"Go ahead!" cried the boys.
""I trust you are now in the atmosphere to appreciate my story.
""I wrote you this morning about the lovely getting-acquainted trip to Lone Mountain. Well, I had just come back from walking down to the main road and giving my letter to the carrier, who drives in a funny little canvas house on wheels, when d.i.c.k and William rode up to the door and asked if we girls didn"t want to ride up into the mountains back of Bear Canyon and visit the bear-traps. Mr. Hunter and the three boys had gone to Willow Creek, but it"s a fifty mile ride over there and back, and he thought it was too much for Mary and Vivian and me--much as we wanted to go.""
"Fifty miles on horseback!" murmured Mrs. Winthrop. "I should hope so!"
""Virginia had insisted on staying with us, and Aunt Nan (we all call her that now) had gone to Mystic Lake with Donald"s brother, so we four girls were all alone. Virginia said "Yes" on the spot, and Mary and I were wild at the prospect. Vivian"s eyes got big when d.i.c.k said "bear-traps," but she wouldn"t let us know she was afraid. Really, you"d be surprised at what a good sport Vivian"s getting to be.
""We said we"d be ready in a minute and hurried into our riding clothes while d.i.c.k and William went to saddle our horses. All the time we kept fairly _pelting_ Virginia with questions. _Where were the traps? What did they look like? Did she really think we"d get a bear?_ She wouldn"t tell us much of anything, except that bears were not uncommon at all, and that the men liked to get them, because they were a nuisance to the cattle. I think we were all seized with different feelings as we got ready. Vivian"s came out and sat upon her face. You just knew she was hoping every bear in the Rockies had been safe at home for a week; Mary kept saying the trip up the trail would be so beautiful, but something told you she was secretly hoping for a greater adventure; and I--well, I couldn"t decide between the triumph of bringing a real bear home, and the awfulness of seeing one caught and killed.
""In half an hour we were off. Hannah had given us each some sandwiches in a bundle, which we rolled in our slickers and tied on our saddles. d.i.c.k carried the big gun in a holster, and William a coil of rope. Instead of turning off on the Lone Mountain trail we went farther up the canyon, past the little school-house where Virginia used to go, and on toward where the canyon walls were great cliffs instead of foot-hills. It certainly was the _beariest-looking_ place I have ever seen. You could just imagine hundreds of them taking sun-baths on the rocks, surrounded by their devoted families.
""By and by we turned into a rocky, precipitous trail, and went higher and higher. It was much steeper than on the getting-acquainted trip. Sometimes it just seemed as though the horses couldn"t make it, but they did. My horse is a perfect wonder! He never hesitates at anything. His name is Cyclone!""
"I trust it has nothing to do with his disposition," interrupted Mrs.
Winthrop.
""At noon we were in a perfect wilderness of huge trees, great jagged rocks, and thickets almost as bad as the one Theseus went through to reach Ariadne. William insisted on building a tiny fire to cook bacon, so we rustled some dry sticks and made a little one on a flat rock. I never in all my life tasted anything so good as that bacon and Hannah"s sandwiches and some ice-cold water from a little creek that was tearing down the mountain-side.
""d.i.c.k said as we rested for a moment that it would take us fifteen minutes to reach the first trap from that spot. It was the most likely place of the three to find a bear, he added, and at that Mary, Vivian, and I tried our best to look as unconcerned as though catching a bear were the most usual thing in all the world. But when we had reached the place, after a hard ride through a narrow trail bordered by all kinds of p.r.i.c.kly things, we found no bear in the queer little log-house that held the trap. Neither was there one in the trap a mile distant.
""When we turned away from the second, bearless and tired, every one of us, except perhaps Vivian, felt a sense of defeat. My fears of seeing one caught had vanished. I had borne sunburn and scratches and lameness and I wanted a bear. So did Mary. She was not content with just scenery. Virginia had caught bears before, but she wanted one because we did, and William wanted one because Virginia did. William never seems to want much for himself some way, but he loves Virginia, and I think Virginia loves him next best to Jim. As for d.i.c.k--there was no mistaking d.i.c.k"s feeling. He felt as though he had not done his duty by us since there had been no bear in the two most likely traps.
""The question before the a.s.sembly now was--Should we or should we not visit the third trap? It might be dark, William said, before we got out of the canyon, and there wasn"t one chance in a hundred of a bear anyway. Virginia--really, she is the biggest peach I ever knew!--proposed that she ride home with Vivian, and the others of us go on with d.i.c.k and William, but Vivian would not listen to her.
There having been no bears in the first two traps was proof enough for Vivian that there would be none in the last, and her bravery returned. Mary wanted to go on, and I wouldn"t have gone home for a thousand dollars or a trip abroad! As for d.i.c.k, he was already half-way up the trail.
