Kitabı oku: «Jack Ranger's Gun Club: or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail», sayfa 10
CHAPTER XXV
SOME PECULIAR MARKS
“Shoot! Shoot!” cried Will Williams, who had remained to one side. “Shoot him again, Jack!”
“I can’t! I may hit Sam or Nat!”
Jack did not know what to do. He and Will had to stand there and watch their chums rolling and slipping down the mountain-side, with the bear, in its death struggle, slowly gaining on them.
Suddenly the beast struck a large boulder, bounded up into the air, and came down nearly on top of the two lads. Jack’s heart almost stopped beating, and Will turned his head aside. Bear and boys seemed to be in one indistinguishable heap.
“They’ll be killed!” cried Will.
Jack started down the hill on the run. He had not taken a dozen steps, his gaze all the while fixed on that heap, which had now reached a little ledge, where it came to a stop, when he saw Sam and Nat slowly extricate themselves.
“They’re alive, anyway,” he murmured.
He heard Will following after him, but did not look back. He wanted to see what the bear would do. Sam and Nat appeared bewildered, but Jack noticed that they moved away from bruin. The brute was quiet.
“I wonder if I killed him?” thought Jack. Then he called out: “Is he dead?”
“As a door-nail,” replied Sam.
“Are you hurt?” sung out Will.
“Only bruised some,” answered Sam, rubbing several places on his body.
By this time Jack had reached his chums. Their clothing was disheveled, and their hands and faces were covered with dirt, but the bear had not harmed them.
“I thought it was all up with you,” said Jack with relief in his voice.
“So did I,” admitted Nat. “But I guess that bear was dead when he started to roll. It was when it hit us, anyway, for it never made a move. It rolled right on top of us, and Sam yelled – ”
“So did you,” spoke Sam quickly. “You were just as frightened as I was.”
“I guess that’s right,” admitted Nat. “But you got your bear, all right, Jack.”
They looked at the dead animal. It was a large grizzly.
“Another trophy for the gun club,” remarked Sam. “Say, we’re doing all right for amateurs. Jack’s new organization is a success.”
“It’s all to the bear steaks!” exclaimed Nat with a grin, as he gently caressed his elbow, where the skin was rubbed off.
“How are we going to get this back to camp?” asked Will.
“Oh, I guess we can pile it on the horses,” said Nat.
“Not until it’s cut up,” remarked Jack. “Did you ever try to lift a dead bear?”
None of them had, and when they tried to raise the lifeless bruin they found it beyond their strength. They had keen hunting knives with them, however, and soon had the bear skinned and the choicest portions cut off. Jack took the skin, intending to have a rug made of it. Then the horses were brought up, and the meat tied on the backs of the saddles. Satisfied with their day’s hunt thus far, the boys headed for camp, Will getting a shot at a fine ram on the way back, but missing it, much to his regret.
“Better luck next time,” consoled Jack.
Long Gun and Budge had a fine supper ready for the young hunters, and never was a meal better enjoyed. Then, as it grew dark, they all sat about the camp fire, listening to the story of killing the bear.
“Oh, this is the kind of life to lead,” said Nat with a sigh. “It’s simply perfect.”
“And to think that we’ll soon have to go back to Washington Hall,” put in Bony.
“I know where Jack would rather be than here,” said Sam with a grin barely visible in the flickering light of the camp fire.
“Where?” asked Nat.
“Over at Pryor’s Gap, where a certain girl with brown eyes – ”
Plunk!
A wad of dried leaves took Sam squarely in the face.
“You dry up!” commanded Jack as he looked around for another missile.
“Oh, of course; but I thought you’d like to be reminded of her,” went on Sam.
“I guess he can think of her without you reminding him,” added Nat.
“I’m going to turn in,” announced Jack suddenly, and the laughs of his chums did not seem to disconcert him. They all retired a few minutes later and slept soundly.
“Well, what’s the program to-day?” asked Sam as they stepped from the tent the next morning into the cold, crisp air. “Hello,” he added, “it’s been snowing again.”
“Plenty good for track sheep,” announced Long Gun.
“Oh, we don’t need any fresh meat. What’s the use of going hunting again?” asked Jack.
“What will we do, then – go fishing?” demanded Nat.
“I have an idea that it would be fun to take a trip back over the mountain,” went on Jack. “We’ve never been in that direction.”
“It’s quite a climb,” said Bony as he looked up the immense hill, at the foot of which they were camped.
“I know it, but Long Gun says there’s a good trail, and we can go on our horses and take it easy. What do you say?”
