Some weeks passed, and still Jack stayed on with his new friend. The time had not been lost for the boy, as he had learnt many things which he had not known before, and which were very useful to him in after-life. He was quick and deft with his lingers, and Pedro taught him in a few days how to cut and plait long strips of leather into lariats and bridle-reins, and to make ornamental belts.
'I wish you'd teach me to throw a lariat like the cowboys,' said Jack one day.
'Come and try, then,' returned Pedro, taking down a long leather rope that was coiled round the tent-pole and going outside. 'Now watch me. I take the rope up in loops, leaving the noose end out. Then swing it round in a circle over your head, quicker and quicker, while you take aim and try and throw it over the beast's head like that;' and as he spoke, Pedro let the noose fall gently over Señor's neck, who was running past at some distance away.
'PEDRO LET THE NOOSE FALL OVER SEÑOR'S NECK.''PEDRO LET THE NOOSE FALL OVER SEÑOR'S NECK.'
'PEDRO LET THE NOOSE FALL OVER SEÑOR'S NECK.''PEDRO LET THE NOOSE FALL OVER SEÑOR'S NECK.'
He then put up a post, and showed Jack how to drop the noose over it. It was very hard at first to aim straight, but Jack had a quick eye, and after two or three days' hard practising, he made a very good attempt at throwing the rope in the right place. Day after day he went at it, until one never-to-be-forgotten morning he also succeeded in lariating Señor as he trotted by. This was a great achievement, and quite repaid Jack for the trouble of practising so hard to accomplish it.
One place that pleased Jack very much was a prairie-dog village close by. Many an hour did he spend watching the fearless little prairie dogs, who came out of their holes and barked defiantly at him like so many cheeky puppies, until the tears ran down his face from laughing at their antics. Sometimes for fun Jack pretended to throw stones at them, and the instant he raised his arm they disappeared down their holes as if by magic, but peeped out again in a minute or two, quite ready to venture forth again.
Jack saw a great many rattlesnakes when he wandered about with Pedro on the prairie. He was very much afraid of them—and no wonder, for their poisonous bite is often fatal. Pedro was so familiar with them from his childhood, that he did not mind them in the least, and killed them by an extraordinary native trick. He would fearlessly follow a retreating snake, seize it by the tail, swing it rapidly round, and with a dexterous twist of his wrist would crack it like a whip, and dislocate its spine. Being thus rendered helpless, the reptile was easily despatched. As a rule, they tried to escape, but if by chance one showed fight, it was harder to kill, as it would twist itself up in a coil, shaking its rattles noisily, with its head out ready to spring and strike.
Jack had a boy's love for possessing things, and in a short time, with Pedro's help, had a small collection of treasures to carry away with him. He found plenty of rattles on the prairie, as the snakes cast off their rattles every year, and Pedro gave him a skin of a horned toad, a curious creature covered with tiny horns all over its body.
One day Pedro killed a strange-looking animal called a skunk. It was very handsome, like a large black-and-white striped cat with a magnificent bushy tail, but it had such a disagreeable smell it made Jack feel ill.
'You surely can't skin that nasty thing?' he asked.
'Wait and see,' returned Pedro, carrying the dead animal towards a creek. 'I'll show you how the Indians skin 'em.'
He put the skunk quite under the water and kept it there while he took off the skin, as this process destroyed the strong odour belonging to the creature. Jack was very interested, and watched him until the skin was hung out to dry.
Pedro taught Jack to know some of the principal grasses that grew on the prairie. There was the bunch grass, the buffalo grass, and the funny sickle-shaped 'gamma' grass, on which thousands of cattle fed, and amongst others, Pedro pointed out a terrible plant, the dread of many a ranchman. With its pretty white flowers it looked harmless enough; but woe to the poor animals who ate much of the plant, for it contained a deadly poison which had first the effect of driving them crazy, and ended by killing them. It was called 'loco,' which in English means 'crazy,' and some people call it the 'crazy weed.'
A great number of cactus bushes grew round the tent; some were quite big, with long arms stretching out, covered with prickles, and others grew close to the ground, and Jack had to look carefully when he walked, or he would have got badly pricked.
Pedro was a grand story-teller, and often as they sat watching the sheep or working in the tent, he would tell wonderful tales. When they heard the dismal howls of bands of coyotes, or prairie wolves, he would tell Jack what cowardly creatures they really were: how they were afraid to attack strong cattle, but would persistently follow a weak, sick animal for days, dogging its footsteps until the poor thing fell from exhaustion. Then they would pounce on it and tear it in pieces.
