Chapter Seven.Several days were spent in a vain search for Charley. Armitage and Story said they feared that he must either have been killed by a buffalo, and his body devoured by wolves; or that he had been carried away by some small party of Indians who had been watching us, and had captured him, though afraid to attack our camp.Both Dick and I, however, could not bring ourselves to believe that he was dead. We were glad to find that old Folkard was of our opinion. He had known men, he said, who had wandered away from camp and been absent several weeks before they were found or managed to make their way back themselves. Charley had a good supply of ammunition, and being a fair shot, would be able to procure food. We begged Armitage and Dick to remain in the locality some time longer. This they consented to do. We were now in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains, where they might obtain a variety of sport, so that they had no cause to complain of their detention. My thoughts, as well as Dick’s, were entirely occupied by Charley, and we could take no interest inhunting. We, however, did our duty in trying to supply the camp with game.The chief part of our time was taken up in scouring the country in the hopes of discovering our young friend, or ascertaining the cause of his death.At length the old trapper bade us farewell, saying that he should strike away north, to a district where beavers abounded, for he could no longer spend his time in comparative idleness. We were sorry to lose him, for he was a capital companion, especially round the camp fire, when he indulged us in his quaint way with his numberless adventures and hair-breadth escapes, sufficient to make the hair of my old uncle, the Alderman, stand out from his head.Day after day went by. When we met Pierre and the Indians who had assisted us in the search, the same reply alone was forthcoming.“You see, it is hopeless,” said Jack to Dick Buntin. “Your young friend must have lost his life. I am very sorry, but we must be moving westward. It won’t do to detain Armitage longer. He is very good-natured, but from what he said to me yesterday, he will be starting away without us. He requires action. He is not happy, I suspect, from something which took place between him and Ellen Hargrave, so that we must decide what to do.”Dick pleaded hard for another day, still persisting in his belief that we should find Charley. Our Indian friends had promised should they discover any traces of him to send us word, but nothing had been heard from them.Dick and I had made a longer expedition than usual, and returned so tired, that the next morning we were utterly unable to set out. A day’s rest would, however, we thought, restore our strength. Towards the evening, while the remainder of the party were still away, Dick walked to a shady spot some distance from the camp, taking a large buffalo robe to lie upon, with a book, his pipe and gun.One of the Indians who had remained with us, had meantime made up a fire. I saw at length by my watch, that it was time to prepare for supper, and as Dick still acted as cook, I sent the Indian to summon him. The man had not gone long, when I heard him shout. Fearing that something was the matter, I hurried forward, when what was my dismay to see a huge grizzly standing on its hind legs, as if about to make its last fatal spring, close to Dick, who had no weapon in his hand with which to defend himself. I had brought my gun, but dared not fire for fear of killing my friend instead of the bear. Dick, however, seemed in no way dismayed, and as I got a little nearer, I saw that he held a large buffalo robe in both his hands. The Indian and I shouted in the hopes of distracting Bruin’s attention. Our cries were responded to by Armitage and Story, who at that moment providentially made their appearance. Still none of us dared to fire, though we approached nearer and nearer, hoping that the bear would postpone his spring until we could get near enough to shoot him through the head without injuring our friend. Presently the bear growling savagely, indicative of his intention to seize his victim, began to advance; when Dick, who had never for a moment withdrawn his eyes from the monster, in an instant threw the cloak over its head. He then springing back, ran off as hard as his legs could carry him, his example being imitated by the Indians. The bear in its struggles drew the cloak close over its eyes, when I fired and over it rolled with its legs in the air. Still it was not dead, and might at any moment be up again; and, more savage than ever from its wound, would be certain to attack us fiercely.Armitage and Story, making their way through the brushwood, had now got near enough to fire. They pulled their triggers at the same moment, while I quickly reloaded. It was fortunate that I did so, for notwithstanding its wounds, the bear, suddenly regaining its feet, made a dash at me who was nearest to it, and in another instant I should have been torn by its tremendous claws, when I fired and to my infinite satisfaction it again rolled over and, giving another convulsive struggle, lay dead.Dick thanked us for our timely assistance, and promised that he would never as long as he lived go to sleep away from the camp in a region infested by grizzlies.This was the first we had seen for some time, and the adventure was a caution to us to look out for them in future. With great reluctance on the part of Dick and me, we once more packed up and moved westward; still we did not abandon all hope that we should find our young friend. I, however, had lost the interest I had before felt in hunting, and would rather have gone back and contented myself with less exciting sport in one of the eastern states. As things turned out, it would have been better for all of us had we done so.We made a good show as we rode over the prairie, with our baggage mules, our led horses, mounted Indians, our Canadian guide and our four selves; so that no ordinary band of Redskins was likely to attack our party, unless they could take us by surprise, and against that it was our constant care effectually to guard by keeping a bright look-out during the day, and a careful watch over the camp at night. Our Indians knew very well that they would be the first victims should we be attacked.We were sure, in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains which we had now reached, to fall in with big-horns, elks and antelopes, as well as buffalo in the lower ground. We accordingly encamped in a beautiful spot with the lofty mountains rising above us, while below extended the prairie far away to the horizon. I must not stop to describe our various adventures. Dick continued indifferent to sport, but occasionally went out with me; while Armitage and Story shot together, and never returned without a big-horn or two, or an elk. One day they appeared leading or rather dragging along what looked like a mass of shaggy fur of a tawny colour. As they approached, I saw that their captive was a young bear, with its head thoroughly covered up with the skin of another animal of the same description. They were laughing heartily, and every now and then springing forward to avoid the rushes made at them by the little creature. On finding all its efforts vain, it at length stopped, and refused to move. They told me that they had shot the mother and then one of her cubs; that the other refusing to leave the body of its parent, they had time to take off the skin from the cub they had killed and had adroitly thrown it over the head of its brother, and that having a coil of rope they had managed to secure it. We hoped to tame our captive, but the moment the skin was taken off its head, darting at Jack, it gave him a severe bite in the leg, and nearly treated Armitage in the same manner, but fortunately he had a thick stick with which he gave the little brute so severe a blow on the nose, that it lay down, as we thought, in the sulks. We managed to tether it in a way effectually to prevent its escape, but the next morning we found, to our disappointment, that it was dead. The skins of the two animals were beautiful, their fur being very thick and long, and of a brown colour, with a stripe of darker hue along the back.Next day our friends having again set out, I was endeavouring to persuade Dick to accompany me in another direction, when one of the Indians brought word that a herd of buffalo were feeding in the plain below. I should have said that the country was beautiful in the extreme, with thick woods of cedar and rhododendron covering it in all directions. The forests were, however, easily traversed, as paths were made through them by the buffalo and elk, who following each other’s footsteps, had opened up bridle roads to all points of the compass. Feeling ashamed of not adding something to our store of provisions, when Dick declined accompanying me on the plea of not being up to work, I mounted my horse, and setoff alone, hoping to shoot a buffalo before going far. I soon came in sight of a couple of herds, one of cows and another of bulls. Most of the former were followed by calves and were out of condition, but seeing some fat animals among them, I made chase. When the cows began to run they were joined by the bulls, and the whole set off together, scampering along at a tremendous rate. I kept the fat cows in sight, however, as away they went. Lightly built and more active than the bulls, they took the lead. At length I was getting up with one of the former which I had singled out, when a big bull, blown by his unusual exercise, halted just between me and the cow, and lowering his head prepared to charge, when his horns would in an instant have ripped open the breast of my noble steed. As I saw it about to charge, a thought occurred to me. Holding my gun in my left hand, and giving my horse the rein, I bestowed a tremendous cut with my heavy riding-whip on his flanks, which made him spring to a height sufficient to have cleared a five-barred gate; and when the bull rushed forward, over its back he went, clearing it in the most beautiful style, his hinder feet just grazing its shaggy hair. The next moment, instead of being rolled over on the ground, I found myself (though without my hat) safe on the other side; while the bull, not knowing what had become of me, dashed forward bellowing loudly in an opposite direction. A few more strides brought me close to the cow, when standing up in my stirrups I fired, and the animal instantly rolled over dead. I at once reloaded, and made chase after another, which I was also fortunate enough to kill. The rest of the herd made their escape. Satisfied with the result of my hunt, I dismounted and took possession of the tongues and marrow-bones, as well as some portions of the meat, intending to send the Indians back for the remainder, should the carcases have escaped the scent of the wolves. The buffalo meat was highly appreciated; indeed we lived like fighting cocks, and had every reason to expect to do so while we remained in that region. Pierre, however, advised that we should proceed, as some bands of hostile Indians were sure, before long, to find out that we were in the neighbourhood, and would take an opportunity of cutting us off when separated from each other should they not venture to attack our camp. Armitage and Jack were, however, inclined to laugh at Pierre’s warnings. Jack too, who found his leg suffering from the bite that the little bear had given him, was disinclined to take a long journey. Dick, who had warned him from the first not to neglect the wound, took him under his care and insisted on his remaining quietly in camp for two or three days until he was well again. We employed the time in cleaning our arms, repairing our harness and clothes, and performing several other tasks such as the wear and tear of a hunter’s life from time to time renders necessary. We had long discussions in camp as to what course we should pursue, Pierre advising that we should strike northward, and then take one of the passes through the Rocky Mountains generally followed by the emigrants to California.Several days had passed away. Story was quite recovered, and we were once more encamped, not much to Pierre’s satisfaction, he declaring that we were still in a dangerous region, frequently visited by Apaches and other roving tribes, the deadly enemies of the pale-faces. Armitage and Story only laughed at his warnings, and even Dick felt much inclined to agree with them.We had, as before, proceeded in three parties, one of the Indians having accompanied Armitage, and Jack and three others going with Pierre, while the rest remained with Dick and me in camp. Evening was approaching, and none of our friends had returned. Dick had sent out one of the Indians to see if they were coming, while he and I prepared the supper. In a short time the scout returned with a long face. He had caught sight, he said, of a large party of strange Redskins; who, not knowing that they were discovered, were making their way in the direction of our camp, evidently endeavouring to keep themselves concealed. He advised that we should gallop off on our horses, and leave our baggage and the other animals to their fate, as it would be impossible to defend the camp against so overwhelming a force. To this neither Dick nor I was inclined to agree, though of course it made us anxious for the arrival of our friends, when we hoped, by showing a bold front, to drive back the enemy.We at once brought in our horses and mules, and tethered them in the rear of the camp; then calling on our Indians to assist us, we felled a couple of trees, which we placed so as to form a barricade in front. It would afford us but a slight protection, but it was better than nothing.We now looked out with more anxiety than ever for our friends, for they certainly ought to have returned to the camp some time before this. It was important not to be surprised, and knowing the stealthy way in which the savages were likely to approach, we were aware that any moment we might hear their fearful war-whoops, and find ourselves engaged in a desperate struggle for life. To prevent this, Dick proposed sending out the Indians to scout and ascertain the exact position of the enemy. They went more willingly than I should have supposed; but I remembered not being very well satisfied with the expression of their countenances. Dick and I were thus left alone in camp. To save ourselves from being shot down without warning, we took up our position behind the logs, with the spare rifles by our sides. Here we sat, expecting every moment the return of our Indians. We waited in vain. Darkness was coming on. Our position was indeed critical. If the savages, as reported by the scout, were in the neighbourhood, at any moment they might be down upon us. We now began to fear that our Indians had fallen into their hands. Perhaps, also, such might have been the fate of our friends. We had been sitting thus for an hour or more, and had become very hungry, when Dick proposed going to the fire to obtain some venison which had lone been roasting there. He brought it, and I need not say that it was devoured with considerable satisfaction. “Another piece won’t do us any harm,” I observed, as I made my way towards the fire. I was returning, when what was my dismay to see half-a-dozen dark forms leap over the barricade and place themselves between Dick and me. I sprang towards our rifles, one of which Dick was in the act of grasping, to have a fight for life, when a savage knocking it out of his hand three others sprang upon him. The remainder throwing themselves upon me, we were in an instant prisoners. I fully expected the next moment to have my scalp taken off my head, and it was some satisfaction to find that it was allowed to remain on.“I hope the other fellows have escaped,” said Dick; “we might, by giving a shout, warn them of their danger; and if Pierre joins them, they might manage to get hold of some of the horses.”As he spoke, he shouted at the top of his voice, and I joined him, crying out—“Keep away from the camp!”No reply came. The Indians, instead of trying to stop us, only laughed; and, from the voices we heard around, we knew there must be many more of them.Having bound our arms behind us, our captors sat themselves down to examine and consume the food we had provided for the rest of the party, and then proceeded to inspect the contents of our packs. While they were thus employed, a shout was raised, and shortly after another, when several Indians appeared, dragging Armitage and Jack along with them.Still Pierre was at liberty; and we hoped that he might escape and give notice of our fate, or form some plan for our liberation. Great, therefore, was our disappointment when he too, shortly afterwards, was brought into camp. What had become of our Indians we could not tell. They had, we concluded, however, either been captured or deserted us.Our captors, after a long consultation, carried us all a short distance from the camp to a clump of trees, to the trunks of which they bound us in a way which made it impossible to move either our arms or legs, when, having thus tied us up, they returned to our camp to examine and divide the spoil.“We are in a bad case, I am afraid,” said Armitage; “the savages have proved themselves more cunning than I had supposed, for they were upon Jack and me before we had time to lift our rifles to our shoulders.”“We might try to bribe them to let us off,” I observed.“Very little chance of their doing that; they’ll help themselves to everything we possess, and won’t trust to our promises,” said Jack.“They have the ugly custom of torturing prisoners before they kill them,” said Dick. “I’m very glad Charley escaped our fate, poor fellow provided he hasn’t met with a worse one.”I made no remark, though I was thinking all the time of various plans. I was anxious to hear what Pierre would say.“Better tell them we English pale-faces,” he observed at last; “dey kill us if dey like; but if dey do, our great Queen hunt up every man jack of dem, and hang dem.”I was very much inclined to agree with Pierre that our best chance of escaping was to make the savages understand that we belonged to the palefaces over the frontier, of whom they might possibly have heard, and that our Sovereign always punished those who injured her subjects.The savages, however, at present, gave us no opportunity of addressing them; but we could see them unpacking our valises, pulling to pieces out well-made-up packs, overhauling our cooking utensils, apparently appropriating various articles, not, however, without a considerable amount of talking and gesticulation. They then put on our buffalo meat and venison to cook, and began laughing and jeering at us as they ate it. At length they discovered several packages which had before escaped their notice, having been hidden in the grass. Among them was a case containing brandy; but as we kept it locked, it was some time before they managed to break it open with their axes. On finding that it contained bottles, they raised a shout of joy; and one being forthwith opened by knocking off the neck, the savage who had performed the operation poured some of the contents down his throat. Uttering a howl of satisfaction, he was about to take a second draught, when another seized it, and it was rapidly passed on, until it was empty. Another and another bottle was treated in the same way, although the chief of the party appeared to be urging his followers to take no more for the present; but to this they evidently did not agree; and while his back was turned, two more bottles were abstracted. On seeing this, he seized one of them, and poured no small part of the contents down his own throat, apparently fearing that his companions would drink it up and leave him none. The result which was to be expected followed; but they had swallowed the liquor too rapidly to render them immediately helpless, though it excited their fiercest passions; and to our horror, getting on their legs, they drew their tomahawks and approached us with the evident intention of taking our lives. Before, however, they had made many steps towards us, they sank to the ground; while others—with the bump of appropriativeness—took possession of all the goods within their reach. This was seen by the more sanguinarily disposed of the party, who turned their rage towards their companions, and, rushing on them, attempted to retake the articles they considered theirs. A fearful scuffle ensued: some, it appeared to us, were struck dead, or desperately wounded; but in the uncertain light afforded by the fire we could not exactly see what had happened. We could only make out that the whole party were quickly stretched on the ground, the victors and the vanquished lying side by side, including the chief, who appeared to be as helpless as the rest.At length their shouts and groans were silenced. Not a sound reached our ears. Now was our opportunity; but in vain we endeavoured to break loose from our bonds. The savages had fastened them too securely to enable us to liberate ourselves. Dick made desperate efforts to reach with his mouth the rope which secured his arms.“If I could but once get my teeth to it, I would soon bite it through,” he exclaimed.But again and again he tried to no purpose. We all followed his example, with the same result. In the morning, the savages would too probably recover, and revenge themselves on our heads for the death of their companions whom they themselves had killed. Hour after hour went by, and each brought us nearer to the moment that we must expect a fearful death.
