"They're sure comin', Thad!"
The scoutmaster looked up when Giraffe said this.
"Oh! you must mean that big cannon Kracker, and his two friends?" he remarked, in such a cool tone that Giraffe fairly gasped for breath.
"That's them!" he declared, with an utter disregard for grammar that would have caused him to lose some of his good points in school had the lapse occurred there. "And my stars! they look ugly enough to eat us all up, without caring for bones!"
"But I calculate they won't, all the same," replied the other, smiling with supreme confidence. "Did Allan send you in to tell me?" he continued, for he had delegated the second in command to keep watch and ward when he was busy in his tent doing something.
Giraffe nodded his head violently; indeed, any one who did not know how tenacious a hold it had on that long neck, might have been alarmed lest he dislocate his vertebra through such contortions.
"Yep; and he said you was to come out and see for yourself," Giraffe went on.
"All right, I will then."
Thad quietly picked up his little twelve-bore Marlin before quitting the tent; and there was an air of business about his manner of doing so quite different from the fussy way Giraffe had of doing things, but which was apt to appear much more convincing in the eyes of any one who could read character fairly well.
When the scoutmaster reached the open air he found quite a buzz of excitement around the confines of the little camp. It seemed as though the scouts must certainly be anticipating something in the line of trouble; because every one who had a gun was nervously fingering the weapon, and watching the coming of the three figures stalking toward the camp from across the little valley.
There was Giraffe, first of all, gripping his big rifle eagerly, a grim look on his thin face; Bumpus had his ten-gauge Marlin clenched tightly in his hands, and perhaps some of the usual color was missing from his fat face; but he had a reputation to sustain now, and knew he must toe the mark like a little man; Allan had his rifle in evidence; and Aleck having lost his at the time he was captured, was keeping a hand close to one of his pockets in which reposed a small revolver which one of the other scouts had loaned him.
Bob White did not have a gun either, since he had let Smithy go off with his; but he did not mean to be caught defenseless, should trouble arise; and back of him he was holding that handy camp hatchet.
The Fox,—well, if he was anywhere around the camp, Thad failed to discover him; and even at that exciting moment the scoutmaster remembered thinking that perhaps the Crow boy had hidden, not wishing any of the Kracker crowd to see him.
Thad glanced around him. He had considered the situation before this, like the wise general who notes down in his mind the promising points connected with his chosen field of battle.
Speaking a few words to Allan, who knew what the plan of campaign was to be, Thad sent the other over to a clump of rocks, from the crest of which, not more than fifty feet away, he could have a splendid and unobstructed view of the camp, as well as its surroundings. Indeed, hardly a snake could have crawled across that open space without being exposed to the sharp eyes of the Maine boy.
Then Thad awaited the coming of the three men.
Just as Giraffe had declared, he could easily see that they were all looking more or less angry. The big man in the middle interested him much more than either of the others, of course; because he knew very well that when Colonel Kracker took snuff, it was up to Waffles and Dickey Bird tosneeze; for they were only shadows of the leader, who always controlled their actions.
Thad had never seen just such a man before; but for all that he believed that what he had said before was the truth. Red-faced, and looking like a big hurricane let loose on the land, still back of all this outward display of fierceness Thad felt sure there lay a really cowardly heart. Yes, no brave man would act as Kracker had done, and when it came right down to the point of facing death, he was pretty sure to quail.
Thad turned, and spoke a few reassuring words to Aleck.
"Remember, we don't mean to let him lay a finger on you, boy. I've drawn a line out between that rock, and the scrub oak over yonder; and if he crosses that we're going to make him wish he hadn't. There'll be some work for me to do picking bird shot out of his fat legs, and binding up his other wounds; for we've sure got to stop him coming in to this camp, no matter what happens!"
It was a remarkable situation for the acting scoutmaster of a troop of Boy Scouts to find himself in. Very few others could ever say they had gone through a like experience, Thad thought. But then, that was no reason he and his mates were bound to let this tyrant walk rough-shod over them, and take Aleck away, to continue his harsh and inhuman treatment of the lad. No, if it were necessary,in order to avoid such a catastrophe overtaking them, he must give the command to fire on the enemy, much as he would ever regret the necessity for such a step.
He wondered what the leading lights in the great organization would say, should the circumstances ever be placed before them; but then, scouts should acquit themselves manfully under any and all conditions; and that was just what Thad meant to do now.
The men were now close enough to make sure that those facing them were only boys. Thad could see that Kracker was looking closely, as though anxious to settle that point first of all; and it agreed exactly with the opinion he already entertained for the big prospector; namely, that he was what Giraffe would call "a wind-bag," or a puff-ball, like those every one has stepped on in the fields, that go off with a pop, emit a little cloud of dust, and then collapse.
But what was there to be feared from a mere parcel of half-grown boys? Kracker doubtless believed that he could awe them with that fierce look of his, and the domineering way he had of holding himself erect; while it was almost certain that when they heard his awful voice, sounding like hoarse thunder, their very legs would tremble under them, so that their knees must knock together.
But apparently no one was doing much trembling,as yet, for they seemed to stand there in a line, and holding their guns half raised, with the stocks hitched under their shoulders, in the manner of those who have hunted much, and know which might be the easiest method of flinging a gun to rest in a second of time.
One of the men had a rifle. He was the fellow whom Thad guessed went by the name of Dickey Bird. But then, no doubt both Kracker and Waffles carried smaller arms about their persons somewhere, for Thad could see signs of their belts, and judged the heavy revolvers were swung back of them, where a hand could sweep around and lay hold of the butt easily.
The scoutmaster had made up his mind that Kracker was the only one whom they had to fear in the least. With him removed from the game, the other two would turn out to be easily handled. In fact, they would probably throw up their hands in surrender the very instant anything happened to take the big man off. And accordingly Thad meant to devote all his energies toward cutting the claws of the colonel. He had given Allan his ideas on the subject, and the Maine boy agreed with him fully.
They were coming close to the imaginary dead line Thad had marked between that pile of rocks and the stunted tree. Half a minute more, and he felt that he must call a halt.
Would they mind what he said; or, thinking that orders from a mere boy were not to be taken seriously, would they insist on advancing further?
Thad gritted his teeth, and was more resolved than ever that if Kracker invited trouble he would get it, good and hard. He would find out that guns can be just as dangerous in the hands of boys, as men.
But now he noticed that the big man had slowed up a little. Perhaps he did not just like the way they stood there waiting, and with so many guns handy, too.
