CHAPTER IV—THE WOLF PACK

When Felix found himself alone he set about doing a number of things which he had in mind, meaning to tackle the wood problem when it got later in the afternoon.

Time passes quickly when any one is busily employed, and so the hour slipped by almost before he knew it. From some distance away there suddenly came the report of a rifle. Felix listened eagerly, but no second shot sounded. This seemed to tell him that none was needed.

"I reckon Tom got what he wanted that time," he said to himself, as he went on doing what had engaged his attention; "when he lets go, something generally drops. Makes my mouth water, just to think of having a saddle of venison hanging up here for a starter. And then it'll be my turn next to make a try. Yes, Tom was right; and it sure does look like we were going to have the time of our lives up here in this Rocky Mountain foothills country."

He remembered after a bit that there was only a scant amount of wood handy, and that Tom had hinted about laying in a further supply.

"Guess I'll just get a bucket of water, and then take to the axe for a spell," he remarked to himself, for, like a good many other people, Felix was quite food of talking to himself when alone.

Among other things they had found an old but serviceable galvanized bucket, which Old Sol had carefully greased, and put away for future use. It had taken Felix not a little time to get it in fairly decent shape again; but it would hold water, and that was a fortunate thing. Under such conditions campers have no right to be overly particular about the looks of things; and a little rust never hurt any one yet, Felix stoutly declared.

So, taking the bucket, he set out for the spring, which happened to be about two hundred feet away from the dugout.

No doubt Sol Ten Eyck was fully aware of the existence of that same fine spring when he started to locate his trapping cabin here in the wilderness; in fact it had everything to do with his selecting that particular locality for putting up his dugout-shack.

He had told Tom that that spring must be connected with some of those in the National Park; because, no matter how cold the winter was, it never froze up. What water came from it might get as hard as anything in the zero temperature; but as for the spring itself, it continued to cheerily bubble forth all through the wintry weather, defying Jack Frost to seal its mouth.

Felix was thinking of his chum as he made his way toward the spring. Doubtless he pictured Tom as busily engaged preparing the carcass of the deer for transportation to the camp; and he could in imagination almost see the pleasure his cousin was taking in his work.

"There never was a better chum than Tom," Felix was saying to himself, as he dipped his bucket carefully into the water; and then, noticing that in approaching too closely he had caused the water to become slightly "roiled," he poured this away, and stooping there, waited a few minutes until it should settle again.

A sound caught his hearing that caused him to quickly look up, and then turn his head. What he saw gave the boy a thrill such as he had seldom experienced before.

One, two, three savage looking animals were standing there, staring at him in a hungry way, just as though they considered themselves in good luck to come upon a dinner so easily.

They had all the appearance of dogs, but although Felix could not own up to any considerable experience with wolves, he knew in a flash that that was what these visitors must be.

And they looked dangerous, too. A single wolf is a cowardly beast, and will almost always slink away from a human being; but when in company, or running with a pack, he becomes an entirely different sort of animal. At such times, especially when sharp pressed by hunger, in the middle of the winter, he will break into the sheep-fold of a farmer, and even pull down a running horse that has been exhausted by a long flight.

Felix had read many a wild story of wolf hunts in Russia; and knew with what fierceness the animals on the Siberian steppes often chase travelers in native vehicles, frequently devouring men and horses.

So he did not underestimate the wolves that so suddenly appeared before him as he stooped over the spring, bucket in hand.

It flashed upon him that save for his hunting knife he was wholly unarmed just then; for his trusty Marlin had of course been left in the cabin; and what use would a five inch blade be against a trio of active, vigorous and reckless wolves, bent upon securing a dinner?

He stood up, and took a step toward the cabin. Ominous growls greeted the act, as though they would warn Felix that they did not mean to allow him to gain the shelter of his fort.

Felix had another thrill about that time. The first had meant only excitement; but this went further, and whispered of alarm as well.

How they bared their white fangs, and raised the long hair on their bony shoulders, to show that they were primed for fight.

The boy realized that unless he proved himself quick-witted the chances of his ever getting to where he could snatch up his good rifle, and give them what they deserved, would be pretty slim.

At such a time as this the brain works as if on fire. It seemed to Felix as though a score of things flashed through his mind at the same instant. He wondered if he could frighten the animals by dashing at them, waving his arms, and letting out a few wild whoops, for sometimes wolves are sent into a panic by the sound of the human voice.

But if the expedient failed, why, it would bring him all the sooner to grips with the three hairy scamps that seemed to invite a trail of strength, and resourcefulness.

How about the bucket—could he knock upon the bottom with his knuckles at the same time, and add to the din, so as to produce a temporary fear in their hearts?

The cabin was only two hundred feet away, and Felix just knew he could fairly fly over this distance, given half a chance; but if they recovered soon enough to leap after him, was he not likely to have them on his back before he could get inside and slam the door shut?

But something must be done!

He could see them edging a little closer all the while, as though unable to hold themselves wholly in check. And they were spreading out more in the shape of a fan, too, as if they knew the best way to trap him.

Whatever was to be done, he must lose no more time about it, or the attack would follow, and then it would be too late to devise any scheme looking to creating a diversion.

It seemed as though just at that instant Felix remembered something that promised to open up a possible avenue of escape.

When he was sitting there, resting for a few minutes, he had picked up the newspaper that had been wrapped around some of their smoked meat. Despite its greasy condition Felix had become interested in an article on some subject of surgery that happened to catch his eye. This he had partly read through; and then, wishing to complete a certain task with which he was engaged, he had doubled the paper up, and unconcernedly thrust it into a rear pocket; little dreaming how in doing this he might have been actually saving his own life. So do trifles sometimes turn out to be of the greatest moment.

This paper, with its greasy surface, would make a fierce flame, if only for a brief time; and he always carried a bountiful supply of matches along with him; for Tom had advised this, as a precaution, in case he ever became lost, when each one would be worth a priceless sum.

