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CHAPTER XX A MONARCH TO THE DEATH

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for several moments none of the astounded hunters spoke. frank was trembling with excitement. phil seemed to have lost his reason. the latter boy turned as if to walk away. lord pelton was the first to recover his senses.

“it’s the old ram,” he muttered.

“yes, yes, the old ram,” repeated phil in a dazed way.

frank laughed hysterically.

“what’s the matter?” continued the englishman. “aren’t you goin’ to bag him?”

“yes,” mumbled phil, “ain’t we goin’ to bag him?”

then, to the surprise of his companions, phil dropped down on a rock and buried his face in his hands. that broke frank’s spell.

“what’s the matter here? wake up!” he cried grasping phil by the shoulder. “it’s ‘old baldy’ alive. maybe not kickin’, but alive.”

[264]

“‘old baldy!’” shouted phil springing to his feet. “what was i doin’?”

“you were having the rattles,” laughed frank nervously. “and so was i. i certainly never expected to really see him.”

so far as could be seen not an animal had moved. the flock, as if panic-stricken, stood huddled at the bottom of the big ram’s shelf. the strangely marked leader still lay with his head erect and alert. phil, not yet wholly himself, drew a long breath.

“he’s alive, i reckon, but he looks like a ghost,” said phil. “and by cracky, he is a ghost to me.”

“he ain’t a ghost,” exclaimed frank, moistening his lips, “and i wouldn’t make him one for all the ram’s horns in the rockies.”

“that would be potting, i fancy,” commented lord pelton. “i rather believe your ‘old baldy’ is on his last legs.”

“it’s just like a king’s throne,” suggested phil, “that cave o’ his with the flock crowdin’ round about it.”

“i couldn’t shoot him,” exclaimed frank. “i’d feel like an assassin.”

[265]

“old baldy”

[266-

267]

“do you happen to notice,” broke in the englishman, “that all the sheep are ewes and lambs?”

“that settles it,” exclaimed frank. “i vote to spare the ‘monarch of the mountains.’ ‘old baldy’ must be husha the black ram. and to me, he’s kind o’ like a religion.”

“he’s a part of history at least,” added lord pelton.

“it seems tough to lose him,” said phil, “but i think you’re both right. let’s take a snap shot of him and call it off.”

this suggestion meeting approval, phil got the camera. he made a picture of the enclosure and its contents which, when printed in a prominent sporting magazine, created a sensation. it was then decided to get a picture of “old baldy,” or “husha.”

“let ’em go,” exclaimed frank when the ewes and kids suddenly fled to the left around the shelf as the picture makers advanced on the right side. “we don’t want ’em.”

as panic seized the flock and it retreated, the big ram on the shelf drew himself on his haunches.

[268]

“why don’t he follow them?” asked lord pelton.

“he can’t,” answered frank. “he’s too old.”

but, as phil trained his camera on the quarter century chief of the sheep, “old baldy” faced the intruders with lowered head and eyes that shot forth the fire of youth and rage. twice he struggled to get on his feet and each time he failed.

“you’re right,” said the englishman, “it’s the old ram’s last stand. but don’t get too close; he may have one more charge in him.”

phil was too absorbed to give heed to this advice. a snap shot of such a beast would be an achievement indeed. therefore, he crept closer to the shelf and the unmoving ram. frank and lord pelton saw the fire in “old baldy’s” eyes; then at last they saw him with a supreme effort gather his legs beneath him.

“look out!” shouted frank.

“he’s coming,” cried the englishman.

before phil, his eyes on the camera “finder,” could retreat there was a snort and the ram[269] threw himself from the shelf. he fell short on his charge but, with another cry, sprang to his feet again. this time “old baldy” expanded himself once more into the majestic creature he had once been and again charged the boy. but once more he fell short, as phil sprang backwards.

balked of his prey the ram fell on his knees and then on his belly. his head was yet erect; on each side of the cross marking his face his big dull eyes glared wickedly. then the flash in them suddenly faded to a dull gray like his thin, straggly coat, and the defiant head sank slowly down.

“it’s his last fight,” exclaimed frank.

once more phil advanced and “snapped” the prostrate “monarch of the mountains.” then the three approached to within a few feet of the feeble animal. the old leader of the mountain sheep suddenly threw his head up; the gray of his eyes turned to fire and, quivering in every muscle, he rose in the air like a ball. in the same motion the ram threw himself forward again, but the effort was his last. half-way in the spring the beast dropped to[270] the rocks in collapse and, his eyes closed, sank again and rolled on his side.

