"Listen!" exclaimed Frank, holding up his hand.
"Talk to me about your Tower of Babel! It wasn't in the same class as that row. Twenty men trying to talk all at once!" growled Jerry, starting up.
"Oh! Where are you going?" asked Will.
"Outside, to find out what the trouble is," replied the other.
"But you may get hurt if those bad men start to shooting up the train," expostulated the official photographer anxiously.
Jerry gave a hoarse laugh.
"Tell me about that, will you! He actually believes we are going to be put through a course of 'stand and deliver' by the merry gentlemen of the road. Why, bless you, my boy, didn't you hear one man say something about a trestle burning just ahead? It spells delay for us, but that's the worst of the whole affair."
"Then I'm going out, too," declared Will, with sudden zeal, as he snatched up his camera and threw the strap over his shoulder.
He scented a chance for a striking picture, and to obtain that Will would have risked even a possible encounter with train robbers.
Frank and Bluff would not be left behind, and quickly the entire quartet had reached the platform. They found that the stop was at a little country station. A signal had suddenly flashed before the eyes of the engineer, telling him he must not think of running past, which accounted for the quick work of the compressed-air brakes.
No need to tell what was wrong. Up the track a quarter of a mile could be seen a fire, and one glance was enough to tell the chums that, just as Jerry had said, a trestle of some sort seemed to be burning.
Loud shouts attested to the fact that every available man was hurrying to the scene, in the hope of saving the trestle before it was so far gone that nothing could be done.
"Come on, fellows! Our train must stay where it is until this thing is done burning, one way or the other. Perhaps we can help put the fire out with buckets."
That was the first thought Frank had, to be of some assistance.
The four of them ran with the rest of the passengers. Such a spectacle could not be witnessed every day, and every one was desirous of getting closer to the scene of action.
"How did it catch?" asked Frank of a railroad man who was hustling about, handing buckets to a line of men extending down to the water of the creek far below.
"Don't know. Perhaps from sparks left by the six-seventeen freight. Lend a hand here, lads; we need all the help we can get," replied the other.
"Sure! That's what we came for. Get along, boys, and pass these buckets!" cried Jerry, suiting the action to the words.
Once the string of buckets got to going, and the contents began to be cast upon the creeping flames, there sprang up a hope that the trestle might be saved.
Seeing this, the workers redoubled their efforts, and faster rose the full buckets, the empties going down at the same rate. It is really astonishing what a large amount of water can be carried by such an endless chain.
"Hurrah! We're besting it, lads! Keep it up!" shouted the agent, who was the man Frank had first addressed.
Will had not joined the relay. There seemed to be plenty of recruits without him, and, truth to tell, he was bent on getting a picture of the scene. Doubtless many present were startled by a sudden brilliant illumination as he set off his flashlight cartridge; but those who were in ignorance as to what it meant were soon set wise by others.
Once they began to get the upper hand of the fire it became easy. Fortunately, there was not a breath of wind at the time. Had it been otherwise, no efforts on their part could have saved the trestle.
"I should think they would have them all of steel!" gasped Bluff, as he labored away, passing endless buckets up and down.
"Most of them are, I understand, but in this case, you see, it is a long stretch, and perhaps it wasn't thought necessary," replied Frank.
"We're going to save it, all right; but I wonder if our train dare pass over? It seems to me the fire must have weakened the structure more or less," remarked Jerry.
"Oh, well, they'll find some means of strengthening it in that case. I'm only worrying about the delay. Mr. Mabie will have to wait so long."
"But, Frank, they must wire the news, and he will know the reason for our hold-up," said Will quickly, and the others all agreed that this must be so.
Less than an hour later the last spark had been extinguished. Then men climbed all over the trestle to ascertain just how much it had been weakened by the fire.
There was a difference of opinion among them, some declaring that it was as good as ever, and the others shaking their heads solemnly, as they prophesied all manner of dire things if the through train, with its heavy sleepers, attempted to go over.
While some gangs of men were hastily bracing up a weak spot with what material lay close at hand, kept for an emergency of this sort, a freight train that happened to be on a siding at the station, was pushed out on the trestle to discover how the situation stood.
The chums watched operations with their hearts in their mouths, figuratively speaking; but no catastrophe followed, and it began to appear that, after all, the express might pass over in safety.
Another trial was given, this time with the heavy freight engine attached to some of the largest flats, laden with steel beams. The trestle bore the strain handsomely.
"That settles it, fellows. Back to our car for us. We're going across!" sang out Jerry as he turned and made off down the track.
"How long were we here?" asked Bluff, sighing, and they knew he was thinking again of the weary hours that must elapse ere he could open that big trunk in order to ascertain whether his fears in connection with that beloved hunting-knife had any foundation or not.
"Three hours, about. Give them another half hour to get moving, and there you are. Hark! The engineer has started to whistle. That is to tell the passengers a start is intended; and here they come, rushing pell-mell, fearful of getting left." And Frank laughed at the energy displayed by some of those who had been aboard.
It was a critical time when the train slowly pushed out upon the long trestle. Everybody doubtless held their breath, and doubtless many a heart throbbed with suspense.
"It's all right, boys! We're safely over!" exclaimed Jerry, as, looking out of the open window, he could see that they had passed the critical stage.
"Oh! I'm so glad! I don't know when I've felt such a flutter about my heart. But, anyway, I secured a cracking good snapshot of that burning bridge. Every time we look at it we can remember our hold-up," observed Will, sighing with relief.