Thad deliberately cocked his shotgun. The sound of the hammer clicking could be plainly heard, just as the boy intended it should; and there was something terribly business-like and significant about it.
At any rate, Colonel Kracker reduced his pace another notch, as if in answer to an unspoken challenge. He was not so brave inwardly as his fierce outward appearance would seem to indicate.
His eyes were glued upon the figure of young Aleck, who stood beside Thad, just a step to the rear, possibly. And apparently Kracker was trying to throw all the force of his domineering character into that glare. It was really enough to frighten one into fits, Thad thought; but somehow it did not make him even tremble, because he believed surface indications often told what was not true.
"Keep on giving him back look for look, Aleck!" was what Thad said in a low tone, intended only for the ear of the boy they had rescued from the cliff ledge.
"Oh! I ain't afraid of him now; he couldn't make me squirm when I was all alone, and in his power; so it ain't likely I'm shivering, now that I've got so many friends to back me up," answered the other, also in a hoarse whisper.
"Good for you!" Thad sent back.
At the same time he coughed.
This had been arranged as a signal for the rest of those who carried guns, to raise them to their shoulders. The action itself ought to convince Kracker that he had reached the limit of the peace line; and that if he persisted in advancing any further, he might expect something to happen.
It worked splendidly. The big man came to an abrupt halt, and of course so did Waffles, and Dickey Bird too. Thad did not think much of the last mentioned; but the other fellow looked to be just such a sort of "second fiddle" whom a man like Kracker would choose to assist him in his schemes, that were so often evil.
And they were right on that imaginary line Thad had marked out, too; had they persisted in advancing three more feet he meant to call out sharply, and warn them to pull up.
Slowly Kracker elevated that fat right hand ofhis. Many a time, no doubt it had given some poor wretch cause for trembling when he pointed that finger at him. Just now, with those terrible eyes of his glued upon Aleck, he made his forefinger move, once, twice, three times, in a significant beckoning gesture.
Then he spoke, and his deep-toned voice was not unlike the rumble of thunder at a time the lightning is darting among the heavy storm clouds.
"Come here!"
"Don'tmove, Aleck!" said Thad, instantly, and he raised his voice enough, to purposely let the three men hear what he said.
Of course the boy did not budge. Perhaps he even gave Kracker back look for look, only that there may have been a smile of contempt upon his boyish face.
"Don't you hear what I say, come here!" roared the colonel.
"He hears you all right, but he feels quite satisfied to stay where he is," said Thad, in a cool tone.
The other turned those blazing eyes on the speaker.
"Who asked you to put your finger in my business?" he demanded, harshly.
"I'm not. It's you who keeps on meddling with things that concern this boy and his mother only. I suppose you are Colonel Kracker?" Thad went on.
"That's my name, and anybody who knows me would tell you that you're doing the most foolish thing in all your life, when you try to interfere with any affair on which I've set my heart. I want that boy to come to me!" and he shook his fat finger threateningly toward Aleck as he said this.
"Then you'll have to take it out in wanting, let me tell you;" replied the patrol leader, "for he belongs in this camp of Boy Scouts; and we're going to stand back of him."
If Thad was excited he certainly did not seem to be so; in fact Giraffe wondered how in the world he could command his voice so well, and speak so calmly, when on his part he was fairly shivering with the nervous tension.
"What's that you say?" shouted the big man, bristling all over with rage until he seemed to swell up larger than ever. "Why, you little imp, d'ye know what I've a good notion to do with you for this insulting talk?"
"I don't know, and neither do I care," replied Thad, "but there's one thing I do thinkyouought to know."
"Oh! you do, eh? What might that be?" demanded Kracker, sneeringly.
"Turn your head a little to the left, and you'll see a pile of rocks," the scoutmaster went on. "Now, look up on top of that pile, and you'll see a young fellow on one knee, holding a big rifle straight on you. That's one of our chums. He's from the State of Maine, where they teach boys to be able to hit a leaping deer straight in the heart every shot. Try and take just three steps this way, if you want to test his skill with the rifle. Or any one of you start to raising a gun; and my word for it you'll never know what hit you. Get that, Kracker?"
Evidently the big man saw Allan kneeling there, and holding his gun leveled. The sight did not give him any too much enjoyment, either, judging from the way some of the color faded from his face. He spluttered quite as much as before, but he had lost a good part of his make-believe courage. In fact, Thad believed he had the big bully on the run; and he meant to press his advantage.
"If I don't get him this time, I will later on," said Kracker, giving Aleck a look of intense hatred.
"Don't you believe it," declared the scoutmaster, cheerfully. "We're going to see him through, and if it's necessary, we'll find a way of sending word to the fort, and bringing a bunch of hard-riding cavalrymen here to chase you out of the mountains. And just remember, Colonel Kracker,there are eleven of us, all told, well armed, and knowing how to take care of ourselves. We're no city greenhorns, either, but scouts who have had a whole lot of experience in hard places. Now, if you know what is good for you, keep away from our camps, wherever they may be. Our guide, Toby Smathers, who knows you like a book, says that lots of good people would throw up their hats and cheer, if they heard you'd crossed over the line. You understand what I'm saying, I guess, don't you?"
"You're doing a fool play, young feller, believe me," spoke up the man called Waffles, thinking it was up to him to stick in his oar. "They ain't many men as would dar' talk to the kunnel like you done. Better hand the boy over to him; he's his uncle, and has a right to take charge of him."
"That's a lie!" burst out Aleck, angrily. "He came around our home, and tried every which way to get mother to just tell him what she knew about the mine, promising all sorts of shares if only she'd trust him; but since she didn't know a single thing about where it lay, and wouldn't believe him on oath, either, course she didn't make any arrangement. But he ain't any relation of mine."
"It wouldn't make any difference if he was, Aleck; when you say you don't want anything to do with Kracker, that settles it," and Thad all this while kept his eyes fixed on the big man, because hebelieved the other to be just full of treachery and all kinds of trickery, so that he would be ready to do something desperate if only he thought he could take the young scoutmaster by surprise, and off his guard.
"You don't understand the matter at all," complained the big man, with something like a whine in his gruff voice now, showing that he was pretty nearly cowed.
"How is that?" demanded the other, instantly.
"I'm meaning to be his friend, and the friend, of his folks," Kracker continued.
"Funny way you have of showing your friendly feelings, then, I must say," declared Thad, with scorn in his voice; "making him a prisoner, trying to force him to give up a secret you choose to think he carries; and when he refuses to take you at your word, putting him there on that ledge, to starve, or face a horrible death in perhaps falling down a couple of hundred feet."
