The Young Alaskans in the Rockies Part 4

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 d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k," said John, leaving the fire with a piece of bannock still in his hand.

"Well, what then?" smiled Uncle d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k. "How's that for the cinch, sir?" he asked.

Uncle d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k. "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 d.i.c.k?" 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 d.i.c.k," 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."

V

HIGHER THAN THE ROCKIES

"How far to-day, sir?" asked Rob of the leader of their party, when, having left their camp on the bank of the McLeod at the spot known as the Leavings, they had headed straight west toward the steep divide which rose before them.

"That all depends on luck," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "We've got to climb that divide and get down off the top of it. By noon we'll be higher than the Rocky Mountains!"

"That isn't possible, of course."

"I didn't say higher than the highest peak in the Rocky Mountains. But as a matter of fact on top of the divide between the McLeod and the Athabasca we are four thousand six hundred and forty feet above sea-level, and that is nine hundred and seventeen feet higher than the summit of the Yellowhead Pa.s.s where we cross the Rockies."

"It doesn't look like a very easy trail," said Rob.

"No, on the contrary, it is one of the most dismal and desolate parts of the whole march, with its burned forests and its steep grades.

Besides, some of the worst muskeg in the country is on each side of this Athabasca divide--it just runs in terraces all up and down both sides."

"When does the first one come?" asked Rob.

"Just before we get ready for it! But if you don't discover when we get there I'll let you know. To my notion, this looks considerable like a muskeg just on ahead of us. Now we'll take a little lesson in muskeg work. What I want to say to you is, that you must never get angry and excited, either over muskeg or mosquitoes. Take it easy all the time."

They paused now at the edge of what seemed a thicket covered with low bushes, which rose above green moss and tufts of gra.s.ses. In places the swamp looked as though it would hold up either a man or a horse.

None the less, the boys could see where long ago an attempt had been made to corduroy the bog. Some of the poles and logs, broken in the middle, stuck up out of the mud. A black seam, filled with broken bits of poles, trampled moss and bushes, and oozing mud, showed the direction of the trail, as well as proved how deceptive the surface of an unbroken muskeg can be.

"Now, Jesse," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "you and John take your guns and go across on foot on one side of the trail. It will probably hold you if you keep moving and step on the tufts and the bushes. The rest of us will have to do the best we can with the horses."

"Why can't the horses go out there, too?" demanded Jesse. "It looks all right."

"There are times," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "when I wish all horses had been born with webbed feet. The hoof of a horse seems made purposely to cut through a muskeg, and the leg of a horse is just long enough to tangle him up in one. None the less, here is the muskeg, and here we are with our horses, and we must get across. We'll not go dry into camp this day, nor clean, either."

The two younger boys were able to get across without any very serious mishaps, and presently they stood, a hundred yards or more away, waiting to see what was going to happen. The horses all stood looking at them as though understanding that they were on the farther side of the troublesome country.

"Get in, Danny," said Uncle d.i.c.k, and slapped his riding-pony on the hip. The plucky little horse walked up to the edge of the soft ground, pawing at it and sniffing and snorting in dislike. Uncle d.i.c.k slapped him on the hip once more, and in Danny plunged, wallowing ahead belly-deep in the black slime, slipping and stumbling over the broken bits of poles, and at times obliged to cease, gallant as were his struggles. Of course the saddle was entirely covered with mud. None the less, in some way Danny managed to get across and stood on the farther side, a very much frightened and disgusted horse.

"She's a bad one, Moise," said Uncle d.i.c.k, thoughtfully. "I don't know how they'll make it with the loads, but we've got to try. Come on, Rob, let's drive them in."