“Fine!” Fred responded enthusiastically, “that is, if mother could be cared for.”
“Is she dependin’ on you?”
“Yes, partly; her little farm doesn’t pay much now that she has to let it out on shares; and she’s getting too old to do much for herself. I came up here to earn something to help her. It was our plan to spend the winter in the city so that I could finish high school; but my bad luck has upset all that. I shouldn’t care for myself so much, but I’m anxious for mother.”
Uncle Dave listened thoughtfully. “Wall, boy,” he said cheerily, “many’s the time I’ve had to find a new trail by makin’ it. This idee came to me last night, but I didn’t say anything till I’d slept on it. We might make a good haul by hitchin’ up together. I’m gittin{205}’ a little too stiff to chase around after the traps, but I kin1 skin beaver2 and stretch the hides as spry as ever; and I reckon you kin larn the business quick enough if you’ll listen to me. There are some streams up here that are full o’ fur—flat-tails and mink—and otter3, too, though they ain’t so plenty. I b’lieve we kin make some money.”
Fred’s heart lightened as he saw this clearing through his thicket4 of troubles. “I’ll do it in a minute,” he said, “if I can find a way to make mother comfortable.”
“As to that,” said Uncle Dave, “I think I kin let you hev some money out of my rainy day savin’s. You can pay me when we cash our pelts5 in the spring.”
“Tut, tut, boy! jest write your mother and make it right with her. I’ll do the rest.”
So the plan was settled.
“If this storm clears to-day, as it ’pears likely to, I’ll take ye up the mountain to help ye git the lay o’ things. We’ll need some more meat anyway.”
The mountaineer’s weather instinct proved true. A clear sunset followed by a sharp night brought the morning sky out clear and crisp.{206} Before the sun was very high, the two were well up the wooded slopes. Uncle Dave led the way; Fred, leading old Buck7, brought up the rear.
Their trail led through a wildly beautiful country. Autumn had flung a riot of colors over the leaves and grasses. Wild life was astir. The pine hens, startled from their morning meal among the seeds and berries, would whir from the ground and perch8 up in the trees within easy reach of Fred’s shotgun. He bagged half a dozen of the blue fantails, then tied his gun to his horse; for as Uncle Dave suggested, they weren’t “out on a murderin’ expedition, like tom fool dudes.”
A climb of about two hours brought them up to the rim9 of the first range. As they lifted to the top, a panorama10 of craggy grandeur12 burst into full view. A wild mountain valley patched with pine and aspen groves14 lay below them. Its farther side—a mighty saw-tooth range of jagged granite15 peaks, barren, savage16 spires17 and broken domes18 and buttresses19 of ragged20 rock, streaked21 with ancient snow banks—towered high into the blue. Shaggy canyons22, down which foaming24 streams leaped and shouted, had made great chasms25 in the face of the range, scarring and carving26 it into fantastic{207} forms. The valley floor was gentler, a meadowy, flower-tangled stretch of quiet beauty. The streams here, though still playful, had spread in places into delightful27 little lakes, glimpses of which could be caught shining through the trees.
“That’s the doin’s of the flat-tails,” remarked Uncle Dave, as they paused on the summit to breathe a spell.
“Did the beaver make those lakes?” asked Fred.
“Sartinly.”
“How did they do it?”
“Maybe we kin ketch ’em at their work if we’ll go careful; then you kin see fer yerself,” was the quiet reply.
“This is the place I call Grizzly28 Cove29,” he went on; “I killed a big silvertip over by that grove13 o’ pine once. There’s a heap o’ beaver in this stream and further down in the main canyon23. Don’t think it’s ever been trapped much. Old Pierre, the French trapper, might o’ nosed about here, but I reckon he found all he wanted in his hole further down. Over by them dead aspens I killed the elk30 whose big antlers are above my fireplace. Shouldn’t wonder if we’d scare up a bunch o’ ’em to-day, or maybe some black-tail.{208}”
“Do deer get up here too?”
“Not so many. They like the lower hills; but there’s mountain sheep a-plenty among them rocks. Wall, I reckon we’d better be movin’.”
He rose as he spoke31 and began the descent, winding32 by an easy way of his own choosing down into the canyon. They had gone a mile perhaps, when they emerged from a thick pine grove upon a small mountain lake.