Kracker looked a little confused, but it was only a flash in the pan. Such a thing as shame was foreign to his nature. For years he had been used to browbeating almost every person with whom he had had dealings. The fact that first of all a mere slip of a woman had dared defy him, and then her boy did the same, nettled him beyond description; and he had arrived at desperate measures at thetime Aleck, so unfortunately for the boy, fell into his hands.
And now it galled Kracker to see how he and his two helpers were being actually held up by a parcel of half grown lads. Why, it would seem as though some mockery of fate had taken hold of his fortunes, and was finding keen pleasure in adding to his humiliation.
He would have liked to rush upon these cool boyish customers, and to have trampled them under foot, as he had possibly done many men in times past, when he was less huge in his proportions, and could get around better. But somehow he did not dare attempt it.
Perhaps it was the display of weapons that awed him; and yet Colonel Kracker was accustomed to seeing such things, and knew how to take them at their true value. Then it may have been the manner of the spokesman of the little party that had so depressing an effect upon the bully. Why, what was the world coming to, when mere boys began to hold the whip hand, and shape things as they pleased?
He started to talk, but spluttered so much he could not make intelligible sounds. And his round moon face had taken on a deep red hue again, until it bordered on the purple. Thad, who had some knowledge of medicine, as we have seen on numerous occasions, really began to wonder whether thebulky man might not be getting perilously near the border line, and taking chances with a sudden attack of apoplexy, or else something else along those lines.
Once or twice Thad had seen something move back of the three men. He dared not take his eyes off them long enough to look carefully, and at first could not decide whether it was a prowling wolf, bold enough to come thus near the camp in broad daylight; or a human being.
He even suspected at one moment that possibly the invaders might have been in greater numbers than any of the scouts dreamed; and that some of them were even then creeping around, with the idea of turning the tables on the boys by a sudden coup.
But that idea went glimmering, when he contemplated the utter impossibility of any foe crawling across the bare and open stretch of rock extending between their camp, and the foot of the rise.
It certainly could never be done; and with the Maine boy keeping watch on things from his eyrie amid the piled-up rocks.
Then what?
Why, to be sure, it must be the Fox. The young Crow had vanished, Thad remembered, at the approach of the trio of prospectors. Just where he had gone the patrol leader had neither known, nor cared, at the time. He seemed to have some reason for fearing either Kracker, or one of the two lesserrascals with him; and appeared desirous of keeping out of their sight.
Thad also remembered that the Indian boy possessed a gun. He only hoped he would not do anything rash; but then he had been present when the scoutmaster spoke to those under him; saying that as members of the great organization that made for peace, they must not use their firearms unless as a very last resort; and then only to cripple their enemies. The Crow had nodded his head with the rest when Thad asked for this assurance; and surely an Indian keeps his word.
There, once again his head poked up into view, and this time so close to the men that Thad saw the Fox had been stealthily creeping nearer all the time.
Did he have some object in his movements, or were they caused simply by curiosity to see how close he could get, unobserved, to the one he seemed to fear?
Seeing that Kracker was too furious to even control his voice, the shorter fellow, whom Thad took to be Waffles, again put in his talk.
"It's plain to be seen you critters don't know the kunnel," he observed, bitterly, just as though he himself had had a long experience, and knew what it meant to stir up that vile temper too far. "He never gives a thing up. He's jest like a bulldog that gits a grip. Ye may chase us off this time; butwe'll stick like a plaster; and in the end git what we wants. We allers does."
"Oh! you don't say?" remarked the scoutmaster, with cutting emphasis; "well, the chances are the lot of you will get what you've been richly deserving a long time back, if you keep on meddling with our affairs. And now, suppose you skip out. We couldn't come to any agreement if we talked an hour. And we have some other things we want to do. Take your fat friend away, Waffles; he's liable to explode before long, unless you do."
Amazed at the cool defiance of the boy, the man called Waffles mechanically started to obey. But before they had taken half a dozen steps backward, Thad heard a strange, hissing sound that he could not understand. The next instant, to his astonishment, he saw Waffles pulled over backwards, his feet sprawling awkwardly. His calls for help were half muffled, and for a very good reason; since he was being partly choked by the loop of rope which the young Crow Indian had thrown over his head with so much dexterity, and then jerked tight.
It was certainly a time for quick thinking, and speedy action, if the boys expected to avoid a tragedy. Naturally enough, Kracker and his one remaining companion, hearing the cries of the fallen Waffles, would think that they were being actually set upon by their enemies, and that no matter what followed, they must fight.
It was to offset this that Thad first of all turned his attention. A collision must be averted at all hazards. It would be a terrible thing if the scouts became embroiled in a fight with such men, and either received wounds, or were compelled to give them.
And so Thad, acting instantly on impulse, darted forward the very second he saw what was happening. Fortunately for all parties, the big man having been so dazed by his late baiting did not seem able to grasp the situation quickly enough to draw a weapon before Thad was upon him.
The only thing the boy did was to snatch the big six-shooter from the hand of Kracker, now tremblingwith various emotions, in which fear may have had as much space as anger.
"Surround the other, and don't let him raise a hand, boys!" shouted the scoutmaster to those who had followed close at his heels when he thus rushed forward.
With the words he turned to where Waffles was still sprawling on the ground; but there was now more reason than ever why the fellow could not get up, because some one was sitting astride his body, and threatening him with a knife. Of course it was the Fox; and he seemed to have a storm of passion in his dark face.
But while Thad had been prompt to knock the revolver from the hand of Kracker, he was just as quick to leap alongside the young Crow boy, and grasp his wrist.
"Give me that knife, Fox!" he said sternly.
The Indian looked up in his face; for a moment it seemed as though he might be about to mutiny, and positively refuse the order; then his whim changed, and opening his fingers he allowed the shining blade to fall to the ground.
"Ugh! hunt him long time; now find, make give up what snake in the grass steal away from teepee in reservation!" he grunted, disconsolately.
"Oh! well, if he's got anything that belongs to you, or your people, why you've my full permission to search him, and get it back," Thad went on tosay, quickly; "only we want no violence here, if we can help it. We scouts generally manage to reach our ends without that, you know, Fox. Go ahead and see. We'll keep his friends quiet meanwhile, eh, boys?"