No sooner had the idea flashed into the mind of Felix than he put his hand around, in hopes of feeling the doubled paper. His heart was in his throat when at first he failed to touch anything, then he remembered that it was in the other hip pocket he had thrust the paper.

So he drew it out, rustling in a manner that elicited a fresh chorus of snarls and growls from the three guards, who stood between him and the shack where safety for him lay.

Crunching the paper up, Felix next sought for a match. He had a little safe in one pocket of his trousers; but so clear was his mind at this critical stage of the game that he instantly remembered placing several matches loosely in the side pocket of his coat, where he could get at them more easily when starting a fire for supper.

So ugly did the wolves act about this time that he was almost afraid they were determined not to wait any longer, but proceed to open hostilities. And so he continued to talk, and call out at them the while, in hopes of averting the crisis until he had started things moving himself.

Straight ahead of him lay the dugout. Once he began running he must make record time, and keep in a direct line for the door. How fortunate that he had left this wide open when starting after that bucket of water! All he would have to do would be to fly through that friendly aperture, snatch hold of the door, and fling it back of him. Then his next move would be to make one leap for the corner where the Marlin stood; once he felt its convincing metal in his hands, and after that he would not care a snap of his fingers for all the timber wolves that existed within a radius of ten miles.

All these preliminaries Felix seemed to settle, just like a great general would his plan of campaign; only he had to do it out of hand. The impatient and hungry wolves would not wait his pleasure; they wanted things to be moving along.

Felix had let the empty bucket drop to the ground when his brilliant scheme came flashing into his mind, so that both his hands were free to conduct the work he had arranged.

First of all was the striking of the match, and this he would have to accomplish along one leg of his trousers, as Tom always did. The act was greeted by more nasty and irritating snarls, as the three wolves moved still closer, hardly able to hold back longer.

When the flame of the match was communicated to the greasy newspaper, of course it flashed up splendidly.

This was his chance, and delay now would be apt to injure his prospects of being able to reach the shelter of the cabin.

So Felix began to wave his flaming torch, made up of the twisted newspaper, and at the same time sprang straight at the three wolves. He knew that such a move would add to their temporary panicky state of feeling and give him a chance to cover some ground.

And as he started to jump at them, he also called out at the top of his voice, and waved both arms, as though he might be an animated human windmill in action, bearing down upon them.

CHAPTER V—A FIRST TASTE OF VENISON

"Get out! Get out, you rascals!"

That was about the burden of what Felix yelled, as he dashed at the three timber wolves; although, when put to it afterwards he could never be sure of what he said, only that he endeavored to make his whole appearance as fierce looking as possible.

It seemed to be a success, too, for the animals turned tail, and bolted. Wolves, as indeed about every other wild animal in the woods or in the mountains, inherit a peculiar dread of fire, though of course the only acquaintance most of them have with its terrifying qualities is when a forest or a prairie fire threatens their lives.

Even before the white man came to these shores of America, the Indians knew how to use flint and steel in order to kindle their fires; and besides, now and then, doubtless conflagrations may have occurred through fire coming down from the clouds, and the lightning striking some dead tree in the woods.

Thus the fear of flames is born in these predatory animals; and as even in the broad daylight the wolves saw the greasy newspaper flash up into a little pyramid of fire, they just "scooted for all they were worth," as Felix afterwards declared, when telling the story of his little adventure.

He did not even waste a second in glancing over his shoulder as he ran, in order to ascertain how far this fear carried them. Chances were, they would quickly get over the condition of panic, especially when seeing their expected dinner making off in that vigorous fashion. And Felix knew that once this occurred, they would be racing after him as fast as they could run.

As the boy had always been fond of baseball, and kindred games, while at school, doubtless he could look back to many an occasion when he put in what he considered his "best licks" in endeavoring to stretch out a two-base hit into a three-bagger; or possibly trying to steal home, when the ball was being sent back to the pitcher, and his club needed a run the worst kind, to win.

But Felix always claimed that had he been able to cover ground on those occasions as rapidly as he did when those three wolves were after him, he might have easily counted a home-run on that two-base hit; or be sitting on the home plate by the time the pitcher was ready to throw to catch him.

He fairly flew, every muscle and nerve being "on the job," as he called it. The yawning open door was just in front of him; but by now he could positively hear a terrible scratching sound in his rear, which must be produced by the scrambling of his lupine foes over the intervening ground.

They had recovered from their temporary scare, and were after him at full speed, bent on pulling him down as they would a wounded deer.

But he reached the dugout, and shot through that opening like a flash. At the instant of doing so he reached out, and catching hold of the door, gave it a desperate fling.

He heard it strike something, which could only be the head of the foremost wolf. And turning as quickly as possible, Felix threw his weight against the door, which was even then commencing to move inward, under the rush of enemies without.

But there was enough of vigor and alarm in the boy to crush the door fast; after which he secured it with the bar.

He was safe, then, and had cheated the hungry beasts out of their expected dinner. Felix seemed to experience a sudden change in the state of his feelings. He had been alarmed before; now he was angry at those three bold beasts. And turning around, he picked up the Marlin with which he expected to get his ferocious grizzly; and which had been chosen particularly on account of its hard shooting qualities, as well as its faithfulness in a pinch, the mechanism never failing to work, as some guns have a weakness for doing.

Once he had the hammer drawn back, and Felix walked deliberately over to the door, which he meant to swing open. He might have taken to the window just as well, but somehow he felt so fortified by this accession of the repeating gun that he scorned such "baby" action.

Taking down the bar, he allowed the door to open just a few inches. That gave him the chance he wanted to see the gleaming eyes and the red mouth of a wolf not two feet away.

With the shot he saw the animal roll over in convulsions; while the other two lost no time in making hasty tracks away from that dangerous locality.