Several days were spent in a vain search for Charley. Armitage and Story said they feared that he must either have been killed by a buffalo, and his body devoured by wolves; or that he had been carried away by some small party of Indians who had been watching us, and had captured him, though afraid to attack our camp.
Both Dick and I, however, could not bring ourselves to believe that he was dead. We were glad to find that old Folkard was of our opinion. He had known men, he said, who had wandered away from camp and been absent several weeks before they were found or managed to make their way back themselves. Charley had a good supply of ammunition, and being a fair shot, would be able to procure food. We begged Armitage and Dick to remain in the locality some time longer. This they consented to do. We were now in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains, where they might obtain a variety of sport, so that they had no cause to complain of their detention. My thoughts, as well as Dick’s, were entirely occupied by Charley, and we could take no interest inhunting. We, however, did our duty in trying to supply the camp with game.
The chief part of our time was taken up in scouring the country in the hopes of discovering our young friend, or ascertaining the cause of his death.
At length the old trapper bade us farewell, saying that he should strike away north, to a district where beavers abounded, for he could no longer spend his time in comparative idleness. We were sorry to lose him, for he was a capital companion, especially round the camp fire, when he indulged us in his quaint way with his numberless adventures and hair-breadth escapes, sufficient to make the hair of my old uncle, the Alderman, stand out from his head.
Day after day went by. When we met Pierre and the Indians who had assisted us in the search, the same reply alone was forthcoming.
“You see, it is hopeless,” said Jack to Dick Buntin. “Your young friend must have lost his life. I am very sorry, but we must be moving westward. It won’t do to detain Armitage longer. He is very good-natured, but from what he said to me yesterday, he will be starting away without us. He requires action. He is not happy, I suspect, from something which took place between him and Ellen Hargrave, so that we must decide what to do.”
Dick pleaded hard for another day, still persisting in his belief that we should find Charley. Our Indian friends had promised should they discover any traces of him to send us word, but nothing had been heard from them.
Dick and I had made a longer expedition than usual, and returned so tired, that the next morning we were utterly unable to set out. A day’s rest would, however, we thought, restore our strength. Towards the evening, while the remainder of the party were still away, Dick walked to a shady spot some distance from the camp, taking a large buffalo robe to lie upon, with a book, his pipe and gun.
One of the Indians who had remained with us, had meantime made up a fire. I saw at length by my watch, that it was time to prepare for supper, and as Dick still acted as cook, I sent the Indian to summon him. The man had not gone long, when I heard him shout. Fearing that something was the matter, I hurried forward, when what was my dismay to see a huge grizzly standing on its hind legs, as if about to make its last fatal spring, close to Dick, who had no weapon in his hand with which to defend himself. I had brought my gun, but dared not fire for fear of killing my friend instead of the bear. Dick, however, seemed in no way dismayed, and as I got a little nearer, I saw that he held a large buffalo robe in both his hands. The Indian and I shouted in the hopes of distracting Bruin’s attention. Our cries were responded to by Armitage and Story, who at that moment providentially made their appearance. Still none of us dared to fire, though we approached nearer and nearer, hoping that the bear would postpone his spring until we could get near enough to shoot him through the head without injuring our friend. Presently the bear growling savagely, indicative of his intention to seize his victim, began to advance; when Dick, who had never for a moment withdrawn his eyes from the monster, in an instant threw the cloak over its head. He then springing back, ran off as hard as his legs could carry him, his example being imitated by the Indians. The bear in its struggles drew the cloak close over its eyes, when I fired and over it rolled with its legs in the air. Still it was not dead, and might at any moment be up again; and, more savage than ever from its wound, would be certain to attack us fiercely.
Armitage and Story, making their way through the brushwood, had now got near enough to fire. They pulled their triggers at the same moment, while I quickly reloaded. It was fortunate that I did so, for notwithstanding its wounds, the bear, suddenly regaining its feet, made a dash at me who was nearest to it, and in another instant I should have been torn by its tremendous claws, when I fired and to my infinite satisfaction it again rolled over and, giving another convulsive struggle, lay dead.
Dick thanked us for our timely assistance, and promised that he would never as long as he lived go to sleep away from the camp in a region infested by grizzlies.
This was the first we had seen for some time, and the adventure was a caution to us to look out for them in future. With great reluctance on the part of Dick and me, we once more packed up and moved westward; still we did not abandon all hope that we should find our young friend. I, however, had lost the interest I had before felt in hunting, and would rather have gone back and contented myself with less exciting sport in one of the eastern states. As things turned out, it would have been better for all of us had we done so.
We made a good show as we rode over the prairie, with our baggage mules, our led horses, mounted Indians, our Canadian guide and our four selves; so that no ordinary band of Redskins was likely to attack our party, unless they could take us by surprise, and against that it was our constant care effectually to guard by keeping a bright look-out during the day, and a careful watch over the camp at night. Our Indians knew very well that they would be the first victims should we be attacked.
We were sure, in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains which we had now reached, to fall in with big-horns, elks and antelopes, as well as buffalo in the lower ground. We accordingly encamped in a beautiful spot with the lofty mountains rising above us, while below extended the prairie far away to the horizon. I must not stop to describe our various adventures. Dick continued indifferent to sport, but occasionally went out with me; while Armitage and Story shot together, and never returned without a big-horn or two, or an elk. One day they appeared leading or rather dragging along what looked like a mass of shaggy fur of a tawny colour. As they approached, I saw that their captive was a young bear, with its head thoroughly covered up with the skin of another animal of the same description. They were laughing heartily, and every now and then springing forward to avoid the rushes made at them by the little creature. On finding all its efforts vain, it at length stopped, and refused to move. They told me that they had shot the mother and then one of her cubs; that the other refusing to leave the body of its parent, they had time to take off the skin from the cub they had killed and had adroitly thrown it over the head of its brother, and that having a coil of rope they had managed to secure it. We hoped to tame our captive, but the moment the skin was taken off its head, darting at Jack, it gave him a severe bite in the leg, and nearly treated Armitage in the same manner, but fortunately he had a thick stick with which he gave the little brute so severe a blow on the nose, that it lay down, as we thought, in the sulks. We managed to tether it in a way effectually to prevent its escape, but the next morning we found, to our disappointment, that it was dead. The skins of the two animals were beautiful, their fur being very thick and long, and of a brown colour, with a stripe of darker hue along the back.
Next day our friends having again set out, I was endeavouring to persuade Dick to accompany me in another direction, when one of the Indians brought word that a herd of buffalo were feeding in the plain below. I should have said that the country was beautiful in the extreme, with thick woods of cedar and rhododendron covering it in all directions. The forests were, however, easily traversed, as paths were made through them by the buffalo and elk, who following each other’s footsteps, had opened up bridle roads to all points of the compass. Feeling ashamed of not adding something to our store of provisions, when Dick declined accompanying me on the plea of not being up to work, I mounted my horse, and setoff alone, hoping to shoot a buffalo before going far. I soon came in sight of a couple of herds, one of cows and another of bulls. Most of the former were followed by calves and were out of condition, but seeing some fat animals among them, I made chase. When the cows began to run they were joined by the bulls, and the whole set off together, scampering along at a tremendous rate. I kept the fat cows in sight, however, as away they went. Lightly built and more active than the bulls, they took the lead. At length I was getting up with one of the former which I had singled out, when a big bull, blown by his unusual exercise, halted just between me and the cow, and lowering his head prepared to charge, when his horns would in an instant have ripped open the breast of my noble steed. As I saw it about to charge, a thought occurred to me. Holding my gun in my left hand, and giving my horse the rein, I bestowed a tremendous cut with my heavy riding-whip on his flanks, which made him spring to a height sufficient to have cleared a five-barred gate; and when the bull rushed forward, over its back he went, clearing it in the most beautiful style, his hinder feet just grazing its shaggy hair. The next moment, instead of being rolled over on the ground, I found myself (though without my hat) safe on the other side; while the bull, not knowing what had become of me, dashed forward bellowing loudly in an opposite direction. A few more strides brought me close to the cow, when standing up in my stirrups I fired, and the animal instantly rolled over dead. I at once reloaded, and made chase after another, which I was also fortunate enough to kill. The rest of the herd made their escape. Satisfied with the result of my hunt, I dismounted and took possession of the tongues and marrow-bones, as well as some portions of the meat, intending to send the Indians back for the remainder, should the carcases have escaped the scent of the wolves. The buffalo meat was highly appreciated; indeed we lived like fighting cocks, and had every reason to expect to do so while we remained in that region. Pierre, however, advised that we should proceed, as some bands of hostile Indians were sure, before long, to find out that we were in the neighbourhood, and would take an opportunity of cutting us off when separated from each other should they not venture to attack our camp. Armitage and Jack were, however, inclined to laugh at Pierre’s warnings. Jack too, who found his leg suffering from the bite that the little bear had given him, was disinclined to take a long journey. Dick, who had warned him from the first not to neglect the wound, took him under his care and insisted on his remaining quietly in camp for two or three days until he was well again. We employed the time in cleaning our arms, repairing our harness and clothes, and performing several other tasks such as the wear and tear of a hunter’s life from time to time renders necessary. We had long discussions in camp as to what course we should pursue, Pierre advising that we should strike northward, and then take one of the passes through the Rocky Mountains generally followed by the emigrants to California.
Several days had passed away. Story was quite recovered, and we were once more encamped, not much to Pierre’s satisfaction, he declaring that we were still in a dangerous region, frequently visited by Apaches and other roving tribes, the deadly enemies of the pale-faces. Armitage and Story only laughed at his warnings, and even Dick felt much inclined to agree with them.
We had, as before, proceeded in three parties, one of the Indians having accompanied Armitage, and Jack and three others going with Pierre, while the rest remained with Dick and me in camp. Evening was approaching, and none of our friends had returned. Dick had sent out one of the Indians to see if they were coming, while he and I prepared the supper. In a short time the scout returned with a long face. He had caught sight, he said, of a large party of strange Redskins; who, not knowing that they were discovered, were making their way in the direction of our camp, evidently endeavouring to keep themselves concealed. He advised that we should gallop off on our horses, and leave our baggage and the other animals to their fate, as it would be impossible to defend the camp against so overwhelming a force. To this neither Dick nor I was inclined to agree, though of course it made us anxious for the arrival of our friends, when we hoped, by showing a bold front, to drive back the enemy.
We at once brought in our horses and mules, and tethered them in the rear of the camp; then calling on our Indians to assist us, we felled a couple of trees, which we placed so as to form a barricade in front. It would afford us but a slight protection, but it was better than nothing.