“I say let’s go,” put in Will. “I heard there was some sort of a camp over there, and maybe I could get a trace of my uncle.”
“Then we’ll go,” decided Jack. “What sort of a camp is it?”
“I don’t know exactly. I met a man during my wanderings who told me he had been delivering supplies at a camp over on the eastern slope of Rattlesnake Mountain. This is Rattlesnake Mountain, isn’t it?”
“That’s the name it goes by,” said Jack. “But what sort of supplies did he take?”
“That’s the queer part of it. He couldn’t tell. They were in boxes, and he was never allowed to go very close to the camp. He always had to halt quite a way off, leave his stuff and drive away.”
“That’s queer,” commented Jack. “I wonder if that can have anything to do with – ”
Then he stopped suddenly, without finishing his sentence.
“Well, with what?” asked Bony.
“Never mind,” replied Jack as he began oiling his gun. “Let’s get ready to go over the top of the mountain.”
They found it a hard climb, but they took it by degrees and did not hurry the horses, who were used to mountain trails. They reached the summit at noon, and after a rest and lunch, they started down the slope.
The newly-fallen snow made a white mantle over the earth, and it was undisturbed by any marks until they came along.
“No signs of game,” said Jack, “but I guess we don’t need any. Long Gun and Budge will be able to get up a good supper with what’s in camp,” for the Indian and the gum-chewing lad had remained behind.
They traveled on for a few miles farther, admiring the view of a much more wild and desolate country than was visible on the side of the mountain where they were staying.
“Well, I guess we’d better turn back,” called Sam as he noted that the sun was getting low in the sky.
“No; let’s ride down to that little level spot and look over,” proposed Jack. “Then we’ll come back.”
They were not long in reaching the place. Nat, who had urged his horse ahead, was the first to get to it. Suddenly he pulled his animal back and uttered a cry.
“What is it?” called Jack.
“Some peculiar tracks,” replied Nat. “Look here!”
They all rode up. There in the snow were many strange marks. The white crystals were scattered, and in some places the ground was swept bare. In other spots there were many footprints.
“See!” cried Jack. “The man with the arrow made in hobnails on the soles of his shoes has been here!”
He pointed to the impressions.
“Yes, and there’s been a fight or a struggle here,” added Sam. And, indeed, it did seem so, for in some places the ground was torn up, the dirt being scattered over the snow.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE SPRING TRAP
For several moments the boys gazed in silence at the strange marks they had come across. Then Jack said:
“Well, fellows, we seem to be up against some more of that mystery.”
“Why?” asked Bony. “Do you think this has anything to do with the other?”
“I do.”
“You mean the strange sound we heard at night?” asked Will.
“That’s it,” went on Jack. “I think we are on the track of something queer.”
“And do you intend to look further?” was Nat’s query.
“Well, not to-day,” answered Jack. “But I will sooner or later. I believe something happened here which has to do with that queer disturbance we have heard several times. What it is I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
“Say, I have an idea,” came from Bony.
“Don’t let it get away from you,” advised Nat.
“No, I’m serious,” went on the lanky youth. “I think these men have some strange beast or bird in captivity, and that it gets away from them at times. Maybe that’s what happened here, and they had to fight to capture it again.”
“That’s nonsense!” exclaimed Sam.
“Not so nonsensical, either,” Jack hastened to say. “If it was an immense bird, like a big eagle, it would account for the noises we heard – at least, some of them.”
“But there is no eagle large enough for men to ride on its back,” objected Nat.
“How do you know men were on its back?”
“Didn’t we hear them call and speak about our camp fire? How could they see it unless they were up high in the air, on the back of some big bird?”
“They might have been on some point of the mountain above us,” said Bony. “They could have the eagle, or whatever it was, tied by a cord.”
“Yes,” admitted Nat; “but I don’t believe it’s a bird.”
“Me either,” came from Sam. “But what is it?”
“Let’s look at the marks a little more carefully,” proposed Jack.
“Several men have been here, struggling with the – the – er – whatever it was,” spoke Will. “See the different footprints.”
That much was evident. In addition to the man with the mark on his shoes of the arrow in hobnails, there were tracks of several other individuals.
“And if this isn’t the mark of a big bird’s wing, I’ll eat a pair of snowshoes!” exclaimed Nat suddenly. “Look here, fellows!”
They hurried to where he was. There in the snow was the unmistakable print of what seemed to be a wing of a great creature of the air.
“And here’s another wing,” added Sam a little later as he walked slowly over the level place. “But they’re some distance apart.”
