Part 8 (1/2)

”How careless in him to leave us thus alone,” remarked Fred, with mock reproof.

”Do you wish he hadn't done so?”

”Don't name it!” exclaimed Fred, with a shudder; ”he knew the only way of saving our lives. It wouldn't have done for him to postpone it another hour.”

Hank Hazletine was never more welcome than when he entered the grove and let fall from his shoulders the carca.s.s of a half-grown calf, plump, juicy, tender, and in the best of condition.

”I don't s'pose you care much 'bout it, but I feel like having something worth while for breakfast,” he remarked, proceeding to prepare the coals, for he had dressed the veal before starting on his return.

”Well,” said Fred, with a.s.sumed indifference, ”I suspect that since you intend to partake of food yourself, we may as well join you for the sake of sociability.”

Men like the old hunter are adepts at preparing a meal. The smouldering fire was in good condition for broiling, and when raked apart afforded a bed of live coals, over which generous slices were suspended on green twigs, cut from the nearest trees. It took but a few minutes to prepare the meat. Hank always carried with him a box of mixed pepper and salt, whose contents were sprinkled over the toothsome food, of which the three ate their fill.

”Are there any more of these animals left in the neighborhood?” asked Jack, when their appet.i.tes were fully satisfied.

”S'pose you go out on the edge of the timber and larn for yourselves.”

The lads followed the suggestion. Looking off in the direction of the Wind River Mountains, it seemed to them that tens of thousands of cattle were browsing among the foot-hills and on the gra.s.sy plain, while many more must have been beyond sight. This was one of the choicest regions of Wyoming, so widely celebrated for its grazing facilities.

It was an impressive sight, and the boys, each of whom was provided with a good spy-gla.s.s, surveyed the scene for some minutes in wondering silence. The cattle were several miles distant, and seemed to be brown, undulating hummocks of dirt, kept in constant motion by some force beneath. On the outer fringe they were more scattered, but were constantly moving, as if the pasturage was so excellent that they were continually tempted to give up that which was good for that which looked better.

”Are they left wholly to themselves?” asked Fred, as the youths came back to where the guide was saddling his pony.

”No. There are always two or three men looking after them. I seed Bart Coinjock, one of our own cowboys, 'tending our animals, and he told me to take my ch'ice from the lot. You mustn't forgit that we're purty close to the Wind River Injin Reservation, where the Government has several tribes under charge.”

This was news to the boys. Hazletine explained that a large tract of land to the northwest and close to the mountains had been set apart some years before by the United States Government for exclusive occupancy by several tribes of Indians. They owned the land, and no white man had the right to intrude upon them.

In the Southwest, where the Apaches were placed on reservations, there had been the most frightful trouble, for those Indians are the worst in North America. All our readers know how many times the fierce Geronimo and a few of his hostiles broke away from their reservation, and, riding swiftly through Arizona and New Mexico, spread desolation, woe and death in their path. Not until Geronimo and his worst bucks were run down in old Mexico and transported bodily to the East was the danger to the Southwest terminated.

Nothing of the kind has taken place in Wyoming, Montana, the Dakotas and other reservations further east, but there is always a certain number of malcontents on the reservations who cause trouble. They steal away unnoticed by the authorities, and engage in thieving, and, when the chances are favorable against detection, commit graver crimes.

”That Injin that come into the timber last night was a sort of dog Injin that had come down from the Wind River Reservation to find out what he could steal.”

The boys looked at each other in astonishment. They had made no reference to the visitor in the hearing of the guide, and could not understand where he had gained his knowledge. He noticed their surprise, and smiled.

”I seed the tracks of his pony, as well as his own. It was as plain to me as the words of a printed book. Why didn't you shoot the chap?”

Thus appealed to, Jack told the story. Hazletine listened with an expression of amused contempt on his bearded face.

”You'll git over that afore you've been here long. I think I know who he was. Tell me how he looked.”

Jack was able to give a good description of his visitor, and before it was finished the guide nodded his head several times.

”It was him, Motoza, one of the worst scamps west of the Mississippi.”

”What do you suppose he was after?”

”He'll steal anything he can lay his hands on. If he'd found us all asleep he'd shot every one of us. That's the kind of a feller Motoza is.

You played it well on him, catching him as you did, but you'd played it a hanged sight better if you'd put a bullet through him afore you asked any questions.”

”What tribe does he belong to?”