We now looked out with more anxiety than ever for our friends, for they certainly ought to have returned to the camp some time before this. It was important not to be surprised, and knowing the stealthy way in which the savages were likely to approach, we were aware that any moment we might hear their fearful war-whoops, and find ourselves engaged in a desperate struggle for life. To prevent this, Dick proposed sending out the Indians to scout and ascertain the exact position of the enemy. They went more willingly than I should have supposed; but I remembered not being very well satisfied with the expression of their countenances. Dick and I were thus left alone in camp. To save ourselves from being shot down without warning, we took up our position behind the logs, with the spare rifles by our sides. Here we sat, expecting every moment the return of our Indians. We waited in vain. Darkness was coming on. Our position was indeed critical. If the savages, as reported by the scout, were in the neighbourhood, at any moment they might be down upon us. We now began to fear that our Indians had fallen into their hands. Perhaps, also, such might have been the fate of our friends. We had been sitting thus for an hour or more, and had become very hungry, when Dick proposed going to the fire to obtain some venison which had lone been roasting there. He brought it, and I need not say that it was devoured with considerable satisfaction. “Another piece won’t do us any harm,” I observed, as I made my way towards the fire. I was returning, when what was my dismay to see half-a-dozen dark forms leap over the barricade and place themselves between Dick and me. I sprang towards our rifles, one of which Dick was in the act of grasping, to have a fight for life, when a savage knocking it out of his hand three others sprang upon him. The remainder throwing themselves upon me, we were in an instant prisoners. I fully expected the next moment to have my scalp taken off my head, and it was some satisfaction to find that it was allowed to remain on.
“I hope the other fellows have escaped,” said Dick; “we might, by giving a shout, warn them of their danger; and if Pierre joins them, they might manage to get hold of some of the horses.”
As he spoke, he shouted at the top of his voice, and I joined him, crying out—
“Keep away from the camp!”
No reply came. The Indians, instead of trying to stop us, only laughed; and, from the voices we heard around, we knew there must be many more of them.
Having bound our arms behind us, our captors sat themselves down to examine and consume the food we had provided for the rest of the party, and then proceeded to inspect the contents of our packs. While they were thus employed, a shout was raised, and shortly after another, when several Indians appeared, dragging Armitage and Jack along with them.
Still Pierre was at liberty; and we hoped that he might escape and give notice of our fate, or form some plan for our liberation. Great, therefore, was our disappointment when he too, shortly afterwards, was brought into camp. What had become of our Indians we could not tell. They had, we concluded, however, either been captured or deserted us.
Our captors, after a long consultation, carried us all a short distance from the camp to a clump of trees, to the trunks of which they bound us in a way which made it impossible to move either our arms or legs, when, having thus tied us up, they returned to our camp to examine and divide the spoil.
“We are in a bad case, I am afraid,” said Armitage; “the savages have proved themselves more cunning than I had supposed, for they were upon Jack and me before we had time to lift our rifles to our shoulders.”
“We might try to bribe them to let us off,” I observed.
“Very little chance of their doing that; they’ll help themselves to everything we possess, and won’t trust to our promises,” said Jack.
“They have the ugly custom of torturing prisoners before they kill them,” said Dick. “I’m very glad Charley escaped our fate, poor fellow provided he hasn’t met with a worse one.”
I made no remark, though I was thinking all the time of various plans. I was anxious to hear what Pierre would say.
“Better tell them we English pale-faces,” he observed at last; “dey kill us if dey like; but if dey do, our great Queen hunt up every man jack of dem, and hang dem.”
I was very much inclined to agree with Pierre that our best chance of escaping was to make the savages understand that we belonged to the palefaces over the frontier, of whom they might possibly have heard, and that our Sovereign always punished those who injured her subjects.
The savages, however, at present, gave us no opportunity of addressing them; but we could see them unpacking our valises, pulling to pieces out well-made-up packs, overhauling our cooking utensils, apparently appropriating various articles, not, however, without a considerable amount of talking and gesticulation. They then put on our buffalo meat and venison to cook, and began laughing and jeering at us as they ate it. At length they discovered several packages which had before escaped their notice, having been hidden in the grass. Among them was a case containing brandy; but as we kept it locked, it was some time before they managed to break it open with their axes. On finding that it contained bottles, they raised a shout of joy; and one being forthwith opened by knocking off the neck, the savage who had performed the operation poured some of the contents down his throat. Uttering a howl of satisfaction, he was about to take a second draught, when another seized it, and it was rapidly passed on, until it was empty. Another and another bottle was treated in the same way, although the chief of the party appeared to be urging his followers to take no more for the present; but to this they evidently did not agree; and while his back was turned, two more bottles were abstracted. On seeing this, he seized one of them, and poured no small part of the contents down his own throat, apparently fearing that his companions would drink it up and leave him none. The result which was to be expected followed; but they had swallowed the liquor too rapidly to render them immediately helpless, though it excited their fiercest passions; and to our horror, getting on their legs, they drew their tomahawks and approached us with the evident intention of taking our lives. Before, however, they had made many steps towards us, they sank to the ground; while others—with the bump of appropriativeness—took possession of all the goods within their reach. This was seen by the more sanguinarily disposed of the party, who turned their rage towards their companions, and, rushing on them, attempted to retake the articles they considered theirs. A fearful scuffle ensued: some, it appeared to us, were struck dead, or desperately wounded; but in the uncertain light afforded by the fire we could not exactly see what had happened. We could only make out that the whole party were quickly stretched on the ground, the victors and the vanquished lying side by side, including the chief, who appeared to be as helpless as the rest.
At length their shouts and groans were silenced. Not a sound reached our ears. Now was our opportunity; but in vain we endeavoured to break loose from our bonds. The savages had fastened them too securely to enable us to liberate ourselves. Dick made desperate efforts to reach with his mouth the rope which secured his arms.
“If I could but once get my teeth to it, I would soon bite it through,” he exclaimed.
But again and again he tried to no purpose. We all followed his example, with the same result. In the morning, the savages would too probably recover, and revenge themselves on our heads for the death of their companions whom they themselves had killed. Hour after hour went by, and each brought us nearer to the moment that we must expect a fearful death.
Chapter Eight.We and the savage Redskins were both utterly helpless; they from being overcome by liquor, we from having our arms firmly bound to the trees. All the efforts we had made to liberate ourselves had only tended to draw more tightly the thongs; while we were left to contemplate the dreadful fate to which we were doomed as soon as the savages had recovered from the fumes of the spirits they had swallowed. All sorts of horrible ideas passed through my mind. Should a pack of wolves come to the camp, they might, helpless as we were, tear us to pieces, as well as the unconscious Indians. It would be a worse fate than any the savages might inflict upon us. Scarcely had the idea entered my brain, than the well-known howls and yelps of the animals I dreaded reached my ears. Louder and louder they grew. They were approaching the camp. In a few minutes they would be upon us. It was no fancy of my brain, for my companions heard them also. Darkness prevented us from seeing each other’s countenances; but I could distinguish Dick, who was nearest me, again making efforts to free himself, and he could not help crying out in desperation when he found himself foiled as before. The wolves were close upon us, when presently we heard the tramp of a horse’s feet, and one of our own animals, which either Armitage or Jack had been riding, and from whose back the Indians had neglected to remove the saddle dashed by, closely pursued by a pack of large wolves, who intent on the chase did not regard us. I saw the head of an Indian lifted up for a moment, awakened to partial consciousness by the yelping of the wolves and the tramp of the horse; but perhaps the savage fancied he was dreaming, for the next moment his head again sank to the ground. We were preserved for the moment, but what would happen should the wolves succeed in pulling down and devouring the horse? They would, to a certainty, return and attack us, as we had feared; or, even if they did not, the Indians would be recovering from their debauch. I could only hope that they had not consumed all the liquor, and that the first to awaken would take another pull at the bottles. In spite of our fearful position, a drowsiness began to steal over me, produced perhaps by exhaustion. I even now do not like to think of those dreadful hours, when my mind dwelt on the various tortures the savages were wont to inflict on their helpless prisoners. I fully expected that arrows would be shot at my limbs while all vital parts were avoided; to have my flesh burnt with hot irons; to be scalped; to suffer the most lingering and painful of deaths. In vain I tried to banish such thoughts, and to encourage the stupor stealing over me. At length I had almost succeeded, though I was not really asleep, when I heard a voice whisper in my ear, “Do not move or speak when you find the thongs cut.”The next instant I was free. The darkness prevented me seeing clearly what was happening to my companions, but I could distinguish a figure stealing along the ground, and appearing behind each of them.“Now friends! you have your choice, either to cut the throats of the Redskins as they lie, or to catch the horses and put a wide space between them and yourselves before daybreak,” said a voice which I recognised as that of old Folkard—“don’t trust those villains, they may not be as fast asleep as you fancy. If they hear you moving they may be on their feet again before you have had time to pass your knives across their throats.”“Savages as they are, I would not for one moment dream of killing them, whatever they intended to do to us,” said Jack.Armitage and Story agreed with him, as did I. We therefore at once resolved to steal off as soon as we had recovered our rifles, the only weapons of which we had been deprived; and though they were close to where our captors were sleeping, they might easily be reached. Our plan was then to try and get hold of our horses, and when they were secured we might recover the remainder of our property and deprive the Indians of their arms. We should thus teach them a lesson of mercy; for when they recovered their senses they could not fail to see how completely they had been in our power, and that we might have put the whole of them to death had we been so disposed.The old trapper volunteered to manage the most dangerous part of the undertaking, that of recovering our rifles. Telling us to remain where we were, apparently still bound to the trees, he crept forward on hands and knees, disappearing in the surrounding gloom. Not a sound did we hear until he came back, carrying in either hand a rifle, which he placed at our feet. He then made a second trip, which was as successful as the first; but the Indians’ spears and several of our spare rifles had still to be obtained. He went very cautiously to work, for he was evidently not at all confident that one of the Indians might not awake. I would gladly have assisted him, had he not urged us to remain quiet. I felt greatly relieved when he at length returned with the last rifles.“But we want our saddles!” whispered Dick.I told Folkard where to find them.“You shall have them,” he answered, and again set off. I much feared that he might be discovered, as he would have to go into the camp itself, and the slightest sound might awaken our enemies.We waited and waited: again I felt a strong inclination to steal forward and assist him. Just as I was about to do so, he reappeared bringing two saddles and bridles.Still it was of consequence, if we could manage it, to possess ourselves of the Indians’ bows and spears. I again offered to accompany the trapper. He thought a moment.“It may be done,” he said, “if you step cautiously, for they are more soundly asleep than I had supposed; but, if any of them should awake, you must be prepared to knock them on the head—our own safety will demand it.”I agreed to this, hoping that the contingency might not arrive. We set out and soon reached the camp. So sound asleep did they appear, that I believe even had we trodden on them, they could not have been aroused. They lay where they had fallen in their drunken fits, in every variety of attitude. We each possessed ourselves of two tomahawks for our defence, and all the bows we could find; and, carrying them under our arms, returned to our companions. Folkard immediately cut the strings and broke off the ends of the bows. We had thus far been more successful than we had anticipated.We now, having recovered our weapons and twosaddles,—for the Indians had left the others on the backs of the horses,—glided behind the trees to which we had been bound, and stole off, cautiously following the footsteps of old Folkard, who led the way.“I left my horse down in the hollow yonder,” said the trapper; “we will get him first, and then I’ll try and help catch yours; they are not far off I suspect. It will be daylight soon, and we have no time to lose.”Several more minutes were spent before we reached the spot where old Folkard’s horse was securely tethered. He having mounted, we set out in search of our own steeds.“It is just possible that the Indians may have left one of their number to watch their horses as well as ours, and if so, it will be necessary to either capture or kill the man,” said Dick.Unwilling as we were to put to death any of our savage enemies, even in our own defence, we saw the necessity of doing as Dick proposed.Greatly to our satisfaction, as we approached a glade, the whinny of a horse was heard, and Armitage’s favourite steed came trotting up to him. We immediately put on its saddle and bridle. Pierre’s and mine were still wanting. His had probably been torn to pieces by the wolves, but we still had a chance of getting mine. I was almost in despair, when to my joy it came up, and I was quickly on its back. Pierre was very unhappy at delaying us.At length old Folkard observed—“Jump up behind me, we’ll soon catch a horse for you; the Indians had a lot of animals with them, and we’ll take one of theirs if we can’t find yours.”By this time morning had dawned, and we had no longer any fear of encountering our enemies. We rode on to where old Folkard told us he expected to find the horses.Surmounting a slight elevation, we soon caught sight of a score of animals, evidently those of the Indians. To catch them was no easy matter, for just at the moment we appeared they seemed to be seized by a sudden panic, and began prancing and rearing in the strangest fashion. We dashed forward, and, as they saw us coming, off they started across the prairie at a rate which would have rendered pursuit utterly hopeless.We had now to settle what course to pursue. Should we return to the camp and take possession of our property, or put as many miles as we could between ourselves and the Indians?On calculating, however, the quantity of liquor among our stores, we arrived at the conclusion that there was enough to keep the Indians drunk for another day or two, and that we should probably find them as helpless as before. We accordingly kept our rifles ready for instant service, and rode towards our camp. On our way we found our mules, which according to their usual custom had not mixed with the horses. Pierre mounted one of them, and led the rest. The loud snores and perfect silence around where the Indians lay showed us that they had not recovered from their debauch. While two of our party stood guard, ready to deal with any who might come to their senses, the rest of us loaded the mules with our goods, including two remaining bottles of spirits.Folkard proposed leaving these to prevent the enemy from pursuing us. “There is no fear of their doing that, for they have neither horses nor arms,” observed Dick. “They may consider themselves fortunate in escaping with their lives.” We could scarcely help laughing at the thought of their astonishment when, on coming to themselves, they should find how completely the tables had been turned: we hoped they would duly appreciate the mercy shown to them. We now rode off, thankful for the happy termination of our adventure.We found that the old trapper had been very successful and wished to turn his steps eastward.