CHAPTER XVIII A GOAT HUNT AT DAWN

Stationing the two passengers in the side seats and instructing them to keep their places even if the monoplane should dip, Frank and Phil got away without trouble. Captain Ludington was as pleased as Lord Pelton had been with his first flight. In fact, he had to be reminded that he was supposed to be making a survey of the Hog Back, topographically and for goats. As Jake’s dinner would be late the boys reduced the speed to the lowest possible point, and having reached the hill, the Loon followed the high ground almost halfway to Michel.

Six different herds of goats were observed and located. So many deer were seen that no attempt was made to count them. One big brown object, thought to be a grizzly, was observed just entering the timber and a bull moose and two cows were made out feeding in Meadow Grass Valley, about five miles from camp. The nearest goats were not over a half mile south of where the party had crossed the Hog Back on the fishing expedition.

These things did not cause any great rejoicing on the part of the boys. They would have felt no regret if the Hog Back had been found devoid of game. Their own desire was to get nearer to “Baldy’s Bench.”

“Goats are all right,” Frank had said the night before as he and Phil talked over their hopes, “but what’s the use o’ foolin’ away time on them as long as ‘Old Baldy’ may be alive an’ kickin’?”

“Let’s talk it over with your uncle,” suggested Phil. “Maybe he’ll break camp.”

“You heard what he said,” answered Frank. “He’s after trout. And you can see he’s kind o’ soft on goats, too. I wouldn’t wonder if he thinks a big goat is as good as a big ram.”

Frank’s fears were soon confirmed. When the airship party returned and made its report, both Mr. Mackworth and his guests seemed satisfied with their present location. For six full days there was no talk of moving on. The next day the party took horses to the hills after goats and, when the rough ground became too difficult for the animals, all dismounted and proceeded on foot.

It was a hard day’s work with only such luncheon as they carried. Return was made after night had fallen with two good heads as the result; one was Mr. Mackworth’s prize and the other Captain Ludington’s. None but males were shot. Sam Skinner brought down a young buck deer for fresh meat.

“That was pretty strenuous,” said Mr. Mackworth as the pipes came out after dinner. “I suggest a rest to-morrow and another trip to Josephine Falls the day after.”

In the afternoon of the next day the boys and Lord Pelton made a trip to Michel in the Loon to get more of the May trout flies which Phil had found so successful. Some fresh venison was carried to Nelse and Robert, and two hundred pounds of ice was brought back. This flight was varied a little, the route being laid on the west side of the Elk River near the mountains. Crossing the river four miles from camp five moose were seen, half covered with water and fighting flies.

“That means more delay, I suppose,” grunted Phil to Frank. However, the discovery was promptly reported. The result was an expedition that evening as soon as the monoplane had returned. Captain Ludington toppled the biggest bull of the group; Lord Pelton fired and missed and Mr. Mackworth got the second largest animal after a chase of a half mile.

“If we could only find a few mountain sheep around here, I don’t see why we should trouble about a climb in the mountains,” said Mr. Mackworth, smiling as usual, after returning. “We have trout, grouse, deer, moose, goats and, undoubtedly, plenty of bear. And we are near enough to get ice from Michel by our aërial express.”

“I think we could get some sheep,” remarked Frank significantly. “We can take you as far into the mountains as you want to go.”

“O, we’ll move along in a day or two,” remarked Mr. Mackworth. “There’s no hurry. We must do a little mountain climbing just for the experience. This sort of camp life is too easy; a pack camp’ll be more like the real thing.”

In the next four days there was one more trip for fish and two more goat hunts. The first of these hunts was not highly successful, only one kid being shot for the table. But, on the last one the Loon was called into use. With Mr. Mackworth’s approval Frank and Phil arose at four o’clock on the day this hunt was planned, and boarded the monoplane. Flying swiftly, they crossed the river to the western hills and were already carefully scanning them when the sun appeared. For seven or eight miles there was no sign of game. Then came the reward.

