The Young Alaskans on the Trail by Emerson Hough (i want to read a book TXT) 📕

stay in this camp until we get back, no matter how long it is, and you’re not to be uneasy if we don’t come back for two or three days. Don’t go out in the boats with Mr. Jess until we get back. Give him three meals a day, and finish up drying your trout.”

“All right,” answered Moise, “I’ll stay here all summer. I’ll hope you get beeg sheep.”

Alex turned, and after the fashion of the Indians, did not say good-by when he left camp, but stalked off. The two boys, rifle in hand, followed him, imitating his dignity and not even looking back to wave a farewell to Jesse, who stood regarding them rather ruefully.

They had a stiff climb up the first ridge, which paralleled the stream, when the boys found their rifles quite heavy enough to carry. After a time, however, they came out at the top of a high plateau, where the undergrowth was not very thick and tall spruces stood more scattered. They could now see beyond them some high, bare ridges, that rose one back of the other, with white-topped peaks here and there.

“Good sheep country,” said Alex, after a time. “I think good for moose, and maybe caribou, too, lower down.”

“Yes, and good for something else,” cried Rob, who was running on a little in advance as the others stopped. “Look here!”

“There he goes in his moccasins,” said Alex. “Grizzly!”

“Yes, and a good big one, I should think,” said Rob. “Not as big as a Kadiak bear; but see, his foot sinks a long way into the ground, and it’s not very soft, either. Come on, Alex, let’s go after him.”

Alex walked over and examined the trail for a little while.

“Made yesterday morning,” he commented, “and traveling steadily. No telling where he is by this time, Mr. Rob. When an old white-face starts off he may go forty miles. Again, we might run across him or some other one in the first berry patch we come to. It seems to me surer to go on through with our sheep hunt.

“There’s another thing,” he added, “about killing a big bear in here—his hide would weigh fifty to seventy-five pounds, very likely. Our boats are pretty full now, and we’re maybe coming to bad water. There’s good bear hunting farther north and east of here, and it seems to me, if you don’t mind, that it might be wiser for us to hunt sheep here and bear somewhere else.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said John. “Besides, we’ve never seen wild bighorn.”

“Come ahead then,” said Rob, reluctantly leaving the big bear trail. “I’d just like to follow that old fellow out, though.”

“Never fear,” said Alex, “you shall follow one just as big before this trip is over!”

Alex now took up his pack again, and began to move up toward the foothills of the mountains, following a flat little ravine which wound here and there, at no place very much covered with undergrowth. At last they reached the edges of bare country, where the sun struck them fully. By this time the boys were pretty tired, for it was far past noon, and they had not stopped for lunch. John was very hungry, but too brave to make any complaint. He was, however, feeling the effects of the march considerably.

“Well,” said he, as they finally sat down upon a large rock, “I don’t see any signs of sheep up in here, and I don’t think this looks like a very good game country. There isn’t anything for the sheep to eat.”

“Oh yes,” rejoined Alex; “you’ll find a little grass, and some moss among the rocks, more often than you would think. This is just the kind of country that bighorns like. You mustn’t get discouraged too soon on a hunt. An Injun may be slow to start on a hunt, but when he gets started he doesn’t get discouraged, but keeps on going. Sometimes our people hunt two or three days without anything to eat.

“But now since you mention it, Mr. John,” he added, “I’d like to ask you, are you sure there are no signs of game around here?”

Both the boys looked for a long time all over the mountain-slopes before them. Rob had his field-glasses with him, and these he now took out, steadily sweeping one ridge after another for some time.

“I see, Alex!” he called out, excitedly. “I know what you mean!”

“Where are they?” called John, excitedly.

“Oh, not sheep yet,” said Rob, “but just where they’ve been, I think.”

“Look, Mr. John,” said Alex, now taking John by the arm and pointing across the near-by ravines. “Don’t you see that long mark, lighter in color, which runs down the side of that mountain over there, a mile or two away, and up above us?”

“Yes, I can see that; but what is it?”

“Well, that’s a sheep trail, a path,” said Alex. “That’s a trail they make coming down regularly from the high country beyond. It looks to me as though they might have a watering place, or maybe a lick, over in there somewhere. It looks so good to me, at least, that I think we’ll make a camp.”

They turned now, under the old hunter’s guidance, and retraced their steps until they found themselves at the edge of timber, where Alex threw down his bundle under a tall spruce-tree whose branches spread out so as almost to form a tent of itself. He now loosened his straps and bits of rope from about the bundle, and fastened these about his waist. With remaining pieces of twine he swung up the package to the bough of the tree above the ground as high as he could reach.