"That's what we will, Thad," said Giraffe, who was standing close by, with his gun poking almost into the ribs of the big man with the purple face. "We c'n do it to beat the band, I tell you. And here comes Allan in, to have a hand in the game. Didn't he keep a bead on the colonel here all the while; and if you hadn't jumped in, and snatched that gun away from him, I warrant Allan was just on the point of making him a one-armed man for a while."
But Thad was not paying much attention to what the talkative Giraffe said, his attention being taken up with other matters. The Fox had heard him give permission to search the pockets of the short rascal he was holding down, after having caught him in the loop of Bumpus' rope, taken slily from the limb of the tree where the fat scout carefully kept it while in camp. The light that flashed athwart the mahogany colored face of the young Crow told how pleased he was with this chance that was offered.
He immediately started to rummage through the various pockets of Waffles. Quite naturally the lesser bully objected to such liberties being takenwith his person; and it must have galled him more than a little to realize that it was anIndian, and a boy at that, who was subjecting him to such indignities; for like most men along the border, Waffles undoubtedly held Indians in contempt.
But when he raised his voice in stormy protest Thad told him to hush up; besides, the Fox leaned over and glared in his eyes with such a suggestive look that Waffles, being a coward at heart, gradually subsided, his protests taking the safer form of groans, and grunts, and wriggles, all of which were alike unavailing.
Presently the Crow uttered a cry of joy.
"Found what you were looking for?" asked Thad.
"Ugh! it is well!" and as he said this the Fox held something up.
Thad may have thought that the Indian boy was making a mountain out of a mole-hill, for if it had been left to him, he did not know that he would have willingly paid more than a dollar, at the most, for the object the Fox now gripped with such evident delight. But then, at the same time Thad realized that associations often have a great deal to do with the value of things. That peculiar strip of deerskin, decorated with colored beads that formed all sorts of designs, must have come down from some of the Fox's ancestors. Perhaps it was a species of wampum similar to that in use as currencyduring the earlier days, when men like Daniel Boone were trying to settle along the Ohio River. And then again, it might be that the fore-fathers of the Fox always wore this strip of beaded leather when they were invested with the office of chief to the tribe.
At any rate, Waffles had apparently known of its value, and had stolen it, possibly hoping at some time to receive a rich reward for its safe return; for surely he could not have fancied it because he had any love for beauty, or meant to start a collection of Indian relics.
"Are you satisfied, Fox, now that you've recovered your property—if that is all he took from your home?" Thad asked.
"Huh! much like mark thief on him cheek, so know where belong!" grunted the Crow boy, longingly.
"Don't you let him!" almost shrieked the wretched Waffles, doubtless fearing that he was going to be tortured, as a penalty for his shortcomings. "Them Injuns jest like to mark a man all up, when they gits the chanct. Tell him to git off'n me! I ain't a goin' to stand fur it! If he so much as puts the p'int of his knife on me I'll vow to——"
"Keep still, you cowardly thief!" said Thad, sternly; and even Waffles seemed influenced by the hidden power in the scoutmaster's tone, for he brokeoff in the middle of a sentence, and finished it by mumbling to himself.
Speaking to the Indian boy Thad went on:
"Run your hand over him again, and hand me any weapon you find. He's in a state where he might lose his head, and get us all into a fight, if we let him go armed."
Willingly the Crow boy did as he was told. The search revealed a big revolver that was apparently the mate of the one Thad had knocked from the hand of Kracker.
"Now get that other fellow's rifle, Allan," continued the patrol leader, who had mapped out his plan of campaign quickly.
He did not trust these men further than he could see them. They were quite unscrupulous; and after having been held up to scorn by this parcel of boys, there was every reason in the world to believe that they would plan a hasty revenge. And the fewer deadly weapons they had in their possession the better the chances would be for peace in that mountain valley.
The rifle in particular Thad wanted to hold back. With it, damage might be done at a much greater distance than with the smaller arms. And knowing that the boys had long distance modern rifles, possibly Kracker and his followers might keep out of range.
Besides, there was that business of Aleck's concerningthe hidden mine; they had promised to stand back of him until he had secured full possession; and that was apt to keep them in the neighborhood for some time, always subjected to annoyance from these anxious ones, who longed to secure the prize that had tantalized their species for so long.
So the rifle, and what ammunition Dickey Bird happened to be carrying in a belt slung over his shoulder, fell into the hands of the boys. They also retained possession of one of the heavy revolvers; not that any one fancied the clumsy weapon in the least; but as Thad said, "to cut the wings of the party as much as possible."
"Let Waffles get up, now, Fox," said Thad, when all these matters had been adjusted, much to the admiration of the other scouts, who thought their leader must be just "IT" when it came to doing things.
The shorter rascal was not slow to gain his feet. He was still boiling over with a sense of insult added to injury, and ready to vent his wrath in offensive words; but Thad cut all this short.
"Listen to me, Waffles," he said, sternly again; "We don't care to hear your opinion of anything. Take a lesson from the colonel here, who knows when silence is golden. You don't hear him swearing around, and threatening to break a blood-vessel in his mad feeling. He's taking it all as cool as a cucumber. He knows when it's a time to laugh,and when it's a time to cry. Now, the sooner you gentlemen give us your room, the better we'll be pleased; and be sure to make it plenty of room, too; because we're all going to be ready to take snapshots at any of you we see, after half an hour has gone by."
Kracker moved his lips, but strange to say not a sound proceeded from them. The man was so completely overpowered by his emotions that for the time being he had actually lost all power of speech. For this Thad was pleased, because he believed that had the big prospector been able to say one half that was bubbling through his mind, they must have been treated to an awful exhibition of hard words.
So the three men turned their backs on their tormentors, and walked away; but it was certainly true that their retreat did not smack in the least of the jaunty and threatening manner of their late advance. They had, as Giraffe crowed jubilantly, "the wind taken from their sails, and just turned around, and went away."
"Wonder if we'll see anything more of 'em again?" remarked Bumpus, who had really carried himself quite handsomely through it all; though most of the time his eyes had seemed to be fairly bulging from his head, and he could be heard saying words over and over to himself to indicate surprise.
"I hope not," remarked Thad; "but it wouldn't surprise me if they bobbed up again later on. Yousee, it's perhaps the biggest stake Kracker ever played for; and for years now this hidden mine has kept dancing before him, beckoning him on. He won't give it up easily, I'm afraid. There, look at him turn, and shake his fat fist at us! That shows how he feels about it. He'd just like to have us tied up right now, so he could lay on the whip, good and hard. But boys, after this, it's for us to keep a good lookout all the time. Such fellows as Kracker and the others wouldn't hesitate at anything, if only they saw a chance to win out."