He would tell him, too, about the time when he lived on the Indian frontier, and had to help to protect the settlers from the bands of fierce Apaches, Utes, and Navajo Indians, who came making raids for cattle over the border, often setting fire to houses and killing the settlers. He described how the Indians had massacred thousands of buffaloes by driving them into deep ravines where they could not escape, and then killing them, not so much to provide themselves with food as to prevent their enemies getting them. It was cruel slaughter, and the result has been that the buffaloes are almost extinct now, where years ago they swarmed in vast herds on the prairie.
As Jack listened to Pedro's tales of wonderful escapes from mountain lions, wolves, and bears, he saw himself that the Mexican was right, when he said it was impossible for a little child like him to attempt to cross the big mountains all alone, and he wisely made up his mind to stay contentedly with Pedro until he got the chance of travelling with some nice companion. He would have been quite happy with the Mexican and his good dog, except for the great longing to see his parents, which sometimes almost impelled him to resume his journey at all risks.
Jack had been two months with Pedro Gomez, and the weather was getting much colder. November had come, and although the sun still shone brightly and warm in the middle of the day, the nights were terribly cold, and Jack was glad enough to have the extra sheepskins to tuck round him which Pedro brought out for his use. There had been one fall of snow, which quickly cleared off the prairie again, leaving the mountains clothed with white above the timber-line. It was a pretty sight to see the contrast of the bright-coloured foliage against the snow, for in the autumn, all along the mountain creeks, the leaves of the oak-scrub turn a brilliant red, and those of the quaking aspen a bright yellow, making a wonderful mass of colour.
One afternoon Pedro called Jack out to look at the mountains. The sun was just setting, and its rays were spreading along the edge of the peaks, making it look as if the whole outline of the range had been marked out with a broad, blood-red ribbon.
'Look at that, Jack!' exclaimed the Mexican. 'Ain't that a grand sight? D'ye know what the old pioneers called them mountains?'
'I've heard, but I've forgot somehow. It's a grand long name as I can't remember,' returned Jack.
'Well, I guess ye'll bear it in mind after to-day, for they called itSangre de Christo, which in English means "Blood of Christ"; and folks say they gave the Range that name because the first explorers saw the mountains with that blood-red streak running along the top.'
'I shan't forget it now, I'm sure,' said Jack, gazing admiringly at the gorgeous scene before them. 'Sangre de Christo, Blood of Christ,' he repeated slowly. 'I like that name for it.'
'Aye,' returned Pedro, 'the old Spanish explorers gave nicer names to places than the new settlers have done later. Which d'ye think is prettiest, names likeHuerfano(Orphan),Buena Vista(Good View),Rosita(Little Rose), andRio Dolores(River of Sorrow); orSmith's Park,Taylor's Creek,Gibson's Peak, andGeorgetown, and such-like? Mr. Stuart was talking to me once about it, and he said it struck him as his own countrymen were mostly like them folk mentioned in the Bible as called their lands after their own names.'
'I like the old names best, for it seems as if they had some meanin' in 'em,' said Jack. 'I never saw anythin' like them mountains at Longview, and I'm glad to think our new home is somewhere near 'em.'
They stood watching until the glorious colour had quite faded out of the sky, and then turned into the tent, sorry to see the last of it.
The next morning Jack was tidying out the tent, when he saw Pedro and Señor hurrying towards him.
'Here's the boss himself!' cried Pedro, in a state of excitement. 'He's coming across the prairie in the spring waggon. Let's make up a good fire, as he'll be terrible cold after his long drive.'
Jack helped to bring in logs, and they soon had a roaring fire in the stove.
'Pedro,' asked the boy anxiously, 'd'you think he'll take me back with him to his ranch?'
'I'm sure he will,' returned the Mexican, 'and I'll miss you sadly, lad. I believe I couldn't part with you if I didn't know as you were longing to see your father and mother.'
'I've been very happy along with you and Señor,' said Jack, 'but I'm bound to go on to my own folks.'
'You're right. You belong to 'em first,' replied Pedro, 'though I'd give a good deal to keep you. But now we must go and collect the sheep, as the boss 'll want to see 'em.'
With Señor's help they ran the sheep into the big corral, and waited there. The waggon soon rattled up to them, and Jack stood quietly by, while the new-comer warmly greeted the Mexican.
'Well, Pedro, how are you making it this cold weather? Hope you and the sheep keep fit.'
'Couldn't be better,' returned Pedro; 'and how are you all at the ranch?'
'First-rate, thanks. If it hadn't been so cold, I'd have brought the children with me for the drive. But, hello! who have you got here?' And Mr. Stuart stared with surprise at Jack's quaint little figure dressed in his leather suit. As he drove up he had noticed what he thought was a young Mexican by Pedro (as Jack's face was tanned quite brown), but when he had looked again, he was struck with the intelligent look on the boy's face, and began to ask questions.