It was now about ten o'clock at night, and on account of the delay, travel was more or less congested along the line.
Frank, upon making inquiries, learned that they would not arrive at their destination until about daybreak, and so he and his chums went to their berths to secure what sleep was possible.
Frank had them up in good time, and long before dawn they were fully dressed, awaiting the arrival of the train at the valley station with impatience.
"Another hour now, and then I shall know," Bluff was saying to himself.
"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Jerry, who happened to overhear him. "And for the peace of the party, I do hope the first thing you see when you open your bag will be that awful sword."
"We're stopping, fellows!" cried Will, trembling with eagerness.
Five minutes later they jumped down from the train.
"Hello, boys! Glad to see you! Better late than never!" said a hearty voice, and then they found themselves shaking hands with a big man, whose gray-bearded face seemed to be a picture of good nature.
Of course, this was Mr. Mabie, the ranchman. He saw to it that their big trunk was dropped off the baggage car, to be seized by a couple of cowboys and hustled on to the back of a long buckboard wagon, drawn by a couple of skittish horses.
Then they were off, not five minutes after the train had pulled out.
"Here, Reddy," said Mr. Mabie to the young driver, "let me make you acquainted with some good fellows about your own age," and he introduced them one after another.
Frank saw that the cowboy was well named, for he had quite a fiery thatch; but his freckled face seemed one of the sort that invited confidence, and Frank believed he would like the other right well. Of course, Reddy was attired as all well-ordered cowboys should be. Will was secretly wild for a chance to introduce him in some picture.
"It will give such a pleasing variety to our book of views, for we haven't got a single cowboy in between the covers," he said in an aside to Frank.
They followed up the valley for over an hour. The ranch was miles removed from the railway, and surrounded by the wildest scenery the boys could remember having looked upon, and that was saying a good deal, after such a journey.
Martin Mabie was a widower, without any family. Still, he had a number of women folks on the place, a sister keeping house for him, with a Chinese cook to attend to the kitchen part of the establishment.
"Ain't this immense?" remarked Bluff, as he waited impatiently for the men to carry the big trunk indoors, so that he could satisfy his soul about the one object that had been worrying him ever since leaving Centerville.
Somehow or other they seemed slow about doing this. The horses had to be attended to first of all. Then there seemed to be some sort of excitement in the neighborhood of the corral, for the boys noticed a mounted cowboy come dashing up and jump from his steed, which was blowing hard, as if from a rapid dash.
He wondered if this sort of thing was of daily occurrence on the big ranch, which took in the whole valley for miles, and extended even up along the sides of the mountains on either hand.
"What ails the fellow, I wonder?" observed Jerry, who, it seems, had also noticed the rush of the newcomer.
"From the way he bolted into the office where Mr. Mabie went, I imagine he must have brought important news of some sort," remarked Frank.
"Perhaps our very introduction to the Big M Ranch is going to be in a whirl of excitement, fellows. I've noticed that somehow we seem to stir up things wherever we go; not that we mean to have things happen, but they just pick out such a time to play hob," said Jerry, shaking his head as if thoroughly convinced.
"Here comes Mr. Mabie, hurrying this way!" declared Bluff, beginning to forget his other anxiety for the time being in this new mystery.
"And there goes the cowboy back to the horse corral. He's shouting something, too, and as sure as you live every man is jumping to get a horse handy between his legs. Look at them slapping saddles on! Why, they'll be off like the wind! Boys, something is up! I know it!"
Frank and his chums saw several cowboys dash away as though possessed, shouting, and waving their hats in a reckless manner, as if about to charge an enemy who had designs on the cattle of the ranch.
"Whatever can it mean?" said Will again.
"For the life of me I can't imagine," returned Frank, sorely puzzled.
"But we'll soon know, fellows, for here comes Mr. Mabie, and he's swinging his hat as though just as excited as the balance of the crowd. Whatever it is, he means to tell us!" cried Jerry, his eyes glowing with the nerve-racking anxiety.
"Boys, do you want to see some fun?" called the ranchman as he came up.
"Always ready for that sort of thing, sir. What's going on?" asked Frank.
"An old friend of ours, whom we call 'Mountain Charlie,' has broken bounds at last, and is even now trying to drag one of my best yearlings off to the mountain canyon where he has his den," replied the other.
"Mountain Charlie?" repeated Frank, mystified.
"And has a den in the mountains, too! What sort of a beast is that? Or can it be a wild man?" asked Bluff.
The ranchman laughed heartily.
"I forgot you were tenderfeet, boys. We call a grizzly by that name out here. This fellow we have known for some time. Hunting him has never proven a profitable business, and, as a rule, he has never before come so far out in the open; but hunger tempted the old chap, and the man who galloped in told me he was even then dragging the yearling he had killed in the direction of the hills."
"Oh! if we could only get there in time to see them shoot him!" exclaimed Will, hitching his camera a little closer to his body.
"That's just what you're going to see. I sent word that he was not to be hurt until we arrived. Horses are being hitched up for us all. I suppose you can ride, boys?" inquired the owner of the ranch.
"To a certain extent, though I suppose your cowboys will think us pretty punky at it," answered Jerry.
"But we mean to learn everything we can while here," piped up Bluff earnestly.
"Good for you! These horses are only old plugs, however, so there's no fear of them running away with you; and here they come."
Several cowboys came toward them, each leading a number of horses. Frank thought that for "old plugs," the four intended for himself and chums possessed considerable of the fire that had animated them in other years.
