Two Boys in Wyoming, Edward Sylvester Ellis [best love novels of all time .txt] 📗

in November. It is very kind in the doctor to consent to the arrangement. I hope you appreciate it, sir."

"I thank him very much," said Jack, looking toward the physician, who just then drew his hand across his mouth to suppress the smile that was tugging at the corners.

"Of course," continued Mr. Dudley, still with the manner of a philosopher, "in visiting such a section, inhabited by large and fierce game, you must take every precaution. I shall furnish each of you with a repeating Winchester, a revolver, and such other articles as may be necessary. We will now excuse you, with the understanding that if any objections occur to either, you will let us know at once, so that you may continue your studies, while I engage other parties to attend to this business."

"I'll think it over," replied Jack, tremulous with delight.

And then he and his chum withdrew and went up-stairs again to the room of Fred Greenwood, who hastily closed the door. The next instant they were hugging each other, and dancing about as if their senses had forsaken them; and indeed it may be said that for a brief while such was the fact.

"Fred," said the happy Jack, when there was a lull in the excitement, "we must fix upon a name for ourselves."

"I thought our parents attended to that a good many years ago."

"You know what I mean; we need some title that will distinguish us from all other young gentlemen of our acquaintance. How does 'W. R.' strike you?"

"'W. R.'? What does that mean?"

"The 'Wyoming Rangers;' that sounds rather high-toned."

Fred shook his head.

"We are not going West to reduce the aboriginal population; I hope we shall have no trouble with the red men. When we get among the people who have always lived there, such a title will make us ridiculous, for it smacks of conceit; it assumes too much."

"Suppose _you_ suggest something?"

"Let's call ourselves the 'V. W. W.'; that surely will be appropriate."

"What do those letters mean?"

"The 'Verdant Wanderers of Wyoming;' that is precisely what we shall be."

Jack Dudley laughed, and at first protested, but finally agreed to accept the title as fitting and appropriate, and it was so ordered.


CHAPTER II.

RIDING NORTHWARD.

And so it came about that on a sharp, crisp day early in the month of October, two sturdy youths left the Union Pacific train at Fort Steele, which is situated in a broad depression between two divisions of the Wind River Mountains, themselves forming a part of the vast Rocky Mountain chain, which, under different names, stretches along the western portion of the two continents from the Arctic Ocean on the north to the extreme southern end of South America.

Like the sensible youths they were, Jack Dudley and Fred Greenwood had made the fullest preparation possible for the experience which was destined to prove tenfold more eventful than either anticipated. Mr. Dudley, in accordance with his promise, had presented each with a fine repeating Winchester rifle, an excellent revolver, an abundant supply of cartridges, and various knick-knacks which the hunter is sure to find are more in the nature of necessities than luxuries.

They had tough corduroy suits, a material which, as everyone knows, wears like leather, though it is unpopular in the West because of its unpleasant odor when wet. From the knees downward the lower part of the legs were protected by strong leathern leggings, and the shoes were made for wear rather than display. The coats were rather short and gathered at the waists by a belt, while beneath the garment it was intended to wear the cartridge-belt. The revolver rested in a sheath, instead of being thrust into a trouser's-pocket at the hip, while their hats suggested the sombrero pattern, so popular among cowboys and cattlemen. The brim was broad and stiff, so that it was not liable to bother their vision when the wind was blowing, and it could be depended upon to protect the eyes and face from the sun and rain. Their whole outfit, in short, was strong, comfortable and serviceable.

The two were generously furnished with money, while Mr. Dudley arranged with a banker at Laramie City to furnish the boys with whatever funds they might need through accident or robbery. They were going into a region where there were many lawless characters, and everything was done to provide against all possible contingencies.

Their extra clothing and articles were contained in a couple of valises, which were put off the train upon the lonely platform at Fort Steele. But while this marked the farthest distance they could travel by rail, a long ride still confronted them before reaching the ranch, which was almost half-way between the railroad and the Big Horn Mountains to the northeast. Several streams had to be crossed, the country in many places was rough, and there was no stage line to help them. All this, however, had been discounted before the boys left the city of Chicago, and what they encountered was only what was expected, and only that for which they were prepared.

Word having been sent in advance of their expected arrival, the first act of the youths was to look around for the man or men who were to meet and conduct them to the ranch. A few people were moving about the long, low platform, several in the uniform of United States infantry and cavalry, while a couple of Indians in blankets, untidy and sullen, surveyed them with scowls. Few passengers were in the habit of leaving the train at this point, so that some curiosity on the part of the loungers was natural. Perhaps the agent at the station suspected them of being runaways whose heads had been turned by stories of wild adventure, and who had set out to annihilate the aborigines of the West; but if such a fancy came to the man, it must have vanished when he noticed their intelligent appearance and the completeness of their outfit. Boys who start on such whimsical careers are never rightly prepared, and have no conception of the absurdity of their schemes until it is forced upon them by sad and woeful experience.