And here was where Felix showed that he knew what he was doing when he selected the door instead of the smaller opening that served as a window, since it actually had a pane of glass, and a movable sash—he was enabled to immediately step outside, gun in hand, and take a couple of shots at the fleeing wolves.

With each report one of the scampering beasts rolled over. It was as fine shooting as Felix had ever done in all his life, and he had always been accounted a rather clever hand with either rifle or bird gun.

"All down in that alley; set 'em up again!" he exclaimed, thrilled with the remarkable success that had followed his work.

Not one of the ferocious beasts got up again, to try and limp away; so that the young Nimrod was not compelled to use more than a single cartridge apiece.

But when, presently, he went to the spring for that bucket of water, Felix, you may be sure, carried the rifle along with him; and the three cartridges that had been ejected were replaced by fresh ones.

There were no more wolves hovering around in that immediate neighborhood, apparently, and he was not disturbed any further. So Felix set about chopping his wood in the most unconcerned way possible, after examining the bodies of his prizes, and dragging them into a row under the big tree.

A short time later he heard Tom's "cooie," and answered it. Of course the other had ceased his wild run as soon as he caught the regular sound of the descending axe; but when he came up presently, fairly panting for breath, his face displayed more than ordinary curiosity.

"What was it, Felix?" he asked.

"Do you mean, why did I fire those three shots?" asked the other, meaning to tantalize his chum a little; for he could see how Tom was burning up with eagerness to know the cause of the firing.

"Yes, yes, of course. It's generally the signal that a fellow needs help," said Tom, eagerly.

"Well, my time for needing help had about passed when I let drive with the Marlin gun," Felix went on, in a mysterious way that the other could make nothing out of. "But if you could have dropped in here about a minute before that time, I tell you now, you'd have been the most welcome sight my eyes could have looked on."

"But why? Open up, Felix, and tell me what happened. You shot something, didn't you?" Tom went on to demand.

"I shot three times, and there were just that number of the scamps, Tom."

Whereupon Tom glanced around, and in consequence quickly discovered the several forms of the defunct beasts lying in a grim row under the big tree.

"Well, I'll be hanged if it wasn't a whole pack of wolves; and what fierce looking fellows, too!" he exclaimed, as he hurried over to examine them.

"Huh!" grunted Felix; "I reckon each one looked about as tall as a house to me, when they stood there, and showed me by their bared fangs, and savage growls, that they didn't mean to let me make a dash from the spring to the shack without tackling me."

"The spring! D'ye mean to say they waylaid you there? But how lucky it was that you didn't forget to have your gun along!" ejaculated Tom.

"That's where the joke comes in," remarked the other, drily; "because it never once occurred to me that a fellow ought to go to get a bucket of water, with his gun under one arm. It was in the cabin at the time, more's the pity."

Tom plumped down on the ground, and mopped his face with his bandana; his run had apparently heated him up considerably.

"Spin the yarn, Felix; don't keep me guessing so hard. However in the wide world did you keep them off till you grabbed up the gun?" he urged.

"Couldn't have done it at all, I give you my word, because they were just bent on tackling me off-hand; but it chanced that I had an old newspaper in my pocket."

"A newspaper!" echoed Tom; "what under the sun did that have to do with it! How could a paper interest wolves? Come on, tell me what you did, Felix?"

"Struck a match, and made a bully old torch. Then I just jumped for 'em, and hollered to beat the band!" replied the other, with a grin.

Tom's face was a study as he listened, and he too smiled broadly.

"A great stunt, my boy, it sure was," he went on to say. "And so that scared 'em off enough for you to get inside, where your gun was, did it?"

"But only by a close shave," replied Felix. "One of the critters came slap up against the door even when I was banging it shut; and they all tried to outpush me."

"Then I suppose you just opened the little window, and gave the sassy beasts one, two, three, eh, Felix?"

"Just what I did, only it was the door I opened a little, Tom. After I'd bowled one over, the others put for shelter, just as I expected; and so I was able to just step outside, and plunk the runners as neat as you please. I'm some proud of those two shots; they were as good as anything I ever did at my best."

"Well, you have done yourself proud, let me tell you that; but in my mind the best part of the whole business was where you thought up that clever dodge of using that newspaper for a torch. It was a stroke of genius," said Tom, earnestly, and there could be no doubt that he meant it.

"But I heard you shoot; did you get any fresh meat? Excuse me for asking; but I'm that hungry for a bite of venison I'll have to forget my manners, Tom?"

"Oh! I downed a young black-tail buck, and was toting the meat to camp when I heard you shoot three times. Of course I just thought you'd visitors here in the shape of that Abe Cozzins and Perley Kline we've been hearing so much about, as guides who've been doing all sorts of tough things, been fired from the Park, and are suspected of shooting game on the Government reservation. You just bet I did some tall sprinting for a while; then when I heard you start chopping, I knew you must be all right; but by that time I was too much worked up to turn around and go back for the venison I hung on a limb. I'll do that as soon as I get my breath once more."

Felix swung his axe merrily, while the other watched him.

"You couldn't have better exercise than that for broadening your chest and hardening your muscles don't you know it, Felix," Tom asked, presently.

"Sure I do, and that's a sly hint I'm to be the steady wood chopper while we're up in camp at the foot of the Rockies," replied the other, laughingly; "but I really like the handling of an axe first-rate; and with more practice I think I'll be able to bring it down exactly where I want, every time, just like those loggers up in Maine do."

"Well, I must say you're in an awful big hurry to load up with pelts," Tom continued, with a whimsical grimace in the direction of the three wolves. "Here you hardly get in camp before you begin by knocking over a big cat that crawls out of our chimney; and before a single day goes by you've lain out a heap of fine wolf hides for me to stretch and dry. At that rate I see myself keeping busy right along and we'll have a load to take back on our sledge that'll make Frazer's eyes stick out of his head. I kind of think he laughed in his sleeve at the idea of two boys catching any of these fur bearing animals. He'll have another guess coming. But I ought to be hiking out after that venison. I'd hate to have any critter make way with it, after going to all the trouble I did, eh, Felix?"