“I should be glad of your company, friends,” he said, “in the first place; and in the second I don’t think it would be safe for you to remain in this region, as the rest of the tribe may consider themselves insulted, and, ungrateful for the mercy shown their people, may endeavour to cut you off. When the Redskins have made up their minds to do a thing, they’ll do it if they can, however long they may have to wait.”We all agreed that, although not frightened by the Indians, we had had enough of fighting and hunting for the present. We accordingly made up our minds to accompany old Folkard. We felt that, in gratitude to him for having preserved our lives, we were bound to do as he wished.Having reached the spot where he had left his mules with his traps and peltries, we turned our horses’ heads eastward. As we rode along he told us that he had come upon our trail, and that soon afterwards he had fallen in with one which he knew must be made by an Indian war-party, and feeling sure that they intended us mischief he had followed them up. He had scarcely expected, however, to find us still alive; but having stolen up to the camp, he saw the state to which our liquor had fortunately reduced our captors, and had at once formed the plan for liberating us so happily carried out. One of Dick’s first questions was about Charley. The old trapper replied that he had failed to hear of him; but he still held out hopes that our friend might have escaped, and that some well-disposed Indians might have spared his life, and taken care of him, hoping to induce him to join their tribe, according to a by no means unusual custom among them.This idea somewhat cheered up the worthy lieutenant’s spirits, and made him unwilling to return eastward; still, as he could not remain by himself, he agreed to accompany us. The journey appeared very long. For the first few days we pushed forward to get beyond the reach of the Indians, in case they should fall in with any of their tribe and venture to pursue us. After this we were compelled, for the sake of our horses, to make more easy stages. We had also to halt for the purpose of providing ourselves with meat; but as we shot only for the pot, that caused us no great delay.At last we reached Saint Louis, where we spent several months enjoying the hospitality of numerous friends to whom we had letters of introduction. For a time we were looked upon as heroes on a small scale by society; but probably the hunters and trappers who frequent that city would have considered our adventures as every-day occurrences and scarcely worth talking about.Old Folkard, having disposed of his peltries, and obtained new traps and a fresh outfit, started westward in the course of a fortnight, declaring that he could not breathe among the bricks and mortar. He promised that he would not fail to look out for Charley, for whose recovery, however, even Dick, by this time, had begun to despair. We were beginning to get a little tired of civilised ways and to sigh for the wild life of the prairie, when Armitage received a letter calling him to New York to meet an agent.“I should like to continue the expedition I began with you,” he said, “and I shall esteem it a favour if you will wait for my return; I shall not be longer than I can help.”His request, made in so courteous a way, was not to be refused. We all consented to stop. Week after week went by, and Armitage was still delayed; but as we had remained so long, we agreed to wait until he returned, though our stay was double the length we intended. We were employed in adding to our outfit such articles as, from our experience, we considered useful. At length Armitage rejoined us, and we were once moreen route. From the way his Indians had behaved when it came to a pinch, he had resolved to take no more. Besides Pierre, who was accompanied by another Canadian, we had a Yankee trapper yclept “Long Sam,” who, according to his own showing, was likely to prove of far more value than half-a-dozen Indians. He was ready for anything—to hunt on horseback, to shoot on foot, or to trap beavers. We had been travelling on some time when Armitage began to talk of Tillydrone, and suggested that, as it was not far out of our way, it would be but courteous to pay a visit there and inquire after the family who had treated us so hospitably. He said not a word, however, about Miss Hargrave, nor from the tone of his voice would anyone have suspected that he was thinking of her.When Long Sam heard us mention the place, he exclaimed—“Why, that’s wha’r Praeger used to live, and it was burnt with mighty near the whole of the property when the forest caught fire last fall, though he and his family escaped. I heard say that they were going to move westward, and they must be on their journey by this time, I guess.”Armitage questioned and cross-questioned his informant, and seemed perfectly satisfied with his statement. After this he expressed no further wish to visit Tillydrone.We had been travelling on for more than a month, when we once more found ourselves among the wild and grand scenery in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains. We encamped not far from a spot we had before occupied, where we knew an abundance of game was to be found. This time we had determined that nothing should turn us back until the western coast was reached. We were now enabled to detect the trails of animals as well as of men, an art indeed in which Pierre and Sam were equal to the Indians themselves. As we had camped pretty early, we started in different directions, hoping to bring in a good supply of meat, of which our consumption was considerable, Long Sam declaring when really hungry, that he could eat half a buffalo at a sitting—I wonder he didn’t say a whole one. We had espied some big-horns on the rocky heights in the distance, and were making our way towards them, when Sam exclaimed—“A white man has passed this way, though those are the marks of moccasins, but no Indian treads in that fashion.”I agreed with him, and soon afterwards we came upon a pool out of which a stream ran to the eastward. Sam was not long before he ferreted out several beaver-traps, and, examining one of them, pronounced it of the best make, and belonging to a white trapper. Of course we allowed it to remain unchanged. We thought of old Folkard, but scarcely expected to fall in with him again. We were making our way through a wood, along a ridge with a valley below us, when, looking through a gap in the trees, I caught sight of two persons, the one seated, supporting the head of another, who was stretched on the ground on his knees. Though I was too far off to distinguish their features, I saw by the dress of one that he was a trapper, but could not make out the other. On coming nearer, however, I recognised old Folkard; but who was the other? His cheeks were hollow, his countenance haggard, and, thoughsunburnt, showed none of the hue of health. A second glance, however, convinced me that he was Charley Fielding. The old hunter was engaged in giving him some food, treating him as he would a helpless child. They both recognised me, and Charley’s eye brightened as he stretched out his hand to welcome me while I knelt by his side.“Where have you been? How did you come here?” I asked eagerly.“Don’t trouble him with questions,” said the old trapper; “he’ll answer you better when he’s had some broth. I found him not long since pretty well at his last gasp. I guess he has got away from some Redskins. I always said he was carried off by them. If I am right they are not likely to be far away. We must be on the look-out not to be caught by them.”Charley, though unable to speak, showed by the expression of his countenance that the old trapper had truly conjectured what had happened.We naturally, forgetting all about the big-horns, thought only of how we could best convey Charley to the camp. As we had come over some excessively rough ground, it would be no easy matter to get him there.“Then go back to your friends, and get them to move camp up here,” said the trapper; “by keeping along the lower ground, they can be here quickly, and it’s a more secure spot, I guess, than where they are.”I asked Long Sam, who now came up, to go back with a message to our friends, as I was unwilling to leave Charley. This he agreed to do, and Folkard was glad to have me remain. The food quickly revived Charley, when Folkard went off to fetch some water from a neighbouring spring. We then together carried him to the trapper’s camp, which was not many paces off, though so securely hidden that even an Indian’s eye could scarcely have detected it.This done, I looked out anxiously for the arrival of our friends. The shades of evening were already extending far away over the lower ground.“They’ll surely come!” I said to myself. Presently I caught sight of our party, and shouted to them to come on.Poor Dick burst into tears when he saw Charley, partly from joy at having found him, and partly from pity at his condition.It was some time before Charley could speak. The first use he made of his returning strength, was to tell us that he had been captured by Indians, and kept a prisoner ever since,—exactly as old Folkard had supposed; that he was not as badly treated as he expected, but so strictly watched, that in spite of all the attempts he had made, he could not effect his escape until two days before, when he found that a war-party was about to set off to attack an emigrant train coming westward, of which they had just gained tidings. While the braves were performing their war-dance to the admiration of the squaws, he had managed to slip out of camp unperceived, his intention being to warn the white men of their danger. The train had been encamped some days, and it was not known how soon they would move forward. He had hoped therefore to be in time, as the Indians would not venture to attack them while they remained stationary.On hearing this we were all eager to set out to the rescue of the white people. Armitage especially was unusually excited, but to move at that time of night, with our horses already tired, the country also being of a somewhat rough description, was scarcely possible. Old Folkard, as well as Pierre and Long Sam, was of opinion that we should gain time by waiting, as we might otherwise lose our way, or lame our animals over the rocky tract we should have to pass. We arranged therefore to wait for daylight, and it was settled that the Canadian should remain with the old trapper to assist him in taking care of Charley, and looking after our baggage mules and spare horses. The greater part of the night was spent in cleaning our rifles and pistols, as we expected to have use for them should we find that the emigrant train had moved on, and that the Indians had kept up their intention of attacking it. We breakfasted before dawn so that we might ride if necessary several hours without food, and might be some distance on our way before the first streaks of the coming day should appear in the sky.Pierre and Long Sam, after a consultation, undertook to guide us, so that we might fall in with the usual track followed by emigrants, a short distance only to the northward of the place where we were encamped. We felt somewhat anxious about leaving Charley in his present state, with so slender a guard.“Do not trouble yourselves about that,” observed the old trapper. “I’ll keep a good look-out, and no Redskins are likely to come this way.”As we rode on and daylight increased, we looked out eagerly for any smoke which might indicate a camp fire, but not the slightest wreath dimmed the clear sky. Pierre and Long Sam both agreed that we were not far from the high road, and that we must soon come upon the track of the train if it had passed. Not a quarter-of-an-hour after this, we saw—not a fire burning—but the remains of several, and all the signs of a train having halted on the spot. We hastily rode over the ground, when Armitage, suddenly leaping from his horse, picked up a small object which he intently examined. It was a lady’s glove, such as the usual travellers by emigrant trains are not wont to wear. He placed it in his pocket.“On, friends, on!” he cried; “if Charley’s information is correct we have not a moment to lose. Already the work of plunder and murder may have begun.”We needed no further incitement to make us urge on our steeds. Armitage and Long Sam, who were the best mounted of our party, leading, the latter being our guide. The country was wooded so that we could not see far ahead. Suddenly our guide turned to the left.“We will take a short cut for the waggons. The road makes a bend here,” he observed. “Maybe we shall find ourselves in front of the train. No Redskins will venture to attack it when they see us.”No sounds had hitherto reached our ears, but presently a shot was heard from a short distance off, then another and another.“On, on!” cried Armitage, and in a few minutes, through an opening in the forest, we caught sight of a large band of Indians rapidly descending the hill, while nearer to us there came the leading waggon of an emigrant train, the drivers of which were endeavouring to turn back their cattle as probably those following were attempting to do.From the shrieks and cries which arose, it seemed too likely that the Redskins had already attacked the travellers, and we knew well what quick work they would make of it should they have gained any advantage; so, digging spurs into our horses’ flanks, we passed round the head of the train, and uttering a loud cheer as we did so to encourage the emigrants, we rode full tilt at the savages.
We and the savage Redskins were both utterly helpless; they from being overcome by liquor, we from having our arms firmly bound to the trees. All the efforts we had made to liberate ourselves had only tended to draw more tightly the thongs; while we were left to contemplate the dreadful fate to which we were doomed as soon as the savages had recovered from the fumes of the spirits they had swallowed. All sorts of horrible ideas passed through my mind. Should a pack of wolves come to the camp, they might, helpless as we were, tear us to pieces, as well as the unconscious Indians. It would be a worse fate than any the savages might inflict upon us. Scarcely had the idea entered my brain, than the well-known howls and yelps of the animals I dreaded reached my ears. Louder and louder they grew. They were approaching the camp. In a few minutes they would be upon us. It was no fancy of my brain, for my companions heard them also. Darkness prevented us from seeing each other’s countenances; but I could distinguish Dick, who was nearest me, again making efforts to free himself, and he could not help crying out in desperation when he found himself foiled as before. The wolves were close upon us, when presently we heard the tramp of a horse’s feet, and one of our own animals, which either Armitage or Jack had been riding, and from whose back the Indians had neglected to remove the saddle dashed by, closely pursued by a pack of large wolves, who intent on the chase did not regard us. I saw the head of an Indian lifted up for a moment, awakened to partial consciousness by the yelping of the wolves and the tramp of the horse; but perhaps the savage fancied he was dreaming, for the next moment his head again sank to the ground. We were preserved for the moment, but what would happen should the wolves succeed in pulling down and devouring the horse? They would, to a certainty, return and attack us, as we had feared; or, even if they did not, the Indians would be recovering from their debauch. I could only hope that they had not consumed all the liquor, and that the first to awaken would take another pull at the bottles. In spite of our fearful position, a drowsiness began to steal over me, produced perhaps by exhaustion. I even now do not like to think of those dreadful hours, when my mind dwelt on the various tortures the savages were wont to inflict on their helpless prisoners. I fully expected that arrows would be shot at my limbs while all vital parts were avoided; to have my flesh burnt with hot irons; to be scalped; to suffer the most lingering and painful of deaths. In vain I tried to banish such thoughts, and to encourage the stupor stealing over me. At length I had almost succeeded, though I was not really asleep, when I heard a voice whisper in my ear, “Do not move or speak when you find the thongs cut.”
The next instant I was free. The darkness prevented me seeing clearly what was happening to my companions, but I could distinguish a figure stealing along the ground, and appearing behind each of them.
“Now friends! you have your choice, either to cut the throats of the Redskins as they lie, or to catch the horses and put a wide space between them and yourselves before daybreak,” said a voice which I recognised as that of old Folkard—“don’t trust those villains, they may not be as fast asleep as you fancy. If they hear you moving they may be on their feet again before you have had time to pass your knives across their throats.”
