with you. Hugh says we only have to go two or three miles from the house upon the mountain, to get all the elk we want."

On their way back they rode down the bluffs, not far from where Jack had killed the lion, and here, as they were going along, Jack suddenly saw, not far in front of him, a queer, dark grey object, shaped somewhat like a big tortoise, running along on the prairie in front of him. In a moment he recognised that it was a sage grouse, with wings partly extended and body held low, and for a moment he did not know what to make of the bird's action.

"Hold on, son," said Hugh, "there's where she started from;" and he pointed to a low sage-bush a little to one side. "Get off your horse and go and look under that, and see what there is there." Jack did so, and saw a hollow in the ground, scantily lined with bits of grass, in which were thirteen greyish eggs, not so large as an ordinary hen's egg.

"Oh, Hugh!" he called back, "There are thirteen eggs; can't we take them along?" Hugh rode up to the spot, leading Jack's horse, and looked at the nest. "Well, now," he said, "seems to me I would not bother with that nest; we've got a long way to go yet, and the chances are we'd smash the eggs before we got home, and if we didn't do that, they'd be pretty sure to get cold, and wouldn't hatch. Let's leave that old hen alone, and some day we'll hunt up a nest right close to home, and get a setting of eggs there. 'Tain't no use to take these eggs without they're going to do us some good."

"Well, all right," said Jack, rather reluctantly, as he turned away. "We've got a long way to go, but do you suppose we'll be able to find another nest near the ranch?"

"I expect we will," was the answer; "though of course it isn't any sure thing; it's getting pretty late to find eggs now; we won't have any trouble finding young ones, though."

Jack mounted, and from the saddle looked about to try to see the old hen, but she had disappeared; so they went on.

The supper horn sounded that night just as they were riding up the valley, toward the house, and before they had unsaddled all hands were seated at the table. Before the meal was ended, Jack had to tell the story of his killing the lion, and of the death of the wolf; and after supper he brought in his roll of hides, and spread out both the lion and the wolf skin on the floor, so that all might see them. The men were loud in their congratulations, and Joe declared that he would have given a horse to have been in Jack's place. "You're in the biggest kind of luck, Jack," he said. "I've been riding the range right around here now for five years and I never caught a glimpse of a lion yet. I've helped to rope three bears, but of course that's no trick at all if you know your horse. I roped a cow elk once, and what's more, brought her into the ranch. I had better luck that time than old Vicente, down below here. He roped a bull elk, just on the edge of the rocky ground. His horse was small and the elk drug him a little way, and he got scared and turned his rope loose, and the elk went off up the mountain, dragging a twelve-dollar raw-hide rope behind him. But I'd have liked almighty well to have been along with you fellows, and had a chance to have a shot at that lion. You were sure in great luck."

"Well," said Jack, "I don't believe I'd have had a chance myself if it hadn't been for Pawnee; he ran just as hard as he could, and got away ahead of the other horses, and so I had the luck to get the shot."

"Well," said Joe, "you made the most of your chance, anyhow. Maybe it isn't every fellow that would have shot as straight as you did, if he'd had the chance to shoot at all."

Mr. Sturgis, too, had words of congratulation for Jack; but later in the evening he cautioned him not to let his excitement carry him into dangerous places. "You see, Jack," he said, "just as Hugh feels responsible to me for your safety, so I feel responsible to your father and mother. You might live out here for two or three years without ever getting close to a lion, but you managed to do it after you'd been here only a couple of months. The life here is as safe as it is anywhere, but a man must use the same precautions against danger that he would in any other part of the world. He must use common sense, and not expose himself to the risk of being clawed by a lion, or run over by a team, or hurt by a fighting cow. You've been lucky enough so far, and have carried yourself well, but I want you to use as much discretion as you can."

"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack, "I'll try to remember what you and Hugh tell me. I confess that when I was galloping after the lion, or again after the wolf, I didn't think of a single thing except trying to get as close to the animal as I could; but when the lion jumped out of the tree at me, I was a little frightened. I didn't have time to be much frightened, because Pawnee jumped so quickly and took me out of the beast's way."

"What do you think, Uncle Will, about the wolf puppy that we left at Mr. Powell's," Jack went on. "Will it ever get tame? I should like to own a wolf that was as tame as a dog, and to take it back to New York with me. Wouldn't it make people stare! I don't believe half the people would believe it was a wolf."

