Part 2 (1/2)
”Well, come ahead; let's roll out,” said Rob. ”All those mosquitoes will come to life when it gets warm.”
They kicked off the blankets, slipped into their clothing, and soon were out in the cool morning air. The spring night had been a dewy one, and all the shrubs and gra.s.ses were very wet.
”h.e.l.lo there, young mans!” they heard a voice exclaim, and saw Moise's head thrust out from beneath his shelter. ”You'll got up pretty early, no?”
”Well, we've got to be moving early,” said Rob. ”Anyway, we beat Uncle d.i.c.k up this morning.”
”That's right,” called out the voice of Uncle d.i.c.k, from his tent, ”but the quicker we get started the quicker we'll get over Wolf Creek.
Now you boys go over there where you hear the gray mare's bell and see if you can round up all the pack-train. You'll learn before long that half the campaign of a pack-train trip is hunting horses in the morning. But they'll stick close where the pea-vine is thick as it is here.”
Our three young Alaskans were used to wet gra.s.s in the morning, and after the first plunge, which wet them to the skin, they did not mind the dew-covered herbage. Soon, shouting and running, they were rounding up the hobbled pack-horses, which, with the usual difficulty, they finally succeeded in driving up close to the camp, where by this time Moise had his fire going. The wilder of the horses they tied to trees near by, but some of the older ones stood unhitched with heads drooping in the chill morning air, as though unhappy, but resigned to their fate. Moise, as usual, rewarded old gray Betsy, the bell-mare, with a lump of sugar as she pa.s.sed by. The others, with the strange instinct of pack-horses to follow a leader, grouped themselves near to the old white mare. The boys put the blankets over the backs of some of the horses while waiting for Moise to finish his breakfast.
”Grub pile!” sung out Moise, after a while; and soon, in the damp morning air, with white mist hanging over the low land about them, they were eating their morning meal.
”Tea for breakfast,” said Rob, smiling. ”Well, I suppose it's all right up here, but in our country we mostly have coffee.”
”We'd have it here if we could get it good,” said Uncle d.i.c.k; ”but, you see, we're a good ways from home, and coffee doesn't keep as well as tea on the trail, besides being much bulkier.”
”Now,” said Jesse, his mouth full of bacon, ”as soon as I get done breakfast I'm going to try that diamond hitch all over again. Moise says the one I did yesterday slipped on him.”
”That's happened to many a good packer,” said Uncle d.i.c.k. ”Sometimes a pack gets snagged in the bush, or all sorts of other things may happen to it. They tell me that a mule will look at two trees and not try to go between them if it sees the pack won't squeeze through, but with some of these northern cayuses I think they try to see how many times they can crowd through between trees and sc.r.a.pe off their packs. But finish your breakfast, young men, and eat plenty, because we're going to have a long trip to-day.”
After they had finished breakfast Rob led up the big roan Billy, which always went next to the gray lead-mare with the mare, and on which they usually packed their blankets and small tent. Billy stood quite calmly, but with his head and ears depressed, as though feeling very sad.
”Ready with those blanket packs now, boys,” called Uncle d.i.c.k; and soon they had them alongside, each bed rolled in its canvas covering.
”Now up with the saddle, Rob.”
Rob threw the sawbuck pack-saddle on top of the padded blanket.
”Cinch tight--that's half in packing, to have the saddle firm.”
And, following Uncle d.i.c.k's instruction, Rob made the cinch as tight as he could.
”Now get on the off side,” said Uncle d.i.c.k; ”and Jesse, you watch us, how we work. You can all help if you want to.
”Are your sling-ropes all ready, Rob?” he inquired next. ”Of course, you see, the sling-ropes simply act like baskets on each side the pack-saddle. They only support, and don't make fast.
”Now then, up with your side packs into your sling-ropes--so--that's all right. Then the top pack on over the saddle, fitting well between the two side packs. Shake them all down so to fit tight together. Now throw the canvas cover over the top, and see that nothing is where it will get busted when you cinch up.
”There, now, that's all right as far as it goes. Next we come to the one part of packing more important than anything else. It is the hitch which holds everything together. We're going to throw the diamond hitch now. Without that, folks couldn't have settled this western country or built railroads over the Rockies, maybe.”
”Who first invented the diamond hitch, Uncle d.i.c.k?” queried Rob.
”n.o.body knows, but it's Spanish, that's sure, and not Canadian. It got up this far north on both sides of the Rockies, brought by miners and packers of all colors and nationalities. Originally it came from Mexico, and it came there from Spain, and perhaps it came to Spain from northern Africa--who knows?--along with the cow-horse itself.”
”But they don't always throw it the same way.”
”No, there are several different throws of the diamond hitch, all of them good. The one I'll show you was showed me by an old _cargador_ in California. Now watch carefully how it is done, for it is easier to see it than to tell about it.
”Now, here we have the long rope which makes the hitch. Some packers throw the loose end out over the back of the horse. We'll just let it point the other way--leave it tied to the horse's neck if you want.
”At the other end of the rope is our cinch-band, and the cinch-hook at the other end of the band or girth. It's made out of wood or horn sometimes. Now, Rob, I am going to pa.s.s the belly-band under the horse. Catch the hook when it comes through. Are you all right now?”