“Savages as they are, I would not for one moment dream of killing them, whatever they intended to do to us,” said Jack.
Armitage and Story agreed with him, as did I. We therefore at once resolved to steal off as soon as we had recovered our rifles, the only weapons of which we had been deprived; and though they were close to where our captors were sleeping, they might easily be reached. Our plan was then to try and get hold of our horses, and when they were secured we might recover the remainder of our property and deprive the Indians of their arms. We should thus teach them a lesson of mercy; for when they recovered their senses they could not fail to see how completely they had been in our power, and that we might have put the whole of them to death had we been so disposed.
The old trapper volunteered to manage the most dangerous part of the undertaking, that of recovering our rifles. Telling us to remain where we were, apparently still bound to the trees, he crept forward on hands and knees, disappearing in the surrounding gloom. Not a sound did we hear until he came back, carrying in either hand a rifle, which he placed at our feet. He then made a second trip, which was as successful as the first; but the Indians’ spears and several of our spare rifles had still to be obtained. He went very cautiously to work, for he was evidently not at all confident that one of the Indians might not awake. I would gladly have assisted him, had he not urged us to remain quiet. I felt greatly relieved when he at length returned with the last rifles.
“But we want our saddles!” whispered Dick.
I told Folkard where to find them.
“You shall have them,” he answered, and again set off. I much feared that he might be discovered, as he would have to go into the camp itself, and the slightest sound might awaken our enemies.
We waited and waited: again I felt a strong inclination to steal forward and assist him. Just as I was about to do so, he reappeared bringing two saddles and bridles.
Still it was of consequence, if we could manage it, to possess ourselves of the Indians’ bows and spears. I again offered to accompany the trapper. He thought a moment.
“It may be done,” he said, “if you step cautiously, for they are more soundly asleep than I had supposed; but, if any of them should awake, you must be prepared to knock them on the head—our own safety will demand it.”
I agreed to this, hoping that the contingency might not arrive. We set out and soon reached the camp. So sound asleep did they appear, that I believe even had we trodden on them, they could not have been aroused. They lay where they had fallen in their drunken fits, in every variety of attitude. We each possessed ourselves of two tomahawks for our defence, and all the bows we could find; and, carrying them under our arms, returned to our companions. Folkard immediately cut the strings and broke off the ends of the bows. We had thus far been more successful than we had anticipated.
We now, having recovered our weapons and twosaddles,—for the Indians had left the others on the backs of the horses,—glided behind the trees to which we had been bound, and stole off, cautiously following the footsteps of old Folkard, who led the way.
“I left my horse down in the hollow yonder,” said the trapper; “we will get him first, and then I’ll try and help catch yours; they are not far off I suspect. It will be daylight soon, and we have no time to lose.”
Several more minutes were spent before we reached the spot where old Folkard’s horse was securely tethered. He having mounted, we set out in search of our own steeds.
“It is just possible that the Indians may have left one of their number to watch their horses as well as ours, and if so, it will be necessary to either capture or kill the man,” said Dick.
Unwilling as we were to put to death any of our savage enemies, even in our own defence, we saw the necessity of doing as Dick proposed.
Greatly to our satisfaction, as we approached a glade, the whinny of a horse was heard, and Armitage’s favourite steed came trotting up to him. We immediately put on its saddle and bridle. Pierre’s and mine were still wanting. His had probably been torn to pieces by the wolves, but we still had a chance of getting mine. I was almost in despair, when to my joy it came up, and I was quickly on its back. Pierre was very unhappy at delaying us.
At length old Folkard observed—
“Jump up behind me, we’ll soon catch a horse for you; the Indians had a lot of animals with them, and we’ll take one of theirs if we can’t find yours.”
By this time morning had dawned, and we had no longer any fear of encountering our enemies. We rode on to where old Folkard told us he expected to find the horses.
Surmounting a slight elevation, we soon caught sight of a score of animals, evidently those of the Indians. To catch them was no easy matter, for just at the moment we appeared they seemed to be seized by a sudden panic, and began prancing and rearing in the strangest fashion. We dashed forward, and, as they saw us coming, off they started across the prairie at a rate which would have rendered pursuit utterly hopeless.
We had now to settle what course to pursue. Should we return to the camp and take possession of our property, or put as many miles as we could between ourselves and the Indians?
On calculating, however, the quantity of liquor among our stores, we arrived at the conclusion that there was enough to keep the Indians drunk for another day or two, and that we should probably find them as helpless as before. We accordingly kept our rifles ready for instant service, and rode towards our camp. On our way we found our mules, which according to their usual custom had not mixed with the horses. Pierre mounted one of them, and led the rest. The loud snores and perfect silence around where the Indians lay showed us that they had not recovered from their debauch. While two of our party stood guard, ready to deal with any who might come to their senses, the rest of us loaded the mules with our goods, including two remaining bottles of spirits.
Folkard proposed leaving these to prevent the enemy from pursuing us. “There is no fear of their doing that, for they have neither horses nor arms,” observed Dick. “They may consider themselves fortunate in escaping with their lives.” We could scarcely help laughing at the thought of their astonishment when, on coming to themselves, they should find how completely the tables had been turned: we hoped they would duly appreciate the mercy shown to them. We now rode off, thankful for the happy termination of our adventure.
We found that the old trapper had been very successful and wished to turn his steps eastward.
“I should be glad of your company, friends,” he said, “in the first place; and in the second I don’t think it would be safe for you to remain in this region, as the rest of the tribe may consider themselves insulted, and, ungrateful for the mercy shown their people, may endeavour to cut you off. When the Redskins have made up their minds to do a thing, they’ll do it if they can, however long they may have to wait.”
We all agreed that, although not frightened by the Indians, we had had enough of fighting and hunting for the present. We accordingly made up our minds to accompany old Folkard. We felt that, in gratitude to him for having preserved our lives, we were bound to do as he wished.
Having reached the spot where he had left his mules with his traps and peltries, we turned our horses’ heads eastward. As we rode along he told us that he had come upon our trail, and that soon afterwards he had fallen in with one which he knew must be made by an Indian war-party, and feeling sure that they intended us mischief he had followed them up. He had scarcely expected, however, to find us still alive; but having stolen up to the camp, he saw the state to which our liquor had fortunately reduced our captors, and had at once formed the plan for liberating us so happily carried out. One of Dick’s first questions was about Charley. The old trapper replied that he had failed to hear of him; but he still held out hopes that our friend might have escaped, and that some well-disposed Indians might have spared his life, and taken care of him, hoping to induce him to join their tribe, according to a by no means unusual custom among them.
This idea somewhat cheered up the worthy lieutenant’s spirits, and made him unwilling to return eastward; still, as he could not remain by himself, he agreed to accompany us. The journey appeared very long. For the first few days we pushed forward to get beyond the reach of the Indians, in case they should fall in with any of their tribe and venture to pursue us. After this we were compelled, for the sake of our horses, to make more easy stages. We had also to halt for the purpose of providing ourselves with meat; but as we shot only for the pot, that caused us no great delay.
At last we reached Saint Louis, where we spent several months enjoying the hospitality of numerous friends to whom we had letters of introduction. For a time we were looked upon as heroes on a small scale by society; but probably the hunters and trappers who frequent that city would have considered our adventures as every-day occurrences and scarcely worth talking about.
Old Folkard, having disposed of his peltries, and obtained new traps and a fresh outfit, started westward in the course of a fortnight, declaring that he could not breathe among the bricks and mortar. He promised that he would not fail to look out for Charley, for whose recovery, however, even Dick, by this time, had begun to despair. We were beginning to get a little tired of civilised ways and to sigh for the wild life of the prairie, when Armitage received a letter calling him to New York to meet an agent.
“I should like to continue the expedition I began with you,” he said, “and I shall esteem it a favour if you will wait for my return; I shall not be longer than I can help.”
His request, made in so courteous a way, was not to be refused. We all consented to stop. Week after week went by, and Armitage was still delayed; but as we had remained so long, we agreed to wait until he returned, though our stay was double the length we intended. We were employed in adding to our outfit such articles as, from our experience, we considered useful. At length Armitage rejoined us, and we were once moreen route. From the way his Indians had behaved when it came to a pinch, he had resolved to take no more. Besides Pierre, who was accompanied by another Canadian, we had a Yankee trapper yclept “Long Sam,” who, according to his own showing, was likely to prove of far more value than half-a-dozen Indians. He was ready for anything—to hunt on horseback, to shoot on foot, or to trap beavers. We had been travelling on some time when Armitage began to talk of Tillydrone, and suggested that, as it was not far out of our way, it would be but courteous to pay a visit there and inquire after the family who had treated us so hospitably. He said not a word, however, about Miss Hargrave, nor from the tone of his voice would anyone have suspected that he was thinking of her.
When Long Sam heard us mention the place, he exclaimed—
“Why, that’s wha’r Praeger used to live, and it was burnt with mighty near the whole of the property when the forest caught fire last fall, though he and his family escaped. I heard say that they were going to move westward, and they must be on their journey by this time, I guess.”
Armitage questioned and cross-questioned his informant, and seemed perfectly satisfied with his statement. After this he expressed no further wish to visit Tillydrone.
We had been travelling on for more than a month, when we once more found ourselves among the wild and grand scenery in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains. We encamped not far from a spot we had before occupied, where we knew an abundance of game was to be found. This time we had determined that nothing should turn us back until the western coast was reached. We were now enabled to detect the trails of animals as well as of men, an art indeed in which Pierre and Sam were equal to the Indians themselves. As we had camped pretty early, we started in different directions, hoping to bring in a good supply of meat, of which our consumption was considerable, Long Sam declaring when really hungry, that he could eat half a buffalo at a sitting—I wonder he didn’t say a whole one. We had espied some big-horns on the rocky heights in the distance, and were making our way towards them, when Sam exclaimed—
“A white man has passed this way, though those are the marks of moccasins, but no Indian treads in that fashion.”
I agreed with him, and soon afterwards we came upon a pool out of which a stream ran to the eastward. Sam was not long before he ferreted out several beaver-traps, and, examining one of them, pronounced it of the best make, and belonging to a white trapper. Of course we allowed it to remain unchanged. We thought of old Folkard, but scarcely expected to fall in with him again. We were making our way through a wood, along a ridge with a valley below us, when, looking through a gap in the trees, I caught sight of two persons, the one seated, supporting the head of another, who was stretched on the ground on his knees. Though I was too far off to distinguish their features, I saw by the dress of one that he was a trapper, but could not make out the other. On coming nearer, however, I recognised old Folkard; but who was the other? His cheeks were hollow, his countenance haggard, and, thoughsunburnt, showed none of the hue of health. A second glance, however, convinced me that he was Charley Fielding. The old hunter was engaged in giving him some food, treating him as he would a helpless child. They both recognised me, and Charley’s eye brightened as he stretched out his hand to welcome me while I knelt by his side.
“Where have you been? How did you come here?” I asked eagerly.
“Don’t trouble him with questions,” said the old trapper; “he’ll answer you better when he’s had some broth. I found him not long since pretty well at his last gasp. I guess he has got away from some Redskins. I always said he was carried off by them. If I am right they are not likely to be far away. We must be on the look-out not to be caught by them.”
Charley, though unable to speak, showed by the expression of his countenance that the old trapper had truly conjectured what had happened.
We naturally, forgetting all about the big-horns, thought only of how we could best convey Charley to the camp. As we had come over some excessively rough ground, it would be no easy matter to get him there.
“Then go back to your friends, and get them to move camp up here,” said the trapper; “by keeping along the lower ground, they can be here quickly, and it’s a more secure spot, I guess, than where they are.”
I asked Long Sam, who now came up, to go back with a message to our friends, as I was unwilling to leave Charley. This he agreed to do, and Folkard was glad to have me remain. The food quickly revived Charley, when Folkard went off to fetch some water from a neighbouring spring. We then together carried him to the trapper’s camp, which was not many paces off, though so securely hidden that even an Indian’s eye could scarcely have detected it.
This done, I looked out anxiously for the arrival of our friends. The shades of evening were already extending far away over the lower ground.
“They’ll surely come!” I said to myself. Presently I caught sight of our party, and shouted to them to come on.
Poor Dick burst into tears when he saw Charley, partly from joy at having found him, and partly from pity at his condition.
It was some time before Charley could speak. The first use he made of his returning strength, was to tell us that he had been captured by Indians, and kept a prisoner ever since,—exactly as old Folkard had supposed; that he was not as badly treated as he expected, but so strictly watched, that in spite of all the attempts he had made, he could not effect his escape until two days before, when he found that a war-party was about to set off to attack an emigrant train coming westward, of which they had just gained tidings. While the braves were performing their war-dance to the admiration of the squaws, he had managed to slip out of camp unperceived, his intention being to warn the white men of their danger. The train had been encamped some days, and it was not known how soon they would move forward. He had hoped therefore to be in time, as the Indians would not venture to attack them while they remained stationary.
On hearing this we were all eager to set out to the rescue of the white people. Armitage especially was unusually excited, but to move at that time of night, with our horses already tired, the country also being of a somewhat rough description, was scarcely possible. Old Folkard, as well as Pierre and Long Sam, was of opinion that we should gain time by waiting, as we might otherwise lose our way, or lame our animals over the rocky tract we should have to pass. We arranged therefore to wait for daylight, and it was settled that the Canadian should remain with the old trapper to assist him in taking care of Charley, and looking after our baggage mules and spare horses. The greater part of the night was spent in cleaning our rifles and pistols, as we expected to have use for them should we find that the emigrant train had moved on, and that the Indians had kept up their intention of attacking it. We breakfasted before dawn so that we might ride if necessary several hours without food, and might be some distance on our way before the first streaks of the coming day should appear in the sky.