At the highest point of the hills the western side—for perhaps a quarter of a mile—broke off in a gigantic precipice. On the eastern side the hill dropped so abruptly as to be unscalable by man. This left an almost knifelike edge of barren rock without growth of any kind. To reach this narrow summit one must have traveled for a mile or more either way along the rough top of the range. And here, apparently asleep, was a bunch of two dozen goats.

Without disturbing the animals the Loon was immediately put about and headed for camp. Mr. Mackworth was aroused and the eager boys related their discovery.

“If old ‘Neena the White Goat’ ain’t among ’em,” exclaimed Phil, “I’m one of ’em myself.”

Mr. Mackworth hesitated. But his sporting blood was aroused. His guests were yet asleep. Suddenly he hastened to his tent and immediately returned with his rifle.

“I may as well be killed for a goat,” he said laughing, “as for a sheep—and I’ve taken all kinds of chances for the latter. Captain Ludington says it isn’t pot hunting, so come on.”

Elated over their employer’s determination to at last use the airship, the boys enthusiastically helped Mr. Mackworth aboard. He was given the port seat and Phil took the other with his rifle at his side. In ten minutes the boys pointed out the narrowing summit on which Mr. Mackworth already had his binoculars trained.

“They’re awake now,” he exclaimed, dropping his glasses. “Drop down a bit and slow up all you can. I’m not used to shooting from an express train.”

“Shoot as if it were a bird flying,” suggested Phil. “That’s what I’m going to do.”

Before he had finished there was an exclamation from Mr. Mackworth. Slowly ascending the highest point of the ridge, as if to greet the rapidly rising sun, was a goat that made all those seen previously, only pigmies.

“If I can get that fellow, it’ll be worth this trip,” exclaimed Mr. Mackworth as he rested his elbow on the open window ledge. “He’s a whopper.” Phil was too excited to think of his own rifle. Frank made no reply. The big goat had already heard the noise of the propellers but could not locate it. As he peered to all points of the compass Frank dropped the machine and headed off a bit to give Mr. Mackworth a side shot. The experienced hunter’s shot was perfect. As the crack of it sounded the frame of the monster goat seemed to rise in the air; there was a moment in which the watchers supposed the bullet had missed and then—with mournful bleat—the goat sank in a heap without even a spring forward.

With a long sweep out over the deep valley, while Mr. Mackworth caught his breath and grasped the window ledge, the Loon sped onward in a spiral movement.

“That’s enough!” commanded the alarmed man.

“We’re goin’ back,” laughed Frank. “Get ready, both of you. They’re all there yet. They can’t locate us.”

Phil’s side of the cabin now faced the flock. As the airship shot nearer he strained his eyes to select a Billy worth his fire.

“There he goes,” exclaimed Mr. Mackworth. “Take that one jumpin’ up the rocks.”

All the goats were now moving toward the slain leader. But one was in advance. To Phil it seemed as big as Mr. Mackworth’s prize. Lower dropped the car until it was broadside on.

“It’s like a partridge just gettin’ up,” Phil muttered to himself, and following the moving form as he would a tricky bird on the wing, the anxious boy pulled the trigger.

“Missed!” groaned Phil as the goat stopped and threw its head from side to side.

“You got him!” shouted Mr. Mackworth.

For a moment there was a doubt of the result. As the Loon passed on Phil’s quarry stood shaking its head; its sharp, jet black horns almost parallel with the rocks. Then it leaped forward suddenly, turned, fell on its knees, sprang up again and bounded toward the eastern slope of the hill. Twenty other goats scrambled after it, but they all stopped and crowded together as the flying animal again sprang into the air, fell on the slope and went rolling like a stone down the face of the hill.

“You’ll find him in the timber,” commented Mr. Mackworth, “and he’s a fine one.”

