“I say, perfessor, what in creation brung that thar brother of yours out to this country, and throwed him into the company of such a varmint as that Lish?” asked Big Thompson, as Oscar joined him at the woodpile the next morning, where he stood taking an observation of the weather.
“Oh, he came out here to make his fortune; and, like a good many others who have tried it, he spent all his money, and had to take up with the first thing that came in his way.”
With this introduction, Oscar went on to tell as much of Tom’s history as he was willing the guide should know. He went more into the particulars of the matter than he would have done under almost any other circumstances, for he saw very plainly that his companion was not at all pleased to have Tom there.
390He very naturally supposed that anyone who could willingly associate with such a fellow as the wolfer must of necessity be as bad and worthless as he was, and Oscar’s first task was to free his mind from this impression. His next was to awaken sympathy for the unfortunate Tom, and in both these efforts he succeeded beyond his expectations.
He had the gratification of seeing that, after his conversation with him, Big Thompson was as friendly toward Tom as he was toward himself.
“He is not going home with me,” said Oscar in conclusion. “He came out here with a good deal of money in his pocket, and I don’t blame him for wanting to stay until that money is all replaced. When we get to the fort I am going to see what I can do for him.”
Oscar felt better after this talk with his guide, and urged him to hurry up the breakfast, as he was impatient to see that fine hunting dog at work.
He made all sorts of sport of the shaggy, ill-looking little fellow, who must have understood some of his disparaging remarks, for he 391promptly and fiercely resented every attempt that Oscar made to scrape an acquaintance with him. Big Thompson only grinned and nodded his head, as if to say, “Wait and see,” and so confident was he of success during the coming hunt that he told Tom to follow about a mile in their rear with the mule, and come up to them when he heard them shoot.
Breakfast over, the two hunters set out on foot, Big Thompson carrying his dog under his arm; and, after three hours’ rapid walking through the willows that lined the banks of the brook, they came within sight of the grove at the upper end of the valley. When they had approached within a quarter of a mile of it, the boy’s heart bounded with hope, for he saw a large elk—the very one he wanted most—walk out of the timber, take a look about him, and then walk back again.
The guide now took the lead, moving with noiseless steps, and Oscar followed close behind.
They approached within less than two hundred yards of the grove without alarming the game, and there they halted. It was evident that a number of elk were browsing in the 392grove, for the bushes could be heard crashing in every direction.
“Now, then,” whispered the guide, lifting the dog in the air, so that he could look over the thicket behind which they had crept for concealment, “do you hear ’em in thar? If yer sartin ye do, go in and fetch ’em out.”
He placed the dog upon the ground, and the little animal was off like a shot. He ran with surprising swiftness across the intervening space, and disappeared in the grove, which presently began to echo with his shrill bark.
This was followed by an increased commotion in the bushes, and Oscar’s first thought was that the insignificant little beast was driving the elk away; but Big Thompson must have had a different opinion, for just then he laid his hand on the boy’s arm, and said, in a very low tone:
“He’s found ’em. Get yer we’pon ready, kase he’ll fetch ’em out in plain sight afore long.”
And so it proved. The lordly elk, finding themselves pursued by so small an animal—the like of which they had never seen before—stopped 393and stared at him with great curiosity; and finally, becoming annoyed by his constant yelping, they began to show their displeasure by stamping their fore feet on the ground and making short dashes at him.
As fast as they advanced, the dog retreated in the direction of the willows in which the hunters were concealed; and a few minutes later he came pell-mell out of the bushes, closely pursued by one of the does.
Then Oscar saw, for the first time, what the dog’s tactics were. As soon as the doe stopped, he wheeled about and began barking at her again, keeping just far enough away to be out of reach of her dangerous hoofs, and close enough to annoy her.
The rest of the herd came out, one after the other—there must have been twenty-five or thirty of them in all—and the last one that appeared was the big elk.
He took up a position between the doe and his companions; and, after making one or two unsuccessful efforts to strike him with his hoofs, stood still and shook his horns at him. The animals were all so much interested in 394Pink and his movements that they did not seem to think of anything else.
“What do ye think of that mis’able leetle cur dorg now, perfessor?” whispered the guide, as Oscar cocked his rifle and raised it slowly and cautiously to his shoulder. “Take all the time ye want, and don’t shoot till yer hands is stiddy and ye kin git a fair squint. If they don’t wind us, Pink’ll fetch ’em right into—— I say, ye done it, didn’t ye?”
While the guide was uttering these words of caution and advice, Oscar’s rifle spoke; and the big elk, pierced through the spine, fell to his knees and rolled over dead.
The rest of the herd fled in the greatest confusion; and Pink, alarmed by the noise of the hoofs, and believing, no doubt, that they were about to charge him in a body, took to his heels and made all haste to get into the willows; but, finding that he was not pursued, he quickly mustered up courage sufficient to run back to the prostrate elk, which he was the first of the party to examine.
“I’ve got him at last, thanks to you, Thompson,” said Oscar, as he leaned on his 395rifle and looked down at the fallen monarch. “In all my collection there is but one specimen that I value more highly than this one, and that is the grizzly. Pink, you’re a brick, and I’ll never make sport of you again.”
The dog evidently did not appreciate the compliment, or else he did not put any faith in the promise; for, when Oscar attempted to lay his hand on his head, the little animal backed away and growled savagely at him.
Tom presently came up with the mule, and, in two hours more, the new specimen had been carried to the cabin and Oscar was hard at work upon it.
This was Oscar’s last notable exploit among the foot-hills. Of course the sport did not end with the shooting of the monarch elk, for there were still many animals in the valley that were not represented in his collection, and Oscar’s efforts to secure them were not always unattended by danger.
He kept on adding to his specimens, and now and then he did something in a quiet way that made him feel good for a week.
One of these achievements was the bagging 396of the wolverine which had so often robbed his traps. The animal was fairly outdone in cunning, and knocked over when he did not know that there was an enemy near him.
The rest of the winter was passed in much the same way as were the days whose incidents we have so minutely described. The hunters devoted a good deal of their time to trapping, and their pile of ............