And at his words Giraffe and his mates nodded their heads; but there was no loud demonstration; for somehow they seemed to realize the gravity of the game they were now playing, with the long lost mine as the stake.
Meanwhile, how fared the ambitious big-horn hunters?
They had started out, filled with a determination to accomplish something, even if it took a couple of days. Indeed, the guide had said to Thad before leaving that none of them need worry if the partyfailed to show up at nightfall. The distances were so great, and the mountain climbing of such a stupendous character, that they might have to put in the better part of several days reaching the feeding grounds of the animals, and getting the coveted chance for a shot or two.
When noon came it found them climbing steadily. They were entirely out of sight of the valley where the camp lay, so that they could have no knowledge of what was happening in that quarter. But so set were the boys on what had taken them forth, that for the time being they felt perfectly satisfied to quite forget other matters.
"Talk about your wild country," remarked Step Hen, when they all came to a little stop to eat a "snack," and rest, so as to be ready for a further climb;"this sure takes the cake for me. Why, that poor little Blue Ridge country ain't in it. You could put it all in a pocket, here, and it wouldn't be missed."
"Well," remarked Smithy, who was bearing up under the strain in a manner that would have pleased the scoutmaster, could he have been along to notice it; "you want to be exceedingly careful how you say that before our hot-blooded Southern chum, Bob White, unless you're ready to get into a war of words."
"Oh! excuse me," chuckled Step Hen, "I wouldn't be guilty of hurting Bob's pride even alittle bit. I know he thinks that Land of the Sky country better than most other places. Well, it takes a lot of different people to make a world, don't it, fellers?"
"That's right, it does," remarked Davy Jones, who had managed to snap off several pictures as they came along; but was trying to save most of his exposures for things that would count, live subjects, in fact.
"How much further do we have to climb, Toby?" asked Smithy, trying to appear rather indifferent about it, though the others just knew he must feel the strain more than any of them; because Smithy had never been much of an athlete, and up to date had yet to play in his first baseball game, strange to say.
"Wall, that depends on a good many things," the guide responded. "Fust place, we don't know as yet jest whar the sheep might be feedin'. I'm headin' for a place whar I seen 'em more'n a few times, when I was prospectin' through this kentry."
"Oh! soyouhad a touch of the lost mine fever, too, did you?" quickly remarked Smithy; for up to the present time Toby had never so much as admitted this fact; but now he grinned and went on:
"Why, yes, I've taken my look, and had jest the same luck as all the rest what thought they could pick it up. But about them big horns, boys; if theydon't happen to be whar I'm headin' fust, then we got to go another two hours. But chances are, we'll find a flock in one of them places, an' git a shot afore nightfall sets in."
With this comforting thought, then, the little party once more started out, after an hour's rest and refreshment. Smithy was doubtless feeling considerably better. He never complained, even while he limped sadly at times; and once came near losing his grip, when swinging across a bad place in the trail; so that he might even have fallen, only that the ready guide threw an arm around him, having been keeping conveniently near.
Smithy was proving one thing, at least; he might never turn out to be much of a hunter; but he surely possessed his father's spirit, when it came to game qualities. And when he went back home, all the maiden aunts in creation would never be able to bring that boy back again to the docile habits that had marked him heretofore, thanks to woman training. Smithy had had a taste of real outdoors, and would never be satisfied again to live in that old "sissy" rut.
It was about an hour after the stop that, without warning, the little party suddenly came upon a monstrous grizzly bear, slowly making his way diagonally across the track they were following.
At sight of them the animal reared up on his hind quarters, and seemed to be trying to make uphis mind whether he ought to attack these queer two-legged creatures, or go on about his own business.
Step Hen half raised his gun to his shoulder; but instantly the guide clapped a hand over the lock. There were no convenient trees in which they could take shelter from an enraged grizzly; and Toby Smathers knew too much about these animals to have any wish to find one rushing at them, wild with rage from a wound.
"Snap—click!"
"Got him that time!" said a delighted voice.
Of course it was Davy Jones. He had swung that kodak of his around, calmly focussed on the grizzly as the animal reared himself up to a terrible height, and then pressed the button.
And perhaps after all that was the safest kind of "shooting," when it came to a matter of grizzly bears. Even one of this ferocious species would hardly offer any serious objections to having his likeness preserved, for future generations to gaze upon.
"Keep still, all on you!" warned the guide, who was holding his own rifle in readiness for instant use, should the bear conclude to charge them. "We ain't lost any Mountain Charleys to-day, as I knows on. Big horns is what we kim out after. Let him take hisself off, if he will, and a good riddance too, I says."
Which the enormous beast finally concluded to do. Perhaps he had had his dinner, and was not feeling in a particularly aggressive mood. No matter what the cause, all of the boys heaved sighs of positive relief when he shuffled away, looking back over his shoulder several times.
"Just like he wanted half an excuse for getting his mad up," explained Step Hen. "He had a chip on his shoulder, all right. And I guess I'm glad you didn't let me start in on him, Toby. I might a missed knockin' him over for keeps; and then what a nice pickle we'd all been in. Excuse me from tacklin' a moving mountain like that, when trees are as scarce as hens' teeth."
"And I'm real glad, too, you didn't fire," admitted Smithy, who had turned somewhat white during the minute of dreadful suspense, while he stared at that monster squatted in their path. "I was ready to back you up; but then what could you expect from a greenhorn? I never wished so much that I'd taken to this sort of thing before, as I did when that fearful beast was looking at me, just as if to say, 'you're the tenderest of the lot, Smithy, and I think I'll choose you, if I have room for any more inside me.'"
The other boys laughed at his words; but on the whole they thought Smithy had carried himself rather creditably, all things considered. And each knew, deep down in his secret soul, that his ownheart had seemed to stand still; while his blood ran cold, as he stood there, awaiting the decision of the bear.
They glanced around rather fearfully for some little time after that; but as nothing was seen again of the mountain terror, they finally concluded that the incident was closed.
Again their thoughts went out toward the singular game they had come after. Many an ambitious hunter had sought to shoot a big-horn sheep in the Rockies, day after day, and was compelled to give it up in the end as useless, so Toby had informed them. The conditions were generally very difficult, and the game so shy. Besides, their sense of impending danger seemed to be abnormally developed; and on account of the rocky formation of the slopes where they found bunches of grass in the crevices, it was often next to impossible to stalk them from leeward.
