CHAPTER IX
A FIRST-CLASS BUCKING MULE
As there was yet a month to elapse before Roger's "engagement with thesun," as Masseth had called it, and the journey to the Grand Canyonwould not take more than eight or nine days, the boy felt littledesirous either of waiting about the desert country or of going back tothe Canyon ahead of time. It was practically a vacation for him, he hadplenty of money in his pocket, a good horse between his knees, theprestige of a government appointment at his back, and the recollectionof the gloomy Mohave country to wipe out.
The reconnoissance party had left him at Olancha, at the southernextremity of Owens Lake, a land of black volcanic lava and great beds oftuff. After the dazzling white of salt and borate deposits; the greatsheets of black lava, and the heights of the Sierra Nevada behind,formed so strong a contrast that Roger could hardly believe that the twowere but a couple of days' ride from each other. Towering over all,moreover, could be seen Mt. Whitney, the sentinel peak of the southernend of the Sierra, snow-capped and majestic, and Roger conceived theidea of riding thitherward to gain some idea of the life and scenery ofthe mountain-side.
A few hours' ride brought him to Lone Pine, where he put up for thenight. In the course of casual conversation with some of the men in thelittle frame hotel, Roger mentioned that he was with the GeologicalSurvey. This announcement he had found it necessary to make in a numberof instances, for in that Western country a man's business is notregarded as a matter especially to be kept secret.
"Sho!" said one of the men, just in from a big cattle ranch. "I presoom,then, that you propose to hitch up with that peak-climbin' outfit?"
"Is there a geological reconnoissance party near here, then?" queriedRoger interestedly.
"A what?"
"A geological reconnoissance party," repeated the boy, "a governmentsurvey."
"Geological reconnoissance is good!" exclaimed the Westerner. "If thatsalubrious phrase is a maverick, I reckon I'll brand it and inclood itin my string. But there was a bunch here the other day, withthree-legged telescopes and barbers' poles, just like what youdescribe."
"How long ago?" asked the boy.
"'Bout a week, I surmise. An' they can't have got any thousand milesaway, either, because, as I understood 'em, they was a-contemplatin'drawin' little picture-maps of the country as they went along."
Roger nodded understandingly.
"I know," he said, "that's just the delineation of the topographicalcontour."
The Westerner's jaw dropped for a moment, but he was game, and cameright up to the scratch.
"Topographical contour I like!" he said. "This is our busy day onlanguage. It may be a new sort of drink for all I know, but it soundswell. I presoom, partner, that you had better lend your valooableassistance to the delineation of the topographical contour on ageological reconnoissance!"
He looked round for the applause of the little gathering, which wasreadily and gleefully accorded him.
The boy laughed. "All right," he said, "I'll take my medicine. I hadn'tnoticed that it would seem like tall talk, but that's the way the menspeak on the Survey."
"Which I've no objection, son," answered the other. "I'm allers willin'to rope and hog-tie a new bunch o' words, an' I has gratitood therefor."
"You all remember," broke in another speaker, "the time when GingerHarry's gun-play was choked off by the vocab'lary Little Doc unloaded?"
And Roger, seeing the conversation pass into other hands, was glad toretire from the center of the stage in which he had unexpectedly foundhimself, and listened for all he was worth to the reminiscences of thedays when cowboy life had not been spoiled by railroad tracks andbarbed-wire fences.
Early the next morning, however, taking with him a few days' provisions,Roger started up the trail which had been pointed out to him as the onethe survey party had taken a few days previously, and his now trainedeye could easily detect where halts had been made and bench marksestablished for the mapping out of the contour of the country. At thesame time he noticed that the party was pushing on rapidly, and by thishe judged that the climbing of the peak was one of the objects of theexpedition.
He had reached quite a sharp slope in the mountain, and was letting Duketake the trail slowly and quietly, when suddenly he heard above him asharp blow, and then, far up the mountain-side a faint,"ting-ling-ling-ling" and a moment's pause, then louder,"crackety-crack-crack-crack" and then, with a tumult of crashes andwhangs, a large tin pail went clattering down the mountain.
Roger looked up, and from the heights above him there floated down avociferous and fluent torrent of language, which, even at that distance,sounded strange and barbarous to the boy's ears. Using hisfield-glasses, moreover, he could distinguish a figure leaning over aledge some distance above, and by the long cue he could see it was aChinaman. The sight gave him great encouragement, for he knew that theparty he was following had with it a Chinese cook, named Ti Sing, wellknown in that region, and one of the most valued cooks in the Survey.
