The Outdoor Chums After Big Game Part 13

"Did you hear me shoot?" asked Bluff carelessly.

"Why, yes, twice; and some time apart. What was it--a crow or a jack-rabbit?"

Bluff only smiled as Mr. Mabie came out of the tent and glanced at him.

"What would you say that was, sir?" he asked, thrusting something in front of the old stockman.

Starting back, Mr. Mabie looked hastily at the hairy object.

"An elk's tail, as sure as you live!" he remarked, his face relaxing in a smile.

"What's that?" roared Jerry, springing to his feet.

"Oh, you needn't get excited about it. Do you see the dull spots on my knife? Well, I bled my game, all right, just as I wanted to do with that bully good blade that was left behind; and if Reddy will only go back with me, we can bring the old fellow in on a horse," said Bluff coolly.

"Count me in on that!" exclaimed Will, rus.h.i.+ng out of his impromptu dark-room, and waving the bottle in which he was making a solution of hypo.

"I think I'll go along, too," remarked Frank, appearing from some other place.

When the party started forth presently, there were six of them with the horse--the chums, Reddy, and Mr. Mabie himself.

"I am beginning to believe you boys will corral everything in sight if you keep on the way you've started. A grizzly, a sheep, and now an elk; and only thirty hours with me! H'm! Perhaps I may not be able to show you as much about big-game hunting as I expected," said the stockman, who seemed vastly amused at the energy shown by his young guests at the ranch.

"Oh, we can pull a trigger, all right, sir, but there are a thousand things we want to know about these natives that books never teach. I'm like a sponge, and can keep on soaking up information all the time,"

laughed Frank.

Incautiously, Bluff let fall certain words that gave Jerry a clue as to the true situation.

"A tree! Shot him downward from a tree, eh? Now, since you've so frankly confessed that much, why not tell the whole blooming story, Bluff?" he cried.

"There isn't much to it. I saw the elk. Then I shot him, and he fell over. After that the elk saw me. He chased me about a tree. I remembered how fast Jerry said he ran around when those wild dogs were after him, and I wanted to go him just one better. Then I found a chance to climb when the wounded elk stumbled. After that I made a rope out of my handkerchief and fished with a loop until I caught the barrel of my gun.

That's all."

"A whole history in a nutsh.e.l.l. But we must be getting near the place, according to what you said at the start. There are the three oaks growing in a clump. Now where's your dead elk?"

As Frank spoke he turned to Bluff. That individual was staring around in evident bewilderment.

"It was sure here I met him. There's the little glade, and this big tree is the one I climbed up into. I saw him lying there. I _know_ he was dead when I bled him. But I must be blind, for the elk certainly is not here now. Oh! Did he come to life again, and run away?" said poor Bluff, in despair, looking at the tail, which he had thrust into his belt.

CHAPTER XII

HARD LUCK

"Talk to me about your dreamers!" muttered Jerry, shrugging his shoulders.

"But I tell you it was so!" a.s.serted Bluff, firing up.

"The boy is right," said Mr. Mabie, as he stepped forward and fastened his eyes upon the ground.

Frank saw immediately what the stockman had in mind. These things mentioned by Bluff could never have happened without leaving some tangible traces behind. Where a big elk had been slain there must be signs of the blood that had flowed.

"Look here, and see for yourself, Jerry." And Mr. Mabie pointed to the ground at his feet.

"There's some marks of hoofs around, I admit, and they seem to circle about the tree, just as Bluff says; and--yes, that's blood on the ground, as sure as you live! I guess I'm on the wrong track. He did have a merry circus. He did shoot an elk, but where has the blooming thing gone?" exclaimed the scoffer.

"That's just what I'm going to find out through Reddy, here. He has some local reputation as a tracker. Put your nose down to it, and let us know what happened, Reddy."

In accordance with the request of the ranchman, the cowboy threw himself upon his hands and knees.

"Indians!" he announced, before they had taken half a dozen breaths.

"What?" cried Bluff, staring hard.

"Cree Indians been here. I can see the print of their moccasins plain as day; and here's where they dragged the elk along, heading toward the river!"

Reddy seemed to have not the slightest trouble in reading the signs, and yet to the boys there was not the faintest vestige of marks. Presently, however, Frank was able to make out the print of a foot in the soil, and he noted that the one who made it wore no heels. His footwear must be moccasins.

"H'm!" remarked Mr. Mabie. "Just what I suspected. The thieving Crees have robbed our young friend of his prize. Too bad! But there are more elk around, Bluff, and I hope you'll have other chances."

"But that one chased me so hard I wanted revenge. I calculated on eating a bit of his flank for my dinner. What's the matter with our following up the scamps, and making them give up some of my game, anyhow?"

demanded the disappointed hunter.

"Impossible just now. The river is close by, and they undoubtedly had boats in which they fled, carrying off your elk. By this time they've shot the rapids, and must be miles below. Possibly we may run across the rascals later, when we also go down the river," replied Mr. Mabie.

Reddy had gone off, his head bent low, and they understood that he was following the trail, much as a hound would have done, with this one difference, that whereas a dog pursues by scent alone, the cowboy had to depend on his eyes.

"But if game is so plentiful, why should these Crees want to steal my elk?" pursued Bluff, who could not be easily satisfied.

"That bothers me to answer. Perhaps they happened to be out of ammunition. There are several other explanations, but in my opinion the most probable is the natural meanness of certain dusky bucks; just as your able tramp refuses to do a lick of work, while he'll walk twenty miles for nothing," smiled the other.

"There comes Reddy back. Perhaps he knows more about it now," said Frank, who was decidedly interested in the enigma.

They waited until the cowboy joined the circle about the tree.

"Boats, Reddy?" asked Mr. Mabie.

"Three. Must have carried around the falls without our knowing it. Hung about here, waiting to steal something from our camp. Had a snare set for jack-rabbits. Saw some torn skins in the camp," was what the cowboy replied, in his jerky way.

"Oh! Then I guess they must have been here before we came, and all you say makes me believe I was right. They have no arms, or else their powder and shot have run out; and for some reason they are afraid to meet whites. Well, the elk's gone, and we can't mend that. Let's return to camp. You have the tail to show for your little adventure, my lad."

"Yes, sir; and the memory of it all, which will haunt me for a good long time," said Bluff, with a shake of his head, as he contemplated the historic tree around which he had done a little Marathon.

"But I mean to get a picture of this tree, anyhow, just to remind Bluff how valuable a good pair of sprinting legs may be sometimes," laughed Will.