IV
On the way down the narrow trail Bob found himself near the two men fromhis own camp. He chaffed them good-humouredly over their lack of skillin the contests, to which they replied in the same spirit.
Arrived at camp, Thorne turned to face his followers, who gathered in agroup to listen.
"Let's have a little riding, boys," said he. "Bring out a horse or twoand some saddles. Each man must saddle his horse, circle that tree downthe road, return, unsaddle and throw up both hands to show he's done."
Bob was amused to see how the aspect of the men changed at thisannouncement. The lithe young fellows, who had been looking pretty soberover the records they had made at shooting, brightened visibly and ranwith some eagerness to fetch out their own horses and saddles. Some ofthe others were not so pleased, notably two of the young fellows fromthe valley towns. Still others remained stolidly indifferent to a trialin which they could not hope to compete with the professional riders,but in which neither would they fail.
The results proved the accuracy of this reasoning. A new set of starsrose to the ascendant, while the heroes of the upper meadow dropped intoobscurity. Most of the mountain men saddled expeditiously but soberlytheir strong and capable mountain horses, rode the required distance,and unsaddled deftly. It was part of their everyday life to be able todo such things well. The two town boys, and, to Bob's surprise, one ofhis lumberjacks, furnished the comic relief. They frightened the horsesallotted them, to begin with; threw the saddles aboard in a mess whichit was necessary to untangle; finally clambered on awkwardly and rodeprecariously amid the yells and laughter of the spectators.
"How you expect to be a ranger, if you can't ride?" shouted some one atthe lumberjack.
"If horses don't plumb _detest_ me, I reckon I can learn!" retorted theshanty boy, stoutly. "This ain't my game!"
But when young Pollock, whom Bob recognized as Jim's oldest, was calledout, the situation was altered. He appeared leading a beautiful,half-broken bay, that snorted and planted its feet and danced away fromthe unaccustomed crowd. Nevertheless the lad, as impassive as an image,held him well in hand, awaiting Thorne's signal.
"Go!" called the Supervisor, his eyes on his watch.
The boy, still grasping the hackamore in his left hand, with his rightthrew the saddle blanket over the animal's back. Stooping again, heseized the heavy stock saddle by the horn, flipped it high in the air,and brought it across the horse with so skilful a jerk that not only didthe skirts, the heavy stirrup and the horsehair cinch fall properly, butthe cinch itself swung so far under the horse's belly that young Pollockwas able to catch it deftly before it swung back. To thrust the broadlatigo through the rings, jerk it tight, and fasten it securely was thework of an instant. With a yell to his horse the boy sprang into thesaddle. The animal bounded forward, snorting and buck-plunging, his eyewild, his nostril wide. Flung with apparent carelessness in the saddle,the rider, his body swaying and bending and giving gracefully to everybound, waved his broad hat, uttering shrill _yips_ of encouragement andadmonition to his mount. The horse straightened out and thundered swiftas an arrow toward the tree that marked the turning point. Withunslackened gait, with loosened rein, he swept fairly to the tree. Itseemed to Bob that surely the lad must overshoot the mark by many yards.But at the last instant the rider swayed backward and sidewise; thehorse set his feet, plunged mightily thrice, threw up a great cloud ofdust, and was racing back almost before the spectators could adjusttheir eyes to the change of movement. Straight to the group horse andrider raced at top speed, until the more inexperienced instinctivelyducked aside. But in time the horse sat back, slid and plunged ten feetin a spray of dust and pine needles, to come to a quivering halt. Evenbefore that young Pollock had thrown himself from the saddle. Threejerks ripped that article of furniture from its place to the earth. Theboy, with an engaging gleam of teeth, threw up both hands.
It was flash-riding, of course; but flash-riding at its best. And howthe boys enjoyed it! Now the little group of "buckeroos," heretoforerather shyly in the background, shone forth in full glory.
"Now let's see how good you are at packing," said Thorne, when the lastman had done his best or worst. "Jack," he told young Pollock, "you goup in the pasture and catch me up that old white pack mare. She'swarranted to stand like a rock."
While the boy was gone on this errand, Thorne rummaged the camp. Finallyhe laid out on the ground about a peck of loose potatoes, miscellaneousprovisions, a kettle, frying-pan, coffee-pot, tin plates, cutlery, asingle sack of barley, a pick and shovel, and a coil of rope.
"That looks like a reasonable camp outfit," remarked Thorne. "Just throwone of those pack saddles on her," he told Jack Pollock, who led up thewhite mare. "Now you boys all retire; you mustn't have a chance to learnfrom the other fellow. Hicks, you stay. Now pack that stuff on thathorse. I'll time you."