Realizing that he was near his goal the boy hurried on, and soonovertook the party beside a small river with a swollen stream, arecent cloudburst having filled to overflowing a creek usuallyfordable. The water would, of course, go down in a day or two, but themen did not want to wait. The building of a bridge seemed almost beyondfeasibility, as the banks were flat and there was no way to get acrosswith a rope even, for the first span.
CROSSING A SWOLLEN STREAM.
Bridge is a log hewed flat on one side, about three feet wide. Rail isflimsy and but a "bluff of confidence."
_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]
As it chanced, the head of the party, with the assistant topographer,had taken a little side trip off the trail, and the packers were annoyedby being stopped in this way.
"I reckon Saracen could find a way, all right," said one of the men,"but I shore do feel like a fool to wait for him to come up and show usold-timers what to do."
Numberless suggestions had been made, and Roger's presence as a strangerhad kept him silent, but thinking perhaps that he could be of some use,he spoke in an aside to the first speaker and suggested to him apossible means, which he had heard as having been done in a similar caseby Herold. He gave the packer the idea, and told him to go ahead with itas though it were a plan of his own devising.
"You see," said Roger, "it would seem like an intrusion if it came fromme."
"Nothing o' the kind," said the other roughly. "I'm not going to stealanother man's ideas and put them out as my own. What do you think I am?Here, boys," he continued, "this youngster has an idea that he says hasbeen proved before. Let's try it. Tell us about it, son."
Roger flushed hot at being brought before a group of men he had neverseen till that day, but he spoke up bravely.
"It doesn't seem right, I know," he said, "for me to do any talking, butI know of a scheme that might work here, if you thought it would go.Work it just like you do a canoe in tracking. You know with a rope frombow to stern, going against the current, if you pull on the bow, it willswerve in and on the stern it will sweep out?"
"That's right!" agreed several of the men.
"Well," went on the boy, "it would be pretty easy to get a tree half-wayacross, wouldn't it? Drop a tree in the river, fasten the butt end toshore, and then let the top sweep out into the stream, fastening therope when it was out at a sharp angle up stream."
"Any fool can do that," said one of the party scornfully, "but you mightjust as well be on this side as only half-way across."
"Dry up, Hank, and don't get grouchy," said the first speaker, "the boyisn't through."
"I thought then," continued Roger, with a grateful glance at his ally,"that another tree could be cut down, away up the river, butt end first.Two ropes on, same as the other. Then, keeping the top down stream andchecking off the ropes gradually, the current would sweep the tree tothe other side of the stream. Let it float until the branches of thesecond tree interlocked with those of the first, held tight in themiddle of the stream
. Then slack up the butt end of the second tree, andas it swung round it would hit the bank on the further shore, and thereis your bridge made."
"That would read all right in a book," grumbled the discontented one,"but a river like that isn't any child's kite business."
"But I didn't get it out of a book," replied the boy, a little hotly."Mr. Herold, the geographer, told me that, and said that it had beendone on some of the swollen streams of the Glacier National Park inMontana, where the streams are hard to cross."
His former friend also came to the boy's support.
"There is a lot of chance work in it," he said quietly, "but the plansounds all right to me. Of course, if the second tree behaves like yousay it should it would be all right, but there isn't any guaranty thatit will. But it's worth the trying, and anything's better than standinghere like a lot of dummies waiting for somebody to come along and tellus what to do."
One of the members of the party having been detailed to look up twosuitable trees, and another to find out the narrowest and mostconvenient place in the river, it was not long before the two trees weredown and dragged to their respective places on the bank. Roger's frienddesired him to assume direction of the work, which Roger refused to do.
"It isn't my plan, anyway," he said. "As I told you it is only somethingI heard, and I wouldn't dream of thinking that I know as much about theway of going at it as any of you," a modest speech which won him favor,even with the disgruntled packer.
The launching of the first tree, however, proved so easy, the currentcarried it to its place with so much readiness that all were encouraged.It was securedly anchored at the shore and pointed up stream, withlittle difficulty. But the second tree, owing to having been too short,proved a failure at the first attempt, and it was not until a tree ofjust the right height had been secured that success was attained. Thesecond time, the tree drifted quietly down, entangled in the branches ofthe other tree, according to programme, and the butt being slackenedaway it landed fair and true upon the other shore. Without delay one ofthe most active of the men crawled out and lashed the two treestogether, then crawled over the second tree and stood on the furthershore triumphant.
