CHAPTER XVII
We were standing on the surface of a flat table-rock, which jutted outfrom the face of the towering cliff and overhung the valley that wasspread out like a map beneath us. About twenty feet back from the edgeof the rock was a pile of debris heaped up against the face of thecliff; but the remaining surface of the stone was clean bare andweather-beaten. The talus against the cliff was composed of loosefragments of stone and other products of wash and erosion. This wasovergrown with a thicket of stunted shrubs, wry-necked goblin thistlesand murderous devil's clubs. These bludgeon-shaped plants, thicklycovered with sharp thorns, reared aloft their weapons as if in menace toall living things; the unstable ground and thorny thicket formed theonly shelter where we could be ambushed in the rear, and it was not alikely spot to be chosen for such a purpose by man or beast.
When Big Pete wheeled about face with his trusty revolvers in hand, Iquickly followed his example, and our mutual surprise may be imaginedwhen we found ourselves gazing in the faces of a semicircle of giganticwolves. The animals were squatting on their haunches at the foot of thetalus, their wicked slant eyes fixed upon us and their red tongueslolling out from their cavernous mouths.
I cannot tell why, whether it was the state of my nerves or the effectof the rare air of the high altitude, or what, but I felt no fear atfacing this strange wolf pack. Indeed, to me they appeared all to belaughing and their red tongues lolled from their open mouths in a veryhumorous fashion.
The whole scene appeared to me to be exceedingly funny and, in a spiritof utter reckless bravado, I doffed my fur cap, with exaggeratedpoliteness made a low bow, and, addressing the largest and mostdevilish-looking wolf in the pack, exclaimed,
"Ah! this is Monsieur Loup-Garou, I believe. Pardon me, Monsieur, butdid you speak a moment since?"
But Big Pete Darlinkel looked at the wolves, and great beads of sweatstood on his forehead. It was his turn to have the shivers. There was nomore color in his face than in a peeled turnip. His gun shook in hisleft hand like a aspen, while the spangled gun in his right hand droppedits muzzle towards earth and there was scarcely strength enough in hisnerveless fingers to have pulled a hair-trigger.
Pete's great baby-blue eyes turned helplessly to me; but it was now myinnings, and with a cheery voice I cried,
"Why, Pete, old fellow, what ails you?" Then meanly quoting his ownwords, I added, "They hain't nothing but wolves!"
There is not a shadow of a doubt that Pete expected the wolves to answerme with human voice, and I am willing to confess that, even to me,there seemed to be no other alternative for the slant-eyed bandits topursue. But for the present they appeared to prefer to maintain a solemnsilence.
The middle wolf had been looking intently at us for some time before awell-modulated voice said,
"I have answered your call, gentlemen; how can I serve you?"
I was more than half expecting some such answer, but if it had not beenso evident that Big Pete was badly frightened and had lost all hisself-possession, I should have thought he was again practising his artas ventriloquist.
Of course I deceived myself. The wolves had no more power of speech thana house-dog. But I really thought the wolves were doing the talkinguntil I caught sight of a tall man of handsome and distinguishedappearance seated among the weird goblin-thistles just above the wolves.The stranger appeared to be a man of almost any age; he might be youngbut, if old, he was wonderfully well preserved. He was clad in alight-colored buckskin suit of clothes, edged and trimmed with fur, afur cap on his head and moccasins on his feet. And I noticed, with astart, that he had that same red porcupine quill ornament on his huntingshirt that the young Indian wore.
When I saw how his dress blended perfectly with his surroundings Iexcused myself for not sooner detecting him. I could not help but admirehis easy grace and the sense of reserved strength in his strong figure.The calmness and repose forcibly reminded me of the mountain lion we hadlately encountered.
"You kin hackle me and card my sinews, if it hain't the Wild Hunterhimself an' his pack," said Big Pete under his breath.
The color now began to return to his face and at the recollection of hislate rude words the big fellow blushed like a school girl. Gradually herecovered his self-possession, and, doffing his cap, made a low bow asgraceful and as courtly as that of any polished courtier. This was anentirely new side to my friend's character and I listened with interestwhen he said,
"Sir, whether you be loup-garou, werwolf, witch-b'ar or all them toonct, I do not care. What I want ter say is ef that tha' ranch yander beyour'n, you may hamstring me ef I hain't proud to have such a man for aneighbor. Whatever else you be yore no shavetail or shorthorn, an'that's howsomever. I don't mind sayin' that yore a better shot an' allaround hunter an' mountain man than Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, DavyCrockett, Kit Carson, Bison McClean and Jim Baker all rolled in one.Yore the slickest woodsman on the divide. I'm powerful proud of you as aneighbor and would be still prouder ef I might call you my friend."
Our strange visitor displayed a beautiful white set of teeth as a franksmile played over his smooth face. But his only answer at that momentwas an inclination of his head and a muttered command to the wolves,which they instantly obeyed by silently disappearing in the underbrush.
After a pause the tall stranger came forward, and, removing his own cap,made a bow even more courtly than that of Big Pete, as he thus replied:"Sir, I feel highly honored at this flattering expression ofcommendation. I can honestly say that it is the greatest compliment Ihave ever received from a stranger, and," he added with another winningsmile, "you are the first stranger with whom I have held converse innearly twenty years. That I am not unfriendly I have already proved bysome trifling services, but the honor of the acquaintance is mine."
After the formalities of our meeting were over the stranger stood for afew moments with his chin resting on his breast. He was evidentlythinking over some serious subject. His head was bare, his fur cap beingin his hands, and his hands locked behind his back. A mass of lightcolored hair fell over his forehead and shoulders.
Presently he looked at us again, with that same grave smile on his face,and said that if we would consent to be blindfolded and trust ourselvesimplicitly to his care, he would be glad to take us to his home andwould feel honored if we should choose to visit him.
"You can proceed no further on this trail for it ends here, and not evena goat can go beyond the rock on which we stand, therefore we mustretrace our steps a few hundred yards," he explained, as he apologizedfor his strange proposition. He securely bandaged our eyes with our ownhandkerchiefs, and after turning us around until I at least had lost allsense of direction, he placed thongs in our hands, and then wediscovered that we were to be led by some sort of animals, presumablywolves. Whatever else they were, they proved to be careful and sagaciousleaders.
After a short distance of rough climbing where we constantly needed thepersonal help of our mysterious host, we began to descend and soon ourfeet told us that we were traveling on a comparatively smooth thoughsteep trail. Now and again our guide would speak to warn us of stones orother obstructions in our path, but, with the exception of thesenecessary words of caution and brief words expressing approval orreproof to the animals, we made the journey in silence and in due timereached the bottom, and our feet told us that we were walking on a levelshale-covered path.
At this point the creatures leading us were dismissed and we could hearthem scrambling back over the trail. We heard the bleating of sheep, thelowing of cattle and all the multiplicity of noises so familiar on awell-stocked farm, and we could easily detect the different odors asfamiliar and characteristic as the noises. We enjoyed to its fullestextent the novelty of the homely sensations aroused by the smell ofnew-mown hay and the familiar medley of sounds peculiar to the farm.
In due time we found ourselves at the foot of a couple of wooden steps,which we ascended, and, crossing a broad veranda, entered a doorway.Here we stood awaiting further commands in utter ign
orance of oursurroundings. Of course, we surmised we were in the ranch house which wesaw from the table rock, but this was only a surmise.
"Gentlemen," said the strange old man, "you are welcome to my home, andallow me to add that you are the only white men who have ever crossedthe threshold of this house."
As he ceased speaking he removed the bandages from our eyes.
The Black Wolf Pack Page 17
