Two Boys in Wyoming: A Tale of Adventure: (Northwest Series, No. 3)Ellis, Edward Sylvester
General
Two Boys in Wyoming: A Tale of Adventure: (Northwest Series, No. 3)
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Frontier and pioneer life -- Wyoming -- Juvenile fiction; Western stories; Wyoming -- Juvenile fiction
"I've just said they wasn't. There's lots of 'em that would make an
ordinary white man ashamed of himself. But most of 'em are alike. What
I'm driving at is to knock out of your head any idee that this Motoza
that you let up on last night thinks any more of you for it. It's
t'other way. He despises you fur a coward, and if he ever gits the
chance he'll prove what I say is true."
This was depressing information for the youths, but they did not think
it seeming to express any doubts of the sentiments of one who was so
much better informed than they. They hoped that their own experience
would be of a different nature.
Having set out with the intention of reaching the ranch that evening,
the guide had made the necessary preparations. He rolled up enough
cooked pieces of veal to avert the need of starting another fire and
looking for more food. So it came about that when the boys began to
consult their watches and hint of it being near meal time, he drew rein
at another stream of water, where the ponies were allowed to rest and
graze while their masters refreshed themselves. The animals had been
pressed as much as was prudent; and Hazletine, looking at the sky and
their surroundings, said they were making better progress than he had
counted upon.
The weather remained all that could be desired, though he assured them
that a heavy rain-storm was impending, and would break within
twenty-four hours--an additional incentive for pushing forward.
They were hardly ever out of sight of cattle. Sometimes they were few in
numbers, and then they suggested the droves of buffaloes, which, before
the animals were extirpated, numbered hundreds of thousands. Once the
horsemen approached so close that the cattle were frightened and a
partial stampede followed. That Hazletine was among acquaintances was
proved by the hails which he received from cowmen, most of whom were so
distant that the wonder was how they recognized one another. The boys
studied them through their spy-glasses, but, of course, all were
strangers to them.
When the afternoon was about half gone they came upon a stream that
looked formidable. It was a hundred yards in width, with a roiled and
rapid current, which, so far as the eye could determine, might be a
score of feet in depth. The prospect of having to swim their ponies
across was anything but pleasant, but the boys saw that a well-marked
trail led down to the bank where they approached it, showing that it had
been crossed and recrossed many times.
"There are places in that stream, which flows into the Platte," said the
guide, "where it is a hundred feet deep. It has whirlpools and eddies
where the best swimmer couldn't save himself, and even a grizzly bear
would drown."
"I hope those places are a good way off," said Jack.
"There's one of 'em right over there to the left."
"How are we going to reach the other side?" asked Fred, in dismay.
"Foller me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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