Two Boys in Wyoming Part 10

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"Your outfit is all right," he said, "but it remains to be seed whether you know how to handle 'em."

"We cannot claim to be skilful," was the modest remark of Jack, "but we have had some experience at home, though when we hunted there it was mostly with shotguns."

"The main thing, younker, is not to git rattled. Now, if you happen to see old Ephraim sailing for you, all you have to do is to make your aim sure and let him have it between the eyes, or just back of the foreleg; or, if you don't have the chance to do that, plug him in the chest, where there's a chance of reaching his heart."

By "old Ephraim" the hunter referred to the grizzly bear, as the boys knew.

"I have heard that it generally takes several shots to kill a grizzly."

"That's 'cause the bullets are not put in the right place. You see, old Ephraim don't take any trouble to give you a better show than he has to, and you must look out fur yourself."

"There are other kinds of bears in Wyoming?"

"Rather--several of 'em. For instance, there's the cinnamon, which, in my 'pinion, is about as bad as Ephraim. I've fit both kinds, and the one that left that big scar down the side of my cheek and chawed a piece out of my thigh was a cinnamon, while I never got a scratch that 'mounted to anything from Ephraim."

"What about the black bear?"

"He's less dangerous than any of 'em. A black bear ain't much more than a big dog. Last fall I killed one with my revolver."

"What other kinds of game are we likely to meet?"

"Wal, it would be hard to name 'em all. There's the deer and antelope, of course, which you find in all parts of the West. Then there's the mountain lion, that is fond of living on beef."

"I never saw one of the creatures."

"Have you ever seen the Eastern panther?" asked Garrison.

"No; though they used to be plentiful in the northern part of the State of New York."

"Well, the mountain lion is the same animal. Our climate and conditions have made some changes in his appearance and habits, but there is no doubt the two are identical."

"There's one kind of game that I wish we could meet," resumed Hazletine, "but they've got so scarce that I haven't seen one fur three years.

That's the big-horn sheep."

"He seems to be disappearing from certain sections, like the buffalo from the country," remarked Garrison.

"There's plenty of 'em in the mountains of Arizona and old Mexico, and I've no doubt there's thousands of 'em in the Wind River and other parts of the Rockies, but it's mighty hard to find 'em. Then there's the black wolf."

"Is he fiercer than the gray one?"

"He's ten times worse. Whenever he meets the gray wolf he tears him to smithereens. You never seen a wolf of any kind that wasn't as hungry as you younkers was yesterday."

"He couldn't be any hungrier," said Fred, with a laugh.

"I have knowed one of them critters to foller a steamboat down the upper Missouri fur two days and nights, howling and watching fur a chance to git something to eat."

"The buffaloes have disappeared."

"The right name of the animal is the bison," suggested Garrison; "they have been slaughtered in pure wantonness. It is a crime, the way in which they have been extirpated."

"There are a few of 'em left, deep among the mountains," said Hazletine, "where no one has happened to find 'em, but it won't be long afore they'll all be wiped out. Do you know," he added, indignantly, "that last year our boys found a herd of eighteen buffaloes some miles back in the mountains. Wal, sir, we was that tickled that we made up our minds to watch 'em and see that they wasn't interfered with. We kept track of 'em purty well till their number had growed to twenty-four. Then one afternoon a party of gentlemen hunters, as they called themselves, from the States, stumbled onto 'em. Wal, as true as I'm a settin' here, they s'rounded that herd and never stopped shooting till they killed every one of 'em!"

The cowman was so angry that he smoked savagely at his pipe for a minute in silence. His friends shared his feelings, and Kansas Jim remarked:

"Hank and me hunted two days fur them folks, and if we'd have got the chance to draw bead on 'em not all of 'em would have got home. Why, the rapscallions just shot the whole twenty-four, and left 'em laying on the ground. They didn't even take their hides. If there ever was such a thing as murder that was."

"Yes," a.s.sented Garrison; "and although the Government is doing all it can to protect the few in Yellowstone Park, somebody is continually shooting into the herd. The bison will soon be an extinct animal."

"It's too bad, but I don't see that we can help it," observed Hazletine, rousing himself; "there's plenty of other game left, and it'll last longer than any of us, but it don't make the killing of the buffaloes any better. We're likely to find a good many animals that I haven't told you 'bout and that I don't think of."

"How is it, Hank, that you don't keep any dogs?"

"'Cause they're no use. The hunters from the East seem to think they must have a dozen or more sniffing at their heels, but I don't like 'em.

We had a big hound a couple of years ago that I took with me on a hunt.

The first critter we scared up was a cinnamon bear, and that dog hadn't any more sense than to go straight for him. Wal," grinned Hank, "we haven't had any dog since that time."

CHAPTER VII.

THE FIRST GAME.

It was an ideal day for hunting among the mountains. The sun shone from an unclouded sky, and the air had just enough crispness to make exercise enjoyable. In short, it was a perfect copy of that day which saw the V.

W. W. start from Fort Steele on their long ride northward to Bowman's ranch.

The other cowmen would have been glad to join in the hunt, but they could not be spared from duty. Thus it came about that, as in the first instance, Hank Hazletine was the guide and only companion of Jack Dudley and Fred Greenwood on that which was destined to prove the most memorable hunt of their lives.

The three had ridden briskly through a part of the foot-hills until they reached the more elevated portion, when the hunter led the way up a winding trail until, early in the afternoon, they arrived at what may be called the limit of "horse navigation," which is to say their ponies could give them no more help, since the way was too broken for them to climb further.

Accordingly the three dismounted and removed all the trappings of the animals. Hazletine was so familiar with the country that he came to this favored spot without mistake or hesitation. It was a broad, irregular inclosure, in the form of a gra.s.sy plateau, where gra.s.s grew abundantly, and was walled in on nearly every side by immense rocks and boulders. A tiny stream of icy water wound along one side, disappearing at a corner among the rocks, which were so craggy and eccentric in their formation that a cavity or partial cavern was found, in which the party placed their bridles, saddles and blankets, and which was capable of giving them shelter against the most furiously driving rain-storm.

"Surely we couldn't have found a better spot if we had hunted for a month," said Jack, admiringly surveying their surroundings.

"This is to be our headquarters," explained Hazletine, "during the few days or the week that we spend in hunting here."

"You mean that we are to spend each night in this place?"

The guide nodded his head.

"I don't know of any better arrangement," said Fred; "we can gather enough wood to keep a fire going, and, if rain should set in, shall have as good shelter as if in the house on the ranch."

"That's it; and you mustn't furgit one thing," added Hazletine; "we fetched along just 'nough stuff fur dinner. We haven't anything left fur supper. None of the cattle git this fur into the mountains, so we can't count on them. Therefore, we've the ch'ice atween shooting game or starving to death."

"That's enough to make us all do our best, but we cannot suffer so long as we have you for our companion."

"But you ain't going to have me fur your companion."

Two Boys in Wyoming Part 10

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Two Boys in Wyoming Part 10 summary

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