""This trail was far steeper than either of the others. It led almost straight up the mountain-side beneath over-hanging trees, under fallen timber, and through every kind of bramble imaginable. But there was something exhilarating about even the brambles--something that made you glad to hear the saddle crunch and whine and creak, and to feel yourself being carried higher and higher. It wasn"t all the hope of a bear either!
""At last we came to a little creek, which was hurling itself down over the rocks.
"""Moose Creek!" d.i.c.k called back. "The trap"s one-half a mile farther on."
""On we went, growing more and more excited every moment. Something strange seemed to be in the air. I don"t know what it was, but the horses must have felt it, too, for just as we had cleared an especially thick thicket, my Cyclone began to p.r.i.c.k up his ears and to sniff the air, and d.i.c.k"s horse reared. Then, in a moment, the others began to be restive. Even old Siwash, who is lame and halt and maimed and blind like the parable people at the feast, actually jumped, much to Vivian"s horror.
""I just wish you could have felt the shivers and thrills and quivers that ran down our backs when d.i.c.k halted the procession and cried,
"""There"s a bear around all right! The horses smell him! We"ll turn back and tie, and then go on foot!"
""Five minutes more and we were stumbling up the trail--d.i.c.k and William ahead, Virginia and I next, and Mary and Vivian in the rear.
I don"t know where my heart was, but I know it was unfastened, for I distinctly felt it in a dozen different places! Vivian had actually forgotten to be frightened, and Mary kept saying over and over again, "Just think of it! Just think of it! A bear! Just think of it!" As for Virginia, she strode along with her head high, just as she always does, and looked as though she were able to cope with any grizzly on earth.
""We gained the clearing almost as soon as d.i.c.k and William, and--now, listen, all of you!--there was our bear!!! I"ll never forget that moment! I don"t believe I"ll ever in my life experience so many different feelings--triumph and pity and fear and admiration, all struggling together. The poor thing lay in the hot sun by the creek, rods from the little log house which had concealed the trap, and one of his forelegs was securely held in that cruel, iron grip. A long, strong chain attached to some logs held the trap secure, though bark was torn in layers and strips from the trees near by, whose trunks the poor, mad, suffering animal had climbed--trap, chain, and all. But now--nearly worn out--he lay in the creek, sick at heart and ready to die.
""As d.i.c.k drew the big gun from the holster, and went nearer, the bear rose to his feet and growled--a fierce, awful growl that sent Vivian trembling to the thicket. All I could think of just then was Roland keeping at bay the Saracens at Roncesvalles, or Leonidas withstanding the Persians at Thermopylae. There was something grand in the way that big bear faced d.i.c.k. I shall always admire him for it as long as I live. I rather believe he was glad to die as Leonidas and Roland were--secure in the thought that his spirit could never be overcome.
""William turned his back as d.i.c.k raised the big gun, and made ready to shoot. Then he said something about seeing to the horses, and hurried down the trail. Mary joined Vivian in the thicket, and so did I. I couldn"t help it. We turned our backs, too, and stopped our ears with our fingers. Virginia was the only one who stayed. She stood by d.i.c.k as he aimed and shot. Afterward she told me she would have felt mean to desert a hero whose spirit was just about to be taken away from him. She wanted to pay her last respects. But I know it wasn"t easy, for when we all came tremblingly back a few minutes after d.i.c.k had shot, her eyes were brimful of tears.
""Then William, too, returned, leading Siwash, and together he and d.i.c.k hoisted the big bear across Siwash"s saddle, binding him securely with the rope. After the horses had become satisfied that there was no occasion for alarm, William led Siwash at the head of a triumphal procession, and the rest of us followed, Vivian on William"s Ginger. Down the trail we went, unconscious of scratches and aches and sunburn, now that our aim had been accomplished, and our goal realized. The awful feeling of pity which we had felt by the creek went away somewhere, and we were but victors holding a triumph.
""Virginia and I wondered as we rode along together why it is that you can feel so full of pity one moment at the thought of killing something, and yet so full of triumph the next after you"ve conquered and killed it. We"ve decided that the triumphant feeling is something bequeathed to us by the cave-men like those in _The Story of Ab_ you know--an instinct that makes you want to prove yourself master; and that the pity is a sign we"re all growing better instead of worse.
Don"t you think that"s a fairly good explanation? Of course it is needless to say that Virginia thought it out!
""Hannah"s calling me to supper, and I must hurry. Mr. Hunter and the boys had just reached home from Willow Creek as we rode down the lane. I wish you could have seen Jack and Carver when they saw the bear. They were wild, and hailed us as though we were Augustus entering Rome! Best of all, Mr. Hunter says he is going to send the skin to you, Dad--it"s all black and curly--for the library floor.
Isn"t it splendid of him?
""I simply must run and wash, and rustle a clean middy somewhere.
""Loads of love,
""PRISCILLA.