"And then, we need it in our business so bad, too," remarked the other, drily; "so I think you'd better be getting it, Tom."

Accordingly, Tom started off again to retrace his steps, promising to be back in half an hour or less. With the pleasing prospect of fresh meat for supper, Felix worked with additional vim, as he swung the light axe they had carried with them through the three days they had been on the trail up here.

Now and then he would steal a glance toward the row of grim trophies that had fallen to his skill as a marksman; yet from certain words that dropped from his lips it was evident that Felix gave much of the credit to his faithful gun.

"Just point it straight, and it'll do the rest every time," he chuckled, with a fond look at the rifle snuggled down close to where he was working, so that he could snatch it up at a second's warning, if necessary.

After a time the cheery whistle of his chum was heard near by, and then Tom appeared, staggering under his load, but making light of it when Felix protested that he should not have tried to carry so much.

"Plenty of meat for a week or two, because it'll keep sweet and nice in this mountain air, and particularly at this time of year," Felix had said, as he helped unload the pack-horse and sized up the cuts.

"Don't examine 'em too close," remonstrated the Nimrod; "I never was a good hand at butchering; though I had ought to be, because I've been raised among cattle, and have cut up many a steer. But it answers our purpose."

"Well, if you call that poor work, you'll take a fit when you see what I do," remarked the other, shaking his head in despair.

As the afternoon was now getting along, they determined that they might as well start things moving, looking toward supper. Both of them were fairly wild to get the first taste of meat on the trip.

At home, and cooked in the civilized fashion, with possibly only a poor appetite spurring one on, venison is apt to seem dry eating; but take it out in the woods with the proper surroundings, and hunger that is clamorous in its demands; with the game cooked after the hunter's fashion, and there is nothing more delightful. Just so the coffee tastes like nectar out of a rusty old tin cup, while at home much of the pleasure is lost if there happens to be a crack in the delicate china cup in which the fragrant juice of the Java bean is served. The conditions and surroundings have a great deal to do with the enjoyment of a thing; and venison was never intended to be eaten over a snow-white table cloth, and flanked by cut glass and china and silverware.

While Felix commenced to get supper Tom gave his attention to taking off the gray "jackets," as he called them, of the wolves.

"Some day, not a great ways off," he remarked, "they'll be keeping a chauffeur or a gentleman in a car snug and warm, and that's a better use for them, than just covering three pesky calf-killers. I'm always tickled all to death to see a wolf knocked over, I despise the breed so; they're so sneaky and so cruel."

"Well, they looked that way to me, let me tell you," remarked Felix from within the shack, where he was busily employed; "especially when they drew back their lips and showed me what long fangs they had, all of 'em. But all's well that ends well; and we've got a nice bunch of wolf pelts to start on."

After awhile the tantalizing odor of coffee began to steal out to Tom; and then this was supplemented by the delightful smell of frying meat; for they had fetched along a good-sized frying pan, without which Tom never would go camping.

He had just washed up, after completing his job, so far as the first part of it went, when Felix announced that supper was ready.

"I reckon you'd better take a look around tomorrow," Tom remarked, as they sat there by the fire, enjoying a bountiful meal that made both boys as contented as kings. "I had my inning today; and besides, I've got lots of work to do, what with getting these wolf pelts fastened on stretchers; and setting a few traps in places not a great ways from the shack. And after the time you had, I give you fair warning that I'll never be caught out, with my gun at home. If you'd had time, of course, you could have climbed a tree; but those hungry chaps didn't mean to let you try such a dodge. Chances were they'd have nabbed you in three shakes of a lamb's tail."

"But we've got enough meat for awhile, haven't we?" asked Felix.

"Better lay in a stock while the chance offers," replied the other, wisely. "If we want to keep it I know how the Indians jerk their venison, and it ain't half way bad, cooked in a stew, or eaten as it's dried. Pemmican they call it, and some of the lot they carry is about as black as your hat, from the smoke it was dried in. An Indian brave can run for days with only a handful of that stuff along to nibble at when he feels faint. It's a life saver, all right."

"Perhaps, then, I will take a look around," Felix admitted; for he was eager to try his luck with the deer, as well as have a chance to observe what the surrounding country looked like.

They passed a pleasant evening, both busy doing some little thing; for there could always be found plenty that needed attention; and Tom was a great hand to want to have everything about him shipshape.

And when finally, becoming tired, the two chums turned in, they did not need any rocking to put them to sleep.

CHAPTER VI—FELIX TAKES HIS TURN

So another day found the campers under the shadow of the great Rockies. They were up early, for it had been about nine o'clock when they turned in on the preceding night; and there was plenty waiting to be done.

"Suppose you let the pelts go until later in the day, Tom," remarked Felix as they ate breakfast at the rough table, which Old Sol had built for his use when he used to spend so many months every winter up here, in this favorite nook.

"What for?" asked the other, well knowing that Felix would never make this odd proposition without having some good reason for it.

"Well," said his chum, slowly, "I'd like to go with you for a little while, and see how you set the traps you think of putting out. Then, later on in the day, perhaps after we've had a bite of lunch, I might try a tramp in another quarter from where you went, just to see what the country looks like."

"Just as you say," replied Tom, readily enough. "I didn't stop to think that perhaps you'd like to see the operation. And I guess it's just as well that you pick up some information about how to do the job; because some days perhaps you'll want to run the line of traps yourself; and then you'll have to know how to set them, as well as keep your scent from staying around, and warning timid animals away."

In about half an hour they started forth, each carrying a few traps. Tom had been cudgeling his brains to remember all that Old Sol had told him about his favorite places for setting his mink traps. There was a little ravine close by, through which a stream of water ran; and along the banks of this the wary animals abound.

