The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies Part 20

On these he spit the rabbits, thrusting them over the coals to cook, while the boys looked on wonderingly.

"You see," said the Professor, "it is possible for a man to find sustenance in almost any place--that is, if he knows how."

"I'd starve to death if I were turned loose up here," said Chunky.

"Of course you would; and I probably should share the same fate. The only mountain subject with which I am familiar is geology," said the Professor.

"And you can't eat rocks," grinned Ned.

"Just so."

"Now, boys, if you will go to my saddle bags you will find salt and pepper and some hard tack. Bring it all over here, fill your folding cups with water, and then I think we'll be ready for supper,"

announced the guide, after the rabbits had been done to a rich brown.

"Pardon me, sir, but I'm curious to know what we're going to do for plates, knives and forks," asked Tad.

"Do?

"Why, my young friend, we shall do without them. If you'll watch me carefully you will learn how."

By Lige's direction, the boys squatted down about a flat rock, after which the guide proceeded to carve the rabbits with his hunting-knife, seasoning the pieces with salt and pepper, yet doing all with tantalizing deliberation.

The boys looked on expectantly.

"Much as I need money, I wouldn't take four dollars and a half for my appet.i.te at this very moment," declared Ned Rector, earnestly.

"It can't beat mine, fellows," laughed Walter. "I tell you, there's nothing like falling off a mountain to give a chap a full-grown hankering for real food."

"I should imagine it would shake one down a bit," agreed Tad. "What do you think about it, Chunky?"

But Chunky's reply was not clear to them, for the greater part of his face was buried in a flank of jack-rabbit, and he was able to talk with his eyes alone, which at that moment were large and expressive.

Never had a meal seemed to taste so good to these boys as did this crude repast, served on a rock several thousand feet in the air and with only such conveniences for eating it as nature had provided. But good humor prevailed and everybody was happy.

Chunky at last paused from his labor long enough to go to the spring for a cup of water.

"While you are up you might fetch some for the rest of us," suggested Ned.

So Chunky gathered up the cups and plodded to the spring, chewing vigorously as he went. However, finding it inconvenient to carry all the cups at one time, he left his own at the spring, returning with those of the others, filled with cool, sparkling water.

The boys were profuse in their thanks, to which Stacy bowed with great ceremony and returned to the spring for more water.

For the moment, in the conversation that followed, they forgot Clunky entirely. But he was recalled sharply to their minds a few minutes later.

"p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y!"

Ned and Tad turned inquiringly at the sound. Lige and the Professor, being engaged in earnest conversation at the time, had not heard Stacy Brown's plaintive call off behind the rocks yonder.

The Pony Riders looked at each other and roared.

"Well, what do you think of that?" laughed Ned. "That kid has gone and picked up a cat. Who would ever think of finding a cat up here?"

"What's that?" demanded Lige sharply, turning to them.

"Why, Chunky's found a----"

"p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y! Nice p.u.s.s.y. Come here, p.u.s.s.y. That's a good kittie. Puss, puss, puss," continued the soothing voice of the boy.

Had Lige Thomas been projected from a huge bow-gun he probably would not have leaped forward with much greater quickness than he did in this instance, bowling over the Professor as he sprang by him, and making for the spring in mighty strides.

"Leave him alone!" he roared.

The guide had heard and understood. He was hurrying to the rescue.

Those by the camp fire heard two sharp, quick explosions from the guide's revolver, followed by a squall of rage and pain and a great floundering about in the bushes. Then the guide appeared around the corner of a large rock, leading Chunky by one ear, the latter taking as long strides as his short legs would permit, to relieve the strain on the aforesaid ear.

"Wha--what----" stammered the Professor.

The boys had sprung to their feet in alarm at the crack of the pistol, and stood, amazement written on their faces, as Lige and Chunky came toward them.

"What's the row?" asked Ned Rector in as firm a voice as he could muster.

"I got a p.u.s.s.y and he tried to shoot it," wailed Chunky.

"p.u.s.s.y! Huh! He got a bob-cat and he was trying to catch the brute,"

growled the guide. "Lucky I got there when I did."

Stacy's eyes opened wide and his face blanched.

"A--a bob-cat?" they gasped.

"Yes; I put a shot into him, but it did not kill kill him! Hear him squall?" the guide made answer.

"Well of all the idiotic things I ever heard of!" exclaimed Ned, gazing at Chunky in bewilderment.

"Yes; it was all of that," grinned Lige.

CHAPTER XI

CHUNKY GETS THE CAT

"Wake up, fellows! The sun is up!" shouted Tad Butler, as Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful, the birds now making the mountains ring with their joyous songs.

The Pony Riders rose up, rubbing their eyes sleepily.