“I should say so,” agreed Jack. “Sixty feet, if they’re an inch.”
“But the marks are those of two wings, and they were made at the same time,” went on Sam. “Look, you can see where the body comes between the wings. The bird was over on its back. That happened when they tried to secure it.”
“But sixty feet,” objected Nat. “There’s no bird living with a spread of wings like that. It’s out of the question.”
“Here’s the evidence,” spoke Sam obstinately. “You can see for yourself.”
“Sixty feet spread,” murmured Jack. “It doesn’t seem possible.”
But there was no doubt but that the marks in the snow were those of wings, and, as Jack paced the distance from tip to tip, they proved to be over sixty feet apart.
“Maybe the men have discovered some prehistoric monster,” suggested Will, “and are trying to subdue it so they can exhibit it. There used to be monsters as large as the marks left by this thing, whatever it is.”
“Yes,” admitted Jack; “but they disappeared from the earth ages ago. Only their fossil remains are to be found now.”
“But might one not be alive, by chance, in some big mountain cave?” asked Nat.
“I don’t know,” spoke Jack with a worried look. “It has me puzzled, fellows. I don’t know what to think.”
“Let’s go back to camp, tell Long Gun about it, and bring him here to-morrow to see it,” suggested Sam.
“Long Gun would never come,” said Jack. “He’s too much afraid of bad spirits. No, boys, we’ll have to solve this ourselves, if it’s to be solved at all.”
The boys walked around the little level place, whereon there was the mute evidence of some terrific struggle.
“The queer part of it is,” said Sam, “that the footsteps of the men don’t seem to go anywhere, nor come from anywhere. Look, they begin here, and they end over there, as if they had dropped down from the clouds and had gone up again on the back of the big bird.”
Jack looked more thoughtful. As Sam had said, there were no marks of the men coming or going, and they could not have reached the level place, nor departed from it, without leaving some marks in the tell-tale snow.
“I give it up!” exclaimed Jack. “Let’s get back to camp. It’s getting late.”
They started, talking of nothing on the way but the mystery, and becoming more and more tangled the more they discussed it.
It was getting dusk when they came in sight of the camp fire, and they saw Budge and the Indian busy at something to one side of the blaze.
“I wonder what they’re up to now?” said Jack.
“Oh, probably Budge is teaching Long Gun how to chew gum,” was Nat’s opinion.
A moment later something happened. Budge seemed to shoot through the air, as if blown up in an explosion. He shot over the top of a small tree, and coming down on the other side, hung suspended by one foot.
“Help me down! Help me down!” he cried.
“What’s the matter?” called Jack, spurring his horse forward.
“I’m caught!” answered Budge.
“It certainly does look so,” spoke Nat, and he could not refrain from laughing at the odd spectacle Budge presented as he hung by one leg in a rope that was fast to the top of a tree, which bent like a bow with his weight.
“Take me down!” wailed the unfortunate one.
“How did it happen?” asked Sam.
“Long Gun made a spring trap,” gasped Budge, “and – and – ”
“And you wanted to try it,” finished Jack, as he went to his chum’s aid.
CHAPTER XXVII
ORDERED BACK
“Hurry up and get me down!” pleaded Budge, as he tried to grasp the sapling with his hands, to ease the strain on his foot.
“I’m coming,” replied Jack, who was laughing heartily. “Guess I’ll have to cut the tree down, though.”
“No; I have a better plan than that,” spoke Will. “I’ll show you.”
In another moment he was climbing up the thin trunk of the hickory that served to hold Budge Rankin suspended. Then Will’s plan was apparent. As he climbed up farther, his weight, added to that of Budge, caused the sapling to sway toward the ground.
“Grab me and cut the rope!” cried Budge.
“All right,” replied Jack, and when his queer chum was near enough to him, Jack seized him around the waist. Nat, with his hunting knife, severed the thongs of deer sinew from which Long Gun had made the loop. Then Budge was released, and he assumed an upright position on the ground, while Will dropped from the bending tree, which straightway sprang back to its place.
“Hu!” grunted Long Gun, with just the suspicion of a smile on his copper-colored face. “Boy go up heap fast.”
“’Sright,” admitted Budge, while he began hunting through his pockets for a piece of gum.
“What in the world did you ever put your foot in that trap for?” asked Jack, when it was ascertained that Budge had not been injured.