This being the case the tired boys were thrilled to the core when Toby finally announced that he had had a glimpse of the game. Of course they became wildly excited, and demanded that he show them. Creeping carefully up to a certain outcropping rock, they peered around its edge. And for the first time in their lives Davy, Step Hen and Smithy found themselves looking upon the queer animals that seem to live in the wildest parts of the Rockies, taking delight in bounding from cragto crag, and baffling the skill of the most experienced chamois hunters to get within gun-shot of their lofty eyries.
There were seven or eight of the sheep, and as they were really just within gun range the boys could get a splendid view of them. They admired the tremendous curved horns greatly, and Step Hen quivered with eagerness to say that he had shot a Rocky Mountain sheep all by himself; while Davy clicked his camera several times, so that he at least might have a picture, in case they could get no nearer.
"I can't be sure of even hitting one from here," whispered Step Hen, turning appealingly to the guide. "Ain't it possible to creep up closer, Toby? Oh! please fix it for us, won't you?" just as though the guide had it in his power to do anything they wanted.
But fortunately the lay of the mountain allowed Toby to arrange it; and he soon mapped out a route that they might crawl along, keeping well hidden from the feeding sheep, and getting gradually closer.
Besides, it happened that luck was working overtime in their favor; because the animals happened to be feeding toward them. Now only two or three could be seen, nibbling at the tufts of grass, or leaping across some small fissure that tried to block them from other tempting pastures; and then againthe whole seven would be in sight at the same moment.
After advancing slowly and carefully for some time Toby made motions that they dare not go any further. He also let them know by signs that, as the sheep were still coming in a line toward them, all they had to do was to lie quiet, and wait until the right moment.
That was a period of great excitement to the scouts, two of them clutching their guns in hands that would tremble in spite of them; while the third was trying to find the best spot to hold his kodak, with a view of snapping off a picture just before the critical second came for shooting.
Step Hen and Smithy had even gone so far as to select which of the seven sheep they hoped to get; and as they lay there, peeping out from their rocky shelter, it can be taken for granted that each of them had eyes for his particular quarry only.
And then finally Toby touched the shoulder of the kodak owner, as a signal that he had better be getting to work.
Davy Jones had made all his arrangements. He had only to press the button, when the slight "click" told that his picture was an accomplished fact, and that if the hunters did as well, the expedition might be set down as a glorious success.
Davy had carried his shotgun fastened to his back with a strap, while he worked his little camera. Now he reached out for the gun, although realizing the folly of trying to do any execution at that distance with buckshot cartridges.
"Now!" said the guide, suddenly.
It would seem as though he spoke aloud purposely, knowing what the effect was apt to be. Every feeding big-horn raised its head instantly, and for the space of several seconds stood there as though carved out of stone.
A better chance for a shot could not be imagined.
"Bang!"
"Whang!"
That was Smithy firing first, and the second report told that Step Hen's little thirty-thirty was on the job instantly.
One big-horn sheep fell over on the rock, andkicked several times. It might have fallen over the ledge only that somehow the body seemed to become fast in a crotch; and there it lay in a tantalizing position, for only by a most difficult climb downward could it be reached at all.
"Oh! I hit mine, and he's fallen down there!" cried Smithy in a voice that just thrilled with wild exultation; and hardly had he said this than he added, in a deeply crushed tone: "Oh! wasn't that too cruel of him now, to just bound off on his horns like they were skies, and get on his feet again? There he goes now, and see him limp, will you, fellows? I hit him, yes, I surely did!"
"Well, he's gone, and that's the last you're likely to see of him, more's the pity," said Step Hen; "but look atmygame, would you, stuck there in among them rocks? Toby, we must manage to get him, some way or other. Tell me how it can be done, won't you?"
The guide scratched his head, as if himself a bit puzzled.
"Only one way I kin see, boys," he observed, "and that means a lot more climbing for us."
"You mean we'll just have to work around, and get up there above the place wheremybig-horn lies, as dead as a door nail; is that it, Toby?" questioned Step Hen, perhaps unconsciously placing great emphasis on that pronoun; nor could he be blamed for feeling proud, if half that the guide had toldthem concerning the difficulties encountered by hunters of Rocky Mountain sheep were true.
"Just what I had in mind," replied Toby.
"Then let's make a start," urged Step Hen. "My stars! I wouldn't like to lose that splendid fellow for anything. Just think of having that pair of horns to put in our club room at home, Davy. I hope you got a good picture, too; because we c'n have an enlargement taken, and hang it undermyhorns."
"I don't see any growing out of your head, yet, Step Hen," chuckled Davy, as he and the third scout fell in behind the others, and started forth.
One thing made it a little easier now; they did not have to be so particular about moving softly, since their aim had been accomplished, and they had shot their bolt.
But the way was rough enough at the best. Smithy had a hard time of it. He was forever bruising his hands, for they were not so tough in the palms as those of the other boys, who had been accustomed to work and hard play. Besides, often he took a little slide and in this fashion tore his trousers as well as made quite a gash in his leg. But the other boys rather fancied that Smithy, unable to wholly overcome his former love for fine clothes, grieved more on account of that big rent in his khaki trousers, than he did for the bleeding leg, though it must have pained him considerably.
Still, he did not murmur; Smithy was showing much more grit than either of the others had ever dreamed he possessed. Like Bumpus, it only seemed to need a fitting opportunity to come to the surface; as is the case with many backward boys.
As they turned an angle of the rocks, Step Hen gave a shout.
"What's this? What's this?" he called.
"Oh! please don't shoot!" shrilled Smithy, wonderfully excited again; "It must be the sheep I struck with my bullet; see how the poor thing drags that leg after him? Let me have the pleasure of knocking him over, and putting him out of pain?"
"Get busy then, or he'll give you the slip after all. Quick, Smithy, or I'll be tempted to shoot him myself. Whoop! you did it that time, Smithy! Good boy!" and Step Hen fairly danced in his excitement.
Smithy had made good. How he did it, he never could tell; but somehow, when he just pointed his gun in a general way toward the escaping big-horn, and pulled the trigger, why, the already badly wounded animal fell over, gave a couple of last kicks, and then lay still.
But strange to say, Smithy was less given to excitement over his exploit than either of the other boys. As they all bent over the big-horn to admire his sturdy frame, and the head ornaments that distinguishhim among all his kind, Smithy was seen to stroke the hairy back of the dead sheep, and clinch his teeth hard together, as though after all he felt half sorry that a sudden whim had caused him to actually take a life that nothing could restore. Evidently it would be some time before Smithy could so far overcome his former gentle traits of character to feel the hunter's fierce lust for his quarry.