In answer, Pedro said, 'He's a little English boy who was left behind at Las Vegas by a mining outfit he was travelling with. He tried to follow 'em up, but got lost on the prairie in that bad thunderstorm we had about a couple o' months back. When Señor and I found him, he had an attack o' mountain fever, but I brought him to my tent and nursed him round. He's right enough now, and I thought maybe, when you hear his story, you'd help him on a bit.'
'What's your name, my boy?' asked the gentleman.
'Jack Wilson, please, sir,' answered the boy promptly.
'Well, Jack, you must tell me all about yourself when I come back. I'm going to look at the sheep with Pedro now, and I'll have a talk by-and-by.'
So saying, Mr. Stuart went away towards the corral, leaving Jack in great excitement. He liked the look of this fine young Englishman, who smiled so pleasantly at him, and he felt hopeful he would help him. While the men inspected the sheep, Jack made himself useful by carrying all the small things out of the waggon into Pedro's hut, where the provisions were stored. He had to leave the large sacks of flour, as they were too heavy for him to lift by himself.
'JACK MADE HIMSELF USEFUL.''JACK MADE HIMSELF USEFUL.'
'JACK MADE HIMSELF USEFUL.''JACK MADE HIMSELF USEFUL.'
When the men returned and Mr. Stuart saw how busy Jack had been, he said, 'Well done, my boy! I like to see a lad make himself of use of his own free will. It shows he likes to work, without being told. And now I want to know how you came to take up your abode with my sheep-herder?'
Encouraged by the kind interest Mr. Stuart showed in him, Jack told his story in a simple way, from the time he first started out from Longview, to where he had been so opportunely found by Pedro and Señor.
Mr. Stuart was greatly surprised, as he listened and learned how far the boy had already travelled.
'Do you really mean to tell me,' he asked, 'that you started out alone, with strangers, to try and reach your parents living at a place nearly three hundred miles away? I'm astonished that you have got as far as this. Indeed, I can hardly believe it;' and he looked searchingly at Jack.
'It's the truth, sir, all the same,' said the boy quietly, but there was a hurt expression on his open face which convinced the Englishman more than anything else of his honesty.
'Well,' he said kindly, 'I shall trust you, anyhow. At first it seemed impossible to me that a little lad, not ten years old, would dare to venture on along, perilous journey alone; but your straightforward answers have satisfied me, and I will gladly give you all the assistance I can. I'll take you back with me to my ranch; but I'm afraid you must give up the idea of crossing the mountains until next spring, as it is so dangerous at this time of year—very few people care to attempt it.'
Jack's face flushed with pleasure as he thanked the Englishman, and, although he could not but feel sorry at the thought of saying good-bye to Pedro and Señor, yet it was satisfactory to make a fresh start towards home, after the long delay.
He made his little collection of curiosities into a small parcel, and soon had all ready. It was quite touching to see the parting between the boy and his two friends. Over and over again Jack thanked the Mexican for his kindness to him, and a few tears fell on Señor's rough head.
'We'll remember you for many a long day,' said Pedro, 'and don't you forget Señor and me.'
'I'll come and see you again, when I'm bigger,' said little Jack, half crying. 'Good-bye, Pedro; good-bye, Señor.' And the waggon rolled slowly away.
'Adios!' cried poor Pedro huskily, and turned away with a tear in his eye. He had got so fond of his bright little visitor, and for the first time he felt really lonely in his tent, as he sat down to his supper the evening after Jack's departure. For some days he kept looking around at times, half expecting to see the well-known little figure playing about. Señor, too, seemed very disconsolate, and wandered about uneasily, coming from time to time to look up in Pedro's face in an inquiring way, as if to ask—'Where is he gone to? I can't find him.'
It was a long drive to the ranch, but Mr. Stuart was very kind in talking to Jack, and he enjoyed himself very much. It was a nice change to be borne so fast over the prairie, and when his new friend let him take the reins for a short time, he was exceedingly pleased.
Once he saw a flock of big birds a short distance off, feasting on the carcase of a dead beast. He got very excited, and exclaimed: 'Look there, sir! Ain't them eagles?'
'No, no, Jack!' replied Mr. Stuart. 'Those are not eagles; they are buzzards, or prairie scavengers, and are more like vultures than eagles. They are nasty creatures, but so useful in carrying away and devouring all carrion, that the State authorities won't allow them to be shot.'
The birds rose slowly in a great cloud as the waggon approached. There were about thirty of them, and they had picked nearly every particle of flesh off the animal's bones, which already looked white.
'The buzzards do their work quickly,' remarked Mr. Stuart. 'That beast had not long died when I passed it this morning.'
But after a while Jack got very tired and drowsy, and by the time they reached the door of the ranch-house, he was lying fast asleep at the bottom of the waggon, rolled up in rugs.
