Four dude hunters

Chapter I

Wednesday, August the twenty-second, nineteen hundred and seventeen, was as hot in Kansas City as it might be expected to be anywhere, excepting possibly that place often described on Sunday by a class of men, who generally wear long faces and equally long black coats, as the just reward for the evil-doer. In fact, considerably too warm for a strong, healthy person, who could enjoy a game of golf, to work in the city; yet, enough sunshine, as the golf wags put it, ''to make the sap flow freely."

Shortly after lunch on this particular day, there was a large motor car speeding along the winding road in Jackson county, which leads from Kansas City, Missouri, to Hillcrest Country Club. The car was operated by a pleasant looking chauffeur. In its well upholstered tonneau two men very close to thirty-five years of age were seated. They were dressed in fresh suits of palm beach clothes ; and, in addition to their fresh linens, one of them, a wiry specimen of manhood of good height and weight, wore a cigar with a gold band about it ; while the other, a dark complexioned plump fellow, tall enough to be considered lanky, had it not been for his plumpness — which might be called corpulency — wore a Missouri meerschaum, with an amber stem and a brass band about its muzzle. These two young men were feeling very good toward one another, and the world : they were healthy and happy. As the car rolled on toward their ultimate goal they laughed and talked with each other very much as young men, carefree and with nothing immediately before them excepting a game of golf, usually would ; yet, for some reason or other, the dark complexioned young man took a long puff at his meerschaum, paused, turned to look out into a wooded country to his left, and there for a few moments gazed steadfastly.

'T hope you are not bored with your company, Percy?" urged his friend, Mr. William G. Dilts, Jr., who, by his good fellowship, was always spoken of as Bill.

"Bored, my dear boy ? Bored ! Oh, no. I am charmed, yet," said Percy C. Field, a lawyer of Kansas City. ''Bill! Did you hear that?"

"What?" asked Bill, looking mightily like we had a puncture.

"Oh, no," said Percy, smiling, "it is not a puncture or anything, it is the call of the wild. My dear friend, excuse me and my fancy — when I look out into the woods, I can't help, at this time of the year, to hear something calling: it is the call of the wild. Think of it! The twenty-second day of August — the courts are all practically closed. I have had to remain to wind up some personal business, but next week, and thank goodness for that, I leave for Northern Michigan. A golf course is up there. The air is delightfully cool and refreshing. It is a wonderful country. Come and go with me."

"I thought you had a call for the wild?" questioned Bill smiling, as he took a puff at his cigar.

"I did, and that is why I do not look forward to my Michigan trip this year. Business has demanded that I be here in Kansas City a few days too long this year. I missed a trip in the wilds of Minnesota — canoeing, swimming, fishing; fishing and the catching of big fish; camping and roughing it, so I thought I would compromise with a few weeks of golf. Come and go with me, my dear friend, and we shall have some exciting games."

"Percy !" spoke Bill earnestly and enthusiastically, "if you love nature and can enjoy a real wilderness, come with me. I leave Friday, the twenty- fourth, for the Rocky Mountains. In the course of a few days' travel and a week's pack on horses and mules over the mountains, we shall come into the greatest of all wild places. There, perhaps, a hundred miles from civilization and the railroads, we shall hunt and fish. We shall hunt bull elk; and perhaps see a mountain lion, a grizzly bear; deer of all sorts; and hunt mountain sheep ; and a great many other kinds of big game. We shall camp in the snowy peaks. Say you will go. I shall then wire my friend at Cody, Wyoming — the old home of Buffalo Bill — to engage a guide for you. Everything will be in readiness, and shall await your pleasure. Percy, it is just the trip for you. You will not have hay fever there. You may never have another such opportunity, and — it is just the thing for your health. Say the word now, and I'll send the wire by 'phone from the club house."

"All of that sounds good to me, Bill, but let me think of it a minute or so. Let me see. How far do we go? How long does it take?" Percy meditated. ''Are you going to make this trip alone?"

