Scarcely three minutes had elapsed, when out of the timber, with garments as wet as water could make them and dripping fast, a fat form came shivering to our fire. Our alderman had taken a night bath in the creek—an adventure which he thus related in his own peculiar way:
"Below us in the woods is a big beaver pond, I don't know how deep. I seemed an hour going down, and didn't touch bottom then. I was fooled by the moon. (To be expected, though, as she's a female!) A few of her beams, thrown down through the trees, glittered on the water like drift wood. That sort of beams make poor timber for bridges, but I didn't know it then as well as I do now. One of them went from bank to bank, and I took it for a log, and got a ducking. How frightened I was, though, when my feet touched water and my body went, with a swash, right under it! I opened my mouth to shout and the water rushed in, and I was like a vessel sinking with open hatches. I took in so much, I was afraid I'd be waterlogged and never come up. I did, though, and found that rascally Irishman throwing sticks atmy head, and telling me to hold on to them. I told him to do that thing himself, and finally climbed ashore."
We afterward sought out our newly-found neighbors, the beavers, finding their pond a short distance below us on the creek, and a little lower down the dam itself. Many more trees had been cut for the latter than were used in its construction, several having been abandoned when almost ready to fall. We noticed that the butts of the prostrated trees were sharpened down gradually like the point of a lead-pencil, but both ways, instead of one, so that a tree cut nearly through met from above and below at the point of breaking, like the waist of an hour glass. This dam was most interesting to all of us, since it seemed so much to resemble the work of man. In this waste place of the earth, it really seemed almost like company, and we felt a strong desire to have a friendly conference with the builders. But these had formed this reservoir for the express purpose that in its depths they might escape intrusion, and now the whole regiment of engineers seemed asleep in barracks. Still our men secured a few very fine ones by trapping.
It appeared that the beavers were a vacillating set of architects, as all the trees which stood near the water and leaned over it at all, were gnawed more or less, and many of them left when almost ready to fall. The position of the dam had evidently been determined by the tree which fell first. From the reckless manner in which they had slashed around with their teeth, it was pertinently suggestedthat this colony must have obtained from the beaver congress a government subsidy. Having been acquainted with the art of building before man mastered it, the beaver race also probably understood how to do it at little personal expense.
The beaver appears to be distributed in considerable numbers all over the western half of Kansas, although the spring floods sweep away their dams almost every season. Once afterward, when lost on the plains for a day, I came across a beaver dam. Several hours of anxious suspense in the solitude, fearing to meet man lest he should prove a savage, begot a strange feeling of companionship when I came in sight of the rude structure of logs. If not civilization, it was a close imitation of it, and I laid down and fell into a refreshing sleep, soothed, in the fantasies of Dreamland, with the whir of looms and hum of factory life.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE CHASE—THE VALLEY OF THE SALINE—QUEER 'COONS—A BISON'S GAME OF BLUFF—IN PURSUIT—ALONGSIDE THE GAME—FIRING FROM THE SADDLE—A CHARGE AND A PANIC—FALSE HISTORY AGAIN—GOING FOR AMMUNITION—THE PROFESSOR'S LETTER—DISROBING THE VICTIM.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE CHASE—THE VALLEY OF THE SALINE—QUEER 'COONS—A BISON'S GAME OF BLUFF—IN PURSUIT—ALONGSIDE THE GAME—FIRING FROM THE SADDLE—A CHARGE AND A PANIC—FALSE HISTORY AGAIN—GOING FOR AMMUNITION—THE PROFESSOR'S LETTER—DISROBING THE VICTIM.
The early dawn of Wednesday morning saw us again astir. There was the same creeping of mist out of the valley to join the darkness as it fled from the plains above, and the same revealing of thousands of shaggy forms silently feeding in the distance. This time our beasts and our bodies were both in excellent condition for the chase. Joints gain and lose stiffness quickly in such a life. One morning the hunter feels as if the mill of life, though he turn its crank ever so slowly, had broken every bone in his body; twenty-four hours later may find him elastic and buoyant, as if youth had torn away from the embrace of the dead past and was with him again in all its pristine vigor. In the present case, too, that friend of early hours and foe of sleepy eyes, the coffee bean had done its work for us grandly.
