“Thunder Chief presented his father-in-law with a Medicine pipe, and taught him to sing the Sky Song that would always protect his tribe from storms and destruction from lightning. Then he turned to his wife and bade her good-by for a time, adding, ‘I will return soon for you, so be ready to go home. You shall visit your father often after this.’
“He then flew away and Mink Maiden sat with her father for several days, waiting for her husband to come. But there had been a dreadful commotion in the sky the day after he flew away from the village, and the people said they had never seen such blinding lights and such terrific rumbles, so the wife knew her husband was having a great battle with some one.
“The cause was, Crow Man had fought with Thunder Chief, although Mink Maiden never knew that. Crow Man was subdued for that time, but in the fall he sent the blackbird northward to call out all the Arctic forces to come and help keep Thunder Chief from coming to earth to carry back his wife. And so they did.
“Crow Man called often at Lame Bull’s lodge and all through the winter, when Mink Maiden sighed because her husband came not, Crow Man felt happy and tried to make her believe Thunder Chief had forgotten her.
“Then spring came on, and Mink Maiden wondered still more because she heard nothing of her husband, nor came he to the lodge. Crow Man urged his suit, but she laughed, for she was a wife already, she told him.
“All through that second year she sat in her father’s lodge and waited; but not a word heard she from the Sky People, nor did Thunder Chief come for her, although she was told that he had been heard of in other parts of the country, so it was learned that he was alive and active. Strange to say, neither Mink Maiden nor Lame Bull remembered the Medicine that had been given the old Chief, to keep away all storms from the tribe. This had proved so effectual that Thunder Chief could not communicate with his wife because of it, and she never went beyond the village limits, where he might have met her.
“That winter Crow Man urged his love again, and begged Mink Maiden to marry him, so she finally sighed and said:
“‘I am Thunder Chief’s wife, but if he does not come to claim me in another year, I will go with you.’
“Crow Man was overjoyed at hearing this, and he worked very hard to keep away all reports of Thunder Chief from the village. Then, as Mink Maiden waited hopelessly for the return of her husband, the year rolled by and Crow Man came for her. So she followed him to his lodge, although she still remembered Thunder Chief with regret.
“Crow Man was jealous of her memories and was determined to cure her. So he planned a dreadful thing. He sent the blackbird for the North Forces, and when they came in obedience to his order, he told them what they must do.
“Then he asked Mink Maiden to walk with him through the lovely woods a distance from the village. And as they walked, the wife saw Thunder Chief approach with outstretched arms and call to her in a yearning voice. He cried, ‘At last, my beloved, you are where I can reach you. All these moons have I longed to meet you, but you sat in the lodge where my own Medicine that I gave your father, kept me away.’
“Thunder Chief hurried forward, but the Arctic Forces ran out from their hiding-places and fell upon Thunder Chief, just as he was waiting to enfold his beloved in his cloak. With their cold icy blasts and whirling snow and sleet, they overpowered poor Thunder Chief. In spite of his roaring and sharp lightnings, his power was frozen into sharp points. And that is how icicles came to be upon all Nature’s trees and bushes when the North Forces scatter broadcast the power of the Sky Forces.
“Mink Maiden saw her beloved turned to ice before her eyes, and she went away, weeping, to her home with Lame Bull. And Crow Man besought her in vain to return to his lodge. She would not, and that is why the Crow always calls, ‘Come, come, come!’
“And every year when the time returns that Thunder Chief came for his bride and the North Forces overpowered him, you will see Mink Maiden come from the woods, weeping over her lost love.”
When Tally concluded this legend, the scouts called for another, but Mr. Gilroy mentioned that the three men planned to get an early start for the glacier fields and it was time to retire. So the two guides prepared the fire for the night and the girls began their good-nights.
Mr. Lewis stopped them, however. “Scouts, I want to say a word to you. I notice that you do not know the Indian walk – the only way to walk in the woods and not grow weary. In fact, the way all the wild creatures walk, whether they run or creep, without making a sound that will attract attention to them.”
