CHAPTER XIII
"Look out, Mark, he is coming for you!"
"Jump out of the way, or he'll horn you sure!"
Such were the cries uttered by Bob and Maybe Dixon, as the big elk charged upon Mark.
The boy was taken somewhat by surprise, but he did not lose his presence of mind. He made a quick leap to one side, and the elk struck one of the trees growing close to the pool. Then, before the animal could turn, Mark blazed away with his shotgun, hitting the elk in the side of the head.
"That's the way to do it," said Maybe Dixon, who was reloading with all speed.
The shots had caused the other elk to depart in haste. But the wounded animal was more ugly than ever, and now made a leap for Bob, who had just picked up a heavy stone. The former sailor had let drive, hitting the elk in the nose. Then, as the animal paused once more, Maybe Dixon's rifle spoke up a second time, and a ball passed into the elk's stomach. The animal fell over with a snort and a grunt and began to paw the air wildly.
"Hurrah! we've got him down!" cried Mark. "Now let us finish him."
"I am willing," said Bob, and threw another stone, hitting the elk a sharp blow in the skull. Then Mark ran close and discharged the shotgun into the animal's vitals. This finished the elk, and the game gave a final convulsive kick and lay still.
"Now we've got meat as well as water!" cried Mark, when the battle was at an end.
"Load up," said Maybe Dixon, hurriedly. "Those other critters may be around." And Mark did reload. But none of the elk showed themselves, nor did the small deer put in an appearance again.
By their united strength they hoisted the elk's carcass into the branches of a low tree, and then set off on the return to camp. They all felt so happy that the walk back did not bother them, although in the morning Bob complained somewhat of sore feet.
"Water, and all you want!" cried Mark, on entering camp, a little after midnight. "And we've got better news still," he added.
"Did you strike a gold mine?" questioned one of the Socket boys.
"No, we didn't strike a mine, but we struck an elk, and killed him too."
"Then we'll have some fresh meat to-morrow," said Si. "Good enough."
The stars were shining brightly, so it was decided to move on to the spring without delay. Our young friends and the Sockets did so, and were soon followed by at least a score of others. Fortunately the water held out, for which all were thankful. By noon of the next day a hundred pioneers were encamped around the spring, filling their pails and buckets and dishpans. The pool kept filling up steadily, the overflow disappearing in a sink-hole among the trees.
"We must put a sign on the reg'lar trail, pointing to this spring," said Maybe Dixon. "Maybe it will help a whole lot of folks." And the sign was put up before they left that vicinity and remained up all the time that the rush to the gold fields was on.
The elk was cut up in the morning and the meat passed around, the boys and Maybe Dixon getting flour, beans, and coffee in return. Fresh meat was a rarity and the boys enjoyed their steaks and pot roasts exceedingly. In return for an extra juicy steak Mrs. Socket baked them some more bread and also a batch of pancakes which Si declared tasted "like hum."
Once again they passed on, with the same long procession of emigrants before and behind them. Other springs had been found, and soon some heavy rains caused the dried-up springs to flow again, so nobody suffered quite as much from thirst. But now the road was bad and more than once poor Darling and the Socket horses went up to their breasts in the sand and dirt. This made extra work all around and there was constant grumbling all along the line.
"We'll earn all the gold we ever git," said one old man to Mark. "I'm goin' back." And he started for home that very afternoon, and more than a dozen followed. But the majority merely set their teeth and kept on, trusting that in the end they would be well rewarded for their pains.
Two days later Mark fell in with a pioneer he had met several times before. This man, whose name was Bender, nodded pleasantly and walked with Mark for several miles.
"I believe you're the lad that showed up Sag Ruff and his crooked ways," remarked Bender.
"I am."
"I met Ruff three days ago. He feels mighty sore over what happened."
"Is he bound west?" queried Mark.
"Yes, and if I were you I'd keep my eyes peeled for him, lad. He's a bad egg if ever I saw one."
"I know that. He spoke of me, did he?" mused Mark.
"That he did. He said it was the one desire of his life to square up with you."
"He told you that?"