As the horses stopped at the door, Mrs. Stuart came out to welcome her husband, and the bright blaze of light that streamed from the house looked pleasant in truth to the cold and hungry man after his long drive.
'I'm glad to see you back safely,' said his wife. 'How did you find Pedro and the sheep?'
'In grand form,' he answered; 'and look here, in the waggon! I've got a surprise for you and the children.'
Mrs. Stuart looked at the bundle curled up and asked, 'What have you got there, Tom?'
'A little English boy, who'll take your heart by storm when you hear his story. He's quite tired out, so I'll just carry him quietly in and not disturb him.'
As he spoke he lifted the sleeping boy in his arms, and carrying him into a nice warm room, laid him on a sofa near a stove, where a fire was crackling merrily. Mrs. Stuart brought a soft blanket, and covered him gently, and as he did not stir, they wisely decided to leave him to finish out his sleep.
'CARRYING HIM INTO A NICE WARM ROOM.''CARRYING HIM INTO A NICE WARM ROOM.'
'CARRYING HIM INTO A NICE WARM ROOM.''CARRYING HIM INTO A NICE WARM ROOM.'
The tired horses were looked after by one of the ranch hands, and Mr. Stuart sat down to his supper. While he was eating it, he told his wife Jack's story. It at once roused her sympathy, and she said, 'Brave little fellow! What miles he has come, to be sure! We must do all we can to help him on to his people.'
'Yes; but I don't see any chance of his crossing the mountains until next spring,' returned Mr. Stuart. 'It's very late now, and no one is likely to come past here who would go over the divide at this time.'
'That's true,' agreed Mrs. Stuart, 'so we must do our best to make him happy, and keep him here during the winter months.'
'I only hope he'll find his mother alive, if he does get to their ranch,' remarked the Englishman dubiously. 'From what he told me, she must have been very ill when she left Longview, and I should be afraid the shock of his supposed death might have killed her.'
'Oh, Tom! How dreadful!' exclaimed his wife, quite distressed. 'I can't bear to think of such a sad thing. I am sure the little fellow's heart would break with grief.'
'Well! We will sincerely hope for the best, dear,' said her husband, 'and trust he will find her strong and well. She ought to be proud of her son, for it's a plucky thing for such a child to attempt a journey like this.'
'Come and look at him,' said the lady, rising and leading the way into the other room, while her husband followed her.
'Poor little Jack!' she said softly, 'and poor mother! How thankful she will be to see him again, after such a long separation! Fancy, Tom, if it had been our own little laddie!'
Her heart went out to the sleeping boy, and bending down, she kissed him lightly on the forehead. Jack stirred uneasily in his sleep and muttered, 'Mother.'
The word brought tears to Mrs. Stuart's eyes as she turned again to her husband, saying, 'Do you hear that, Tom? His thoughts are with her by day, and he dreams of her at night. It is most touching.'
'He is certainly a devoted little chap to his mother,' said Mr. Stuart. 'I wonder what the children will think of him?'
'They will be delighted to have a playfellow, and I expect they will never tire of listening to his adventures. We must leave him now till to-morrow;' and with another tuck in of the blanket round the boy, they left him still undisturbed for the night.
The next morning Jack felt someone shaking him gently, and murmured drowsily, 'I'm so sleepy, Pedro. It can't be time to get up yet;' and then he opened his eyes to find Mr. Stuart standing by the sofa.
Jack woke up thoroughly at the sight of him, and remembering where he must be, jumped up, exclaiming, 'Am I very late, sir?'
'No, my boy; but we have all finished breakfast, and as I felt sure you must be ravenous after your long fast, I thought it wiser to wake you up. You'll like to have a wash and a brush, and then come into the kitchen.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Jack, following him, and after a good wash in a big basin of clear creek water, he felt quite refreshed and terribly hungry.
'There's the kitchen,' said Mr. Stuart, pointing to a door; 'find your way in there and they'll give you your breakfast. I must go to the corral.'
Jack walked to the house and knocked shyly at the door before entering. Mrs. Stuart opened it and gave him a welcome.
'Come in, come in, Jack,' she said; 'I hope you are quite rested. I saw you last night, but you were so tired and fast asleep, we decided not to wake you up. We are very glad to see you here, and when you have had your breakfast, you must make friends with my little boy and girl. Look after him well, Martha,' she said, as she turned to leave the room, 'and give him plenty to eat.'
'I'll see to him, marm,' said the servant, who was a rough girl, but good-nature itself. She proceeded to heap his plate with food, and poured him out a cup of nice hot coffee, which smelt delicious to the hungry boy. She was very proud of her hot buckwheat cakes, and Jack did ample justice to them, smothered as they were in butter and syrup.
