The Essential Writings of James Willard Schultz. James Willard Schultz
here until it is repaired, and the repairers will have to pass our home. Let us go down there. Let us start right now. Not by the trail, but down by the way of the West Fork.
That will be best, George. Then, when the repair men come along, you can return here with them.”
‘‘I promised the Supervisor that I would stick to this place during the season, and right here I stick just as long as I can,” I told her. “Come. We’ll begin bringing our outfit up here. We can do it safely enough. The ham-stealer is cooking his supper: he can’t be down there in the canyon and at the cabin at the same time.”
“All right! Lead!” She cried, and without another word followed me from the lookout. I was proud of her, but did n’t tell her so. Not many girls, I ’ll bet, would have had the courage to follow me down that dark mountain-side, where old Double Killer’s tracks were almost fresh in the trail, and where, at the cabin, we might meet with worse than he!
We descended the trail as noiselessly as was possible, but for all our care, we now and then dislodged rocks that rattled down the slope with a noise that seemed like thunder in our ears. We stood a long time at the edge of the clearing, looking, listening, then silently sneaked across it to the cabin, itself a black blur in the darkness. I unlocked the door and we went in: “We can’t pack up without a light,” I said, and put a match to the lamp on the table and stared about the place: everything was apparently as we had left it — no! some sugar was scattered upon the floor in front of the food chest I flung up the cover and we saw at once that some one had tumbled its contents about. The sugar sack was half emptied; some bacon had been taken; also a pound can of coffee; a can of baking-powder; some dried apples and part of the sack of salt. We stared at the walls and the floor of the cabin. I went to the windows; found them still nailed fast. And then we stared at one another: “Sister,” I said, “who ever the thief is, he has a Forest Service key! ”
She nodded. Her face was dead white in the lamplight; her eyes full of fear. “Let’s hurry!” she whispered.
We sure did hurry! With two sweeps of my arm I got the dishes, knives, forks, spoons, and things on the table into a sack, then rolled our bedding while Hannah put the food in the chest into three large sacks and the cooking-vessels into another sack. Then, in three trips, we got everything but one roll of bedding well up the trail beyond the clearing. I went back for it, and put out the light and locked the door. But we could not carry all that stuff up the terribly steep trail to the summit in three or four trips: seven times we went up it with our loads, puffing, sweating, straining every muscle of our bodies; and when, at last, we got everything up to the lookout, our strength suddenly went from us; we sank down upon the rocks outside, and Hannah almost at once fell sound asleep.
The fire in the canyon had gone out. I looked at my watch: twelve o’clock and past. When I had rested somewhat, I got a pailful of snow from a near bank, set it on the little stove in the lookout and built a fire. How glad I was that there was plenty of snow; we should have to depend upon it for all the water we used. As soon as the fire was going well, I opened our bed rolls and with blankets and quilts completely shaded the windows of the lookout. I then lighted a candle, got Hannah inside, and prepared a good meal. I had to waken her again when it was ready. How we did eat; never in our lives, we thought, had we been so hungry. And for the time we felt quite safe where we were. Not a ray of our light could be seen from the outside of the lookout; no one would think of looking for us there that night.
‘‘That grub thief, how surprised he will be when he comes again to the cabin,” I laughed.
“You needn’t laugh: he will be sneaking up here,” said Hannah.
“He will; and I shall be watching for him,” I answered. “You are going to watch during the day while I sleep, and at night I’ll stand guard. I don’t care how dark it is, he can’t approach this little rock butte without me hearing him, and if he comes up right close I can see him and he will get what is due him!”
I went for more snow, and when we had melted it and washed the dishes, we put out the light, took down the window coverings, and Hannah made her bed inside, and I crawled into my sleeping-bag out on the north side of the lookout, at the head of the trail. I fell asleep wondering what would happen on the morrow; if we should see the line repairers and learn that the fire-setters had been killed or captured? And most I wondered who it was that had a Forest Service key and had stolen my food.? The padlocks and door locks of the Service were of especial make, all alike, and could be opened only with the keys that came with them. Had some discharged employee held out one of the keys and turned bad man?
When we awoke, at dawn, a fire was again burning down in the Black River Canyon, and without doubt more of my food was being cooked over it. I told Hannah that I believed I could sneak down there and see who the thief was, and get safely back. But at that she made a great outcry: she would not stay there alone in the lookout for a moment; if I went down into the canyon she would go, too.
The fire in the canyon went out so suddenly, at sunrise, that we were sure it had been quenched with water. I swept the great forest with the glasses and was glad that there was not anywhere the least signs of a fire. We had our breakfast, washed the dishes, piled all our things close up against the lookout — there was n’t room for them inside — and then time hung heavy upon our hands. We had too many worries to continue gathering beads and arrow-points or to explore my cave hole.
From the south side of the little rock butte upon which the lookout is perched, the mountain makes a long and very steep drop to a narrow, bare ridge running south and separating the forks of Black River and White River. We happened to be looking down upon it, soon after breakfast, and saw three large deer — all bucks, apparently — come tearing out of the timber upon its east slope, pause for a moment on top, looking back whence they had come, and then race on down into the timber of the west slope.
“A mountain lion must have frightened them!” Hannah exclaimed.
“More likely our grub thief; they came up from his canyon,” I told her, and turned my glasses that way just in time to see two big turkey gobblers come running up on the bare slope, spring into the air and sail off, down over the timber. Hannah saw them, too, although she had no glasses, and cried; ‘‘Now we shall see what frightened the deer, and them!”
But we did n’t, although we closely watched the place for a long time. And finally I said: “It was man that frightened the deer and turkeys; had it been a lion, it would have come out on their trail, a little way, anyhow. The chances are that right now that grub-stealer is there near the edge of the timber, staring up at us!”
And at that Hannah shivered. “How dreadful to think that one is being watched by the snake eyes of a robber — murderer, maybe! I just can’t bear it!” She sprang up and went into the shelter of the lookout. I followed, and tried the telephone, got no answer to my calls, and went outside to watch again.
The morning dragged on, oh, how slowly! We became so nervous that we could n’t sit still; we just milled around and around the lookout, staring down, and now and then trying the silent telephone. And then, near noon, we shouted and waved our hands, and Hannah danced, for there was Uncle John hurrying toward us in the trail up from the cabin.
‘‘So! You’ve moved camp, I see!” he exclaimed, coming up on top and staring at our outfit pile against the lookout. “Well, how goes it? We went over to Riverside Station, found that the telephone was n’t working, and your mother got to worrying and sent me up to learn how you are? ”
“Oh, such a time we have had! Terrible!” Hannah cried, and told him all our troubles, I putting in a word now and then.
He looked very solemn when we had finished, asked some questions, and then said; “I guess your camp robber is Henry King.”
“Henry King!” we cried. Did n’t we know him — know of him! Wife-beater, lazy, drinking, gambling man who had drifted into Nutrioso — a settlement a few miles east of us — several years back, married Jennie Ames, and treated her so badly that she had left him!
‘‘Yes, Henry King!” Uncle John went on. “He enlisted and was sent to Camp Kearny,