"Of course not ! You are going. Then there is my friend Floyd, and a friend of Floyd's, Joe ; Joe McCandless. They are both fine fellows. You will enjoy every minute you spend with them. Floyd — Floyd Hippie is his name, and he is in the grain business at Hutchinson, Kansas ; and Joe, well, Joe is an up-to-date farmer. The two of them are the best of company. We have been planning this trip for a long time. Well, this is your luck, Percy. Here we have figured out everything, written all sorts of letters inquiring about this and that ; and now everything is awaiting your pleasure. Say the word, my dear friend, and it is all yours to see and to enjoy."

As the car pulled up at Hillcrest Country Club one of the young men was deep in thought. He had a very important golf game on. He was next to the runner-up in a summer championship. He dearly enjoyed the game, and especially a game with his friend Bill, but he had again heard the call of the wild. It was sounding loudly. As he dressed for golf he dreamed of the mountains and of the big game.

"Come on, Percy, and let us play this game, and then I'll send the wire. Or shall I send it now?" asked Bill, in full golf attire, as he approached the locker of Percy.

"What? Can't find a shirt? Here! Permit me to lend you this one of mine. I've just brought out a number of clean ones."

"Thank you, Bill. Oh, yes, I can wear it by leaving the top button apart. It is a little snug, yet I feel mighty lucky to have the extra shirt. I thought to bring some out this morning, before breakfast, but it slipped my mind. All right, I am ready. Come on."

The two went out to number one tee and drove. Percy played four straight pars, and one hole below par. At the end of the first nine, Percy had Bill four down and nine to play.

*Tercy," said Bill, jokingly, after Percy had driven straight down the course nearly three hundred yards, '4f I win this game will you go with me to the mountains?"

''Will I go with you? May I go if I lose?" said Percy, realizing that there could be as many a slip in golf as ''between cup and lip."

"Why, of course. Say the word now ! I will beat you today and perhaps you will have more luck hunting," cried Bill joyfully.

"All right, I'll go," Percy replied slowly.

Bill smiled and walked over to shake hands with his companion. He appeared to be thinking more of the decision of his friend than the game; nevertheless, he teed his ball, and struck at it with a careless disregard for its destination. The ball was hit squarely, the stroke beautifully executed with a precise follow through. The ball didn't stop going until it was even with that of his opponent. Bill continued to play golf as he never played before, while Percy heard the call of the wild to the tune of two down and one to play.

"And such is life: the best part about it," said Percy, as they walked to the club house after he had congratulated Bill, "for when you are down, and a long ways down, there's always a chance to. get up again."

"Yes, there is always a chance in everything : when you are about to win you often lose ; and when you are about to lose, you often win."

"It was a fine game, Bill," urged Percy as they played the much relished nineteenth hole, enjoying a cold bottle of

root beer.

"Yes, it was. The next time I want to beat a big fellow in hot weather, I am going to lend him one of my shirts. Ha, ha; I didn't do it on purpose, Percy, but after we reached the tenth hole you got to sweating, ami the shirt got to sticking to you, and you almost did a midway dance each time before hitting the ball — the shirt stuck to you, and you didn't have a free swing through— why, that's how I came to beat you."

"Oh," laughed Percy, "that's the spirit. Beat a fellow and then furnish him with an alibi. But I now say, 'be that as it may,' tell me more about the big game we are going to play in the Rocky Mountains — I believe you said it was somewhere in Wyoming?"

After a refreshing drink, a cool shower and fresh linens the two young men were again seated comfortably in the car, which was speeding for Kansas City. Bill was talking most interestingly. Percy at times held his breath and occasionally his eyes would grow large and round.

"And that shall be our trip?" added Percy, with the keenest anticipation, "and we start Friday?"