When he had finished, he pleased Martha very much by helping her to wash up the breakfast-things, and she was surprised and delighted to find how careful he was in drying and putting by the cups and saucers tidily in the cupboards.
He carried her in some buckets of water from the creek, and cleaned the knives.
'Is there anything else for me to do?' he asked presently.
'Can you work a bucksaw?' she said dubiously.
'Yes, I can,' returned Jack. 'I cut all my uncle's wood at Longview with one.'
'Well, I'd be glad enough for a few logs,' she said, 'for the boys are so busy this morning, they've quite forgot it's baking day, and I want plenty o' wood.'
'I'll cut it,' cried Jack, delighted to be of use, and hastened off to the wood pile. Here he found the bucksaw, and cut off a number of short lengths of wood. He was proceeding to split them with an axe, when he found himself being surveyed by a little boy and girl who were standing in front of him hand-in-hand. The boy was about six, and the girl a year younger, and they gazed at Jack with admiring eyes.
'Are you Jack?' asked the boy shyly.
'Yes, I am,' answered Jack, smiling at him.
'Well, I'm Teddy Stuart,' answered the new arrival, evidently anxious to converse, 'and this is Rita. She's my sister. Have you a sister?'
'No, I haven't,' returned Jack, 'but I've got a mother, though,' he added, not to be outdone.
'I know that,' said Teddy approvingly, 'and you've comehundredsof miles to find her. I'd go amillionto see my mother if she went away.'
'No, you wouldn't, Teddy,' broke in Rita, speaking for the first time, 'cos you're too little. You're ever so much littler than Jack. Jack,' she went on, with a funny grave look in her face, 'my daddy says you're a little hero, so I want to shake hands wiv you.'
She held out a small hand, and shook Jack's brown paw very solemnly, as if it was an important ceremony. Teddy, not to be behindhand, shook hands also.
'I like heroes,' Rita went on. 'Daddy tells me stories about them doing such brave things in battles. What grand things have you done, Jack?'
Jack looked puzzled at this question, but Teddy helped him by asking, in an awe-stricken voice: 'Did youkillanybody, Jack?'
'Oh, no!' returned our little friend; 'I never hurt nobody but those Mexican boys as set on me at Las Vegas. I tried to hurtthemall I could,' he said honestly, 'but they were too many of 'em and they whipped me.'
'I wish I'd been there,' cried Teddy valiantly. 'I'd have helped you, Jack, and p'raps we'd have beaten them between us.'
'I'm afeared they'd have had the best o' it anyhow,' returned Jack, shaking his head.
Rita listened to this conversation with a frightened look in her brown eyes, but she felt a greater respect than heretofore for Teddy after his brave speech. Mrs. Stuart joined them at this moment, and seemed very pleased to see the work Jack had got through since breakfast.
'You are a useful boy,' she remarked pleasantly. 'You've wasted no time this morning. Now, children, I see you have already made friends with Jack. Help him to carry this firewood into the kitchen, and then take him about and show him the animals.'
Delighted to be useful, Teddy and Rita helped Jack to carry in the logs, and soon the big wood box behind the stove was quite full.
Then they took him off to a stable, where they showed him their two little ponies which their father had brought them from New York. Jack had never seen such tiny creatures before. They were real Shetlands, and their shaggy manes and long flowing tails delighted the Western boy, who lingered near them as if quite fascinated. He utterly failed in his attempt to decide which he liked best, Teddy's black pony Raven, or Rita's white one called Snowball; for if the latter was theprettiest, Raven went thefastestof the two. They were dear little ponies, and so quiet; they followed the children about like a couple of big dogs when they loosed them.
They came in their wanderings to the big corral, or yard, where a great excitement was going on. Some cowboys were breaking in a very wild colt, and it was giving them no end of trouble. Mr. Stuart was present, and when he saw the children he put them into a safe place to watch the proceedings. Jack was very excited, as he had never seen a really wild broncho broken in before, and was most anxious to see it done.
It was so unmanageable, a cowboy had at last to lasso it with a lariat and throw it down. While two or three men kept it prostrate, the others quickly put on a saddle and bridle, and strapped the 'cinches,' or girths, up tight. The cowboy who was to ride the colt then gave a signal. The men let the animal struggle to its feet, and before it was aware, the youth with a quick bound was seated in the saddle.
