Pluck on the Long Trail | Page 8

set some coffee on, and called Major Henry in, and General
Ashley and Jed Smith took the first spell of two hours; then they were
to wake up Fitzpatrick and me, for the next two hours; and Major
Henry and Kit Carson would watch from two till four, when it would
be growing light. But we didn't have any more trouble that night.
CHAPTER III
THE BIG TROUT
It was mighty hard work, turning out at five o'clock in the morning.
That was regulations, while on the march--to get up at five. The ones
who didn't turn out promptly had to do the dirty work--police the camp,
which is to clean it, you know.
Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand cooked; I helped, by opening packages,
preparing potatoes (if we had them), tending fire, etc.; Major Henry
chopped wood; Kit Carson and little Jed Smith looked after the burros,
Apache and Sally, and scouted in a circle for hostile sign; General
Ashley put the bedding in shape to pack.
But first it was regulations to take a cold wet rub when we were near
water. It made us glow and kept us in good shape. Then we brushed our
teeth and combed our hair. (Note 17.) After breakfast we policed the

camp, and dumped everything into a hole, or burned it, so that we left
the place just about as we had found it. We stamped out the fire, or put
dirt and water on it, of course. Then we packed the burros. General
Ashley, Jed Smith, and Kit Carson packed Sally; Major Henry, Thomas
Fitzpatrick, and I packed Apache. And by six-thirty we were on our
way.
This morning we kept on up Ute Creek. It had its rise in Gray Bull
Basin, at the foot of old Pilot Peak, about forty miles away. We thought
we could make Gray Bull Basin in three days. Ten or twelve miles a
day, with burros, on the trail, up-hill all the way, is about as fast as
Scouts like us can keep going. Beyond Gray Bull we would have to
find our own trail over Pilot Peak.
Everything was fine, this morning. Birds were hopping among the
cedars and spruces, and in some places the ground was red with wild
strawberries. Pine squirrels scolded at us, and we saw two rabbits; but
we didn't stop to shoot them. We had bacon, and could catch trout
higher up the creek. Here were some beaver dams, and around the first
dam lived a big trout that nobody had been able to land. The beaver
dams were famous camping places for parties who could go this far,
and everybody claimed to have hooked the big trout and to have lost
him again. He was a native Rocky Mountain trout, and weighed four
pounds--but he was educated. He wouldn't be caught. He had only one
eye; that was how people knew him.
We didn't count upon that big trout, but we rather counted upon some
smaller ones; and anyway we must hustle on and put those ten miles
behind us before the enemy got in touch with us again. Our business
was to carry that message through, and not to stop and hunt or lose time
over uncalled-for things.
The creek foamed and rushed; its water was amber, as if stained by
pine needles. Sometimes it ran among big bowlders, and sometimes it
was crossed by fallen trees. Thomas Fitzpatrick picked up a beaver
cutting. That was an aspen stick (beavers like aspen and willow bark
best) about as large as your wrist and two feet long. It was green and
the ends were fresh, so there were beavers above us. And it wasn't

water-soaked, so that it could not have been cut and in the water very
long. We were getting close.
We traveled right along, and the country grew rougher. There were
many high bowlders, and we came to a canyon where the creek had cut
between great walls like a crack. There was no use in trying to go
through this canyon; the trail had faded out, and we were about to
oblique off up the hill on our side of the creek, to go around and strike
the creek above the canyon, when Kit Carson saw something caught on
a brush-heap half in the water, at the mouth of the canyon.
It was a chain. He leaned out and took hold of the chain, and drew it in
to shore. On the other end was a trap, and in the trap was a beaver. The
chain was not tied to the brush; it had just caught there, so it must have
been washed down. Then up above somebody was trapping beaver,
which was against the law. The beaver was in pretty bad condition. He
must