"Dog-gone it!--no! Hyar they all are, an' nary one wet."
"Jim, can you smell powder?" I asked.
"No. Thet shore must have been a bustin' log," replied Jim.
"That was a steam explosion, my man," I replied. "Somebody put a sealed fruit-can in the fire, or buried a jar of water in the ashes."
No more was said on the moment, but later, when Hal and Jim were tying up the dogs, Ken broke out emphatically:
"Another job of the kid's! Whatever it was it certainly got me. I was never so scared in my life. Hiram, isn't there any way we can scare Hal? It's got to be done."
"Wal, youngster, I'll think on it."
"Let's play a trick on Hal, give him a dose of his own medicine. Hiram, it's a wonder to me he hasn't done something to you and Dick. He will yet."
"Wal, youngster, I reckon you'll find Leslie an' me accomplices in any reasonable trick on thet thar lad."
"It'll be great...But what he'll do to us, if he ever finds it out, will be a-plenty."
By this time Ken seemed obsessed with his idea, yet all the while he showed a strange half-reluctance, as if he bore in mind Hal's remarkable powers of retaliation.
"But how?" he asked. "Can we coax Jim into the scheme?"
"Leave that to me, Ken," I said. "Jim would fall victim to any fun. Now, we'll get Jim to fire Hal out of his bed, and we'll all refuse to take him in ours on some pretext or other. Then the Navajo will naturally gravitate to Hal, and we'll find some way to scare him."
Next morning I found a favorable opportunity, wherein I approached Jim with my proposition and won him over easily. He had weakness of that sort.
We hunted that day, and at supper Jim groaned and took as much trouble in sitting down as if his leg was in splints.
"What's wrong with you?" inquired Hiram, with extraordinary sympathy.
"It's my leg."
"Wal?"
"You know I told you. It's thet place where Hal has been kickin' me every night in his sleep."
"Wha--at?" stammered Hal. His eyes opened wide.
"Lad, I'm sorry to hey to hurt your feelin's," replied Jim, gently. "But I've shore stood it as long as I could. You're one of them nightmare sleepers, an' when you git after anythin', or anythin' gits after you, then you kick. I never seen a broncho thet could hold a candle to you. No matter how you lay, on your side or back or belly, you can kick, an' allus in the same place. I was throwed From a horse once an' hurt this leg, an' right there's where you've been kickin' me."
Hal looked as if he wanted to cry. He seemed unmistakably, genuinely ashamed of himself.
"Oh, Jim, I know I have crazy dreams and thrash about in my sleep. Why--why didn't you kick back--kick me out of bed?"
"Shore, lad, you needn't feel bad about it. I ain't blamin' you. I realize we're havin' some pretty warm times after these cougars, enough to make any feller hey nightmares."
"I won't trouble you again that way," said Hal, earnestly. "I'll sleep somewhere else...Hiram, can I come in your tent--way over on one side, far from you?"
"Youngster, I wish you hedn't asked me," replied Hiram, in apparent distress. "Fer I've got to refuse. I'm gittin' old, Hal, an' I must hey my rest. You'd keep me awake."
Pride and mortification held Hal back from further appeal. He finished his supper without another word. Then he took the axe and cutting down some small pines began to make a shack. Navvy got so interested that he offered to help, and to our great delight, when the shack was completed Hal pointed to it and asked the Indian to share it with him.
The next day we had some strenuous chases; the hounds split on fresh trails, and we were separated from one another. One by one we got back to camp, and it was a mooted question which were the most worn out, hunters or hounds. It was about dark when Jim came riding in.
"Fellers, you shore missed the wind-up," he said, throwing the skin of a cougar on the ground.
"Wal, dog-gone it, you hed to kill one!" exclaimed Hiram.
"Shore. Curley and Tan treed thet one, an' I yelled fer you till I lost my
"Jim, can you smell powder?" I asked.
"No. Thet shore must have been a bustin' log," replied Jim.
"That was a steam explosion, my man," I replied. "Somebody put a sealed fruit-can in the fire, or buried a jar of water in the ashes."
No more was said on the moment, but later, when Hal and Jim were tying up the dogs, Ken broke out emphatically:
"Another job of the kid's! Whatever it was it certainly got me. I was never so scared in my life. Hiram, isn't there any way we can scare Hal? It's got to be done."
"Wal, youngster, I'll think on it."
"Let's play a trick on Hal, give him a dose of his own medicine. Hiram, it's a wonder to me he hasn't done something to you and Dick. He will yet."
"Wal, youngster, I reckon you'll find Leslie an' me accomplices in any reasonable trick on thet thar lad."
"It'll be great...But what he'll do to us, if he ever finds it out, will be a-plenty."
By this time Ken seemed obsessed with his idea, yet all the while he showed a strange half-reluctance, as if he bore in mind Hal's remarkable powers of retaliation.
"But how?" he asked. "Can we coax Jim into the scheme?"
"Leave that to me, Ken," I said. "Jim would fall victim to any fun. Now, we'll get Jim to fire Hal out of his bed, and we'll all refuse to take him in ours on some pretext or other. Then the Navajo will naturally gravitate to Hal, and we'll find some way to scare him."
Next morning I found a favorable opportunity, wherein I approached Jim with my proposition and won him over easily. He had weakness of that sort.
We hunted that day, and at supper Jim groaned and took as much trouble in sitting down as if his leg was in splints.
"What's wrong with you?" inquired Hiram, with extraordinary sympathy.
"It's my leg."
"Wal?"
"You know I told you. It's thet place where Hal has been kickin' me every night in his sleep."
"Wha--at?" stammered Hal. His eyes opened wide.
"Lad, I'm sorry to hey to hurt your feelin's," replied Jim, gently. "But I've shore stood it as long as I could. You're one of them nightmare sleepers, an' when you git after anythin', or anythin' gits after you, then you kick. I never seen a broncho thet could hold a candle to you. No matter how you lay, on your side or back or belly, you can kick, an' allus in the same place. I was throwed From a horse once an' hurt this leg, an' right there's where you've been kickin' me."
Hal looked as if he wanted to cry. He seemed unmistakably, genuinely ashamed of himself.
"Oh, Jim, I know I have crazy dreams and thrash about in my sleep. Why--why didn't you kick back--kick me out of bed?"
"Shore, lad, you needn't feel bad about it. I ain't blamin' you. I realize we're havin' some pretty warm times after these cougars, enough to make any feller hey nightmares."
"I won't trouble you again that way," said Hal, earnestly. "I'll sleep somewhere else...Hiram, can I come in your tent--way over on one side, far from you?"
"Youngster, I wish you hedn't asked me," replied Hiram, in apparent distress. "Fer I've got to refuse. I'm gittin' old, Hal, an' I must hey my rest. You'd keep me awake."
Pride and mortification held Hal back from further appeal. He finished his supper without another word. Then he took the axe and cutting down some small pines began to make a shack. Navvy got so interested that he offered to help, and to our great delight, when the shack was completed Hal pointed to it and asked the Indian to share it with him.
The next day we had some strenuous chases; the hounds split on fresh trails, and we were separated from one another. One by one we got back to camp, and it was a mooted question which were the most worn out, hunters or hounds. It was about dark when Jim came riding in.
"Fellers, you shore missed the wind-up," he said, throwing the skin of a cougar on the ground.
"Wal, dog-gone it, you hed to kill one!" exclaimed Hiram.
"Shore. Curley and Tan treed thet one, an' I yelled fer you till I lost my
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