Then began a terrible fight between the man and the horse. The latter tried to get its head down between its fore-legs, arching up its back and bucking wildly about, trying to unseat its rider, who, however, sat firm as a rock, holding the reins tight. After the horse had plunged and reared for some time, the bars of the corral were let down, and the cowboy worked the refractory steed towards this opening and out on the prairie. Here the animal made a fresh fight for victory; and, as if inspired to try another method to get free of its unwelcome burden, it suddenly darted away full gallop across the plain. They thundered along for miles, the rider quite powerless to check the runaway, nor did he wish to. He let the horse go, and at last it began to weary, and, of its own accord, lessened its speed. Slower and slower it went, until it would have stopped altogether, if the cowboy had permitted it. But this was his opportunity to show he was master, and accordingly he kept the colt going on; and when at last he turned its head towards home and trotted it back to the corral, its sweat-stained coat and drooping tail showed that the victory was won and the wild spirit subdued. As it carried the cowboy quietly enough up to the waiting group of spectators, they knew that the worst was over, and the colt, after such a struggle, would never give the same trouble again.
Jack was very happy at the ranch, as everyone took an interest in such a little traveller and was good to him. Mr. Stuart made him wild with pleasure, as he said he would like to do Steve Byrne a good turn for his kindness, and intended to write on the chance of his coming to Longview, and offer to make him one of his cowboys. Jack knew Steve would like nothing better, and it pleased him to think that his good-natured cousin would benefit through him.
Jack had been only three days with the Stuarts, when one evening a strange-looking vehicle, called a buckboard, drawn by an old white mule, approached the ranch, and a tall, wiry old man jumped out and knocked at the door. He held himself very erect, and although his hair was gray, he looked many years younger than he really was. His appearance was hailed with shouts of delight, for he was well known and a favourite with all.
'Come in, man!' cried Mr. Stuart, greeting him like an old friend. 'No one could be more welcome than yourself. I've not seen you for months.'
'I've been up in Nebraska till lately,' returned the man. 'I've stayed there a bit too long, as I ought to be in the Gunnison by now. Anyhow, I couldn't cross the Range without running in to have a look at you all.'
'That's right, Joe,' said Mr. Stuart. 'You'll stay here the night, of course? Get your mule to his alfalfa, and come on in to supper.'
The man went off to the stables, and Jack felt in a great flutter of excitement, wondering if Mr. Stuart meant to ask the stranger to let him accompany him. A cowboy told him the man's name, and in Jack's eyes the new-comer was to be looked upon with respectful awe, for he was one of the most famous hunters in the West. He had long since earned the sobriquet among other hunters of 'Champion Joe,' from the long list of triumphs he had achieved in the destruction of wild animals.
Numberless mountain lions, bears, wolves, and other wild creatures had fallen victims to his unerring aim, and many a fierce fight for life had he had with dangerous foes. The hunter's fame had reached even the lonely village of Longview, and his name was quite familiar to Jack.
When Joe came in again, Mr. Stuart at once opened up the subject, told Jack's story briefly, and asked him to allow the little lad to be his companion.
'The boy can't go alone, Joe,' he said, 'and I'd sooner trust him to you than anyone. I was going to keep him here this winter, but as this opportunity has occurred, I think it is a pity to miss it, if you'll take him along. His people are somewhere on the Cochetopa Creek, and that can't be so very far the other side of the divide.'
'I'll take him for you,' said the hunter. 'Where is he?'
'Here, Jack, come along!' called out Mr. Stuart. 'I can tell you, you're in luck to have fallen in with such a travelling companion. Here's the safest man to cross the mountains with, and he is going to take you with him.'
Jack came forward, and looked in the grizzled, tough old face with something akin to awe. The bright, keen eyes looked searchingly at him in return, as if their owner would read him through, and then the veteran held out his hand, saying in a deep mellow voice that sounded pleasantly in Jack's ears: 'Well, young un, so you and me's to be mates for a spell, eh? And I'm to keep the track clear of bears for you—is that so?'
'I'm awfully skeared of bears,' returned Jack truthfully; 'but I don't believe I'd be skeared of anything much if I were along with you;' and he looked confidently at the stalwart figure of the hunter.
'There's a genuine compliment for you, Joe,' remarked Mr. Stuart, laughing. 'You ought to appreciate that.'
'Aye, so I do,' returned Champion Joe, well pleased at the boy's unfeigned admiration. 'And now, kid, can you tell me whereabouts on the Cochetopa Creek your folks have located themselves?'
Jack shook his head. He had come over two hundred and fifty miles on that one word 'Cochetopa,' and now, when only about sixty miles from the nearest point of the creek, he had not the remotest idea if his parents lived near any town or village. He knew nothing beyond the name of the creek, and said so.
'That's a bit awkward,' said Champion Joe, 'for that 'ere creek runs down from the Range for about forty miles afore it joins the river; so I guess it'll be a trifle hard to find your folks.'
'My dad does freighting where he is,' ventured Jack.
'That's good,' returned Joe hopefully, 'for there's more chance o' hearin' summat o' him as we get over the Range in some o' the villages we'll pass through.'
'I think you'd better run off to bed, Jack,' said Mrs. Stuart, 'as you will have to be up early to-morrow morning.
