The Pony Rider Boys in Alaska

Chapter 10

Stacy did not speak of his suspicions that night, but on the following morning he was up earlier than the others, looking here and there about the camp. He was unusually silent at breakfast time, but Ned Rector on the contrary had a great deal to say.

“Somebody was in this camp again last night. I don’t know what he was trying to do, but whatever it was, he made a good start,” said Ned.

“Perhaps it was the work of Indians,” suggested Walter.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” replied the Professor dryly.

“Perhaps,” agreed Tad, “the Indian was after another ham and thought he had hold of one when he got Chunky.”

“You keep on and I’ll say something!” snorted the fat boy.

“I have been looking at that red mark on my ankle,” continued Ned. “It was a rope that did the business. How do you suppose they ever managed to tie it to our ankles without waking us up?”

“I thought you did wake up,” answered Tad with twinkling eyes.

“We did afterwards, but I don’t understand it at all. Didn’t you hear anything, Tad?”

“If I remember rightly I heard two boys yelling like frightened babies.”

Once again Chunky snorted, but held his peace. Matters were rapidly nearing a crisis. Chunky knew that he had played a mean trick on Tad by tying a string to the provision line and giving it a jerk to wake his companion up, thus making him believe someone was at the provisions. He suspected that the trick had been turned on him, but he wasn’t quite sure. Stacy was covertly watching every expression on the face of Tad Butler, every word that was uttered, Tad in the meantime continuing to worry his fat companion. The latter stood it as long as possible. Then he arose rather hastily and strode around to the rear of the tent, returning a moment later with a rope in his hand.

Tad recognized it instantly.

“Here, if you want to know what got hold of us last night. Look at this!” exclaimed Chunky.

“What is it?” questioned Rector.

"It's a rope. Don’t you know a rope when you see one? It is the same rope that dragged us from the tent by our ankles last night. Oh, this is a fine outfit!” jeered Chunky.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“Ah!” breathed the Professor. “I begin to see a light.”

“So did we,” returned Stacy. “But it wasn’t so very light that you could notice it particularly.”

Ned started up, his face flushing violently.

“Do you mean to tell me that one of our outfit dragged you and me out by the heels last night?” he demanded.

“Yes!”

“Who did it?” cried Rector angrily. “I can thrash the fellow who did that. Who is he, I say?”

“Well, I may be wrong, but from the look of his face, I should say that Tad Butler knows something about the affair. Mind you, I’m not saying he did it, but I reckon he knows the man who did,” observed Stacy.

“Tad Butler, did you do that?” demanded Ned.

“Stacy seems to think I did.”

“Then I’ve nothing more to say.”

“I–I thought you were going to whale the fellow who did it,” reminded Stacy.

“I reckon I’ve changed my mind,” muttered Ned. “I’ll have a talk with Tad later, though.”

“No time like the present,” laughed Butler.

“Young gentlemen, enough of this. I am amazed at you, Tad,” rebuked Professor Zepplin.

“Tell them the rest, Stacy,” nodded Tad.

The fat boy hung his head.

“Maybe I was to blame, after all. I reckon Tad was after me, not Ned,” admitted Stacy.

“What had you done?” questioned the Professor with a poor attempt at sternness.

“I–I tied a string to the provision line. You know Tad had a line tied to it with one end around his wrist so that he would know if an intruder began to interfere with the provisions?”

“Yes. Go on.”

“Well, as I told you, I tied another string to the rope. After Tad got to sleep I pulled the rope. He went out to see what had done it. I guess he didn’t find it, for he went out several times after that. Oh, I made him dance a merry dance,” chuckled Stacy. “By and by I went to sleep. That was the last I knew until I found myself sliding out of the tent on my back.”

Everyone shouted. Stacy’s droll way of telling the story was too much for them.

“So that was the way of it, eh?” questioned Ned.

“So Stacy says,” nodded Butler.

“And you didn’t mean to drag me out?”

“No; the fellow who did the dragging must have gotten hold of the wrong foot,” replied Butler.

“Then I forgive you. I would endure almost anything for the sake of seeing Chunky get the worst of it.”

“Well, I like that!” shouted the fat boy. “I’m glad that you, too, got some of the worst of it. Why didn’t you tie the rope around his neck while you were about it, Tad, and make a thorough job of it?”

Nevertheless, Stacy was set upon having his revenge on Tad, even though he was himself to blame for the trick that had been played on him. The sun shone over the camp of the Pony Rider Boys a few hours later, and the rough hike was again taken up. It was the middle of the fifth day after the roping experience when the boys first caught sight of Yakutat Bay. Huge cakes of floating ice were being thrown up into the air by the strong gale that swept in from the Pacific, the whitened ice in strong contrast with the black sands of the beach.

Towering above it all, nearly five miles in the air, stood Mt. St. Elias glistening in the mid-day sun. Rushing streams roared down the sides of the mountain, thundering through deep gorges cut into the rocks through perhaps thousands of years of wear. It was a tremendous spectacle, exceeding in impressiveness anything the boys had ever looked upon.

At their feet lay the wreck of the rude cabins of the early Thlinkit Indians. There was no sign of any other village. The masts of a few small schooners were visible on the southern side of the bay. It was in this part of the waters that ships came to anchor. Here they were not exposed to the heavy swell from the Pacific, being sheltered by islands on the southern side.

An Indian wrapped in a gaudy blanket went striding stolidly past the Pony Rider party.

“Will you tell us where the town is?” called Tad.

Without looking at the questioner, the Indian pointed up the hill to the right.

“He means on top of the mountain,” interpreted Stacy.

“No. There is a trail leading up through the trees,” answered Tad. “But it can’t be much of a settlement.”