"But this ain't gettingmybig-horn, you know," remarked Step Hen, as though the feel of those massive curved head-pieces had thrown him into a new fever of impatience to secure his own trophies; for it would be a shame if the greenhorn of the party should be the only one to exhibit positive evidences of their having shot game.
"Come along then, and we'll soon git around to whar p'raps ye might climb down, if so be ye're keerful not to slip," and the guide once more started off.
"Oh! do we abandon my big-horn, then?" cried Smithy, as though half tempted to refuse to leave the spot on what might prove to be a wild-goose chase; to him it seemed like leaving the substance to try and catch the shadow.
"We kin come back this way, and take keer of it then," said Toby; and with this assurance Smithy had to rest content.
After some further scrambling along the face ofthe steep slope, digging their toes into the shale that often crumbled under them, when they might risk a serious ride down the side of the mountain only for the fact that they managed to cling fast with their hands, they reached a point where it was extra rocky, and a pretty sheer descent.
"Down thar your sheep lies," the guide said, pointing as he spoke.
Step Hen immediately laid his gun aside, and crawling to the edge he looked over.
"I don't see hide or hair of it, though, Toby?" he complained.
"No more you kin," returned the other, with decision marked in both voice and manner; "but all the same it's down thar, not more'n a hundred feet at most. I got my bearin's fine. Look off yonder, and yell see whar we lay when ye did the shootin' at the big horns."
"He's right, Step Hen," said Davy Jones, after looking to where the guide was pointing so confidently. "I'd know that rock among a thousand. I'll never forget it, either. And yes, your sheep must be lying below us right now."
"I think the same, fellows," asserted Smithy, who was beginning to feel that he ought to give his opinion of things after this, since he was now an actualboni fidehunter, and had even secured one of the most wary of all wild animals in the whole West.
"But why don't I see it, then?" demanded Step Hen, always very stubborn, and needing to be shown.
"Ye see," the guide explained, "the face of the mountain backs in some, in a general way. That tells the story. The only thing that bothers me is, if I had ought to let ye try and get down thar, so's to shove the sheep off, and land it at the bottom; or make the riffle myself."
"Oh! I wouldn't think of letting you try it," declared Step Hen, quickly. "I'm young and spry, and used to climbing up cliffs and such stunts, besides," he added as a clincher, "it'smybig horn, you know."
Had either of the other boys backed him up, the chances were that Toby Smathers might have refused to give his permission; for he knew that there would naturally be considerable risk involved in such an undertaking; but then both Davy and his comrade, Smithy, saw nothing sovery unusual in the proceeding, the one because he was not accustomed to judging such things; and Davy on account of being such a clever gymnast himself, always doing dangerous tricks, such as hanging from a high limb of a tree by his toes, coming down the outside of a tree by using the branches as a descending ladder, and all such "crazy antics," as Giraffe called them.
"Here, somebody hold my gun," said Step Hen, with an air of resolution.
"You're going to be some keerful, I take it?" questioned the guide, dubiously.
"Course I am; what d'ye take me for, Toby? Think I want to go to my own funeral in a hurry? Not much. Oh! I c'n be careful, all right. Don't you worry about me. And I want that big-horn worse than ever, I do. Here goes, then."
He started down the face of the almost perpendicular precipice. There were plenty of places where he could get a good foothold, and secure a grip with his ready hands. The only danger seemed to be, as the guide had warned him, in having some apparently secure rock suddenly give way under his weight. He must watch out for that constantly, and never take a fresh step unless he was sure he could maintain his hold upon the last knob of rock.
"Call out if we can help any, Step Hen," was what Davy said, as they saw the last of their companion's head just about to vanish, where the first inward dip to the precipice occurred.
"Sure I will, and just you remember our signal code, Davy. I may have to use it if I get caught tight in a crack, and can't break away nohow. Good-bye, be good to yourselves, now, and don't go to believin' that there's any chance of me losing my grip."
Then he vanished from their sight. A dreadful clatter of falling stones gave the two scouts still above a case of the "trembles" immediately afterwards, and Davy called at the top of his voice:
"I say, Step Hen!"
"All right;" welled up from somewhere below them; "did that on purpose to test a stepping place. Ketch a weasel asleep, before you get me to stand on a loose place, why, it's as easy as fallin' off a log, this is."
But although Step Hen spoke so flippantly, he was far from being as confident as he pretended. In fact, as he proceeded downward, he found his task getting more and more difficult.
One thing that bothered him was the getting up again. He just felt sure that he would not be able to accomplish it; but then, if it came to the worst, doubtless the balance of the descent was no harder to manage than this; and after first sending his big-horn down, he might pick his own way after it, and the others could follow as best they saw fit.
Step Hen was a self-reliant boy, at any rate;sometimes the scoutmaster feared too much so. And since he had said he was going to get that game, and was already part way down the face of the rocky wall, there was nothing to be done but keep right along, which he proceeded to do.
He could not get the slightest glimpse of his comrades. They were somewhere up above him; but just as the guide had declared, the face of the wall fell away in places, and this kept taking him further beyond their range of vision constantly.
Whenever he could do so without imperiling his support, Step Hen would crook his neck, and look downward, in the hope of seeing where the sheep lay. He could not help thinking how much easier this effort would come for him, if a kindly Nature had given him the extensive neck that Giraffe possessed.
"There it is!" he exclaimed, joyfully, as his anxious eyes fell upon an object just a short distance below, and which he knew must be the crumpled body of his big-horn. "And I ought to get there now without breaking my neck. Wow! that was a near tumble, all right! Careful, boy, careful now! Them horns of yours ain't growed big enough to drop on, like the sheep do."
He halted for a full minute, not that he was so tired in the arms, but to recover from the shock received when he came so near falling. Then once more resuming his labor, he presently had the satisfactionof dropping beside the motionless body of his victim.
"Bigger horns than Smithy's had!" was his first exclamation, as he bent over, the better to see; and at the same moment he became conscious of the fact that some buzzards, or some other big birds, were swooping around close by, making him think they had looked on his dead sheep as their next dinner.
"Guess p'raps I'd better be tossing it over here, and letting it roll down to the bottom; then I c'n foller the best way there is, and——"
Something gave him a sudden fierce blow that knocked Step Hen down on his hands and knees; and he might have rolled over the edge of the narrow shelf, only for his good luck in catching hold of the sheep's rounded horns.