"Up you go, boys. Take your pick. Then we're off."
Each seized upon the nearest animal, and, making use of the stirrup, threw himself into the saddle. As Jerry had said, all of them had frequently ridden at home, and indeed considered that they knew as much about a saddle as the average boy of the East; but that amounted to very little out here, where every one almost lived upon the back of a broncho.
"Wow! But this is going some!" said Jerry as the whole group dashed madly up the valley.
"I only hope I don't lose my camera in the rush," came from Will, who was having troubles of his own in the rear.
"Look ahead, fellows! You can see what's going on, now!" called Frank, who kept alongside the ranchman in the lead.
"Why, there's the bear, as sure as you live!" Bluff gasped.
"But what's he trying to do? First he rushes one way, and then turns around to make a bolt at the other side. He must be getting rattled."
"Don't you see, Jerry, they've got him lassoed? He wants to tackle any one of those three cowboys, but he just can't, with as many ropes pulling him in three directions."
"Talk to me about that, will you, Frank!" cried Jerry. "I never expected to see a grizzly bear held up in a rope like a steer. Look at the game little ponies on their haunches, and holding like fun. They seem somewhat scared, too, pard. Between you and me, I don't blame 'em a bit. I'd hate to think that big beast was aiming to get a grip on me."
It was just as Jerry said. The cowboys had headed the grizzly off so that he was unable to gain the safety of the wild mountain gorges. Doubtless he had been loth to leave his prey at the approach of the riders, and this had contributed to his final undoing.
One after another three of them had dropped their ropes over the head of the grizzly as he reared himself on his hind legs. The lariats stretched like piano wires under the strain, and as the cowboys had taken up positions in a sort of triangle they could keep the bear from making any sort of rush.
"Watch and see the fun," said Mr. Mabie, who had made sure to fetch his rifle along when coming from the ranch house; but he did not seem in any hurry to utilize the same.
Will, of course, immediately made good use of his camera.
Meanwhile, wilder grew the exertions of the trapped grizzly. He was snarling with rage. The foam gathered about his mouth, and Frank shuddered as he saw the cruel teeth, not to speak of the long, deadly and poisonous claws.
"Hey, Bluff! If you only had that gentle little knife of yours handy, now would be a fine chance to rush in and have a tussle with that meek grizzly! You know you told us all just how you meant to slay the jabbercock with one straight blow."
Bluff did not make any verbal reply to this unkind thrust on the part of Jerry, but Frank, looking at him, saw that his face was deadly pale, and that he was staring at the terrible monster with whom the reckless cowboys were playing as a cat does with a mouse. He knew Bluff was feeling a chill at the thought of such a tragedy happening as his having an encounter with a beast like that.
"What if the ropes should break?" asked Frank as the captive made a more ferocious rush than usual, and the pony on the other side was dragged several feet.
"Then there would be somewhat of a mix-up, and a case of every man for himself. They'd expect me to show that I hadn't altogether forgotten my craft in connection with handling a rifle. Once I used to be a crack shot, but lack of experience plays hob with a man's nerves," replied Mr. Mabie, as he sat upon his steed and played with the repeating rifle he held.
"I see you are enjoying the situation, boys. Would one of you like to wind him up?" and the ranchman turned to Frank.
"I don't believe I would, sir," laughed that worthy.
"How about you, Jerry?"
"I've often dreamed of shooting such game, but excuse me, Mr. Mabie, it would be too much like the butcher business to please me," observed the other.
At this the stockman laughed.
"Oh, I can understand that principle of honor in a true sportsman, my lad, and I must say it does you credit; but when you come to know grizzlies better, and appreciate their terrible strength, you'll agree with the rest of us that a man has to forget such things when he gets a chance to puncture the hide of so fierce a monster as this old rogue. He could kill a horse with a single blow, or tear one into shreds with those claws. If I can get my mount to go a little closer, I'll try to wind him up with a single ball, but it's difficult to shoot from the back of a nervous pony."
He began to speak to his steed, which was striking the turf with its hoofs, and champing at the bit, as if terrified at such close proximity to, an animal so greatly to be dreaded.
Then suddenly there was a wild shout from the cowboys, and Frank, looking, saw one of them whirling his horse in wild flight, and dashing toward the group. He seemed to guess instinctively what had happened—the rope of the opposite rider must have broken under the tremendous strain. This really left the grizzly free, and, filled with mad rage, he was galloping straight toward them!
"Look out there!" shouted one of the cowboys.
"Run, boys!" exclaimed Frank as he started to turn his pony around so as to get beyond reach of the rapidly advancing bear.
He had just succeeded in doing this, and even started to gallop away, when he saw a sight that almost froze the blood in his veins.
Jerry had, of course, intended doing a similar vamoosing stunt. It happened, however, that his horse was more frightened than those of the others. When he jerked at the bridle the beast whirled with such a vicious fling that the boy, totally unprepared for such a move, and unable to get the grip with his knees that a cowboy always secures, went toppling over his head.
Frank, looking over his shoulder as he was borne rapidly away by his own alarmed steed, saw Jerry scramble to his knees. At any rate, he thought with relief, the other had escaped a broken neck in his ugly tumble.
Still, with that enraged grizzly bearing swiftly down upon him, in spite of the one rope that still held taut, the position of poor Jerry was not the most pleasant in the world.
Frank's first and only inspiration was to turn his horse around and rush back to the assistance of his chum. It never occurred to him that being without his own rifle, he would only be adding to the trouble by offering Bruin a double sacrifice.