“Well,” he said, “I’ll tell you. You see, I asked Long Gun to show me how to make a spring trap. I thought it might come in handy when I got back home. He showed me, and made one. But it didn’t look to me as if it would work. So I just touched the trigger with my foot, and – and – ”
“We saw the rest,” finished Bony. “Cracky! But I thought at first you were giving us an exhibition of a human skyrocket.”
“Or trying to imitate the gigantic bird that left the marks in the snow,” added Sam. “Let’s tell Budge about it.”
Which they did; and as his chum was usually pretty sharp in his conclusions, Jack asked him what he thought it was that had made the mysterious prints in the snow.
“It must have been a roc, one of those birds you read about in the ‘Arabian Nights,’” declared Budge.
“There never were such birds,” objected Jack.
“Sure there were,” declared Budge. “It says so in the book.”
“No one ever saw one,” objected Sam.
“No, and you never saw George Washington,” spoke Budge quickly. “But you’re sure he was here once, ain’t you?”
“This is different,” remarked Bony.
“’Sallright. You’ll find that’s a big bird, like a roc,” declared Budge, while he began to help the Indian get supper.
They discussed, until quite late that night, the cause of the mysterious noises they had heard, and also what peculiar bird or beast had had the struggle with the men. Then Jack finally declared:
“Oh, what’s the use of wasting our breath over it? We can’t decide what it was. There’s only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?” asked Sam.
“Try and find out what it was.”
“How can we?”
“Well, I’ve got two plans. One is to make another trip on the other side of the mountain, and go farther next time. We can search for some sort of a camp.”
“And the other plan?” asked Will.
“Is to keep watch, and see if we hear that thing passing over our camp again. If we do, we’ll throw a lot of light wood on the fire, and when it blazes up we may catch sight of it.”
“That’s a good idea,” declared Nat. “We’ll take turns keeping watch at night, and we’ll begin right away.”
They agreed that this was a good plan, and the night was divided into six watches, one for each of the lads, as Long Gun positively refused to have anything to do with seeking a solution of the mystery. Some light wood was collected and piled near the camp fire, in readiness to throw on, so as to produce a bright blaze the moment the queer noise was heard in the air overhead.
But that night passed without incident, and so did the three following. During the day the boys went hunting in the forest, or fishing in the Shoshone River, having fairly good luck both on land and in the water.
It was about a week after Jack’s plan of keeping night watches had been in effect, that something happened. He had about given up hearing the noise again, and was about ready to propose that the next day they should go on a trip over the mountain.
It was Jack’s watch, and he was sitting by the camp fire, thinking of his father, his aunts and matters at home, and, it must be confessed, of a certain brown-eyed girl.
“I must take a trip over to Pryor’s Gap and see her,” he said softly to himself.
The fire was burning low, and Jack arose to put on some more wood. As he did so he heard a vibration in the air, not far above the camp. Then came what seemed to be a whirr of wings and a throbbing noise.
“The mystery! The mystery!” cried Jack, tossing an armful of light wood on the embers.
The fire blazed up at once, and Jack looked upward. He saw a great shape hovering over the camp, a shape that was fully sixty feet wide, and he knew he could not be mistaken, for there were the gigantic wings flapping. The object was flying right across the valley.
Will, Sam and Nat rushed from the tent. They had heard Jack’s cry.
“Do you see it?” the watcher demanded. “Right up there!”
The fire blazed up more brightly, and in the glare of it could be dimly seen something like a great bird.
“That’s it!” cried Nat. “Gasolened grasshoppers! but what is it?”
No one answered. The throbbing and whirring grew fainter, and the shape passed out of sight. From the tent could be heard the howling of Long Gun, as he prayed in his own tongue.
“Quit that!” yelled Bony from the canvas shelter. “Do you want to frighten us all to death?”
Then Long Gun’s cries were muffled, and it was evident that he had hidden his head under his blankets.
“This settles it!” declared Jack positively. “We’ll make another trip over the mountain to-morrow and see if we can’t solve this.”
“That’s what we will!” added Nat. “First thing you know we’ll wake up some night and find ourselves gone.”
They made preparations to be away all night if necessary, taking plenty of blankets and food. Budge and Long Gun decided to remain in camp to look after things.
“S’posin’youdon’tcomeback?” asked Budge, all in one word.
“Oh, we’ll come back,” replied Jack confidently. “If we don’t, you and Long Gun will have to come after us.”
“Where’llyoube?”
“You’ll have to hunt,” was Jack’s answer as he flicked his horse with the quirt.
They had decided to do some hunting as they proceeded, and were on the lookout for game. The weather continued fine, and the snow had disappeared, though they might expect heavy storms almost any day, Long Gun said.
