The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies Part 19

Lige told the boys to stake down their live stock and make themselves at home while he went out for an observation. In the meantime the boys also took the opportunity to look about them.

Their new location they found to be a sightly one. The wild and rugged reaches of the Rockies stretched away at their feet as far as the eye could see, the hills and low mountains rising in sheer slopes, broken by cliffs and riven by deeply cut and gloomy gorges.

The Pony Riders gazed upon the scene in awe--at least three of them did.

"Splendid, is it not?" breathed Tad, his eyes growing large with wonder.

"Oh, I don't know. It isn't so much," replied Chunky lightly. "I've seen better. We've got bigger mountains in Ma.s.sachusetts."

"Humph!" grunted Ned Rector, resuming his study of the scene, its beauties intensified by the colors in which the low-lying sun had bathed them.

A shot sounded off somewhere in front of and below them.

"What's that?" exclaimed Chunky, now aroused to sudden interest.

No one was able to answer him.

Soon two more shots followed, and Chunky; was sure that he heard a bullet sing by his head.

Professor Zepplin laughed, saying it was no doubt some one hunting, and that what the boy had imagined was a bullet was merely an echo.

"You no doubt will hear many shots while you are in the mountains. This is a place where people make a business of shooting, and even yourselves will be doing some of it within a few days, if all goes well. Perhaps the shot you heard was from Lige, trying his skill on some bird or animal."

When Lige returned, some little time after, the boys did not observe that he left his rifle in the bushes at the edge of the camp.

"Was that you shooting just now?" asked Tad.

Instead of answering the question, however, the guide called the boys to him.

"I'm going to teach you how to make beds in the mountains," he said. "We have not tried to make any like them yet----"

"Beds? I don't see any beds to make," objected Chunky. "Where are they?"

"Get your hatchets and I'll show you," grinned Lige. "We have to discover a good many things when we are roughing it, you know."

Fetching their hatchets from the saddle bags, the boys cut great armfuls of pine boughs, all hands making two trips to camp and back in order to carry enough for the purpose. But, even then, they were mystified as to exactly what Thomas intended to do or how he would go about it to make a bed out of the stuff they had gathered.

Professor Zepplin watched the preparations with interest, finding much that was new to him in the resourceful operations of the mountain guide.

Having heaped up a great pile of fragrant green stuff, Lige looked about him to fix upon the best locations for the beds he was about to make.

"Oh, I know," exclaimed Ned. "You are going to lay the stuff into piles so we can sleep on them."

"Not quite," grinned Lige. "Watch me."

Carefully selecting the branches that he wanted, he stuck one after another of them into the ground, stem down, until he had outlined a fairly good bed. This done, he continued setting more of the green limbs, pus.h.i.+ng each firmly into the ground until the ma.s.s became so thick and matted that it resembled a green hedge.

"There," he announced. "One bed is ready for you."

"Call that a bed?" sniffed Stacy. "Why, that wouldn't hold a baby. He'd fall through the slats."

"Try it. Lie down on it," smiled Lige.

Chunky did so, gingerly, then little by little a sheepish smile crept over his countenance.

"Why, it does hold me up."

"Of course it does."

"Say, fellows, this is great. It's softer than any feather bed I ever slept in. But it wouldn't be half so funny if a fellow made a mistake and got a branch off a thorn bush; would it, now?"

One after the other, the boys took turns in trying the new bed, and each was enthusiastic over it.

"I'll never sleep on any other kind as long as I live," decided Ned. "I'll have a tent in the back yard and a pine bed under it. What do you say, fellows?"

"I have an idea," smiled the Professor, "that you will get all you want of the experience this summer. Some other trips have been planned for you, and you no doubt will spend many nights in the open air before you return to your homes this fall. I'll say no more on the subject at present."

And Professor Zepplin steadfastly stuck to his word, leaving to their youthful imaginations the solution of the problem that he had presented.

"Get busy for firewood," called Lige.

"Why, it's almost dark," exclaimed Ned. "Where is that pack train?

What are we going to do, Professor?"

"Ask the guide. He knows everything. He's the original wizard,"

laughed the German. "What do you think about it, Lige?"

"I might as well tell you all now--the pack train undoubtedly is lost in the mountains. We probably shall see nothing of Jose nor the pack train until some time to-morrow."

"Yes; but what are we going to do?" demanded Walter. "Here we are, without a thing to eat, or a place to sleep."

"We have the pine beds," answered Tad. "That's a place to sleep, anyway."

"But we can't eat the beds," jeered Chunky.

"If you young gentlemen will build a fire, I'll see what I can do about getting you some supper," advised Lige. "You know, we have to get used to difficulties in the mountains. In a short time you should be well able to take care of yourselves without any of my help."

Lige disappeared in the bushes, returning a few moments later, carrying a brace of some sort of animal by the hind legs.

"What's that?" demanded Stacy Brown, his eyes growing large.

"Jack-rabbits," answered the guide. "There are two of them. I shot them, and now we'll eat them. I was providing a supper for you when you heard those shots."

The boys set up a cheer. Now that the wholesome air of the mountains had in reality taken possession of their beings, they found themselves able to arouse enthusiasm over almost any subject.

Lige skilfully skinned the rabbits and dressed them. By the time he had accomplished this the fire was burning high, and out of it he sc.r.a.ped a bed of red hot coals, about which he built an oven of stones.

"Get two sharp sticks," he directed.