Part 6 (2/2)

d.i.c.k felt the immensity of the problem that lay before him--one that he alone must solve if it were to be solved at all. He and Albert had escaped the ma.s.sacre, but how were they to live in that wilderness of mountains? It was not alone the question of food. How were they to save themselves from death by exposure?

Those twinges in his knees had been warning signs. Oddly enough, his mind now fastened upon one thing. He was longing for the lost buffalo robe, his first great prize. It had been so large and so warm, and the fur was so soft. It would cover both Albert and himself, and keep them warm on the coldest night. If they only had it now! He thought more of that robe just then than he did of the food that they would need in the morning. Cast forth upon a primeval world, this first want occupied his mind to the exclusion of all others.

He returned to the rocky alcove presently, and lay down again.

He was too young and too healthy to remain awake long, despite the full measure of their situation, and soon he slept soundly once more. He was first to awake in the morning, and the beam that struck upon his forehead was golden instead of silver. It was warm, too, and cheerful, and as d.i.c.k parted the branches and looked out, he saw that the sun was riding high. It had been daylight a full three hours at least, but it did not matter. Time was perhaps the only commodity of which he and Albert now had enough and to spare.

He took his coat off Albert and put it on himself, lest Albert might suspect, and then began to sing purposely, with loudness and levity, an old farm rhyme that had been familiar to the boys of his vicinity:

”Wake up, Jake, the day is breaking.

The old cow died, her tail shaking.”

Albert sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stared at d.i.c.k and the wilderness.

”Now look at him!” cried d.i.c.k. ”He thinks he's been called too early. He thinks he'd like to sleep eight or ten hours longer!

Get up, little boy! Yes, it's Christmas morning! Come and see what good old Santa has put in your stocking!”

Albert yawned again and laughed. Really, d.i.c.k was such a cheerful, funny fellow that he always kept one in good spirits.

Good old d.i.c.k!

”Old Santa filled our stockings, all right,” continued d.i.c.k, ”but he was so busy cramming 'em full of great forests and magnificent scenery that he forgot to leave any breakfast for us, and I'm afraid we'll have to hustle for it.”

They started down the mountain slope, and presently they came to a swift little brook, in which they bathed their faces, removing, at the same time, fragments of twigs and dried leaves from their hair.

”That was fine and refres.h.i.+ng,” said d.i.c.k, ”but it doesn't fill my stomach. Al, I could bite a tenpenny nail in half and digest both pieces, too.”

”I don't care for nails,” said Albert, ”but I think I could gnaw down a good-sized sapling. Hold me, d.i.c.k, or I'll be devouring a pine tree.”

Both laughed, and put as good a face on it as they could, but they were frightfully hungry, nevertheless. But they had grown up on farms, and they knew that the woods must contain food of some kind or other. They began a search, and after a while they found wild plums, now ripe, which they ate freely. They then felt stronger and better, but, after all, it was a light diet and they must obtain food of more sustenance.

”There are deer, of course, in this valley,” said d.i.c.k, fingering his rifle, ”and sooner or later we'll get a shot at one of them, but it may be days, and--Al--I've got another plan.”

”What is it?”

”You know, Al, that I can travel pretty fast anywhere. Now those Sioux, after cutting down the train and wiping out all the people, would naturally go away. They'd load themselves up with spoil and scoot. But a lot, scattered here and there, would be left behind. Some of the teams would run away in all the shooting and shouting. And, Al, you and I need those things! We must have them if we are going to live, and we both want to live!”

”Do you mean, d.i.c.k, that you're going back down there in that awful pa.s.s?”

”That's just about what I had on my mind,” replied d.i.c.k cheerfully; ”and now I've got it off, I feel better.”

”But you can never get back alive, d.i.c.k!” exclaimed Albert, his eyes widening in horror at the memory of what they had seen and heard the night before.

”Get back alive? Why, of course I will,” responded d.i.c.k. ”And I'll do more than that, too. You'll see me come galloping up the mountain, bearing hogsheads and barrels of provisions. But, seriously, Al, it must be done. If I don't go, we'll starve to death.”

”Then I'm going, too.”

”No, Al, old boy, you're not strong enough just yet, though you will be soon. There are certainly no Sioux in this little valley, and it would be well if you were to go back up the slope and stay in the pine shelter. It's likely that I'll be gone nearly all day, but don't be worried. You'll have one of the rifles with you, and you know how to use it.”

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