The Huge Hunter | Page 8

I'd bust his b'iler, or blow my own head off.'
'Just what I thought when you were trying to persuade me to sell it,' interrupted the boy.
'Then, if he got the cramp in any of his legs, I wouldn't know how to tie it up ag'in, and thar we'd be.'
'I am glad to see you take such a sensible view of it,' smiled Johnny.
'So, I'm goin' on West, as I said, with two fools besides myself, and we're goin' to stay thar till yer get this old thing finished; and then I'm comin' after you to take a ride out thar.'
'That would suit me very well,' replied the boy, his face lighting up with more pleasure than he had shown. 'I would be very glad to make a trip on the prairies.'
'Wal, look fur me in about six weeks.'
And with this parting, the hunter was let out the door, and disappeared, while Johnny resumed his work.
That day saw the steam man completed, so far as it was possible. He was painted up, and every improvement made that the extraordinarily keen mind of the boy could suggest. When he stood one side, and witnessed the noiseless but powerful workings of the enormous legs, he could not see that anything more could be desired.
It now remained for him to complete the wagon, and he began at once.
It would have been a much easier matter for him to have secured an ordinary carriage or wagon, and alter it to suit himself; but this was not in accordance with the genius of the boy. No contrivance could really suit him unless he made it himself. He had his own ideas, which no one else could work out to his satisfaction.
It is unnecessary to say that the vehicle was made very strong and durable.
This was the first great requisite. In some respects it resembled the ordinary express wagons, except that it was considerably smaller.
It had heavy springs, and a canvas covering, with sufficient, as we have shown in another place, to cover the man also, when necessary.
This was arranged to carry the wood, a reserve of water, and the necessary tools to repair it, when any portion of the machinery should become disarranged.
English coal could be carried to last for two days, and enough wood to keep steam going for twenty-four hours. When the reserve tank in the bottom of the wagon was also filled, the water would last nearly as long.
When these contingencies were all provided against, the six weeks mentioned by the hunter were gone, and Johnny Brainerd found himself rather longing for his presence again.
CHAPTER V.
ON THE YELLOWSTONE.
BALDY BICKNELL was a hunter and trapper who, at the time we bring him to the notice of the reader, had spent something over ten years among the mountains and prairies of the West.
He was a brave, skillful hunter, who had been engaged in many desperate affrays with the red-skins, and who, in addition to the loss of the hair upon the crown of his head, bore many other mementos on his person of the wild and dangerous life that he had led.
Like most of his class, he was a restless being, constantly flitting back and forth between the frontier towns and the western wilds. He never went further east than St. Louis, while his wanderings, on more than one occasion, had led him beyond the Rocky Mountains.
One autumn he reached the Yellowstone, near the head of navigation, just as a small trading propeller was descending the stream. As much from the novelty of the thing, as anything else, he rode on board, with his horse, with the intention of completing his journey east by water.
On board the steamer he first met Ethan Hopkins and Mickey McSquizzle, who had spent ten years in California, in a vain hunt for gold, and were now returning to their homes, thoroughly disgusted with the country, its inhabitants and mineral resources.
Baldy was attracted to them by their peculiarities of manner; but it is not probable that anything further would have resulted from this accidental meeting, but for a most startling and unforeseen occurrence.
While still in the upper waters of the Yellowstone, the steamer exploded her boiler, making a complete wreck of the boat and its contents. The hunter, with the others, was thrown into the water, but was so bruised and injured that he found it impossible to swim, and he would assuredly have been drowned but for the timely assistance of his two acquaintances.
Neither the Yankee nor Irishman were hurt in the least, and both falling near the trapper, they instantly perceived his helplessness and came to his rescue. Both were excellent swimmers, and had no difficulty in saving him.
'Do ye rist aisy!' said Mickey, as be saw the hunter's face contorted with pain, as be vainly struggled in