The Voyage of the Rattletrap   By: Hayden Carruth (1862-1932)

The illustration captions at the places where they have been inserted in the HTML version, not in the exact locations where they occur in the book.

THE VOYAGE OF THE RATTLETRAP

BY HAYDEN CARRUTH

AUTHOR OF "THE ADVENTURES OF JONES" ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY H. M. WILDER

NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1897

TO

JOHN BRIAR

A POOR COOK BUT A GOOD FELLOW

CONTENTS

CHAP I. Getting Ready II. Outward Bound III. From Lookout Lake To The Missouri River IV. Into Nebraska V. Across The Niobrara VI. By Canyons To Valentine VII. Through The Sand Hills VIII. On The Antelope Flats IX. Off For The Black Hills X. Among The Mountains XI. Deadwood XII. Homeward Bound

ILLUSTRATIONS

MAP The Voyage First Suggested Preparations Grandpa Oldberry Presages Disaster Snoozer Mutiny Of The Pony Effect Of A Strange Noise Plan For Rousing A Sound Sleeper First Lesson In Hay Twisting Investigations Hats Milking The Heifer That Wore A Sleigh Robe Wet But Hopeful Anti Horse Thieves Jack Shoots A Grouse Flight Of The Blacksmith Studying Botany "When The Winds Are Breathing Low" Sad Result Of Dishonesty First Night Camp In The Sand Hills Dark Doings Of The Cook No Horse Feed The Careful Corn Owner A Study In Red Men A Good Salesman Big Bear Looks Into The Educational Situation A Lesson In Finance The Rattletrap In The Storm Effect Of A Dog On A Mexican Post Mortem On A Grizzly 'gene Starts A Cook Book Lack Of Confidence In Mankind Flying Cord Wood The Deserted Ranch Old "Blenty Vaters" In The Prairie Fire Well! Well! Well!

[Frontispiece: Map of the voyage]

THE VOYAGE OF THE RATTLETRAP

I: GETTING READY

Perhaps we were pretty big boys Jack and I. In fact, I'm afraid we were so big that we haven't grown much since. But Ollie was a boy, anyhow; he couldn't have been more than a dozen years old, and we looked upon him as being a very small boy indeed; though when folks saw us starting off, some of them seemed to think that we were as boyish as he, because, they said, it was such a foolish thing to do; and in some way, I'm sure I don't know how, boys have got the reputation of always doing foolish things. "They're three of a kind," said Grandpa Oldberry, as he watched us weigh anchor; "their parents oughter be sent fer."

Well, it's hard to decide where to begin this true history. We didn't keep any log on this voyage of the Rattletrap. But I'll certainly have to go back of the time when Grandpa Oldberry expressed his opinion; and perhaps I ought to explain how we happened to be in that particular port. As I said, we Jack and I were pretty big boys, so big that we were off out West and in business for ourselves, though, after all, that didn't imply that we were very old, because it was a new country, and everybody was young; after the election the first fall it was found that the man who had been chosen for county judge wasn't quite twenty one years of age yet, and therefore, of course, couldn't hold office; and we were obliged to wait three weeks till he had had his birthday, and then to have a special election and choose him again. Everybody was young except Grandpa Oldberry and Squire Poinsett.

But I was trying to account for our being in the port of Prairie Flower. Jack had a cheese factory there, and made small round cheeses. I had a printing office, and printed a small square newspaper. In my paper I used to praise Jack's cheeses, and keep repeating how good they were, so people bought then; and Jack used, once in a while, to give me a cheese. So we both managed to live, though I think we sometimes got a little tired of being men, and wished we were back home, far from thick round cheeses and thin square newspapers.

One evening in the first week in September, when it was raining as hard as it could rain, and when the wind was blowing as hard as it could blow, and was driving empty boxes and barrels, and old tin pails, and wash boilers, and castaway hats and runaway hats and lost hats, and other things across the prairie before it, Jack came into my office, where I was setting type (my printer having been blown away, along with the boxes and the hats), and after he had allowed the rain to run off his clothes and make little puddles like thin mud pies on the dusty floor, he said:

[Illustration: The Voyage First Suggested]