“Well,” said Hugh, “I don’t know but you’re right. It seems to me a great deal better to call things and places after Indians than to call them after the names of European cities. Haven’t you got a Rome in New York State? I know we’ve got a Paris in my State, and I don’t think either name is a very good one for an American city.”

“Not a bit good,” replied Jack.

While Hugh and Jack had been discussing names and places, Joe had been studying the mountainsides, to see whether he could discover any game. Presently he picked up a little bit of snow and tossed it toward Hugh and Jack. It hit Hugh’s leg and he turned around and looked at Joe, who made, with his lips, a side motion toward the valley, and after a moment’s search Hugh, and then a little later, Jack, discovered several sheep feeding far below them.

Taking out their glasses, they sat down on the rocks and began to search the valley for sheep, and before long discovered a number.

Jack thought that there must be eighteen or twenty, though it was not easy to count them, for some would occasionally disappear, hidden behind some bush or rise of the ground, while others would be found in unexpected places.

Those feeding at the upper end of the valley seemed to be rams, some of them with very large horns, while those farther away were harder to identify, but appeared to be ewes and lambs.

“I guess they are, Hugh,” answered Jack. “I don’t see any way of getting at them without going down into that valley, and the way it looks to me you couldn’t go and come in the same day.”

“No,” said Hugh, “it’s a long way.”

They spent some hours looking at the sheep, all of which after a while stopped feeding, and the ewes and lambs lay down on the grass, while most of the rams left the valley and climbed some distance up the rocks and lay down.

“Well,” said Hugh, “I don’t know but we’ve seen enough of Red Eagle Valley and its bunch of sheep, especially as we’re not going to get any of them. What do you say to turning round and going back to camp?”

The boys were ready, and they started back, following along the rim of rocks on which they were until they came to the high cliffs, down which they had to climb to get to their horses.

They were descending these, sometimes jumping from ledge to ledge, and in bad places lowering themselves by their hands, when Hugh, who was a little below the others, gave a low hiss, which caused the boys to stand motionless. After a moment he said in a low voice, “Come on down to where I am, and be quick about it.”

Cautiously and silently the boys descended to the broad ledge on which Hugh stood.

“Well, what became of them, Hugh?” asked Jack. “Are they still behind there?”

“Yes,” said Hugh, “I haven’t seen them come out and I don’t know as we will, but if the lion jumps on one of them, the other two ought to show up soon.”

Almost as he spoke they saw the three young rams climbing toward the upper ledges of the mountain, evidently undisturbed as yet, and a moment or two later the panther appeared on the trail that the rams had followed, eagerly looking after them.

The sheep climbed higher and higher and then stopped, and after standing for a little while, two of them lay down.

Meanwhile, their pursuer had not been able to advance, for if he had followed the trail which the rams had taken they would surely have seen him and run off. Two or three times he put up his head to look at them and then drew it back again.

“What can we do, Hugh?” asked Jack. “I’d like to get a shot at that lion, but he’s a long way off, and doesn’t show himself.”

“No, you can’t do anything now,” declared Hugh, “except wait. Maybe if the rams move, he will come out so that you can shoot at him with some chance of hitting. As it is now, it’s a thousand to one that you wouldn’t come anywhere near him and would just scare the game and make a noise for nothing. If you were ‘round on the other side of that hill you could probably get a good shot, but so you could if you had wings and could fly right over the beast.”

“Nothing to do but wait here, I expect?” said Joe.

“Nothing else,” said Hugh.

“I don’t know of anything unless we want to end the show right here. If you make a move the rams will see us and go off, and likely enough when the lion sees them go away scared he will see us, and then he’ll go.”

For a long time they sat there, but at length the two rams that had been lying down got up, and after moving about a little, started on, passing out of sight, round the side of the mountain, and long before they had disappeared the lion was cautiously creeping after them.

“Now, Hugh,” said Jack, “can’t we go over there and follow that lion and perhaps get him?”

“Well,” said Hugh, “there’s a chance, of course, of getting him and a good many chances that we may not see him again. If you feel like it, we can get up on the ledge along which the animals passed. We’ll make quite a procession, I think, the sheep in the lead, the lion after the sheep, and we three after the lion. I think it will be rather a funny sight to see, and I’m willing to be one of the procession, if you like.”

As Hugh supposed, the chase was fruitless. When they got round on the other side of the hill they could see the three rams a long way off descending the rocks toward the meadow at the head of Red Eagle Valley, and after a careful inspection with the glasses the lion was also seen, still following them, but some distance behind.

“You see,” said Hugh, “we can’t catch that lion and the lion can’t catch the sheep. I believe we might as well turn round and go back to camp. We can come up here again some day before long and kill a sheep, if we need one, I reckon, and possibly get a shot at the lion, but we can’t to-day.”

On the way down they picked up the pack animals, and as they passed the camp Hugh stopped to cook supper, while the boys took the horses across the river and turned them loose to feed, returning to camp on foot.

The day had been warm, and from the mountains all around them, sometimes loud and sometimes faint and far off, came the rumble and roar of avalanches sliding down the heights.

“Lots of snow falling to-day,” said Hugh.

“Lots of it,” assented Jack. “But, say, Hugh, is this going to keep up all night?”

“No,” said Hugh, “just as soon as it gets a little bit cold these slides will stop falling, and then if the sun shines hot to-morrow they’ll begin again toward night.”

“Don’t the animals sometimes get caught in these slides, White Bull?” asked Joe.

“I don’t know,” replied Hugh. “Sometimes I’ve thought they do. One time I found a bunch of sheep bones at the foot of a cliff lying all mixed up together, and I had an idea that maybe they’d been caught in a snowslide and killed there. I heard, too, of a man that found half a dozen goats once in just such a place, and he thought they had been killed by a slide.

“In neither case had the animals been torn to pieces or skinned. Their hair and wool lay all about them. Still, I reckon these mountain animals are pretty well able to take care of themselves, and that they don’t often get into places where snowslides can harm them. Nowadays, most of the sheep live too high up to be caught by slides.”

“You say nowadays, Hugh, as if there had been a time when the sheep did not live high up. I have always thought that they were a mountain animal and always lived among the rocks,” said Jack.

“That’s so, Hugh; you are certainly right. Sheep don’t need the mountains.”

“No,” said Hugh, “they don’t. Of course, they always try to run to broken land when they’re scared, but that broken land need not necessarily be mountain land. I have seen sheep a good many times feeding out on the flat prairie and a long way from any hills; feeding with the antelope, in fact. Haven’t I ever told you old Hugh Monroe’s story about how the Piegans used to hunt sheep in old times?”

“I don’t know, Hugh,” replied Jack. “If you have I’ve forgotten it.”

“Well,” said Hugh, “all through the Piegan country there are great big buttes rising up out of the prairie, and in old times there used to be lots of sheep on all these buttes. They fed on the prairie down below, and then if they got scared for any reason, they’d run up on the rocks and get away. Old man Monroe says that in old times when he was a young man the Indians used to start out on horseback and go to one of these buttes where sheep lived and make a big circle around it. Then two or three of them would climb up on top of the butte and run the sheep off the top. Then they would go down to the prairie and the horsemen would chase them and kill them. They used to do this only occasionally, when they wanted mountain sheep hides for war shirts or women’s dresses.”

“Is it possible that the sheep here were ever so plentiful that they could be killed in that way, Hugh?” said Jack.

“Well, they’ve changed since then, haven’t they, Hugh?” said Jack.

“Yes,” replied Hugh, “they’re pretty sharp now. We saw to-day one of the worst enemies that a sheep has, and one that along the mountains here probably kills more than all the men that are hunting them do.”

“What was that, White Bull?” asked Joe, “the lion?”

“Yes,” said Hugh, “that’s just what it is. You see, the lion is at work all the time. He’s got to eat every two or three days, and to eat he’s got to kill something. Now and then he may pick up a bird or a rabbit or a woodchuck, but his main dependence is these animals here in the mountains. High up like this there are not so many lions, and I was surprised to see that one to-day, but lower down there are a good many, and, of course, in summer they work up higher. On the other side of the range, where deer are plenty, they kill lots of deer and a few elk, but they also kill a great many sheep and goats, most of them, perhaps, young ones.

“The two men who found these skulls were both good mountain men and they both believe that this was a place where a lion lay and killed his food as the sheep passed along the trail under the rock.

“There’s another interesting thing about sheep that most people don’t know. A sheep is awful easy tamed, especially if you get him young. I knew of one owned by a man in Salt Lake, caught when a little lamb and as tame as any dog. He was good-natured and liked to be petted. He spent most of his time lying on the roof of the house, but sometimes he’d jump down and feed in the yard and sometimes go quite a way along the street. Sometimes the dogs would chase him and he’d come back as hard as he could pelt, and then jump up on the roof, where he was safe.

“You take a young sheep, though, and tame him and let him grow up into a big ram and he isn’t afraid of anything and is likely to get real cross; and I expect that a big ram can hit a terrible blow with those horns of his.

“I reckon there are sheep found all the way up and down the mountains, maybe from the Arctic to Mexico. I’ve heard of a white sheep up North and of a black one, and I’ve been told that sheep were plenty down in the hot desert country in California and Arizona, but I never have been down there and don’t know anything about them. They say that down there they kill ’em by watching the water holes.”

“I suppose,” said Jack, “that there are not many sheep found on the prairie now, are there?”

“No,” replied Hugh, “I guess there are very few, if any at all. You see the prairie is getting covered with cattle now, and where there are cattle there are cowboys, and the cowboys don’t like anything better than the fun of chasing and roping any wild animal that they come across.

“A sheep don’t bear chasing very well. If they get much harried in any place, they get up and move away to where they think they’ll be safer.”

AT breakfast the next morning it was decided that they should try to learn something about the great mass of ice that lay in the basin south of the camp, which supplied the water for the river that fell over the cliff.

“Now, if we’re going up there,” said Hugh, “we’ve got a long tramp over the ice, and we want to go as well fixed as we can. We ought to have one gun with us, but we must go roped and take our sticks along. We may find that the ice up there slopes sharply and is smooth, and we ought to have something to help ourselves with.”

“All right,” chimed in both boys, “you tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”

“Well,” said Hugh, “the first thing is to point the ends of those walking sticks again, then shove them into the fire to harden. Next take some charcoal and break it up in your fingers and blacken your noses and cheek bones and your faces under the eyes. Each one of you ought to have a handkerchief or a rag to tie around your heads over the bridge of your nose if the sun gets very bright. That’s a good protection against snow-blindness.”

Beyond this level land was a talus fallen from the cliff and then a morainal trough, up which they passed to the ice above. From this point the whole basin of the great glacier was spread out before them, and Hugh began to examine it with a view to making the ascent by the easiest and safest path.

Hugh studied the situation with the field glasses for a long time and then, passing them to Jack, asked, “What do you see, son? Which road seems to be the best?”

“Well, Hugh,” answered Jack, after he had looked over the ground, “it’s a little hard for me to say, for I don’t know much about these places. The shortest way, of course, is to cross over to the right and try to climb up the rocks there, but the snowslides and rockfalls seem to be coming down all the time, and I shouldn’t suppose that would be safe. The same thing is true about going close to the mountains on the left, and, of course, we can all see that we can’t go up in the middle. It looks to me, too, as if the ice were steeper on the right hand than it is on the left, so I should say that it was better to keep to the left, just as near the middle of the glacier as we can without getting in among crevices.”

“What do you say, Joe?” asked Hugh.

“Yes,” said Hugh, “I think so, too, and I believe that’s the best way for us to go. I ain’t so much afraid of falling in those cracks in the ice as I am of being hit by one of those rocks that comes down a thousand feet or two. Even a little bit of a rock could crack a man’s head open, and if one of those big rocks ever hits him I believe it would go right through him.

“I think Jack is right and we’d better go where he has said. Now, before we start, we must tie ourselves together with this rope, and if we get to a place where the ice is any way cracked we’ll have to go pretty slowly, so that only one man can fall in at a time, and the other two can pull him out.”

They started without further delay; and now for two or three hours followed a slow plodding walk up the face of the ice. Sometimes they came to a long crevasse, which they had to go around, but at no time did they approach very near the edge of the snowfalls. Several times, however, they passed near great stones which had fallen from the mountain far out onto the ice.

At one point, when they had passed over three-fourths of the distance, they heard a low, rumbling sound behind them, and, turning, all three were in time to witness the fall of a great avalanche, which threw itself far out onto the ice.

The crest over which they were passing was substantially level, and before them stood the tall rounded summit of the great mountain, the top of which they hoped to reach.

When they had come to the end of the ridge, it was a short climb down to the ice, and passing over this for a short distance, they came to more rocks and, surmounting these, found themselves at the edge of a dome-shaped snow bank, which seemed to stretch away by a gentle slope to the very top of the mountains. To the north was the slope they had to cross, and immediately below the edge of this a tremendous drop of perhaps a thousand feet to another ice field below.

“Here’s a bad place,” said Hugh; “if this snow is real hard there’s a chance that some one of us may slip. We must go across slowly. Come to the edge and then we will go forward, one at a time, always keeping the rope tight between us, the two men that are standing still anchoring themselves solidly by means of their sticks. If one of us should slip he’ll need all the help the other two can give him.”

Hugh put his gun down on the rocks and said, “I reckon I’ll leave that here till I come back. I may want both my hands crossing this snow.”

If the traverse was slow, it was steady and safe; and before very long the three found themselves clambering over the broken rock near the top of the mountain. At the moment, they had little thought for the wonderful view, since the minds of all were turned toward the summit which lay before them, and now only a few steps distant.

A moment later and the peak was gained, and the three threw themselves down in a sheltered place among the great rocks that formed the mountain crest, where the view was entrancing in its extent and grandeur.