“No one ever gave it a thought, Lewis,” admitted Mr. Gilroy. “Now that you mention it, suppose you show the girls, and let them practice, to-morrow, with the guides to teach them.”
Mr. Lewis then demonstrated the white man’s walk and the natural gait of the Indian. The two guides walked to show exactly what he meant, and then the girls were told to do it.
“Walk perfectly erect, – not leaning from the waist-line forward, as most people do. Plant your feet with more weight coming upon the sole instead of on the heel of the foot. Always turn your toes straight forward, and take your steps, one foot directly in front of the other so that the track you leave will look like a one-footed man walking a chalk-line.
“Once you have acquired this gait, you will wonder that you ever walked in any other manner. You can walk a narrow ledge, or stick to any foothold that a living creature can go on, without slipping from lack of room for your feet.
“But the greatest benefit such a walk is for one in the forests, is that you can proceed without making any noise. You will not be soaked with the dew that remains on leaves or undergrowth; and after you have taken a long hike you will feel fresh, and have enough energy to start on another trip.”
The scouts practiced that night, and had many a good laugh at the awkward steps they took when first trying the Indian gait. But they finally acquired it, and with daily practice in the woods, they soon walked as well as Mr. Lewis himself.
CHAPTER EIGHT – SCRUB’S UNEXPECTED HUNTING TRIP
Mr. Lewis’s dog, Scrub, was a never-ending source of fun and entertainment for the scouts. He was a most intelligent animal, and understood everything said to him. In fact, his owner said that Scrub was far more intelligent and practical than many human beings he had known. He also told the girls that they could follow Scrub into the woods if the guides could not go with them, and he would always bring them back by easy trails – he had such a wonderful sense of location and traveling.
The first day in camp, after the three men had started for the glacier field, Tally and Omney had to complete minor details in the camping arrangements, so the scouts did not ask to be taken for a hike up the mountainside. Scrub nosed about for a time, trying to attract the girls’ attention by his “talk” but when they failed to understand, he ran away alone, and was not seen again until late that afternoon.
He came tearing into camp, barking excitedly, and jumping about the guides and the scouts, as if to tell them of some thrilling adventure he had experienced in the woods that day. They made much of him, but finally his master scolded him for barking so shrilly, so Scrub placed his stub tail between his hind legs and crept under a tree.
The next day Scrub began again to caper about and bark excitedly to invite the scouts to go hunting with him. But they laughed, and Julie said to him, “We’re going with Tally and Hominy after a while.”
It was not, however, to Scrub’s liking that they tarried so long in camp, and he started away alone. Then when the guides were all ready to go with the scouts, the dog was not to be found.
“Ev’buddy take gun dis time,” suggested Tally.
“Oh, what fun! Shall we find any wild animals?” asked Joan.
“Mebbe – dunno.”
The Captain warned the girls about using the rifles without first noting all the conditions, and told them not to use them under any circumstances if there was no danger. As each scout knew perfectly well how to carry the firearm so as to protect others, and as every one used precaution at all times, there was no risk of accident.
The woods were still wet from the heavy night-dew, but the girls found their newly-acquired step protected their skirts from much moisture. The sun was sending its searching light into every secret nook of the forest, and soon the dew evaporated and the gloom in the dense woods brightened. The many hitherto hidden things in the forest now stood clearly revealed in the sunshine.
They followed the trail that led up the mountainside back of the camp. Tally waved his hand in an inclusive sweep at the sun, then at the forest it shone upon, and remarked, “Him no shine in long. Onny mornin’ – den shadow come back an’ fores’ grow black agin.”
The scouts were eagerly gazing at one thing or another in their progress up the steep trail when Betty gave a little cry and jumped out of the way.
“What is it – a rattler?” cried many voices, anxiously.
“No, but the cutest little rabbit I ever saw, – just like the one Verny caught and helped in the Adirondacks, you know.”
Tally then added, “No rattlers on dis side Rockies, all on udder side mountains.”
“Betty’s scream would make one think she was facing a grizzly!” said Julie, scornfully.
