Part 2 (2/2)

”Yes, I've got it,” answered Rob.

”Very well--you're the off-side packer, for it takes two to pack a horse. Now watch closely, all of you, at what comes next. You see Rob has the hook in his hand and I have the rest of the rope in my hand.

Now I double the rope and throw it over the top of the pack to Rob, and he hooks the bight of the doubled rope over the cinch-hook. Got that all right now?”

”Yes, sir,” said Rob, ”I've got it hooked. That's easy so far.”

”Well, now it isn't going to be quite so easy. I've known lots of intelligent men who never could get this thing straight in their heads at all. Now watch how I pull this doubled rope toward me across the top of the pack. The long end, on the left, is free, and I tighten the right-hand leg of the rope. Now, you see I pa.s.s the left-hand leg under the right-hand in another long loop, or bight--this way, see.

Now I can enlarge that loop by pulling some of the free end of the rope through, can't I? I leave it all loose, because we don't pull things up until we get the whole hitch thrown and set.

”Now I pull my big loose loop out toward the rear of the pack on my side. And I just twist the loop over, side for side, until you see it bind or twist in the middle on top the pack. That's the important thing. Now I run the right-hand side of my loop on the right-hand lower corner of my side pack. Then I carry it under the bottom of the side pack and around the lower corner in front. I just tighten it up a little, as I do this.

”Now, Rob, it's your turn. You take hold of the free end of the rope which I have tossed over to you. It runs from the twist on top of the pack to your left-hand lower corner, and under your side pack and up to me around your right-hand lower corner.

”Now you might say that your diamond is laid, and that you are ready to cinch up. The ropes will bind first where they cross on top, and tighten all the way back to the end of the cinch-hook on the off side.

When everything is made fast, the last end of the rope--which, by the way, we will have to untie from our horse's neck--comes over, finishes the diamond hitch, and is made fast at my cinch-ring on the near side.

We begin at the cinch-hook and finish at the cinch-ring, on the other side.

”Now then, we begin to cinch. I begin when you call 'cinch!' That means that you have put your foot into old Billy and pulled the first leg of the rope up right in the cinch-hook. I gather up your slack and I tighten it all the way around the corners of my pack and back over the top. It is now up to you to cinch again, with your foot in the pack, as I did here just a little. That tightens all the slack clear to your corners. Now when your rope comes back to me for the last tightening I haul it hard as I can and tie off at my cinch-ring. I use a knot which I can jerk loose easily if I want to tighten or loosen the pack on the trail. So, there you are, all set.” And Uncle d.i.c.k slapped old Billy on the hip as he stood groaning in great pretense of suffering, at which old Billy walked forward a few steps and stood still, awaiting the next victim in the train.

”That's tight as a drum,” said Jesse, pus.h.i.+ng at the loaded packs.

”Humph, you mean that old Billy's tight as a drum,” said Uncle d.i.c.k.

”An old pack-horse will groan as though you were killing him, and will blow up like a horned toad. Then maybe a half-hour later on the trail all his ropes will be as loose as if he had lost a year's growth.

We'll have to go over all these packs just before we start down that bank, or we may lose some of them. That's why we fastened the last end of the hitch with a loop easy to pull out.

”A good pack-master,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, ”is worth as much as a colonel in an army. He never has sore-backed horses, because he makes up his packs well and keeps them tight. A s.h.i.+fting, wabbling pack is bad for the horse. Why, you can pack almost anything on a horse--they even took pianos on slings between four pack-horses in some of the mountain mining-camps in Montana. And what do you suppose was the hardest thing the old pack-train men had to carry in those days?”

”I don't know,” said Rob, curiously. ”What was it?”

”Quicksilver. That made more sore backs than anything else. They carried it in flasks, and the jar or blow of the heavy liquid s.h.i.+fting from side to side was bad on the horses. Finally they used to nest these iron flasks in sideboards, which they could lash tight to the saddles. This kept the slos.h.i.+ng of the quicksilver from hurting the horses so much. Oh, they had all sorts of curious ways of packing curious things. But a good pack-train would carry almost anything, from a cook-stove to a chandelier, and not break either. They used different hitches, but the one I have showed you is about as simple and useful as any. Well, drive up the next horse now, Jess.”

Thus, one after another, they finished loading up their pack-train; and, Moise having put his camp outfit and his personal equipment on the last horse, they stood ready for the trail.

”It'll be pretty bad getting down here,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, ”so I'll go ahead with old Betsy. All you others had better stay behind and drive the loose horses down over the bank. Don't let them break back on the trail. Are you ready? Just watch how I take it, and don't be afraid.”

So saying, setting spurs to his saddle-pony and pulling on the lariat of old Betsy, Uncle d.i.c.k disappeared over the edge of the steep bank.

His hardy little animal clapped its feet close together and almost slid down the long muddy incline. Old Betsy calmly followed, and by the time the first horse was at the bottom of the deep and narrow valley the boys with much shouting and urging had started others of the band down the incline also. Uncle d.i.c.k boldly plunged into the stream, which was not very wide or very deep at that time. By the time he was struggling up the opposite bank the last of the train, followed by the young trailers, was making its way down the first slope. One by one, the horses splashed methodically across the little stream and began the long and slow ascent up the farther side, a climb of more than a hundred and fifty feet, which Uncle d.i.c.k made easier by two or three zigzags, turning at points where little trees made it possible.

So at last they all found themselves on the farther side of the steep Wolf Creek valley.

”Hurrah!” said John, pulling off his cap and waving it about his head as he rode up. ”That was fine, wasn't it? I was a good deal scared about it, but we got through all right.”

”And I call it mighty well done for you young men,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, approvingly. ”We've got every pack with us, and now we'll see if any of them need tightening up. We'll not have many crossings worse than this, I'm thinking. For two or three days we'll be among these steep valleys, where the rivers have cut regular troughs, mostly north and south. But I don't think there will be any worse muskeg than we've had already.”

”Well,” said Rob, ”this wasn't nearly as bad as the Pembina crossing back yonder.”

<script>