“We don’t want any old porcupine coming here and eating up our grub. They almost gnaw through a steel plate to get at anything greasy or salty,” he explained. “We’ll call this camp, and we’ll stop here to-night, because I can see that if we go up to that trail and do any waiting around it will be too late for us to get back home to-night.”

Although no game had as yet been sighted, the confidence that it was somewhere in the country made the boys forget their fatigue. They followed Alex up the mountain-slopes, which close at hand proved steeper than they had looked for, keeping up a pretty fast pace, until finally they got almost as high up as the trail which Alex had sighted. This latter lay at some distance to the right of their present course, and a high, knife-edged ridge ran down from the hills, separating the hunters from the mountain-side beyond. Alex now turned to his young companions and said in a low tone:

“You’d better stay here now for a little while. I’ll crawl up to the top yonder and look over. If you see me motion to you, come on up to where I am.”

Rob and John sat down on a near-by rock and watched the hunter as he cautiously ascended the slope, taking care not to disengage any stones whose noise might alarm any near-by game. They saw him flatten out, and, having removed his hat, peer cautiously over the rim. Here he lay motionless for some time, then, little by little, so slowly that they hardly noticed he was moving, he dropped down over the rim, and, looking down over his shoulder, motioned to them to come on up.

When the boys joined Alex at the edge of the ridge they were pretty much out of breath, as they had hurried in the ascent. “What is it, Alex?” hissed John, his eyes shining.

“They’re over there,” said the hunter, quietly. “Five sheep, two good ones—one a very fine ram. Do you want to have a look at them? Be very careful—they’re up at the top of the slope, and haven’t come down over the trail yet. Be careful, now, how you put your heads over.”

The two boys now slowly approached the crest, and, almost trembling with excitement, peered over. Alex following, laid a hand on John’s leg and another on Rob’s shoulder, for fear they would make some sudden movement and frighten the game. When at length the boys crawled back from the ridge they were very much excited. “What’ll we do now, Alex?” asked John. “They’re too far off to shoot.”

“Wait,” said Alex; “they’re going to come on down the trail. I think they water at some spring in the mountain, although I don’t know. In fifteen or twenty minutes they’ll be pretty close to us—inside of two hundred yards, at least, I should think.

“Now listen,” he continued to the boys, “and mind what I tell you. There are two rams there, and if we get them we need nothing more. I’ll not shoot unless I need to. Rob, you’ll take the ram which is farthest to the right, at the time I tell you to fire, and you, Mr. John, will take the other ram, no matter whether it’s the big one or the little one. Let the ewes alone. And whatever you do, don’t shoot into the flock—wait until each of you can see his animal ready for a distinct shot. If either of you misses, I’ll help him out—there’s three or four hundred yards of good shooting all up that mountain face. Now mind one thing; don’t have any buck fever here! None of that, do you hear me?”

Alex spoke rather sternly this time, but it was with a purpose. He saw that the hands of both the boys were rather trembling, and knew that sometimes when a man is in that nervous condition a sharp word will have the effect of quieting and steadying him.

Rob looked at him quickly, and then smiled. “Oh, I see,” said he.

They were all talking in low whispers, so that they might not be overheard by the game, if it should come closer. “It’s no disgrace to have buck fever,” said Alex, in his low tone. “Injuns even get excited, and I’ve known old hunters to get buck fever right in the middle of a hunt, without any reason they could tell anything about. But now, when you’re steady enough, we’ll all crawl up once in a while and have a look.”

He kept a steadying hand on both the boys when a few minutes later they approached the rim of the ridge once more. By this time the sheep, which had not in the least taken alarm, were advancing rather steadily down the narrow path on the steep mountain face. The biggest ram was in advance, a stately and beautiful game creature, such as would have made a prize for the most experienced of hunters. It was all Rob could do to keep from an exclamation of delight at seeing these rather queer creatures so close at hand and unsuspicious of the hunters’ presence.

Alex pulled them down once more, and sternly admonished them to be quiet. “Wait now,” he whispered, “one minute by the watch.”

When the minute, which seemed an hour in length, had elapsed, Alex put his finger on his lips for silence and motioned to each boy to see that his rifle was ready. Then cautiously they all pushed up once more to the edge of the ridge.

This time they saw all five of the sheep standing closely bunched together, two or three of them with their heads down. There seemed to be a slight moist place among the slate rocks where perhaps some sort of saline water oozed out, and it was this that these animals had visited so often as to make a deep trail on the mountain-side. Alex shook his head as Rob turned an inquiring glance at him, and the boys, who by this time were steady, did not shoot into the huddled band of