Hicks looked about him.
"Where's the kyacks?" he demanded. [Footnote: Kyacks--pack sacks slungeither side the pack saddle.]
"You don't get any kyacks," stated Thorne crisply.
"Got to pack all that stuff without 'em?"
"Sure."
Hicks set methodically to work, gathering up the loose articles,thrusting them into sacks, lashing the sacks on the crossbuck saddle. Atthe end of a half-hour, he stepped back.
"That might ride--for a while," said Thorne.
"I never pack without kyacks," said Hicks.
"So I see. Well, sit down and watch the rest of them. Ware!" Thorneshouted.
The prospector disengaged himself from the sprawling and distant group.
"Throw those things off, and empty out those bags," ordered Thorne."Now, there's your camp outfit. Pack it, as fast as you can."
Ware set to work, also deliberately, it seemed. He threw a sling, packedon his articles, and over it all drew the diamond hitch.
"Reckon that'll travel," he observed, stepping back.
"Good pack," commended Thorne briefly, as he glanced at his watch."Eleven minutes."
"Eleven minutes!" echoed Bob to California John, who sat near, "and theother man took thirty-five! Impossible! Ware didn't hurry any; he moved,if anything, slower than the other man."
"He didn't make no moves twice," pointed out California John. "He knowshow. This no-kyack business is going to puzzle plenty of those boys whocan do good, ordinary packing."
"It's near noon," Thorne was saying; "we haven't time for another ofthose duffers. I'll just call up your partner, Ware, and we'll knock offfor dinner."
The partner did as well, or even a little better, for the watch creditedhim with ten and one-half minutes, whereupon he chaffed Ware hugely.Then the pack horse was led to a patiently earned feed, while the littlegroup of rangers, with Thorne, his sister and Bob, moved slowly towardheadquarters.
"That's all this morning, boys," he told the waiting group as theypassed it. "This afternoon we'll double up a bit. The rest of you canall take a try at the packing, but at the same time we'll see who cancut down a tree quickest and best."
"Stop and eat lunch with us," Amy was urging Bob. "It's only a coldone--not even tea. I didn't want to miss the show. So it's no bother."
They all turned to and set the table under the open.
"This is great fun," said Bob gratefully, as they sat down. "Good as afield day. When do you expect to begin your examinations? That's whatthese fellows are here for, isn't it?"
He looked up to catch both Thorne and Amy looking on him with acomically hopeless air.
"You don't mean to say!" cried Bob, a light breaking in on him. "--ofcourse! I never thought----"
"What do you suppose we would examine candidates for Forest Rangerin--higher mathematics?" demanded Amy.
"Now that's practical--that's got some sense!" cried Bobenthusiastically.
Thorne, with a whimsical smile, held up his finger for silence. Throughthe thin screen of azalea bushes that fringed this open-air dining roomBob saw two men approaching down the forest. They were evidently unawar
eof observation. With considerable circumspection they drew near anddisappeared within the little tool house. Bob recognized the twolumberjacks from his own camp.
"What are those fellows after?" he demanded indignantly.
But Thorne again motioned for caution.
"I suspect," said Thorne in a low voice. "Go on eating your lunch. We'llsee."
The men were inside the tool house for some time. When they reappeared,each carried an axe. They looked about them cautiously. No one was insight. Then they thrust the axes underneath a log, and disappeared inthe direction of their own camp.
Thorne laughed aloud.
"The old foxes!" said he. "I'll bet anything you please that we'll findthe two best-balanced axes the Government owns under that log."
Such proved to be the case. Furthermore, the implements had been groundto a razor edge.
"When I mentioned tree cutting, I saw their eyes light up," said Thorne."It's always interesting in a crowd of candidates like this to see everyman cheer up when his specialty comes along." He chuckled. "Wait till Ispring the written examinations on them. Then you'll see them droop."
"What else is there?" asked Bob.
"Well, I'll organize regular survey groups--compass-man, axe-man,rod-man, chain-men--and let them run lines; and I'll make them estimatetimber, and make a sketch map or so. It's all practical."
"I should think so!" cried Bob. "I wonder if I could pass it myself." Helaughed. "I should hate to tackle tying those things on that horse--evenafter seeing those prospectors do it!"
"Most of them will go a little slow. They're used to kyacks. But you'dhave your specialty."
"What would it be?" asked Amy curiously of Bob.
The young man shook his head.
"You haven't got some nice scrappy little job, have you?" he asked,"where I can tell people to hop high? That's about all I'm good for."
"We might even have that," said Thorne, eyeing the young man'sproportions.
The Rules of the Game Page 54