They crossed the mountain ridge, and started down the other side, without having had a chance to shoot anything. They reached the place where they had seen the mysterious marks in the snow, and made a careful examination, but could discover nothing new.
“Well, Jack, which way now?” asked Sam as they stood looking about them.
“Down the mountain,” decided Jack. “I think we may get a shot at some deer, if we don’t find anything else in the valley. Long Gun said it was a good hunting ground.”
They rode on, Jack and Nat in advance. Whether their horses were better than the steeds of their companions, or whether Jack and Nat unconsciously urged them to greater speed, was not apparent, but the fact was that in about an hour the two found themselves alone, having distanced their companions.
“Let’s wait for them,” suggested Nat.
“No, let’s keep on. It’s a good trail, and they can’t miss it. They’ll catch up to us soon. Maybe we can see something to shoot if we go on a little way, or maybe – ”
“Maybe we’ll see that mysterious bird,” finished Nat. “I believe you’d rather find that than kill a big buck.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jack slowly. “I’d like to get a nice buck, but I’d also like to solve that mystery.”
“Speaking of bucks,” whispered Nat quickly, “look there! Two of ’em!”
He pointed to a little glade, into which they were turning, and Jack saw two large mule deer feeding on the grass.
“A buck and a doe,” he said as he raised his rifle. “I think we are close enough to risk a shot. You take the buck, Nat. You haven’t had a good pair of horns yet, and that fellow has some beauts. We’ll both fire together.”
Nat nodded to show that he understood. The deer had not scented the young hunters, but were still quietly feeding. Slowly Jack and Nat raised their rifles, having dismounted from their horses.
Just as they were about to pull the triggers a curious thing happened. The deer suddenly raised their heads, and gazed at a spot to the left of them. Then they bounded away, so swiftly that it was difficult for the eye to follow them.
“Well, did you see that?” asked Nat. “Something scared them.”
“Yes, and it wasn’t us,” said Jack. “We’re out of sight, and the wind’s blowing from them to us. I’m going to see what it was that sent them off.”
He mounted his horse again, an example that Nat followed, and they rode down the glade to where the deer had been feeding.
“I wonder if it could have been a bear?” asked Jack of his chum. “If it was – ”
He did not get a chance to finish the sentence, for even as he spoke the bushes just in front of the two lads were parted, and three men stepped into view.
“What are you lads doing here?” asked one of the strangers sternly.
“We – we were hunting,” replied Jack. “We saw two deer, but they ran before we could get a shot.”
“Well, you’d better make back tracks to where you came from,” said another man gruffly. “Vamoose, you!”
“Are these private grounds?” asked Jack. “We didn’t know. We’re camped on the other side of the mountain, and we understood we could hunt here.”
“Well, you can’t,” said the third man. “These aren’t private grounds, but we don’t want you around here, so you’d better skedaddle. Move on, now, or it won’t be healthy for you.”
As he spoke he advanced his rifle in a threatening manner.
“Oh, we don’t want to trespass,” spoke Nat. “We’ll go.”
“You’d better,” was the grim response of the man who had first spoken. “Clear out, and don’t come here again. We don’t want any spies around.”
“We’re not spies,” said Jack, wondering that the man should use such a term.
“Well, we don’t care what you are. Clear out! That’s all! Clear out!”
There was nothing to do but turn back. Slowly Jack and Nat wheeled their horses, meanwhile narrowly eyeing the men. The trio, though roughly dressed, did not appear like hard characters or desperadoes. They looked like miners.
“You’ll have to move faster than that,” said the man who had spoken first. “If you don’t we may have to make you.”
There was a movement in the bushes back of him, and Jack and Nat glanced in that direction to see who was coming. Another figure stepped into view, the figure of a lad well known to Jack and Nat, for it was none other than Jerry Chowden, the former bully of Washington Hall.
“Jerry Chowden!” gasped Jack.
“Jack – Jack Ranger!” exclaimed the bully, no less surprised than were the two lads on horses.
“Do you know him?” asked one of the men quickly of Jerry.
“Yes – er – that is – ”
“Come on, you! Move away from here if you don’t want to get into trouble!” fairly shouted one of the men. He advanced toward Jack and Nat, who, deeming discretion the better part of valor, clapped spurs to their horses, and raced along the trail to rejoin their companions. As they galloped on Jack gave one glance over his shoulder. He saw Jerry Chowden in earnest conversation with the three men, and that our hero and Nat was the subject of the talk was evident from the manner in which the bully was pointing toward them.
