"Look!" cried Dave, pointing with his hand. "Am I mistaken, or are those deer?"
He was pointing to the top of another hill about half a mile distant. There, outlined against the sky, could be seen a number of animals grazing.
"Deer, my boy!" cried Sid Todd. "A fine lot of 'em, too, or I'm mistaken!"
"Oh, let us go after them!" exclaimed Roger, impulsively.
"I'm willing," answered the cowboy. "But I don't know if you can get any of 'em to-night. It will be a hard climb to where they are. I don't know as we can go all the way on hosses."
"Then we'll go on foot," cried Dave. He was as anxious as his chums to get a shot at the big game.
The cowboy studied the situation for several minutes, meanwhile withdrawing himself and the others to a spot where the distant deer might not see them. Then he led the party down the hill and in the direction of the game.
If traveling had been hard before, it was doubly so now, and the chums realized that to get to where the deer were grazing would be no easy matter. They had to slip and slide over the rocks, and once or twice they reached places where further progress seemed impossible.
"If we get any of those deer, we'll earn them!" panted Phil, as he half climbed, half slid, over some rocks. "If my horse goes down, I don't know what will happen to me!" he added.
"We'll not go much further on hossback, I'm thinking," answered Todd. "We can't afford to injure our animals."
Between the hills was a small valley and here the cowboy said they had better tether their steeds and leave them.
"Even if we don't get back, they'll likely be safe till morning," he added.
"If we have to remain away all night, we had better take some eating with us," said Phil.
"We sure will," answered Todd, and he gave each of the party something to carry on his back and in his gamebag.
"Now for a climb that is a climb!" cried Dave. "Roger, this puts me in mind of some climbing I did in Norway."
"Were you in Norway?" questioned Sid Todd, curiously.
"Oh, yes, I once went there to find my father," answered Dave.
Before them was a steep incline, covered with stones and a stunted growth of cedars. Up this they went with care, for some of the stones were loose and afforded only an uncertain footing. Once Phil slipped and commenced to roll. He bumped against Dave, and both went flat.
"Grab a tree!" sang out Roger. But there was no need to offer this advance, for Dave had already done so. He saved himself and Phil from rolling further. But a frying-pan the shipowner's son carried broke loose from the pack on his back and went clattering down the rocks to the very foot of the hill.
"For the love of flapjacks, stop that noise!" cried Sid Todd, in a low voice. "Time you get to the top of the hill them deer will be ten miles away!"
"I—I couldn't help it," answered Phil, as he arose and gazed sorrowfully after the frying-pan. "Shall I go back after it?" he asked.
"Where is it?"
"I see it—sticking in the fork of a cedar tree," answered Roger, and pointed out the pan.
"Let it alone—we can get it when we come back," said the cowboy. "Now don't make any more noise, or you won't get no chanct at them deer, mark my words!"
All of the boys understood the importance of keeping quiet, and as they neared the top of the hill where the deer had been discovered, they moved with great caution and spoke only in whispers.
"The wind is blowing toward us, and that's in our favor," said Sid Todd.
"I know it," answered Dave. "Deer can scent a fellow a long way off if the wind is towards them."
The cowboy now took the lead and told the lads not to make a sound that was unnecessary. Thus they covered another hundred yards. Here was a ridge of rocks and beyond the top of the hill.
"They are gone!" murmured Roger, as his eyes discovered that the top of the hill was abandoned.
"I'll crawl forward and take a look," said Todd. "Keep quiet now, or we won't git nuthin'."
The cowboy disappeared over the top of the hill, crawling forward on his hands and knees. He was gone fully ten minutes—a time that to the boys, just then, seemed like an age. They looked to their weapons, to see that the firearms were ready for use.
Presently Dave, who was on the watch, saw Todd arise in a clump of bushes on the other side of the hilltop. He was beckoning for the boys to advance. One hand he held over his mouth, to enjoin silence.