It was a picture framed with pine-trimmed crags, a double picture, indeed; for the water, crystal clear, had mirrored sky, crags, trees, and hedgy banks so perfectly33 that one could scarce tell substance from shadow. Fred was ready to shout his joy at sight of it.
“Quiet now,” cautioned his guide, half divining the boy’s impulse; “beaver are ticklish34. We’ll hev to step keerful if we get a glimpse o’ ’em. Here, Tobe, you and Buck stay back while we do some prospectin’.” He took off the bridle35 from the old horse to let him graze freely, and then led the way with Indian tread toward a rocky point that rose among the trees between them and an arm of the lake. Fred tried to imitate the cautious step. They stole up the slope. Gaining the crest36, they peered over and looked upon the beaver-made bay—a rounded stretch of meadowy mountain lake in{209} which the busy creatures had pitched their rustic37 lodges38,—ragged, dome-shaped heaps of sticks, plastered and thatched with mud and grasses.
“The dam is over thar,” whispered Uncle Dave. “There comes one now towing a stick towards it.”
Fred looked at the V-shaped wave toward which his companion pointed39, and saw the little brown animal. Then he saw others, old and young, at work and play. One sat atop his house making his dinner off some succulent root he had pulled; two others were industriously40 cutting down a sapling with their teeth. Some young ones were chasing one another about in the water. The boy, in eagerness to see them better, began to crawl up the cliff. In doing so he dislodged a stone, which tumbled with a rattle41 and splash into the lake. In a flash the beaver had dropped work and play and dived out of harm’s reach. A few seconds and there was no sign of life about the lodges but the plashy ripples42 dying one by one on the shores.
“You hev to be mighty still around them critters,” said Uncle Dave; “but I reckon you’ve seen enough; let’s go back and hev a bite to eat.”
“All right,” said Fred, and they retraced43 their steps to the old horse and dog. Here{210} they untied44 their lunch from the saddle and sat down to eat and talk about the habits of the beaver.
“I b’lieve we’d better try another trail home,” said Uncle Dave; “mebbe we kin strike some big game if we rise a bit over this ridge45 to the south and strike down into the other canyon thar.”
“You’re chief,” said Fred.
They followed up the creek46 for a way, rising gradually up a ridge; then gaining the summit, they began to trail down between two ledges47 into the main canyon.
They were just emerging from this side gorge48 when the old man suddenly stopped, and giving a warning gesture to Fred, reached for his rifle, which hung in its leathern scabbard under the flap of his saddle.
Fred looked up quickly to see another crag-framed picture thrilled with wild life. It was a band of mountain sheep filing calmly and unsuspectingly along the rocky trail just below. A stately ram11, with great, gracefully49 curved horns led the march. Following him came a band of about fifteen ewes, younger bucks50, and lambs. They stepped springily in single file behind their proud captain.
The old mountaineer stood tense till the leader came within about two hundred yards of{211} him. Then, just as the ram neared a big rock by the trail, he aimed, fired, and missed.
Like a steel spring suddenly released, the ram leaped and landed squarely atop the big rock. And there he stood above the trail, his proud head turning nervously51 from side to side while he looked with wild eyes to sight the cause of his alarm. The rest of the band, terror-stricken, bounded forward to gather about the rock whereon their leader stood, and there they waited tremblingly for the signal to strike for a safer place.
The old trapper in a flash had thrown another cartridge52 into his rifle. Again he raised—this time with the poise53 of a statue, and leveled at the kingly target. A sharp “ping” cut the still air. The proud ram, mortally hurt, sank and tumbled from the rock to the trail, while the leaderless band broke, scattered54, and fled.
The mountaineer did not fire again, though he might have dropped several before they bounded out of gunshot. Fred, unable to restrain himself, threw his hat in the air and giving a shout that waked the echoes, bounded past the old man down to the dying ram, reaching it just as the life-light faded from his great pleading eyes. That sight dulled the joy of the kill for Fred, and his heart echoed Uncle Dave’s quiet words.{212}
“It’s hard to do it, boy, hard and cruel. In all these years’ trapping and killing55, I have never found it easy to snuff out the life of God’s creatures. Wall, they’ll soon get another leader, and there won’t be any lambs a-bleatin’ for him. Fine sheep, ain’t he?”
“He’s a wild prince,” said Fred; “look at those horns. My, but I’d like to have that head mounted.”