His pony, however, offered serious objections to facing that roaring hurricane of a beast. Despite Frank's most strenuous efforts, he could only twist the animal's head around, but not a step would the frightened beast approach. Dancing there, he snorted his distrust and alarm.
But Frank plucked up new hope. He at the same time saw something else that gave another aspect to the case. Jerry was not to be left alone to his fate.
"Hurrah for Mr. Mabie!"
In his excitement Frank let out this shout. It was caused by seeing the ranchman leap from the back of his own horse and rapidly run back toward the spot where Jerry crouched, apparently too winded to get to his feet and try flight.
Now Mr. Mabie had reached the boy, and the barrier of his heavy repeating rifle would be between Jerry and the grizzly. Frank expected to see the stockman drop on one knee and take aim at the bear, now very close to the two dismounted ones. Nothing of the kind occurred. On the contrary, he saw Mr. Mabie thrust the rifle into the hands of the boy, who seemed to seize it eagerly.
Jerry had declined to shoot the grizzly when the beast was held by a cordon of riatas. The conditions were now considerably altered, for the huge animal was rapidly bearing down upon him, with the fire of destruction in his small, blazing eyes. It was a case of bringing his advance to a speedy stop, or suffering the consequences.
Frank's heart thrilled with pride as he saw his chum throw the rifle up to his shoulder and glance along the glistening barrel. Mr. Mabie had shown wonderful confidence in the boy's nerve to thus place the solution of the problem in Jerry's hands.
Holding his breath, as he still tugged at the mouth of his refractory mount, Frank saw the smoke shoot out from the muzzle of the gun as the report sounded.
"Whoop! He's down!" shrieked a cowboy curveting near by.
"Take care! He's coming again, Jerry!" shouted Frank.
The bear had rolled over at the shot, but being one of the toughest animals in the world, he had immediately gained his feet again, and was once more advancing.
But Jerry knew what to do, even though he had never met quarry of this caliber before. He pumped another cartridge into the chamber, deliberately took aim, with apparently little show of excitement, and fired again.
Once more the grizzly stumbled and fell. When he tried to get up again he did not seem equal to the effort.
Mr. Mabie was shaking the hand of the young Nimrod with great enthusiasm. Perhaps he had purposely tried the nerve of Jerry, to find out what manner of boys these were, of whom old Jesse Wilcox spoke so well.
Now that the monster was dead, the ponies consented to draw somewhat closer; but the boys had to dismount, and hand over their steeds to a cowman when they wished to reach the spot where the victim of the hunt lay.
Will, with his camera, was, of course, in evidence.
"I wouldn't have missed that for a cookie!" he declared. "And if that frightened horse had only allowed me to take a crack at the time the old hermit toppled over, I'd be ever so much happier."
Frank, remembering how the other had been forced to clasp his arms around the neck of his frantic steed at the time, smiled at the impossibility of such a thing coming about.
"Give us a grip of your paw, old fellow!" cried Bluff, rushing up, brimming over with enthusiasm and admiration. "I'll sure never forget that sight! And he did the Rod, Gun and Camera Club proud when he used your weapon, didn't he, Mr. Mabie?"
"I knew he would," was the quiet remark of the stockman; and Frank understood that the other had been forming a favorable opinion of the chums from the minute he saw them come off the train.
"Would you like that skin to remember the event by, Jerry?" Mr. Mabie asked, a little later, while they were watching the cowboys remove the hide.
"It would give my mother a cold chill to see it, if she ever heard the story; but then we have a clubroom over our boathouse, and I guess it would look nice there. So, since you are so kind as to offer it, I'll say yes, Mr. Mabie."
"Well, I should remark that we'd never forgive you if you let that chance slip. It looks as though our big-game trip might pan out something worth while, after all," observed Bluff.
"You do everything on a big scale out here in the Northwest, sir. The fields of wheat are tremendous, the distances immense, the mountains higher than any in the East, by long odds; and the game the biggest in the whole country," remarked Frank.
"And in this bracing air we hope to raise the finest crop of boys in the world. But let's return to the house, lads. It's time we had a bite, for I'm sure your appetites must be sharpened by this little adventure."
The ranchman cast many a secret admiring glance toward Jerry as they rode home. He fell back with Frank on purpose to speak his mind, while the other three galloped on ahead, laughing and shouting, as boys off on a vacation always do.
"I like that chap, Jerry," he remarked earnestly. "He's a lad after my own heart. What he said about not wanting to shoot defenceless game gave me a wrench, for we cherish notions along that same line up here in the wilderness. Of course, the grizzly, as I said, does not come under that law, for he's too terrible a customer to be given much rope."
"Sometimes he takes his own rope," laughed Frank, secretly delighted to hear this honest praise of his chum.
"Which is quite true for you, Frank. That cowboy will not soon get over the humiliation of having his lariat give way. He feels very sore about it now," remarked the stockman, casting a side look toward where a couple of his herders were wrangling over something as they brought up the rear.
"I'm so glad you gave Jerry that chance. He's the most enthusiastic sportsman I ever met, and so honorable in his dealings with the wearers of fin, fur and feather. No danger of the woods ever being depopulated while he's around," Frank said, with his customary generous view of anything that concerned his chums.
"It was what you may call an inspiration. My first idea, of course, was to cover the boy and face the bear. I did not doubt my own ability to down him, but somehow I was tempted to take chances with the lad. I'm glad now I did it. He stood the racket like a veteran. I'd be a happy man if I'd only been left a boy like your chum for my own."