Ten horsemen comprised the strength of the party which rode out of the valley just as daylight was coming into it. One of the hostlers and a Mexican were left in camp, the remainder of our force accompanying us, with a couple of wagons to bring in thegame. At his earnest solicitation, Shamus was permitted to abandon his post of duty temporarily, and go along also, with the understanding that he was to select choice pieces from the first suitable game we might bring down, and, returning to camp, be ready for our arrival with an ample dinner.
As we rode down the valley of Silver Creek, gangs of wild turkeys occasionally came out of the narrow skirt of timber, and, running along before us for short distances, re-entered it, and were lost to view again. Never having been hunted, they seemed destitute of the timidity and cunning which are the usual characteristics of this bird.
Twenty minutes' ride brought us to the Saline, the basin of which we found to be half a mile or thereabouts in width, and presenting a scene of great desolation. We were something like two hundred feet below the table-lands which came down to the narrow valley in barren canyons and masses of rock. The stream itself is narrow, with less than two feet of water running swiftly over the sands, and along its banks, at intervals, a few dwarfed cottonwood trees. Such was the Valley of the Saline at this point; yet thirty miles below, our men told us, the valley opened out into rich bottom lands, and was famous for its beauty.
While in the act of crossing, we came suddenly upon four small animals playing and fishing in the shallow water. With an exclamation of astonishment, the Professor had his glasses out in a moment. The guide informed us they were only 'coons, and such they were sure enough, with the peculiar color anddistinctive rings that made it impossible, on second look, to mistake them for any thing else. Truly, Nature seemed full of eccentricities in this remarkable region. The raccoons of natural history have always affected trees, and been considered,par excellence, creatures of the forest. I scarcely think the Professor would have been surprised, at that moment, to know that hereabouts fish were in the habit of climbing around in bushes, or stealing corn.
When they heard us, the four little fellows scampered away a few steps, and disappeared in some holes in the bank, in executing which maneuver one of them swam a yard or two across a deep spot, making good progress. We learned from our men that small colonies of these animals are frequently found along treeless creeks on the plains, living in the banks, and fishing for a living, by grasping the minnows and frogs, as they pass over the shallow places.
From the river we directed our course toward a deep canyon which, opening toward us as if the bluff had been riven asunder by some great convulsion of Nature, at its further end reached the level of the plains, and offered us an easy ascent. Evidence of volcanic action appeared along the canyon in the form of vitrified fragments and occasional masses of lava resembling rock.
The guide called our attention to an object in the ravine some distance ahead, which was enveloped in a cloud of dust. It was a buffalo, he said, indulging in a game of bluff. This statement not appearing very clear to our non-gambling party, he explainedthat the old fellow was "butting against the bank, as if he was going to break it all to pieces, when in reality he had no show at all."
As we could not approach nearer without frightening him, we stood still for a few minutes and watched him. He would back fifteen or twenty yards from the bluff, paw the ground for an instant, and then fling himself headlong against the wall of earth with a tremendous force, as was abundantly testified by the great clouds of dust that would rise in the air. For a moment afterward he would continue violently hooking the soil, as if the bowels of the earth were those of an adversary. We afterward repeatedly saw bulls engaged in this exercise. It is to the buffalo what the training school is to the prize-fighter, a developing of brute force for future conflicts.
The shock of such charges as we witnessed, if made by a domestic ox, would have broken his neck. Even our bison friend finally overdid the matter. Either because his foot tripped or the blow glanced, upon one of his charges, he fell down on his fore legs, and then rolled completely over. We thought this a good time to push forward, and accordingly did so at a gallop. Whether thinking himself knocked down by a foe, or because he heard the rattling of hoofs, we could not determine, but he suddenly sprang to his feet, whirled his shaggy head into bearing upon us, then turned and set away at full speed up the canyon, toward the plains above. The order was given to ply spur and close in upon him, if possible, or he would set the herds above in motion.
