CHAPTER XXIX

LOST ON THE MOUNTAIN

Up to that time the boys had been as cool, almost, as Jim himself.

But, at the idea that they were to slay the big and fierce creature standing so majestically before them, they experienced a touch of what is called "buck fever." Their hands shook so they could not sight their rifles. Even John, half Indian as he was, showed the effects of it.

"Steady," whispered Jim. "You're only shooting at a mark!"

At once the nerves of the boys quieted. Their hands became firm, and, raising their rifles they all took careful aim at the lion. Jim was watching them.

"Fire!" he suddenly exclaimed in a whisper, and the three rifles sounded as one.

Following the report, and mingling with it, came a scream so shrill and full of terror that the boys could not help jumping. Through the smoke they could see a big, tawny, yellow body leap high into the air, and then, falling back, begin to claw the earth and stones, while the screams continued to ring out.

"You nailed her!" cried Jim.

Hardly had he spoken before there was a rattling sound behind them.

All four turned, to see, crouching, not twenty feet away, a big, male mountain lion, ready to spring. It was the mate of the female the boys had just mortally wounded, and the big beast's eyes flashed fire as it saw the death struggles of its den-mate.

For a moment the hunters stood as if paralyzed. The sight of the lion in their rear had unnerved them. The male must have been stalking them, just as they had followed the other. As they watched, a sudden tremor seemed to run through the big brute's body.

"He's going to spring!" said Jim, in a low voice. At the same moment he brought his gun up, ready to fire.

An instant later the lion launched itself forward, propelled by muscles like steel springs, straight at the group, anger blazing in its eyes.

Bang! spoke Jim's rifle, and the big cat seemed to turn completely over in the air.

But the momentum of the spring was not checked by the bullet which had struck it in the throat. On it came, and Jim yelled:

"Duck boys!"

He had no time to do so himself, so, before he could throw himself to one side, the lion was upon him and the cowboy went down in a heap, the beast, snarling and growling, on top of him. There was a confusion of man and lion, a vision of flying legs, fast-working claws and the sight of a yellow body in convulsions.

"Fire at the lion!" yelled Jack.

"Don't! You might shoot Jim!" exclaimed Nat.

"Get your knives out!" cried John, drawing his own blade.

But they were not needed. A moment later the big cat rolled over off Jim, and, in a few seconds the cowboy rose from the ground, covered with dirt and blood, but, apparently unhurt.

"Did he bite you?" asked Jack,

"He was dead when he landed on me," said Jim. "It was only the dying struggle. Might have clawed me up a bit, but not much."

In fact the cowboy had several long and deep scratches on his hands and legs, where his heavy trousers had been cut through by the terrible claws. Aside from that he was not hurt.

"Good thing I had a load in my gun," he remarked, as he threw out the empty sh.e.l.l and fired a bullet through the head of the lion to make sure it was dead.

"I guess the other one's done for," said Jack, as he looked toward where the lioness had stood.

"I'd hope so, with three of you firin' at her," spoke Jim as he went over to a little spring and washed some of the dirt and blood from him.

"This isn't half bad," spoke Nat. "I wish some of the fellows at Washington Hall could see us now."

"Maybe they would think we were some pumpkins," put in Jack.

"Oh we'll do better than this," said John. "We want to get one apiece, instead of a third each."

"That's so," admitted Jack and Nat.

It was decided they had enjoyed sport enough for one day, so they went back to their little camp and prepared to spend the night. In the morning they journeyed to the small ranch house and some of the cowboys went for the dead lions and skinned them. The boys were a little anxious as to who would have the trophies, but there was no need of this, as, in the next two days three more of the lions were slain. Jack and John each bowled over one, not so very large, to be sure, but enough to make the lads feel several inches taller. Nat had poor luck, missing two fine chances. However, he was not discouraged.

The boys were congratulated on all sides when they got back to Mr.

Kent's house, even the oldest plainsman admitting they had not done so bad for tenderfeet.

Aside from long rides, in which they learned to be more proficient on horses, the boys did little for the week following the hunt. Jack made anxious inquiries every day after the condition of Peter Lantry, hoping the aged man might have regained his senses enough to give directions for finding Mr. Ranger's cabin. But the fever still held the old miner (for such his delirious talk showed him to have been) a captive, and locked his brain in an impenetrable mantle.

"It's hard to sit around and do nothing, when you know your father may need you," Jack said, one day. "I'm going to ask Mr. Kent if I can't go myself, alone, and find the cabin. I believe I could, from Mr. Tevis's directions."

"What do you want to go alone for?" asked Nat. "Why can't John and I go along?"

"I didn't want to take you on a dangerous trip," Jack replied.

"Well, I guess you'd find it hard to leave us behind," John put in.

"Come on, let's ask if we can't go."

At first Mr. Kent would not hear of it. But the boys pleaded so hard, and Jack seemed to feel so badly at the delay, that Mr. Kent gave in, He admitted there was no telling when Mr. Lantry would recover enough to give directions, and it would certainly be a very long time before he would be able to guide a party to the scene.

So it was arranged that the three boys were to make the hundred mile trip to Golden Glow. It was not as venturesome as it sounded. They had come west in safety, and gone through a number of perils with credit to themselves. Then, too, it was in summer, and camping in the open was fun, more than anything else. It was true the trail was a hard one, but, by going a roundabout way, horses could be used for the greater distance. Mr. Kent wanted to send Rattlesnake Jim with the boys, but they would not hear of it.

"I guess we can look out for ourselves," said Jack. "If we can't, it's time we learned."

Three days later saw them on the trail. They had st.u.r.dy horses, used to mountain roads, a camping outfit and provisions that would last them two weeks, with plenty of ammunition, and each one carried a fine rifle.

They rode along for four days, camping at night in such sheltered places as they could find. The morning of the fifth day they awoke to find the mountain shrouded in fog.

"That shan't delay us," exclaimed Jack, though it was hard to see a rod ahead of the horse's nose. "We have a compa.s.s and we can follow the general direction Mr. Tevis gave us."

So they traveled on after breakfast, though it was dreary riding.

They plodded on for mile after mile in silence. All at once Jack, who was ahead exclaimed:

"Doesn't that tree look familiar?"

He pointed to one that had been struck by lightning, and which had a peculiar spiral white mark running down the trunk. It was close to the edge of the trail.