The ranchman spurred on ahead at this, and Frank made no effort to overtake him, for he felt sure he had seen tears glistening in the other's eyes, and could appreciate his feelings, for the stockman's only child, a boy, at that, lay with the mother in the ranch cemetery.
Breakfast was ready for them, and what a glorious meal the boys made! Just as Mr. Mabie had said, they proved as hungry as wolves. That clear mountain air seemed to tone them up after their long railway journey, and Frank laughingly declared their host had better send away for a new stock of provisions if he expected to keep them satisfied.
Bluff was the first to leave the table. Frank had seen him eating hurriedly toward the close of the meal. He knew without being told what ailed his comrade.
"He'll never be happy until he gets it, fellows!" sang out Jerry, who, of course, had also noticed the hurried departure of the anxious one.
They could hear Bluff tossing things around hurriedly in the other room, where they expected to bunk, and to which the big trunk had been finally carried.
Ten minutes later, Frank, remembering that a great silence had fallen over the neighboring apartment, stole softly to the door and looked in. He saw a picture of abject dejection there—Bluff sitting on the floor, in the midst of piles of garments, clothes bags, and all manner of things, frowning and shaking his head, as if he had lost his last friend.
"What's the matter?" demanded Frank, drawing nearer.
"Matter enough," answered the disconsolate one, sighing heavily. "Why, after all my trouble and everything, I've gone and left that knife at home, and now my whole trip is going to be spoiled for me. I just seemed to feel that something was bound to happen to upset my calculations. I might as well go back, that's what," said Bluff, gritting his teeth in his spasm of disgust.
"Oh, humbug! There are other knives," remarked Frank cheerily.
"Not like that one," said Bluff dismally.
"No doubt Mr. Mabie will lend you a good one while you're here."
"Yes, he's awfully kind, but it wouldn't be that knife," groaned the bereaved Bluff.
"When do you remember seeing it last?" demanded Frank, as a suspicion darted into his brain that was connected with Jerry.
On one of their former camping trips Jerry had professed to entertain a decided antipathy toward a repeating shotgun of modern make that Bluff had bought. He declared that it was a shame for one who called himself a sportsman to handle so destructive a weapon. When a chance came, he hid the gun in a box that held some of their superfluous things. Later, upon trying to find it, in order to give it back, he learned that it was missing, and Bluff had to go without his gun until the hunt was nearly over, when it was discovered in the woods, where the thief had dropped it.
Frank wondered if Jerry was concerned in the mysterious vanishing of the wonderful hunting-knife. He had laughed at its tremendous proportions and ornate handle. Still, it did not seem reasonable to believe that Jerry would be guilty of a second trick along those same lines.
"I was trying to remember. You know we were showing our things to the girls?"
"Yes, I believe we were," smiled Frank; for he could still see Bluff flourishing his precious knife, sheath and all, for the entertainment of Nellie.
"Well, I can't remember for the life of me seeing it again after that. You know we packed in a big hurry in the morning. I may have laid it aside, intending that it would go in on top, and then overlooked it. Such a fool play, too, when that was the prize of the whole collection!" groaned Bluff.
"And you've looked over the whole outfit here, have you?" Frank continued, surveying the piled-up mess of stuff.
"Yes; three separate times. Oh, there's no getting around it, I've made a goose of myself, and you know how I wanted to use that trusty blade so much. Of course, I won't think of moping in my tent. I'll borrow a knife, and perhaps it will do me good service; but nothing can ever take the place of that beautiful piece of steel."
"Well, let's get these things in something like order before the boys come in. Sort out what belongs to you, and chuck the balance of your extra clothes in your own bag, for I see that you've had most of them out"
"Yes. I even wondered if I could have stuck that knife in among my other shirts and underclothes, but it isn't there. I'll have to stand it, but you fellows will never know what a loss this is to me. Coming all this distance, too, just to get a chance to use it on an elk, or something worth while."
Frank thought that if Bluff had his way his mates would at least never have a chance to forget about his great loss, for he was apt to remind them of it every little while.
Will now came bustling in, anxious to ascertain if his little developing outfit came through safely, together with his packages of hypo and other necessities.
It was decided to put in that day around the ranch seeing how Mr. Mabie ran his business. Then on the following morning a party of them intended to set out for a camp in the mountains, where game would likely be found.
"We'll occupy three camps I have in view. From the first we can go to the second by taking several bullboats that will be waiting for us, and shooting the rapids in the river. That would be an experience you boys might enjoy," remarked the stockman as they rode around the valley to get a comprehensive grasp upon the way in which this enterprising settler carried on a big cattle ranch.
Reddy seemed to have been picked out by the owner to keep with them. Frank was glad of this, for somehow he had come to entertain a fancy for the smiling young cowboy.
"Rapids, did you say?" exclaimed Jerry, his face lighting up with rapture. "Why, that would tickle us from the ground up. I've always wanted to run through some little Niagara. Frank, here, has done it up in Maine, so he tells us. I hope what you have will beat his experience all hollow."
"Well, they are some rapids, I understand," replied the other, smiling.
"And if I could only be on the shore, to see you shoot down, it would afford me the greatest pleasure in the world. Not that I don't want to go through, too, but my first duty is toward securing all these wonderful events in an imperishable way by taking a picture. Some scoffers may doubt a story, but pictures never lie."