"You'd better ask that question of Hugh," said his uncle; "he knows more about those things than I. I have never seen a tame wolf, myself, though I have heard of many of them; but I fancy that pups that are caught as old as he seemed to be do not ever really get tame. I do not believe that this wolf puppy will ever be of any particular use to you. But if you are going to start the menagerie we talked of before we came out here, it is time you began. The antelope kids can be got now, and if I were you I would try to get two or three. Then there are some ducks' nests down by the lake that you might rob, and bring the eggs up to be hatched out at the house. There are two old hens out here now, I believe, that want to set, and you might try each of them with a lot of wild ducks' eggs. Rube found the nests day before yesterday, and I think would like to go down there and help you get them. In the course of two or three days the horse roundup will be here, and for a day or two we'll all be busy cutting out horses and branding colts. After that, Antonio is going to ride some wild horses, and I suppose you want to be here for that; so you had better get your ducks' eggs now, or the first thing you know they'll be swimming in the lake and you'll never get your hands on them."

"All right, Uncle Will," said Jack. "If Rube will go with me, we'll start right after breakfast to-morrow morning."

"Well," said his uncle, "you ask him to-morrow morning at breakfast. He'll go with you if he can."

After breakfast next morning, Rube and Jack went down to the lake, each carrying a small wooden box, partly filled with hay. The ducks' nests were easily found. One of them belonged to quite a small bird, which flew off close to the ground as the riders approached. They found that this nest contained nine roundish eggs, about the colour of old ivory, that is yellowish white. The other nest, which was not far off, belonged to a larger bird, and in this there were eleven somewhat larger eggs. All the eggs from the first nest were placed in one box, and those from the second in another, and they returned to the house, riding very slowly and carefully, carrying the boxes in their hands, so that they should not be jarred or shaken. In the hen-house the two old hens were provided with good nests of clean hay, each in a barrel, which was covered at night so as to prevent anything from disturbing them, and one setting of eggs was put under each hen. Rube declared that he didn't feel quite safe about those hens, they were so big and the eggs were so small that he was afraid they would break them. "And if they don't break them," he said, "they're liable to step on the young ones when they hatch out, and kill half of them. Still, I suppose we've got to take that risk."

The morning had only half gone when the eggs were disposed of, and Jack looked about to see what else he could do. There was no one about the house except Mrs. Carter, who was sewing, and Rube, who had gone down to the stable and was working there. Jack threw himself on the grass just outside the house door, and lay there in the warm sun. For a while he did nothing except to think over the last few days, and remember what fun he had had. He determined that before night he would write a long letter to his father, telling him that he would rather not go back and go to school and college, for he wanted to be a ranchman.

After a time he noticed some swallows circling about over the grass near him. They were very small and did not look like the swallows that he had seen back east, most of which have breasts about the colour of iron rust. These little fellows were wonderfully quick, so much so that sometimes it was hard for the eye to follow them. They made wide circles out over the grass, or again flew so close to the house that it seemed as if they must dash themselves against the logs. Suddenly, one of them flew squarely toward the house, but when he had almost reached it, turned upward and alighted on one of the roof poles, where he sat, twittering faintly, and occasionally arranging his feathers. Sometimes the little bird walked a few inches, turning himself this way and that, and then Jack could see that his back was almost the colour of a peacock's tail, shining green in some places, and shining purple in others. He felt sure that he could describe this bird well enough so that his uncle could tell him what it was. All at once, to his surprise, the swallow walked into a hole between two of the roof poles, and was not seen again, but a moment afterward another little bird, just like the first, except that its back was dull brown, walked out of the hole and flew away over the valley.

Jack did not know very much about birds, but he decided that this last one was the female, and that these two little swallows had a nest somewhere in the roof. He determined too that he would watch them and see what they did every day, for they were so pretty and so quick and graceful that it was fun to look at them. About noon he saw his uncle and Hugh ride up to the barn and unsaddle, and before long he was asking about the swallows.

"Why yes," said his uncle, "those birds build there every year. They are a pair of violet green swallows; there are lots of them here in the mountains, and they build in little holes in the dead trees, or in the rocks; but these two have a nest somewhere up in the roof, every summer. I think it was last year that the young ones, when they were about full-grown, flew out of the nest and fell into the muslin that forms the ceiling of the sitting-room. They scrambled around there for nearly a whole day, and made so much noise that finally we cut a hole in the muslin and got them out. They were about as big as the old ones, and full feathered, and the next morning we took them out and put them on the roof, and the old ones at once fed them and began to teach them to fly. If you want to find out what birds there are about here, you had better take my bird book down from the shelf and study it a little each day. I can help you, for I know the names of most of the common birds." Saying this, his uncle went into the house.

"How are the calves, Hugh?" said Jack. "Have the coyotes been bothering them at all?"

"Not a bit," said Hugh; "they are all right, and big and strong. I expect in the course of a month now your uncle will be bringing them over to the corrals to brand, but we won't do that until after we've got through with the horses. The roundup ought to be along here most any time now, and when it gets here you'll see quite a lot of fun when we get to working them."