"Friday at six p. m. I shall order a duplication of everything I have for you. I took the sizes of your shoes and clothes from your golf clothes and shoes. The Arms Company will fit yo-u out the same as I have been fitted out by them, with a rifle and such ammunition as you will need, and everything. I want you thoroughly prepared, for you might come face to face with a great big grizzly bear, or a mountain lion, or God knows what, and I want my friend to have a fair chance to come back."

"That's very kind of you, Bill. All right; I'll take that chance," added Percy, jocularly.

"Remember," insisted Bill, "it is Friday, at six p. m. Wind up your business for six weeks — and you might make out your will."

''AH in a day and a half?" interrupted Percy.

''And explain the matter to your wife. Friday, on the twenty-fourth day of August, you will leave with me. You'll be gone for six weeks. You will go into a far and distant country. There you cannot even write to your wife or friends, or receive letters from them, but there, my dear boy, you can answer the call of the wilds to your heart's content; or the call of a coyote or whatever might happen to be calling you out there, from a grizzly bear down to a chipmunk."

"All right, Bill," added Percy.

Yet such a thing was not so simple for Percy. I dare say that he would have approached the Bar of Justice, with the most guilty culprit to defend, rather than his dear wife, with the suggestions that he believed it would be best for his health to leave Kansas City entirely and go to a place a hundred miles or so from any form of civilization. Bill had accomplished this undertaking, and, as Bill had, Percy took courage.

CHAPTER 11.

Friday, August the twenty-fourth, a few minutes before six o'clock, a number of young folk approached the westbound Burlington train. Two of the young women of the party had fitted themselves so snugly in the arms of their escorts that their arrival at the Pullman entrance caused the porter to smile from ear to ear, doubtless anticipating a double honeymoon. He hurriedly gathered up the hand baggage of the men and took it away to a stateroom. Yet a casual observance of the faces of the young women would have revealed a more somber shade of life.

"All abode!" shouted the porter, a yellow, freckle-faced individual, whose dream of a double honeymoon had almost vanished.

Percy kissed dearie again, and said *'Goodby."

He boarded the car and found that Bill had again put one over on him, by removing the screen from the window of the car, and was just in the act of being separated from his dearie by the motion of the train.

"Be careful, Bill!" urged Percy. ''Remember what happened to the cow a mile down the track when once a newlywed kissed his bride in just such a way?"

So it was, goodby, dearies; goodby, Kansas City; goodby, friends of ours ! We shall call upon you within six weeks, but until then, fare thee well.

As the train sped on its way we talked, and read, and talked and read, stretched and smoked, and talked and read some more ; dined, and talked and read some more. The hour had grown late and the shades of night had fallen.

"Percy, try one of these cigars," urged Bill, as he extended a fine looking cigar.

"Thanks, Bill, thanks ! I prefer my old companion here," smiled Percy, as he produced his old battle-worn meerschaum.

"Percy," said Bill, after thinking seriously about something and blowing a volume of smoke into the upper berth of the state room, "we are going into a wild country : did you make out your will?"

"No; never thought of it. Yet, why?"

"Oh, nothing particular, excepting a fellow like you is just fat enough to make a good meal for a grizzly bear — too fat to run in a high altitude; and, of course," smiled Bill, "I don't know whether you can shoot a gun or climb a tree."

"You don't!" laughed Percy, and then he took a puff at his pipe.

"Well, I'll admit I can't climb a tree; or at least never had to. I am wilHng to take my chances with the wild things of the forest — and right here, I want to dare any old grizzly bear to cross my path."

"And I'll extend that dare to all the wild things in Wyoming," added Bill.

*'Yes, gents," smiled the Pullman porter, "if you will let me now, I shall make up the beds and you can be in the sweet land of dreams."

Bill and I then went to the other end of the train, and awaited the making up of our berths. Upon returning we went to bed for the night.

CHAPTER III. August the twentysixth, nineteen seventeen

The Burlington train on which the two young men were passengers had been rocking along at a monotonous speed since Friday, the twenty-fourth ; and while they enjoyed all of the comforts of travel, they were mighty glad to be advised by the porter that they were to prepare themselves for Billings, Montana.