It was a mad ride that we had for the next tenminutes—across beds of gravel, among huge bowlders, and once or twice over great fissures in the earth which chilled my blood as I took a sort of bird's-eye view of their depths. In a lumbering run on ahead of us went the frightened bull, his feet occasionally sending back dashes of pebbles, while behind him rattled such a clattering of hoofs that the poor brute, if he could think at all, must have imagined he had butted open the door of Hades, and was now being pursued by its inmates.
There were mishaps in this our first buffalo hunt, of course, and among them, Muggs dropped a stirrup, and was obliged to support himself afterward on one foot—an awkward matter, resulting from his inconvenient English saddle, one of the kind which compels one, half the time, to sustain the whole body by the stirrups alone. We gained upon the game steadily, though no particular member of our party excelled as leader, first one being ahead and then the other. Cynocephalus developed wonderfully, and kept well up with his better conditioned neighbors.
What a magnificent prize for the hunter rushed on before us, swinging his ponderous head from side to side, for the purpose of getting better rear views—such an ungainly and shaggy animal, a perfect marvel of magnificent disproportions! It is well enough to go to Africa and hunt lions, and describe their majestic, flowing manes; but this bison, in mad flight ahead of us, could have furnished hair and mane enough to fit out half a dozen lions. At close quarters, too, he was fully as dangerous as the king of beasts.
We were close at his heels when the level of the plain was reached, and pursuer and pursued shot out upon it together. A large herd, feeding not five hundred yards away, was speedily in full flight northward. "A stern chase is a long chase," is no less true in buffalo hunting than in nautical matters. After considerable experience in the sport, I would recommend amateurs to get as near their game as possible before starting, and then try their horses' full metal. Once by the side of the game, he can keep there to the end. And so, after a terrible chase, when at times we had almost despaired of overtaking the old fellow, we now found it easy to keep alongside.
Our bull was a huge one, even among his species, and in such moments of excitement the imagination seems to have a trick of entering the chambers of the eye, and sliding its mirrors into a sort of double focus arrangement. With blood boiling until my heart seemed to bob up and down on its surface, I found myself riding parallel with the brute, and had I never seen him afterward, would have been almost willing to make oath that his size could be represented only by throwing a covering of buffalo robes over an elephant.
Every one in the party was firing, some having dropped their reins to use their carbines, and others yet guiding their horses with one hand, while they fired their holster revolvers with the other. Shooting from the saddle, with a horse going at full speed, needs practice to enable one to hit any thing smaller than a mammoth. You point the weapon, but at the instantyour finger presses the trigger, the muzzle may be directed toward the zenith or the earth. An experienced hunter steadies his arm, not allowing it to take part in the motion of his body, no matter how rough the latter may be. But we were not experienced hunters, and so, although such exclamations as, "That told!" "Mine went through!" and "Perfectly riddled!" were almost as numerous as the bullets, it was easy to see that the flying monster remained unharmed.
From the first, Mr. Colon had fired without taking any aim whatever, and so it happened that his gun, in describing its half circle consequent upon the rising and falling motion of the horse, at length went off at the proper moment, and we heard the thud of the ball as it struck. Dropping his head into position as if for a charge, the buffalo whirled sharply to the right, and passing directly between our horses, made off toward the main herd. But he soon slowed down to a walk, and as we again came up with him, we could see the blood trickling from his nose, which he held low like a sick ox.
In the excitement of the chase, and perhaps from being well blown before coming near the buffalo, our horses had hitherto shown no fear, but now, as the old bull stood there in all his savage hugeness, and the smell of blood tainted the air, they pushed, jostled, snorted, and pranced, so that it required all our efforts to keep them from downright flight. Even Dobeen's donkey kept his rider uncertain whether his destiny was to seek the ground or abide in the saddle.
The brute stood facing us, perhaps fifty yards off, his eyes rolling wildly from pain and fury, and the blood flowing freely through his nostrils.
