CHAPTER III

THE TERROR OF THE MOUNTAINS

"MAKE sure work of him, Dick!" Roger said, in trembling tones, as he saw the other draw back the flint-capped hammer of his gun, showing that it was ready for business.

The grizzly was still displaying all the signs of furious anger, and there seemed some danger that he might manage to gain lodgment among the lower limbs of the tree.

"No hurry, Roger! And, another thing, I've concluded that, since you brought this trouble on our heads by that unlucky shot, you should be the one to finish our enemy, not me!"

"Oh, Dick, do you really mean it?" cried Roger, filled with delight. "I've been saying over and over again that some day I hoped to be able to kill one of these monsters that the Indians fear so much. Do you intend to lend me your gun, and let me finish him?"

"If you'll promise to keep cool, and watch for your chance to make the bullet tell. We haven't so many of them along with us that we can afford to waste even a single one."

"I give that promise willingly," said the other, as he stretched out his hand for the gun.

Having it in his possession, Roger's first move was to lower himself a little. He meant to further excite the beast, and cause him to remain upright until the gun, being brought to bear on his head, within a foot or so of the small, gleaming eyes, could be fired with full effect.

"Careful not to go too far, Roger; he is waiting to make another try for you!" warned the watchful Dick.

So the young marksman paused, and, settling himself firmly in a crotch of the tree, bent forward. The gun was held at an acute angle, and the tiny sight near the terminus of the long, shining barrel could be seen against the dark fur of the bear.

When the beast opened his mouth to give utterance to another roar, Roger knew his time had come. His trembling finger suddenly pressed the trigger, there was a loud report, a still louder roar, and then a scuffling sound.

"He's down!" yelled Roger, in anticipated triumph.

"Give me the gun, so that I may reload it!" the other boy called, meanwhile observing the significant actions of the grizzly with mingled curiosity and satisfaction.

The animal had fallen over, and seemed to be struggling desperately to get up again on all fours. But that last leaden missile must have reached a vital part, for, as the seconds passed, these efforts became more and more feeble until, just as Dick primed his weapon again, there was a last spasmodic movement. Then the huge animal remained motionless.

Roger sprang down from his perch, in his usual reckless fashion; but there was no longer any danger, for the bear was dead. The boy placed his right foot on the huge bulk, and waved his hat in triumph; for, after all is said and done, he was but a lad, and this marked the highest point in his career as a hunter of big game.

"They'll never believe it, Dick," he exclaimed, "unless we carry back something to prove our story. And that means we've got to slice off these claws to show. After this we can have necklaces made of them, and the Indians will look on us as mighty hunters."

"Just as you say, Roger, and, if you start with that one, I'll attend to the other fore paw. They are enough to give you a cold shiver. How our mothers would turn pale if they saw them, and knew what a narrow escape we had."

"Yes, but our fathers would pat us on the back, Dick, and say that we were 'chips of the old block,' because they many times took their lives in their hands the same way, when founding their homes on the frontier, and know what it is to face the perils of the hunting trail."

Dick kept on the alert while engaged in his task of severing the claws of the dead bear. After having seen those strange Indians passing, not so very long ago, he realized that there was always more or less danger of others being in the neighborhood. And those three loud reports, as the guns were fired, would carry a long distance, telling the natives that white men were around.

Nothing occurred, however, to give them further alarm, and presently, the claws having been obtained, the two boys continued on their way toward the distant camp.

It was at least two hours later that they sighted the Mandan village, near which the camp of the exploring expedition had been pitched.

Knowing that, any day now, winter, while somewhat delayed, might break upon them, Captains Lewis and Clark were preparing for a long stay here, and their hunters were laying in a supply of fresh venison to be made into pemmican. (Note 2.)

When the two boys reached the camp, bearing the terrible claws of a grizzly, their arrival caused a great sensation. Roger did not spare himself in relating the story, for he knew his own failings; but, since it had come out well, he received nothing but congratulations.

The old forest ranger, Jasper Williams, lingered after the others had gone, and Dick saw that he had some sort of communication to make. The boys had managed to save Jasper's life when they were all prisoners of the warlike Sioux, and, ever since, the trapper had felt a great interest in the cousins.[4]

"I'm going off with two companions on a short trip," he now told the boys. "We may be gone a week, or even two, for we wish to investigate the truth concerning some stories that have come to us concerning a wonderful valley among the mountains, where all sorts of strange animals abound, even to goats that leap off the loftiest crags, and striking on their curved horns, rebound safely. It is even possible that, if we find the stories true, we may spend most of the winter there trapping and hunting."