"Yes, sah, this hea' am BuUens," proclaimed the yellowfaced fellow, with a laugh in harmony with the jingle of two reasonably good sized coins he had just procured.

The two young men stepped off the train eagerly. They were anxious to stand upon such a Western spot and breathe the fresh air of the West. This they did.

After canvassing the town, as to the best place to eat a large breakfast, and after finding the principal hotel still closed for the night, Percy and Bill placed their knees under a table in a restaurant and enjoyed the fat of the land to the extent of grape-fruit, oatmeal, ham and eggs, toast, coffee and wheat cakes.

"Well," said Percy, as he expanded himself in proportion to the breakfast he had just eaten, and struck a match to his pipe, "that should hold us until dinner time, anyway."

Shortly afterwards Bill and Percy boarded a shabby train with several wheels long worn flat. They bounced along over the prairie country until they reached Frantic. When the young men had finished taking a good look at that town they decided that it had been well named, and soon as possible they boarded another ''flat-wheeler" for Cody, Wyoming.

We passed through a great expanse of country. There appeared a number of green spots — irrigated farming was fast turning the wilderness into a veritable paradise. In the distance we could see the Rocky Mountains.

"The country is growing more interesting in the distance," said Bill; 'T wonder what sort of game live in those mountains now?"

'T understand we are to see, and right shortly. Isn't that Cody across the river?"

The train rattled up to the station about a mile or so from what appeared to be a collection of buildings, which were upon the townsite of Cody, Wyoming.

"Cody !" shouted a leather-voiced brakeman.

I looked out of the car window. I saw three anxiouslooking individuals and a few other people. The anxiouslooking young men were close to thirty-five years of age. A plump sort of a fellow, about five feet ten inches tall, with large blue eyes, and a florid complexion, looked a little unnatural in his high Stetson hat ; while another, a well-built, black-haired, soldierly young man, not yet thirty-one years of age, with keen black eyes, wore a soldier's uniform. While the third, a well-sized young man, appeared to have relaxed into the ways of the West, and yet a critical examination would reveal that he too, still possessed a trait of the East. The three young men got on the car.

"Well! My friends! Floyd and Joe," shouted Bill, as he caught their extended hands.

"And this is my friend Percy," exclaimed Floyd.

"Yes, Floyd and Joe, meet Percy Field." Floyd and Joe grasped the hands of their friend, Percy, as they turned to meet another genial sort of fellow.

"Percy and Bill, this is our friend, and your guide. Bill ;

this is Hal — Hal Evards," and everybody shook Hal's hand, and we blocked the doorway so that the other two passengers had to go out the back way. On becoming so well acquainted we all got into Hal's automobile and started for Cody and The Irma Hotel.

Chapter IV

We arrive at The Irma Hotel. Our trunks are sent to us there a little later. We are booked for dinner.

This hotel is maintained by a daughter of Buffalo Bill — his daughter Irma, a comfortable looking woman of possibly, shall I say thirty summers, for the daughter of Buffalo Bill ? At any rate, however, as she has almost passed the age to play the part of an extremely youthful heroine in literature, I shall have to leave her to preside, and preside with dignity, too, over The Irma Hotel.

This hotel is located on the corner of two of the principal streets of Cody. It is a commodious two-story frame edifice built in keeping with the town, yet a little better than the town could have had had it not been for its namesake, the Honorable Colonel William Cody. On the south side, and immediately abutting upon the street, is a large porch, where, during good weather, a great many hunting stories may be heard ; while on the other side, a shoe stand and The Irma Bar.

The walls, desk and almost every available space in the hotel and bar, and in fact the entire town of Cody, are decorated with pictures of the Honorable Mr. Colonel William Cody. The walls of The Irma particularly abound with his pictures. There you can see pictures of the Honorable Mr. Colonel William Cody as a young man ; an Indian fighter ; a middle-aged man ; the pictures of him as a man late in life ; a writer ; a show man ; a conqueror of the prairie ; and a picture in a pose denoting almost every other kind of a Western hero. What little wall space there remains is covered with game trophies.