BRIDGED BY "DOUBLE TREE."
Foaming mountain torrent, too powerful to cross for miles, and itssource hidden in inaccessible ravines.
_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]
But it must be admitted that while the passage had been achieved, it wasa perilous one at best. The current foamed over the trunks of the treesand fairly boiled through the intertwined branches. Bit by bit, all thatthe mules had carried in their packs was taken over, even the saddlesbeing borne over this arboreal bridge. Great as had been the difficultyof making the bridge, scarcely less hard was it to make Ti Sing cross.He called on all his gods, in eighteen several and distinct dialects ofChinese, but the men were obdurate, and with one pulling him in frontand another pushing him behind, he was at last brought over.
Then a rope was stretched from shore to shore, passing through a loosering. This was fastened to the girth of a mule, one rope was tied to hishead to keep him from drowning and another to his tail to make him keephis temper, for a mule can't get irritated with his tail tied, and thus,half-drowned and altogether weary, the mules were got across, just asthe chief of the party came up. He said nothing until with his assistanthe had crossed and seen the animals over safely, then turning to thepacker:
"Whose idea?" he asked briefly.
The man pointed to Roger in reply, and the chief walked over to where hestood, watching the men chaff Ti Sing about the missing tin pail.
"That's an old trick of Herold's," he said, "but I never heard of anyone else using it. Where did you get hold of the idea, boy?"
"From Mr. Herold, sir," answered Roger. "He told me about it before Istarted into the field."
"Oh, you're on the Survey, then. What party?"
"Mr. Masseth's."
"Then what in thunder are you doing up here?"
So Roger recounted to him his story, showing that he had to return tothe Canyon in a few weeks, but that he couldn't see any fun in lyingaround waiting for the time to pass. He pointed out that he wasespecially anxious to fit himself for work in Alaska, and quoted Rivers'dictum as to the experience he would need.
"Well," replied Saracen, "I guess that's right enough. You've just cometo see the Sierra country. We're not going to stay long on this side,and after I get through with this little bit of peak--which was thereason of the crossing that stream--we shall go to the other side of themountain, where I can put you on the main trail. By that means you willhave a couple of weeks up here, and still be able to get back to theCanyon to finish that bit of work you are pledged to do there."
Roger thanked him heartily, and began his ten days of mountain climbing,an experience utterly new, for even the scrambling up and down theterraced cliffs of the Colorado was a different matter from the scalingof apparently inaccessible crags, where the climber faced no littleperil in making the ascent. Further, in order to do the drawing after hegot up, he would have to be tied on and have the plane table tied,while working on a knife-blade ledge all day.
Some few days after his arrival, Roger had the unexpected opportunity ofseeing a mule train possessed by fear, and watching a mule buck. Mulesrarely buck, so the lad was conscious of the value of the experience. Ithappened on a fairly wide trail, but which sloped considerably to theside of the mountain, and Roger was riding beside the chief of theparty. Suddenly a loud commotion was heard in the rear of the packtrain, and Saracen and Roger reined up. Duke, always restive andnervous, began to prance about, showing evidence of real fear, and whileRoger was a good horseman and kept his seat easily, he could not keepthe beast on the trail, and the bay danced off to the side, where on theturf, three or four yards from the beaten track, he brought him,snorting and trembling, to a standstill.
Then he had time to look about him. On the trail immediately above him,the lead mule, bestridden by Saracen, was performing evolutions thatwould not have disgraced a trick circus beast, cavorting and pirouettingand bucking, evidently longing to bolt, but held down by the iron handof his rider. Just as the beast was a little quieted and Roger thoughtof resuming the trail, there came a clattering of hoofs, and whish! arunaway mule flashed by, arousing Duke and the lead mule to a newexhibition of bucking. Roger soon had his mount pacified, but Saracenwas getting angry, and was applying whip and spurs without stint, to nopurpose, for a couple of minutes later another of the pack train's mulescame down tearing up the dust, then two together in a panic of stampede.
