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Boy Scouts on the Open Plains; The Round-Up Not Ordered

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CHAPTER VII.

EVERYBODY BUSY

“My turn next!” shouted Jack, as a further rushing sound announced the arrival of a second detachment of the escaped wolfish horde.



Ned had his shooting eye at its best when he sent the first leaden pellet toward that leading sprinter. The beast had come with a furious rush, and chanced to pass through a succession of shadowy patches, so that the scout master could not pull the trigger as quickly as he might have wished. The wolf had actually made one wild leap upward after Jimmy’s retreating and plump form before the crash of the gun came.



It happened that Jimmy was looking back over his shoulder at the time, though he knew that must be a foolish thing to do, and cost many a fleeing hunter dear. He would not soon forget the picture that met his eyes, as that gaunt gray pirate of the herd came rising toward him with that splendid bound.



“Why,” Jimmy was heard to say afterwards, when the shock of battle was a thing only of memory, “both his lamps looked like yellow fires, and that red tongue hung from his mouth, while I could see his long white fangs bared to beat the band. Then I heard the bang of Ned’s gun, and that wolf fell back in a heap. When I saw the way he lay crunched up at the foot of my tree, I knew he’d gone and croaked. Gee whiz! but that was a pretty close shave for Jimmy McGraw, let me tell you!”



Jack got his turn and he found it no easy task to knock over a leaping wolf, as glimpsed in the deceptive light. The moon’s rays dazzled his eyes, and when he saw the newcomer flashing through the bars of light and shade Jack pulled the trigger with no assurance that he had held positively on his target.



It was true that the beast took a header, which proved that he must have been hit by the bullet; but, even as Jack’s nervous hands started to pump another cartridge from the magazine into the firing chamber of his rifle, he saw his intended victim scramble to its feet, utter one long howl, and then start to slink away.



“No you don’t there; just hold on a bit!” cried Jack.



In his excitement, he fumbled more than he should with the mechanism of his gun, and thus lost a couple of precious seconds. Indeed, the wounded wolf might have vanished from view amidst the brush, only that Harry took it upon himself to “put his oar in,” with the result that the bombarded beast crumpled up.



By that time even Jimmy was ready for business, having managed to snatch up his Marlin, and then look eagerly around for some target at which to fire.



“Don’t forget the directions!”



That was Ned calling out. He knew the value of economizing ammunition when far from a base of supply; and, consequently, did not want the others to needlessly do anything of this sort. One bit of lead ought to be enough for each beast, if properly delivered.



This warning was really meant more for Jimmy than either of the others; for he had been known to get tremendously excited on other occasions, when peril threatened, and mix things up considerably.



As everybody had had a shot but Jimmy, it was now his turn, according to the order of events which had been arranged. Jack recognized this fact by advising him to “be prepared” as a true scout always should.



“Here they come with a whoop!” Amos was heard to exclaim, as there came a louder rush through the brushwood than at any previous time, proving that quite a bunch of the hungry animals must be at hand.



“Steady, Jimmy, and be quick to pick your game!” called Ned, thinking to thus keep the other from getting “rattled.”



From the furious way in which the balance of the pack was coming on, it seemed evident that they did not realize what sort of a surprise awaited them near the river bank. Hunger and a keen scent was doing the business for them. They appeared to know that there was something worth while in the eating line around that particular part of the country, and evidently meant to make a bold bid for the same, regardless of consequences.



Jimmy was straining his eyes to discover the first sign of the oncoming pack. He had his faithful repeater up against his shoulder and was aiming at the spot he believed would speedily be occupied by a leaping wolf.



Jimmy was no sharpshooter, though he had done some fairly creditable work along the line of knocking over game in times past. As a rule, he preferred shooting at random into a bunch of quail and taking chances of making a fine bag. So now he indulged in the hope that several of the wolves would break cover in a heap, when he could just blaze away and, perhaps, knock over a couple with one shot; which he fancied would put a feather in his hat as a marksman who knew how to conserve his ammunition.



Then the time came to fire. He could see a confused mass tearing along through the spaces where those bars of light and shadow rather dazzled the eye; and, not daring to wait any longer, Jimmy let fly.



“Hurroo! did you see that beggar roll over? And listen to the other howl, like he had the toothache, and no dentist within twenty miles! Tell me about that, will you? Soak it to ’em, fellers, good and plenty!”



Of course, all this was pretty much lost, because, what with the racket created by howling, yelping and yapping wolves, and the banging of the guns in the hands of the scouts, a din had started that made it impossible to hear any single human voice.



