bud announced next morning that if two of the bradfords would like to ride that day and were willing to help phil with the pack train, he and joyce would go down the river by canoe, as he had a mind to examine a likely ledge of rock on the other side of the stream. he had noticed its appearance, he said, from the trail on his journey in, and thought it might contain gold-bearing quartz.
this proposition was very welcome to the trampers, and they immediately drew lots, fortune favoring mr. bradford and roly. uncle will and david accordingly set off on foot directly after breakfast, while bud and joyce departed toward klukwan, and the other three went into the woods to find the horses,—a task which proved both long and tedious. roly, who had taken an easterly direction, came out upon the open gravel, where he found plenty of hoof-prints, but no horses. he looked carefully over the whole broad expanse and listened for the tinkle of the bell, but in vain, so he turned back into the woods toward the trail, encountering swamps and thickets which greatly impeded his progress. mr. bradford[340] had no better luck, returning tired and alone. phil, with a born packer's instinct, finally discovered the animals in a swamp in the densest part of the forest, and soon afterward brought them into camp.
mr. bradford and roly, it must be confessed, were of nearly as little assistance in loading as they had been in rounding up. they knew absolutely nothing of the diamond hitch, which every up-to-date packer uses, and phil would tolerate no other.
"you just bring up the horses and packs sep'rate," said the latter, good-naturedly, "and i'll put 'em together."
so one by one the horses were led up. the blankets and pack saddle were first placed in position, and the canvas band under the breast tightened until the animal fairly grunted. then the packs were set in place on each side of the saddle and secured by many windings of the cinch-rope, all being finally made fast by the famous hitch, tightened by the united efforts of phil and mr. bradford.
"there!" exclaimed phil when the work was done, "now they'll pass muster."
"they may buck, they may roll, they may rub agin a tree,
but their loads will stick like—"
"like your poet-ree," roly suggested, after a pause.
"haw! haw!" laughed the big missourian. "yes, that's it. i was going to say, 'like a bad reputation,'[341] but that wouldn't rhyme. no matter how well i get started, i'm always floored by the second line."
the pack train was now put in motion, phil directing his companions to ride in the rear and keep the animals from lagging. their way lay through a wild, mountainous region. there were ascents and descents so steep that the riders were forced to dismount and lead their horses with the utmost caution, but wherever the nature of the trail permitted, the animals were urged to a gallop.
roly and his father found it no easy matter to do rear-guard duty. there was a speckled horse called "pinto" who made it his especial care to keep them busy. he had started in the van of the train, but, being a confirmed shirk, had gradually fallen back until there remained only a meek little white horse between him and the hindmost riders. having gained this position, he dropped into a walk at every opportunity and was soon far behind the other horses, all efforts on the part of the amateur drivers to reach him with a switch or strap being futile. no sooner did he see them spurring up than he would jump ahead just out of reach, while the punishment intended for him—the clever rogue—fell upon the poor little white horse, whom he would not allow to pass him on the narrow trail. at the first wide clearing, however, pinto got what he deserved, and, being thoroughly[342] convinced that his new masters would have no trifling, he was as well behaved for the rest of the day as could be desired.
now let us follow the fortunes of uncle will and david.
while the horses were being rounded up and loaded, the two pedestrians had obtained a good lead, walking as rapidly as the nature of the ground permitted, and pausing only to drink at a sparkling brook or to admire for a moment some scene of unusual beauty. they had covered several miles, and were ascending a wooded slope on the other side of which lay a deep and narrow ravine, when david broke a shoe-string and stopped to tie the ends, his uncle continuing over the crest and into the hollow beyond.
a moment later, hurrying to catch up, david also mounted the slope, and had almost reached the top when a gleam of light caught his eye, coming from the opposite edge of the ravine and a little to the right. looking there to discover the cause, he halted abruptly. the sun had glinted on the barrel of a rifle in the hands of a man who, at that moment crouched beside a large rock, was facing away from him and motioning to some one in the woods beyond. the stranger wore fringed buckskin breeches and a red flannel shirt, and his broad-brimmed felt hat lay on the ground beside him.