Perhaps Tom may not have gone about his task in exactly the same way an experienced trapper would; for it takes years of work to learn all there is to know in connection with the cunning little fur-bearing animals that look on man as their most implacable foe, as indeed he has been ever since the world began.

Some people have a knack for doing this sort of thing, while others never seem able to learn anything about the game. Tom was one of the former. He had spent enough time with Old Sol to learn a great many points that were worth knowing. The rest could only come through personal experience in the field.

These mink traps were set in front of certain openings in the banks which, from the signs, were "used" by the mink in traveling about, a peculiar habit they have of doing at certain times of the year.

Then a couple of fox traps were left at spots which Tom understood were likely to bring about results. Great care had to be exercised in setting these traps, so as to conceal the human scent, which would come to the acute sense of smell of the sly fox, and completely baffle the designs of the would-be trappers.

After that some muskrats traps were placed in a little marsh where the rodents lived in great numbers. They are possibly the easiest animal to trap there is; and as the price of their skins has been going steadily up from next to nothing, until now they bring as high as sixty-five cents apiece, it pays a trapper to devote his entire time to taking the rats; which, truth to tell, are really no relation to the ordinary house rats, but are called musquash by the Indians, and are really very tasty as food.

It was when the boys were starting back to the dugout, after locating the last of their muskrat traps in the marsh, that Tom made a discovery.

"Looky here!" he exclaimed, pointing to one side; "what's been going on, d'ye suppose? Part of a deer, and it hasn't been killed more'n a week. Why, the foxes haven't made way with it all. Queer those hungry wolves didn't scent it; but then they don't eat carrion as a rule, like the coyotes. They're daintier in their choice of food."

"Whatever do you suppose killed this deer?" asked Felix, as they turned that way.

"We'll soon find out," replied his chum; "but the chances are ten to one it was a bullet from a rifle."

He bent over to examine the few remains, and presently looked up with a smile.

"What did I tell you, Felix?" he demanded, holding some small object before his chum's eyes.

It was a bullet, somewhat flattened from having struck the heavier bones, when it pierced the body of the deer.

"And only a week back, you say, Tom?" remarked Felix, a frown appearing on his face. "Then some party has been around here a short time ago? I had begun to believe we were going to have it all to ourselves; but I suppose that would be too good luck. Any idea what sort of a man the hunter was?"

"Injun," replied Tom, laconically, as he pointed to the mark of a moccasin in the soft soil near by; and which Felix noticed "toed-in;" for an Indian always walks that way; as Nature intended man should, before he began to wear stiff boots, and started to use his feet the wrong way, by "toeing-out."

"Whew! then all I hope is, that it turns out to be that good old halfbreed we heard so much about, Charley Crow they call him, because his other name is too much for a fellow's tongue. I wouldn't mind him so much; and if he's starting to put in a season trapping in this neighborhood, why, we might make friends with him, you know."

"As for me," declared Tom, with a disconsolate look on his sun-burned face; "you know, I don't take much stock in any Injun or half-breed. I only hope we have the good fortune not to run across this fellow, or any of his kind, all the time we stick it out up here. But then I'm prejudiced, I own up. Charley may be all they say about him. We'll let it go at that. If he doesn't bother us, be sure I'll not go ten steps out of my way to look him up."

All the same, it made them a little serious as they walked back to the camp. If there were others hunting and trapping in that section, such a thing always opened the door for all sorts of new troubles.

Supposing there should turn out to be a whole hunting party of Shoshones or Flatfoot Indians off their reservation, and engaged in a grand hunt; they would make things look pretty "sick," as Tom expressed it, around there, in short order.

But then, fortunately perhaps, boys are not much given to forebodings; and presently both Tom and his chum were feeling themselves again. Doubtless the recollection of that deer would return to them more than a few times to arouse these same doubts and speculations. And every time Tom felt that smashed bit of lead in his pocket, he would allow himself to indulge in guesses that could hardly lead to anywhere in particular.

It was now getting on toward noon, and Felix announced that he would not bother making a start until some time afterwards. There was no need of hurry, and inside of a couple of hours, he thought he ought to cover as much ground as he wanted to get over for that time.

"I'd better be making a start with those wolf pelts," said Tom; "because there's no telling what we may have on our hands by tomorrow, if only a third of those nine traps bring us returns. Makes me think I'm out again with Old Sol. How much I'd like to have him along, right now, he's such a bully old chap; and with a lot of queer things to tell about his experiences."

Although Felix did not bother to say so, truth to tell, he was entirely satisfied with the way things ran just then; there could not be a better comrade than Tom Tucker, and according to his mind, two was always a better number than three.

He watched Tom get busy with one of the pelts, and affix it to the large stretching board; after he had done considerable scraping, so as to get the skin as free from flesh as possible.

"They're prime skins, and that's what," the worker declared. "And if you'd shot this fellow on purpose so as not to injure his hide, you couldn't have done better."

"That must be the one that was trying to butt in at the door when I opened it just a mite," declared Felix. "I gave him his right down his throat; for he had his mouth open, and I could see the rows of shining white teeth; besides his red tongue hanging out."

"Of course that's it," remarked Tom. "I remember now that the others are shot in the side, and both of them just back of the foreleg. Great work, that, my boy; and when it comes to shooting I'll have to take a back seat, I reckon."

"Lay it to the gun," chuckled Felix; "all you have to do is to stick that shooting-iron out, and shut your eyes as you pull trigger. It does all the rest."

"Yes, and goes out to retrieve your game besides," added Tom, with a laugh. "The gun's all right, and I've used it enough to know what it can do; but there's a whole lot in the fellow behind the gun, as they say in the navy."