Jimmy realized that if he wanted to have a further share in the disposal of the savage pack, he had better be getting busy again. So he up with his rifle, and looked eagerly for some target at which he could fire.



There never could be a more exciting affair than that battle with the escaped wolves that Harkness, the herder, had been feeding and keeping for breeding purposes. They were far from tamed by their recent confinement; indeed, Ned could not remember ever having run across a more savage pack in all his experience.



Afterwards, in commenting on this strange fact, he came to the conclusion that it was caused by a combination of two things: the animals had not been fed recently, and were almost crazy for food; and then, he learned that Harkness had ever been a cruel despot, using a black-snake whip with a long cutting lash to quiet his pack in their enclosure, whenever their howling annoyed him – always keeping well out of the reach of their fangs when plying the whip, it may be understood; for he had a species of “pulpit” built out far above the pen, in which he was free to swing that instrument of keen torture.



It was just slaughter, for the wretched wolves really had no chance at all to retaliate. Ned sickened of the business quickly, but what could they do otherwise? It was a condition that had been forced upon them. They had not invited the attack, and must defend themselves against the pack, no matter at what cost.



Before long there were dead and dying wolves lying all around, as “thick as blackberries in the good old summertime,” as Jimmy put it. Others that had received wounds, and no longer felt the same furious desire to try conclusions with the enemies perched beyond their reach in the trees, began to slink away. Doubtless, they remembered old lairs in the distant hills to which they might fly; and, in some fashion, supply themselves with the necessary food, without taking such desperate chances.



“All gone, it looks like, Ned!” sang out Jack, “and just when I’ve gone and got the magazine of my gun charged again, too.”



“Set ’em up in the other alley!” cried Jimmy. “I accounted for some of the victims, you can roll your hoop on that!”



“My stars! but that

was

 a warm session!” exclaimed Harry; “and I wonder now if you got any sort of picture, Jack, when you used your flashlight on the scrimmage?”



That was just what Jack had done, laid his rifle aside for a minute, and made a good use of his camera, prepared for the occasion. The sudden flare of the cartridge had illuminated the scene as might a flash of lightning; and, possibly, this had been one of the causes that frightened the balance of the pack away, for the attack weakened from that moment.



“Dast we get down now?” asked Jimmy.



While he was speaking, Amos Adams dropped from his perch, as though he could see no further reason for playing the part of a bird and perching there among the branches.



During the racket Ned had several times heard the lighter report of a six-shooter, and understood that the kid cow-puncher was trying to do his share of the work in diminishing the number of Harkness’ pets. Whether success followed his efforts or not, Ned was unable to say, though he imagined the boy knew how to shoot the gun he “toted” in the holster at his belt.



As there was no reappearance of the wolves, the rest of the campers came down. The burros and the calico pony had acted as though frantic during the melee; but, as the boys had made sure to secure them properly, they were all there and by degrees quieting down, when they found that they were not going to be made a meal of by those savage beasts of prey.



The scouts counted just thirteen dead wolves scattered about. Two others were trying to crawl away, dragging their broken limbs after them.



“We must knock those fellows on the head,” said Ned; “because they’ll die anyway, and it’s the duty of a scout to put an end to needless pain.”



Although he had already had more than enough of the slaughter, Ned followed after the two escaping animals. They showed their venomous natures by turning on him and snarling furiously; but Ned stopped far enough away not to endanger himself from those glistening fangs exposed when the red lips were drawn back.



Two quick shots did the business, and then there were fifteen.



“Huh! Harkness’ game is about up this time, and he won’t raise any more young wolves to sell the skins for lap-robes and turn over the scalps to the State for bounty money,” Jack observed, as they all gathered again near the fire, which was started up afresh; for they could not think of such a thing as sleep for some little time, after so much excitement.

 



“If there’s even two dollars apiece, it would net a feller thirty plunks right now, to raise the hair of this bunch,” speculated Jimmy.



“But we don’t want to go into the wolf scalping business, do we, Ned?” expostulated Harry, who viewed the idea with considerable disgust.



“Certainly not,” replied the scout master. “Let Harkness come and get his property if he wants, for all of us. We’ve saved him all the trouble of cleaning up his pack. He ought to thank us for it; but, if what Amos here says about him is true, I don’t believe he will.”



“Well,” said Jack, frowning, “he’d better not get too gay and try to blame us for cleaning out the pack, because we won’t stand any abuse. It was a case of give and take. They meant to pull us down and make a fine meal; and they got what was coming to them. Harkness had better go slow how he complains.”



“I was wondering,” mused Ned, as he settled down comfortably again, just as though nothing worth mentioning had happened to disturb him, “whether anything had come to Harkness?”