"That shows your innocence, Will," remarked Jerry. "Why, I've seen fellows standing beside the fish they caught, which I knew myself to be only ten inches long, and yet the cunning photographer had arranged it so that it looked all of two feet."
"I'm surprised that you, with all your experience, shouldn't know that," said Frank, pretending to frown.
"You mistook my meaning, that's all. What I intended to say was that my pictures would never lie," affirmed Will sturdily.
"Hear! hear! Somebody rub him on the back, please! But joking aside, Will, I'm ready to back you up on that score. The only fault I find with you is your ambition to take a fellow in every pickle he happens to drop into," and Jerry made a wry face as he remembered a number of scenes in which he had figured, that were wont to excite his chums to uproarious laughter at such times as they looked at the faithful reproductions in their album at the clubhouse.
In this pleasant way the day passed, and evening found them eager to complete their preparations for the morrow. Mr. Mabie answered every question fired at him by the anxious young sportsmen, especially Bluff, who wanted to know everything connected with the game they expected to hunt.
"He's trying to forget his great disappointment," said Frank as he and Jerry watched the other plying Mr. Mabie with these queries; for Bluff was the son of a lawyer, and would never take things for granted.
"What's that?" asked Jerry, for no one had been told about the loss that had come to Bluff.
"Can't find that knife of his anywhere, it seems, and believes he must have left it behind. He was looking mighty blue when I found him in the room, with all our stuff tumbled, pell-mell, out of the trunk."
Frank eyed his chum as he spoke. Jerry turned a little red.
"Not guilty, Frank! I give you my word I never touched the measly old knife. I'm sorry for him, too, for he seemed so bent on doing great stunts with it. I'll take a look myself," he said hastily, and yet meeting his chum's gaze in such a straightforward fashion that Frank never doubted his word for an instant.
"No use doing that. He rooted the whole outfit over. The knife is gone, and that's sure! I've been thinking some about it."
"And had a bright idea, I warrant. What's your solution of the mystery?"
"Why, you see, Jerry, I can clearly recollect Nellie's startled look when Bluff showed her that terribly large knife. She's afraid of such things. I'm sure she must have worried some about it, and I was thinking—"
"What?"
"That perhaps she may have considered it prudent to hide it away so that he couldn't find it again. I believe she would in my case, anyhow. It would be just like Nellie."
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter much, only Bluff is such a fellow to hang on a thing he'll never give us any peace about it. Have you asked Will?" said Jerry.
"No. I will, though; but I don't think he would bother his head about a dozen knives. If it were a camera, now, or a rapid-action rectilinear lens, you could depend on him to take notice."
Frank was as good as his word. Will denied having touched the article in question, and said he was sorry to hear Bluff would be deprived of a pleasure.
And so for the time being the mystery remained such, with Bluff occasionally digging into that trunk in a vain search, and always sighing mournfully because he failed to bring the lost treasure to light.
The boys bunked in one big room. It was very much like a picnic for them, and would often bring back pleasant memories whenever they looked at the rather clever view Will managed to get of the interior, with his chums and himself lolling there.
In the morning there was pretty much of a bustle around the ranch house.
"Ready, boys?" called Mr. Mabie, as he appeared with his gun strapped across his back, as the easiest way of carrying it.
A chorus of affirmatives greeted his question.
"Then mount, and we'll be off. They've gone on ahead last night with the tents and foodstuff, so that we'll find things in pretty much shipshape when we get on the ground."
"Say, they do things right out in this big country, eh?" said Bluff to Frank as the two of them galloped off in company.
The morning was fair and the air sharp enough to be bracing.
"Never saw anything to equal the atmosphere here," remarked Frank as their host came alongside. "There seems to be a tonic in it that even we do not have up in Maine or the Adirondacks. It makes you feel like shouting all the time."
"Everybody says the same when they first come. Presently you will grow accustomed to its invigorating tone, and quiet down. It is caused by the dry air. We are a long way from the Atlantic, and these mighty mountains to the west act as a buffer to the moisture-laden air from the Pacific."
Crossing the valley, they were soon penetrating among the foothills at the base of the great uplifts, the tops of which bore eternal snow.
Wilder grew the scenery as they penetrated deeper into the wilderness. Frank and his chums were almost awed by the grandeur of their surroundings. At the same time, Jerry kept an eager eye on the watch for signs of game. The sportsman spirit was strong in his nature, and generally forged to the front.
It was Frank, however, who first chanced to spy something that excited his attention.
"What is that moving up yonder, Mr. Mabie? There! Look! I declare if it didn't jump straight across from that high rock to the other! Is that a Rocky Mountain sheep, sir?" he asked.
"Just what it is, my lad; and if you feel inclined, there is a chance for you to get a shot at it," came the quick reply.
"I would like it, first rate," declared Frank, immediately changing his rifle from his back to his hands.
"All right, then. Listen, and I'll tell you how it may be done. We'll rest our horses right here, for the last climb over this rough ridge to the bank of the swift river lying between. You drop down here and make your way along until you can get a chance to shoot. It will be a long shot, remember, so make allowances; and the wind is with you, not against you."
"I'll try my best, sir," said Frank, slipping off his horse.
"Be very careful as you crawl along, for a slip might cost you your life," were the last words he heard the stockman say as he began to descend the little declivity in order to make his way along its base, so as to remain concealed from the quarry.
Frank was careful as well as quick in his movements. Again and again he peeped out to see what the mountain sheep was doing. So far as he could learn, the animal seemed to be centering its attention on the caravan that had halted. Three times it moved its position, and once he was just in time to see it make a most dazzling leap, which he hoped Will might have caught with his quick-action lens.
