The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies Part 22

The Pony Riders uttered a triumphant shout.

The Professor waved them back as they pressed forward, and planted another bullet in the animal's head to make sure that it was thoroughly finished.

"Hooray for the president of the Pony Riders!" shouted Ned Rector.

"Hip-hip hooray! T-i-g-e-r!" roared the boys, grabbing Chunky and tossing him back and forth, making of him a veritable medicine ball.

"What's the matter with Chunky?" cried Walter.

"Chunky's all right," chorused the band.

"Who's no tenderfoot?"

"Chunky's Brown's no tenderfoot."

Puffing out his cheeks, and squaring his shoulders, Stacy swaggered over to the dead bob-cat, violently pulling its ear.

"He tried to bite me," explained the boy. "See--he tore a lacer in my leggin. I didn't see him till I almost stepped on him. I knew right off that it was the p.u.s.s.y that Lige shot at last night."

"What happened then?" asked Tad, with an admiring grin on his face.

"I fetched him one on the side of the head with a club. He jumped at me and I hit him again. About that time I called, and you fellows came up. But I got him, didn't I, Professor?"

"You did, my lad. But you took a great risk in attempting to do so,"

smiled the Professor, picking the dead animal up and hefting it. "I think he'll weigh about twenty pounds," he decided. "Yes; undoubtedly it's the fellow Thomas shot last night. The brute was so badly wounded that he was unable to drag himself far away."

"What shall we do with him now?" asked the boys.

"Take him to camp and leave him till Lige returns," advised the Professor. "And I think we had better tie up our young friend Stacy, or he will be getting into more mischief than we are able to get him out of."

"Why can't we skin the cat?" inquired Ned.

"I should think you would prefer to wait till the guide sees it. And, besides, he knows better how to do that than any of the rest of us."

"Are--are bob-cats good to eat?" asked Chunky sheepishly.

The boys shouted.

"Not satisfied with trying to kill the poor beast, now you want to eat him," jeered Ned Rector. "Why, Stacy Brown, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. No, I never heard of any one with an appet.i.te so difficult to satisfy that he was willing to eat cats----"

"Yes; but this isn't a real cat," protested Stacy.

"You would have found him real enough if he had fastened one of those ugly claws in your flesh," laughed Tad.

"Eat him, by all means, then," advised Ned. "Eat him raw. I wouldn't even stop to cook the beast if I were in your place."

Walter and Stacy picked up the dead animal, carrying it along through the bushes, all talking loudly, the boys--though they would have been slow to admit the fact--casting envious glances at the fat boy and his trophy. Chunky told himself he would have something to write to the folks back East that would make them open their eyes.

The boys, after having reached the camp, stretched the cat out on a flat rock. And now that the animal lay in the full light of day, the sight of its ugly, beetling brow, thin, cruel lips and powerful teeth made each of the three boys feel rather thankful that he had not had the luck to come face to face with it over in the bushes.

As for Chunky, he sat down beside the cat to enjoy the proud sense of victory, gazing down at the trophy with fascinated eyes. Deep down in his heart, he wondered how he ever had had the courage to attack it. But, of course, Chunky confided nothing of this to his companions.

"Congratulating yourself, eh!" laughed Ned Rector.

Chunky glanced up at him solemnly.

"At this minute I was wis.h.i.+ng I had a piece of apple pie," he answered, hitching his belt a little tighter.

CHAPTER XII

ROUGH RIDERS IN THE SADDLE

The afternoon had grown old when a distant "C-oo-ee-e," told them that Lige Thomas was on his way back to camp.

They answered his call with a wild whoop, and were for rus.h.i.+ng off to meet him. But Professor Zepplin advised them to remain where they were and get the fire going in case Lige had failed to find the pack train. He no doubt would bring food of some kind with him. The fire would be ready and thus no time would be lost in preparing the first meal of the day, which, in this case, would be breakfast, dinner and supper all in one.

The boys awaited the guide's approach with impatience, some pacing back and forth, while others coaxed the fire into a roaring blaze, at the same time confiding to each other how hungry they were.

After what had seemed an interminable time they heard Jose urging along the lazy burros.

It was a gladsome sound to this band of hungry boys, whose ordinarily healthy appet.i.tes, under the bracing mountain air and the long fast, had taken on what the Professor described as a "razor edge."

"Now you may go," he nodded.

With a shout, the boys dashed pell-mell to meet the pack train, and, falling in behind the slow-moving burros, urged them on with derisive shouts and sundry resounding slaps on the animals' flanks.

"Had anything to eat!" asked the guide.

"Not enough to give us indigestion," answered Ned. "Cold water is the most nouris.h.i.+ng thing we've touched since last night."

"But I left you a rabbit. Didn't you find it?"

"We did not. It must have come to life some time during the night and dug its way out," laughed Tad.

"And we've got a surprise for you," announced Stacy, swelling with pride.

"What's it all about?" laughed the guide.

"You'll see when you get to camp," answered Chunky. "I don't need guns to hunt with. A stout club for mine."

After having shown the cat to Lige and getting his promise to teach them how to skin it, the boys set to with a will to a.s.sist in the unpacking. While they were pitching the tents over the pine cots Jose got out his Buzzacot range, which he started up in the open, and in a few moments the savory odors of the cooking reached the nostrils of the Pony Riders, drawing from them a shout of approval.

By the time the meal was ready the tents had been pitched and the boys had returned from the spring, rubbing their faces with their coa.r.s.e towels, their cheeks glowing and their eyes sparkling in antic.i.p.ation of the feast.

Chunky reached the table first, greedily surveying what had been placed on it.