All the while the lead mule, held to one place by a grip that neverrelaxed for an instant, plunged and reared and strained every nerve tounseat his rider. Next came a salvo of shouts and objurgations, and twoof the packers hurtled along the trail, sawing at the mouths of theiranimals, but utterly unable to hold them in, and indeed, narrowlyescaping being ridden over by the rest of the pack mules following.Saracen always declared that his mule counted each animal as it went by,but certain it is that no sooner had the last of the pack train vanishedin the distance than the lead mule steadied down. No damage had beendone save that the rider's hat, though strongly fastened on, had beenbucked off. A few minutes later, back came the other men, who curiouslyenough were in similar case. The three hats were found close together onthe trail.
When an investigation was made, no known cause could be found to accountfor the sudden bolt, except that a white mule, one of the last in thetrain, had become suddenly frightened, possibly because there was a bearin the neighborhood, and had started to run, bunting into the mule nextin the lead, and thus communicating the fright all the way along theline. Fortunately no mishaps had occurred, and though some of the packshad shaken loose, none had been thrown and nothing was lost.
The very next day after this, the mule in question, which, by the way,was the only white mule in the party, quietly slipped off the side of acliff with a drop of one hundred and forty feet, landed upside down onthe pack-saddle, bounced twen
ty feet farther, and then quietly got up,shook himself, and began to graze. Being white, the mule was easilyvisible, and as it was seen that he was not hurt and in the pack werecertain things almost indispensable, it was decided to go down andrecover him.
When this was pointed out, Roger, thinking that it might take some timeto recover the mule, felt that he would be wiser to start on hisjourney for the Canyon, and finding out the nearest trail from the chiefof the party, he started back to fulfil his "engagement with the sun."Having plenty of time, he took the trip quietly, reaching Lone Pine afew days later, and making his way south to the railroad at Mohave.
IF HE SHOULD SLIP!
The Chief Geographer making a plane-table station, 10,996 feet above sealevel. Note how table is tied on.
_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]
There he encountered a young fellow on his way to Washington with somespecial news of the discovery of important fossils by one of thebranches of the Geological Survey, and Roger, to his surprise, foundanother avenue of science covered by that department of the governmentto which he had become so proud of belonging. This young fellow had beenworking in the bone-bearing strata for several months, and someextremely valuable finds had been made which were to be placed in theSmithsonian Museum.
With this comrade to while away the journey it seemed but little time toRoger until they reached Needles, where the lad took to the saddleagain. It was all familiar ground to him now and no trouble wassustained in reaching the little camp on the north side of the Canyonwhere he had been bidden signal. He arrived three days before theappointed time, desiring rather to be sure than to run the risk of someaccident delaying him. He found the provisions cached safely and knewwhere to go for water. After making sure that the little instrument andthe glass had not been touched, the boy having carried the key about hisneck the entire two months, he settled down for his three days' wait.
The night before the date appointed, having a vague fear lest he mightoversleep himself, though it was a thing he had not done in all the timehe had been on the Survey, the boy lay down in front of the littleglass, wedging himself in so that he could not move, and having theglass pointed so that the rays of the rising sun would be directedimmediately into his eyes. It was not a comfortable night's rest, butthe plan operated like a charm, for the sun's rim had hardly more thanappeared above the horizon when the reflected rays shone directly intohis face and wakened him instantly.
He got up without delay, and though considerable time was to elapse,prepared all before his breakfast. That meal done, he sat beside hisheliograph to await the time. There was a variation of a minute and ahalf between the two watches, and Roger thought it better to take thelater time, for, he reasoned, if Masseth was there he would be sure towait, while if he flashed too early, his chief might not be ready.
Promptly at the hour, therefore, the light shining equally about theedges of the quarter-inch hole, he raised the cloth shutter that hadbeen in front of the aperture and three times let the strong light shinethrough. He almost fancied that he could see the reflection on thedistant peak.
Five minutes elapsed, then he repeated the signal, three flashes of tenseconds' duration, as had been agreed upon. Then, suddenly andunexpectedly, he saw on the distant peak to which he was signaling, ananswering triple flash. He waited the required time, five minutes, thengave the old signal, but followed it by three quick flashes of a secondapiece. This was answered in the same manner, telling the boy that notonly had his signal been seen, but also that his answer to the responsehad been observed and that everything was right.
Thus, across seven miles of the roughest country in the world, did Rogerreceive his official release and message of farewell from the GrandCanyon party he had served so faithfully.
Boy With the U. S. Survey Page 11