“I wasn’t frightened, – it startled me, that’s all,” Betty said, defensively.
“Was it big enough for rabbit pie?” asked Anne, unwittingly calling down the reproaches of all the scouts upon her head.
As they scolded Anne for always thinking of something to eat, – even a darling little rabbit, – Tally suddenly held up a hand for silence. Instantly everything was quiet. Then they heard distinctly the plaintive cry of a distressed animal.
“Dat deer call. Him ’fraid an’ need help. Shall us go?” explained Tally.
“Oh, yes, Tally, by all means!” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon.
So they pushed a way through the thick screen of pines until they came to a clearing where the trees had been burned down. The sun shone into the place, clearly showing the scene of a forest tragedy which was about to be enacted there.
The two guides made way for the scouts to crowd up beside them, and there they saw a well-grown deer in the center of the tiny park. It was still young and inexperienced, as was shown by the way it backed around and voiced its horror and fear.
“What is it afraid of, Tally?” questioned the Captain, because her unaccustomed eyes saw nothing to fear.
“See on limb dere – where deer must go if she like to get out?” whispered Tally, pointing to one end of the clearing where a giant pine spread its branches far over the place.
Along the lowest bough crouched a panther, ready to leap. Its green eyes gleamed with hungry desire for the choice breakfast so near, and its sinuous tail whipped gracefully back and forth against the tree. But its gaze wavered from the deer to something at the other end of the clearing. What could be restraining this ferocious beast, whose claws, as they dug sharp nails into the wood of the tree, appeared ready to rip open the tender flesh of its prey?
Two sides of the clearing were made impassable for the deer by the close growth of aspens, interlocked like a brush-fence. At one end of the clearing the panther kept guard, but what was the cause of the starting eyes of the deer as it gazed at the nearer end – the end where the scouts stood?
“Ah, Omney – see?” breathed Tally, softly, as he pointed.
Then they saw a grey-brown animal about the size of Scrub, with a stubby tail. Its body was thick and short, and its head was round. It had gleaming eyes, green-slitted like a cat’s. Its ears were sharp-pointed and stood erect. The mouth was partly open, with the tongue showing its red edge between the fanglike teeth. Its rusty color merged so perfectly with the bushes that it was small wonder the scouts had not seen it immediately.
Its expression, the crouching pose, its tense muscles – all denoted its eagerness to taste the blood of the deer, but there was the panther to reckon with first! Now the girls realized the danger of the young deer. How could the poor thing hope to escape from a panther and a lynx?
When the lynx sensed the human beings, she snarled viciously, but showed no fear. Her entire attention was given to the movements of the panther. But the fact that her natural enemies, human beings, stood so close to her, made her act sooner than she might have done.
Tally whispered the situation in a breath. “Pant’er no jump, fear lynx get him an’ en get deer. Lynx ’fraid to jump firs’ ’cause pant’er den jump on bof an’ eat ’em.”
Then Omney whispered, “Tally shoot pant’er, an’ me shoot lynx – same time. When I say fire – den shoot!”
So the two guides slowly lifted their rifles and aimed. But the lynx had crept closer to the deer, which in turn sent a swift look of apprehension back at the beast that was now preparing to spring the moment the lynx leaped. The deer lifted its muzzle high and bleated forth a wailing cry, and at the same moment two rifles sounded.
The instant before they rang out, the lynx had jumped right at the throat of the deer, and the instant after the panther had leaped also. The bullet sped faster than the lynx could spring, and the latter fell with a heavy thud to roll over in the buffalo grass at the forefeet of the deer.
Omney’s shot at the panther, however, struck its right shoulder instead of a fatal spot. When the lynx rolled under the nose of the panic-stricken deer, the poor creature jumped over against the wall of aspens, and this leap spared its life. For the panther, instead of ripping open its throat as it planned to do, clawed a tear in its side and then rolled over on the grass. Instantly, the wild beast was up and about to spring again, when a shot from Tally’s gun ended its preying.
