Part 12 (1/2)

X: AMONG THE MOUNTAINS

After we got back to the Rattletrap we promised ourselves plenty of Sport the next day watching the freighters with their long teams and wagon trains. Jack could not recover from his first glimpse of Henderson.

”Rather a neat little turnout to take a young lady out driving with,” he said, after we had gone to bed. ”Twenty-two oxen and four wagons. Plenty of room. Take along her father and mother. And the rest of the family. And her school-mates. And the whole town. Good team to go after the doctor with if somebody was sick--mile and a half an hour. That trotting-cow man at Yankton ought to come up here and show Henderson a little speed. Still, I dare say Henderson could beat Old Browny on a good day for sleeping, and when he didn't have Blacky to pall him along.”

But we got small sight of the trail the next day, as the rain we had left behind came upon us again in greater force than ever.

It began toward morning, and when we looked out, just as it was becoming light, we found it coming down in sheets--”cold, wet sheets,” as Ollie said, too. The horses stood huddled together, wet and chilled. We got on our storm-coats and led them up to a house a sort distance away, which proved to be Smith's ranch.

There we found large, dry sheds, under which we put them and where they were very glad to go. Once back in the cabin of the Rattletrap, we scarcely ventured out again.

It certainly wasn't a very cheerful day. We would not have minded the rain much, because we were dry enough; but the cold was disagreeable, and we were obliged to wear our overcoats all day. We could watch the road from the front of the wagon, and saw a number of freighters go by, usually with empty wagons, as it soon became too muddy for those with loads. We saw one fourteen-ox team with four wagons, and another man with twelve oxen and three wagons. There were also a number of mule teams, and we noticed one of twelve mules and five wagons, and several of ten mules and three or four wagons. With these the driver always rode the nigh wheel animal--that is, the left-hand rear one.

”I'm going to put a saddle on Old Blacky and ride him after this,” said Jack. ”Bound to be in the fas.h.i.+on. Wonder how Henderson is getting along in the mud? A mile in two hours, I suppose. Must be impossible for him to see the head oxen through this rain.”

The downpour never stopped all day. We tried letter-writing, but it was too cold to hold the pen; and Jack's efforts at playing the banjo proved equally unsuccessful. We fell back on reading, but even this did not seem to be very satisfactory. So we finally settled down to watching the rain and listening to the wind.

When evening came we shut down the front of the cover and tried to warm up the cabin a little by leaving the oil-stove burning, but it didn't seem to make much difference. So we soon went to bed, rather damp, somewhat cold, and a little dispirited.

I think we all stayed awake for a long time listening to the beating of the rain on the cover, and wondering about the weather of the morrow.

When we awoke in the morning it did not take long to find out about the weather. The rain had ceased and the sky was clear, but it was colder. Outside we found ice on the little pools of water in the footprints of the horses. We were stiff and cold. Some of us may have thought of the comforts of home, but none of us said anything about them.

”This is what I like,” said Jack. ”Don't feel I'm living unless I find my shoes frozen in the morning. Like to break the ice when I go to wash my face and hands, and to have my hair freeze before I can comb it.”

But we observed that he kept as close to the camp-fire which we started as any of us. We went up to Smith's to look after the horses. While Jack and I were at the sheds Ollie stayed in the road watching the freight teams. A big swarthy man, over six feet in height, came along, and after looking over the fence at Smith's house some time, said to Ollie:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Effect of a Dog on a Mexican]

”Do you s'pose Smith's at home?”

”Oh, I guess so,” answered Ollie.

”I'd like to see him,” went on the man, with an uneasy air.

”Probably you'll find him eating breakfast,” said Ollie.

”I don't like to go in,” said the man. ”Why not?”

”I'm--I'm afraid of the dog.”

”Oh!” replied Ollie. ”Well, I'm not. Come on,” and he stalked ahead very bravely, while the man followed cautiously behind.

”He's a Mexican,” said Smith in explanation afterwards. ”All Mexicans are afraid of dogs.”

”That's a pretty broad statement,” said Jack, after Smith had gone. ”I believe, if there was a good reward offered, that I could find a Mexican who isn't afraid of dogs. Though perhaps it's the hair they're afraid of; Mexican dogs don't have any, you know.”

”Don't any of them have hair?” asked Ollie.

”Not a hair,” answered his truthful uncle. ”I don't suppose a Mexican dog would know a hair if he saw it.”

”I think that's a bigger story than Smith's,” said Ollie.