We were waiting patiently for him to die, when suddenly the head went into position, like a Roman battering ram, and down he came upon us. We were utterly routed. No spur was necessary to prompt the horses, and I doubt if their former owners had ever known what latent speed their hides concealed. The whole thing was so sudden there was no time for thought, and all that I can remember is a confused sort of idea that each animal was going off at a tremendous pace, with the rider devoting his energies to sticking on. After the first few jumps, we were no longer an organized company, each brute taking his own course, and carrying us, like fragments of an explosion, in different directions. A marked exception, however, was Muggs' mule, which for the only time in his life, seemed unwilling to run away. After being the first to start, and assisting the others to stampede, he stopped suddenly short, depositing his rider something like ten yards ahead of him, in a manner quite the reverse of gentle.
We did not stop running as soon as we might have done. And I here enter protest against the nonsense indulged in on one point by most of the novelists who educate people in buffalo lore. When we halted, there stood the bull not thirty yards from the spot where he had first stopped, although we had located him, throughout more than half a mile's ride but a few feet from our horses' tails, and at times had even imagined we heard his deep panting. This mortifyingrecord would have been saved us had we known that a buffalo's charges never extend beyond a short distance. Either his adversary or his attack is speedily terminated. He does not pursue, in the "long, deep gallop" style at all. Yet I scarcely remember a single instance mentioned in those old books of western adventure, in which a buffalo's charge was for a less distance than a mile. In one case that I now recall, the race was nip and tuck between man and bison for over an hour, and the biped was finally enabled to save his life only by leaving the saddle and swinging into a tree! Such stories are simply balderdash.
As soon as possible after checking our horses, we rode back toward the wagon and the game, seeing in the former, the grinning faces of our men. The buffalo was still on his feet, but while we looked he slowly sunk to his knees, like an ox lying down to rest, and then quietly reposed on his belly, in the same attitude one sees domestic cattle assume when wishing a quiet chew of the cud. Had it not been for his bloody nose and wild eyes, he would have looked as peaceful as any bovine that ever breathed.
GOING AFTER AMMUNITION.GOING AFTER AMMUNITION.
Wishing to put the poor brute out of misery, we approached closer, and several of us dismounted, when a general fire was opened. Like a cat, the old fellow was on his feet again almost instantly. By a singular coincidence, our entire party just then discovered that we were out of ammunition, and in a body started for the wagon, to get some. Muggs afterward assured us that, at the time, he had just got his hand in, "so that every shot told, you know," andI have the authority of all for the deliberate statement that the bull would have been riddled before moving a foot had not the cartridges suddenly given out.
The effort of getting up had sent the mass of blood collected from inward bleeding surging out of the buffalo's nose, and, as we looked back, he was tottering feebly, and an instant afterward fell to the ground. There was no doubt now of his death, and we swarmed upon and around him. He was an immense old fellow, and his hide fairly covered with the scars of past battles. Inasmuch as this was our first trophy, it was determined to take his skin, and we forthwith seated the Professor on his great shaggy neck, with the horns forming arms for an impromptu hunter's throne. From thence he wrote upon leaves from his note-book a letter to his class at the East, which he permitted me to copy. I introduce it here, as showing that the blood of even a savan pulsates warmly amid such circumstances as now surrounded us.
"On a Buffalo, in the}Year of my Happiness, One.}
"Dear Class—I know the staid and quiet habits that characterize all of you, and that you are not given to hard riding and buffalo hunting. Yet this prairie air, with its rich fragrance and wild freeness, would give a new circulation to the blood of each one of you. Like a gale at sea, the breeze sweeps against one's cheeks, and the great billows of land rise on every side, as mountains of troubled ocean. Whynot desert the city and lose yourself for awhile in this great grand waste? Antelope are bounding and buffalo running on every side of us, while villages of prairie dogs bark at the flying herds. One grows in self-estimation after breathing this air, and, feeling that safety and life depend on his own exertions, learns to place reliance upon the powers which Nature has given him, with manly independence of artificial laws and police."While I am writing, the first victim of our prowess, a magnificent specimen of the American bison, is being skinned by our suite, the robe from which, when prepared, we intend sending you. The men say it must be dressed by some of the civilized Indians on the reserves, as the white man's tanning injures the value.