With their hearts beating more rapidly than usual, the three young hunters wormed their way over the top of the hill and joined the cowboy. In silence Todd pointed to a distance below them. There, on a sort of cliff on the hillside, were the deer, ten in number, grazing peacefully.
"Oh, what a shot!" whispered Dave, and his eyes brightened as he swung his gun into position.
"Wait!" said Todd, in a whisper. "I'll take the one on the right. You take the one on the left."
"I'll take the one close to the tree," whispered the senator's son.
"And I'll take the one by the big rock," added Phil.
"All right," agreed the cowboy. "Now, remember, if some are only wounded, shoot at 'em again, any one of you. And be quick, for they'll streak it like greased lightning as soon as the guns go off."
All took aim with care, resting their gun-barrels on the bushes before them. Then the cowboy gave the order to fire.
As if by instinct the deer looked up just as the order to fire was given. They were fairly close to hand and afforded good targets for the hunters. The firearms rang out almost simultaneously, and two of the deer leaped into the air, to fall back dead. The others started to run, some jumping from the top of the cliff to the rocks far below. Again the weapons were discharged, and this time a third deer fell. The fourth was badly wounded and toppled down in a split of the cliff.
"Hurrah! we've got 'em! We've got 'em!" cried Phil, and commenced to leap about in pure joy.
"We've got 'em—to get!" answered Sid Todd. "But you did well—all of you!" he added, admiringly.
"How are we to get down to the cliff?" questioned Roger, anxiously.
"The deer got down—we had better follow their trail," answered Dave.
They made an examination, and presently found a run leading to one end of the cliff. The walking was dangerous and they had to be careful, for fear of going further than intended. But inside of a quarter of an hour all were standing where the deer had stood. They found three of the game dead and quickly put the fourth out of its misery.
"This is worth coming for," declared Dave, with pride.
"It is indeed—even if we don't get anything else," added Phil.
"But we are going to get more," cried Roger, the fever of the hunter taking possession of him. "Just wait till we strike an elk, or a bear!"
"No more hunting this day," sang out Todd. "Time we take care of these animals and make a camp it will be dark."
* * *
CHAPTER XXVII
THE MOUNTAIN LION
"What are we to do with so much venison?" questioned the senator's son. "We can't eat it, and it seems a shame to allow it to go to waste."
"I wish we could send some to the ranch," said Dave. "I'd like the girls to know how lucky we have been the first day out."
"If you wanted to stay here and camp for a day, I could take some of the game to the ranch," said Sid Todd.
"But it is such a ride," argued Phil. "We don't want to impose on good nature."
"I won't mind the ride. But can you boys take care of yourselves while I am gone?"
"To be sure we can," answered Dave.
"Then I'll take three of the deer with me and come back as soon as I can. One deer will be all you will need," answered Sid Todd.
To get the deer from the cliff they had to use a long lariat the cowboy had brought with him. By this means the game was hoisted to the hilltop. Then they "toted" their loads down to where they had left their horses.
"I'll take two of the hosses, if you don't mind," said the cowboy, and it was agree
d that he should take Dave's animal along with his own. He decided to start for the ranch that night, stating he would camp at the spot where they had had dinner.
The boys found a locality that pleased them, and there erected the tent and started a campfire. The frying-pan had been recovered from where it had landed and restored to the outfit. Before leaving them, Todd showed the boys how to skin the deer and cut up the meat.
For a little while after they were left alone the chums felt somewhat lonely. They piled the wood on the fire, thereby creating a lively blaze, and fixed themselves a substantial meal of venison steak, flapjacks and coffee, and took their time over the repast. By the time they had finished, night had fallen over the hills and mountains, and one by one the stars showed themselves in the heavens.
"This certainly is Lonesomehurst!" was the comment of the shipowner's son, as he gazed around the camp. "When you really get to think of it, it gives one the shivers!"
"Then don't think about it," answered Dave. "Let us be cheerful and tell ghost stories. I know a dandy story—about four travelers who were murdered in some lonely mountains by brigands, and——"
"You shut up!" cried Roger. "Don't you want a fellow to sleep to-night?"