“There must be quite a town here,” said the Professor. “I have read that in the year 1796 the Russians established a penal colony here, having erected quite a plant. A city was laid out at the time, though I think I have heard that the penal buildings were burned down. But we shall find out more when we get to it.”

The climb was a stiff one–almost straight up, it seemed to the boys. Three miles of this through a forest-bordered trail brought them to the village.

“This certainly is some town,” laughed Tad.

They saw before them a general store, two or three shops that looked as if they were for the purpose of supplying miners’ outfits, with a few scattering cottages here and there. To the left they could make out the smoke from the new Thlinkit village. Squaws from the latter were sitting about the village street weaving baskets. Such beautiful baskets none of that party ever had seen before. The boys could hardly resist the temptation to buy, but knowing that every pound and every inch of bulk in their packs counted, they contented themselves with admiring the handicraft of the squaws.

Ponies or horses were seldom seen in the Yakutat street, so those of the Pony Rider outfit attracted no little attention. A swarm of Indian children gathered about them, chattering half in English and half in their native language.

The keeper of the general store came out to greet the outfit, scenting some trade, and shook hands with the Professor warmly.

“Anybody’d think the Professor was his long-lost brother,” chuckled Stacy.

A bevy of dark-eyed squaws surrounded the Professor. In several instances papooses were strapped to their backs, the youngsters looking as if they did not enjoy it any too well.

“Why do they tie them up in splints?” asked Stacy.

“To keep them from getting broken,” answered Rector.

A squaw offered Stacy a pair of beaded moccasins that were gorgeous to his eyes.

“How much?”

“Fife dolee.”

“Eh? I don’t hear very well?”

“Four dolee.”

“I’ll give you a dollar and fifty cents.”

“Two dolee. You take um?”

“You bet I’ll take um. It’s like finding moccasins to get them for that price.”

“You will have to carry them yourself, you know,” warned Tad.

“What do you think I’m going to do with those joy shoes?” demanded the fat boy.

“I supposed you intended to wear them when sitting by the fireside.”

“Like the squaw, you’ve got another guess coming. I’m going to send those moccasins to my aunt in Chillicothe.”

This was an unusual thing to do. Stacy usually thought of himself, but seldom of others. Tad called to the other boys to tell them the news. They examined the moccasins gravely.

At this juncture the Professor beckoned to the boys to come into the store, which they did after hastily staking down their stock.

“This gentleman says he thinks he can get us a guide,” announced the Professor. “I tell him we must have a reliable one, for we know absolutely nothing about the country from here on.”

“Black or white?” questioned Stacy.

“Oh, black, of course. There are no white guides up here. I think this one was out with a government surveying party once,” said the store-keeper.

“He should do very well, then,” nodded the Professor, well pleased.

“What’s good enough for our Uncle Sam surely should be good enough for us,” agreed Ned Rector. “What do you say, Chunky?”

“I decline to commit myself. I’ve been taken in on guides before this. Trot out your guide and, after I’ve tried him out, I’ll tell you what I think of him. In buying guides I follow the same tactics that Tad Butler does in purchasing horses.”

“Oh, you do, eh?” jeered Ned.

“Always.”

“Then be sure you examine this fellow’s legs to make certain that they are sound. Feel his ankles that there is neither spavin nor ringbone, then open his mouth and look at his teeth to be sure that he isn’t lying to you,” advised Tad dryly.

“After which, one Stacy Brown will be reduced to the condition that he deserves,” laughed Ned.

“What condition?” demanded the fat boy.

“Use your imagination.”

“It isn’t working to-day. I’m too hungry.”

“Plenty of crackers and cheese and other things here,” said Tad. “I am going to have some. Isn’t that ‘pop’ up there, sir?” he asked the proprietor.

“Yes; have some?”

“What flavors have you?”

“Sarsaparilla and ginger ale.”

“Give me both,” interjected Stacy. “I’ll have a pound of that cheese and about a peck of crackers. Got anything else?”

“Ginger snaps?”

“Hooray! Just like being in Chillicothe, isn’t it?” Stacy filched a hard cracker and slipped it into the mouth of a papoose on its mother’s back.

The squaw did not observe the action, but one of her sister squaws muttered something, whereat the mother snatched the cracker from the mouth of her young hopeful, cast the cracker on the floor and put her moccasined foot on it. She launched into a volley in her own language, directed at Chunky.

“That’s all right, madam. Roast me all you wish. I don’t care how much you insult me so long as I don’t understand a word you are saying.”

“Do you wish the cheese done up?” asked the proprietor.

“Done up? Certainly not. I’ll attend to the doing up myself.” Chunky took a large bite, then banged the end of the pop bottle against the counter to open the bottle. The stuff was highly charged, and a good quantity of it struck Ned Rector in the eye. Stacy waved the bottle at arm’s length before placing it to his mouth. The charge went over his shoulder and soaked the Professor’s whiskers before the fat boy succeeded in steering the mouth of the bottle safely to his lips.

Professor Zepplin sputtered, Ned Rector threatened, but the fat boy ate and drank, regardless of the disturbance he had caused.

“If you open any more of that stuff be good enough to go outdoors to do so,” advised the Professor.

“I wuz thinking ob doig it in here and shooting a papoose with some ginger ale,” answered Stacy thickly.

“You will keep on till you have those squaws pulling your hair, Chunky,” warned Butler.

The other boys were by this time eating cheese, crackers and ginger snaps. The proprietor had sent one of the Indian children to fetch the man he had recommended as a guide, and by the time the Pony Rider Boys had satisfied their appetites, the guide entered the store and stood waiting to be recognized.

The boys laughed when they saw him.