“How could there?” demanded Jimmy.



“Oh! of course, I don’t know, but then it might be the wolves had caught him off his guard and torn him to pieces before they skipped out. If we have time, perhaps we ought to go around that way and see if there’s anything wrong.”



The others did not seem to look at it in the same light that Ned was doing.



“A waste of time, Ned,” Jack declared, vehemently.



“That’s what I say,” added Harry.



“Can’t see what it matters to us whether the old rascal has been hoisted by his own infernal machine or not!” grumbled Jimmy.



“But don’t forget that we’re scouts,” Ned continued impressively, “and that we ought to follow the scout law which teaches us to do good, even to our enemies, if the chance opens up.”



“After we’ve licked the same good and plenty, I admit,” Jimmy spoke up, with one of his famous grins decorating his freckled face and a twinkle in his eye. “P’raps you’re right, Ned; and, as we’ve upset the old man’s business, we could call that a lickin’ and let her go at that. If you’re of the same mind in the mornin’, tell me. But say, I b’lieve I could snatch a few winks right now, since things have calmed down.”



Save for the distant mournful howling of several of the hungry wolves nothing was to be heard all around them. So after arranging for keeping “watch and watch,” the scouts turned in. Amos snuggled down alongside them; while Jack, upon whom had fallen the choice for the first spell at playing sentry, settled his back up against a tree, laid his ready gun across his knees, and prepared to do his duty.



The fire burned brightly for a long time and Jack sat there thinking of many things connected with both the past and the immediate future. Doubtless, he felt that it began to look as though they were not yet through with hazards and adventures on this trip, when, on what was practically their first night out on the open plain, they had been so savagely beset by Harkness’ escaped wolf pack.



By degrees even the distant howling of the few survivors died away, as they no doubt started for the distant mountains, afraid to come back to the scene of the recent carnage, even though the scent of blood must have tempted them dreadfully.



Jimmy had gone to sleep immediately he lay down, for he never knew the time when he could not forget his troubles in sweet slumber. Once or twice he managed to get on his back and aroused Ned by his heavy breathing. On these occasions the scout master was in the habit of giving the offender a sharp punch in the ribs and it seemed as though Jimmy understood what was wanted, even in his sleep, for he would inevitably turn over on his side.



Ned had just been through the third experience of this kind and was wondering whether he had not better suggest that they always tie Jimmy in a certain position as he lay down to sleep, when he heard a voice close by.



As Ned instantly sat up he recognized the tones as belonging to Pard Jack, who was evidently laying down the law to some party:



“Hold up your hands, you there in the bushes, and step right up to the fire, or I’ll shoot; and, let me tell you, this gun goes straight! Lively now, Mister, and no foolishness! Oh! Ned! come here, will you? We’ve got a visitor!”



CHAPTER VIII.

AN UNWELCOME GUEST

When Ned started toward the spot where he knew Jack was on guard, he could hear Harry groping for his rifle, and this told him the other would also be close on his heels. Harry, finding that Jimmy still slumbered peacefully, managed to give him a severe poke in the ribs as he passed that had an immediate effect.



“Here, who’s doin’ that now?” broke from Jimmy’s lips, and then, no doubt, he suddenly realized that there was something up, for he saw Ned poking the fire, holding his gun in the other hand, and Harry also standing erect, armed in the same manner.



Accordingly, Jimmy made haste to discover his gun and follow after them. In the meantime, the dusky figure among the bushes which Jack was covering had stood erect and started to advance toward the fire, as ordered, holding his hands high above his head.



“It’s Harkness!” cried out the kid puncher, who had been on his feet about as soon as Ned; and, somehow, no one was much surprised at the information thus conveyed.



Ned saw that Harkness was just about such a looking man as one might picture if asked to describe a wolf-raiser. He had grayish hair and a scraggy beard; his face was ugly, and his eyes, like those of a rat for keenness and audacity. Taken in all, he was as tough looking a character as the scouts had run across in many a day.



“Wot d’ye mean a holdin’ a man up thisaway, when he jest natrally draps in to arsk who killed them pets o’ his’n?” the wolf-herder blurted out, though careful not to take his hands down, for he knew that Jack was still covering him with that dangerous looking repeating rifle, and there was an air of business about the weapon that warned him not to get careless.



“Oh! you can lower your hands now, if you want,” Jack sang out, “because we’re all on deck and could riddle your hide with lead if you tried to use your gun. So just take things easy now, Mr. Harkness, if that’s your name.”



