Read Ebook: Kavaluus ja rakkaus: Murhenäytelmä viidessä näytöksessä by Schiller Friedrich Ahlqvist August Translator

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Ebook has 844 lines and 36756 words, and 17 pages

"A bobcat!" echoed Felix, "do you think that's all it was? Sounded to me heavier than any cat's growl I ever heard. You must have whoppers up here in Wyoming, when you find them at all, Tom."

"Why, what did you think it could be?" asked the other, quickly.

"My first idea was that it might turn out to be a panther," said Felix, "or one of those bad fighters that they call Indian devils; but then, you ought to be the best judge. No matter what it is, we want that shack, don't we, Tom?"

"And we're going to have it, right away, Felix, as soon as we can dislodge that critter. I was in hopes he'd crawl up out of the chimney, and give us a crack at him; but it looks like he was too smart to try such a dodge, with two handy guns waiting to bowl him over."

"Suppose I pound on the door, and give him notice that he'd better be making his way out as fast as he can," proposed the taller lad.

"Let me do that, while you stand here, ready to give him a bullet the instant his head shows above the top of the chimney; that's made of slabs, you notice, and mud baked so hard that it's more like cement now. The light ain't all it might be; but by stepping over here, you ought to get him against that brighter background. All ready, are you, Felix?"

"Go ahead; and it's just like you, Tom, waiting to give me the first chance at everything. Knock him up, and tell him to vamose the ranch," with which Felix raised his Marlin repeater to his shoulder, and stood at attention.

With the butt of his rifle Tom gave several sharp pounds on the door of the dugout cabin. In response, the hairy occupant simply growled some more. Again did Tom tap his summons, and the growling continued.

"That's what I call real sassy," chuckled Tom. "He says he won't budge an inch, if we have got a quit claim deed from Old Sol to this shack! And he wants to know what we're going to do about it, either."

"I don't suppose it would be the right thing to do to open the door, and rush the beast," remarked Felix. "They're a bad lot, and scratches from their claws are apt to give a fellow blood poisoning, unless he's got the stuff to counteract it. How are we going to dislodge that cat, Tom?"

"You watch my smoke," went on Tom, "and in this case that ain't just a figure of speech, either, let me remark."

"Smoke! Oh! I'm on to your game, old fellow; and let me say it's the best thing we could do. Want any help?" Felix remarked, deeply interested.

"Not me," sang out the other, who had laid his gun aside, and seemed to be looking around for certain dead twigs, and such things as would be apt to take fire readily; "I'll get a little blaze started, and then give this green weed a chance to smoulder. It'll put up the rankest smell you ever did whiff, and when I toss the same in through the door, take my word for it that cat will soon make a run up the chimney."

He busied himself for another minute, and then struck a match. As a little fire started Tom stepped back and gathered an armful of a certain weed that had not yet been killed by the frost. This he threw upon the flame, when immediately a dark smoke began to rise. As Felix got a scent of it he gave a snort.

"You're sure right, when you said that beat anything I ever ran up against," he declared, vigorously; "whew! it must be the stink-weed of the Indians. Nothing else could throw off that awful smell."

"Just what it is; and now take care, for I'm going to open the door a little to toss the stuff inside," replied Tom.

"I see our finish, if that weed ever gets to smoking inside the dugout," sighed Felix, rather disconsolately, as he held his fingers to his nose, and tried to deep his rifle in position at the same time.

"Oh! we'll soon chase that out with coffee and such things," returned the cheerful Tom; "besides, you've got to stand lots of things when you can't help it. Here goes, Felix. Now, Old Claws, will you be good?"

He gathered up the smouldering weeds, and opening the door with one hand, suddenly tossed his burden within, slamming the barrier shut again, and turning the bar. They plainly heard some heavy object come with a crash against the door, as if the cat had sprung savagely, hoping to land on its enemy, as it undoubtedly considered the one who was bothering with its peaceful occupation of the apparently abandoned shack.

Snatching up his gun, Tom sprang back to where he too could get a dim view of the top of the short chimney, not more than ten feet away.

"You first, remember, Felix; I'm only going to break in if you fail to get him," he said, hastily.

They plainly heard the cat jumping around within the place, as though it resented the odor of smoke, and such smoke too! Felix certainly could sympathize with the animal.

"He's coming!" warned Tom, suddenly.

A distinct scratching sound came to the ears of Felix. He understood what must be the cause of this; the inmate of the dugout was about to vacate. Defying all other arguments, the cat had to succumb to that of smoke from the stink-weed.

