ghten or loosen
the pack on the trail. So, there you are, all set." And Uncle Dick
slapped old Billy on the hip as he stood groaning in great pretense of
suffering, at which old Billy walked forward a few steps and stood
still, awaiting the next victim in the train.

"That's tight as a drum," said Jesse, pushing at the loaded packs.

"Humph, you mean that old Billy's tight as a drum," said Uncle Dick.
"An old pack-horse will groan as though you were killing him, and will
blow up like a horned toad. Then maybe a half-hour later on the trail
all his ropes will be as loose as if he had lost a year's growth.
We'll have to go over all these packs just before we start down that
bank, or we may lose some of them. That's why we fastened the last end
of the hitch with a loop easy to pull out.

"A good pack-master," said Uncle Dick, "is worth as much as a colonel
in an army. He never has sore-backed horses, because he makes up his
packs well and keeps them tight. A shifting, wabbling pack is bad for
the horse. Why, you can pack almost anything on a horse--they even
took pianos on slings between four pack-horses in some of the mountain
mining-camps in Montana. And what do you suppose was the hardest thing
the old pack-train men had to carry in those days?"

"I don't know," said Rob, curiously. "What was it?"

"Quicksilver. That made more sore backs than anything else. They
carried it in flasks, and the jar or blow of the heavy liquid shifting
from side to side was bad on the horses. Finally they used to nest
these iron flasks in sideboards, which they could lash tight to the
saddles. This kept the sloshing of the quicksilver from hurting the
horses so much. Oh, they had all sorts of curious ways of packing
curious things. But a good pack-train would carry almost anything,
from a cook-stove to a chandelier, and not break either. They used
different hitches, but the one I have showed you is about as simple
and useful as any. Well, drive up the next horse now, Jess."

Thus, one after another, they finished loading up their pack-train;
and, Moise having put his camp outfit and his personal equipment on
the last horse, they stood ready for the trail.

"It'll be pretty bad getting down here," said Uncle Dick, "so I'll go
ahead with old Betsy. All you others had better stay behind and drive
the loose horses down over the bank. Don't let them break back on the
trail. Are you ready? Just watch how I take it, and don't be afraid."