CHAPTER XVIIIThe Circling Buzzards
Jack seemed nothing loth to carry out his chum’s suggestion. Truth to tell he himself felt considerably “cramped” in the lower part of his anatomy—any one who has been compelled to camp amidst the branches of a tree for a period of successive hours, knows the experience is anything but a pleasant one.
So they slipped down, and once more stood on solid ground, with Perk casting suspicious looks in the quarter where last they had glimpsed the fleeing grizzly, with jets of mingled smoke and fire spitting this way and that.
“Huh! here’s hopin’ he’s went for good,” he was saying, meaningly. “Let’s get a move on, partner, an’ vacate these premises pronto—smells too rank fur me jest naow—burnt hair allersdidget my goat, ever since that barber coaxed me to have my crop singed—said as haow it’d grow out agin a heap faster if the split ends they was scotched away; but for a whole week afterwards folks used to look at me funny like, an’ move further away. Huh!”
“No hurry at all, buddy,” Jack told him; “that live wire isn’t going to come back this way in a hurry, you can depend on that. Let’s take a look, and make sure nothing has been dropped from our packs, or pockets. On the whole we’ve got a heap to congratulate ourselves on, coming out of such a scrape as well as we did—thanks to that bright thought of yours.”
“Gee! it’s real nice o’ yeou to say that, Jack, ole bean; I’m not sorry we had sech a queer experience; on’y I do begrudge him that real stuff, which is gone for keeps—it wasn’t moonshine, or bootleg either, boy; but worth it’s weight in solid silver—the man says as sold it to me.”
“Well, it did come in handy, for a fact, Perk, and we mustn’t grieve over using it. Just try to imagine one of usdidget struck by the fangs of a rattler, and the stuff saved a human life—in this case maybe two. Cheer up—plenty more where that came from, if only you’ve got the coin.”
“Right yeou are, brother,” Perk thereupon hastened to say, as he adjusted his pack to conform with the angles of his body. “On’y I got to be doubly keerful from neow on bout runnin’ smack up again a pizenous viper, since it’d be jest too bad to get struck, an’ no cure handy.”
When Perk had anything bothering him he was in the habit of keeping his “misery” constantly on tap; but then Jack was used to such little eccentricities on the part of his bosom chum—Perk’s good qualities more than compensated for his poor ones, a fact which those who knew him realized.
They started on, following the devious windings of the former watercourse, where ages back there must have been terrible floods rush down toward the lowland, after every cloudburst at the top of the mountains. Many years must have passed since those happenings ceased, for the trees and heavy undergrowth rooted in cracks of the mighty rocks told this story of change.
“I sure do hope we doant run into any other kind o’ wild critter, while makin’ this grand sneak,” Perk was telling himself, as he kept close behind his leader, picking his steps as daintily as any high born lady—since that was his method of keeping watch for suspicious moving objects on the ground, such as might turn out to be reptiles waiting to puncture his ankles. “If I was totin’ my Winchester along, an’ met up with a snarlin’ mounting lion, I’d think it a bit o’ luck; but when yeour hands are tied, so yeou dassent shoot a gun, things look kinder different, that’s right, an’ not so good.”
Whenever Jack paused for a brief stop, and stared back, Perk dutifully copied his action, trying to impress certain local features of the landscape upon his memory.
They had by this time come a considerable distance away from the spot where the airship had been abandoned, partly screened by the overhanging branches of several trees, and also a partial blanket of evergreens, small ones they had been able to tear up, and use with rare judgment.
Part of the time it was possible for them to raise their eyes and see the clear blue sky in places. Once Perk discovered a moving object pass before his vision, which he speedily made out to be a buzzard. A second followed close behind, and then numerous other of the carrion eaters, all swinging in the same direction after the manner of their clan.
As his eyes followed the circle of soaring birds Perk had an unpleasant thought strike in that gave him a chill around the region of his heart.
“Hot-diggetty-dig! I wonder neow could it be them gluttonus birds they been pickin’ the bones o’ thet poor Simeon what disappeared ’raound this section o’ kentry? Jack hinted like he kinder guessed the plug uglies had knocked him on the head, an’ tossed his body over some big precipice. Gee whiz! it shore does gimme a bad feelin’ to think thataways, ’specially since chances air we might be headin’ straight along that same road aourselves.”
After that there seemed to be some sort of a horrible fascination about the wheeling line of feathered scavengers, so that at every opportunity, when an opening presented itself, Perk just stared, and stared, frequently stumbling awkwardly over an unnoticed object, and almost losing his balance.
Jack noticed this fact presently, and felt called upon to warn the other.
“Keep your eyes more on the ground, partner, and do less sky gazing,” he told Perk in a low but distinct tone. “A tumble might give you a bad hurt; and besides, we can’t afford to make any sort of racket, you know. Never mind those rotten buzzards—what dowecare about their carrying-on.”
Perk suspected that Jack had himself guessed what ailed him, from the way he connected the sailing of the uncanny crew with his companion’s erratic actions. At any rate it rather abashed Perk to realize his weakness could be so readily observed; so he braced himself up, and tried to give a low laugh.
“That’s okay, Jack; I’ll be a heap more keerful. We got to do this grand creep as slick as grease, with them pesky kiotes keepin’ their ears to the ground for s’picious noises.”
As the subject of Simeon’s possible raw deal had fastened itself on his mind, Perk continued to speculate regarding the personality of the missing Secret Service agent. The subject grew more interesting the further he went, and in the end he even asked Jack a question that was bothering him.
“Yeou says as haow yeou knowed this guy Simeon some, didn’t yeou, partner?”
“I only met him a few times about a year back while in Washington; but at that took quite a shine to him,” Jack explained, as Perk nudged up against him, both having stopped to rest after negotiating an extra difficult stretch on their climb.
“He must a been a fair good chap then, I guess, partner, eh, what?”
“I liked him,” Jack added, concisely; “and they thought well of him in the Big Chief’s offices.”
“Any fambly as yeou heard of?” Perk further wished to know.
“He told me he was a widower—I thought he must be up against some sort of mind trouble—it just impressed me that way, though he never let out a word of his personal affairs; but I never saw him smile, even when others in the party were cracking jokes, and laughing their loudest.”
“Huh! too bad sech a fine guy should a been sent out on a tough job like this one,” was all that Perk remarked, half under his breath, as though what Jack had told satisfied his curiosity, and further increased his respect for the brave brother officer whom he knew only by report.
These things were bound to crop up in his mind from time to time, and give him reason for further thought; for whatever the sad fate of Simeon might be it seemed to have some connection with their own fortunes.
Then Perk’s roving fancy came back again to the adventure through which they had so recently passed, with such wonderful success. Figuratively he patted himself on the back, because it had been wholly his conceit, that of setting their grim four-footed jailor on fire, and causing the beast to break the siege in hot haste.
“Huh! not so bad—fur me,” Perk told himself, with one of his queer chuckles. “Ole Perk he kin wake things up once in a coon’s age, if he sets his mind on doin’ the same. Kinder guess it’d pay me to sorter cultivate that streak o’ ingenuity—mebbe I’m movin’ along to be some sorter inventor like Tom Edison—yeou never kin tell ’til the time comes. ’Twouldn’t be so funny after all, come to think o’ it—my ole man had a gift thataway, even if he never did set the State o’ Maine on fire. Huh! if things keep on amovin’ like this, little ole Perk mebbe’ll amount to some punkins after all!”