"But I thought you wanted me to tell a story," went on Dave, innocently.
"I don't want to listen to such a story as that!"
"Nor do I!" added Phil. "Let's talk about schooldays, and the last game of football, or baseball, or something like that."
"If only the other fellows were here," murmured Dave. "Shadow Hamilton, and Buster Beggs, and Polly Vane, and Luke Watson, and——"
"Luke could give us a tune on his banjo," put in the senator's son.
"Yes, and Shadow would tell funny stories, not ghost stories," added Phil.
"We'll have a story or two to tell, when we get back to Oak Hall," continued Dave. "I wish we could have had one of the deer stuffed for the museum."
"Too late now. But maybe we'll get another," answered Phil.
All of the boys were tired, yet it was nearly ten o'clock before any of them felt like turning in. As the night wore on the place seemed to become more lonely.
"Might as well go to bed," said Dave, at last. "We need a good rest."
"Anybody going to stay on guard?" asked the senator's son.
"Do you think it necessary, Roger?"
"I don't know."
"What do you say, Phil?"
"I am too sleepy now to remain on guard," answered Phil. "You can do so if you wish."
"Oh, what cheek!" murmured Roger. "All right, we'll all turn in and chance it."
"Let's fix the fire first," said Dave. "A blaze usually helps to keep away wild beasts."
"Oh, if any come, I reckon the horses will give us warning," said Phil. "We can tie them close by." And this plan was carried out.
Some cedar boughs had been strewn on the floor of the tent, and on these the chums laid down, and did their best to go to sleep. Dave dropped off first, and was presently followed by Roger. But Phil was restless and turned from one side to the other.
"Oh, pshaw! why can't I sleep?" murmured the shipowner's son to himself in disgust, and then out of curiosity he looked at his watch. By the glare from the campfire he saw that it was nearly one o'clock.
He was just straightening out again when a peculiar rustling among the horses caught his ears. He listened for a moment, then sat up straight.
"Something doesn't suit them," he reasoned. "Wonder what it can be?"
He hesitated, then turned over on his hands and knees and crawled to the opening of the tent and peered around outside. The campfire had burned rather low, so that objects a short distance away were indistinct. He saw that the horses were huddled together and had their heads turned toward a clump of bushes at one side of the shelter.
"Something must be over yonder," reasoned the youth. "Wonder if I had better arouse the others?"
He looked at Dave and Roger. Both were sleeping so peacefully Phil hated to disturb them. He reached for his gun and looked out again.
There was a brushing aside of the clump of bushes and a pair of eyes glared forth, glistening brightly in the firelight. The eyes were those of some wild beast, but what, Phil could not tell.
The animal was not looking at Phil, but at the carcass of the deer, which had been hung up in a low tree not far from the clump of bushes. Stealthily the animal came into the opening, and with the ease of a cat, leaped into the tree.
"It's a wildcat—or something like it," thought Phil, and raised his gun to fire. Then of a sudden he commenced to shake from head to foot, so that to aim was entirely out of the question. He had what is commonly called among hunters "buck fever," a sudden fear that often overtakes amateur hunters when trying to shoot at big game.
"Oh, what a fool I am!" the boy told himself, and tried vainly to steady his nerves. He hit the front tent pole with his foot, making considerable noise.
"What's the matter?" cried Dave, waking and leaping to his feet. "What are you doing, Phil?"
"Noth—nothing," stammered the shipowner's son. "I—I—there is something in the tree!" And then, raising his gun, Phil banged away blindly.
The echo of the shot was followed by an unearthly scream from the tree, and Phil and Dave saw the wild animal slip down from a branch and then try to regain its footing. Then Dave caught up one of the rifles and blazed away, and the beast dropped to the ground, where it twisted and snarled and yelped in a fashion that served to drive the horses frantic.
