Ben Ch 10

WE'LL be in sight of old Chimney Rock to- morrow, I believe," said Joe; "see what the guide book says. We are only thirty miles from it, and they say it can be seen on clear days for about twenty miles."

Finally Joe caught a first glimpse of the famed spire, off in the dim distance. For several days it was in sight of these travelers. Scotts Bluff, a great cliff bordering the Platte River, was another landmark full of interest.

While the train was encamped one night, a few miles east of this bluff, all were deeply touched by a discovery made by one of the mothers. Out among the grasses not far from the camp, she found a grave, marked by a wagon tire.

On this tire someone had cut the words REBECCA WINTERS--AGE 50. As word was spread around the groups, others gathered at the grave. Then someone said, "She was the wife of Hiram Winters; I'm sure of it. They were neighbors of ours in Illinois."

That evening around a fire in the middle of the camp someone led the folk in singing the song, "Come, Come ye Saints," created by William Clayton to cheer the pioneers on their westward journey. After their experience at the grave of a mother who had passed away on the trail, they found deeper meaning in the last lines:

"And should we die before our journey's through, Happy day, all is well.

We then are free from toil and sorrow too;

With the just we shall dwell;

But if our lives are spared again,

To see the Saints, their rest obtain,

Oh, how we'll make this chorus swell, All is well! All is well!"

Fort Laramie was the next place of intense interest. The boys watched there the soldiers on parade, saw some buckskin-clad mountain men, and Indians in their picturesque costumes. Not far from the fort was an Indian village with its tepees, a herd of ponies grazing near, while Indian boys and girls played about with a host of wolfish looking dogs.

On up the North Platte River the pioneers journeyed, camping night after night under the stars, which in this mountain land seemed more friendly. Finally the Platte was forded and across a wide plain they went on towards a pleasant smaller river called the Sweetwater.

"We are surely getting up in the mountains now," said Ben's mother. "It takes twice as much bedding to keep us warm these clear, cold nights."

Few buffalo were to be seen on these high lands; but antelope were along the trail by hundreds.

Hunters of the train found the lithe little animals not easy to get. They usually kept out of gunshot; and one of them was ever on top of a hill to guard the band.

"Why don't you try the Indian way?" suggested Captain Curtis to some men who had failed to bring back any of this game.

"What's that?" asked Joe's father.

"Well, you notice that antelope are full of curiosity, don't you?"

"Yes; they are always watching us -- seem to want to know what it is all about."

"That's right," said Ben's father. "Some of them even followed us at a safe distance this morning."

"Injuns take advantage of this curiosity," said the Captain. "I've seen a red hunter slip o ff into the sage- brush and lie down. Then he would put up a fluttering thing like a piece of red cloth on a stick. Before long some of the inquisitive antelope would come circling slowly round, getting closer and closer. Suddenly an arrow or a bullet would find its mark and the Redskin would have some good meat for his tepee."

"Let us boys try that trick, Captain Curtis," said Ben.

"Well, if your fathers are willing, I don't mind. But be mighty careful with your guns; and if you get a shot, don't aim towards the train."

Both fathers gave consent; and off started Joe and Ben in eagerness.

"Now, keep down your excitement," cautioned Ben's father. "Wait till the antelope get close enough before you fire."

"Yes, and don't shoot at their heads," advised Joe's father. "That target is too small; aim at their hearts."

"We will," the eager boys called back as away they went towards a hill where some antelope had been sighted.

"I don't know whether you're doing right to let them go off hunting alone," said Grandmother White.

"Now, quit your fretting, Mother," said Ben's father. "They will be all right. It's time they learned to get bigger game than rabbits."

Ben and Joe had soon disappeared in a hollow and were stealing up a low hill. When they were about to the top, they got down on hands and knees and crawled through the brush to peep at what was beyond.

"There they are I" whispered Joe.

Ben had caught sight of the band at the same instant; about twenty of them, young and old feeding on the grasses. On a hill above was a proud young buck acting as sentinel.

"We'll have to be careful," said Ben, drawing a red handkerchief from his pocket.

Joe had brought a stick. On this the bandanna was quickly tied and raised to flutter in the breeze. In an instant the alert sentinel had sighted the strange flag and passed some antelope signal to the band below. Up came every head.

Then, under the sentinel's lead, the animals began to investigate. True to the Captain's word, they started to come closer, moving warily towards the strange object. It was hard for the young hunters to bide their time. They managed to hold their fire, however, until the buck and two or three others were less than a hundred yards away.

"Let me get the leader," whispered Joe; "you shoot the one next to him."

"All right," said Ben.

"Ping! Ping!" went their rifles.

Away bounded the antelope - all but one. "I've hit him! I've hit him!" yelled Joe.

Sure enough, the sentinel was badly hurt. Ben, disappointed at having missed, had hastily reloaded his gun. Both began to run towards the wounded buck. As they got closer, they saw his front leg was broken.

"Let me end his suffering," said Ben. "All right, shoot," said his pal.

Ben took careful aim and put a bullet just behind the shoulder. Down went the antelope.

"Seems a shame to kill the pretty thing," said the young hunter.

"Yes; but we need the meat," returned Joe.

A moment later, the boys were at the top of a hill waving their hats and shouting. Very soon two scouts of the train were with them. The fallen antelope was lifted to a saddle of one of their horses; and they went jubilantly back with their first big game.

It wasn't their last good hunting by any means. Now they had proved their skill at stalking antelope, they were given other chances. Next day, while the train was in camp at Independence Rock, Ben brought down a fat young buck, all by himself; and Joe got another.

There were sage hens too, thousands of them along the Sweetwater. The two boys, with the help of Paul and other youngsters, armed with bows and arrows, managed to keep a supply of these game bird on hand. In the late summer and early fall they are tasty food.

"I like antelope better than buffalo," said Grandmother White, when Ben brought in his first big game.

Ben's father could not quite agree with her, but he did make a hearty meal of the antelope roast the mother had prepared in the "Dutch Oven." As for Ben, Paul, and Hannah, and little Ike, they found it "good eating." All the children, including baby Parley, born a few months before they left Pigeon Creek, seemed to thrive on the life of the trail. They grew stronger and happier day by day.

Autumn had come by the time they reached the Sweetwater. On past Independence Rock the train journeyed, then came "Devil's Gate," a craggy cleft in the rnountain through which flows the upland river. Finally they went over the crest of the continent to make camp at Pacific Springs.

"Good thing we did not have a snow storm before we rolled over South Pass," said Captain Curtis. "The weather can get pretty mean up there sometimes. It looks now as if we shall make the trip clear into the Valley without too much trouble."

"The Lord has blessed us all the way," said Grandmother White.

He continued to bless the little band of fathers and mothers and children who had heeded the call to gather in the new homeland. By October, when the mountains seemed clothed with "Joseph's coat of many colors," the caravan from Pigeon Creek had made its way for a thousand miles or more to roll out of the Emigration Canyon gateway. At last they looked upon the scene that met the eyes of President Young, when rising from his sick bed, he said, "This is the place."

With hearts filled with gratitude they went into camp down in the valley. A final thrill came to Ben and his own family when both Uncle Starling and Uncle Sam rode up to greet them. Other joyous reunions came that night to various members of the train. Their hearts echoed the line from the song that had cheered them across the great plains. It was a "happy day," and "all was well."