The boys were sorry to learn this, for they were fond of Jasper and had hoped to see much of him during the long winter.

"We start in an hour, so as to get to a certain point by sundown," the ranger told them further. "You see, the winter has been holding back so long now that it is apt to start in any time with a furious storm, and the sooner we get to where we are going the better. The snow falls very deep in the mountains, and there are avalanches that bury everything under them forty feet deep."

It was in the heart of Roger to hint that they would be delighted to accompany the ranger; but a look from Dick caused him to bite his tongue and refrain. Afterwards, when they had seen the three men start forth, and cheered them on their way, Dick consented to explain his reasons for motioning to his cousin to say nothing about going along.

"We can't expect to be in everything, you see, Roger," he said. "After all, we are only boys, and some of the men here still look on us as inferior to them in ability to accomplish things, because they are so much stouter and stronger. We can find plenty to occupy our minds and hands while they are gone. Perhaps, who knows? should they come back, one of the men may not want to return with Jasper, and that would be our chance to try for an invitation."

"I suppose you're right, Dick," grumbled Roger. "You nearly always hit the nail on the head. But it would have been a fine trip for us. And, now that I've met with and killed one of these terrible grizzly bears we've heard such tales about, I'm burning with eagerness to shoot one of the strange mountain goats Jasper was telling about, that have such immense, curved horns."

"Plenty of time for all that, Roger," the other told him. "The whole winter is before us, and when spring comes, as we head further into the West we will have to cross many mountain chains before we see the ocean. Among them we will surely come across numbers of these queer goats, as well as elk, buffalo and antelope."

So Roger finally became reconciled to what could not be changed. There was really no occasion for his feeling that way long, because Dick busied himself in mapping out new ventures every night, as they sat before the campfire, with hands twined about their knees, and talked of home, and what wonderful sights they had looked upon since leaving the settlement of St. Louis.

Two days thus passed, and the boys were looking forward to doing further roaming, if the weather permitted, on the following morning. The afternoon was drawing to a close, and in the west the sun sank toward his bed among the far distant mountain peaks, while the heavens began to take on a glorious hue.

The camp of the explorers was a bustling scene at such an hour, for preparations were under way for the evening meal, the fires burned cheerily, and it was almost time for the guard to be changed.

Being under strict military rule, the members of the expedition day and night pursued their vocations with the same care as though they really anticipated an attack from some unseen enemy. Guards were posted at night, and no one was allowed to enter or leave the camp without giving the countersign.

This was done partly because Captain Lewis and Captain Clark believed in discipline, one of them having been brought up in the little army of the new republic. There was also another reason for keeping a constant watch. There had been a number of French half-breeds in this region before their arrival, and these men, who had been reaping a rich reward trading with the various tribes of Indians, viewed the coming of the Americans with great disfavor, believing it might bring their harvest to an untimely end.

Rumors had reached the ears of the commanders of the little force that some of these men were trying to excite the Sioux to take up the buried hatchet, and proceed in force against the Mandans and their new white allies.

On this account, then, it was necessary that the camp be guarded against a sudden surprise. At least, if trouble came the explorers did not mean to be caught napping by the cunning redmen.

"You don't think it feels much like snow, do you, Dick?" Roger asked, as they stood looking around them, with the sun commencing to drop down behind the horizon.

"The signs do not show it," the other told him; "but you know they sometimes tell us wrong. The season is so late, now, that we're liable to get a heavy storm any day and, as it's growing colder all the time, it will come as snow and not rain. Once it falls, the Indians say we will not see the bare ground soon again. But what are the men running to the other side of the camp for, do you suppose?"

"Listen, one of them just shouted that a man was coming, mounted on a horse," said Roger.

"That sounds as though it might be a white man," added Dick, as they hastened through the camp toward the other side where they might see for themselves what all the commotion meant. "Horses are not common in this country. We are running short ourselves, since we've had some stolen by prowling Indians, two died, and the three men who started down the river took as many more with them."

By this time they had arrived at a point where they could look toward the southeast, for it was to that quarter the attention of the members of the expedition seemed to be directed.

Dick uttered an exclamation that was echoed by his cousin. Their faces expressed the utmost dismay and alarm and there was good reason for this, as the cry that broke from Roger's lips indicated.

"Oh! Dick, what can it mean? There is the messenger who carried away our precious paper, coming back to camp on a worn-out horse. Something terrible must have happened!"

FOOTNOTE:

[4] See "The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri."