Some weeks passed. The work of the ranch went on. Jack was now becoming a useful member of the society there, for he had come to feel so much at home that there were many things that he could do about the place. Every day he gained more confidence in himself and it was no longer thought necessary that he should have some one with him when he rode out away from the ranch on the prairie. One night his uncle had suggested that he should go out and bring in the milk cows, and he did so, and after this it became his regular duty to look for them, if they did not come up to the corral to be milked at night. A little later Joe had asked him one morning to go out and bring in the saddle horses, which were feeding high up in the mountain, but could be seen from the house. He did so, and after a few days this became a part of his regular work. For such riding as this he did not use Pawnee, but rode, instead, old Grey, or the Pilot, or any one of three or four other gentle horses that were always close about the ranch. He remembered Hugh's advice, given to him soon after he had come out, and always carried his gun with him. During these rides he had killed two coyotes and a badger, the skins of which he had taken off and stretched quite nicely, under Hugh's direction. He had had two or three chances to shoot antelope, too, but always close to the house, and so he had not fired at them, for Mr. Sturgis liked to see these wild creatures of the prairie near the ranch, and had asked that no hunting be done close at home. Jack had tended his live stock, and his ducks were now quite large and full feathered birds, and were very tame, and pretty well able to take care of themselves. When they were still little bits of fluffy things, Hugh had advised him to cut off the tip of one wing from each, and he had done so. The birds, therefore, could not fly, and wandered about on foot, feeding with the hens and dabbling in the brook. Hugh warned him that he would have to look out for them when the weather got cool, or else they might start off to go south on foot, and if they ever wandered off on the prairie the coyotes would surely pick them up at once. The calf elk had grown very large, and was annoyingly tame. It was sure to be where it was not wanted, and Mrs. Carter once declared to Jack that she wished some one would kill the little brute, for if she left the kitchen door open it would go in, and put its nose into every dish in the place.

Although he had many things to do, they did not take up all Jack's time. He spent many hours lying on the hills, watching the beasts and the birds and the insects, and this seemed to him better fun than anything about the ranch, except the long talks that he had with Hugh, whose stories of old times were always interesting. He had gotten down his uncle's bird book from the shelf in the sitting-room, and had learned the names of many birds of the prairie, and from Hugh he had learned also how the larger beasts and birds lived, and what they did in summer and autumn and winter and spring.

One evening as Hugh and Jack were sitting on the steps of the bunk-house, watching the lengthening shadows of the mountains creep further and further out over the prairie, Hugh said to Jack:

"Son, your uncle wants me to go off and get a horse load of meat, and I am thinking of going over to Smith's Hole, to see if I can't kill a couple of blacktail bucks; they ought to be getting pretty fat by this time. I expect I'll have to be gone two or three days, and I thought maybe you'd like to go, if you can get Joe and Rube to look after your live stock. What do you say?"

"Oh, Hugh," said Jack, "that would be fine. Do you know, I have been out here now nearly four months and I've never slept out of doors yet. I don't know what a camp is. I'd love to go over there with you, and it would be splendid to see these deer. You see, I have never seen a deer since I have been here."

"Well," said Hugh, "I expected maybe you'd like to go, and I'd surely like to have you come. We'll speak to your uncle about it. I expect we'd better start day after to-morrow, because I've got to look over them pack riggings, and see if they're all in order. I expect we'd better take two pack horses. We won't have much of anything to carry going, besides our beds, but if we get two or three deer, the horses will both have loads coming back, and I'd rather lead a pack horse than walk and lead my own horse loaded with meat."

Mr. Sturgis was quite willing that Jack should go. The following day was devoted to putting in order the pack saddles, blankets and necessary ropes, and the morning after, they started.

Hugh rode old Baldy, and Jack, Pawnee. One of the pack horses had nothing on his saddle, while the other carried the blankets, their few cooking utensils and provisions. Hugh and Rube put the load on the pack horse, and threw ropes about it and pulled them tight in a very short time, but although Jack watched closely, he had no idea how the ropes went over the load, nor why they held it fast. When they were ready, Hugh mounted, and, taking the rope of the pack horse, started on, while Jack followed, leading the unloaded animal.

Half the morning had passed without a word having been exchanged between the two riders, when Hugh, halting in a sheltered spot out of the wind, dismounted, threw down his rope and his bridle rein, and felt in his pocket for his pipe. "'Light down," he said to Jack, as he came up, "and let the horses rest a while. I want to smoke."

Jack was quite willing to do so, for he felt as if his right arm would soon be pulled out of the socket, with the labour of dragging the lazy pack horse.

"What's the matter with you?" continued Hugh. "Arm tired?"

"Yes," said Jack, "that horse pulls back so he nearly drags me out of the saddle."

"Sho!" said Hugh. "You ought to put a hackamore on him, and then pass the rope under your leg and take a turn of it round the saddle horn. If he pulls back then, it cuts off his wind, and he won't do it very long."

"I'll do it," said Jack; "wish I'd thought of it before. I'd almost made up my mind to turn him loose and drive him."

"We'll do that after we get a little further," said Hugh. "We can't drive that horse you're leading yet awhile, he'd keep trying to turn back and go home, and make us more trouble than it is to lead him."

"Hugh, I wish you'd tell me how you tied that load on this morning," said Jack. "It seems to be firm, and yet I should think the ropes would come loose and you'd have to tie it up every little while."

"Well," said Hugh, "that's something you've got to learn, of course, packing; it's a regular trade, and when you know how to do it right, your load stays on your horse; if you don't know how to do it, your load comes loose and makes you trouble from the time you start in the morning till you get into camp at night. I calculated that that would be one of the things you'd learn something about on this trip. You see, it takes two to pack a horse; one man on the nigh side and one on the off side. Now, we'll probably get into camp early to-night, and have a chance to look round a little bit and see if there's any deer in the hills right close to where we camp, and if there ain't, we'll move on five or six miles further to-morrow, and then I'll give you your first lesson in packing. Let's look at this load now;" and he rose to his feet. They went up to the pack horse, and Hugh, taking Jack in front of it, told him to look at the two loads that hung on either side of the animal. "You see," he said, "they just balance each other, and that is the main secret of packing, to put the loads on the two sides of the horse so that each pulls against the other. If either one is heavier than the other, it is pulling down all the time upon its side, and makes the saddle and everything swing over that way; that tends to loosen the ropes, and is likely to make the horse's back sore besides. You'll notice that when I make up the side packs to-morrow morning, I'll weigh them in my hands, and if I find that one is lighter than the other, I'll put something into it to make the weights even. But I can tell you more in five minutes by showing you, than I can in an hour by talking, so let's move on; but first we'll make a hackamore for that horse of yours."

Hugh showed Jack how to fix his rope around the horse's head and nose, so that it made a sort of headstall for it, like a halter; then when Jack mounted, he passed the rope under his leg, took a couple of turns around the saddle, and the pack animal, after pulling back once or twice, gave it up and followed readily enough close to Pawnee's hips.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon when, after passing over some low hills, they rode down to a little spring, near which stood a grove of small cottonwoods. Beyond was a great stretch of rough, broken, bad land country where there seemed to be no grass, and which looked like a jumble of steep naked hills, separated by deep ravines.

"That's the Hole," said Hugh, "and it's a terrible good hunting-ground for deer and elk in winter."

"Why," said Jack, "it doesn't look to me as if there were grass enough there to feed a jack rabbit, let alone an elk."

"Well," said Hugh, "that's so; it does look pretty barren, but there's lots of feed there, all the same. There's little fine grass grows on them hills, and the wind keeps them always bare through the winter. Besides that, it's a heap sight warmer over here than it is on the prairie, close to the house. You wouldn't think there'd be much difference, but there's lots. Then, down in the bottom of these ravines there's worlds of good feed. It's a great wintering place for the elk and the deer that summers over on the mountains back of the house."

They stopped their horses on a little level spot, close to the trees, and dismounted there.

"Throw down your bridle rein, son," said Hugh, "and come and help me take off this pack. Whenever you're travelling with a pack train, and stop to camp, the first thing is to take off the packs, and after the pack animals have all been attended to, you can unsaddle your own horse. Now, look here!"

Jack went up to Hugh, who was standing on the nigh side of the loaded pack horse, and saw him untie the end of the rope from the cinch, and throw it off the load in front.

"Now," said Hugh, "you go around to the off side and loosen up that rope, so that I can get it off this side."

Jack did so; first pulling at two or three different parts of the rope, and as he pulled at each, Hugh called: "No." At last he pulled on a rope which came easily to him, and as the part slacked toward him, the rope dropped off the forward corner of the pack.

"Now," said Hugh, "take it off the hinder corner;" and when Jack took hold of the rope about the hinder corner, it was loose and slipped off. Hugh pulled the slack toward him and freed the pack on his side, and then threw the big rope off the horse. "Now," he said, "stand under that bundle and let it down easy when I untie the swings;" and in a moment more the bundle dropped into Jack's arms and he put it on the ground.

They unsaddled all the horses and picketed them out. Hugh put the saddles and all their camp furniture in the brush, saying: "We won't make camp until we come back. Let's go out now and see what the prospect is for game."

Hugh and Jack walked a quarter of a mile down the ravine, at whose head they had left the horses, without seeing any sign of game. Then, clambering up the steep bank to the north, they crossed a hill and entered another ravine. Jack saw that there was good grass in the narrow bottoms of these water-courses, as Hugh had said, and in almost each one of several that they crossed a little stream flowed. The sun was getting low and the air cooler, when, as they topped one of these hills to descend into another ravine Hugh stopped, made a motion of warning with his hand, and then, slowly lowered his head and backed away from the ridge.

"There's two deer just below us, feeding in the creek bottom, and I believe they're near enough to the ridge to shoot. We'll go round about opposite them and take a look and see what the chances are. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if we could get a good shot at them."

"How far below us are they, Hugh?" said Jack. "Not more than a hundred yards," was the reply. "I think we can see them from the ridge, and get one, or maybe both of them. But, now there's one thing I want to say to you: look out you don't over-shoot. When a man's shooting downhill, the way we may have to do from here, he's terrible likely to draw his sight too coarse, and to shoot too high. If you get a chance to shoot, draw your sight down just as fine as you can, and hold low down on the animal. It is better to shoot under than it is to shoot over, anyhow; don't forget this."

They walked briskly along, and in a very few moments Hugh said, "Hold on now; I'll go up and take a look." He did so, cautiously peering over the ridge, with bared head, and then, bending down, he motioned Jack to his side.

"They're right there," he whispered, "and it's an easy shot. You take the big buck and I'll try the little fellow when he runs. Remember now, hold low and steady. If the deer is standing with his tail toward you, aim about for his loin, and try to break his back."

They crept forward on hands and knees, and not until they had reached the very crown of the hill did they raise their heads. Then they saw the wished-for game, two fine mule deer bucks, busily feeding on the green grass that grew near the stream. They were graceful creatures, one of them much larger than the other and with a fine head of horns; the other had small horns and was evidently young. Their ears were very large, and their tails, which were white, all except a black tip, were constantly in motion. Both deer stood broadside on; the larger one somewhat in advance of the other.

"You shoot first," said Hugh. "Take the big one, and remember, hold low."

Jack put his rifle to his shoulder, feeling as cool and steady as ever he did in his life, and aiming just behind the big buck's elbow, fired, and the deer dropped in his tracks. The little fellow made one or two jumps, and then stood looking, when Hugh's ball pierced his breast, and he too fell to the ground.

"Well," said Hugh, "that's a good job, son. If I'd thought we were going to get meat so quick, I'd a fetched a pack horse along, but I didn't much think we would. So I'll go down and butcher them deer, and you go back to camp and put a pack saddle on one of the pack horses and fetch it over here. Mind you take the saddle and the blanket and the lash rope that goes together; don't mix up the riggings. You'd better bring the pack horse you led; it hasn't had nothing to do all day except to pack its saddle, and it might as well work for its grub now. You can't see the camp from here, but I don't expect there's any danger of your losing your way. You know we crossed four of these gulches coming, and when you get to the fifth you want to turn to your right and follow up the creek, and soon you'll come in sight of the camp. Keep the sun on your right hand all the time. Do you think you can do it?"

"Oh, I guess so, Hugh," said Jack; "now that you've told me how many ravines we crossed; I didn't notice, myself, I only knew we'd crossed a number of them."

"Well," said Hugh, "you've got to learn to take notice of just them things, if you're going to be a prairie man. Now mind, if you should not be able to find your way to camp, and think you're lost, don't keep on travelling; just climb up to the top of the nearest hill and set there, and before night you'll see or hear me. But I don't expect but what you'll find your way back to camp all right."

Hugh went on downhill toward the deer, and Jack set out on his return to camp. He kept count of the ravines as he crossed them, and when he came to the fifth, looked around to see if there was anything there that he could recognise. It all looked strange to him, but he turned to his right and followed the stream up, and, before he had gone very far, he noticed a clump of willows that he remembered they had passed soon after leaving camp. A few steps beyond this a grove of trees appeared, and a moment later he saw the horses. "Now, the question is," he said to himself, as he hurried toward camp, "can I find my way back to Hugh? I'll try hard, anyhow."

He loosened the pack horse from its picket pin, led it to the saddles, and choosing the right rigging, saddled the animal and tied the lash rope to the saddle. It was the first time he had ever put a pack saddle on a horse, and he did not feel sure that he had done it right, but he spent little time over it, thinking that the important thing now was to get the horse to Hugh, so that they could bring their meat to camp before the sun set. He found his way back without difficulty to the place they had shot from, and from there saw Hugh, who had finished butchering, smoking his pipe by the two carcasses. When Jack reached him, Hugh said, "Well, you didn't have no trouble, did you?"

"Not a bit," said Jack. "I'd a notion at one time that maybe I was lost, for the ravine that we came down looked strange to me on my way back, but I followed it up and got to camp all right."

"Well," said Hugh, "it's a mighty good plan, when you're going along in a strange country, to stop every now and then and take a look behind you, and see how the country looks after you pass through it. Of course as you go along you see how things look ahead of you, but sometimes they look mighty different from the other side. I'd ought to have spoken to you about that before. Say," he continued, as he rose to his feet and looked at the pack horse, "who saddled that horse?"

"Why, I did, of course," answered Jack; "what's the matter with it? I kind o' felt as if there was something wrong when I started, but I was in a rush to get back here, and so hurried along without stopping to think about it."

"Well," said Hugh, "there is something wrong, but we ain't got time now to let you find out what it is. Don't you see you've got the saddle on hind side before? You must have cinched the horse up from the off side instead of from the near."

"Of course," said Jack, "I see it now. That must be what made it seem so queer when I was saddling; but you see, both ends of the pack saddle look alike. I don't think I would have made that mistake with a riding saddle."

"No, I expect not," said Hugh, "if you had, you'd probably have found it out when you tried to mount. Now, I'll put this saddle on right and then we'll take these deer to camp as quick as we can. The sun will be down before long, and we want daylight to cook supper and spread our beds by."

They packed the two deer on the horse. Hugh did most of the work of packing, but Jack helped now and then by holding up the load on one side, and pulling a rope or two. As they drew near the camp Hugh said, "We've got lots of daylight yet and can make a nice camp here, and to-morrow morning we'll hunt a little way on horseback. We don't want to have too good luck right at the start, if we do we'll have to go back home again too soon."

Hugh hung up the two deer to the branches of a tree, and then told Jack to go down to the stream and dip up a bucket of water, while he would gather wood and start the supper. By the time the water had been brought, the fire was blazing, and Hugh had their small mess box open on the ground and had taken from it a little piece of bacon, the coffee and sugar in the two cans, and a sack which contained several loaves of bread.

"Now, you see," he said, "we're in luck this trip, for Mrs. Carter gave us a sack full of bread, so we won't have to bake none while we're out. All we've got to do now is to fry a little meat and cook a cup of coffee, and our supper's ready. You fill that coffee kettle with water and set it on to boil while I cut some of that fat deer meat." By the time the water was boiling, fat ribs of one of the deer were sizzling in the frying-pan, giving out an odour that made Jack feel very hungry. Hugh put the coffee into the hot water, let it boil for two or three minutes, then stood it off the fire but close to it, where it would keep warm, and told Jack to cut some slices of bread. When he had done this, Hugh told him to set the table, which made Jack look rather blank, for he did not know precisely what Hugh meant, but he laid out two of the tin plates, two cups, and for each a knife, fork and spoon, and Hugh nodded, as much as to say that this was right. The deer meat, the bread and the hot coffee, with plenty of sugar in it, seemed to Jack to make about the best meal that he had ever tasted.

When they had finished eating, Hugh said, "Now, let's unroll our beds and get ready to sleep, and then we won't have anything more to do except to sit by the fire here until we get sleepy." He pointed out to Jack a good place for his bed, where the grass was smooth and there were no stones or roots or bits of stick lying on the ground, and the bed was soon unrolled and ready for occupancy. Hugh made his own bed and then returned to the fire and again lit his pipe.

The sun had set, and the air was so cool as to make the warmth of the fire very pleasant. Jack lay down by it and stretched out his legs in the comfortable heat. "Better put your coat on, son," said Hugh; "it gets cool mighty fast after the sun goes down. It's good for you to keep right warm until you turn into your blankets. If you go to bed feeling chilly, it's liable to take you a long time to go to sleep."

Jack followed this advice, and after putting on his coat lay down again by the fire, for he was tired and a little bit sleepy. "Tell me something about these deer that we killed, Hugh," he said; "they don't look like any of the deer that I ever saw in Central Park; their ears are big, and their tails are different. Are these the regular deer that we have in the east?"

"I expect not," said Hugh; "these are what we call blacktails out here. You took notice, I expect, that the tips of their tails were black; I guess that's what gives them the name. They've got another name, though. I have heard your uncle call them mule deer, and he says that that name comes from their having such big ears. They've got sure enough big ears, all right, and I guess that's a pretty good name for 'em. I have heard him say that 'way over west, toward the coast, there's another kind of deer that's the real blacktail; it's got a big tail that's black all over. These deer here are good meat, but they're a kind of a fool animal, after all. Sometimes if you shoot one, the others with it will just kind of jump round, looking to see where the noise comes from; they don't seem to have sense enough to run away; but I expect that don't mean much except that they haven't been hunted. I've seen elk and mountain sheep do the same thing, and of course buffalo will stand and let you shoot at them as long as you want to. 'Pears to me always as if deer and elk didn't depend much on their eyes. If a man keeps right still they don't seem to see him; or, anyway, they ain't afraid of him; but if they once get a smell of him, they don't wait to ask no questions, but just light out of the country.

"You killed that deer mighty well, son," he went on, "you're getting to be steady as anybody need be. I wondered, when you drew up to shoot, whether you'd have any trouble catching your sight. I thought maybe you would, because this was the first deer you'd shot at; but you didn't seem to be a mite flustered."

"No," said Jack, "I didn't feel excited. Of course I wanted to kill the deer, but I was thinking hard about what you had told me of the danger of over-shooting. I don't believe I thought of anything else."

They were sitting by the fire, not talking, when suddenly from the hills to the north, sounded a series of frightful yells and howls, which made Jack sit up very straight. "What in the world's that, Hugh?" he said, seeing that Hugh had not changed his position nor apparently heard this dreadful noise.

"That yelling?" said Hugh. "Why I forgot that you'd never been in camp before. Now, what do you expect that is?"

"Why, I don't know," said Jack; "it sounded like a lot of demons fighting."

"Well, I'll tell you what it is," said Hugh, "it's just some miserable coyote that's found the place where we butchered them deer, and is telling all the other coyotes about it."

"But, Hugh," said Jack, "there must be at least a hundred there, from the noise they make."

"Not so," said Hugh; "I don't believe there's more than one. I told you the other day that one of them woodchucks could make more noise for its size than any beast I knew; but when I said that, I expect I must have forgot the coyote. Sometimes if two or three get together and howl, you'd think there was a thousand. They'd be a terrible beast to hear at night if one was anyway scary."

"I should think so," said Jack; "I didn't know what was going to happen when I heard that fellow begin just now."

"Well," said Hugh, "he and his partners will have a good feast to-night; but I expect you're getting sleepy, and we want to be up with the sun to-morrow, so maybe we might as well turn in now."

"All right, Hugh, I am getting sleepy and I guess I'd like to go to bed."

"Say we do," said Hugh. "One thing I'll tell ye, seeing that you've never slept out of doors before; when you go to bed, take off your coat, your pants and your shoes; the less a man has on him when he is in bed the better he rests."

Hugh filled his pipe again and put some more wood on the fire, which blazed up brightly; and Jack, sitting on the edge of his bed, began to undress.

"Put your shoes and the clothes that you take off under the head of your bed," said Hugh, "then, if it should come on to rain or snow during the night, they won't get wet. You've got a lot of little odds and ends of things to learn about being in camp, and I want to tell you all of them that I can think of, because if you know them you'll be a heap more comfortable than you will if you don't."

Before long, Jack was snugly wrapped in his blankets, watching the flickering fire and the bright stars that shone out of the black sky above him. Presently Hugh turned into his blankets, and the fire went down.

Jack had been sleepy when he went to bed, but now he felt wakeful. He could hear queer little things moving about in the grass close to his head; the leaves of the trees rustled in the gentle breeze; the horses cropped the grass and walked about not far off, and each one of these sounds seemed loud to him. Every now and then there would be a burst of howling from the hills, and altogether, Jack felt strange. But soon he slept.

"Wake up, son, it's getting toward morning, and I want to get started. Levez, as the Frenchmen say up north."

Jack opened his eyes very slowly, and pushed the blankets down from his head and saw the bright light of the fire and Hugh moving about it; but the stars still shone brightly from the black sky above, and there was nothing to show that it was not the middle of the night.

"Is it time to get up, Hugh?" Jack asked; "I'm awful sleepy."

"Yes, you've got to get up if you're going hunting with me. If you'd rather, you can lie in your blankets till the sun gets up, but you can't hunt if you do that," was the reply.

Jack pushed down the blankets, but the air was cold, and he hated to get up.

"Put on your shoes," said Hugh, "and come over and dress here by the fire where it's warm. The nights are getting mighty cool now, and I expect you feel it."

"Isn't it cold, though," said Jack, as he drew on his shoes, and with his clothes in his arms ran over to the fire. "This is nice and warm, isn't it?"

"Well, you've got to hurry up now and dress; breakfast is near ready."

Jack saw that meat was sputtering in the frying pan, and that the coffee-pot was standing by the fire, and hurried into his clothes.

"Now," said Hugh, "I expect you want to wash your face. Hold your hands and I'll pour." He dipped a cup into the bucket of water, and, while Jack held his hands together, poured a tiny stream into them, while the boy washed his hands and face.

"Well," said Jack, "that's a new kind of a wash basin to me."

"Is it?" said Hugh. "Well, it saves you washing in the dark down by the spring. You may as well go down there though and get a bucket of fresh water, and we'll heat that while we're eating, so that we can wash up the dishes before we start."

Jack did as he was bade, and by the time he had returned with the water, Hugh had taken the food off the fire, and they began their breakfast. After the meal was over Jack went out and brought in the saddle horses, while Hugh was washing up the dishes, and after saddling his own, rolled up his bed and was ready to start. A few moments later, Hugh was in the saddle, and they rode off over the prairie, nearly in the direction that they had gone the night before, but keeping away from the Hole, so as to go around the heads of all the ravines.

"I wanted to get out early," said Hugh, "so's to go over here a couple of miles and get up on top of a high hill by sunrise. From there we can see a long distance, and if there's any deer feeding, we can see them and figure how to get up to them."

It was still dark, but now in the east there was a streak of pale light along the horizon, and the stars above it were growing dim. They galloped briskly along over the dark prairie, now and then hearing a rush of feet and the stamping and blowing of antelope which they had started. Before they reached the hill of which Hugh had spoken the dawn was fairly upon them, and the eastern sky was red. They left their horses in a little hollow, and on foot climbed to the top of the hill, but it was not yet light enough for them to see very much. Before long, however, the limb of the sun appeared over the eastern horizon, and at once the air seemed to clear, and they could see a long distance.

"Oh, look at that, Hugh," said Jack, pointing north-west, "there's a big animal out there, and a little one near it. What are they? Why I believe that's an elk."

Hugh looked in the direction to which Jack pointed, and said: "Yes, that's an elk all right, and a calf with her; we don't want anything of her. I don't see exactly what she's doing down here on the prairie with that little calf; she ought to be up in the hills. There's four antelope right close, almost within gunshot; but we don't want antelope either. What we came after is deer; and there they are," he continued, pointing toward the Hole, where, in a depression at the head of a ravine, three dark coloured animals were feeding. They were a long way off, and Jack could not tell whether they had horns or not; in fact, he would not have known what they were, but he saw that they were not elk nor antelope; their colour told him so much. They could not be wolves, for they stood too high on their legs, and had no tails that he could see; so it seemed certain that they must be deer, or some other animal that he had not seen.

"What had we better do, Hugh?" he said; "do you think we can get up to them?"

"Yes," said Hugh, "there won't be no trouble about that, but what I'd like to know now is, which way this wind is going to blow. The easiest way to get at them is to go around north of them. I think that ridge would bring us within shot, but if the wind starts up to blow from the west or north or north-west, they'd sure smell us, and we wouldn't get no shot. I'd rather set here a spell and see what the wind is goin' to do. They'll feed for two hours, maybe three, yet before they lie down. Let's just keep our eye on 'em and see how they act."

Hugh filled his pipe and smoked, and waited for the wind. For some time this did not come, and the smoke from his pipe went straight upward. Presently, however, a gentle air from the north-west carried away a big puff of smoke, and then it was calm once more. But soon the breeze began to blow very gently from the north-west, and Hugh, as he finished his pipe and knocked the ashes out from it, said:

"Well, I thought that was likely the way it would act. Now, we've got to go round them deer and try to get up on them from toward the Hole."

They mounted and rode briskly back the way they had come, for some little distance, and then, turning east, toward the rim of the Hole, went more slowly. When they reached the edge of the prairie, from which they could look down on the broken bad lands, where they had been the evening before, they followed the rim north, keeping a sharp look-out ahead for any possible game that might start there, and also watching closely the ravines which ran down into the Hole.

At length Hugh said: "'Pears to me that we ought to be pretty close to where them deer is. Let's go slow and careful now, and look the ground over."

The next two ridges were passed very cautiously, but on reaching the summit of the third, Hugh dropped his head and said, "There they are; we're too far down. Let's take our horses back to the next ravine, and come up here and watch the deer. They'll likely work this way before very long."

After they had left their horses, Hugh took Jack up to the crest of the hill and pointed out the deer to him. They were feeding on a hillside, a quarter of a mile away, but their heads were pointed toward the Hole, and Hugh felt sure that with a little patience they would get a shot. They sat there waiting, for more than an hour, while the deer fed about, almost in the same place. At last the biggest of them raised his head and took a long look down the ravine, and then one to either side; then he started, walking slowly toward the Hole. The other two did not seem to pay any attention to him, but after the leader had gone fifty or seventy-five yards, one of the others stopped feeding and trotted after him, and these two walked along together, directly toward the hunters. The third deer remained where he was; he had evidently found something that he greatly liked and did not intend to leave it; but at last, finding that he was being deserted, he too raised his head and trotted after the others. He had not come up with them when they passed within seventy-five yards of the hunters, and Hugh said:

"Raise up now and kill the big one. I'll stop him, and as soon as he stops, you shoot."

Jack slowly raised himself, and resting his left elbow on his knee, aimed at the leading buck. The other deer was walking by the big buck's side.

As Jack brought his rifle to his shoulder, Hugh bleated, in imitation of a fawn, and both deer stopped and turned their heads toward him.

"Now," said Hugh. And as Jack's rifle sounded, both deer fell to the ground. Hugh said, "Slip another cartridge in quick; that other fellow may get up and run off;" and they started down toward the fallen animals. The third deer turned, bounded gracefully up the hill, paused for a moment on its crest to look, and then disappeared.

"But Hugh," said Jack, as he hurried down the hill, "what made the other deer fall; did I hit both? I couldn't have done that for I only aimed at one."

"Well, son," said Hugh, "it looks to me as if your ball went through the big deer and killed the little one too; but we'll soon know."

In a moment they stood by the deer, and Hugh, seizing the smaller one by one of its horns, thrust his knife into its chest.

"Well," said he, "we've got him anyhow." Then he bled the other deer, and then they looked for the bullet holes.

It was as Hugh had said, Jack had not remembered what Hugh had told him the night before about aiming low when he was shooting downhill, and had hit the big buck a little higher up than he had intended, but low enough to kill him. The ball had passed between the ribs, out on the other side, and had passed through the heart of the further deer.

"That's a pretty lucky shot," said Hugh; "you might hunt a good many years and not do that over again. You've beaten me all hollow this trip, and have killed three times as many deer as I have. I expect you're what I call a lucky hunter, and if you only keep on trying hard, and don't get to feeling too big about your good luck, you'll do well right along."

"I'm surely going to try hard, Hugh. I don't think I have done anything very bad since that first day when I tried to hunt antelope alone. I think I learned a heap that day, and I have been glad a good many times since that I didn't kill those first antelope."

"That's right," said Hugh; "I believe that was an awful good lesson for you, and I hope you'll always remember it. I ain't a mite uneasy but what you'll always do well in your hunting, for you're mighty cool headed. I have hunted with a heap of men that couldn't stand it to see game. Seems like whenever they saw an animal standing near 'em, they just got crazy right off. Why, I have seen men that would tremble and shake like they had the ague, if they had a chance like you had just now. Well," he went on, "I believe we might as well butcher, and then start back and pack up our camp. We'll put one deer on one of the pack horses and then bring the whole outfit over here and pack the other three deer on the other horse. We've got all the meat we want, and we can start now and get back to the ranch by night. I did expect to be gone three or four days but we've had such terrible fine luck that we've got all the meat we need, and it's no use stopping. If we do we're likely to kill something more, and we haven't got no way to pack it."

The work of butchering the deer did not take long; they dragged the carcasses a little way up the hill, turned them over to drain, and left them lying on the prairie. Twenty minutes' ride brought them to the camp, where the pack horses were soon saddled. The beds and the mess outfit were put on one of them, and here Hugh gave Jack his first lesson in packing, showing him how the bundles were put on in the swing ropes, and then how the diamond hitch was thrown. After half a dozen trials, Jack thought he understood how the rope should go, and which ones the packer on either side should pull.

"That's enough for one lesson," said Hugh; "now, before we fasten this load on with the last rope, we'll throw one of them deer carcasses on top, and put the lash rope over it." This was done, and Jack for the first time helped to pack a horse, working on the off side.

"You're pretty small," Hugh said, "to pack yet a while. A fellow's got to be tall enough to reach up, so that he can put up a bundle on top of the pack, and so that he can get a good pull on the ropes, forward and backward. Your legs are a little mite short for that part of the work yet. After this, when you and me go out, if you're going to help pack, we'll have to pick short-legged pack ponies."

"Well," said Jack, "I suppose my legs will get longer after a while."

"You bet," said Hugh, "they'll be all right after a little while, and it ain't needful that you should do much packing yet, but it's mighty handy to know how to do it."

The other deer was put on the second pack horse, and roughly lashed in place, and when they reached the two animals killed that morning, one deer was hung on either side of the saddle, while the third was put on top. Jack helped to pack this load too, and did his work better because the horse was standing on a side hill, which added six or eight inches to the boy's apparent height.

"Now," said Hugh, as they were ready to start, "we don't need to haul these animals behind us all day long; we'll just tie up their ropes and drive them; they'll travel good going home."

Hugh coiled up the rope of each horse and made it fast to the lash rope on top of the pack. Then, mounting, they started the pack animals across the prairie in the direction of the ranch. When they had gone two or three miles they crossed a ravine, from the side of which bubbled a clear, cold spring, and here they stopped and took a long, refreshing drink. At the edge of the water were some tracks in the wet earth, which to Jack looked like the tracks of a small dog. He asked Hugh what they were, and Hugh told him they were the tracks of coyote puppies.

"They've only just left here," said Hugh; "likely they heard us coming and skipped out."

They had hardly come up on to the prairie from this ravine when they saw three half-grown coyote puppies shambling along only a short distance in front of them. The puppies saw the men at once, and galloped off, with drooping tails, and heads turned back over their shoulders, looking for all the world like three little dogs that expected to have a stone thrown after them.

"I wouldn't shoot at them," said Hugh, as Jack reached down his hand to draw his rifle from its scabbard: "I don't know how these pack horses are about shooting, and if you were to fire a shot, it might make one of 'em buck, and get us into some little trouble."

It was nearly night before the ranch house was seen.

A few days after their return from Smith's Hole, Jack met with quite a bad accident. Joe had driven the waggon around on to the mountain to get a load of poles, and Hugh and Jack rode up by the short trail to help him. While they were loading the waggon, Jack carelessly dropped the end of a heavy pole on to his foot, and crushed it quite badly. Hugh at once took off his shoe and stocking and examined the foot, but did not find that any bones were broken. He bandaged it with a couple of handkerchiefs, wet with cold water, and putting Jack on his horse, they returned to the ranch. The ride down the mountain side was very painful for the boy, but whenever they passed a brook, Hugh bathed the foot in cold water, which somewhat relieved the pain.

When they reached the ranch Jack's foot was badly swollen, and he was at once put to bed, where he stayed for two days. After that he was allowed to sit up, with his foot resting on a chair, and the next two days he spent chiefly in reading, though his uncle and the men often came in and talked with him, giving him the news. Hugh made a crutch for him, and on the fifth day he was allowed to hobble about with that, but was warned not to put his foot to the ground, unless he wanted to go to bed again.

It was pretty dull work doing nothing, for Jack greatly preferred riding over the prairie to sitting on a chair in front of the ranch door.

The first day that he used the crutch, Jack amused himself for a time by calling his flock of tame wild ducks about him and feeding them; but after a while, the ducks having had all the grain they wanted, walked off in single file to the brush, and left him alone. He thought of getting one of the men to bring the elk to him, but this was such a stupid beast that he thought it would prove a poor companion.

As the men were leaving the house after dinner, Jack called to Hugh and said, "Hugh, can't you think of something for me to do? I'm getting awful tired of staying right here in one place."

"Well," said Hugh, "I wish it was so you could get on your horse and ride with me this afternoon. I'm going over into the pasture and then down round by the lake. I'd like right well to stop here and talk with you all the afternoon, but I can't do it. Them cows has got to be looked after. You surely ought to have some one to keep you company, though. I'll tell you what it is; I'll go down to the barn and fetch up Pawnee, and picket him around here close to you. Maybe he'd be sort of company for you."

"That's just the thing," said Jack; "I wish you'd do it. It's nearly a week now since I've seen him."

Hugh went down to the barn, and after a little while returned, leading the horse with Jack's rope about its neck. He drove a picket pin into the sod, not far in front of the boy's chair, and fastened the rope to it. Then he went into the house, and came out again with a cup in which were a dozen lumps of sugar.

"Now, son," he said, "I've got a job for you that'll keep you busy all the afternoon, and it's something that you'll like to do, and something that may some day be right useful to you. You put in your time this afternoon teaching this horse to come to you when you whistle to him. You can't much more than make a start to-day, but if you keep it up for a few days, you can make him so that he'll come to you just as far as he can hear you whistle."

"That'll be splendid, Hugh, if I can only do it; but how can I teach him? I remember reading a book once about a man who lived in Mexico, and he had trained his horse just that way; and I remember that whenever he had left his horse and was on foot, and his enemies got after him, he'd whistle, and the horse would come dashing up, and he'd jump into the saddle and ride away. You see, his was the fastest horse in all that country, and they never could catch him."

"Well, now," said Hugh, "there's no reason why you shouldn't teach yours to do just that same thing, and yours is just about the fastest one in all this country; so you might be just like the fellow you read about in the book. Now, after a while, when the horse is feeding quite a little way from you, you whistle to him, and then pull on his rope and make him come up to you and give him a lump of sugar. Don't give him only one, and then let him wander off and pick grass again, and the next time he gets pretty well toward the end of his rope, whistle to him again, and draw in on the rope and bring him up close to you and give him another lump of sugar. Do that half a dozen times, not too close together, and the first thing you know you'll see him start toward you just as soon as you whistle. Mind you always whistle to him the same way. Are you a pretty good whistler? Can you whistle loud?"

"No, I can't whistle very loud," said Jack. "I can whistle a little, but I can't whistle real shrill."

"Well, hold on now; what will we do for a whistle? Seems to me your uncle's got a dog whistle somewhere in the house, that he always used with old Dan, that bird dog that he hunted with. I think I saw that whistle this winter in the cigar box on top of the book shelves. Hold on a minute."

Hugh went into the house and a few minutes later came out again with the dog whistle and gave it to Jack. "Now," he said, "if you're going to teach the horse to mind that whistle, you'll have to get your uncle to give it to you, and carry it with you all the time. If he gets to learn one sound he'll mind that and no other. Try him now, before I start off."

Pawnee was busy eating grass, nearly at the full length of the rope, when Jack gave a long shrill blast on his whistle, and, at the unusual sound, the horse raised his head and looked about. Jack began to gather in the rope, and Pawnee, following it, walked up to him and stuck out his nose. Jack offered him a piece of the sugar, at which he at first sniffed rather suspiciously, and then ate and seemed to enjoy. He reached out his nose for more, but Jack threw down the rope and turned away, and presently the horse walked back and began to eat the grass again.

"That's all right," said Hugh, "you'll see that before night he'll come quick when you blow that whistle. Well, so long; I must be going;" and Hugh walked away to the corral to get his horse.

Jack sat there most of the afternoon, and from his chair trained his horse, and it proved as Hugh had said, that before supper time Pawnee knew that a blast on the whistle meant that he was to be offered a lump of sugar, which he was always ready to take. Jack was perfectly delighted with his success, and determined that he would keep up this education of the horse until it had been so thoroughly trained that it would seek him at the whistle wherever he might be. The interest that he felt in this lightened up the next two or three days wonderfully. Each day he hopped about on his crutch a little more easily, and at last he was able to put his injured foot to the ground without much pain. He worked with Pawnee down in the corral and out on the flat in front of the house, and at last he took the rope off the animal and turned it loose, letting it wander where it would, and when he found that he could call the loose horse from a distance of a quarter of a mile, and it came galloping or trotting toward him at the sound of the whistle, he felt that he had really accomplished a great feat.

Hugh congratulated him heartily on his success. "I had a horse once," he said, "that I trained to do this, and there was lots of times when it was mighty handy to me. Most folks think that a horse is just a fool and don't know nothing; but it ain't so. A horse, if you treat it right, is a mighty knowledgeable critter, but most people don't know enough to see what there is in one, and think you can't get nothing out of it without you use a quirt, spurs, and maybe a club. Of course it's a mighty nervous animal, and it's always been used to being chased, and so it is scary, but there's lots of sense to a horse if you take it right."

At length Jack's foot was well enough for him to ride; but his first two or three rides were close about the ranch and on old Grey, which could be trusted not to make any sudden movements, and so not to oblige Jack to use his lame foot, which, however, was recovering rapidly, the cold water treatment, which Hugh had insisted on giving it having proved very effective.

During this period of his confinement, Jack had seen more of Shep, the ranch dog, than he ever had before. This was a big yellow shaggy shepherd dog, very affectionate and a very good watch dog, but rather a foolish, puppy-like beast, that was not especially popular with anyone. Hugh had said of him, "That dog there thinks he's a runner, and he thinks he's a fighter too, and he ain't neither one nor the other. He'll start off and chase an antelope or a jack rabbit, like he thought he was going to catch it without any trouble, but the things run off ahead of him, not a bit scared, and he just runs himself down and comes back with his tongue hanging out a yard, looking, and I expect feeling, like a fool. He ain't never caught nothing yet, and I don't expect he ever will catch anything."

It was after dark one evening, when Jack and Hugh were sitting before the ranch door, and Shep was lying at Hugh's feet, that they heard a coyote howl right close to the house. The dog sprang to his feet and rushed around the corner of the house to where the sound had come from, and they could hear the patter of his feet as he raced down toward the blacksmith's shop. Suddenly from the shop there came a tumult of growling, yelling and worrying, a noise as if a lot of dogs were fighting.

"By George!" said Hugh, "I believe that fool dog has ran into a nest of coyotes." Hugh ran around the corner of the house, and toward the sounds, which still continued, and Jack, grasping his crutch, half ran, half hopped, after him. In a moment he heard Hugh shouting, the noise of the fighting ceased, and as Jack reached the corner of the blacksmith's shop, he met Hugh coming back with Shep running before him.

"Well, now, what do you suppose I found when I got down there?" said Hugh. "Just inside the garden fence was this dog and six or eight coyotes on top of him, just everlastingly making the fur fly. It's mighty lucky for him that he's got so much of this long yellow hair; if he hadn't had, he'd have been eaten up before I got there. I expect he's some cut up as it is." They took Shep into the kitchen, and by the light of the lamp looked over him, and found that, as Hugh had said, he was bitten and cut in a dozen places. None of the wounds were very serious, but only his shaggy coat had protected him.

"Do you know," said Hugh, after they were again seated in the bright moonlight, "I believe that was just a scheme of them coyotes to kill this dog. You took notice, didn't you, how close that one that howled was to us? I never saw a coyote come so close to the house before. I believe he just came up here to tole Shep down behind the blacksmith's shop, where his partners were waiting. It was a pretty sharp trick now, wasn't it?"

A few days after this, Hugh and Mr. Sturgis looked at Jack's foot and pronounced it well. It no longer pained him at all, but sometimes he thought it felt a little stiff as he walked. He now resumed his riding after the saddle horses and the milk cows, and besides this, went out almost daily with Hugh or with his uncle on their excursions in one direction or another, after horses and cattle.

One day, the cows that had been kept in the pasture were brought up to the corrals, in order that the calves might be branded. They were all put in one of the large corrals and then, one by one, the cows were cut out and driven through a chute into another large corral, leaving all the calves together; then the branding began. Fires were built just outside the corral fence, and the branding irons put in them to heat. Then, one by one the calves were roped, thrown and held down until the hot iron had been put on them. It took a long time to brand the hundred and four calves in this bunch, and by the time the work had been finished all hands were hot, tired and covered with dust. It was a relief to every one when the gates were opened and the calves and their mothers allowed to come together again.

"I'll tell you what it is, son," said Hugh, "working cattle and horses isn't all fun; there's a heap of hard work to it, and I believe I'm getting pretty old to do work of that kind. Fact is, you see, I wasn't raised to this sort of business. We didn't have no cattle in this country till about ten or a dozen years ago. That's the reason I always said I ain't no cowman and won't never be. A man's got to be brung up to the business to do it well."