The frightened deer had seen the animal rise to spring again, but her eyes were so blinded with the pain and fury of the gash in her side, that she leaped high and brought both hoofs down upon her dead antagonist. Again and again she lifted her stiffened forelegs and drove her sharp hoofs into the spine of the dead panther. Finally, however, the deer realized that her enemy was dead, and swiftly she wheeled and fled from the clearing through the opening opposite the scouts.
As she disappeared, the girls relaxed the nervous tension that had held them absolutely motionless during the battle. Now they sighed, and Mrs. Vernon sat down where she had stood. Betty began crying softly, and said, “The poor deer! I hope its side will heal.”
“Sure! Him go roll in mud of shallow spring and it heal,” Tally assured her.
The lynx and panther were found to be splendid specimens of their individual kinds, and the scouts had the satisfaction of knowing that this big game had not been shot for mere sport. But, having saved the deer’s life by shooting the two wild beasts, the pelts naturally became trophies for the scouts to send home.
“They’re awfully big brutes, girls. We’ll never be able to carry them both back to camp to-day,” said Mrs. Vernon.
“Skin ’em – onny take back pelts,” said Omney.
“We want to have them stuffed, Hominy, so we need the heads and feet, too,” said Julie.
Tally looked at Omney and spoke in his native language. Then he turned to the scouts and interpreted what he said.
“I say, Omney skin animals wid head an’ feet on – us go on an’ help Omney on way back. Him done skin den.”
As no new adventure befell them that day, they retraced their steps and stopped for Omney and the pelts. That night the story was told to the three men, and it lost none of its coloring by having five scouts tell it, turn and turn about.
Scrub did not return to camp that night, and Mr. Lewis told Omney to start immediately after breakfast in the morning and see if any untoward accident had happened to the dog. Tally and the scouts would not remain behind, for they were very fond of the pet and worried lest he had been killed by a wild beast.
They chose the trail they had seen Scrub take the two previous days, and after climbing the mountain for a time, Tally and Omney argued over following a faint trail through a jungle. Tally pointed to a paw-track in the soft earth, but Omney declared it was not a dog’s track.
Yet Tally won his way, and started into the dense thicket. He had not gone more than a few yards before he exclaimed jubilantly and pointed to a wisp of Scrub’s hair that had been caught on a briar. Then Omney meekly admitted that Tally must be right in his intuitions.
After following the faint trail for a short time, Julie called out, “I’m sure I heard a dog bark just now.”
“Let’s shout. Maybe Scrub’s lost and is calling to us,” explained Betty, anxiously.
“Lost! Now Betty, you don’t know that dog if you say he could be lost,” retorted Joan.
They all distinctly heard a shrill bark, now, and Tally said, “Sound like him got wild animal trapped, an’ wan’ us help.”
Finally they were near enough to hear Scrub bark and yelp in reply to the plaintive whining of some other animal. Then Tally advised the girls, “You no call Scrub when you come up. Dog look to see you, an’ animal jump on him. No say anyting, but wait an’ let Tally shoot.”
This was hard sense, and the scouts agreed to obey. Just then they reached a spot where the forest trees were not so closely grown. Tally held his rifle ready to shoot if necessary, to spare the dog’s life, but when he came out of the fringe of pines that circled the small clearing where the dog barked, he stood amazed.
The scouts deplored the fact that the camera had been left at camp, as usual, for here was a most unique picture. Scrub stood stiffly, the hair along his spine standing upright from excitement. His stub tail vibrated so swiftly that one could not see it move – it seemed a blur of action. His front legs were braced, and he was yelping and barking at two little bear cubs.
They appeared as distressed and confused as the dog. One, the larger of the two, glared at Scrub with ferocious mien and at intervals, when the dog stopped barking for time to breathe, it would charge threateningly, but never got near enough to grapple with the dog.
The smaller cub circled whiningly about a huddled mass that lay under a great pine log. It would sniff about the heap and then sit upon its little haunches and cry quiveringly. It was this wail the scouts had heard in the distance.
At times Scrub would run over to the trail whence he found his friends approaching, then the little male-cub would join his sister at the black heap, and both would whine pitifully to the mother that was insensible to their cry. The moment Scrub was aware of any movement on the part of his opponent, he would tear back to engage his enemy in another wrangle of sounds.