Finally, having gained a place where he had a fine view of the animal standing there across the gorge, Frank sank down so as to get a good aim. Not quite satisfied, he crawled forward a little further, and then proceeded to put his fortune to the test.
Never had he calculated more exactly just how he should aim in order to bring the success he craved. When he pressed the trigger he was thrilled to see the mountain sheep give a wild spring into the air and then fall over the edge of the platform. This time its spring lacked the buoyancy of life, and Frank knew that his bullet had reached its billet.
But he had no time to exult, for as he moved he felt the ground slipping from under him, and realized that nothing could interpose to prevent his falling into the deep gorge!
There are times when one acts from instinct alone. Frank had no time to think, when he felt himself going down with some loose earth and stones into the wide canyon. He simply threw his rifle back of him, so that he might save it from falling, and at the same time have the free use of both hands.
He fell a dozen feet or so, along with the loose soil and rocks he had caused to give way under his weight. Then, by some happy accident, his outstretched hands closed upon a bush that was growing from the rough face of the wall, and to this he clung with desperation.
It threatened to come loose with each movement he made, and yet he was bound to find some niche for his dangling feet, so as to relieve the bush from a part of his weight.
He had heard the loud outcries of his friends, and knew they must be hastening to his relief.
If he could only hold on for five minutes all might be well.
Below lay quite an abyss, and a fall was apt to bruise him very much, even if he were fortunate enough not to have any bones broken. It was, therefore, with considerable gratitude that he discovered he could dig his toes into crevices in the rock, and thus hang on.
Jerry afterward declared that Frank presented all the appearance of a fly plastered against a wall; but it might have been noticed that he was the first one to reach the edge of the platform and breathe encouraging words to his endangered chum.
Mr. Mabie knew what would be needed before he made the first movement.
"Bring your rope, Reddy!" he shouted, and the agile cowboy had obeyed.
This was quickly lowered until the noose dangled below Frank.
"Use one foot to draw it in, my boy. We want you to get both legs inside the loop, and then gradually let us draw it up under your arms. It's all right. We're going to have you out of that, so don't worry!" called the ranchman.
"You can depend on it, Frank isn't frightened. If that bush threatens to go, get a quick grip of the rope! Do you understand, Frank?" called Jerry.
A quick nod of the head told that the one below realized he was as good as drawn up already. One foot was cautiously withdrawn from its support and the loop caught; then the second also passed inside the circle; after which a tightening of the lariat brought it up to where Mr. Mabie wanted to have it.
"Now here you come, my boy!" he called cheerily.
Frank let go his frenzied clutch, and swung into space; but willing hands quickly drew him up until he stood with his chums.
"Did I get him?" was the first question he asked, at which the stockman laughed heartily and patted him on the back.
"Spoken like a true sportsman, I declare! How about it, Reddy?" he said.
"There's his game, sir, lying just at the foot of that old slide. It was as neat a shot as I ever saw," declared the young cowboy, pointing.
"Which is the truth, old fellow!" exclaimed Jerry, seizing Frank's hand and wringing it warmly, without a touch of jealousy, even though his own laurels as the admitted best shot of the club seemed in jeopardy.
"But what a pity we can't get it! I hate to think of killing game and leaving it for the wolves," said Frank.
"Oh, that's soon remedied. Reddy will promise to land that sheep here for you in double-quick order, eh?"
Reddy was already fastening one end of his lariat to a projecting stone that resembled a saddle-horn. This done, he tried it, to make sure that it would hold. Then he tossed the balance of the rope, loop and all, over the edge.
"Does it reach down?" asked Mr. Mabie.
"Just gets there, and no more," replied Will, craning his neck to see.
Reddy flung himself over in what struck Will as a most reckless fashion; but he discovered in time that these free riders of the ranches do everything in that nervous manner. It is a country where men quickly learn that often their lives depend on their ability to act promptly and like a flash.
"He's down already," announced Will, half a minute later.
And it was not ten minutes before they saw the cowboy coming back again. He had Frank's first mountain sheep upon his back, and though the way was rough he jumped from stone to stone with surprising agility for one who spent so much time in the saddle.
In due time the journey was resumed.
"How much further do we go?" asked Will, as he followed behind the guide, Reddy.
"Here's the top of the ridge. Now you can see the other valley, and the noise you hear is made by a cataract in the river. We camp just below that. Fishing is good there, and I guess you'll like it," was the reply.
They soon headed down, and the end of their day's work seemed close at hand. It can be easily assumed that none of the boys were sorry. Quite unused to riding, they began to feel the effects already.
"I'm glad it's a camp after this. I've sure got a cramp in my legs that it'll take a long time to get out," grunted Bluff.
"Rome wasn't built in a day, son. Each time you ride you'll notice that cramp less and less, until after a month you will be entirely free from it. But here we are at our journey's end, and I, for one, don't feel sorry, because for ten minutes I've been scenting that coffee. The boys have seen us coming, and started to have dinner cooked."
It proved to be just as Mr. Mabie said. A most appetizing camp dinner was ready for them when they arrived. Perhaps Jerry and Frank may have thought it did not fully come up to some similar feasts they had helped prepare in the woods, but of course they never hinted at such a thing; for those cowboys, while the most accommodating of fellows, were also thin-skinned in some respects.