Pierre and Long Sam, after a consultation, undertook to guide us, so that we might fall in with the usual track followed by emigrants, a short distance only to the northward of the place where we were encamped. We felt somewhat anxious about leaving Charley in his present state, with so slender a guard.
“Do not trouble yourselves about that,” observed the old trapper. “I’ll keep a good look-out, and no Redskins are likely to come this way.”
As we rode on and daylight increased, we looked out eagerly for any smoke which might indicate a camp fire, but not the slightest wreath dimmed the clear sky. Pierre and Long Sam both agreed that we were not far from the high road, and that we must soon come upon the track of the train if it had passed. Not a quarter-of-an-hour after this, we saw—not a fire burning—but the remains of several, and all the signs of a train having halted on the spot. We hastily rode over the ground, when Armitage, suddenly leaping from his horse, picked up a small object which he intently examined. It was a lady’s glove, such as the usual travellers by emigrant trains are not wont to wear. He placed it in his pocket.
“On, friends, on!” he cried; “if Charley’s information is correct we have not a moment to lose. Already the work of plunder and murder may have begun.”
We needed no further incitement to make us urge on our steeds. Armitage and Long Sam, who were the best mounted of our party, leading, the latter being our guide. The country was wooded so that we could not see far ahead. Suddenly our guide turned to the left.
“We will take a short cut for the waggons. The road makes a bend here,” he observed. “Maybe we shall find ourselves in front of the train. No Redskins will venture to attack it when they see us.”
No sounds had hitherto reached our ears, but presently a shot was heard from a short distance off, then another and another.
“On, on!” cried Armitage, and in a few minutes, through an opening in the forest, we caught sight of a large band of Indians rapidly descending the hill, while nearer to us there came the leading waggon of an emigrant train, the drivers of which were endeavouring to turn back their cattle as probably those following were attempting to do.
From the shrieks and cries which arose, it seemed too likely that the Redskins had already attacked the travellers, and we knew well what quick work they would make of it should they have gained any advantage; so, digging spurs into our horses’ flanks, we passed round the head of the train, and uttering a loud cheer as we did so to encourage the emigrants, we rode full tilt at the savages.
Chapter Nine.As we rode round the head of the train, we saw to our sorrow that the Redskins had already fought their way to two of the centre waggons, the white men belonging to which were engaged in a fierce fight with them. Armitage took an anxious glance at the occupants of the leading waggon.“Who commands this train?” he asked eagerly of one of the drivers.The man, owing to the war-whoops of the savages, the shrieks of the women, and the shouts of his companion, did not perhaps hear the question, and there was no time to repeat it as we swooped by. Already it appeared to us that the work of murder had commenced. Two or three of the people lay on the ground, and while part of the Indians were fighting, some were engaged in attempting to drag off the female occupants of the waggon. To prevent them succeeding in their desperate attempt was our first object. Leaving the Indians we had intended to charge, we turned our horses and dashed forward towards the point where our services were most required. The savages saw us coming, and most of them leaving the waggon, some leapt on their horses, while others attempted to defend themselves on foot. Firing a volley from our rifles which brought several to the ground, we rushed at our foes. Just then I saw, to my horror, an Indian, who by his dress appeared to be a chief, dragging off a female, a fair girl she seemed, whom he lifted on his horse. In vain she struggled to free herself. He was mounted on a powerful animal which he evidently had under perfect command. Shouting to his followers he galloped off, while they stood their ground boldly. We dashed at them pistoling some and cutting down others; but not until half their number lay dead on the ground or desperately wounded did they attempt to escape; by which time the main body were almost up to us. Leaving the first to be dealt with by the emigrants who had rallied, we reloaded our rifles and charged the larger party of the enemy. They received us with a shower of arrows, by which, wonderful as it seemed, none of us were wounded. The odds, however, were fearfully against us; for the Indians fought bravely, and rapidly wheeling their horses attacked us now in front, now on our flanks, and we had to turn every instant to defend ourselves. Several of their number had been shot. Dick and Armitage were wounded, and Pierre’s horse was killed. It was with the greatest difficulty that we defended him until he managed to make his escape towards the waggons. I shouted to him to send some of the men to our assistance. We in the meantime having fired our rifles and pistols had our swords alone to depend upon. They served us well, and the Indians, as we approached, evidently showed their dread of them by endeavouring to get out of their reach as we flashed them round our heads. Still, numbers might prevail, unless we could speedily compel the Indians to take to flight.In the meantime, what had become of the female I had seen carried off! I could not tell whether Armitage or the rest had witnessed the occurrence; but, whether or not, it would be impossible to attempt her rescue until we had defeated our present opponents. If we could have retreated even to a short distance to reload our firearms, we would have done so, but our agile foes gave us no time. I scarcely even dared to look round to ascertain if any help was coming; probably the emigrants had enough to do in keeping in check other parties of Indians who were threatening them. The fight had not continued many minutes, though it seemed to me as many hours, when an Indian charged at Armitage with a long spear, the weapon pierced his side, and over rolled horse and man. Another savage was coming on to repeat the blow, when Long Sam, dashing up, cut down the first savage, and then engaged the second. Our friend, notwithstanding, would speedily have been killed, had we not rallied round him and kept the enemy at bay; while, although evidently much hurt, he managed to regain his feet.Now deprived of two of our number, and having to defend Armitage as well as ourselves, we were nearly overpowered. At any moment another of us might be wounded. The Indians, seeing their advantage, retreated to a short distance, in order to makeanother fierce charge, the result of which would very probably have been our overthrow, when we heard a loud shout raised in our rear, and presently, with a wild war-cry of “Erin go bragh,” a strange figure dashed by us, mounted on a powerful horse, with a target on one arm, and a broadsword flashing in his right hand. Several arrows were shot at him, but he caught them on his target, and dashed on unharmed. The first Indian he attacked bit the dust; another made at him, the head of whose spear he lopped off with a single blow, and he then clove his opponent from the crown of the head to the neck. On seeing this, the Indians, crying out to each other, turned their horses’ heads and attempted to escape.Their flight was expedited by several of the emigrants who, brought up by Pierre, fired a volley at them as they retreated. On looking at the old warrior who had come so opportunely to our aid, what was my surprise to recognise Ben Folkard.The diversion thus made in our favour, had enabled the emigrants to form their waggons into a square, so as to be able to repel any further attacks of the Indians, who showed no disposition however to come on. Our first care was to commit Armitage—the most severely wounded of our party—to the charge of Pierre and the emigrants who had accompanied him. Lifting him up between them, they carried him to the waggons.“I’m main sure that Mr Praeger will be grateful to the gentlemen,” I heard one of the men say.As the man uttered the name, the thought flashed across me, “Could it have been one of his daughters, or Miss Hargrave, I had seen carried off? Poor Armitage, how fearful would be his feelings should he find that his Ellen had disappeared. As soon as I could, I turned to the old trapper and anxiously inquired what had become of Charley.”“I left him in safe keeping,” he answered, “but, finding from a companion of mine who rejoined me after you had gone that the Indians were about to attack the train in greater force than I had at first supposed, I resolved to come to your assistance.”“You did well,” observed Dick, who came up while he was speaking. “Had it not been for your arrival, I suspect that one and all of us would have gone down, for those rascals pressed us hard.”We had been proceeding towards a height which commanded a view in the direction our late opponents were supposed to have taken, and we were thankful to see them moving off, forming a more numerous body than we had at first supposed. We accounted for this by concluding that, while one portion of the savages attacked the train, the others had remained concealed to act as a reserve should the first not succeed. What had become of the female I had seen carried off, we could not ascertain. We could nowhere distinguish her, but she might easily have been concealed from our sight if she were among the leading Indians.Our party, however, was too small to pursue the fugitives, with any chance of recovering her. On reaching the camp formed by the train, we at once repaired to Mr Praeger’s waggon. We found him and his family almost overcome with grief and anxiety. Two of his sons were severely wounded, and Miss Hargrave had disappeared. My worst fears were realised. She must have been the person I had seen carried off by the Indian chief.No one was certain as to the direction her captor had taken, for his followers immediately surrounded him, and they had retreated together. Three men of the emigrant party had been killed, and half a dozen more or less wounded. They were full of gratitude to us for coming to their assistance; for they acknowledged, surprised as they had been, that every one of them might have been massacred had we not attacked the savages. We on our part had to thank the trapper for his assistance. When, however, we looked round for him, he had disappeared, and some of the people said they had seen him galloping back in the direction from which he had come. We guessed therefore that he had returned to take care of our friend Charley. Poor Armitage had been placed in one of the waggons, and a surgeon who had accompanied the train was attending to his wounds. He had not been told of what had happened to Miss Hargrave.We had now to consider what was next to be done. Of course we all agreed that the first thing was to endeavour to recover the young lady. The leaders of the train, in consequence of having so many wounded among them, resolved to remain encamped where they were, as the neighbourhood afforded wood and water, with abundance of game, and they felt pretty confident that the Indians would not again venture to attack them. Pierre and Long Sam at once volunteered to visit old Folkard’s camp, and to assist in bringing on Charley, should he, as we hoped would be the case, be in a fit state to be moved. They also promised to consult the trapper, as his experience would be of value in forming a plan for the recovery of the young lady: that she had been killed, we none of us could bring ourselves to believe.All hands were now employed in strengthening the camp,—Dick, Story, and I, assisted our friends, working as hard as any one. We were of use also in attending to poor Armitage. I was afraid every moment that he would inquire for Miss Hargrave, for he would naturally wonder that she had not appeared.As may be supposed, we kept a very strict watch at night, while all the men lay down with their arms by their sides under the waggons, with the cattle placed in the centre of the square; but no Indians, we believed, came near us.As the morning advanced, I looked out eagerly for the arrival of Charley. We were anxious to place him under the protection of our friends, and until Pierre and Long Sam came, we could take no steps for the recovery of Miss Hargrave. We talked the subject over with Mr Praeger, who was naturally too much agitated to be able with sufficient calmness to design any feasible plan of operation.At length, greatly to our relief, soon after mid-day Pierre and Long Sam appeared with two other men, carrying Charley on a litter; while old Folkard and another trapper followed, leading the horses and laden mules. Charley was much revived, and declared that he could have walked had his companions allowed him; but when he came to be placed on his feet, it was very evident that he could not have proceeded many yards by himself.No time was lost in holding a council round the camp fire, while the new arrivals ate the dinner provided for them. Old Folkard advised that we should in the first place examine the neighbourhood of the camp, in order to try and discover the trail of Miss Hargrave’s captor, for Long Sam was of opinion that, though he might have been accompanied by a few of his braves, he had not gone off with the larger body of Redskins. Charley, who listened attentively to all that was said, agreed with Long Sam; and, as he had been so long amongst the tribe, his opinion was of value. He was certain that it was only a chief who was likely to have committed such an act, probably the younger brother of the head chief; who, Charley said, had frequently talked to him of the beauty of the pale faced women, and of his intention of obtaining one of them for his wife. This had always greatly angered his elder brother, who had declared, should he bring a pale-face to their lodges, that he should be turned out of the tribe, and that she should be put to death. Charley was certain, therefore, that Black Eagle—so the chief was called—would not return to his people; and that, should we be able to discover his trail, we should find him protected with only a small band, with whom it would not be difficult to deal.The first thing was to discover the trail, and Folkard, Long Sam, and Pierre set out for the purpose. We, in the meantime, were engaged in organising the pursuing party, if so I may call it. Dick, though wounded, made light of the matter, and insisted on going. Folkard had offered to take all his people. Besides Story and I, we had Pierre, and Long Sam, the Canadian, and two other men; making altogether a well-armed party of twelve, mostly experienced hunters and backwoodsmen, accustomed all their lives to encounters with the red men.Long Sam, who in his wanderings in South America had learned the use of the lasso, never went on an expedition without carrying a long coil of rope at his saddle bow; which he used, not only for catching horses, but for stopping the career of a wounded buffalo or deer; and he had, he asserted, made captives at different times of several Indians by whom he had been attacked, when they, approaching within the radius of his long line, were surprised to find themselves jerked to the ground and dragged along at a rate which rendered all resistance useless.It was late in the evening when the three trappers returned. They had discovered a trail made by a small party, though they had been unable to decide whether it was that which had carried off the lady, until Long Sam, observing an object glittering on the ground, had, on picking it up, found it to be a golden locket, such as was not likely to have belonged to an Indian. On showing it to Mr Praeger and his family, they at once recognised it as having been worn by Miss Hargrave, thus leaving us in no doubt on the subject.It was too late that night to follow up the trail, though every moment was precious. We had to waittherefore, until about three hours before dawn; when, mounting our steeds, we rode forward under the guidance of old Folkard, expecting at daybreak to reach the spot where the locket had been found. We agreed to breakfast there, and then to follow up the trail as soon as there was sufficient light to see it.We carried out our plan, and the rising sun saw us pushing eagerly forward, the trail being sufficiently marked to enable the practical eyes of our guides to detect it.To our surprise, instead of keeping to the right, as both old Folkard and Long Sam expected, it turned suddenly to the left, in the direction the main body had taken.