""P. S.--Mother, dear, I guess I"ll have to have still another Thought Book. I never in my life had so many thoughts. They come crowding in--one on top of the other--but many of them are the kind you can"t very well express.
""P. A. W.
""P. P. S.--I can shoot a bottle all to pieces at thirty yards. Don"t you call that pretty good?
""P. A. W.""
"Rustle?" soliloquized Mrs. Winthrop, as Priscilla"s father folded the letter. "I"ve never heard that word before in such a connection, and she"s used it twice!"
"Well," announced Alden Winthrop decidedly, "I"ve never had much use for Thought Books, but I believe I could write down a thought or two myself if I"d trapped a Rocky Mountain bear!"
CHAPTER V
JEAN MACDONALD--HOMESTEADER
South of Elk Creek Valley the foot-hills were less ambitious than those east and north. It was easy to climb their sloping, well-trailed sides on horseback or even afoot, and the view across the wide mesa, blue with sagebrush to the distant mountains blue with August haze, was quite reward enough.
Here was real Western country, almost unhampered by civilization, almost unbroken by that certain sign of progress, the barbed-wire fence. This was in miniature what the pioneers must have gazed upon with weary, dream-filled eyes. Virginia and Donald, who often climbed the hills together for a wild gallop through the unfenced sagebrush, liked always to imagine how those st.u.r.dy folk of half a century ago urged their tired oxen up other slopes than these; how they halted on the brow of the foot-hills to rest the patient animals and to fan their hot, dusty faces with their broad-brimmed hats; and how their eager eyes, sweeping over miles of ragged prairie land to the mountains, awful with mystery, saw this great country cleared of sagebrush, intersected with ditches, reclad with homes.
Such had been the history of most of the land above and beyond Elk Creek Valley, and Donald and Virginia were loath to see this one unbroken mesa go. They wanted it as a hunting-ground for prairie chickens and pheasant in the fall, and as a wide, free, unhindered race-course for Pedro and MacDuff. Pedro and MacDuff wanted it, too. They liked to gallop, neck and neck, joyous in the sense of freedom, and in the knowledge that they were giving happiness to their respective riders. For years Donald and Virginia had loved the mesa. They loved it in the spring when the bare patches among the sagebrush grew green and gave birth to hardy spring flowers--b.u.t.tercups and shooting-stars and spring beauties; they loved it in the long blue days of August and in the shorter golden ones of October; and sometimes they thought they loved it best of all in winter when it lay, silent and very, very wise, beneath the snow.
But it was to be just theirs no longer. The slow, steady tide of oncoming progress had refused to let it alone. In the spring while Virginia was still at St. Helen"s, Donald, home for the Easter recess, had written her of two homesteaders" cabins on the mesa toward the southeast, of fences being built, and of sagebrush rooted up and burned.
It was even less theirs on this August morning, for the cabin of another homesteader had risen as though by magic in the southwest corner; ten acres of freshly-plowed land were being warmed by the sun and made ready for September wheat; and rods of stout barbed-wire tacked to strong, well-made fence-poles were guarding the future wheat against all intruders. The cabin, superior in plan and workmanship to that of the average homesteader, faced the west. It was built of new spruce logs, with well-filled c.h.i.n.ks, and boasted two large windows and a porch, in addition to its necessary door. Moreover, an outside stone chimney betokened a fire-place--an untold luxury to a homesteader. A second wire fence, set at some three rods from the cabin, inclosed it on all sides, and protected a small vegetable garden and a few fruit trees, which the owner had already planted.
It was a good quarter section upon which this ambitious homesteader had filed. On the south the mesa mounted into the higher hills, and this claim included timber; the land already plowed showed the soil to be black and fertile; and a creek, tumbling from the mountains and hurrying by just back of the cabin, promised plenty of water, even in a thirsty season.
With a substantial new cabin, three cows and a horse, some hens and two collie dogs, a crop nearly in, fruit trees thriving and a garden growing like wild-fire--what more could one desire? Then add to riches already possessed, the surety of a barn and corral in September, and the probability of twelve pure-bred Shropshire sheep, and what homesteader would not sing for joy?
That was precisely what Jean MacDonald was doing this sunny August morning; for it was a girl--a strong, robust girl of twenty-one--who had taken up the southwestern claim on Virginia"s and Donald"s mesa. She was bustling about her little cabin, setting things to rights, and singing for joy. Her voice, clear, strong, and sweet, rang out in one good old Scotch song after another--"Robin Adair," "Loch Lomond," and "Up with the Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee." Sometimes she paused in her sweeping and dusting and hurried to the porch to look away across the mesa toward the north, and to speak to Robert Bruce, her horse, who, saddled and bridled, awaited her coming outside the gate.
"Not yet, Bobby," she called, "not yet! There"s no sign of them at all, so be patient!"