Will was fairly delighted at the romantic looks of the camp, back of which the waterfall came tumbling down. He could hardly wait to eat his dinner before he set to work to secure a fac-simile of the picture, with the party gathered around the fire, and the three tents making a pleasing contrast to the dark green of the piñon trees.
Most of the party were contented to remain quiet during the balance of the day, but Bluff developed an unusually ambitious spirit for action. Truth to tell, he secretly considered that his chums were having more than their share of good luck in making a record at bagging game, and thought it time he started in.
Mr. Mabie had made him accept the use of a spare hunting-knife. It was a short, though serviceable weapon, and had doubtless done splendid execution in days gone by. Bluff used to take it out when he thought no one was looking, run his finger over the keen edge, gaze sadly at the dim blade, and shake his head. He could not get the memory of that other grand specimen of the cutler's skill out of his mind, and his soul was filled with bitterness because of its strange absence.
"Look out for wolves!" called Reddy, but Bluff only waved his hand in derision as he walked away down the valley.
Of course, he knew that the stockmen were more or less troubled with these hungry marauders in the winter time, and often had to organize grand hunts in order to keep their number down; but it hardly seemed reasonable to expect trouble from such a source in the summer season.
Elk and moose had not as yet come under the protection of the game laws, so that they were at liberty to shoot what they pleased. As a rule, however, Mr. Mabie did not believe in hunting such animals save in the fall of the year.
Bluff had asked numerous questions before leaving camp, so that he knew something about the lay of the land in the vicinity. He had started out with all due regard to the way the wind was blowing, so as not to alarm any quarry that might be sniffing up the breeze.
Climbing among the rocks, and passing through dense patches of timber, he kept on the alert for signs of game. Now, Bluff did not make any pretence at being a skilful sportsman. In fact, until a year or so back he had been the bungler of the party when it came to a knowledge of woodcraft; but since then he had studied up on various subjects, and was now anxious to air his knowledge.
When he caught sight of a large animal with towering antlers, feeding in a little glade, he knew it must, of necessity, be an elk, for a moose was built along different lines entirely.
It might have amused Jerry to see the way in which Bluff crawled closer and closer to the expected quarry. No doubt he did make some ridiculous efforts, which were not at all according to the usual rules of the game. However, as Bluff would say, the proof of the pudding lies in the eating of it, and he certainly did manage to creep up quite close to the feeding elk.
Thinking he was now near enough, and that the animal was beginning to act uneasily, Bluff stretched himself out, balanced his gun on a stone, took a long aim, and then pulled the trigger.
The elk certainly dropped, at which the young hunter gave a bellow of delight. That was where he made a foolish blunder, for believing that his bullet had done for the game, Bluff started recklessly forward, bent on bleeding the same, and only regretting the fact that he could not initiate his precious new blade.
To his astonishment, the wounded elk scrambled to its feet, and instead of bounding away it shook its antlers in an angry fashion and started straight toward the young hunter!
"Hey! Hold on, there! That isn't in the game!"
The elk did not seem to care whether it were so or not, but came rushing straight on. Like many another, more experienced in the ways of the woods than himself, Bluff almost forgot that he had other charges in his gun. He was so amazed to see the animal he had fully believed to be dead show such surprising signs of life, that he stood there for a few precious seconds, gaping as if in a dream.
Then he made a wild spring to one side and gained the shelter of a tree.
"Oh! What a socker!" he exclaimed, as the enraged and bleeding animal came full tilt against the trunk of the tree.
Before he could say more, or try to form any plan of action, he found himself obliged to spin around that same trunk with all the rapidity he could command, for the elk was apparently determined to overtake him, and those towering antlers seemed pointed with spikes, in the eyes of the startled lad as he strained every effort to keep beyond their reach.
Bluff was really alarmed by this time. He knew that any unfortunate slip on his part would precipitate a tragedy.
"I laughed at Jerry and the wild dogs that chased him around and around, but never again for me!" he gasped, as he kept up the weary circle, hugging the trunk as closely as possible.
This, however, caused him to remember that on the other occasion his chum had finally managed to gain the victory through his own gun, and Bluff suddenly came to a knowledge of the fact that he did have a gun gripped in his hand, and which also contained five more shots.
"Hold on! Give me a breathing spell, hang you! I'll fix you yet!" he managed to exclaim, though he would better have husbanded his breath to better purpose.
The elk was not a bit accommodating. Perhaps the animal understood that so long as it kept Bluff in rapid motion the human enemy could not find a chance to use that fire-stick again, that shot out such burning missiles. At any rate, it persevered, and poor Bluff's tongue fairly hung out with fatigue.
In desperation, he was about to turn around, trusting to luck to get in a shot that would put an end to this awful chase in a circle, when the elk tripped and fell.
"Now!" gasped Bluff.
You would have thought he must have leveled his gun and fired. Jerry or Frank would, in all probability, have done that very thing. But Bluff seemed to go back to the first law of Nature, which is self-preservation.
He dropped his gun, and seizing a limb that happened to be within reach, climbed into the tree with the agility of a monkey. Fear spurred him on to do his best work just then.
"Don't you wish you could?" he shouted derisively down at the elk, which was jumping up, and making all manner of threatening movements with its antlered head, much after the fashion of an enraged goat, Bluff thought.
He was safe enough, but somehow Bluff did not like the idea of having to wait in the tree until his chums, drawn by his calls, came to the rescue. Why, he would never hear the end of the thing! It was too horrible to contemplate, and in some fashion he must secure possession of his gun to end the career of that pugnacious old bull elk.