Pluck on the Long Trail; Or, Boy Scouts in the RockiesSabin, Edwin L. (Edwin Legrand)
General
Pluck on the Long Trail; Or, Boy Scouts in the Rockies
Sabin, Edwin L. (Edwin Legrand)
Boy Scouts of America -- Juvenile fiction; Hiking -- Juvenile fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Juvenile fiction
We hurried more, at Scout pace, which is trotting and walking mixed. And
next--
"Now they've got on the burros," said Fitz. "There aren't any sole
tracks and the burros' hoofs dig deeper."
The fellows surely were making time. I could imagine how they kicked and
licked Sally and Apache, to hasten. And while we hastened, too, we must
watch the signs and be cautious that we didn't overrun or get ambushed.
Where the sun shone we could tell that the sign was still an hour or
more old, because the edges of the hoof-marks were baked hard; and
sticks and stones turned up had dried. And in the shade the bits of
needles and grass stepped on had straightened a little. And there were
other signs, but we chose those which we could read the quickest. (Note
33.)
We were high up among cedars and bushes, on a big mesa. There were
cattle, here, and grassy parks for them. Most of the cattle bore a Big W
brand. The trail the cattle had made kept dividing and petering out, and
we had to pick the one that the burros took. The fellows were riding,
still, but not at a trot so much. Maybe they thought that we had been
left, by this time. Pretty soon the burros had been grabbing at branches
and weeds, which showed that they were going slower, and were hungry;
and the fellows had got off and were walking. The sun was high and the
air was dry, so that the signs were not so easy to read, and we went
slower, too. The country up here grew open and rocky, and at last we
lost the trail altogether. That was bad. The general and I circled and
scouted, at the sides, and Fitz went on ahead, to pick it up beyond,
maybe. Pretty soon we heard him whistle the Elks' call.
He had come out upon a rocky point. The timber ended, and before and
right and left was a great rolling valley, of short grasses and just a
few scattered trees, with long slopes holding it like a cup. The sun was
shining down, and the air was clear and quivery.
"I see them," said Fitz. "There they are, General--in a line between us
and that other point of rocks."
Hurrah! This was great news. Sure enough, when we had bent low and
sneaked to the rocks, and were looking, we could make out two specks
creeping up the sunshine slope, among the few trees, opposite.
That was good, and it was bad. The thieves were not a mile ahead of us,
then, but now we must scout in earnest. It would not do for us to keep
to the trail across that open valley. Some fellows might have rushed
right along; and if the other fellows were sharp they would be looking
back, at such a spot, to watch for pursuers. So we must make a big
circuit, and stay out of sight, and hit the trail again on the other
side.
We crept back under cover, left a "warning" sign on the trail (Note
34), and swung around, and one at a time we crossed the valley higher
up, where it was narrower and there was brush for cover. This took time,
but it was the proper scouting; and now we hurried our best along the
other slope to pick up the trail once more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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