The Boy Scouts In The Rockies Part 17

"That makes me remember I'm neglecting my duty; because I ought to be lettin' out a whoop now and then, just to sort of guide Davy and Smithers."

With that Step Hen managed to get to his feet, though he was surprised to find how stiff he had become, just sitting there. Toby grinned to see him wince, as he stretched first one arm, and then a leg. He knew what it meant. The strain of the recent engagement on the ledge, besides all that hanging desperately to the face of the precipice, was telling on the boy's muscles.

When Step Hen let out a loud cry, he was pleased to get a response in the well-known voice of Davy Jones. The call came from a point not far away, and Toby immediately declared that the other scouts must be about half-way down.

"They're agoin' to make it, all right, I do believe!" Step Hen exclaimed.

"Looks that way, for a fact," the guide responded.

The day was almost done, at least down at the foot of that great wall that stretched upward for hundreds of feet. Lying there, resting the back of his head on both hands, and looking upward to where some buzzards were wheeling against the sky, Step Hen could hardly believe that he had actually descended all that distance in safety. He shuddered as he contemplated what an ugly tumble he must have experienced, if those fighting eagles had succeeded in knocking him off the ledge.

And just as the shades of approaching night began to gather around them, with a rather appetizing odor from cooking meat filling the immediate neighborhood, there came a hail from a point close at hand.

"h.e.l.lo! there, glad to see you're able to sit up, and take notice, after all the row you kicked up. First thing Smithy and me want to know is, what under the sun was it all about?" and with these words the two scouts staggered into camp, throwing themselves wearily down beside their chum.

CHAPTER XVII.

TROUBLES THICKEN FOR YOUNG ALECK.

The scouts were pretty hungry, and they united in p.r.o.nouncing the supper "just prime." But then the conditions would not allow of any other verdict; and as Toby regretfully declared, they all had good teeth, while his were getting "frayed and worn."

But after a period of stress and storm, a haven does seem good indeed; and sitting there, chatting, alongside that blaze, which had now been built up into a real camp-fire, the three boys were feeling a thousand per cent better than they had a couple of hours before.

Of course Step Hen had told all about his great combat with the two fighting eagles. He even led the doubting Davy along the foot of the descent, with a blazing torch in his hand, until they had found both of the dead birds, which they lugged back to camp with them, to show to the wondering Smithy as positive evidence of the truth of the story.

And after that the boys would surely feel more respect for Step Hen's prowess as a hunter, and the possessor of unlimited nerve.

Smithy declared that nothing on earth could tempt him to try and descend that precipice where Step Hen had done it; and was amazed when Davy announced that they had accomplished a feat very nearly as hazardous; only, coming a yard at a time, they had not noticed the danger.

"I only hope nothing will run off with my sheep," Smithy had remarked, plaintively, at one time, after they had finished their meal, and were just lounging around, taking things easy.

"How about that, Toby?" asked Davy Jones; "will wolves be apt to rob Smithy of his hard-earned laurels?"

"Don't know anything about that ere," grinned the guide; "but if so be you mean will they come around, and eat his mutton, I'm afraid that's jest what'll happen. But," he added, as Smithy gave a plaintive little bleat, "they cain't eat them big horns, you know; and I reckons as how that's the main thing you wants, ain't it?"

"Oh! yes, if that is so, I shall stop worrying. But I surely do want to carry that souvenir back with me; because, you know that is my first game," Smithy went on to say.

"Wall," remarked the guide, with a nod, "you had ought to be proud of 'em; 'cause they ain't many fellers as kin say the fust wild game they ever knocked down was a big-horn. I've knowed old hunters as couldn't ever git one, try as hard as they might. We had a heap of luck to-day, let me tell you, boys, a heap of it. And for mutton, 'twan't so _very_ tough, either."

"Oh! I thought I heard some one give a funny little cough just then!"

exclaimed Step Hen, suddenly sitting up straight.

"You was correct at that," said the guide, quietly drawing his rifle closer to him, as though caution were second nature. "There is some parties accomin' down the canyon here, and headin' for our fire."

"The boys, mebbe!" exclaimed Davy Jones.

"No, I don't think they be," Toby Smathers added, straining his eyes to catch the first glimpse of the newcomers; for in this wild region, strangers are not to be always recognized as friends until they have proven themselves such.