"Dear Class—I know the staid and quiet habits that characterize all of you, and that you are not given to hard riding and buffalo hunting. Yet this prairie air, with its rich fragrance and wild freeness, would give a new circulation to the blood of each one of you. Like a gale at sea, the breeze sweeps against one's cheeks, and the great billows of land rise on every side, as mountains of troubled ocean. Whynot desert the city and lose yourself for awhile in this great grand waste? Antelope are bounding and buffalo running on every side of us, while villages of prairie dogs bark at the flying herds. One grows in self-estimation after breathing this air, and, feeling that safety and life depend on his own exertions, learns to place reliance upon the powers which Nature has given him, with manly independence of artificial laws and police.
"While I am writing, the first victim of our prowess, a magnificent specimen of the American bison, is being skinned by our suite, the robe from which, when prepared, we intend sending you. The men say it must be dressed by some of the civilized Indians on the reserves, as the white man's tanning injures the value.
"The robe is now off, and half a ton of fat meat lies exposed. We shall only take the hind quarters, a portion of the hump, and the tongue. How glad the famishing wretches in the tenement houses of the city would be for an opportunity to pick those long ribs which we leave for the wolves! His horns are somewhat battered, but we have cut them off, to supplant hooks on a future hat-rack. One of the men has just taken a large musket ball from the animal's flank. That shot must have been received years ago, as the ball is an old fashioned one and is thickly encased in fat."The geological formation of the country is very interesting. I expect to examine the same morethoroughly after we have studied the animals traversing its surface. Yesterday, we had in camp a family from the Solomon, who were sufferers some months since from the fearful Indian massacre there. Their story was an exceedingly interesting one, though very sad. We shall visit them if duty calls that way. I must close. The men have thrown the skin in the wagon, flesh side up, and deposited the meat upon it, and all are now ready for further conquests."Your sincere friend and instructor,"H——."
"The robe is now off, and half a ton of fat meat lies exposed. We shall only take the hind quarters, a portion of the hump, and the tongue. How glad the famishing wretches in the tenement houses of the city would be for an opportunity to pick those long ribs which we leave for the wolves! His horns are somewhat battered, but we have cut them off, to supplant hooks on a future hat-rack. One of the men has just taken a large musket ball from the animal's flank. That shot must have been received years ago, as the ball is an old fashioned one and is thickly encased in fat.
"The geological formation of the country is very interesting. I expect to examine the same morethoroughly after we have studied the animals traversing its surface. Yesterday, we had in camp a family from the Solomon, who were sufferers some months since from the fearful Indian massacre there. Their story was an exceedingly interesting one, though very sad. We shall visit them if duty calls that way. I must close. The men have thrown the skin in the wagon, flesh side up, and deposited the meat upon it, and all are now ready for further conquests.
"Your sincere friend and instructor,
"H——."
STILL HUNTING—DARK OBJECTS AGAINST THE HORIZON—THE RED MAN AGAIN—RETREAT TO CAMP—PREPARATIONS FOR DEFENSE—SHAKING HANDS WITH DEATH—MR. COLON'S BUGS—THE EMBASSADORS—A NEW ALARM—MORE INDIANS—TERRIFIC BATTLE BETWEEN PAWNEES AND CHEYENNES—THEIR MODE OF FIGHTING—GOOD HORSEMANSHIP—A SCIENTIFIC PARTY AS SEXTONS—DITTO AS SURGEONS—CAMPS OF THE COMBATANTS—STEALING AWAY—AN APPARITION.
