When Big Thompson returned from his hunt, half an hour later, carrying over his shoulder a haunch of venison wrapped in the skin of a red deer, he was astonished to find his employer hard at work gathering a supply of fuel. His bed of boughs had been removed, and its place was occupied by a roaring fire, which had been kindled close against the base of the rock. “I did that because we haven’t any blankets, and the night promises to be a cold one,” said Oscar, who was himself again. “As soon as the ground and the rock are sufficiently warmed we’ll take the fire away, put our beds there, and sleep as comfortably as we could in the cabin.”
“Sho!” exclaimed the guide. “I have warmed my bed that way lots of times. But who larnt ye so much?”
293“I got the idea from a book I read long ago.”
The guide, who had often wondered at his young employer’s knowledge of woodcraft, was obliged to confess that books might be of some use, after all.
They had certainly been of use to Oscar, who knew many things about a hunter’s life with which the majority of sportsmen into whose company Big Thompson had been thrown were entirely unacquainted.
By the time the steaks which the hunter cut from the haunch had been broiled on the coals, Oscar had thrown together a pile of firewood large enough to last all night. The fire threw out a very bright light; and, by the aid of it, he worked at his bear until nearly twelve o’clock.
Big Thompson had in the meantime raked the fire away from the rock and placed two beds of boughs there, and when Oscar took possession of the one that had been arranged for himself he was surprised to find how warm and comfortable it was.
His sleep was sound and refreshing, in spite 294of the want of blankets; and the next morning’s breakfast, although it consisted of nothing but a piece of venison washed down with a cup of cold water from the brook, was eaten with a relish.
At nine o’clock the hunters started for their camp in the valley, Big Thompson leading the way with the skin and bones of Old Ephraim on his back, and Oscar following with the hide of the red deer, which was much too valuable to be left behind for the wolves.
The boy’s load grew larger and heavier before they reached the cabin, for they stopped on the way to look at his traps. Some of them had been sprung without catching anything; in others the bait was missing (this proved that that thieving wolverine had been at it again); but the rest had done their full duty, and twenty dollars’ worth of skins were that night added to those that were to be sold to replace the amount he had taken from the committee’s money.
The third day after this was the one Big Thompson had set for his departure for the post. He and his employer were up at four 295o’clock, and while one was preparing breakfast and making up a bundle of provisions for the journey, the other brightened up the fire and sat by it while he wrote a hasty letter to the secretary of the committee and to Sam Hynes, in both of which he gave a short account of the manner in which he had secured the skin of the first grizzly.
He told Sam that he intended to accompany his guide a mile or two on his journey; but instead of that he went with him to the mouth of the gorge, which was at least twelve miles from the camp.
When they reached it Big Thompson put on his snow-shoes and turned to take leave of his companion, and this time he showed considerable feeling over it. He had not yet forgotten that the boy had saved his life.
“Now, perfessor,” said he, extending his hand, which Oscar took after some hesitation, “thar’s one thing I see about ye that I don’t seem to like fust-rate. Ye haint been trounced half enough, kase ye haint never been larnt how to mind. I told ye, t’other day, to go straight to the cabin an’ stay thar; but when 296I cum back I found ye camped thar under the bluff. Sich doin’s as them won’t go down with Big Thompson. Now I tell ye ag’in to draw a bee-line for the shanty; an’ that don’t mean for ye to go philanderin’ off alone by yerself in the hills. ’Taint kase I’m afeard of yer bein’ chawed up by some varmint, fur a boy who kin kill the fust grizzly he ever seed with one bullet is able to take keer on hisself. ’Taint that I’m afeard of, but it’s somehow kinder been a-runnin’ in my mind that sunthin’s goin’ to happen to ye; an’ if ye say the word I won’t budge another inch.”
“Nonsense!” laughed Oscar. “I tell you to go, and may good luck attend you. If there are any letters or papers for me at the post I want them.”
“Very good; yer the boss. But when I tell ye to keep outen them hills ye’d best do it; kase why, I’ve knowed better hunters than me an’ you ever dare be to go off alone by theirselves an’ never come back. It’s mighty easy, when the snow’s as deep as it is now, fur a feller to roll over into a gulch an’ break his leg or twist his ankle, an’ if ye done that ye’d 297freeze or starve without nobody to help ye. I’ve knowed sich things to happen more’n onct.”
“Don’t worry about that,” replied Oscar. “I promise you that I’ll not go out of the valley while you are gone. I will do no hunting at all until I get out of meat. Now good-by. Don’t waste an hour, for I shall be lonely without you. And I say, Thompson, don’t forget to bring that thing, whatever it is, that you use in hunting mule-deer.”
The guide turned away without making any reply. He could not trust himself to speak.
Oscar, who stood there leaning on his rifle, and watching him as he moved rapidly on his snow-shoes over the tops of the drifts, little dreamed how hard it was for the hunter to set out on his lonely tramp that morning.
He cared nothing at all for the journey, for he had often made longer and more difficult ones; but, somehow, his heart had grown very tender toward the boy of late, and he could not bear to part from him.
The guide never stopped to look back. Oscar kept his eyes fastened upon him as long 298as he remained in sight, and when at last he disappeared around a bend in the gorge the young hunter shouldered his rifle and turned his face toward the brook.
“He’ll certainly succeed this time,” said he to himself; “and when he comes back I shall have letters from home. In the meantime I shall learn how it seems to be alone in the hills. Thompson needn’t be at all afraid that I shall go out of the valley. I have no desire to meet Old Ephraim’s brother, and if I should happen to fall over a cliff and hurt myself I should be in a fix indeed. I never thought of that.”
The guide’s traps and deadfalls, which were all set in the lower end of the valley, were better than his own, or else that wolverine never visited them, for in every one that was sprung that morning the boy found something to take home with him.
They were all carefully reset, fresh bait was supplied for those that needed it, and Oscar spent so much time at this work that he did not reach the cabin until near the middle of the afternoon.
299The remaining hours of daylight were spent i............