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Pluck on the Long Trail

Chapter 9 JIM BRIDGER ON THE TRAIL

Word Count: 3219    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

but I wanted to get up where I could see. The top was grass

etching on either side of it. But between Pilot Peak and me there lay a big country of heavy timber. Yes, in eve

in on our left, as we sat, and had probably gone along toward our right. I tried to remember which way the

ight to left, and so the man probably had made toward the west. It was a good thin

ng. And I was hungry and didn't have a thing to eat, because when the gang had captured us they had taken our bread and chocolate, along with our matc

he was paying for it. Now if he (that was I, you know) only could get back that message, and t

ace of trot and walk mixed. This took me along the top of the hill, to a draw or little valley that cut through. The draw was thick with spruces and pines and was

might have used this trail but although I edged and edged, keeping right according to the sun, I didn't strike that stream. Up and down and up again, through the trees and through the open places I toiled and sweated; and every tim

mbed to the top of a bunch of granite there, the world was all turned around. Pilot Peak had changed shape and was behind me when it ought to have been before. West was west, because t

it. It was the range that we Scouts must cross, if ever we got to it. But between me and the range lay miles of rolling timber, and all about below me lay the timber, with here and there bare rocky points sticking up like the tips of breakers in an ocean and here and

all tangled up in the timber and brush and be in a bad fix. Up here it was dry and open and the rocks would shelter me fr

was pretty good experience, to be lost without food or drink or match

s seemed to me, I must get a drink and something for supper. I had only that one arrow to depend on, for game, and if I waited m

eenest it seemed a long way. Then I had a clue. I saw a flock of grouse. They sailed out from the timber and across and slanted down into a g

enough to them to shoot sure with my one arrow. If they were blue grouse, that would be bad, too, for blue grouse are sharp. If they were fool grouse, I ought to get one. I ma

end that a starving person should not kill just enough for meat when he had nothing else. I was willing to tell the first ranger or

lonesome time of day for a fellow without fire or food or shelter, in the places where

ross through the aspens I hurried, straight as I could go; and I came out into a grassy, boggy place-a basin where water f

oo. With the aspens and the willows and the seed grasses and the water this was a fine place for grouse. I looked for

suddenly-whirr-rr-rr! With a tremendous noise up flew two grouse, and three more, and lit in the willows right before me. I gue

pper waiting for me, and I had sp

d up the two pieces of my arrow; and then I looked about for a straight reed or willow twig that might do. Something

squatted gradually and gave it time. After it had waggled its head around, it moved a little and began to peck

The grass was clumpy, and once behind a clump I wriggled forward faster. With the clump between me and the grouse I approached as close as I dared.

my clump I braced my toes, and out I sprang and swiped hard, but the grouse fluttered up, just the same, squawking. I hit again, hard and quick, and struck it dow

ok a long drink of water,

nd of course the top of the hill, where my camp was, would be light lon

idn't get in. I gathered a bunch of the grass, and tore my handkerchief with my teeth and mixed some ravelings of that in and tied a nest, with a handle to it. Then I got some of the dr

e, and smelled it; and so I grabbed the nest by its handle and swung it. It caught fire, and in a jiffy I had it on the ground,

wed I went out around the rocks and watched the sunset. It was glorious, and the pink and gold lasted, with the snowy range and old

bottom of the hill I had marked a big branch; and out I hiked and hauled it up. That camp

minding my business, and animals would be minding theirs. So I moved the fire forward a little from the angle of the rocks, and sat in the angle myself. Wow, but it was warm and nice! I couldn'

at I kept nodding and dozing off, and waking with a jerk, and so I pulled the thick part of the branch across the fire and shoved in the scattered ends. Then I wrapped the flags about my neck

ky was close above me, darkness was around about, and behind me was a rustle, rustle, patter

ut of

ack a human being while he slept. Even the smell of a human being will keep most animals off. They're suspicious of him. And I thought of the hundreds of old-time trappers and hunters, and of the prosp

had moved around a quarter of the clock, at least, and the moon was away o

tood and peered about; everywhere below was the dark timber; the moon was about to set behind the sn

I could see the Papoose on the Squaw's back, in the handle of the Great Dipper; so I had Scout's eyesight. In the west was the evening star-Jupiter, I gues

mith, on the trail; and General Ashley and wise Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, planning to escape; and the man who had the message. And here was I, on detail that seemed to have happened, and yet seemed to have been ordered, too. And watchful and steady as the stars, above us

oing until I came to a trail where the beaver man had t

ck; then I hunched into the angle and with the two flags about my shoulders and over my head I

eft town on Monday and we had been out six days. I supposed that I ought to rest on Sunday; but I didn't

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