“Um! No wonder Scrub no come home las’ night!” laughed Tally.
“Maybe that’s why he was so excited the night before – he wanted to tell us,” ventured Joan.
“Yes, but I’m surprised that he remained, when he found we would not follow him,” added Julie.
“He may have feared we might move camp and he would be left behind,” suggested Mrs. Vernon.
“I go see why mudder don’ help cubs,” said Tally. So he started across the clearing, followed by the girls.
“Um! See – big log fall from tree jus’ when bear go un’ner,” said the Indian, pointing up at the split bough that had been severed by lightning, with its heavy end left dangling for a time. It had fallen and struck the black mother-bear just as she was passing under, and it must have instantly killed her.
“The poor little babies!” sighed Betty.
“Can’t we catch them and train them?” asked Julie, eagerly.
“Dem die sure in woods – or beastes eat ’em,” said Tally.
“Dear me, we mustn’t have that!” cried Mrs. Vernon.
“If we could only tame them and send them to the Zoo in New York – what a fine thing that would be for the Girl Scouts’ Organization. It would be quite an honor,” exclaimed Ruth.
During the unfamiliar sound and sight of the scouts, the cubs blinked fearfully at them. What new calamity was now at hand – and mother lying there so still and helpless?
Scrub was ordered away from the bears and made to mind, while Tally planned how to catch the cubs.
“I use rope an’ lasso bof,” said he.
“We’ll surround the cubs, Tally, and Scrub can keep guard so they won’t run away, while you catch them,” planned Julie.
It was an easy task to catch the little girl-cub and tie her to a tree near the mother bear. But it was another matter to catch the boy-cub. Tally threw the lasso, but it merely struck the rump of the little fellow as he turned to investigate what his sister, who had been given a chunk of cake by one of the scouts, was eating.
The cub resented the slap from the rope, and snapped at it. But Tally dragged the lasso back, coaxing the bear-cub much nearer. When the rope was caught up to coil again, the frightened little fellow raced back to the tree where his sister sat. He was so cunning in his awkward gait that the scouts laughed heartily.
This time the rope caught him truly, and he rolled over with a jerk. He clawed and snapped and yelped at the bonds that kept him from running away; and when Tally took in the rope, the cub snapped viciously at him. Then the guide had to throw his coat over the cub’s head and fall upon it to wrap him in the folds.
But the forepaws were free, so the cub used them well, trying to tear the garment away from his head. So strong was the little fellow that Tally had his hands full to finally tie him about the neck. In this fight the cub earned his name of “Snap.”
When both cubs were securely tied to the tree, Tally went over to examine the old mother-bear. The scouts followed and stood looking down upon the huge body sprawled under the heavy log.
“Her dead at once. Her not hear babies cry – or nuddin’,” explained Tally, trying to lift the log from her back.
Several of the scouts assisted and soon the tree bough was rolled away, Scrub managing to get in every one’s way during the procedure.
“Her dead mos’ two day – babies no get milk to eat,” said Tally, after examining the teats and body of the bear.
“Mebbe we coax home wid eats,” suggested he, as he glanced from mother to cubs and back again.
“Tally, I brought some candy in my pocket,” said Anne, instantly producing the sweets.
“Bear like sugar. Us lead cubs easy wid dis.”
“Tally, how can we keep this dead bear so we can have her skin, too,” now asked Julie, anxiously.
“Oh, if we could only ship home such a magnificent bear pelt, wouldn’t we be proud!” sighed Joan.
“Kin skin and bury ’um now. Come back mornin’ an’ carry to camp. Got han’ full wid two cub to-day,” grinned the Indian.
“Oh, if you boys would skin it and save it for us!” sighed several eager scouts.
So the guides sharpened their great knives that they always carried in their belts, and began work on the dead bear. The girls would have fainted at such a sight a year before, but now they stood by without a quiver and watched the Indians skin the animal.
