The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
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is going along,” said Jesse. “He went over with the first engineer party, so he knows about all the bad places. We certainly had muskeg enough yesterday and the day before. If it’s any worse ahead than it is behind it’s going to be pretty tough.”
“Look yonder, fellows!” said Rob, suddenly rising and pointing to the westward.
They followed his gesture and for a moment stood silent with him.
“It’s the Rockies!” said they, almost in unison.
The clouds had now broken away late in the afternoon, and for the first time they could see across the wide expanse of forest lands which stretched unbroken to the northward and westward, the low white line of the great backbone of the continent — the Rockies, land of mystery and adventure for bold souls since history began in this part of our continent. The boys stood silent for quite a while, absorbed in the vision of the distant hills and the thoughts which the sight awakened in their hearts.
“I’d like to take the trail again to-night,” said Rob, as though to himself. “I can hardly wait.”
“They’re fine little old hills, aren’t they?” said John. “I wish we could go farther toward them, every day. I want to get over to where the water starts west.”
“Yes,” added Jesse, “and see where old Yellowhead himself made his camp a hundred years ago.”
“Well, Jess,” said John, “you can go as Yellowhead, Junior, maybe, because your hair is sort of red, anyway. But I wonder where Uncle Dick and Moise have got to; they ought to be in by now, with the extra horses from the village.”
“Trust Moise to be in on time for supper,” said Rob. “Come on and let’s get the rest of the wood for to-night.”
They turned now toward the tasks of the camp, work with which they were familiar, Jesse carrying some more wood, and John, whose turn it was to bring in the water, starting once more down the steep slope to the little creek which lay below them. Rob, who had completed his portion of the camp labor, still stood silent, apparently forgetful of all about him, staring steadily at the low broken line of white which marked the summit of the Rockies and the head of the great Athabasca River which lay on beyond to the westward.
II
AT THE FIRESIDE
“Well, well, young men!” broke out a hearty voice, not long after our young friends had completed their evening’s work and were seated near the fire. “How are you getting on? Are the mosquitoes pretty bad?”
“Hello, Uncle Dick!” answered John. “We thought it was about time for you to be coming up.”
“And about mosquitoes,” answered Jesse, brushing at his face, “I should say they were pretty bad for early spring.”
“Well, I’m glad to be in for the day,” remarked the tall, lean-looking man they all called Uncle Dick — the friend to whom they owed so many pleasant and adventurous journeys in out-of-the-way parts of the country. He was dressed as the men of the engineers usually were in the rough preliminary survey work. He wore a wide white hat, flannel shirt, loose woolen clothing, and high laced boots. His face was burned brown with the suns of many lands, but his blue eyes twinkled with a kindly light, which explained why all of these boys were so fond of him.
“Where’s Moise?” asked Rob, after a time, assisting Uncle Dick at unsaddling his riding-pony.
“Just back on the trail a way,” replied the older member of the party. “Stuck in the mud. Considerable muskeg in here, believe me.”
Presently they could hear the voice of Moise, the remaining member of their party, who was to go along as cook and assistant with the pack-train. He was singing in a high voice some odd Indian tune, whose words may have been French; for Moise Richard, as all our readers will remember who followed the fortunes of our young adventurers in their trip along the Peace River, was a French half-breed, and a man good either with boats or horses.
“Hello, Moise!” cried the three companions, as he came into view, driving ahead of him the remainder of the pack-train. They pronounced his name as he did, “Mo-èes”.
“Hello, young mans,” exclaimed Moise, smiling as usual as he slipped out of his saddle. “How was you all, hein? I’ll bet you was glad to see old Moise. You got hongree, what?”
“Certainly we are,” replied John for all three. “We always are.”
“That’s the truth,” laughed Uncle Dick. “Lucky we’ve got a couple of pack-horses apiece, and lucky the engineers have got some supplies cached over there in the Rockies.”
“Well, some of those new horse, she was fool horse,” said Moise. “She’ll want to go back on his home, or run off on the bush. She’s like any fool pack-horse, and don’t want to do what he knows is right worth a cent, him.”
“Well, never mind,” said Uncle Dick, carelessly. “I imagine our train will be like all pack-trains, better when they get settled down to work. It’s always a lot of trouble until they get straightened around and shaken down to the work.”
“I’ll goin’ to put some bell on those old gray mare Betsy,” said Moise. “Maybe those fool horse will follow him, Betsy. All the time six height hour, I’ve chase those fool horse where she’ll break out and eat grass. They make more trouble for Moise than all his eleven, ten children up on Peace River.”
“I don’t believe your children are troubling you very much now, Moise,” said Uncle Dick.
“No, my hooman, she’ll know how to herd those childrens,” said Moise, calmly. “S’pose those baby start out for eat grass, she’ll told him, no, not do that, and he’ll learn pretty soon. Now if a little baby can learn, why can’t a three-year-old horse with white eye — I’m going to talk to that fool yellow horse, me, before long.”
“Well,” said Uncle Dick, “we’ll get all the packs off now and finish the camp.”
“Whoa, there!” called out Moise to the offending claybank cayuse which had caused him most of his trouble that afternoon. “Hol’ still now, or Moise, she’ll stick his foot in your eye.”
But Uncle Dick only laughed at the threatening Moise, knowing that in his heart he was kindly. Indeed, he smoothed down the warm back of the cayuse with a gentle hand when he took off the pack. Soon all the packs were in a row on the ground, not far from the fire, each with a cover thrown over the saddle. Our three young companions helped put hobbles on the fore-legs of the horses, and soon all the horse band, twelve in number, were hopping away from the camp in search of grass and water. They found the latter in a little slough a short distance back on the trail, and did not attempt the steep descent to Wolf Creek.
The three young friends assisted in unpacking the animal which carried their tent and blankets. They had lashed on the cow-saddles of their own riding-horses the little war-bags or kit-bags of soft leather in which each boy carried his own toilet articles and little things for personal use. Their rifles and rods they also slung on their riding-saddles. Now, with the skill of long training, they put up their own tent, and spread down their own blanket beds, on the edge of which they placed their guns and rods, making pillows out of their folded sweaters. Soon they were helping Moise with his cooking at the fire and enjoying as usual their evening conversation with that cheerful friend.
It did not take Moise, old-timer as he was, very long to get his bannocks and tea ready, and to fry the whitefish and grouse which the boys now brought to him.
Uncle Dick looked at his watch after a time. “Forty minutes,” said he.
“For what?” demanded Jesse.
“Well, it took us forty minutes to get off the packs and hobble the horses and get supper ready. That’s