Immediately before and below them lay the great ice that they had just passed over, and behind or to the south, that other extensive ice field, which Hugh now said flowed into a tributary of the Flat Head River, and which, years before, had been named after a man who crossed the mountains through the Cut Bank Pass, the Pumpelly Glacier.

“I tell you, Hugh,” said Jack, “this is a wonderful place up here. It beats anything I ever saw. I can’t help wondering how these mountains got tipped up in this way, and what the force was that changed them from level or rolling ground to these sharp peaks and ridges.”

“Well, son,” replied Hugh, “you can’t prove it by me, but I expect that most of these valleys, if not all of them, were cut out by the ice, just as we see below us this valley here being cut out.”

“I suppose that is so,” Jack replied, “but it doesn’t seem quite possible to me.”

“Well,” answered Hugh, “you must remember that if our understanding about these glaciers is correct, they may have been working for thousands of years, and if they only ground away six inches or a foot of the rock under them in each year, a thousand years or so would make a mighty deep valley. And besides that, I reckon that in those ancient times these glaciers were a heap bigger and heavier than they are now, and maybe they moved a lot faster, and in that case they’d work a lot faster, wouldn’t they?”

“You bet your life it is,” said Hugh. “It’s only within a few years, since I began to talk to people who understood something about these things, that I began to look back a little. In my young days, so long as I had my blankets and a few charges of ammunition I never thought much about what was behind me or what was ahead. Of course, I always looked out for myself as well as I could, but I never thought very much about the world and the things that are going and have gone on in it. But of late years it’s different, and when a man does think about those things it kind o’ takes his breath away once in a while.”

“That’s so,” replied Jack. “People say that we can’t count the stars in the sky, and that we can’t understand how many miles away from the earth the sun or the moon is, and, of course, that’s true, but it’s just as hard for us to understand some of the things that are going on right under our noses, as it is to understand time or space.”

Up on this mountain peak the wind blew cool, and it was not long before they were ready to turn about and begin the descent.

“We’ll go back the way we came,” said Hugh, “and we want to go just as carefully over this snow as we did when we were coming up. Only one man must move at a time, and the others must fix themselves firmly, so as to hold him if he slips.”

Before leaving it they sat down under the lee of the ridge in the warm sun, and while Hugh smoked a pipe the others looked out over the wide white field before them.

Presently Joe called out, “Look at the sheep,” and pointed in front of him.

Jack looked, and at first could see nothing, but after Joe had told him where to look, he saw half a dozen tiny dark objects moving swiftly about without order over the ice a couple of miles away. Borrowing the glasses, he looked at them, and could plainly see that they were four-legged animals running to and fro over the ice field, apparently playing with each other.

Hugh looked at them and said that they were indeed sheep, as Joe had said, but confessed that he only called them sheep because he knew that no other animals could be found in such a place.

In the soil of the rocky ridge where they were sitting Jack discovered some beautiful pink flowers, but neither Hugh nor Joe could give them a name. They grew on exceedingly short stems from little round bunches of green leaves shaped like a pincushion and with the general aspect of what Jack remembered in Eastern gardens as phlox.

He would have liked to take some of these flowers back with him to have them identified, but had no way of carrying them.

Still roped together, the three once more descended to the ice, and started toward camp.

Hugh advised the boys to tie their handkerchiefs over the bridge of their noses, and to pull their hats well down on their foreheads to shield their eyes as much as possible from the glare of the sun.

As they went on down the glacier, they could see that even since they had passed up in the morning new cracks had opened in the ice and some that they had gone around on the way up had lengthened. Two or three of these were so narrow that they could step across them, but Hugh still kept as far from the rocks as the broken condition of the glacier would permit.

They were walking along, the boys perhaps a little carelessly, though Hugh’s vigilance never seemed to relax, when Jack’s left foot seemed to meet with no resistance as it struck the snow, and in a moment he was in a crack or hole in the ice far above his waist. Luckily he had turned his staff as he fell, so that it reached across the crack and held him, and but little strain came on the ropes which attached him to his companions. Hugh had heard the fall and had braced himself, and a second later Joe had done the same.

It took but a moment to pull Jack out onto the hard ice, and Joe, making a detour to the left, avoided the opening into which Jack had fallen. When they were all once more together and on the hard ice, Hugh said to Jack, “Son, you’re old enough not to have done a trick like that.”

“Well,” replied Hugh, “of course, you’re new to traveling around on the ice. You can’t be expected to know much about it, but you can be expected to look out for yourself as well as you know how, and to try hard not to make other people uncomfortable. I guess Joe was scared up good when he saw you go down, and I know I wasn’t a bit comfortable.”

“No,” said Jack, “I know you weren’t and I know it’s a good thing for you to talk to me in this way. Your talking doesn’t make me feel any worse than I feel already, and I hope I’ve learned a lesson, but, of course, I don’t know.”

“We all make mistakes every day,” said Hugh, “and it’s no ways likely that you’ve made your last; only, as I’ve told you before, try not to make the same mistake twice. If you do that it shows that you don’t learn anything.”

The rest of the way to camp passed without adventure, and when they reached the moraine above the cliff, they took off the ropes and scrambled down the rocks, when a short walk, and a slide by the boys down a long snow bank, brought them to the little stream by which the tent was pitched.

The sun hung low over the western mountain and all were hungry after their long walk, and they at once busied themselves getting supper.

As they sat around the fire, Hugh, who for some time had been smoking thoughtfully, said, “Well, boys, we’ve seen quite a lot of things up here on this patch of mountains, and time is passing. What do you say to turning around and going back? I’d surely like to stay up here longer, but we must remember that son here has got to get back East, and we have quite a little way to go before we strike the railroad. I reckon if we roll to-morrow morning we ought to be able to get down to the inlet by night. We can stop there for a day or two and hunt and fish a little, and then pull out for the Agency and from there go to Benton.”

“I suppose we’ve got to go before long, Hugh,” replied Jack. “I was counting up the days only the day before yesterday, and figured that we hadn’t much more time here in the mountains. I hate to go, but there’s nothing else to do, I suppose.

“It seems to me that each year I dislike more and more to go back. I’ve never had such good times as I’ve had with you. I think of them all winter when I’m back in New York; for about six months I think of the good time I had last year, and then for the other months I think of the good time I’m going to have next year. I hope we’ll have lots more of them.”

“Well,” said Jack, “you can still ride farther and do more than any man I ever saw, and I guess it will be a long time before you are laid up.”

The next morning Hugh roused the boys while it was still only gray dawn and sent them across the creek to bring in the horses, and by the time they returned breakfast had been cooked, the tent taken down and many of the packs made up, and an hour or two later the little train was retracing its steps toward the lower country.

As they started, Hugh said, “Of course, we could make quite a cut off in distance by going down on this side of the creek and I don’t believe we’d have much trouble, but then none of us have been over the ground. We might find some place where we couldn’t get the horses down easily, and worse than all, we might have trouble crossing the river. It’ll take us an hour or more longer perhaps to go around the way we came, but that way we know we can keep out of trouble, and that’s the way we better go.”

As they were passing through an open place, from which they could see the towering precipice of the great mountains across the creek, Joe remarked, “I think I see three bears.”

All stopped and looked in the direction in which he pointed, and there, sure enough, far up on the precipice above them, they saw one very large bear and two much smaller ones, industriously feeding below the ledges. They did not see the travelers, but were much too far off to be shot at. Joe asked Hugh at what he estimated the distance, and Hugh said, “Anywhere from six hundred yards to half a mile.”

Of course, Jack was strongly tempted to suggest that they should stop here and try to hunt the bears, but he knew that the prospect of getting them was small and so said nothing about it, and after watching the unconscious animals for a time, the train moved on.

THE travelers remained here for several days, climbing the mountains to hunt, fishing and leading a generally lazy life. The weather was bright and clear, with a warm sun, and these idle days were greatly enjoyed.

In some of the deep holes in the inlet were great schools of monster trout, to the capturing of which Jack gave much time. Crossing the inlet and going up on the flat to where the great river left the lakes, he found several places where he could cast his flies over the swift-running water, and from behind the great rocks over which the stream flowed in a deep smooth current he took some goodly fish.

Joe delighted to sit on the bank and watch the casting, for he said, “Jack, some day you’ll get one of those big fellows, and he’ll smash that little limber pole of yours all to pieces. That’s what I’m waiting for.”

It seemed to Jack a full hour before he had tired the fish sufficiently to tow it on its side into the shallow water of a little bay.

Joe, who had followed him in much excitement, went around and very cautiously approached the fish from the water and at last threw himself upon it and getting his fingers into its gills dragged it triumphantly ashore.

When it was fairly landed Jack was astonished at its size, for it seemed to him bigger than any Hudson River shad that he had seen, and when he took it to camp, Hugh, lifting it with one hand, declared that it weighed more than eight pounds.

They had all talked several times about starting for the Agency, but were reluctant to leave this charming spot, and still remained. One afternoon when Jack and Joe returned from fishing at the head of the inlet stream, they saw just below their own tent another, about which two or three men were moving. Moored to the shore of the inlet was a flat-bottomed boat by which the men had come, though Jack could not understand how they had pushed it up the swift stream to this point.

As they came to the border of the stream and were about to ride in, Jack said to Joe, “Do you know any of those men, Joe?”

“Yes,” said Joe, “two of them I know, that white man and the half-breed down by the water. The white man is John Williamson and the half-breed is Louis Legros. I don’t know that other big man.”