Felix kept his eyes fixed on the top of that stumpy chimney, and his gunstock was already fast against his shoulder.

"There," exclaimed Tom, as something pushed up into view, and the form of a big bobcat was seen emerging.

It had just about all appeared in view, when the report of the Marlin sounded sharply through the neighboring woods, where perhaps a gun had not been fired for several years, so far as they knew.

"Back!" cried Tom, dragging at the arm of his comrade, as the monster cat came whirling down toward them, in such a mixed-up mess that it was impossible to say whether the animal were in its death throes, or making a savage leap at its tormentors, though in either case it was the safe policy to sheer off.

When the cat landed on the ground they both saw that it had received its death wound, and hence there was no need of a second shot from either of their guns.

"That settles him for good," remarked Tom, when, with a last spasmodic movement, the savage looking beast stiffened out. "Nice to have such a warm welcome, eh, when you get to your future snug home? Now to kick that weed out of doors in a big hurry, Felix."

"Go slow," warned the other.

"What for? Do you think there might be another inside? Not much. If one had to vacate, the other would have been on his heels. This was an old hermit cat, without any family, I guess; and a buster, too. Here goes, then."

With that he flung open the door. No growling greeted them, which was a pretty good indication that the shack had yielded up its entire quota of cats.

Tom jumped in and in a trice had tossed out the smouldering weeds; which Felix trampled under foot, until they ceased to give out any smoke or smell.

"Pretty rank in here, what with the cat and the weed; hard to tell which is the worse," declared Tom; "but we'll remedy that right quick."

Both boys bustled about, getting wood for a fire; and Tom selected as much fragrant burning fragments as his knowledge of the forest trees allowed. They carried this into the dugout, the shutter of which had been opened to admit of fresh air.

The big fireplace seemed to fairly yawn, and ask for a supply of fuel, and in a very short time they had the fire going briskly.

First of all, they did everything possible to get rid of the awful odors. The two big packs were brought inside and opened, so that the coffee could be reached, and once Tom had sprinkled a few pinches of the powdered grain on the hearth, and set a burning brand alongside, to cause it to catch fire, a different scent filled the place.

"Is that any better?" he asked, laughingly.

"A thousand per cent," replied Felix. "But say, I'm as hungry as a bear; and we can't get supper any too soon to suit me."

"Same here," chirped Tom; with which remark he started in to make immediate preparations for the meal.

Expecting to depend for the most part on the game they would find, for their subsistence while in the wilderness, they had carried only certain things along, in the shape of bacon, salt pork, coffee, tea, some sugar, flour, rice, hominy, and about a quart of onions for an occasional relish. That, with their blankets, some extra clothes, and ammunition, made up the heavy packs which the boys had been carrying on their backs for three full days now--the snow-shoes counted for little, as they were light weight.

While Tom made the coffee, Felix busied himself in cooking some of the bacon. Until they had managed to knock over a deer, or supplied themselves with meat in some other fashion, they must make a raid daily on their scanty stock of food.

"But tomorrow we'll both get busy, and see what we can bag," remarked Tom, when the other mentioned this depressing fact.

There were a few crackers left, as well as some cheese, upon which they had subsisted at "noonings" on the way, not wishing to bother lighting a fire, and spending time in cooking anything, when in such haste to get located in their quarters.

Altogether they had a good satisfying meal, and Felix declared after it was over that he felt many times better.

"I'm going to smoke one pipe, just to give a flavor to the old shack where Sol burned many a pound of the weed in his day," remarked Tom, settling back comfortably, with a block of wood to support him.

"And what's in the wind then?" asked his cousin.

"I might try my hand at taking our first pelt," chuckled the other.

"Oh! yes, to be sure, I'd about forgotten that he's got a fur worth keeping. And Tom, every time we look at it, won't we just remember what a welcome he gave us on our arrival. To be sure it was only in growls; but then, that's the only language a poor old cat's got. But when you say you mean to try your hand, you're only joking, because I wager you took off many a pelt when out with Old Sol Ten Eyck."

"Of course, and I hope I haven't forgotten the lessons he taught me; for there never was a better trapper known than Sol in his prime. He's brought in the skins of every kind of animal in the country, from a black fox, down to muskrat hides, when you couldn't hardly give these last away. But nowadays, with the big demand for all kinds of furs, and a shortening supply, the muskies are fetching a price that makes it pay a fellow to gather them."

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