'Yes,' joined in the hunter; 'get all the sleep you can. I start first thing in the mornin', as we ain't got no time to fool away. For all the sky's so bright, I'm mighty sure there's a snowstorm not far off, and I ain't one as enjoys a blizzard on the Range.'
Jack felt too restless to sleep much; and at last, when he dozed off, he dreamt he was being pursued by a bear, and it was just catching him, when Champion Joe came to his rescue and carried him away, while the bear vanished at the sight of the hunter.
The next morning there was a small crowd to see the two travellers off, and everyone seemed sorry to say good-bye to Jack. The children gave him little keepsakes, and made him promise to come and see them again.
'Good-bye, Jack,' said Mrs. Stuart kindly. 'I hope you will get safely to your journey's end, and find your father and mother well. We hope we shall hear good news of you later on, and, remember, we shall always be glad to see you here. Next time you must pay us a longer visit.'
'Thank you very much, ma'am, for being so good to me,' said Jack, who was too overcome to say much. The Stuarts had, indeed, treated the little wanderer kindly. That morning he had begged his hostess to take some of his packet of money (which Pedro had already refused), but she declined to accept it.
'My dear child!' she exclaimed, quite horrified at the idea, 'how could you suppose we would dream of taking any money from you?' And when he said good-bye to her husband, the good-natured Englishman slipped a twenty-five dollar bill into his hand, saying, 'There, Jack, my boy! you're an honest lad, I feel sure, and I'd like to give you this little nest-egg to help you on.'
No wonder Jack was almost speechless; but his new, kind friends understood and appreciated his silent gratitude far more than if he had poured forth volumes of thanks.
Mrs. Stuart had given him a warm blanket and a woollen helmet for his head, and Jack found the comfort of them very soon, as—though the morning was bright and clear when they started—it got intensely cold as they got higher up the mountains. The road was very steep and rocky, and covered with small boulders, so that it was impossible to go faster than at a walk. They quickly left all ranches and signs of civilization behind, and came into a wonderfully wild region. Part of their way lay through a dense forest of pines, where some of the trees had been cut down, and dragged on one side to make a rough road for travellers. It was very lonely, and not a sound to be heard except the noise of the wheels and the mule's feet moving over the rocks.
'THROUGH A DENSE FOREST OF PINES.''THROUGH A DENSE FOREST OF PINES.'
'THROUGH A DENSE FOREST OF PINES.''THROUGH A DENSE FOREST OF PINES.'
Jack looked once or twice at fallen trunks of trees, half fearing that a bear might be concealed behind them; but Joe assured him there was little chance of their seeing one at that time.
'Most of 'em 'll be hibernating—going to sleep in their dens for the winter,' he said; 'and if we did meet one, he'd be more likely to run away than to face us.'
'Is that so?' asked Jack in surprise.
'Yes,' replied the hunter; 'a bear 'll avoid a man as a rule, unless it's wounded, or it's a she-bear with cubs. Those 'll fight, sure enough, and dangerous things they are to tackle. We'll camp to-night at a log shanty near the top o' timber-line, where a mate of mine nearly lost his life. I'll tell you the story after supper.'
'I'd like that,' cried Jack, pleased at the promise of an adventure story.
Before long they had to get out of the buckboard and walk, to help the mule, which found it hard enough to drag up any weight at all. It was very tiring for all, and none were sorry when they reached the lonely little hut where they were to stay the night. Captain, the mule, was seen after first; he was put into a tiny corral, or yard, close by, and given plenty of baled or compressed hay, which is always carried by people in waggons travelling long distances, when fodder is hard to procure. Captain at once set to work to enjoy his well-earned meal and rest, while Joe and Jack lit a fire and cooked their supper, which they also relished.
After they had finished, Champion Joe got out his pipe and started it; then, seating himself on a clump of wood he had rolled into the hut, he began his story:
'This mate of mine, who got into this trouble with a bear, was a rash young fellow who didn't know what danger meant, and often laughed and said he'd like to meet a bear as could scare him. About four years ago he was mining up here, and living in this very shanty. He was drilling in the rock for ore, and had a fair-sized prospect-hole, when one day as he was comin' back here for his grub, he came face to face with a bear with two cubs. Of course he ought to have run back to his prospect-hole, where he'd have been safe enough till she'd cleared off from the spot, but no—he was that reckless, he went straight for her and attacked her with his pickaxe, which was the only weapon he had. He'd no chance, however, against her; and many a time has he told me the terrible feeling he had when he struck out at her with all his might and jest missed her. The next moment she sent the pickaxe flying out of his hands, leaving him quite at her mercy. She caught him, and hugged and mangled him terribly. He'd jest sense enough left to remember that he once heard as a bear won't touch a dead man, so he, poor chap, tried it on as a last chance for life. He lay quite stiff and quiet, and lucky for him the trick succeeded. She loosed her grip of him, and sniffed and sniffed round him, until I guess she thought she must have finished him off. Then she went away with her cubs and left him. My mate jest managed to crawl in here and shut the door, and here I found him an hour later, as near dead as any man I ever saw. The bear had torn him dreadfully and bitten him, and, I tell you, he took some nursing to pull him through; but he did live, and is going still. However, you may be sure as he don't scoff and joke any more about bears.'