While supper was cooking, the neighboring tent grew more and more noisy. The men there were singing and shouting and sometimes giving Indian warwhoops, and once or twice the big man came out of the tent and, calling out, invited the three travelers to come over and have a drink with them, but they returned no answer to the invitation.

The sun was still an hour or two high, and Hugh, Jack and Joe were eating their supper, when suddenly a shot sounded from the neighboring tent and at the same time a chip flew from the front tent pole, showing that the ball must have passed three or four feet over their heads.

Hugh called out, “Be careful with your shooting irons over there. You came pretty near hitting one of us,” but the only reply was a volley of angry curses from the adjoining tent.

As Hugh walked up close, the big man began to abuse him violently and once or twice half raised his hand to point the revolver at him, but evidently thought better of it.

Meanwhile, the man’s two companions had come out of the tent, the white man laughing in a silly fashion and the half-breed more or less frightened and earnestly imploring his companion, whom he addressed as Tony, to come away.

The latter, however, seemed fascinated by Hugh, and no longer moved nor spoke, while Hugh took hold of his wrist, wrenched the revolver away from him and threw it on the ground, where Jack picked it up. Then turning Tony about, so that he faced his friends, Hugh said: “Now you three men break camp quick and get out of here. I won’t have you round any longer.”

Hugh’s speech seemed to break the spell under which the man had been laboring, for he raised his fist and struck at Hugh. Before the blow reached him, however, Hugh had thrown his arms about the big man just below the shoulders, pinioning both his arms to his sides.

Tony tried to free himself, but he could not. He struggled violently and then tried to kick, but Hugh stood firm, seeming to hold the man tighter and tighter to his chest, and in a moment Tony had forgotten all about fighting and was screaming with the pain of the pressure.

After a few seconds Tony was weeping and praying to be released, and promising to do anything he was told to if only he were set free. Hugh somewhat relaxed his embrace and said, “Now, you Williamson and you Louis, are you ready to go?”

“Yes, Hugh,” said the white man, “you bet we’ll go quick;” and Louis assented.

“Have you got any arms, any pistols or guns?” said Hugh.

“Yes,” said Williamson, “I’ve got my rifle here and Louis has a six shooter.”

“Well,” said Hugh, “bring ’em out and put ’em on the ground here, with all your ammunition, and we’ll take ’em into the Agency and leave them there for you.” Then, raising his voice a little, he called, “Boys, come over here.”

Jack and Joe came up and Hugh said, “Now, take these men’s guns and ammunition and carry them over to our tent and then come back.”

The men gave up their arms and cartridges, and the boys took them away and then returned.

“Now,” said Hugh, “take down that tent and get everything you’ve got into the boat. Now, Tony,” he said, addressing the man whom he held, “if I let you go, will you be quiet, and go and get into that boat and go away?”

“Go on,” said Hugh. “Go down to the boat and sit there,” and the man staggered off.

“Now,” said Hugh, “you men are drunk, both of you; and sometimes drunken men tell lies. I want to look through your baggage and see if you have any arms.”

He searched their blankets, but found nothing. Then he and the boys helped the three men take down their tent and carry their property down to the boat, and then before they pushed off, Hugh said, “Now, I know you’ve got some friends down here, Bloods, I think, and you may as well go down and camp with them, but don’t try to get the Indians to trouble us. You Williamson and you Louis, know me. This man here,” and he pointed to Tony, “does not.

“You two men know that I want trouble with no one, but you know also that I don’t mean to be imposed on by anyone. If I find any of you men lurking around my camp, I shall probably shoot you for horse thieves. As for your property that I’ve taken, I’ll leave it at the trader’s store, and you can get it when you come in. I suppose your whiskey is cached in the brush somewhere here, but you can get along without it for a day or two. We are going into the Agency pretty soon, and after we have gone you can come and get it, if you want to. Go now, and don’t let me see you again on this trip.”

Hugh loosened the painter from the old log to which it was tied, tossed it into the boat, and when Louis and Williamson had gotten out their oars, he put his foot against the bow and pushed the boat off into the swiftly running water.

Hugh walked slowly back toward their camp, the two boys following him, half awed and whispering to each other; for both were astonished at what seemed to be a new phase of Hugh’s character.

Hugh did not stop at the tent, but remarked that he was going out to look at the horses, and the two boys sat down by the fire.

“I tell you, Joe,” said Jack, “wasn’t it wonderful to see Hugh walk up to that man with the pistol and take it from him?”

“Sure,” said Joe, “it was fine, but then White Bull is not afraid of anything. That’s what people have said about him ever since I can remember.”

“And wasn’t it fine to see him take that big man and squeeze him until he yelled? I should have laughed myself to death if I hadn’t been so scared,” said Jack.

“Yes,” said Joe, “he must be powerful strong. I should have thought that that man could have eaten White Bull up in a minute. He must be powerful strong; I should hate to have him get angry with me.”

“That’s so,” said Joe, “I’ve seen that, too. I’ve seen him talk sometimes in a council of old men. Maybe they all think that something was the best thing to do, and then White Bull would get up and say that it seemed to him that something different ought to be done, and he’d talk a little while and presently one after another would stand up and say that he thought that White Bull was right; and then they’d all do just what he said.”

“Yes,” said Jack, “he’s a great man, and I believe if he’d lived back East, he would have been a mighty big man among the white people.”

“Well,” said Joe, “if he lived in an Indian camp, he could be the chief any time he wanted to.”

A little while before dusk Hugh came back and said, “Well, boys, I’ve tied up all the horses and I guess maybe to-morrow, if you like, we may as well start for the Agency. The fact is we couldn’t stay out here much longer anyhow, because if it came on to rain now, we’d all get wet, our tent has so many holes in it.”

Joe said nothing, but Jack shouted with laughter at Hugh’s mild jest, and said, “Tell me, Hugh, were you at all scared when you walked up to that man with his pistol in his hand?”

“But, good Lord, Hugh,” replied Jack, “he might have killed you.”

“Yes,” said Hugh, “perhaps he might if he had been sober and could have hit me, but I didn’t think that he’d try to shoot, and if he had I don’t believe he would have hit me.”

“Hugh,” said Jack, “do you know what I thought of when you were holding that man in your arms and he was yelling like a stuck pig?”

“No,” said Hugh, “I don’t.”

“I couldn’t help thinking about a story that Mr. Fannin told us when we were out in British Columbia, about how the bears used to come in and take a pig out of the pen and hold it in their arms and walk off on their hind legs, the pig squealing all the time.”

Hugh’s eye twinkled as he said, “I believe I do remember that story. So when you saw me holding Tony that way you took me for a bear and him for a pig, did you?”

“Well,” said Jack, “not that exactly, but it made me think of that. It seemed awfully funny for a minute, but I was too scared and too excited to laugh, although I wanted to.”

“Do you suppose those men will come back, White Bull?” asked Joe.

“You think there’s no danger, then?” said Jack, “that we’ll have trouble with them?”

“Not a particle,” said Hugh. “In the first place John Williamson hasn’t got the sand of a cotton-tail rabbit, Louis Legros is a good fellow, but foolish. Who that big man Tony is, I don’t know, but I reckon he may be Tony Beaulieu. He has a kind of a look of that Beaulieu gang. They’re good enough fellows when they’re sober, but mighty troublesome when they’re drunk.

“We’ll never have any further trouble with them; in fact, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they were to come up to us, the next time we see any of them, and say that they were sorry for what happened.”

It was early next morning when Hugh had the boys up and the start was made. The sun was little more than an hour high when they stopped at the wagon, gathered their property together and loaded it, and set out for the lower end of the lower lake, intending to follow the wagon road up to the Duck Lake Hill, for this would be easier on the horses than the steep pull up the hill they had come down in approaching the lake.

The drive down the lake was slow, for they crossed many ravines and little streams, and in some places the road was very muddy. At length, however, they came out on the flat near where the river leaves the lake, and looking across the stream saw a camp of thirty or forty lodges.

“Do you know who these people are, Joe?” inquired Hugh.

“No,” replied Joe, “I don’t; I don’t think they are our people. Maybe they’re Bloods; often they come down to this side after they’ve got their payment from the Government up North. They like to buy things on this side of the line.”

“Well,” said Hugh, “we’ll know pretty quick, for there’s a lot of them starting across the river, or I miss my guess.”

Sure enough, twenty-five or thirty men came out of the lodges and, jumping on their horses, galloped down to the fording place.

The road up the Duck Lake Hill starts not far above where the ford comes out of the river, so that Hugh and his party had to keep on down the stream until they had almost reached the ford, and by that time the hurrying crowd of Indians had ridden up on the bank and presently surrounded them and stopped the team.

They were quite noisy, some of them yelping in pure fun and high spirits, others shouting aloud in tones that seemed to show anger.

When they got about the wagon, Hugh pulled up his team and sat there looking and listening, trying to make out what they wanted.

Jack could understand a few words of what was being said, but in the confusion could not catch its drift, and looked inquiringly at Joe, who he thought wore a very solemn face.

During the colloquy that followed, he was in the dark as to what the trouble was, but it was afterwards explained to him.

After the noise made by the Indians had somewhat subsided, one of the men pushed his horse to the front, and coming close to Hugh, said to him, “Where is the whiskey?”

Hugh replied, “What whiskey?”