"What's going on?" cried Roger, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Who is shooting?" And he got up and felt around in a haphazard manner for a gun.
"Wild animal outside—I don't know what it is," answered Dave.
Roger joined the others, and blazed away at the beast, and more snapping and snarling followed. The animal rolled clear over the fire, scattering the burning brands in all directions. Then it rolled among the horses. One steed after another kicked at it, and a flying hoof sent it against the tree with a thud. Then it lay quiet.
"Must be dead," said Dave, after a pause.
"Don't go near it!" screamed Phil.
"I won't—not yet," answered Dave. "We'll fix up the fire first." And he kicked the dying embers together and put more wood on the blaze. While he did this, Phil and Roger watched the huddled-up form at the foot of the tree. The horses still snorted and did their best to get away.
"I guess it is dead after all," said Phil, after he had poked the beast with a stick. "Wonder what it can be?"
"Looks a little like a big wildcat," said Roger.
"I know what it is," answered Dave, after all were certain the beast was dead and they had dragged it over to the fire. "It's a cougar, or mountain lion,—one of the worst wild beasts to be found in the West."
"Then it's no wonder I got scared when first I saw it," said Phil. "My, what a powerful animal! And it must weigh fifty or sixty pounds."
"All of that, Phil."
"Is this the beast some call a panther or painter?" asked Roger.
"Yes, Roger. I was reading about them in a natural history, and the cougar, mountain lion, puma, panther, and painter are all the same beast. Years ago they were common all over the United States, but now they are to be found only in the Far West and in the South. I think we can count it a big feather in our cap that we killed a cougar."
"Do you think he was going to attack us?" asked the senator's son, with a shiver.
"He was after the deer. But there is no telling what he might have done. I am glad he is dead. Phil, it was lucky you heard the beast."
"Talk about excitement!" cried the shipowner's son. "I rather think we are getting it! Rattlesnakes, deer, and a panther, all in one day and night!"
"That is certainly piling it on some," admitted Dave. "But to-morrow may pass without a thing doing."
"More than likely," returned Roger. "Things always happen in bunches, you know."
The boys examined the cougar with interest. It was abou
t four and a half feet in length and not unlike a young lion in appearance. It had been hit in the face and in the forelegs, and had died hard. Evidently it had hoped to carry off the slain deer while the young hunters slept.
"A cougar has been known to carry off a little child," said Dave. "They are very crafty as well as brave, and will attack both a horse and a man. I think we can count ourselves lucky to come out of this fight without a scratch."
"No more sleeping for me without a guard," said Roger. "Let us take turns at staying up and looking after the fire and the horses." And to this the others readily agreed.
Morning found them still tired out and willing enough to rest. They got a late breakfast and tethered the horses in a new spot, and cut sufficient firewood to last for twenty-four hours. Nobody thought of doing anything until after lunch, and then Roger suggested they try their hand at fishing in a mountain brook which ran down between the two hills.
"All right," answered Dave. "But do you think we ought to leave the camp all alone?"
"Oh, I don't think anybody will hurt it in the daylight," answered the senator's son.
They had to tramp about a quarter of a mile to reach the stream and then an equal distance to gain a spot that looked suited to their purpose. Phil was the first to throw in, and was rewarded almost immediately by a bite.
"This looks as if it was worth while," said Dave, and baited up. Fish were there in plenty, and for an hour the boys amused themselves to their hearts' content. By that time each had a string of fifteen to twenty mountain brook trout of fair size.
"We'll have a dandy fish supper!" cried Roger, smacking his lips.
"It will be a change from the venison, and I'll be glad of it," returned Dave.
"I am going to try my luck for a short while up the stream," called out Phil, who was some distance away from the others.
"Don't go too far," said Dave. "I am going to rest here," and he threw himself on the grass, and Roger followed his example.
The two boys left behind rested for the best part of half an hour. Then, thinking it was time for Phil to rejoin them, they called their chum's name.
Dave Porter at Star Ranch Page 17