"Quit that, you silly! you nearly knocked me over that time!" he shouted angrily; his very first thought being that one of the other boys, presumably Davy Jones, because he was so smart about climbing everywhere, had followed after him, and was thus rudely announcing his arrival close on the heels of the first explorer.
But as Step Hen raised his head to look, to his surprise he failed to see any one near him. A dreadful suspicion that Davy might have pitched over the edge of the narrow shelf, after striking him, assailed the scout; and he was almost on thepoint of looking, when suddenly there was a rush of great wings, and he dropped flat on his face just in time to avoid being struck a second time.
"Whew! eagles, and mad as hops at me for comin' here!" gasped Step Hen, as, raising his head cautiously, like a turtle peeping out of its shell, he caught sight of two wheeling birds that came and went with tremendous speed.
He noted the spread of their immense wings, and it seemed to Step Hen as if in all his experience he had never before gazed upon more powerful birds than those two Rocky Mountain eagles.
Perhaps they had a nest near by, with young eaglets in it, and fancied that he was bent on robbing them. Then again, the big birds may have decided that they could make good use of the fine quarry that had lodged in the rocks so conveniently near their nest; and resented the coming of another claimant.
But no matter what the contributing cause might be, they were undoubtedly as "mad as a wet hen," as Step Hen afterwards declared, in telling of his adventure there on that shelf of rock, fully a hundred feet from the top and the bottom, on the steep face of the mountain.
His first thought was how he could fight back, for he saw that he was to be at the mercy of the great birds that swooped down again and again, striking viciously at him with claws, beaks andpowerful wings, until the boy was bleeding in half a dozen different places.
In casting his eyes about, even as he fought with his bare hands, and shouted for assistance at the top of his voice, Step Hen made a little discovery. A tree must have grown up above at one time or other, for there, stuck fast in a crevice of the rock he saw a pretty good-sized remnant of a branch that he believed would make a fair cudgel, better than his bare hands at any rate, with which to strike at the attacking eagles.
When he had clutched this in his eager hand the boy felt more confidence; and watching his opportunity he did manage to meet the swoop of the next bird with a whack that sent it whirling back. But they quickly learned to adopt other tactics, now that he was armed, both of them coming together from opposite directions; so that unable to dodge, or hit back properly Step Hen again found himself getting the worst of the fight.
Would his companions be able to do anything for him; or was he to be left there on that shelf of rock, to either conquer his savage enemies, alone and unaided, or succumb to their ferocious assaults?
All the while he was beating at them with might and main Step Hen kept up a constant shouting. He had a double purpose in this,—hoping to tempt one of his companions to descend to his rescue, carrying a gun, since they seemed unable to hit thebirds from above, though several shots had been fired; and then again it was possible that the sound of a human voice would by degrees cause the eagles to haul off.
"Take that, will you!" the boy cried, whenever he succeeded in reaching either of his feathered assailants with his club. "Come at me again, will you? Just wait, and see what happens to you yet! Ouch! that hurt some, now! Oh! if I could only swing this club around better, without bein' afraid of tumbling over, wouldn't I knock their heads off,—wow! once more you'll have it, will you? See the feathers fly! I b'lieve they're weakenin' some, sure I do; but what about me? I'll bleed to death yet, if they keep on tapping me like that."
So Step Hen went on, shouting and whacking away, doing the best he was able under the circumstances. Nobody could ever say at any rate, but what he put up a strapping good fight of it, he kept thinking; but all the same he cast an anxious eye upward whenever he could find a chance, hoping to see a pair of human legs heave in sight, and discover the welcome face of either Davy Jones or the guide.
"Bring a gun! Bring a gun!"
That was about the burden of his shouts. He hoped those above understood what he was saying. The eagles seldom went far outside a given circle, so that they could only be glimpsed from aboveoccasionally; and it was like shooting at a disappearing target in the gallery, to try and hit them under such circumstances.
Step Hen had knocked one of the great birds down for the sixth time, and was dismayed to see that he had not even then disabled it, since it immediately started to fly again, no wing having been broken by his club; when he thought he caught the sound of a human voice close by.
Then some loose stones rattled down beside him, giving him a thrill of joy; for he knew now reinforcements were on the way, and it nerved him to fight on.
Another minute, and some one dropped down beside the crouching Step Hen, who was breathing hard from his exertions, but still full of pluck, as a true scout should always be.
"Toby!" he called out, in a quavering voice, and looking very grim, with his face so scratched, and streaked with blood; "I'm sure glad to see you; but gladder to notice that you've got your gun! Look out! there they come again! Dodge, Toby, dodge; they're on to you!"
But the guide had snatched his gun from about his back, where it had been securely fastened with a stout cord. He had no time to aim or fire just then, only to swing the barrel around, and strike viciously at the swooping bird, that threw its clawsforward as it pounced upon him, just as a fish-hawk might do on striking the water.
The attack was quickly parried, and now Toby also had a streak of blood on his cheek, where one of those furious wings had struck him.
Now he turned the gun quickly around in his hands.
"Leave one for me, Toby!" pleaded the boy, eagerly. "I ought to have the pleasure of knocking over one of 'em, after what they have done to me. Oh! you put it to that gay old robber of honest fish-hawks, sure you did! And he's gone down below-decks for good. Give me your gun, Toby; Imusthave it, I tell you!"
And the guide, understanding, as well as sympathizing with, the spirit that caused the other to cry out in this fashion, did thrust his repeating rifle into the hands of Step Hen, after throwing the discharged shell out, and sending a fresh one into the firing chamber.
With a satisfaction that words could never paint, Step Hen followed the swinging form of the remaining eagle as it flew around so as to get in line for another swoop. And just as the great bird started to come down at them, the boy pulled the trigger.
His aim was true, and the second eagle pitched forward, whirling over and over as it went tumblingdown the face of the descent, just as its mate had done.
"Hurrah!" shouted Step Hen, tremendously pleased with the final outcome of the fight with the pair of fierce pirates of the upper air currents; "that's what they get for tackling me, ain't it, Toby? We gave 'em what they needed, didn't we? But say, I'm just thinkin' that it's going to be a tough old job for me to get back up where the boys are; and that p'raps we'll have to keep on climbin' down, after shoving the big-horn off the shelf."
And the guide, after recovering his breath, which had been used up in his recent hasty movements in coming to the rescue, looking over the edge, admitted that he believed such a course was the only one left to them.