"By the way, Tom, you'd better tell me if you think there's any chance of my getting lost in these same old woods. I don't know half as much as you do about finding my way about; and I used to have the greatest weakness for losing my bearings you ever saw, some time back. Yes, I studied up all the known ways for telling the direction, if I lost my compass and could point out north as well as the next fellow; but the trouble with me was, I couldn't say whether camp meant north, south, east or west, most of the time. Of course, here I'd have the mountains to guide me; and besides, I've got a bully little compass somewhere around; so I don't think I'll worry about it. And even if I did stray off, it could only be for a night. After several stabs at it, I'd be sure to arrive at the proper direction."

"I don't believe you would lose yourself around here if you tried, Felix," asserted Tom, positively. "You're only saying that to josh me. But I'm not going to let it bother me any. If you don't turn up, why, I'll be on your trail in the morning." Tom said this jokingly, never dreaming that he might have a chance to put his words into practice so soon.

He, himself, had never been lost in all his life. Like the homing pigeon, Tom seemed to have some sort of instinct that, under all circumstances, allowed him to face toward home when he wanted to turn that way. And he could not understand how anyone could make such mountains out of mole-hills. Why, all they had to do was to use their eyes, and what sense lay in their head, in order to figure out just how to head to get back to their starting point.

And yet you could drop Felix down into the heart of a strange city, even great London, and he would presently be able to find his way around, so that in a week's time the streets would be as familiar to him as those of his native town; while probably Tom Tucker would have to be escorted to his hotel by the police every time he sauntered forth. He was used to one thing, and Felix another.

When two hours had passed Tom, seeing that his companion had not made any sign of going forth began to ask questions.

"Give up the idea of that little hunt for today, Felix?"

"Oh! no," was the reply, as the other got up and stretched himself, for he had been busying himself with some small job that allowed of sitting.

"Better be moving, then, or you'll be caught by darkness away from camp; and then you'll have to try bunking alone for once," suggested the other.

"That's so," Felix went on, beginning to buckle on his ammunition belt, and put a few things in the pockets of his coat, the sight of which made Tom elevate his eyebrows.

"Don't mean to take any chances, eh?" he remarked.

"Oh! well, there's no telling, and you yourself always say its best to be prepared. I expect to be back inside of two hours at the most, however," and Felix picked up his gun, showing that he was now ready to start.

"And I expect to have a lot of things done by the time you do come back," remarked Tom. "If you're lucky enough to get your deer, perhaps you'd better only bring home the saddle, and leave the rest for tomorrow."

"You're saying that because you know I'm not built along the same husky lines you are," declared Felix; "but lots of times these thin fellows can show plenty of grit and carrying power. So-long, Tom."

"And Felix," called out the other, as an after thought, "if you happen to run up against any of those fellows like Abe Cozzins and Perley Kline,—you remember Frazer telling us about their stamp, don't you?—better give 'em a wide berth. We know they're being looked for by the Government men, and p'raps they know it too, so they may feel ugly toward every one. If we were together I wouldn't think much of it; but you haven't rubbed up against that sort of border scoundrel as much as I have. Be careful, won't you?"

"I guess I will, Tom; and don't worry about me."

With that Felix was gone, his gun over his shoulder, and not a sign of his recent weariness to be seen about his quick, springy step, Tom noticed, with satisfaction.

The time passed rapidly to the boy who was so busy in camp. In fact, he hardly noticed its passage, and when he heard a distant shot, soon followed by a second, he was astonished to find that two hours had really gone.

"That sounded as though he'd struck something worth while," Tom was saying to himself, with a smile, once more turning his attention to whatever it was at which he chanced to be working at the time. "But unless he hurries in his work, it'll come on dark before he gets back. At this time of year night just seems to be in the tallest kind of a hurry to get a move on the daylight."

And indeed, as the dusk deepened, and he saw nothing of his chum, Tom went to the open door many times, wondering whether after all Felix might not have wandered so far afield that his own laughing prediction was being fulfilled, and that in truth he was temporarily lost.

But Tom, having prepared supper for two, waited a long time before he would sit down alone to eat his portion. As Felix was still absent the Western boy began to feel more or less worried. He had thought there could be little or no danger in those woods at the base of the Rockies; but now, with the absence of his chum, he began to see all sorts of evil things that might have come upon Felix, rather unused to these vast ranges of wilderness, so different from those he was accustomed to roaming in the Far East.

Later grew the hour, and Tom realized that the matter was getting a bit serious. He even went out, and fired his gun three times in rapid succession; and then listened eagerly; but there was no air stirring to carry sounds, and only the melancholy hooting of an owl up among the cliffs far away answered him.

CHAPTER VII—UNAVOIDABLE DELAY

There was a reason, and a good one, too, for Felix failing to show up that afternoon or evening, which will become apparent to the reader after a short time.

When he strode away from the camp under the big tree, it was as cheerfully as ever he had felt in all his life; nor was he dreaming of the possibilities of anything odd, or out of the usual rut, overtaking him. But many times it is the unexpected that swoops down upon us; just as storms once in a while surprise the oldest weather prophets, coming from a point they have never considered.

Felix wanted very much to duplicate the performance of his chum. He had made up his mind to three things, which he hoped his trip to the Rockies would bring forth. One of these, as has been said before, was to be able to shoot a ferocious grizzly bear, alone and unaided. Then he yearned to bring down one of those sturdy jumpers of the steeps, a Rocky Mountain sheep, or bighorn, stories concerning which he had read so many times; and last of all, he hoped to get the head of a seven-pronged buck, something that in all his hunting before he had never been able to secure for his collection.

He strode away, and in less than half an hour had begun to work things to suit the conditions of the hunt. The wind had changed materially from the preceding day, and was now coming out of the northwest. This allowed Felix a chance to head in a northerly direction, which was just what he wanted; because it gave him the option of covering ground which Tom had not touched in his little hunt.

