The two days following were unmarked by any special incident. Jimmie rode with the boys, becoming stronger and lighter-hearted every day. And yet they noticed a curious thing about the waif. Whenever the mysterious man was spoken of he grew somber and silent. It was as if some link existed between himself and this wanderer of the mountains. The boys put this down to the fact that possibly Jimmie felt that, like himself, this outcast of the hills was friendless and alone.

It was on the evening of the second day that they made camp beside one of those beautiful little lakes that nestle in the bosom of the mighty Rockies. Across the sheet of blue water the color of turquoise, a ridge rose steeply from the[276] very water’s edge. The pines on it were thinner than usual, and appeared singularly free from underbrush. Far above the lake the smooth ascent broke off abruptly, and there appeared to be beyond it a rocky plateau intervening between it and the farther wall of rock and snow that piled upward till it seemed to brush the sky.

While they were making camp Persimmons was gazing about and suddenly he drew Ralph’s attention to some moving objects on the snow-covered crest above the plateau. Mountain Jim was appealed to and decided that the objects were mountain goats.

“A big herd of them, too,” he declared.

“Have a look through the binoculars,” urged Ralph, borrowing the professor’s glasses which he was far too busy with his rock specimens to use. Indeed, he hailed Ralph’s excited announcement with only mild interest, being at that moment entering in his note-book a voluminous account of his discovery of some metamorphic[277] rock in a region where none was thought previously to exist.

The glasses revealed the objects as mountain goats beyond a doubt. They were big, white fellows with high, humped shoulders and delicate hind quarters and black hoofs and horns. They looked not unlike miniature bisons, although of course the resemblance was only superficial.

While they still gazed at the moving objects on the snow-capped ridge, Mountain Jim suddenly uttered a sharp exclamation.

“Look close now,” said he, “for you’ll see something worth looking at in a minute or two, or I miss my guess.”

The goats were at the summit of what appeared to be an absolutely precipitous rock wall. From where they watched it did not appear that a fly could have found foothold on its surface. The goats had paused. Ralph drew in a deep breath.

“Gracious! I do believe they are going to try to get down it,” he exclaimed.

[278]

“And that ain’t all,” declared Mountain Jim. “They’re going to succeed, too. Watch ’em.”

The leader of the goats gave a leap that must have been fully twenty feet to a ridge which was hardly perceptible even through the glasses. He stood poised there for a second and then made a breath-catching plunge off into space. The place on the ledge that he had just vacated was immediately occupied by one of his followers, while he himself found footing on nothing, so far as the boys could see. It was a thrilling performance to watch the goats as they made their way down that rock-face to the feeding grounds. Sometimes the leader would take a leap that would make the performance of a flying squirrel seem tame by comparison. And his followers, among them some ewes, were by no means behind him in feats of agility.

“I’ve seen ’em come down a gully that looked like a chimney with one side out,” said Mountain Jim as he watched. “Old hunters say that when[279] they miss their footing they save their heads from being caved in by landing on their horns, but I don’t take any stock in that.”

“Don’t they ever miss their footing?” cried Ralph wonderingly.

“Well, I’ve traveled aroun’ these parts fer a good many years,” replied Jim judicially, “and I ain’t never found hair nor hide of a carcass killed that way, and no more I reckon did anybody else.”

Jim went on to describe to the boys how wise and cunning the mountain goats are, gifted with an intelligence far beyond that possessed by most wild creatures. He also related to them an anecdote concerning an ewe whom he had seen defend her kid from the attack of an eagle. The eagle had swooped down on the kid and knocked it head over heels. It was about to fix its talons into the fleecy coat and fly off to its eerie with the little creature, when the old mother became aware of what was going on. Like a thunderbolt[280] she charged down on the eagle, which tried in vain to get away. But its own greediness proved its undoing, for its talons were tangled in the young goat’s coat and it could not rise, and the mother speedily tramped and butted it to death. While she was doing this some old rams looked on as if it were no concern of theirs. They seemed to know that the mother was quite able to fight her own battles.

“Think there’s any chance of our getting a shot at them?” asked young Ware, vibrant with excitement.

“Don’t see why not,” responded Mountain Jim. “It’s not a hard climb up there, and I reckon they’ll stay there till to-morrow anyhow, as there’s pasturage and grass on the plateau and they’re working down to it.”

The professor demurred at first at allowing the boys to go hunting the goats, but after Jim had promised to bring them back safe and sound he gave his consent. Early the next day, therefore,[281] the party set out, leaving on............