CHAPTER XXIII
HUNTING THE MOUNTAIN SHEEP
"HOW terribly big they seem, towering so high above us," Roger remarkedto his cousin, as they stood just outside the camp that evening,looking upward at the lofty heights that shut out the sinking sun.
"We have never seen anything like them before," admitted Dick, "andI don't believe there are mountains back in Old Virginia, that ourfathers talk about so much, that can hold a candle to these rockyheights."
"I know for one I'll be glad when we've crossed the backbone of theridge, and can see the sun in the late afternoon again," Roger went onto say. "And after that we have the deserts to cross, if those Indiantales turn out to be true."
"I feel more anxious about that stage of our journey than I do over thedangers we may encounter in crossing the mountains," admitted Dick."They say men and horses die of thirst on those burning sands. I heardCaptain Lewis explaining how we would make skin bags in order to carryan extra supply of water with us when we strike the sandy wastes."
So the talk, as was quite natural, was mostly of the possible terrorsof the journey ahead of them. Their imagination was given full swingto picture many of the strange things mentioned by the roving Indians,though in some cases these stories turned out to be untrue.
When men had gazed upon such remarkable wonders as the spouting hotwater geysers of the Yellowstone, they could be easily pardoned forbelieving almost anything they heard. This vast country had never beenexplored, and it seemed to be a veritable storehouse of strange things.(Note 7.)
The eventful morning came, and seemed to be favorable for beginningthe ascent of the trail leading over the mountains by way of the pass.Indian tribes had doubtless made it in crossing from one part of thecountry to another. Wild animals, such as the vast herds of buffaloes,also had occasion to cross the divide according to the stages of theweather, and their hoofs had helped to make the overland trail.
It was a crisp morning in early September. In that high altitude theair seemed wonderfully refreshing, and every one felt capable of thetask that now engaged their attention.
The Indian guide assured them that they need have no apprehensionsregarding the passage of the mountains, for he would lead them acrossas his people had come on many an occasion.
By the time noon came they had mounted far enough to have a splendidview of the plateau over which their journey for the last few days hadbeen made. It was well worth seeing, and many times did the travelersglance backward over that extended vista, with longing thoughtsconcerning the loved ones who, far away toward the east, awaited wordof their homecoming.
Roger had not forgotten what he had heard about those strange sheepof the mountains, with their great curved horns. He was very eager todiscover whether the tales the Indians told could be true or not, andmany a look did he bend on the crags above them in hope of discoveringa herd of the bighorns.
It was about the middle of the afternoon, and in company with Dick hewas riding at some little distance ahead of the main company, whenRoger actually discovered the object he sought.
"'THERE! YOU CAN SEE HIM MOVE'"]
"Oh, look, Dick! Tell me! is that one of those sheep of the mountainsup there on that little patch of grass? There! you can see him move. Hesees us, but believes himself so secure that he doesn't bother to runaway."
"It must be what you say, Roger, for I can see the horns they told usabout, which curve backward from his head. There, another has comearound that spur of rock. I think there must be a small flock of themup there."
"But just look at the horns on that buck, Dick; how I would like to beable to get that pair to carry back with me."
"I'm afraid you'd find it a hard job to get within shooting distance ofthem," Dick observed, "for you can see that they seem to be on a littleshelf where that grass grows, and from here I can discover no way ofreaching it, except to jump a chasm."
"Still, there must be some connection above us, Dick, and I've got agood notion to try it, if only you'll take charge of my horse."
"Well, I can plainly see you will never be happy until you have madeyour attempt," Dick told him, "and so I suppose I'll have to do as youask. But promise me to be careful where you trust yourself, Roger.Remember, that you are no mountain goat, and that a fall from such aheight would mean your finish."
"Oh! I promise you to be as cautious as though my name were Dickinstead of Roger. All I want to find out is whether I can get to aplace where my gun will send a bullet fair and square. The moose fellto you, Dick, and I think I ought to have my chance at these wonderfuljumpers of the mountains."
"While you're gone, Roger, I can stop here and watch what happens. Ifyou do shoot, and frighten the herd, it may be I can see them do someof those wonderful things we've heard about, and not half believed. Butwatch your steps, Roger."
Eager to discover if there was any way for him to get a shot at thefeeding sheep, Roger hastened away. The last Dick saw of him, he wasclimbing the side of the mountain, stooping over as he went so that hemight not be seen by the game he intended to stalk.
For some reason the party had halted below, and did not come alongwhen Dick expected them. This might be fortunate for Roger, since itwould keep the sheep from being startled by the appearance of numerousmounted men.
Watching the feeding animals, Dick could now count five in all. Theone with the largest horns he imagined to be the patriarch of theflock; and he could easily guess that, if Roger found a chance toshoot, his eyes would fasten upon this prize beast, for the amazingcurved horns had evidently fascinated the young hunter.