“I reckon you kin, if you’ll take the trouble o’ carrying it home. I’ll skin it for you, when we get there. Then you can get it stuffed and get eyes fer it. Take a good look, so you’ll know the right color.”
“That’s good of you,” said Fred, as they set to work to get the sheep ready to pack on old Buck’s back. Tied securely there, they took up their way again. As they reached the broader trail in the main canyon, the mountaineer stopped and looked sharply at the tracks.
“Bunch o’ Injuns has gone down the canyon this mornin’. ’Bout time they was gettin’ back. Wall, we’ll just keep clear o’ their trail by taking another. Same bunch, I reckon, that I see the other day.”
“Is their camp near here?” asked Fred.
“Right up in the cove at the head of that gorge.” Uncle Dave pointed to the south.{213} “That’s the only trail into it, and it ain’t fit fer a mountain sheep. I can’t figure out how they got their squaws and papooses into it. Mighty curious to me why they’ve holed up so smart.”
“They’re a bunch of thieves, that’s why,” said Fred, positively56.
“Wall, whatever they be, we’d best not cross their trail; let’s slip down on the other side of the creek. Foller me close and keep your eyes peeled.”
They had just forded the stream and were following a deer trail cautiously through the brush, when the old mountaineer suddenly stopped, eyes and ears alert. He listened a moment, then motioning Fred to follow, stepped quietly into the thicker willows57; and there they waited, peering through the brush to the main trail just across the creek, a few rods away.
A moment more and here came the band of Indian marauders, single file up the trail, with Flying Arrow at their head and Ankanamp just behind him. They had almost filed past when Buck snorted. The old horse could never stand the smell of Injuns. One of the hindmost of the band caught the sound, stopped, and looked sharply through the willows to catch{214} sight of the hunters. He passed the word ahead, and the whole band drew rein58 and turned around.
Uncle Dave, seeing that they were discovered, began calmly to take up the trail toward home; but with a whoop59 several of the young bucks plunged60 their ponies61 across the creek and headed the hunters off. Old Tobe, bristling62 like a cornered panther, leaped in front of his master, ready to defend him.
“Quiet, Tobe,” said the mountaineer, as the savages63 plunged through the brush around them. An ugly look of triumph lighted Nixon’s face when he recognized Fred.
“Oh, ho! the cow-kid!” he gloated. “Playin’ the sneak64 on us, huh!”—the tone turned hateful. “I’ll teach you a trick or two. Here,” he ordered, “tie ’em up.”
Half a dozen Indians leaped from their ponies to obey. In their scramble65 one of them brushed too close to old Buck, and the old horse kicked savagely66, sending the Redskin head over heels into a bunch of willows. The band roared with laughter at their companion’s upset; while the old horse snorted and plunged through the band down the canyon, with two bucks on their ponies after him. As they neared the runaway67, Buck kicked again, landing squarely on the{215} head pony68’s shoulder. They tried in vain to head him back, but he dodged69 and finally escaped; and they came whooping70 back to their comrades.
“You cowardly cur!” Fred broke out, as Nixon with the others grabbed him and began to tie his arms with buckskin thongs71, “I’ll—”
“Keep cool, boy, cool,” came the quiet voice of the old mountaineer. Fred held his tongue, but his heart thumped72 with distress73 and anger.
“Now git across that creek,” ordered the White Injun. “Hustle up!” he fetched Fred a stinging blow with his quirt.
The boy, furious with the insult, could hardly hold his temper; but he obeyed, plunging74 through the icy stream behind Uncle Dave, with Bud on his pony, crowding and splashing them.
“You know it, damn you!” retorted Fred, unable to restrain himself.
“Quiet, boy, quiet,” cautioned the old mountaineer.{216}
“I’ll larn ye to be impudent78 with your betters,” snarled79 the bully80, cutting the boy a third time.
They had reached the main trail; the White Injun ordered the captives lashed81 to some pine trees that stood near; then with his band he withdrew to a spot some rods away and held a council. The mountaineer studied their movements carefully, but he could not divine their purpose.
“What will they do with us?” asked Fred anxiously.
“I dunno, boy, but keep cool, whatever comes.”
“Will they murder us?” The boy’s face was tense and pale.
“Wall, we ain’t dead yet; it’ll take all of ’em to agree to that; that dirty white is stirrin’ up some mischief82, but I can’t tell just what.”
They could not hear what was being said.
A whoop came from the savages; they leaped on their ponies and came dashing back.
