The Boy Scouts in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver MineCarter, Herbert, active 1909-1917
General
The Boy Scouts in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine
Carter, Herbert, active 1909-1917
Boy Scouts -- Juvenile fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Juvenile fiction
"I jest don't like it around here, and that's what," they heard him say
presently. "It ain't the nicest place agoin' either. Now what d'ye
reckon that ere rumbling noise was, we all heard a while ago? Waffles,
he sez it was thunder; but they ain't nary a cloud as big as my hand
anywhar 'round. Sounded more like earthquake noise to me. I was in that
shake down at Frisco remember, an' ain't likely to forgit how it starts.
If these here mountings began to roll over on us, we'd be in a nice
pickle, now, eh? I tell you I don't like it any too much."
"Drop that kind of talk, Dickey Bird," ordered the big prospector,
gruffly, "and draw up closer to the fire here. You're cold that's
what, and things they looks kind of blue like. Get warmed up and
you'll feel better. I've got a little dried meat in my knapsack, and
we'll chew on that for a change."
"Good for you, Kunnel!" exclaimed the discontented one, whose mood
probably had its inception in hunger, after all. "And don't be long
about passin' that same around, will ye? I'm that nigh famished I
could eat Indian dog, though I never thought I'd ever come to that."
The three prospectors sat down around the fire, and in order to
overhear what they might say while they munched at the tough pemmican,
Thad crept closer to the vine screen.
Something moved ahead of him, and he thought he saw the vines tremble,
as though giving passage to some sort of body. Immediately afterwards
there was a shout from one of the three prospectors, and they could be
seen scrambling hastily to their feet, showing every evidence of alarm.
"What is that coming this way?" roared Kracker.
"Say, looks like on'y a wolf cub, arter all!" declared Dickey Bird, with
a catch in his husky voice, showing plainly how startled he had been.
"Well, now, that's just what it seems to be; knock the critter on the
head, one of you," and the big man dropped back again to his seat.
It was Waffles who picked up a club, and jumping forward, hastened to
wind up the earthly career of the motherless wolf whelp; though the
savage little beast snarled furiously at his approach, and showed fight.
"Now I wonder what next?" remarked Kracker, as he watched the other
engaged in a regular fight with the cub, which would not give up the
ghost as easily as Waffles had evidently anticipated.
Indeed, the second man had to also arm himself with a club, and put in
a few vicious blows before the wolf whelp was subdued.
"That's what comes to a man when he ain't got no gun!" complained
Dickey Bird; from which remark it might be taken for granted that if
there was only one revolver in the crowd, which the scouts had allowed
them to retain possession of, Kracker had made sure to hold that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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