As time crept past Dick wondered how his cousin was progressing.Surely, by now, he must have been able to get within easy range of theunsuspicious sheep, and could pick out his quarry, if he really meantto shoot. A good deal would depend on whether Roger believed he couldretrieve his game in case he shot it. If the poor beast had to lie onthe little, grass-covered, slanting plateau Dick did not believe hischum would waste a load, merely for the sake of killing.
Once or twice he could see the owner of those massive horns raise hishead and sniff the air suspiciously. He even ran a few steps, as thoughtempted to give the note of alarm that would send them all plungingdownward from the exposed point of pasturage; but, on second thought,resisted the temptation.
It may have been sheer pride in his ability to shield his flock fromall harm that caused the buck to refrain from flight. Undoubtedly hefelt secure upon that plateau, and, even should any peril suddenlythreaten, no animal dared follow where he and his family could plungeheadlong.
It cost him dearly to indulge in any such proud boast. The two-leggedcreature that was crawling up the face of the rocks possessed a reachfar in excess of any mountain lion or panther that ever tried to make ameal of a tender ewe--that stick he carried could bridge a chasm whenit spat out flame and smoke, and carry death in its wake.
Dick was getting impatient for something to happen. If Roger hadlearned that it was useless for him to try to get a shot, he should becoming back by now, and not taking any chances.
Just then there came the report of a rifle. The echoes were flung backand forth among the spurs of the mountains in a weird manner, but Dickpaid no attention to this fact, being too busy watching what took placeup on that elevated plateau.
He saw the patriarch of the flock give a leap into the air, and thenfall over, roll several times, and finally vanish from sight, possiblyfalling into some crevice that was not visible to Dick's eyes.
But an even more remarkable thing was happening than the death of theguardian of the flock. The remainder of the sheep showed symptoms ofalarm. A veritable panic seemed to have struck them, as, rushing pellmell down the slope, they, one after another, sprang boldly out intospace.
Holding his very breath with awe, Dick saw them strike upon their hornson the rocks below, and, apparently uninjured, continue their headlongflight. Then, after all, the amazing stories they had heard from theIndians were true. Dick felt well repaid for having stood so l
ong,holding the horses and watching.
He believed he had heard Roger's shrill cry of triumph, though he sawnothing of his chum, look as he might.
When a little time had passed Dick began to grow somewhat anxious. Hewondered if any harm could have come to Roger, or was the other tryingto get to the fallen sheep that had slipped into a crevice among therocks?
Finally Dick could stand it no longer. He decided to secure the twohorses somewhere and follow the route Roger had taken. Once up above,he ought to be able to get some news of the missing one.
He was soon climbing up the face of the rocky mountain. It was no easytask, and that Roger had accomplished it without alarming the quarrywas greatly to his credit. Still, there was no sign of him whom Dickwanted to see.
Dick, with the eye of a born hunter, found it easy to figure out justhow Roger had proceeded. He did this by putting himself in the place ofthe other, and arranging his own plan of campaign.
Now and then he came across signs that told him he was on the righttrack. Once it was a bruised weed, which Roger must have crushed underhis foot; then again it would turn out to be a piece of loose stonethat he could see had only recently been cast adrift from its formeranchorage.
Little things like this, that might pass unnoticed by any one not awoodsman, were to this pioneer boy as the printed words on a page toone who attends school. They told him the story just as positively asthough with his own eyes he saw Roger creeping along over that veryspot, taking advantage of this protruding knob to place his foot uponit, and using that stubby bush to draw himself up to some new holdabove.
By degrees Dick pushed on. He knew he must be getting very close towhere the other had been when he fired the fatal shot, and still hesaw no signs of Roger.
When he finally arrived at a place where further progress wasimpossible, without disclosing himself to the eyes of the sheep,provided they still grazed there on the grassy slope beyond, Dickknew he had reached the spot where his chum must have lain as he tookcareful aim and pressed the trigger.
Then afterwards he must have pressed on, seeking to reach the bighorn,fallen into the crevice.
Dick crept on.
He was beginning to feel a strange sense of impending evil. He fearedthat something terrible had happened to Roger, and the possibility oflosing the chum whom he loved so well was enough to frighten him.
A minute later he came upon the gun. It had been carefully laid aside,he could see, which, at least, was evidence that up to then Roger hadnot found himself in any difficulty.
Looking beyond, Dick shuddered, for he had glimpsed what appeared tobe a terrible gulf, at the end of the slope down which Roger must havemade his way. If he had in some manner lost his footing, and taken thatplunge, there was almost a certainty that it was all over with him.
When Dick discovered from the signs that some one had been scramblingwildly over that smooth rock his heart misgave him; and it was with agreat fear that he carefully pressed on until he reached the brink ofthe chasm.
The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest Page 26