We strangers from the East had dinner and spent some time in studying the pictures and trophies.

*'Thereare some fine trophies in thebarroom," suggested Hal.

We then went to the barroom of The Irma Hotel. It is one of easy access to both the outside world and the hotel. I counted four entrances to it. From the size of the crowd that patronized the place, I could readily understand the necessity for the number of doors ; and from some of the patrons, why the large front and back doors.

Of course, while enjoying the various works of art on the walls, and game trophies, it occurred to one of our party that our space required the purchase of some token of affection, such as a drink of some sort ; and, as the crowd was composed of two very temperate young men from Kansas City and two equally as temperate from the prohibition state of Kansas, it can be easily imagined what we had to drink.

"You dudes," shouted Hal, "had better stop your drinking lemonade, soda pop and such, and go and pack your war bags. We have a long trip before us, and the boys at the ranch are impatiently awaiting your arrival," interrupting a discussion over the bar of the largest bull elk ever killed in the mountains.

"War bags, what are they?" inquired one of the dudes. "And what was that prettj^ little name you called your newly made friends, Hal?" asked Percy, as he finished his lemonade.

"Dudes," added Hal with a smile. "Dudes, that's what you will be called out here. In Montana they, the natives, call the hunters sports ; here we have another name — dudes. In fact, to be a dude out here isn't so bad; and, rather than dub you tenderfoot, or sport, we folks out here in Wyoming just call you dudes — we call the lady hunters, dudines ; and your party, a dude party, and the guides, dude wranglers."

"And we tough-looking, rough-looking boys — in fact, I am inclined to say ornery looking individuals — are to be known as dudes? What a pleasure it is to know ourselves as others appreciate us," spoke one of the dudes, concluding: ''Hal, my dear friend Hal, can a dude buy a drink of — now, let's see, what is a dude supposed to buy ?"

The dude was informed that that privilege still remained, and was almost expected. In fact, he was expected not only by the bartender and flies — and here I mean, to buy for the bartender and to buy for the flies or hangers-on. So it was that the dude who suggested, out loud, and, as I remember it, it wasn't so loud, either, was given a chance to buy ; and to make quite an extravagant purchase, too, for it appeared that he was the box agent at a circus, which had been well advertised, from the number who gathered around him.

The dudes, however, were well pleased with the venture, as it brought so many of the hangers-on out from the walls that it gave a better view of the trophies and pictures of the Honorable Mr. Colonel William Cody.

**Say, if you dudes don't hurry, we'll be caught in the dark — of course, it is all right with me, but I am anxious to get started. You know we have a thirty-mile drive ahead of us — up the Shoshone Canon — and you dudes had better pack your war bags," repeated Hal, seriously.

'Tack our war bags for thirty miles up the canyon?" interrupted one of the dudes.

"Oh, no," added another, analyzing the situation painstakingly, and without any need; "you see, my dear dude, you pack your war bag and put the bag in the car, and then the car packs you and your war bag, see ! Precisely so."

"Of course," laughed another dude, as he stepped to one side and permitted a rough sort of an individual to get up close to the bar.

"Yes; and certainly you see," he interrupted, and added, wobbling slightly: "Let us have a-n-o-t-h-e-r, and another. Let the car pack the war bag. Ha, ha ! Let the car pack the war bag ! It can do it as well as a mule, and Gawd knows a mule can. Say, Steve!" said our newly made friend, as he called a thirsty-looking person. "Want to ask you a question; hick-up, hick! Can a mule pack a war bag?" Steve didn't seem to care as much about packing a war bag as a drink, and quite aptly ended the argument by suggesting that he thought his friend was going to buy a drink.