“It air!” growled the man, staring hard at each boy in turn, as though he did not know what to make of their khaki uniforms and was a little afraid he had run up against a detachment of United States regulars.



“And I reckon then that all these dead wolves belonged to you?” Ned went on to remark, as he swept his hand around.



The man said something hard under his breath.



“Ye gone an’ busted up my bizness, thet’s wot ye done, w’en ye laid out tuh kill the animiles!” he complained, as he gritted his yellow teeth very much as one of the wounded wolves had done at Ned’s approach.



“That couldn’t be helped, Harkness,” the scout master told him. “Your wolves had broken out, and you couldn’t expect to ever trap many of them again, at the best. They came at us like fury, and we had to defend ourselves, or we’d have been torn to pieces like a flash. And that’s why this happened. We weren’t out hunting for trouble; but you’ve lost you pack on account of a weak place in your pen.”



“But ain’t yuh meanin’ tuh pay me anything fo’ shootin’ up my pets thisaways?” Harkness demanded, trying to look fierce, though keeping an eye on Jack with his ready gun.



Jimmy laughed out very loud.



“Would you be after hearing the nerve of him, fellers?” he exclaimed in derision. ’Tis meself that thinks it sounds like adding insult to injury. After lettin’ the pack loose to make a square meal from us, then askin’ pay, because we had to fight to save our precious lives. ’Tis a rare joke, it is – not on your tintype, Mister Harkness. Our principle is ‘millions for defense, not a plunk for tribute.’ So put that in your pipe and smoke it.“



“You’ve got a lot of assurance, Harkness,” Ned told him, severely, “to think of asking such a thing. Why, the boot is on the other foot, and we ought to be demanding that you pay us back for all the ammunition it took to clean up your pack for you. I’m half inclined to believe we could prosecute you for keeping such a lot of savage animals. You’d be wise to go mighty slow about trying to make trouble for any of us. We might take a notion to run you in.”



The man’s whole demeanor changed when he discovered that his bluster was not going to alarm the scouts.



“I hopes now,” he went on to say in a whining tone, “thet yuh won’t keep me from taking the pelts off my poor pets. They’s worth sumpin’ tuh me, likewise the scalps o’ the same. I been bankin’ on thet money this long time. Hit’s all I got tuh see me through the winter. Don’t be too hard on me, gents. I’m out o’ the wolf raisin’ line fo’ keeps, arter this bust-up.”



Ned consulted with his chums for a minute or two and then turned again to the intruder.



“Here’s what we propose to have you do, Harkness,” he remarked, with such an air of finality that the man knew he must yield to circumstances, “hand over that gun of yours to me; you’ll get it again in the morning, when we break camp. Then lie down and go to sleep. One of us will be on the watch all the time, so if you try any monkey-doodle business, as Jimmy here would call it, better go slow, or something will happen. Do you understand that, Harkness?”



The man’s ugly face grew as black as a thunder cloud, and then with an effort he tried to grin, though it only added to his unsavory appearance.



“Thar be times w’en a feller has tuh eat crow an’ I reckons as how this be sech a time fo’ me, younker,” he said, slowly. “Oh! I hain’t no ’jections tuh stayin’ hyar alongside the fire; but I hopes as how yuh’ll let me hev my pelts w’en mo’nin’ comes ’long.”



“Yes, we’ll agree to that and, if you behave, you can take your property after we clear out in the morning. Perhaps we’ll go so far as to invite you to breakfast, too, in the bargain, Harkness, to show that we have no bad feelings because your pack made us have a pretty hot session to-night. So that’s settled. Your gun, please.”



The wolf-herder handed it over, though with an ill grace. No doubt, he was what they call a “bad man” down in the Southwest, and this thing of being made a prisoner by a parcel of half-grown boys, as it seemed, galled him greatly.



After that he dropped down near the fire, clasped both arms about his knees and stared moodily into the flames.



“Jack, seems to me you’ve outstayed the time limit we set,” Ned suggested, after taking a quick look up to where the moon was sailing through a star-decked sky; for scouts early learn to tell time from the positions of heavenly bodies, and the setting of a star will be almost as sure an indication that a certain hour has arrived as though a watch had been consulted.



“Oh! well, I thought you seemed to be sleeping so sound that I’d let it run on a little,” the other made answer, for Jack was as generous as they make boys, “and then, you see, I got interested watching

him

 come creeping along like a snake, stopping every minute to examine one of the dead wolves, and saying something to himself each time, like he kept getting madder and madder.”



“Well, I’m going on duty now, Jack, so just crawl over to your blanket and turn in,” said Ned, in his quiet but positive way.