"Are you looking for any one?" asked the agent; respectfully.

"Yes, sir," replied Jack Dudley; "we are on our way to a ranch which lies to the eastward of Camp Brown, not far from Wind River."

"May I ask your errand thither?"

"My father is part owner of the ranch, and we wish to visit it for a few weeks."

"Ah, you are the young men that Hank Hazletine was asking about yesterday. He has charge of Bowman's ranch."

"That's the place. What has become of Mr. Hazletine?"

"I think he is over at the fort, and will soon be here. He brought a couple of horses for you to ride. Ah, here he comes now."

The boys saw the man at the same moment. He was walking rapidly from the direction of the fort, and looking curiously at the youths, who surveyed him with interest as he approached. He was full-bearded, tall, and as straight as an arrow, dressed in cowboy costume, and the picture of rugged strength and activity. His manner was that of a man who, having made a mistake as to the hour of the arrival of the train, was doing his best to make up for lost time.

Stepping upon the long, low platform, he walked toward the lads, his Winchester in his left hand, while he extended his right in salutation.

"Howdy?" he said, heartily, as he took the hand of Fred Greenwood, who advanced several paces to meet him. "I reckon you're the younkers I'm waiting for."

"If you are Hank Hazletine, you are the man."

"That's the name I gin'rally go by; which one of you is Jack Dudley?"

"I am," replied that young gentleman.

"Then t'other one is Fred Greenwood, eh?" he asked, turning toward the younger.

"You have our names right."

"Glad to know it; I got your letter and looked for you yesterday; have been loafing 'round here since then."

"We were not sure of the exact time of our arrival and missed it by twenty-four hours," said Jack; "I hope it caused you no inconvenience."

"Not at all--not at all. Wal, I s'pose you're ready to start for the ranch, younkers?"

"We are at your disposal; we have quite a long ride before us."

"We have; it'll take us two or three days to git there, if all goes well."

"Suppose all doesn't go well?" remarked Fred.

"We shall be longer on the road; and if it goes too bad we'll never git there; but I ain't looking for anything like that. Where's your baggage?"

Jack pointed to the two plump valises lying on the platform, near the little building.

"That and what we have on us and in our hands make up our worldly possessions."

"That's good," said Hazletine. "I was afeard you might bring a load of trunks, which we'd had a purty time getting to the ranch; but there won't be any trouble in managing them; I'll be right back."

He turned away, and soon reappeared, mounted on a fine, wiry pony, and leading on either side a tough little animal, saddled and bridled and ready for the boys.

"There ain't any better animals in Wyoming or Colorado," he explained; "they can travel fast and fur a long time. We'll strap on that stuff and be off."

There was no trouble in securing the baggage to the rear of the saddles, when Jack and Fred swung themselves upon the backs of the ponies, adjusted their Winchesters across the saddles in front, following the suggestions of Hazletine, and announced themselves ready to set out on the long ride northward. The animals struck into an easy canter, and a few minutes later all signs of civilization were left behind them.

The boys were in buoyant spirits. There was just enough coolness in the air to make the exercise invigorating. Here and there a few snowy flecks dotted the blue sky, but the sun shone with undimmed splendor, the warmth slightly increasing as the orb climbed the heavens. To the northward the undulating plain was unbroken by hill or stream, so far as the eye could note, while to the eastward the prospect was similar, though they knew that the North Platte curved over in that direction, and, after winding around the upper end of the Laramie Mountains, joined the main stream far over in Nebraska.

To the westward the prospect was romantic and awe-inspiring. The Wind River range towered far up in the sky in rugged grandeur, following a course almost parallel with their own, though gradually trending more to the left, in the direction of Yellowstone Park. The snow-crowned peaks looked like vast banks of clouds in the sky, while the craggy portions below the frost-line were mellowed by the distance and softly tinted in the clear, crystalline atmosphere. The mountains formed a grand background to the picture which more closely environed them.

As the three galloped easily forward they kept nearly abreast, with the ranchman between them. He was in a pleasant mood, and seemed to have formed a fancy for the youths, who felt a natural admiration for the big, muscular veteran of the plains and mountains.

"Yes," said he, in answer to their inquiries; "I've spent all my life as a cattleman, cowboy, hunter or trapper. I left the States with my parents, when a small younker, with