"Oh, no, not me. He wouldn't dare to speak to me—I'd plug him quick. He was talking to a pal of his—fellow by the name of Gannon—Soapy Gannon they call him. He's another bad egg, but too cowardly to be very harmful. Soapy is Ruff's tool for dirty work when there ain't much danger. I was at the camp and overheard the talk between them."
"Then I had better watch out," said Mark, with a serious look on his face.
"Do so by all means. You don't want to take chances with a fellow like Sag Ruff—nor with Soapy Gannon either," went on the man, and then talked of something else.
The taste of fresh meat had made the three boys eager to try their hand at bringing down more game, and one day Mark and Bob took to a side trail, thinking they might stir up some prairie hens if nothing larger. Both had shotguns, having borrowed one weapon from Josiah Socket.
It was a cool, clear day, with a suggestion of fall in the air, and the boys felt in the best of spirits as they hurried along. They had agreed to meet Si, Dixon, and the Sockets at the ford of a river ten miles further to the westward.
"I can tell you one thing, Bob," said Mark, "this beats sitting in a stuffy office, copying legal papers."
"I can imagine so, Mark. But it's too bad you had to leave under such a cloud."
"Yes, that is the one thing that makes me sad. My step-father will never believe in my innocence."
"Yes, but he can't prove that you took that money."
"No, but it looks black against me."
"Maybe he won't think you guilty—if you come home with a big bag of gold."
"Maybe that's true—as Dixon would say," and Mark smiled faintly. "Mr. Powers thinks a heap of money."
"Well, so do we—or we wouldn't undergo these hardships to get it."
The boys trudged along until they reached the edge of some timber, and here came to a gurgling brook, where they stopped for a drink. They were about to go on, when Bob pointed to some prairie hens, sitting in a bit of a clearing a hundred or more yards away.
"Let us both fire," whispered Mark. "You can fire to the right and I'll fire to the left."
Bob was willing, and creeping a little closer they raised the guns.
"All ready?"
"Yes."
"Then fire!"
Bang! bang! went the two shotguns, almost as one piece, and two of the prairie hens fell over while three more began to flutter around wildly. The others lost no time in disappearing into the timber.
"Come, we must get the wounded ones, too!" cried Bob, and started forward. One was caught with ease and its neck wrung. Then a second flew straight up into Bob's face.
"Hi! get out of that!" screamed poor Bob and tried to beat the fowl off. As he did this Mark caught it from behind and quickly dispatched it. Then Bob caught the other fowl and killed that too; and the brief excitement came to an end.
"Five prairie hens," said Mark, surveying the game. "Not so bad for a start."
"One thing, we won't go back skunked," answered his chum, with a grin.
"Oh, we are going to get a good lot more game than this, Bob."
"I trust so. But 'you can't vos alvays somedimes dell,' as the Dutchman said," added the former sailor lad.
With the game slung over their shoulders, they advanced into the timber, finding a trail which seemed to run due westward. They had not gone far before they caught sight of a small deer and both went after it on a run, but it got away from them behind some trees.
"We must go ahead with more caution after this," said Mark. "We are making too much noise."
In less than an hour they found themselves in the very heart of the forest. Great trees grew on all sides of them, and the monstrous roots were anything but easy to climb over. In one spot were thick masses of vines, utterly barring their further progress in that direction.
"Say, I don't like this!" exclaimed Bob at last. "This forest is getting thicker and thicker."
"Just my idea," answered Mark. "I thought we would be through to the other side before this."
"It's wider than I imagined. Perhaps it keeps on for miles, Mark."
They came to a halt, not knowing exactly what to do. Then Mark scratched his head.
"Shall we go back, Bob?"
"Not if we can reach that river by going ahead."
"It's pretty dark under these trees."
"So it is."
"Do you know which is west, now that the sun has gone under a cloud?" went on Mark seriously.
"The west? Why—er—the west is—let me see——" Bob looked around in bewilderment. "Hang me if I know where the west is!" he ejaculated.
"And I am in the same fix."
"That's bad, Mark. Let us go back!"
"I am willing, but where is the trail we were following?"
"I think—let me see—we came around those vines from—No, we didn't—we——"
"Don't you know for certain?"
"No. Do you?"
"I do not."
"Jerusalem! We are lost!"
"Exactly what I think."