Amos was hovering near him at the time, as though he wanted to say a few words on the sly. He found the chance when Ned sat down, also leaning against the same tree that had supported the other vidette.



“I wouldn’t think too much about hurtin’ the feelings of that old mule-skinner if I was you, Ned,” the kid cow-puncher went on to say, “he ain’t near so mad as he puts on. Why, if it hadn’t been for you and the rest, he’d never got a single pelt of all that pack. They were free and would a got clear away, if we hadn’t rounded the same up here. Fifteen hides, and as many scalps, he gets, without wasting his ammunition. He’s putting on – that’s what. But keep an eye out for him, Ned. That was a smart trick to take his gun away; but you’ve only scotched the snake, not killed it.”



Ned promised that he would watch the wolf-herder closely and not allow him to make any sort of suspicious move.



“I don’t think he means to try any funny business, though,” he added. “You see he stands to lose all his pelts if he pulls his freight and gives us the good-bye sign. And with five against him, the odds are too big; for a boy with a rifle can be just as dangerous as a full-grown man.”

 



It was somewhere near one o’clock at the time of the alarm. The moon was high up in the heavens and even starting down her road toward the western horizon.



Ned kept watch and ward diligently. He did not mean to be caught napping by any unsuspected circumstance. It was hardly likely that Harkness could have any allies near by. Ned had been particular in asking about that, and Amos assured him that so far as he knew, the wolf-herder conducted his business alone, shunning the society of others, save on rare occasions when he came to town for a spree.



The night passed away without anything else happening to disturb the sleep of Jimmy. Harry awoke later on and insisted on taking his turn at keeping watch; so Ned secured his blanket and lay down close to him, having impressed it on Harry’s mind that, at the least sign of a movement on the part of Harkness, he was to reach out a hand and shake him.



But just as Ned had said, the wolf man must have figured it out that he had everything to gain and nothing to lose by staying where he was and waiting for the boys to break camp, when his gun would be returned and himself left at liberty to rid those dead animals of their shaggy gray coats.



Jimmy was thoughtful to cook enough breakfast for an extra mouth, and so Harkness was given his full share of coffee, bacon, and fried potatoes, as well as all the crackers he could eat.



He said little or nothing, unless some question happened to be fired his way, when he would make a curt answer. All the while he kept his ears open and eyed the boys in a suspicious way, as though disturbed by their presence in the neighborhood. Those suits of khaki evidently puzzled Harkness, who could never have run across Boy Scouts before and knew nothing about their ways.



Noticing these looks on his part, and how he appeared to be listening intently, as though desirous of picking up certain information that might prove of value to him later on, Ned cautioned his chums against speaking of their affairs. This he managed to do, through certain gestures and nods, when the man’s eyes happened to be turned in another direction.



Later on they made ready to pull up stakes and once more start on their journey toward the cattle ranch, which they expected to reach before sunset on this same day.



Harkness was eagerly waiting to be handed his gun, which Ned had taken the trouble to unload while it was in his possession. There was not much chance that the man would dare fire upon them, since he knew what the result would be and how apt to prove unpleasant for a fellow of his size; but, then, Ned believed in taking all precautions possible, and he certainly did not like the looks of that heavy face with its rat-like eyes, which Jimmy compared with the glittering orbs of a pet ferret he had at home.



He had already been busily engaged removing the hides of the slain wolves and seemed to be willing to accept what the fates had given him. All the same, Ned believed he was a treacherous character who would betray his best friend for a money consideration, and he did not mean to trust him too far.



When everything had been packed and they were ready to depart, Ned laid the rusty gun of the wolf-herder on the ground.



“There’s your property, Harkness,” he remarked casually, “just as I promised. And I want to say in parting company with you, that I think you’re lucky to get about half your pelts, after losing the whole outfit. Of course, we don’t expect you to thank us for saving half a loaf; but we’ll be looking back as we leave here to see how you get on. And, Harkness, I wouldn’t be in any too big a hurry to step over to where I laid your gun. So-long!”



The man said never a word in reply but if looks could kill, surely Ned must have met his finish then and there, to judge from the black scowl that settled on the heavy face of the wolf man.



In this fashion, then, they started out on what they hoped would be their last day’s journey before arriving at the ranch of Harry’s uncle. All of the scouts seemed to be feeling particularly merry on this bright morning. Perhaps it was because of the clever way in which they had escaped from the many perils that had lain in wait to ambush them since leaving the Coast.



“We’re well out of gunshot distance by now,” observed Jack, “and he’s still working with his pelts, so it doesn’t seem as though we’d have any trouble with that Harkness. Of all the tough lo