After breakfast the entire camp proceeded on horseback to the bottom of the hill where the morning adventure had taken place. The bodies of the two goats were recovered after much trouble. Assisted by Phil, Sam Skinner and “Grizzly” Hosmer worked on the heads and skins of the animals until noon. Skinner pronounced the animals extraordinary specimens. The skins, in good condition, were covered with long, white hair, tinged with a little yellow on the belly, but promising snow whiteness when cleaned. Mr. Mackworth’s prize carried rapierlike horns, twenty-three inches long, while Phil had to be satisfied with nineteen inches. Mr. Mackworth’s goat weighed 316 pounds and Phil’s 298; but the latter was younger and would, when grown, have eclipsed the heavier animal.

“Either one ought to satisfy any hunter,” exclaimed Captain Ludington with admiration when the skins had been spread out.

“Then I’m glad to make you a present of mine,” answered Phil promptly.

“A present?” repeated the English officer. “To me? By no means. I couldn’t think of it.”

“Then Mr. Mackworth will send the skin and head to your home,” went on Phil with pride. “I hope you’ll take ’em. I’ll be glad if you will.”

The Captain eyed the prizes enviously, but he shook his head decisively.

“Take the head, Ludington,” suggested Mr. Mackworth. “I really don’t believe Phil cares a great deal for it. His mother might like the skin. He can keep that and I’ll have it cured and sent to her.”

Captain Ludington held out until evening and then made Phil happy by accepting his present. Mr. Mackworth, having accepted Sam Skinner’s positive assertion that the other goat was the biggest he had ever seen or heard of, announced that he meant to mount it and send it to Frank’s father with a label bearing the inscription: “Neena, the White Goat.”

As a week had now passed Mr. Mackworth announced that, after one more day for arranging the packs, camp would be broken and the expedition headed up Goat Creek toward Goat Pass and Mt. Osborne. The use of the airship in that region was problematical. He suggested that a supply of gasoline be carried with the pack train, and that the boys remain at Smith’s ranch for two days. Then they were to follow up the trail of the advance party. This party would camp, if possible, where a landing might be made and would display a white flag if such a place was found. If no such signal was displayed the Loon was to return to Smith’s ranch, and then proceed to Michel and await the return of the mountain party. As this had been the plan in general all along, Frank and Phil had no occasion to feel disappointed. Their one consolation was “Grizzly” Hosmer’s belief that he could find a landing ground for the airship even in the higher mountains.

Mr. Mackworth having secured his big goat trophy and Captain Ludington having his through Phil’s generosity—to say nothing of the moose horns and quite respectable goat head he had captured himself—Lord Pelton facetiously complained that he supposed he would have to content himself with the recollection of a specially fine trout he had taken. That evening, after the boys had turned in, Frank aroused Phil to submit a suggestion. A moment later both boys were on the edges of their cots in earnest conference. It seemed to brighten each considerably for, at the close, they turned in and slept like stuffed puppies.

The next morning, breakfast over, the two boys enticed Lord Pelton away for a talk. At its close the young Englishman startled his companion and his host by announcing that he meant to stick to Frank, Phil and the airship.

“Come to think of it,” he explained, “I’m getting fond of sky riding. I’m goin’ to take a chance on rejoining you in the mountains. That is, if you don’t mind.”

It was a surprising caprice and Mr. Mackworth seemed puzzled. But, after all, the young Englishman was not much older than Frank and Phil and his host politely assented.

“If we can’t join you,” explained Lord Pelton, “I can have a few days’ fishing and hunting here, and I’m sure of some awfully sporty rides in the airship.”

At eight o’clock the next morning Mr. Mackworth, Captain Ludington, “Grizzly” Hosmer, Sam Skinner and Jake Green—all mounted and leading five pack horses—set out on their mountain journey. One tent, ample provisions, the empty wagons and the monoplane were left for the “base party.” The extra horses, Hosmer turned loose to graze. That day was spent by the boys and Lord Pelton in grouse shooting and working about the Loon.

“And now,” said Frank, as the three washed their supper dishes, “here’s for a fine day to-morrow and an early start for ‘Baldy’s Bench.’”