Chapter XXI: The Mysterious Hollow

As he came into the open clearing by Uncle Jeb’s cabin, Westy could detect the smell of bacon frying crisp and brown. Uncle Jeb hailed him and good-naturedly asked if he had any trouble getting back.

“Not so’s you could notice it,” he retorted.

While they were eating supper he related to them his experience and discovery of the afternoon. Uncle Jeb listened intently and then cautioned the boys to be careful about going so far out on the cliff.

“Not only thet,” he said, “but yuh can’t allus tell when them birds’ll take it into their fool heads to make a new nest on t’other side where Westy wuz.”

They sat in breathless silence, as he told them many thrilling and hair-raising adventures of his boyhood days.

“What do yuh boys say we turn in now?” he concluded.

Indeed the boys did not need coaxing to turn in, for their eyes were already heavy with weariness and want of sleep.

They tumbled into their respective berths with goodwill and soon Sleep drew her mystical curtain about them and their first night in the bosom of the Rocky Mountains.

Uncle Jeb and the boys generally made a weekly visit to the Inn. As he and Ol’ Pop had much to say to one another as a rule, Artie and Westy would try to kill time by getting Ollie to talk. Between them they would hurl a veritable barrage of questions at his poor, meek-looking head, until one would imagine he would answer, if only to silence them.

Nothing, however, seemed to perturb his calm in the least. He was utterly unaware that any one was speaking at all, except for an occasional flicker of interest, visible only when Ol’ Pop’s name was mentioned.

On this particular early summer morning, Artie and Westy were sitting on the spacious porch reading some letters from home and many from Temple Camp, when Pop Burrows remarked he had “fetched them from town nigh onto three days ago. Could jes’ as well o’ let Ollie take ’em up to ye, but I thinks to meself that you’d be down afore long.

“Ollie, he generally takes hisself off for long hikes in the afternoons. Sez he never gits tired o’ climbin’ the hills. When he fust came, Uncle Jeb used to say as how it was durn funny, a tenderfoot like Ollie never got tired o’ climbin’ the hills every afternoon jes’ for pleasure. Well, after thet, I kinda feels Ollie out once ’n fer all. I sez, ‘Ollie, how come yer so fond of roamin’ the hills every day, you thet’s a tenderfoot?’ ‘Well,’ he sez to me, ‘I been brought up in de city; never outside it till I comes here, and when me woik is done I likes to go off by me lonesome with me pipe and sit quiet, that’s all.’ Thet’s all he ever told me about hisself,” continued Pop, “no more ’n no less. After thet we never bothered him and he never bothers us.” He looked toward Uncle Jeb as if for verification of his story.

Uncle Jeb nodded his assent between puffs of his pipe. Then he arose quietly as Ollie came around from the back of the Inn, leading the two mules who were bearing a fresh supply of provisions for the scouts.

Taking their leave of Ol’ Pop they were soon on their way, walking single file where the trail narrowed. Presently Westy called to Artie and told him of the word he had received from home.

They also talked of the news which they had heard from Temple Camp and this Uncle Jeb listened to with interest.

Roy Blakeley wrote that, as usual, Pee-wee Harris was doing good turns; that is, he started out to do them, but rarely accomplished his purpose without a series of mishaps intervening. “At any rate,” Roy concluded, “we’re not a bit envious of you fellows out there (Oh, no!) so long as we have Scout Harris to disturb the calm of a hot summer’s day.”

Just then they came out into the clearing by Eagle Lake and Uncle Jeb suggested that they sit for a while and rest, when their eagle friends announced their advent with a series of screeches.

Instead of disappearing beyond the cliff this time, one flew into a small hollow just underneath the precipice.

Before Artie could retract his words they were out: “Isn’t that where the surveyors disappeared, Uncle Jeb?”

Uncle Jeb was quiet for a while but then finally he answered softly: “Yes, my boy, ’n I always figgered somehow thet the holler is responsible. I cudn’t say jes’ why I do, but still thar’s no tellin’ ’bout them spooky lookin’ places after all!”