Now he was moving cautiously along, eyes and ears on the alert; for his chum had warned him that in all probability the first thing he would know concerning the presence of a deer would be when he heard it jump hurriedly to its feet in some thicket, and then catch a glimpse of its brown side as it leaped wildly away. And Felix, being a clever snap-shot with his favorite gun, was on the watch ready to do himself credit.

Of course, even the best of hunters may make a poor shot at times, since when a deer plunges madly through woods and brush there is no certainty for aim; but he believed that if the chances gave him half a show he would make a success of his little excursion.

A more cautious or experienced lad than Felix would of course have taken more pains to note the lay of the land, and its other features, calculated to prove of more or less value to him later on in case he got his bearings mixed.

But he was buoyant and indifferent; besides, it happened that he had lately discovered certain tracks that held his interest, to the exclusion of all such minor things as the possibility of his getting lost.

These hoof prints had certainly been made by a deer of unusual size, a fact he viewed with exultation, since it told him that undoubtedly here was the very buck for which he had long been looking, and whose antlered head he began to hope was to grace the wall of his den at home.

And as he moved along he registered a silent vow that he would let nothing come in the way to interfere with the success of his undertaking, should he only have the good fortune to come up with his quarry.

Felix could not tell exactly how old the tracks were. He saw by several signs, however, that they had been made since early morning, since in places they had broken down the partly frozen earth. He was trusting partly to luck that the deer might not be miles away from him just then. If he had followed the usual custom of his kind he had lain down during the middle of the day, when the sun was warm, and might be feeding by this time.

An hour passed away, and Felix was just as eagerly tramping along with his eyes fixed upon those tracks as when he first started. If there was one trait young Edmondson possessed that cropped out frequently, it was his stubbornness, once his mind was made up; no matter what difficulties loomed up ahead, that were calculated to dismay the ordinary fellow, he would not be deterred.

By now he had covered fully twice the distance from the camp that he had intended to do; for instead of sweeping around, and making a half circle, he was keeping almost straight on, even though the trail zigzagged at times.

Even Felix, without the extended experience in tracking which his companion possessed, could tell that he was gaining on the deer, which had stopped to browse from time to time, when some tempting bit of green grass was come upon in small glades under the heavy timber growth.

This kept his excitement at fever height. What mattered it if he did not get back to camp that night; he had made ample preparations for spending a short period alone under the trees; and in fact was not wholly averse to trying how it felt to be making a bivouac in that Wyoming wilderness, quite by himself; for Felix was always seeking new and novel sensations, and he could not remember ever camping in solitary state in all his life.

At any rate Felix gave promise of some day making a splendid trailer; since the prime requisite to success along this line is stick-at-it-iveness, such as marks the wolf following the deer through day and night, until finally he wearies his intended quarry, and brings it to bay.

The tracks now looked much fresher than when he started to follow them. He began to hope that he might come suddenly upon his game in some quiet nook; and hence his eager finger toyed nervously with the trigger, as he kept pushing ahead.

And just as he had anticipated many a time, the first thing he heard was a loud snort. Then up jumped a buck of such splendid proportions that Felix was thrilled doubly by the apparition. Nevertheless, he did not lose his head, as many boys would have done under similar circumstances; but as the big beast leaped away, the Marlin repeater was flung up to the young hunter's shoulder, and its sharp report instantly followed.

With a crash the deer went down in a heap; but after a wild scramble, seemed able to get upon its feet again, proving that the first shot had failed to effect a fatal wound.

Felix naturally expected to see the animal go off with frantic bounds, and was prepared to send several shots after him, in the hope of bringing him down with a lucky bullet; but he did not calculate what a painful wound might accomplish in arousing the combative spirit and fury in an old buck.

To his intense amazement and consternation, the animal, while "bounding" all right, headed directly toward him, instead of away.

This surprising fact must have disconcerted the young Nimrod a trifle, at least, as it has many a veteran marksman under similar conditions; at least it caused him to aim badly; so that although he pulled trigger and the gun spoke, the advancing animal did not seem to swerve from the direct course he had taken in starting, and which if pursued, would bring him swooping down upon the boy.

Now Felix had heard Tom tell about the far from amiable qualities shown by these same hermit bucks, when aroused, and enraged by wounds; and how dangerous a charge on the part of one might prove.

He even noted that the antlers were much larger than the coveted seven-prongs upon which he had set his mind and hopes; and indeed just at that moment they must have appeared to his excited imagination about five feet long, and each prong threatening to do him a tremendous amount of harm if it came in contact with his person.

Felix rejoiced in the fact that he was in the neighborhood of a good-sized tree, behind which he could take immediate shelter, for the charging animal was so close upon him that he had no chance to shoot for a third time.

And it was with considerable activity and eagerness that the young Nimrod gave a leap to one side, and placed the tree-trunk between; but he clung with a desperate clutch to his rifle, knowing instinctively that sooner or later this was the only thing that could rid him of the implacable foe that his shots had aroused to such fury.

And then began a merry chase around that tree, with the wounded buck trying all he knew how to reach the fleeing hunter with those terrible antlers, which Felix had coveted so much; it began to look just then as though he might make their acquaintance in a fashion he had never dreamed possible.

Of course the boy had only part of the distance to cover that the deer required, in order to pass around the large trunk; but he was compelled to do this so many times, and kept going at such constant whirlwind speed that presently it began to cause Felix to puff a little; while to his alarm the raging beast seemed capable of keeping the chase up indefinitely, despite the wound in his shoulder, which Felix noted was bleeding considerably.

This fact warned Felix that he had better get busy, and think up some new line of tactics, if he hoped to come out of the scrape with flying colors, for he certainly could not gallop, or even slide, around that tree as he had been doing now for ten minutes, much longer.

The buck was desperately in earnest, and several times, came near impaling the boy with his antlers; so that Felix found himself kept busy between rushes in avoiding these dangerous attacks.