[343]
there was something in the appearance and stealthy movements of this man which at once aroused david's suspicions. instinctively he threw himself flat on the ground behind a young spruce which grew on the top of the bank, at the same time unslinging his rifle and laying it beside him. as he did so, he watched the gaudy stranger intently through the branches of the tree and tried to recall the description of the men who were suspected of robbing dalton's post. with every detail which he could remember, this man tallied exactly.
he glanced also to the bottom of the ravine, where he was amazed to see his uncle bending over what seemed to be a man's lifeless body. startled and wondering, david dared not long avert his eyes from the opposite bank.
the stranger had turned, and now, kneeling behind the rock, raised his rifle to the shoulder, pointing it at the stooping figure of uncle will, who was all unconscious of his peril. he did this, however, with cool deliberation, since he had no idea he was watched.
there could no longer be the slightest doubt that murder had been done here, and that in another instant uncle will would be lying beside the first victim. david no sooner perceived the outlaw's cowardly intent than he aimed at the red shirt, and fired. at almost the same instant the other rifle was discharged, but its aim was spoiled. david had fired just in time.
[344]
jumping to his feet with an involuntary yell, the lad saw the robber's rifle fall to the ground and the man sink backward. his confederate, hitherto unseen, immediately rushed forward, caught him, and dragged him back out of sight before david had collected himself sufficiently to fire again. meantime uncle will, in the bottom of the ravine, startled by the sudden reports on each side of him, drew his revolver instantly, wondering how it happened that he could have been fired upon so closely without being even scratched. with the resolute look of a brave man at bay, he turned first toward one bank, then toward the other, not knowing how many his enemies were nor where they lurked. he caught only a glimpse of the robbers, but he saw david plainly enough as he shouted and leaped to his feet, smoking rifle in hand. the next moment uncle will was at his side.
"shall we follow them?" cried david, excitedly.
"how many were there?"
"only two, and i hit one."
but now they heard galloping hoofs, and conjectured that the uninjured man had lifted his wounded companion upon a horse and was hurrying him away to avoid capture.
"the birds have flown," said uncle will. then with a quick impulse he added, "david, you have saved my life. thanks seem very small at such a time,[345] yet i must thank you with all my heart for a most prompt and courageous act. give me your hand." and the two understood each other better by that silent, hearty hand-clasp than they could have done with any number of words.
they now crossed to the other bank, where david picked up the rifle as a prize of war, and the hat as an additional means of identifying the robber. bloodspots showed that the wounded man had been dragged through the woods a distance of several hundred feet to the trail, where fresh hoof-marks confirmed the flight.
"did you recognize that man in the ravine?" asked uncle will as they returned.
"no," answered david. "do i know him?"
"it's ike martin, dalton's storekeeper."
"ike martin!" exclaimed david, in an awe-struck voice. "is he dead?"
"yes, with a bullet through his brain."
it was true. they examined the body, and found that poor ike must have been instantly killed. his money, watch, and revolver were missing. it was probable that the crime had been but just committed, the murderers not having had time to hide the body. indeed, they both remembered hearing a distant shot.
somewhat shaken in nerve, the two sat down to await the pack train. upon its arrival a half-hour[346] later, mr. bradford, roly, and phil were quickly made acquainted with the events we have narrated, and it was decided to carry the body of the storekeeper to dalton's toll-tent a few miles beyond.
the two toll-gatherers had seen nothing of the robbers, who had doubtless taken refuge in some mountain fastness away from the trail. they were not a little alarmed to learn that they had such dangerous neighbors, and declared that but for david's wounding one of them, the toll-tent would almost certainly have been their next object of attack. as it was, there would be time to send the toll-money to pyramid harbor and take all proper precautions. they promised to see that martin's body received decent burial.
by nightfall the pack train had clattered down from the mountain trail to the upper tide-flats, where camp was pitched within eight miles of the harbor. with his usual predilection for fruit, phil went off and picked a quart of marsh-berries. they were of a yellowish-pink color, and contained a large pit which made the eating of them awkward, but when boiled with sugar they produced a sauce of very agreeable flavor.
bud and joyce had already arrived at the rendezvous. they had but little to say about the ledge, and the bradfords could not make up their minds whether they had been disappointed, or had found good prospects and[347] wished to keep the matter quiet, though the former supposition seemed the more probable. the canoeists had heard the rifle-shots, and the story of the adventure on the trail was related again for their benefit and discussed around the fire until late in the evening, david coming in for enough praise to have turned the head of a less sensible youth. all had a good word for poor ike, too, for there was not one present for whom he had not done a good turn.