“pelton,” said frank, omitting in his excitement the young englishman’s title, “we’ve always planned, if we found ‘old baldy’ alive, that he was to be yours. his day is over. end his suffering.”

“i don’t like to do it,” said lord pelton. “it don’t seem sportsmanlike.”

“you can see he’s dying,” argued phil. “isn’t it better that his head and horns be carried away as a trophy than that the old sheep be left here to be torn to pieces by eagles?”

slowly lord pelton raised his rifle and, with a bullet in the center of “old baldy’s” cross, husha the black earn gave one convulsion and the king was dead.

before taking time to measure the dead ram, frank and phil hurriedly turned for a further examination of old husha’s home, for such apparently the natural rock refuge had been for years. the shelf around the pool was worn smooth by the bodies of its inhabitants. rock edges were covered with sheep hair and the scattered bones strewn about indicated that[271] many animals had died in the enclosure. more especially interested in the old leader’s throne-like shelf the three hunters hurried in that direction.

“another skeleton,” said frank as he reached husha’s bench and half cave.

“but not of a sheep!” exclaimed lord pelton breathlessly.

and then, their eyes wide, all saw, plainly enough in the full sunlight, a brown and weather beaten human skull. it lay in the rear of the big ram’s refuge and with it the half buried ribs, legs and arm bones of a human skeleton. speechless, all leaned forward. the rank odor of the half cave was almost overpowering and the ledge was covered inches deep with animal refuse. but, in spite of these, frank and phil jumped on the bench.

the same thought was in the mind of each. nervously they began an examination of the bones. not a vestige of clothing was to be found but, behind the disjointed skeleton lay a long, decayed stick.

“an indian bow,” whispered frank.

from between the bones of the body phil[272] drew forth a bit of metal—the silver bowl of a small pipe.

“and an indian pipe!” he exclaimed.

kneeling in the dust the boys eyed each other for a second and then frank turned to their companion.

“lord pelton,” he said with suppressed excitement, “you don’t need to have any doubt that our big sheep is husha the black ram. this skeleton is that of the only man who could have followed him here.” then he held up the dry skull. “this is all that is left of koos-ha-nax, the mighty hunter.”

the discoveries made by the boys had driven all other ideas out of their heads. for many minutes they searched husha’s ledge and for as many more they stood over the dead sheep. then lord pelton reminded them that “old baldy” was not the only ram on the summit and a start was made to capture other trophies if possible. contrary to their expectations many of the sheep had not fled through the cut. from ten o’clock until twelve, lord pelton and the boys scoured the rocky heights bagging, in all, four magnificent heads.

[273]

they now had luncheon and then phil began a three-hour task of preparing the slain animals for curing and mounting. “old baldy” himself stood forty-eight inches high; was seventy-six inches long and, it was estimated, weighed four hundred and seventy-five pounds. his heavy, semicircular horns measured forty-nine inches from tip to tip. his pelt was in such bad condition that no attempt was made to save it. the next largest specimen was a beautiful ram, his horns indicating a growth of thirteen years. this sheep was shot by phil and it was almost black in color. it was forty-one inches across the shoulders; sixty-nine inches long and weighed about three hundred and fifteen pounds. the others were all smaller. one of the latter, lord pelton’s prize, had by far the best formed and most perfect horns.

by four o’clock frank had made temporary repairs on the landing wheel and with the englishman had cleared a stretch of summit of all fragments. frank also made another round of the summit snapping pictures and then the souvenirs of the expedition were put aboard the loon; the skeleton of koos-ha-nax, as the boys[274] firmly believed; the six heads and horns; the five pelts and the fragments of the indian’s bow and pipe bowl.

the ascent that followed was the quickest and most successful that the loon made on its western trip. the rock floor was smooth and amply long for the preliminary run. at six o’clock the monoplane was again at smith’s ranch.

“and so far as i am concerned,” exclaimed frank, “i don’t care whether we turn another trick. all i want is to see skinner and hosmer and show ’em these heads.”

“and koos-ha-nax’s skull, pipe and bow,” added lord pelton.

“o, no!” said phil, “these are for captain ludington. they’ll prove to him that the kootenais knew what they were talking about.”

by the light of the lanterns that night phil sweat over the specimens, in anticipation of which work the camp was liberally supplied with arsenical soap, burnt alum and saltpeter. as the preparation of the heads and skins was not completed that night it was agreed the next day that phil should remain in camp while frank and lord pelton made an attempt to join mr. mackworth’s party.