'I should think not, indeed,' said Jack. 'What an escape he had! Did the bear come back again?'
'No,' answered Joe. 'I followed her up carefully, and shot her with that 'ere rifle of mine as you see there in the corner. But I didn't fool with her, for I've done more bear-hunting than any man in the States, and know by experience you must be cautious. Yes, I killed her, and the two cubs as well. She was a grizzly, and a fierce un, too.'
'Are there many different kinds of bears on these mountains?' asked Jack, who was very interested in the subject.
'A good many,' returned the hunter. 'We've got the black, brown, and cinnamon bears, which 'll avoid you if they can; and then we've the grizzlies and silver-tipped bears, which are a kind of grizzly. The latter ain't quite so fierce as the real grizzly, but ain't pleasant to face when they're wounded.'
Joe went on to tell how hunters tracked the creatures by the way they tore up ant-holes and rolled over big stones in their clumsy way of walking, and how they were often caught in traps set for them at the time when the wild raspberries and gooseberries were ripe, as then they came wandering down along the creeks, looking for the berries they liked so well.
Next morning, before they started, Joe showed Jack the exact spot where the fight had taken place between the miner and the bear; and then they put Captain into the buckboard, and began the last stage of the ascent.
It was a wonderfully clear day, and as they looked down, the country lay spread out below them like a gigantic map. The ranches, creeks and villages all looked so tiny and scattered to them, gazing as they did over hundreds of miles of prairie land.
Above them the sharp peaks seemed to pierce the keen blue sky, and the snow still lying on the mountain-sides was so dazzling from the sun's rays, that Champion Joe put on a pair of dark blue 'goggles,' and tied a piece of black veiling over Jack's face, to protect their eyes from getting snow-blind.
Higher and higher they went slowly on, and Joe remarked: 'Well, Jack, I guess we're about as near heaven on earth to-day, in one way of speaking, as you've ever been in your life afore, eh? Don't it look close? But, I say, young un, what's up?'
'I don't know,' said Jack very faintly. 'I've gone to feel so queer. I can hardly breathe, and my head aches as if it were going to burst.'
'Lie down, Jack, for a bit,' said the hunter kindly. 'It's the great height as we're up. This air affects some folks terribly. I've seen strong men helpless and hardly able to move, lower down than we are. We're close to the top now, so we'll wait till you feel a bit better.'
Jack did feel better after a short rest, and, with Joe's help, managed to creep slowly on, although he felt very ill and confused. At the top they found it bitterly cold, as some clouds had rolled rapidly up and obscured the bright sun. Jack shivered in spite of the blanket Joe wrapped him in. The descent on the other side of the Range was even harder on the mule than the terrible uphill drag, and Joe had to tie the wheels of the buckboard to prevent it running on to Captain. The road was so steep and stony, he could hardly keep his footing at times, and in one place there was nothing but a broad ledge cut out of the side of a rock, with a natural wall on one side and a terrible precipice sloping away on the other.
It made Jack feel so giddy looking down such an awful depth, that Joe, seeing how white he was, advised him to hold on to the back of the buckboard and keep his eyes fixed on the mule.
'Trust yourself to Captain,' he said, 'and I promise you he ain't likely to go over that, if caution is of any account. He ain't the one to losehishead on roads like this, as he knows 'em so well.'
Jack followed the advice given him, and got on much better, and when they had gone down a mile or two his head felt less heavy, and he was soon all right again.
Towards evening they approached a small settlement at the foot of the pass, called Redwood. As they drove in they found the people in a state of great excitement. A few hours before, the Sheriff of the county had run down and fought a band of horse-thieves just outside the village. The Sheriff and his men had won the fight, captured the thieves, and secured the stolen horses in corrals through the village. The place was almost in an uproar, and our travellers had some difficulty in finding a place where they could lodge themselves and their mule for the night. The Sheriff and his party seemed to fill the village, and some of the crowd round the gaol, where the horse-thieves were imprisoned, never moved away all night, fearing the robbers might try to break out before morning, when they were to be escorted by a strong body of men to the nearest town, to await their trial. Jack, however, was too tired to enter much into the great excitement going on, and was glad enough, after some supper, to wrap himself up in his blanket, and go to sleep on the floor of a tiny shanty outside the village.