''Here, Mister Bartender!" Our newly made friend pounded on the bar for an audience. '''My dude friends, and a roughneck," pointing to Steve, "and myself want a drink. If you are damn quick about it you might take two yourself — the quick-er I get you drunk the cheaper it will be for me, and my dude friends — so., gentlemen, roughnecks and dudes, what will yer pleasure be?"

The dudes suggested that they would take the same as before. The hospitable stranger told the bartender that he would have WHISKEY, with a thump on the bar that almost bounced the glasses off of the bar, and the nose of the bartender, while the other friends suggested unmistakably that they would take the same. They poured it out of the bottle themselves until their glasses were full to the brim at twenty-five cents per glass.

"For the love of Gawd ! You are a queer lot of dudes !" our new host added in astonishment, as he drank with one swallow his little needed drink and surveyed the soft drinks of the dudes.

"Say, stranger," put in Joe, after Hal had made another suggestion, "we have to go now," and with a smile, "If we don't see you again — well, when we meet you, it will be soon enough. Good-by."

The dudes hurried away to pack their war bags. There was the neatly packed trunk of Bill and the neatly packed trunk of Percy. Their wives had packed these trunks, oh so neatly. Everything was in its proper place. It would be a shame to destroy the neatness of these trunks ; yet Bill and Percy were in a hurry. They had been urged to hasten any number of times by Hal. They opened their trunks and took out their hunting clothes and put them on. As these war bags were to be carried on the backs of mules, and their contents would be thoroughly mixed by the movement of the mules, Joe held the war bag of Percy open, and Percy picked up the tray of the trunk and poured everything which was in the tray into the war bag, and in like manner picked up the trunk and emptied it into the war bag. His citizen clothes were then carefully folded and placed in the trunk and the trunk locked. It was then ready to be carried to the trunk room of The Irma, where it would remain for the next month. After doing this, Percy sat down on his war bag and lit his pipe and smoked. Bill had just started packing his war bag. He was wondering where he could put his various necessities, when Hal told him that it would take about forty mules to carry his outfit into the mountains. The two. Bill and Hal, then sorted his necessities, which were far less than Bill had thought, and put them in the war bag of Bill.

"Aren't you dudes ever going to get your war bags packed?" asked Percy, as he calmly smoked his pipe, adding between puffs that he supposed as the guide was in such a rush he expected the dudes had better pack their war bags downstairs. Floyd, Joe and Percy, and in the course of a short time. Bill, swung their war bags over their shoulders and started downstairs.

When Percy reached the first floor, he was met by his newly made friend, who had bought a drink for practically all of Cody and the dudes.

'1 say," sputtered this friendly fellow, as he placed his hand upon the shoulder of Percy, ''shall w^ have another drink before you go? Or shall we have several? It will make the long ride easier, and your nerve a trifle steadier. Say, boy, don't you know you are out where the West really begins? Come on!" he added, giving Percy a friendly nudge.

"Oh, come on ! Percy. Bid your friend good-by," shouted Hal.

"Now, aren't you the dude?" added the thirsty one, squinting through a pair of bleared eyes, slightly unsteady on his feet. "Well, if I were the dude, I'd tell that smart chap to go to hell. Come on ! Let us have a-n-o-t-h-e-r !" Percy thanked him for his generosity and stepped out of the door and into the car.

Joe was stopped by the same individual, and Bill and Floyd, and in this way all of the dudes were tempted by the greatest enemy of the West.

The people of The Irma Hotel came out onto the porch to bid the dudes farewell. We shouted them a fond adieu as we drove away.

Chapter V

We turned the car around and drove up Main street. On our way we were hailed by a messenger, who ran out from the curb. He informed Hal that we had broken a spring. We stopped. The mechanics of Cody gave a hand. They brought out from a garage a clamp which they put on the spring. This clamp was a temporary repair, yet it held the leaves of the spring secure. While this mechanical work was being done, the dudes thought of something they wanted and went to the drug store.