The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek Part 28

"_Adios_," laughed Nort.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BRONTOTHERIUM

There were busy times in the camp of Professor Wright, who was searching for the fossil bones of a once living Brontotherium. The scientist felt sure he was on the right track, though one of his college a.s.sistants was openly skeptical.

"This isn't the right rock formation at all, to dig for a Brontotherium," he declared.

"So some of my helpers held the time I discovered the other gigantic fossil bones," retorted the professor. "But I proved that I was right.

We shall yet find a Brontotherium--or what is left of one--you'll see!"

Bud and d.i.c.k found time to stroll, occasionally, over to the camp of the scientist, for there was much to interest them there, and they wanted to be on hand when the "great discovery," as Professor Wright referred to it, should be made.

"Do you know," remarked Bud, as he and his chum were riding over to the scene of excavating operations one day, "there's something quite satisfying in going over among so much scientific knowledge."

"Particularly when we don't have to absorb any of it ourselves, under compulsion," remarked d.i.c.k with a chuckle. "It's like visiting a school and watching the other fellows boning away."

"Yes," agreed Bud. "We don't have to open a book nor learn a lot of names as long as your arm. I wonder why they gave such long names to these prehistoric monsters, anyhow?"

"Give it up," spoke d.i.c.k shortly. "There must be a reason."

"I reckon there is, but why in the name of Tunket couldn't they call 'em something shorter? Wouldn't it sound funny if we had to call a horse a Brontosaurus?"

"I'd teach mine to come without calling if it had a name like that!"

chuckled d.i.c.k. "But say, Bud, while we're over there--in the camp I mean," and he pointed to it among the distant hills, "don't mention Nort's name."

"No, dad said not to, but I don't understand it at all."

"Neither do I, but the least said the better. And if anyone over there--especially Del Pinzo--asks for Nort, we're not to even admit he isn't with us. Sort of say he'll be along presently."

"I savey!"

The boys reached the scene of the digging operations which were quite extensive, Professor Wright being liberally supplied with money from some learned society that was interested in securing for the college the largest possible collection of fossil bones of long extinct monsters.

The boys knew some of the workers, and more than a few of the young college men--some of the professors--who had been brought to the place by Mr. Wright. And it was while Bud and d.i.c.k were again talking over how foolish it seemed (to them) to use such long names in speaking of the long-dead monsters that Professor Wright heard them.

He did not happen to be busy at that particular moment, and he was a man who never neglected an opportunity of imparting knowledge. He would do this not always with discrimination, for Bud used to tell with a laugh how once he overheard Professor Wright talking most learnedly to an ignorant Greaser who had merely stopped to inspect a pile of bones.

"He was getting off the longest string of jaw-breaking Greek and Latin terms," said Bud, telling the story, "spouting away how many millions of years ago the Dinosaurs trod the earth, what they lived on, how they fought among themselves, and he was dwelling particularly on how a change of conditions wiped all these birds off the earth."

"Meaning, by birds, the Dinosaurs and the like?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Sure."

"And how did the Greaser respond to it all?" d.i.c.k wanted to know.

"Oh, he took it all in with open mouth," chuckled Bud. "Every now and then he'd out with a '_si senor_,' which encouraged Professor Wright to go on."

"And how did it end?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Oh, the prof. kept spouting away for an hour or more, showing bone after bone of some he'd dug up (this was before the present occasion) and when he was all through he leaned back with a jolly satisfied smile on his phiz.

"But say, d.i.c.k," went on Bud, "I wish yon could have seen the look on the dear old prof.'s face when the Greaser pointed to the bones and grunted out:

"'Him good plenty much make soup!'"

"No! Really?"

"As sure as I can throw a rope! The idea of boiling up the million-year bones to make soup! I sure thought the prof. would die!

After that he didn't spout his wise stuff to any more Greasers."

"I shouldn't think he would."

But on this occasion Professor Wright had a ranch more receptive and intelligent audience. For, as I have said, overhearing d.i.c.k and Bud discussing the "jaw-breaking names," as the boys termed them, the scientist approached them with a rea.s.suring smile on his face and said:

"You are somewhat like the old lady, told of in the book written by Professor Lucas of the American Museum of Natural History. In his introduction he speaks of the necessity for using what are termed 'big'

words--that is scientific terms, and he mentions an old lady who said she wasn't so surprised at the discovery of all these strange animals, as she was at the fact that someone knew their names when they were found."

"But you don't know the names when you find them; do you?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Don't you name them after they are found?"

"In a way we do, yes," answered the scientist. "But in the case of those already found--and I am searching for specimens of some extinct animals already identified--we have settled upon names.

"As Professor Lucas remarks, the real trouble is that there are no common names for these animals. As a matter of fact, when they existed there were no people on earth to name them, or, if there were, the names given by prehistoric man were not preserved, since they wrote no histories.

"And, as a matter of fact, those who complain that these names are hard to p.r.o.nounce do not stop to think that, in many cases, the names of the Dinosaurs are no harder than others. They are simply less familiar and not so often used. You wouldn't call hippopotamus a hard word; would you, boys?" he asked.

"It isn't hard to p.r.o.nounce, but I'd hate to have to spell it,"

chuckled Bud.

"It's easy if you take it slow," declared d.i.c.k, and, then and there he spelled it.

"Well, you've been to more circuses than I have," countered Bud.

"That's it!" cried the professor, seizing on the opportunity to impart a little information. "The word hippopotamus is familiar to you--and even to small children--because it has often been used, and because you have seen circus pictures of it. Well, if we had Brontotheriums on earth now, everyone would be using the name without stopping to think how to p.r.o.nounce it, and they could spell it as easily as you can spell hippopotamus. Most words of Latin or Greek derivation are easy to p.r.o.nounce once you try them.

"There are other names of animals in everyday use that would 'stump' us if we stopped to think of them, but we don't. We rattle off mammoth, rhinoceros, giraffe and boa constrictor easily."

"Yes, they sound easy enough," argued Bud.

"Well, all you need to do is to apply to the extinct monsters the same principle of p.r.o.nunciation that you use in saying hippopotamus, and you have done the trick," went on Professor Wright. "In fact, it is all rather simple."

"Simple," murmured d.i.c.k. "Bront--bront--brontotherium!"