“There’s a reason for this,” observed Folkard, after we had ridden some way. “See, there was a message sent by the head chief to Black Eagle. Look, there is the trail of his horse, but whether the young chief joined the main body we shall know by and by.”This information was a great disappointment, as it would render our enterprise far more difficult, for we should now have the whole tribe to deal with instead of a small party as we expected.We were not to be deterred, however, and rode forward as rapidly as the necessary examination of the trail would allow. At last we had to halt and rest our horses, but we refrained from lighting a fire and ate our provisions cold.As soon as possible we again pushed forward, but darkness coming on we had again to camp. Of course we did not light a fire, lest, should our enemies be in the neighbourhood, they might discover us.Our faithful attendants kept watch, insisting that Story and I should lie down and take the rest we so greatly needed.Next morning, instead of riding on together, Long Sam undertook to scout in advance, that we might not come suddenly upon the enemy, who it was believed could not be far ahead. We were passing round a wood when presently we heard a shout, and directly afterwards caught sight of Long Sam galloping towards us followed by an Indian—evidently a chief, from his war plumes and gaily bedecked shield,—but as we got nearer we saw that a rope was round the Indian’s body, and that he was attempting to free himself from it. He was on the point of drawing his knife when, by a sudden jerk, Long Sam brought him to the ground.Folkard and Pierre, throwing themselves from their horses, rushed forward to seize him before he had regained his feet. Pierre, with his knife in his hand, was about to plunge it into the heart of the Indian; but I shouted out to him to desist, and Long Sam drawing tight the lasso, the next instant dragged the Indian clear of his frightened steed, which galloped off leaving him utterly helpless. Springing upon him, we then secured his arms by some leathern thongs, and removed the lasso from round his body.“He is Black Eagle, no doubt about that,” cried old Folkard. “What have you done with the lady you carried off?” he added in the Indian tongue.The prisoner refused to reply.“If the chief will tell us what we want to know, he shall live; but, if not, he must be prepared to die,” said Long Sam.An expression of irresolution passed over the Indian’s countenance.“I would that I could tell the pale-faces where she is to be found, but she has been taken from me; though, if they will restore me to liberty, I will endeavour to find her,” he said at length.“If the chief speaks the truth, he will find the palefaces willing to grant him any favour he may ask,” said Long Sam; then, turning to us, he added, “We must not trust the rascal. Though decked with fine feathers he has a cowardly heart, I suspect. We’ll keep him bound and take him with us. If he plays us false, knock him on the head without scruple; that’s my advice. We must not let his horse escape, however; wait here while I catch the animal.”Saying this, Long Sam threw himself into the saddle, and taking his lasso which he had again coiled up, started off in the direction the Indian’s horse had taken. In a shorter time than I had expected, he returned leading the animal by the lasso which he had thrown over its neck, and whenever it became restive, a sudden jerk quickly brought it again under subjection.“Of course, it won’t do to put the Redskin on his own horse, or he may be giving us the slip. He shall have mine,” said Long Sam, “and old ‘Knotty’ will stick by us, even if Mr Black Eagle should try and gallop off.”We now, by means of the three hunters, endeavoured to obtain all the information we could from our captive.He acknowledged that he had carried off the palefaced girl, and that he intended to make her his bride; but that he had been inveigled into the camp of his people, when she had been taken from him; and that, when he complained, he had been turned away to seek his own fortunes.As we had no reason to doubt his word we asked him to guide us to wherever his people were now encamped, making him promise to warn us as we drew near the spot so that we might not be taken by surprise. We kept a bright look out on Black Eagle, Long Sam hinting gently that, should he show any treachery, he would be immediately shot through the head. The warning was not lost upon our friend. We rode on and on, until the sun sinking in the west showed us that we must again camp.Black Eagle informed us that we should probably not reach his people until late on the following day. We had therefore to restrain our anxiety, and trust to his assurances that there were no Indians in the neighbourhood. We lighted a fire to cook a deer which Long Sam had shot just before we reached the camp.We were seated round the fire enjoying our suppers, the first satisfactory meal we had taken since we started, when the well-known cry of a pack of wolves reached our ears. From the yelps and barks which they continued to utter in full chorus, we knew that they were in chase of some unfortunate animal which they hoped to drag to the ground.The sounds grew nearer and nearer, but as the spot where we were encamped was surrounded with rocks and trees we could not see to any distance. At last Dick jumped up, saying he must have a look at the wolves and the animal they were chasing. Story and I quickly followed.“They are not worth powder and shot,” observed Long Sam, but notwithstanding he came after us, as did indeed the whole party.Just then the moon rose behind the cliffs, shedding a bright light over the rocky ground which surrounded the spot. From where we stood, we could see an animal, apparently a horse, dashing on at full speed with a savage pack of llovo wolves close at its heels. The next instant, as it came bounding on over the rocks, what was our horror to observe a female form lashed to its back.To stop it in its mad career seemed impossible. The only hope was to shoot some of the wolves, and thus give a better chance for the escape of the horse. As I fired, I heard several other shots, and saw that most of the brutes, already at the horse’s heels, were rolled over. Still the condition of the female was perilous in the extreme. Unless we could catch our own horses, and overtake the affrighted steed, her destruction appeared inevitable. Scarcely had this thought flashed across my mind, when I saw Long Sam, who had thrown himself on horseback, galloping along with his lasso to intercept the runaway.I ran as I had never run before, regardless of the wolves, in the same direction. As I passed by I saw that the pack had stopped and were already engaged in tearing to pieces the brutes we had shot. In an instant afterwards, it seemed, I observed Long Sam’s lasso cast with unerring aim over the neck of the frantic steed, which plunged and reared, but happily did not fall over. In another moment Sam had drawn the lasso so tightly round its neck that it was unable to move.We sprang forward, cut the thongs which bound the female to the animal’s back, and lifting her to the ground, carried her out of danger. She still breathed, though apparently perfectly unconscious. The light of the moon showed us the features of Ellen Hargrave.We did not stop to see what Long Sam did with the captured horse, but at once carried the young lady to the camp, when, by sprinkling her face with water and bathing her hands, she in a short time was restored to consciousness.Her first impulse was to return thanks to heaven for her preservation. Looking up he recognised Dick and me.“Where is Harry? Where is Mr Armitage?” she asked, evidently concluding that he must be of our party.Dick replied that he was safe in the camp with her friends; that we had beaten the savages who had attacked them, and, finding that she had been carried off, had come in search of her. Though we did not inquire how she had been treated inthe Indian camp, she without hesitation told us that Black Eagle had been compelled to release her by his superior chief; when, having been kept in a wigwam by herself for some hours, she had been bound to a horse, which being led away from the camp had been driven out into the wilds. She was fully prepared, she said, for a lingering death, but still she prayed that she might be preserved. All hope however had gone when she heard in the distance the howls of the wolves, and the horse sprang forward on its mad career over the rocky ground. “The rest you know,” she added. “I would thankfully forget those fearful moments.”I must make a long story short. Miss Hargrave appeared much recovered after a night’s rest in the hut we built for her, and the next morning we formed a litter on which we carried her a day’s journey; but on the following morning she insisted on mounting one of the horses, and, a side-saddle being prepared, she performed the rest of the distance to camp with out apparent suffering.I need not say that she was received by her relatives as one returned from the dead, while they expressed their gratitude to us by every means in their power. Armitage, they stated, had been in a very precarious state, but he revived on seeing Miss Hargrave, and quickly regained his strength. We allowed the Black Eagle to go free with his horse and arms, he promising, in return for the merciful treatment he had received, that he would in future be the friend of the pale-faces. The wounded men having now recovered sufficiently to travel, camp was struck, and the train continued its course westward.We, of course, felt ourselves in honour bound to escort our friends on their way; and, although we at first talked of leaving them as soon as all fear of an attack from the Indians had passed, we continued on from day to day.Before the journey was over, it was generally known that Armitage was to marry Miss Hargrave, while Dick and Story, though supposed to be confirmed bachelors, lost their hearts to the two youngest Miss Praegers; and a very pleasant wedding it was which took place soon after our arrival at Mr Praeger’s new location. We frequently afterwards met in old England, where my friends took their wives, and many a long yarn was spun about our adventures in the wild regions of the “Far West.”The End.
As we rode round the head of the train, we saw to our sorrow that the Redskins had already fought their way to two of the centre waggons, the white men belonging to which were engaged in a fierce fight with them. Armitage took an anxious glance at the occupants of the leading waggon.
“Who commands this train?” he asked eagerly of one of the drivers.
The man, owing to the war-whoops of the savages, the shrieks of the women, and the shouts of his companion, did not perhaps hear the question, and there was no time to repeat it as we swooped by. Already it appeared to us that the work of murder had commenced. Two or three of the people lay on the ground, and while part of the Indians were fighting, some were engaged in attempting to drag off the female occupants of the waggon. To prevent them succeeding in their desperate attempt was our first object. Leaving the Indians we had intended to charge, we turned our horses and dashed forward towards the point where our services were most required. The savages saw us coming, and most of them leaving the waggon, some leapt on their horses, while others attempted to defend themselves on foot. Firing a volley from our rifles which brought several to the ground, we rushed at our foes. Just then I saw, to my horror, an Indian, who by his dress appeared to be a chief, dragging off a female, a fair girl she seemed, whom he lifted on his horse. In vain she struggled to free herself. He was mounted on a powerful animal which he evidently had under perfect command. Shouting to his followers he galloped off, while they stood their ground boldly. We dashed at them pistoling some and cutting down others; but not until half their number lay dead on the ground or desperately wounded did they attempt to escape; by which time the main body were almost up to us. Leaving the first to be dealt with by the emigrants who had rallied, we reloaded our rifles and charged the larger party of the enemy. They received us with a shower of arrows, by which, wonderful as it seemed, none of us were wounded. The odds, however, were fearfully against us; for the Indians fought bravely, and rapidly wheeling their horses attacked us now in front, now on our flanks, and we had to turn every instant to defend ourselves. Several of their number had been shot. Dick and Armitage were wounded, and Pierre’s horse was killed. It was with the greatest difficulty that we defended him until he managed to make his escape towards the waggons. I shouted to him to send some of the men to our assistance. We in the meantime having fired our rifles and pistols had our swords alone to depend upon. They served us well, and the Indians, as we approached, evidently showed their dread of them by endeavouring to get out of their reach as we flashed them round our heads. Still, numbers might prevail, unless we could speedily compel the Indians to take to flight.
In the meantime, what had become of the female I had seen carried off! I could not tell whether Armitage or the rest had witnessed the occurrence; but, whether or not, it would be impossible to attempt her rescue until we had defeated our present opponents. If we could have retreated even to a short distance to reload our firearms, we would have done so, but our agile foes gave us no time. I scarcely even dared to look round to ascertain if any help was coming; probably the emigrants had enough to do in keeping in check other parties of Indians who were threatening them. The fight had not continued many minutes, though it seemed to me as many hours, when an Indian charged at Armitage with a long spear, the weapon pierced his side, and over rolled horse and man. Another savage was coming on to repeat the blow, when Long Sam, dashing up, cut down the first savage, and then engaged the second. Our friend, notwithstanding, would speedily have been killed, had we not rallied round him and kept the enemy at bay; while, although evidently much hurt, he managed to regain his feet.
Now deprived of two of our number, and having to defend Armitage as well as ourselves, we were nearly overpowered. At any moment another of us might be wounded. The Indians, seeing their advantage, retreated to a short distance, in order to makeanother fierce charge, the result of which would very probably have been our overthrow, when we heard a loud shout raised in our rear, and presently, with a wild war-cry of “Erin go bragh,” a strange figure dashed by us, mounted on a powerful horse, with a target on one arm, and a broadsword flashing in his right hand. Several arrows were shot at him, but he caught them on his target, and dashed on unharmed. The first Indian he attacked bit the dust; another made at him, the head of whose spear he lopped off with a single blow, and he then clove his opponent from the crown of the head to the neck. On seeing this, the Indians, crying out to each other, turned their horses’ heads and attempted to escape.
Their flight was expedited by several of the emigrants who, brought up by Pierre, fired a volley at them as they retreated. On looking at the old warrior who had come so opportunely to our aid, what was my surprise to recognise Ben Folkard.
The diversion thus made in our favour, had enabled the emigrants to form their waggons into a square, so as to be able to repel any further attacks of the Indians, who showed no disposition however to come on. Our first care was to commit Armitage—the most severely wounded of our party—to the charge of Pierre and the emigrants who had accompanied him. Lifting him up between them, they carried him to the waggons.
“I’m main sure that Mr Praeger will be grateful to the gentlemen,” I heard one of the men say.
As the man uttered the name, the thought flashed across me, “Could it have been one of his daughters, or Miss Hargrave, I had seen carried off? Poor Armitage, how fearful would be his feelings should he find that his Ellen had disappeared. As soon as I could, I turned to the old trapper and anxiously inquired what had become of Charley.”
“I left him in safe keeping,” he answered, “but, finding from a companion of mine who rejoined me after you had gone that the Indians were about to attack the train in greater force than I had at first supposed, I resolved to come to your assistance.”
“You did well,” observed Dick, who came up while he was speaking. “Had it not been for your arrival, I suspect that one and all of us would have gone down, for those rascals pressed us hard.”
We had been proceeding towards a height which commanded a view in the direction our late opponents were supposed to have taken, and we were thankful to see them moving off, forming a more numerous body than we had at first supposed. We accounted for this by concluding that, while one portion of the savages attacked the train, the others had remained concealed to act as a reserve should the first not succeed. What had become of the female I had seen carried off, we could not ascertain. We could nowhere distinguish her, but she might easily have been concealed from our sight if she were among the leading Indians.
Our party, however, was too small to pursue the fugitives, with any chance of recovering her. On reaching the camp formed by the train, we at once repaired to Mr Praeger’s waggon. We found him and his family almost overcome with grief and anxiety. Two of his sons were severely wounded, and Miss Hargrave had disappeared. My worst fears were realised. She must have been the person I had seen carried off by the Indian chief.