His attention being taken up just then with trying to work the mechanism of his rifle, in the hope of being able to put another bit of lead into the anatomy of his pursuer, possibly he failed to note just where he was stepping, for suddenly Felix tripped over some object, and fell just in the path of the swooping buck!

The rifle was twisted from his hands as he tried to save himself, and dropped far beyond his reach. As he tried to squirm out of the way of the charging buck, he felt a thrill of horror when the antlers of the beast were thrust under him, just missing his flesh, as it were, by an inch.

Before he could think twice, he was raised in the air by a sudden upward movement of the deer's head; and then went sailing swiftly through space, with his arms and legs flying in four separate directions.

Just how high he really did go Felix never knew, though he often pondered over the matter with considerable amusement, and wished some ambitious photographer might have been present with his little snap-shot camera to take the picture, for his edification in future days.

At any rate, he felt his progress checked by the branches of the tree under which he happened to be at the time; and with an involuntary movement, for thinking was positively out of the question at that moment, he instantly threw out both hands, his one idea being to clutch something that would prevent his falling back upon those cruel looking antlers of the wounded buck.

Fortune was kind enough to allow Felix to fasten to a friendly limb, and hold on tenaciously so that after a little struggle he found himself astride the same, and looking down in mingled astonishment and satisfaction on the chagrined buck below.

The furious animal seemed surprised that the object of his sudden hatred should decline to drop back again, to be gored and trampled upon, in order to satisfy the rampant spirit of revenge that was now wholly dominating the buck's actions. He gave positive evidence of his humor by leaping upward again and again as if in hopes of reaching the panting lad, who sat there just out of range; though once the sweeping antlers managed to touch the dangling foot of the hunter, causing Felix to experience an involuntary thrill of apprehension, as he snatched his leg hastily away.

Then by slow degrees the ludicrous nature of his predicament dawned upon Felix, and leaning back he laughed long and heartily; this only after he had anxiously felt of his ribs and limbs, to make positive that nothing beyond a few minor contusions and bruises had resulted from this heaving act of the animal in causing him to take an unexpected aerial flight.

After that he amused himself in addressing the animal, snorting and prancing below, calling him many sarcastic names that might have wounded the buck's self respect, could he but have understood. But the stubborn deer seemed bent upon only one thing, which was to visit his wrath upon the object of his hatred, or at least keep him treed, if it took him all night.

When another hour had passed without the beast showing the slightest inclination of quitting his post, Felix gave over his playful mood, and began to survey the situation in a more serious light.

Why, the stubborn old chap was apt to keep up his vigil all night; and even then some.

While the boy might be able to maintain his position among the branches of the tree that length of time without great difficulty, Felix considered the possibility of having to remain there inactive during a chilly night, with anything but pleasure. Thoughts of a cozy campfire taunted him, and urged him on to devise some method of outwitting the old buck.

What could he do to frighten the beast away? Apparently Mr. Buck was not one to be easily scared; and unless heroic measures were adopted, the chances of his occupying that elevated position until at least dawn, seemed excellent.

Felix cudgeled his brains, endeavoring to recall anything he had ever heard or read covering this strange ground.

Of course his first thought and expectation lay in the direction of his rifle; for if so be he could only get this valuable asset in his grasp, it would soon be goodbye to his tormentor.

Then he remembered that there was also another method of frightening the buck away, if only he could apply it. This consisted of taking some powder from several of the cartridges belonging to his gun, which still reposed in his belt, moistening it until it had the consistency of paste; then allowing it to partly dry; but while still in a soft condition thrusting a number of pins into the ball, with the points sticking out like the quills on the back of the "fretful porcupine."

Watching his opportunity, he would have to make a skillful cast, after first applying a lighted match to this boyish idea of a "spit-devil," and fasten it to the back of the jumping deer. Rendered frantic by the pain, and fright, the animal would of course dash madly away, and leave the prisoner of the tree a chance to descend at his leisure.

This latter scheme was very alluring in the eyes of Felix, in that it would relieve him of his persistent enemy; but at the same time he remembered that he wanted that same buck's antlers, and more than ever now, since they had given him the strangest free ride of all his experience; and letting him get away was not at all to his taste.

Then again, not being an experienced bull fighter, expert in tossing the ribbon-bedecked burrs that fasten to the sides of a bull in the ring, and make him ready for the sacrifice of the matador's sword, Felix doubted his ability to land his projectile upon the back of the buck at just the right second, and make it stick there long enough to frighten the valiant old fellow.

On the whole, he concluded to attempt the other plan, which had to do with the recovery of his precious rifle.

To accomplish this it was first necessary to produce some cord, and a hook; and then do some fishing for the weapon; all the while the buck must be watching his labors, with a possibility of defeating his efforts just when success seemed assured.

Fortunately Felix had the cord, all right; and in that wonderful little ditty bag, which Tom had taught him to always carry, there turned out to be a solitary fish-hook; though what use Felix had intended putting it to, was a problem which he could hardly have answered, had the question been asked.

He also hung a little weight upon the cord, to properly balance it, and allow of better angling.

Everything being ready, Felix crawled out on a limb where he would be just above the coveted rifle. The watchful buck noted his movements with no doubt considerable curiosity; and even followed below, shaking his antlered head from time to time, as if to warn the treed hunter what he must expect if he should slip from his hold, and fall to the ground, an accident Felix did not mean to have happen if he knew it.

The boy saw that if he commenced work now, the deer might frustrate all his efforts by entangling the line in his horns, and jerking it from his hands; so he settled down, as if to locate there permanently on that new limb.

Presently, as if reassured by his actions that there was nothing to be feared from the hunter, the deer began to move restlessly around, stopping now and then to look up questioningly; it seemed as though the beast had an idea he might thus coax his enemy to descend; for his manner was as plain an invitation as anything Felix had ever seen; but the boy failed to take advantage of it, continuing his labor of allowing the line to drop nearer and nearer the gun.

It was quite an exciting moment for the boy when the hook finally landed.