“Keep yer head, boy,” cautioned Uncle Dave, his voice still steady, but in his heart were serious misgivings83 as to the outcome.
The band circled round their captives, yelling and whooping, and occasionally taking a shot. Two of the bucks flung their knives into the{217} trees just above the prisoners’ heads; then Nixon capped the brutal84 scare by emptying his revolver at the knives. This done, the band gave a furious yell and burst away up the canyon.
Fred, dazed with fright, could hardly rouse himself to the reality that they were gone, when Uncle Dave called gently,
“Hev they hurt ye, boy?”
“I guess not,” the voice trembled, “but they’ve left us here to die.”
“Wall, we ain’t dead yet,” came the reassuring85 tone; “try to git loose.”
They both began to struggle to free themselves from the thongs.
It seemed impossible. They worked and tugged86 till they were exhausted87 and sore. As they hung there resting, to try again, they suddenly heard the hoof88 beats of a horse. A moment more and it appeared with Flying Arrow on its back. The Indian rode swiftly up behind the trees to which the captives were bound, jerked out his hunting knife from its scabbard, and with a few swift strokes, cut the thongs that held them. This done, he sped back up the canyon without a word.
As the Indian band was entering the gorge, the young chief had leaped from his horse, and,{218} pretending to fix his saddle, had let his companions file past him. The moment they were out of sight, he had dashed back to free the prisoners. The band was just riding into camp when he caught up with them.
“What you been doin’?” demanded the White Injun, as Flying Arrow rode up on his panting pony.
“Fixin’ saddle.”
“You lie,” snapped Nixon, half guessing the truth; for his suspicions had been aroused by the young brave’s actions in behalf of the captives during the council.
The Indian’s eyes flashed angrily, but he held his tongue.
“You been up to some Injun deviltry; now you keep your place while I’m chief, or I’ll horsewhip you.”
Flying Arrow took the insult with princely poise. No outward sign revealed how deeply his proud heart was cut and Nixon supposed he had cowered89 under his abuse. The bully had something yet to learn of Indian nature.
Uncle Dave and Fred, meanwhile, finding themselves free, staggered down the trail toward home together, inwardly blessing90 their deliverer and wondering the while what had caused him to befriend them.{219}
If the old mountaineer had got a good look at the young brave he might have guessed, for he had known Flying Arrow well. Some ten years before when he was trapping with the Indians, there was one boy papoose to whom he had taken a great fancy, a lithe91 and manly92 little fellow full of promise. The old trapper had won his confidence by little acts of kindness, and the boy had reciprocated93 the friendship. They had many pleasant hours chatting and fishing and hunting together.
But the boy had changed so greatly since then that Uncle Dave did not recognize him quickly; Flying Arrow, however, could not forget “Long Beard,” as the Indians had named the old mountaineer. It is a beautiful trait with the Redmen always to remember their friends, and this was no ordinary friendship.
When the weary hunters finally did reach their cabin along toward midnight, they found Buck patiently cropping the grass near by. On the saddle still hung the rifle and the mountain sheep. They quickly relieved his tired old back of its burdens and went in to prepare supper.
“Do you think those devils will stir up more trouble for us?” asked Fred.
“There’s no tellin’, boy; but don’t worry; the Lord has brought us over a pretty rough{220} trail to-day. I reckon we kin trust him fer the rest o’ the way.”
“That white devil is at the bottom of their meanness; he ought to be given his just deserts, and I’m going to see that he gets them.” Fred’s tone had a new ring in it. His latent manliness94 had been aroused.
“You’re right, boy,” returned his old friend calmly; “but let’s say our prayers now and go to sleep. Give your nerves a rest before you grip that job.”
“All right,” said Fred, “but I’m going to grip it.{221}”
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1
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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otter
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| n.水獭 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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pelts
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| n. 皮毛，投掷, 疾行 vt. 剥去皮毛，（连续）投掷 vi. 猛击，大步走 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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10
panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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15
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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16
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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17
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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buttresses
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| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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canyons
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| n.峡谷( canyon的名词复数 ) | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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chasms
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| 裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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elk
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| n.麋鹿 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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32
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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39
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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40
industriously
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41
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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42
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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43
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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44
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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45
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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46
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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47
ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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48
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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49
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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50
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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82
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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85
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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86
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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88
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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90
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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92
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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reciprocated
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| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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94
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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