Two Boys in Wyoming | Page 7

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