Читать книгу The Complete Young Alaskans Series – All 5 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition) - Emerson Hough - Страница 43

Table of Contents

It was very early in the morning when the boys heard Uncle Dick calling from his tent.

“Hello, there, young men! Are you awake?”

“Yes,” answered Jesse, but so sleepily that Uncle Dick laughed.

“It’s a shame to wake you up so early. How are you?”

“All right, except my knees are a little sore from riding so long yesterday.”

“Well, if you’ll all roll out, I’ll explain why I’m anxious to make so early a start.”

“Yes, Uncle Dick,” grumbled John, rolling over in his blankets; “you always want to make an early start, and you’ve always got some reason.”

Uncle Dick laughed and called Moise from his tent. “Well, I’ll tell you,” said he. “We’ve got to make the Leavings to-day.”

“The Leavings — what’s that?” asked Rob.

“I’ll tell you at breakfast,” said Uncle Dick. “Now hustle out and get the horses up.”

In half an hour they were all at breakfast, the better for some warm food and a cup of tea. “Now I’ll tell you,” said Uncle Dick, “why I’m in a hurry to-day. If we can make the Leavings by night, we’ll have a good camp-ground with plenty of grass for the horses. Besides, it gives us a good starting-place for the next day’s march.”

“But the ‘Leavings’ — what is that or what are they?” demanded Rob.

“It’s the old traders’ name for the place where the trail leaves the McLeod River and starts west for the Athabasca.”

Rob fished his map out of his pocket. “I see,” said he. “The river bends south from here, and I suppose we go up the Sun Dance Creek and cut across to the other end of the bend — the place they call White Mud Creek. Then we hang to the McLeod straight on to the Leavings?”

“That’s right. It’s the best part of twenty-five miles, but it’s a good trail and not much muskeg.”

“Well, what is a muskeg, anyhow,” asked Jesse, “unless it’s just a mud-hole?”

“That’s precisely what it is — just a mud-hole,” answered Uncle Dick. “Under a muskeg there is clay or hardpan which won’t let the water through. So it is always full of mud. Drain the water off a muskeg, and it soon gets dry. They’ll have to do a lot of that work up here one of these days. But now I’ve told you why I want to make an early start this morning; and I want you to help hustle with the packs too. It’s time you’re learning about that diamond hitch.”

“All right,” said Rob, “we’ll take half the horses, and you and Moise take the other half. Mollycoddles are no good on the trail.”

“They’re no good anywhere. And the way to learn to do a thing is to do it. Rob, take the off side of the first horse, and let John see if he can remember how to throw the hitch on the near side.”

“I’ll tell you what you are, Uncle Dick,” said John, leaving the fire with a piece of bannock still in his hand.

“Well, what then?” smiled Uncle Dick.

“You’re not an engineer — you’re a contractor! That’s what you are.”

“It comes to the same thing. You’ll have to learn how men work in the open and get the big things done through doing little things well.”

The boys now busied themselves about their first horse. After a while, with considerable trouble and a little study, Rob turned to Uncle Dick. “How’s that for the cinch, sir?” he asked.

Uncle Dick tried to run his finger under the lash-hook and nodded approvingly.

“Didn’t it hurt him awfully?” asked Jesse. “He groaned as though it did.”

“Don’t believe all the groans of a pack-horse in camp,” said Uncle Dick. “Try the girth a half-mile out on trail. But now hurry up with the next ones. That’s right, John, you’re throwing the cross loop all right. That’s right — just remember to fix the hitch so it draws every way — and don’t forget to pull it tight.”

The boys got on very well with their packing until they came to the claybank horse which had given Moise so much trouble. This one proved still rather wild, snorting and jumping about when they tried to put a blanket and saddle on him.

“What are we going to do with him, Uncle Dick?” asked Rob. “The three of us can hardly hold him.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Tie him to a tree and put this blinder over his eyes.” He kicked toward Rob a heavy piece of leather semicircular in form and with a thong tied at the corners. Rob picked it up, and after studying it for a moment dropped the blinder over the claybank’s face. To his surprise the horse now stood quite still.

“Well, what do you know about that? He thinks he’s blind!” said Rob.

“Never mind what he thinks. Just go ahead and pack him.”

Very much to their surprise, the boys found that as long as the claybank had the blinder over his eyes he stood quite patient and docile, not making any protest against the saddle or packs, although when they removed the blinder he snorted and kicked about quite a bit, testing thoroughly the hitch-rope by which he had been made fast. When the time came to start, however, he had once more changed his mind, and took his place meekly at the end of the train.

Meantime Moise had started up all the saddle-ponies, and the boys, slinging their rifles and other gear to the saddles, all were soon mounted and on the trail even before the sun was fifteen minutes high.

“Well, that’s what I call work,” said John. “I don’t know but I’d rather travel in a boat than go this way. You don’t have to saddle up a boat every morning and hustle around to keep from getting tramped on.”

“Ah, but there’s nothing like the mountains, fellows,” said Rob; “and a pack-train will take us right into the middle of them.”

“Well, the nights are so short away up here north in Canada and Alaska that a fellow has to go to bed in the daylight and get up in the dark. If you don’t watch out you’ll get fooled out of your night’s sleep.”

“You will if you don’t watch Uncle Dick,” said Rob, smiling.

“Well, anyhow, you’ve done several good days’ work already. From this time on we’ll have it easier — maybe.”

“What do you suppose he means by that?” asked John of Rob.

“I don’t know,” said Rob, “but we’ll find out to-morrow — maybe.”