"There's two of 'em," remarked Step Hen, "and they're men, I c'n see."

"h.e.l.lo! there, don't shoot, we're friends, all right!" called a voice, so peculiar in itself that Toby immediately laughed aloud, as though he had no difficulty in recognizing it.

"Is that Sheriff Bob McNulty?" he asked.

"n.o.body else," came the reply; "and unless I'm mighty far off my base, that must be my old friend, Toby Smathers, the forest ranger."

The two men came on to the fire. The boys saw that the one whom Toby had called Sheriff Bob was a tall, angular man, wearing the regulation wide-brimmed soft hat, and long black coat that sheriffs out in the Wild and Woolly West seem to so frequently think a badge of their calling.

He impressed them as a man of sterling character; but they did not entertain the same sort of an opinion toward his companion, who was a middle-aged man, lanky and sinister in appearance, and with a crafty gleam in his s.h.i.+fting eyes that somehow gave Step Hep and Davy Jones a cold feeling of distrust.

"Why, what's this mean, Toby; you a forest ranger camping with a parcel of kids?" exclaimed the sheriff, throwing a quick, interrogative glance toward his companion, which the other answered with a negative shake of the head, after giving each of the three boys a keen look, while a shade of bitter disappointment crossed his crafty face.

"Oh! it was an off season for me, Sheriff Bob," replied the guide, laughing; "an' I thought I'd try playing guide again, this time to a bunch of Boy Scouts what come out to the Rockies from the Far East, to hunt big game."

The sheriff grinned broadly, as though that struck him a good deal in the nature of a joke.

"Boy Scouts, eh?" he continued, as he calmly sat him down by the fire; "well, I've heard a heap about them, but these are the first I've set eyes on. They brought their nerve along with 'em I reckon, Toby?" and he chuckled again while speaking.

"That's the way I thought about 'em fust pop, Sheriff Bob," remarked Toby, in a quiet, convincing tone; "but I've found out that I sized 'em up a lot too low. They's eight of 'em in the bunch, and the rest is keepin' camp down by that willow that stands by the spring hole in the valley. We came out to-day to try and get a big-horn."

The sheriff sniffed the air at this.

"Say, you don't mean to tell me they shot a sheep?" he demanded.

"Two of the same, and at a pretty fair distance too. We got 'em both.

This here, who is known as Smithy, had never killed anything bigger'n a mouse afore, I understands, an' precious few of 'em; while Step Hen here, he's had considerable experience up in Maine, which is said to be a good hunting ground."

The sheriff pursed up his lips, and arched his eyebrows.

"Well," he remarked, "I'd like to shake hands with you both, boys, because you've done what I never yet accomplished in my life--shot a big-horn."

"But sho! that ain't near all," declared the proud Toby; "they got a couple of big grizzlies in the bargain; and right this very day Step Hen, he clumb half way down that cliff thar, to shove his sheep loose; and had to fight for his life agin a pair o' cantankerous eagles what had a nest up thar. I went to his help, an' thar the birds lie, Sheriff Bob!"

The officer whistled again.

"This _is_ a surprise, I must say," he remarked. "But Toby, if so be you could spare us a mouthful of that same mutton, why, we'd be obliged. We've got to be going in a little while, because, you see, I'm up here to a.s.sist this gentleman, who's name is Mr. Artemus Rawson, and a lawyer from Denver, look up a boy who's his nephew, and who's stolen something his uncle values a heap. We learned he was last seen on the hike for this country roundabout; and I'm bound to find him, by hook or by crook. I always do, you remember, Toby; none of them ever gets away from Sheriff Bob."

Step Hen almost cried out, such was the thrill that shot through him.

Almost instinctively his eyes sough those of Davy Jones, and a look of intelligence pa.s.sed between them.

Rawson, the sheriff said his name was, and he was a lawyer from Denver, looking for a boy who was his nephew, and whose name therefore was likely to be the same!

Surely he must be referring to their new friend, Aleck. But the sheriff had declared the boy to be a thief; and they could never believe Aleck that, with his frank face, his clear eyes, and engaging manners. There must be some sort of a mistake; or else this so-called Artemus Rawson was a fraud of the first water, and just trying to get possession of that secret connected with the hidden mine, the same as Colonel Kracker!