The pelt was soon stripped from the carcass, and the former was buried deep under the log, while the latter was left for the wolves, or other animals. While Tally finished this work the scouts gathered berries to feed to the starved cubs. The latter were so famished that they eagerly ate everything given them.
All the way home the scouts took turns in holding bits of candy in front of the cubs’ noses, to make them run for it. At some of these “home-runs” the cubs got the best of it, and the scouts had to drop the candy and jump aside, or be clawed in the bears’ eagerness to get the sweets. At such times Scrub barked and jumped at the harnessed cubs, and they in turn would fight back, so there ensued a wild scene of battle until Tally got the upper hand again.
Once the cubs were in camp and caged they became tame and friendly with every one, – even Scrub failed to draw a snarl from Snap now. The smaller of the two bears was named Yap, as she was forever wanting something to eat and yapped when she could not get it.
In a few days’ time they were freed from the homemade cage and tethered to a tree during the daytime. They furnished great amusement for the scouts; and Scrub was peeved because every one showed so much attention to these horrid little brutes, while he would permit petting without a snap if his friends were so inclined.
The campers had been on this site for almost two weeks before the men mentioned that they were ready to move along. The cubs were quite tame now, and ran about camp, playing with every one who would play with them. They were fine and plump, and the scouts gave much time to the currying of their soft silky coats and to teaching them tricks.
“What do you scouts intend doing with Snap and Yap when we start on the trail again?” asked Mr. Gilroy.
“Where do you plan to go from here, Gilly?” asked Julie.
“Why, Lewis is going back now that he has secured the special specimens he came to the glaciers for,” returned Mr. Gilroy; “but we are to go along to Flat Top, where I hope to spend some time at Tyndall, you know.”
“You told me, Gill, that you wanted to visit Mills’ Moraine and hunt for glacial deposits there,” ventured Mr. Lewis.
“So I did, but it is simply impossible for me to lead the scouts such a dance, and now that they have two bears to dance along with them, I shall have to forego Mills’,” laughed Mr. Gilroy, longingly.
“Is Mr. Lewis going right back to Denver, did you say?” asked Julie.
“Yes, he has a public lecture to give at the Auditorium, so he cannot go on with us,” explained Mr. Vernon.
“Then listen to my idea, and tell me what you think of it – everybody,” exclaimed Julie, eagerly.
“Why can’t Mr. Lewis take back our pelts and the cubs, and express them home for us?”
The very audacity of the suggestion made every one laugh at first, but after much talking it seemed not so impossible.
“Then Gilly and Uncle can go through their wonderful heaps of glacial débris, while Tally guides us along the trail to the Flat Top. We will meet again at the foot of Tyndall Glacier,” said Julie.
So out of all the talking and planning this was the result: Frolic was selected as being the best-behaved of the two mules; the double crate was harnessed to her back, and in each crate a little cub was secured. The pelts of the bear, the panther, and the lynx were strapped across her back, and she was ready to start back to Long’s Peak village, with Mr. Lewis and Omney. There the bears would be crated anew, and shipped to the Zoo at Central Park, New York City, while the pelts were to be expressed to Mrs. Vernon’s home to await the scouts’ return.
Mr. Lewis was then to send Frolic back with Omney, who was to trail with the party and help Tally in various ways, while his master finished his lecture tour in Colorado.
The morning of their departure, the cubs were scrubbed, combed, and fed to repletion by the scouts, then secured in the crates. They were oblivious of the tears shed by the scouts over their soft little bodies, for they were curled up and fast asleep after such a hearty breakfast.
When Mr. Lewis and Omney rode down the trail, the scouts wept forlornly while the little party was in sight, but once a bend in the pathway was turned, Scrub came in for his full share of love and petting again.
“If we could only have kept the cubs with us!” sighed Joan.
“Thank heavens we have Scrub left as a hostage for Frolic,” sighed Ruth, hugging the dog, who now ignored every fond attention.
“As it was impossible to ‘travel light’ with two bears, isn’t it much better the way we arranged it, girls?” asked Mrs. Vernon.
And they had to admit that such was the case.