Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks: or, Two Recruits in the United States Army

"Not unless you very much want to, Noll. Can't we put in the time better learning our way around the post?"

"Perhaps we can," assented Noll.

A soldier came along, driving a pair of mules to which a quarter master's wagon was hitched. As he drew near, with a heavy load aboard, he halted to rest the mules.

"Rooks, ain't ye?" questioned the soldier.

"Yes," admitted Hal.

"Taking a survey of the post?"

"Rather. We don't have to report for duty until to-morrow."

After a few moments the soldier climbed down from the seat of the wagon. He was wholly willing to tell the boys whatever they wanted to know about Fort Clowdry and to point out the features of interest in the surrounding lines of mountains.

"Ever go hunting?" asked the soldier, at last.

"Yes; after squirrels and partridges," laughed Hal.

"No real hunting, though?"

"None."

"Then, if you can keep out of discipline troubles, ye'll have some fun around here by and by."

"Soldiers don't have much time for hunting, do they?" Hal asked.

"Those that know how to hunt do," replied the older soldier. "That's part of the life here. Didn't ye ever hear about soldier hunting parties?"

"I certainly haven't," Hal admitted.

"Why, men of good conduct are often allowed to go off on hunting parties when the game's running right. Generally there's six or eight men to a party, and all have to be fair shots, for the K. O. doesn't aim to have too much ammunition wasted," explained the old soldier. "One of the party is a non-com and he has charge of the party."

"What do the hunters get?" queried Hal.

"Well, for bigger game, bear and mountain antelope mostly. Then some parties go after birds; there's plenty of them, too, in the mountains, at the right seasons."

"Say!" exploded Noll, his eyes shining.

"Think ye'd like to go on a hunting party, do ye?" asked the soldier. "Get up yer record for marksmanship, then."

"What's done with the game?" asked Noll innocently.

"What – " the soldier started to repeat. Then he added, dryly:

"Oh, we send the game to the hospitals in Denver and Pueblo, of course!"

"Don't we get any of it to eat?" asked Noll, looking up.

"Say, don't ever go off with a party that doesn't bring back a big haul of game," advised the older soldier. "If ye do, the company cooks will lynch ye. Why, that's what we go hunting for – to vary the bill of fare here at the post. Sometimes, when we're all just aching for bear steaks, an officer and twenty or thirty men all hike off at once into the mountain trails. There are plenty of game dinners at Clowdry, at different times in the year."

Then the soldier climbed leisurely to the seat of his wagon and started on again.

"I wonder if he was fooling us about hunting parties," mused Hal.

Later on, however, the rookies discovered that the soldier had told them the truth. On some of the Western posts, hunting forms one of the diversions of the men.

Presently they met another soldier, this time afoot.

"How far can we go without getting off the reservation?" Hal inquired.

"The way you're headed now you can go another mile without getting off limits," the soldier replied.

"Reservation" is a term applied to the limits of an Army post. Wherever an Army post exists it includes land reserved by the United States from the jurisdiction of the individual state. Hence the name of reservation.

It was wilder country out here, away from the well-kept roads.

"Come on," urged Hal. "I'm going to take a good walk yet."

They had gone along, briskly, for at least another half mile when some flying missile went by Hal's head. Noll, who was just behind him, saw the missile, and watched it land on the ground beyond.

"Whoever is throwing rocks of that size – quit!" shouted Noll, wheeling to his left and glaring at an irregularly-shaped ledge some sixty yards away.

"Let's see who it is, anyway," cried Hal, darting toward the ledge.

By the time they reached the ledge they heard some lively scrambling among the rocks beyond, but neither rookie could see anyone. All was quiet for a few moments. Then a foot slipped on a stone, at a little distance. Hal raced straight in the direction of the sound. He was in time to see a crouching, running figure darting in and out among the rocks.

"Come on, Noll! We've got him!" yelled Hal.

In another minute they had overtaken the fugitive, who now stood panting at bay.

"Well, you're a nice one!" ejaculated Private Hal Overton.

"Tip Branders – out here in Colorado!" ejaculated Noll Terry.

"No; my name ain't Branders. Ye've got me mixed up with somebody else!" glowered the young man at bay.

CHAPTER XVI

THE MYSTERY OF POST THREE

"OH, no, your name isn't Tip Branders!" mocked Hal Overton.

"That's what I said," retorted the young man at bay.

"Then how do you know who we are?"

"I don't know who ye are, and what's more, I don't care," retorted the other.