No one was certain as to the direction her captor had taken, for his followers immediately surrounded him, and they had retreated together. Three men of the emigrant party had been killed, and half a dozen more or less wounded. They were full of gratitude to us for coming to their assistance; for they acknowledged, surprised as they had been, that every one of them might have been massacred had we not attacked the savages. We on our part had to thank the trapper for his assistance. When, however, we looked round for him, he had disappeared, and some of the people said they had seen him galloping back in the direction from which he had come. We guessed therefore that he had returned to take care of our friend Charley. Poor Armitage had been placed in one of the waggons, and a surgeon who had accompanied the train was attending to his wounds. He had not been told of what had happened to Miss Hargrave.
We had now to consider what was next to be done. Of course we all agreed that the first thing was to endeavour to recover the young lady. The leaders of the train, in consequence of having so many wounded among them, resolved to remain encamped where they were, as the neighbourhood afforded wood and water, with abundance of game, and they felt pretty confident that the Indians would not again venture to attack them. Pierre and Long Sam at once volunteered to visit old Folkard’s camp, and to assist in bringing on Charley, should he, as we hoped would be the case, be in a fit state to be moved. They also promised to consult the trapper, as his experience would be of value in forming a plan for the recovery of the young lady: that she had been killed, we none of us could bring ourselves to believe.
All hands were now employed in strengthening the camp,—Dick, Story, and I, assisted our friends, working as hard as any one. We were of use also in attending to poor Armitage. I was afraid every moment that he would inquire for Miss Hargrave, for he would naturally wonder that she had not appeared.
As may be supposed, we kept a very strict watch at night, while all the men lay down with their arms by their sides under the waggons, with the cattle placed in the centre of the square; but no Indians, we believed, came near us.
As the morning advanced, I looked out eagerly for the arrival of Charley. We were anxious to place him under the protection of our friends, and until Pierre and Long Sam came, we could take no steps for the recovery of Miss Hargrave. We talked the subject over with Mr Praeger, who was naturally too much agitated to be able with sufficient calmness to design any feasible plan of operation.
At length, greatly to our relief, soon after mid-day Pierre and Long Sam appeared with two other men, carrying Charley on a litter; while old Folkard and another trapper followed, leading the horses and laden mules. Charley was much revived, and declared that he could have walked had his companions allowed him; but when he came to be placed on his feet, it was very evident that he could not have proceeded many yards by himself.
No time was lost in holding a council round the camp fire, while the new arrivals ate the dinner provided for them. Old Folkard advised that we should in the first place examine the neighbourhood of the camp, in order to try and discover the trail of Miss Hargrave’s captor, for Long Sam was of opinion that, though he might have been accompanied by a few of his braves, he had not gone off with the larger body of Redskins. Charley, who listened attentively to all that was said, agreed with Long Sam; and, as he had been so long amongst the tribe, his opinion was of value. He was certain that it was only a chief who was likely to have committed such an act, probably the younger brother of the head chief; who, Charley said, had frequently talked to him of the beauty of the pale faced women, and of his intention of obtaining one of them for his wife. This had always greatly angered his elder brother, who had declared, should he bring a pale-face to their lodges, that he should be turned out of the tribe, and that she should be put to death. Charley was certain, therefore, that Black Eagle—so the chief was called—would not return to his people; and that, should we be able to discover his trail, we should find him protected with only a small band, with whom it would not be difficult to deal.
The first thing was to discover the trail, and Folkard, Long Sam, and Pierre set out for the purpose. We, in the meantime, were engaged in organising the pursuing party, if so I may call it. Dick, though wounded, made light of the matter, and insisted on going. Folkard had offered to take all his people. Besides Story and I, we had Pierre, and Long Sam, the Canadian, and two other men; making altogether a well-armed party of twelve, mostly experienced hunters and backwoodsmen, accustomed all their lives to encounters with the red men.
Long Sam, who in his wanderings in South America had learned the use of the lasso, never went on an expedition without carrying a long coil of rope at his saddle bow; which he used, not only for catching horses, but for stopping the career of a wounded buffalo or deer; and he had, he asserted, made captives at different times of several Indians by whom he had been attacked, when they, approaching within the radius of his long line, were surprised to find themselves jerked to the ground and dragged along at a rate which rendered all resistance useless.
It was late in the evening when the three trappers returned. They had discovered a trail made by a small party, though they had been unable to decide whether it was that which had carried off the lady, until Long Sam, observing an object glittering on the ground, had, on picking it up, found it to be a golden locket, such as was not likely to have belonged to an Indian. On showing it to Mr Praeger and his family, they at once recognised it as having been worn by Miss Hargrave, thus leaving us in no doubt on the subject.
It was too late that night to follow up the trail, though every moment was precious. We had to waittherefore, until about three hours before dawn; when, mounting our steeds, we rode forward under the guidance of old Folkard, expecting at daybreak to reach the spot where the locket had been found. We agreed to breakfast there, and then to follow up the trail as soon as there was sufficient light to see it.
We carried out our plan, and the rising sun saw us pushing eagerly forward, the trail being sufficiently marked to enable the practical eyes of our guides to detect it.
To our surprise, instead of keeping to the right, as both old Folkard and Long Sam expected, it turned suddenly to the left, in the direction the main body had taken.
“There’s a reason for this,” observed Folkard, after we had ridden some way. “See, there was a message sent by the head chief to Black Eagle. Look, there is the trail of his horse, but whether the young chief joined the main body we shall know by and by.”
This information was a great disappointment, as it would render our enterprise far more difficult, for we should now have the whole tribe to deal with instead of a small party as we expected.
We were not to be deterred, however, and rode forward as rapidly as the necessary examination of the trail would allow. At last we had to halt and rest our horses, but we refrained from lighting a fire and ate our provisions cold.
As soon as possible we again pushed forward, but darkness coming on we had again to camp. Of course we did not light a fire, lest, should our enemies be in the neighbourhood, they might discover us.
Our faithful attendants kept watch, insisting that Story and I should lie down and take the rest we so greatly needed.
Next morning, instead of riding on together, Long Sam undertook to scout in advance, that we might not come suddenly upon the enemy, who it was believed could not be far ahead. We were passing round a wood when presently we heard a shout, and directly afterwards caught sight of Long Sam galloping towards us followed by an Indian—evidently a chief, from his war plumes and gaily bedecked shield,—but as we got nearer we saw that a rope was round the Indian’s body, and that he was attempting to free himself from it. He was on the point of drawing his knife when, by a sudden jerk, Long Sam brought him to the ground.
Folkard and Pierre, throwing themselves from their horses, rushed forward to seize him before he had regained his feet. Pierre, with his knife in his hand, was about to plunge it into the heart of the Indian; but I shouted out to him to desist, and Long Sam drawing tight the lasso, the next instant dragged the Indian clear of his frightened steed, which galloped off leaving him utterly helpless. Springing upon him, we then secured his arms by some leathern thongs, and removed the lasso from round his body.
“He is Black Eagle, no doubt about that,” cried old Folkard. “What have you done with the lady you carried off?” he added in the Indian tongue.
The prisoner refused to reply.
“If the chief will tell us what we want to know, he shall live; but, if not, he must be prepared to die,” said Long Sam.
An expression of irresolution passed over the Indian’s countenance.
“I would that I could tell the pale-faces where she is to be found, but she has been taken from me; though, if they will restore me to liberty, I will endeavour to find her,” he said at length.
“If the chief speaks the truth, he will find the palefaces willing to grant him any favour he may ask,” said Long Sam; then, turning to us, he added, “We must not trust the rascal. Though decked with fine feathers he has a cowardly heart, I suspect. We’ll keep him bound and take him with us. If he plays us false, knock him on the head without scruple; that’s my advice. We must not let his horse escape, however; wait here while I catch the animal.”
Saying this, Long Sam threw himself into the saddle, and taking his lasso which he had again coiled up, started off in the direction the Indian’s horse had taken. In a shorter time than I had expected, he returned leading the animal by the lasso which he had thrown over its neck, and whenever it became restive, a sudden jerk quickly brought it again under subjection.
“Of course, it won’t do to put the Redskin on his own horse, or he may be giving us the slip. He shall have mine,” said Long Sam, “and old ‘Knotty’ will stick by us, even if Mr Black Eagle should try and gallop off.”
We now, by means of the three hunters, endeavoured to obtain all the information we could from our captive.
He acknowledged that he had carried off the palefaced girl, and that he intended to make her his bride; but that he had been inveigled into the camp of his people, when she had been taken from him; and that, when he complained, he had been turned away to seek his own fortunes.
As we had no reason to doubt his word we asked him to guide us to wherever his people were now encamped, making him promise to warn us as we drew near the spot so that we might not be taken by surprise. We kept a bright look out on Black Eagle, Long Sam hinting gently that, should he show any treachery, he would be immediately shot through the head. The warning was not lost upon our friend. We rode on and on, until the sun sinking in the west showed us that we must again camp.
Black Eagle informed us that we should probably not reach his people until late on the following day. We had therefore to restrain our anxiety, and trust to his assurances that there were no Indians in the neighbourhood. We lighted a fire to cook a deer which Long Sam had shot just before we reached the camp.
We were seated round the fire enjoying our suppers, the first satisfactory meal we had taken since we started, when the well-known cry of a pack of wolves reached our ears. From the yelps and barks which they continued to utter in full chorus, we knew that they were in chase of some unfortunate animal which they hoped to drag to the ground.
The sounds grew nearer and nearer, but as the spot where we were encamped was surrounded with rocks and trees we could not see to any distance. At last Dick jumped up, saying he must have a look at the wolves and the animal they were chasing. Story and I quickly followed.
“They are not worth powder and shot,” observed Long Sam, but notwithstanding he came after us, as did indeed the whole party.
Just then the moon rose behind the cliffs, shedding a bright light over the rocky ground which surrounded the spot. From where we stood, we could see an animal, apparently a horse, dashing on at full speed with a savage pack of llovo wolves close at its heels. The next instant, as it came bounding on over the rocks, what was our horror to observe a female form lashed to its back.
To stop it in its mad career seemed impossible. The only hope was to shoot some of the wolves, and thus give a better chance for the escape of the horse. As I fired, I heard several other shots, and saw that most of the brutes, already at the horse’s heels, were rolled over. Still the condition of the female was perilous in the extreme. Unless we could catch our own horses, and overtake the affrighted steed, her destruction appeared inevitable. Scarcely had this thought flashed across my mind, when I saw Long Sam, who had thrown himself on horseback, galloping along with his lasso to intercept the runaway.
I ran as I had never run before, regardless of the wolves, in the same direction. As I passed by I saw that the pack had stopped and were already engaged in tearing to pieces the brutes we had shot. In an instant afterwards, it seemed, I observed Long Sam’s lasso cast with unerring aim over the neck of the frantic steed, which plunged and reared, but happily did not fall over. In another moment Sam had drawn the lasso so tightly round its neck that it was unable to move.
We sprang forward, cut the thongs which bound the female to the animal’s back, and lifting her to the ground, carried her out of danger. She still breathed, though apparently perfectly unconscious. The light of the moon showed us the features of Ellen Hargrave.
We did not stop to see what Long Sam did with the captured horse, but at once carried the young lady to the camp, when, by sprinkling her face with water and bathing her hands, she in a short time was restored to consciousness.
Her first impulse was to return thanks to heaven for her preservation. Looking up he recognised Dick and me.
“Where is Harry? Where is Mr Armitage?” she asked, evidently concluding that he must be of our party.
Dick replied that he was safe in the camp with her friends; that we had beaten the savages who had attacked them, and, finding that she had been carried off, had come in search of her. Though we did not inquire how she had been treated inthe Indian camp, she without hesitation told us that Black Eagle had been compelled to release her by his superior chief; when, having been kept in a wigwam by herself for some hours, she had been bound to a horse, which being led away from the camp had been driven out into the wilds. She was fully prepared, she said, for a lingering death, but still she prayed that she might be preserved. All hope however had gone when she heard in the distance the howls of the wolves, and the horse sprang forward on its mad career over the rocky ground. “The rest you know,” she added. “I would thankfully forget those fearful moments.”
I must make a long story short. Miss Hargrave appeared much recovered after a night’s rest in the hut we built for her, and the next morning we formed a litter on which we carried her a day’s journey; but on the following morning she insisted on mounting one of the horses, and, a side-saddle being prepared, she performed the rest of the distance to camp with out apparent suffering.
I need not say that she was received by her relatives as one returned from the dead, while they expressed their gratitude to us by every means in their power. Armitage, they stated, had been in a very precarious state, but he revived on seeing Miss Hargrave, and quickly regained his strength. We allowed the Black Eagle to go free with his horse and arms, he promising, in return for the merciful treatment he had received, that he would in future be the friend of the pale-faces. The wounded men having now recovered sufficiently to travel, camp was struck, and the train continued its course westward.
We, of course, felt ourselves in honour bound to escort our friends on their way; and, although we at first talked of leaving them as soon as all fear of an attack from the Indians had passed, we continued on from day to day.
Before the journey was over, it was generally known that Armitage was to marry Miss Hargrave, while Dick and Story, though supposed to be confirmed bachelors, lost their hearts to the two youngest Miss Praegers; and a very pleasant wedding it was which took place soon after our arrival at Mr Praeger’s new location. We frequently afterwards met in old England, where my friends took their wives, and many a long yarn was spun about our adventures in the wild regions of the “Far West.”