“You know,” said the Indian; “the whiskey you took from those men up the lake. We know all about it; that you drove them from their camp and kept the whiskey, and now you are taking it away with you, but you shall not do that. That whiskey was brought here for us and we are going to have it; so give it to us now, or we will take it from you.”

“Look here, my friend,” said Hugh, “you talk like a child. I took no whiskey from those men and I have none with me, and I shall give you none. It is true that we had trouble with these men yesterday and that I sent them away from our camp, but I took no whiskey from them, and if I had done so, I should not give it to you.

“Why do you come over here to make trouble with people on this side of the line? Do you think that you can do over here what you dare not do over there? You know very well that if you were to act like this to any white man on your side of the line, the Red Coats would soon take you and put you in the jail, perhaps with irons on your feet. You have lived years enough to know better than to act so as to get your young men into trouble.

“Listen to me, my friends,” he said in a louder voice, addressing all the Indians, although most of them were near enough to have heard his conversation with Wolf Collar, “I have just told your leader that I have no liquor with me, and that if I had I should not give it to you; but I have with me here a boy of your own race, a Piegan, who knows what took place last night, and he can tell you, if you do not believe me. Speak to them, Joe,” he said, “and tell them what happened last night.”

Joe began to tell the story of the trouble of the evening before, but before he had said many words, the party was joined by a late comer, who rode up from the river and close to the wagon, crowding his horse through those of the young men, and occasionally, if a horse did not make way for him, striking it fiercely with the quirt, but all the Indians who saw him got out of his way at once.

“Why, hello, Calf Robe,” said Hugh. “I didn’t stop here willingly, but your young men got in my way, and crowded about me, and asked me for whiskey, which I have not got, and which, if I had, I would not give to them. They get too much whiskey now.”

“Why do they ask you for whiskey since all who know you know that you do not drink whiskey, any more than you try to make others drink it?”

“I don’t know,” said Hugh, “but I reckon some of them have seen this morning some whiskey traders up the lake, and they have told the Indians that I took their whiskey.”

“Truly,” said Calf Robe, “these Indians are fools, and will believe any lies that the white men choose to tell them.”

His evil face worked a little, and then, turning an angry glance on Wolf Collar, he said to him, “Go now, go all of you to the camp quickly. After this know better than to trouble this man with your crazy talk. Go, I say,” he repeated fiercely, and striking his horse with his quirt it carried him with a bound close to Wolf Collar, whom he lashed savagely over the head and shoulders.

“Now, my friend, go your way,” said Calf Robe. “No one will trouble you.”

“No,” said Hugh, “I think not—when Calf Robe is about,” and chirping to his horses, they began to climb the hill.

During the whole ascent Jack was eagerly cross-questioning Joe as to what the matter had been, what had happened and what had been said. Joe explained everything at great length and wound up his talk by saying, “Calf Robe is a great man. All his people fear him.”

“Well,” said Jack, “from the way he rode at them and lashed them, he was not afraid of any of them. How he quirted Wolf Collar!”

“He does not know fear. He had a father and a grandfather who were like him; I don’t mean to say that they looked like him, but they were big men, and when they told people to do anything, they did it quick,” replied Joe.

“I have heard lots about Calf Shirt and about Bull Back Fat. They were great men. Running Rabbit, who lives in our camp, is also one of his relations, and he, too, is a great man. You know he used to be head war chief of the Bloods.”

“No, I didn’t know that,” said Jack. “That little kind man used to be head war chief of the Bloods? I never supposed that he did anything except sit around and tell funny stories and make jokes. It’s hard to believe that he was a great warrior.”

“Oh, yes,” answered Joe, “one of the greatest of warriors.”

From Duck Lake they kept on to the Agency, which was reached without incident four days later.

The morning after their arrival while Jack was dressing preparatory to starting off to the railroad, Joe burst into the room, calling to him to hurry up and get out, for many horses had been stolen during the night.

The flat in front of the Agency was the scene of great excitement and confusion. Old men were haranguing in loud tones and women were singing strong-heart songs to encourage their relatives about to start off in pursuit of the enemy. Men were galloping to and fro, trying to borrow swift horses or arms, with which to make the chase. Every now and then a man would come in from the east, reporting success or failure in the search for the trail of the robbers.

At last one man came who had followed the trail so far that the direction which the thieves would take was pretty well known, and presently a large body of horsemen, armed with rifles, bows and arrows, and lances, started off down the creek, riding with a certain air of dignity until they had gone some distance from the stockade, and then breaking into a faster run.

“Well, Joe,” asked Hugh, “are our horses all right?”

“Well,” said Hugh, “that’s mighty good. Now you go and hitch up, and we’ll say good-by to the Major and Bruce here, and then we’ll roll.”