[275]

they made a beautiful flight along the course of tortuous goat creek and reached goat pass in less than an hour. so far there was no sign of the mountain party but—as the members of it were to turn south into the herchmer range, at the headwaters of the creek—frank laid a course along the ridge of these unmistakable heights. the entire country was either abrupt mountain slopes or heavy, abutting pine forests.

following a saw-tooth course to keep an eye on both sides of the range, the loon had advanced along the herchmers only a few miles when mr. mackworth’s camp was suddenly made out far down the western mountain side in the timber. several hundred feet above it mr. mackworth, captain ludington, jake green and the two guides were seen standing on the barren slope violently waving their arms.

“there’s no white flag,” said frank. “that means no landing. we’re to go back. but i wish we could talk to ’em. say,” he exclaimed. “write ’em a note. tell ’em where we’ve been and what we did.”

[276]

lord pelton grasped the opportunity and, while frank began circling about the upgazing persons, the englishman filled a page of his memorandum book with an account of the trip to “baldy’s bench.” finding no small weight in the cabin lord pelton tied the note and a silver dollar in his handkerchief and, the next time the loon passed over the group, dropped the message.

anxious to see the effect of the note, frank continued the eaglelike swoops of the monoplane while his english companion lay on the floor with his head in the open port. before the message had been read the latter reported that skinner was on a run to the camp below. then frank could see the old hunter returning with a package. mr. mackworth read lord pelton’s few words and immediately threw his hat in the air. “grizzly” hosmer expressed his feelings by rapidly discharging his rifle. then mr. mackworth was seen to grasp skinner’s package and, in a few seconds, its contents had turned into a long, jointed trout rod. he waved it in the air.

“he means for us to return to the ranch and go fishing,” called out the englishman.

[277]

“i think not,” answered frank. “he has an idea. look!”

captain ludington with a bit of paper on his knee was writing something.

“it’s an answer,” exclaimed frank. “they’re going to put it on the pole. they want us to catch it. can you do it?”

as the operator swung around again in a wide spiral this was seen to be true, for the men below all seemed working to attach the paper to the top of the pole. two sweeping circles and the loon was near the rocks. their friends were shouting but, owing to the noise of the propellers, not a word could be distinguished.

“head for it—i’ll get it,” announced the englishman as he thrust his head and arm through the opening and, the monoplane sweeping swiftly forward, frank felt a light shock.

“get it?” yelled the aviator.

“rod and all,” was the excited answer and lord pelton drew into the cabin mr. mackworth’s choicest fly rod.

the message read: “congratulations. no landing in the mountains. return to ranch; break camp and take wagons and outfit to[278] michel. join you in a week or less. three good heads. one grizzly skin; ten feet.”

before noon, the monoplane was again in camp. plans for carrying out mr. mackworth’s instructions were soon made. early the next morning hosmer’s horses were to be caught, hitched to the two wagons and camp broken. the boys had no fear that they could not find the trail to town, since it followed the elk river, but they preferred not to separate. therefore, the loon was dismounted and packed in one wagon. this consumed nearly all afternoon.

at sundown the next evening the two wagons, one driven by frank with the englishman by his side and the other trailing behind with phil in charge, creaked down the main street of michel. so far as frank and phil were concerned the “battle with the bighorn” was at an end.

five days later the mountain party reached civilization laden with the trophies of a successful hunt. mr. mackworth and captain ludington reached michel at two o’clock in the afternoon. when the heads, horns, pelts and[279] skins brought in by both parties had been laid in the shade of the car, it was a satisfied group of hunters that sat in the teton’s easy-chairs to gloat over their treasures.

nor were they alone in their admiration. hosmer, skinner and experienced big game hunters of michel pronounced the collection the best that had ever come out of the mountains. “grizzly” skinner and phil worked until dark packing the hides and heads for shipment to spokane, where experienced taxidermists were to cure and mount them. this over, nelse and robert served a celebration dinner. if there had been enthusiasm before, this meal was a riot of jollification.

“and remember,” exclaimed mr. mackworth as the feast progressed, “captain ludington and i have marvelous heads of both goats and sheep, and lord pelton has a prize that will never be duplicated in the head and horns of husha the black ram. but we could not have had these if it had not been for our young friends. therefore,” he continued enthusiastically, “i propose a toast: here’s to frank graham and phil ewing—may they be as successful[280] in life as they have been in ‘battling the bighorn!’”

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