STILL HUNTING—DARK OBJECTS AGAINST THE HORIZON—THE RED MAN AGAIN—RETREAT TO CAMP—PREPARATIONS FOR DEFENSE—SHAKING HANDS WITH DEATH—MR. COLON'S BUGS—THE EMBASSADORS—A NEW ALARM—MORE INDIANS—TERRIFIC BATTLE BETWEEN PAWNEES AND CHEYENNES—THEIR MODE OF FIGHTING—GOOD HORSEMANSHIP—A SCIENTIFIC PARTY AS SEXTONS—DITTO AS SURGEONS—CAMPS OF THE COMBATANTS—STEALING AWAY—AN APPARITION.
Our further conquests for that day, it was decided, could best be effected by still hunting. The guide had suggested that, if we desired to fill our wagon with meat and get back to camp before night, we might profitably adopt the practice of old hunters, who, when they pursue bison, "mean business." The new tactics consisted of infantry evolutions, and required a dismounting of the cavalry. We were to crawl up to the herds, through ravines, and from those ambuscades open fire.
A mile away buffalo were feeding in large numbers, and our men pointed out several swales into which we could sink from the surface of the plains, and, following the winding lines, find cover until emerging among the herd. But while we were still gazing at the latter, sharp and distinct against the northern horizon appeared other objects, evidently mounted men, and men in that direction meant Indians. Itis wonderful how quickly one's ardor disappears, when, from being the hunter, he becomes the hunted. Our only desire now was, in Sachem's language, "a hankering arter camp," which we at once proceeded to gratify.
Back again with the remainder of our party, we felt quite safe. Indians of the plains seldom attack an armed body which is prepared for them; and then there had been no recent demonstrations of hostility. On the other hand, no massacre had yet occurred upon the frontier which was not unexpected. The whole life of many of these nomads has been a catalogue of surprises. It was Artemus Ward, I think, who knew mules that would be good for weeks, for the sake of getting a better opportunity of kicking a man. These savages will do the same for the sake of killing one.
Many an armed man, fully capable of defending himself, has thus been thrown off his guard, and sent suddenly into eternity. The cunning savage, seeing his foe prepared, approaches with signs of friendship, and cries of "How, how?"—Indian and short for "How are you?" Their extended hands meet, and as the palms touch, the pale-face shakes hands with death; for, while his fingers are held fast in that treacherous clasp, some other savage brains him from behind, or sheaths a knife in his heart, and the betrayed white, jerked forward with a fiendish laugh, kisses the grass with bloody lips. We had been repeatedly warned by our guides that, when in the minority, the only safe way to hold councils with the Indians is at rifle range. Even if bound by treaty, aknowledge that they can take your scalp without losing their own, is like binding a thief with threads of gold: the very power which should restrain, is in itself a temptation.
Our little camp soon bristled all over with defiance, a sort of mammoth porcupine presenting points at every angle for the enemy's consideration. Our animals were put safely under cover among the trees, where they could not be easily stampeded; the wagons were ranged in a crescent, forming excellent defense for our exposed side; and pockets were hurriedly filled with ammunition. As we were thus earnestly preparing for war, an entomological accident occurred. Sachem, while excitedly thrusting a handful of cartridges into Mr. Colon's pockets, suddenly drew back his hand with an expression of alarm, bringing with it a whole assortment of bugs. One of the pocket-cases of our entomologist had opened, and the inmates, imprisoned but that morning, were now swarming over our fat friend's fingers, and up his arm, which he was shaking vigorously. There they were—rare bugs and plethoric spiders, together with one lively young lizard—all clinging to the limb which had brought them rescue from their cavernous cell with more tenacity than if they had been stuck on with Spalding's glue. Poor Sachem! While he danced and fumed, and gave his opinion of bug-men generally, Mr. Colon cried—"O, my bugs, my beautiful bugs!" and grasped eagerly at his vanishing treasures. Our alderman disengaged himself at length from his noxious visitors, and meanwhile the other members of theparty, having provided themselves, poured into the other pocket of the grieved naturalist a further supply of cartridges, thereby utterly annihilating the remainder of his collection.
Our preparations being concluded, and still no signs of the Indians, we sat down to dinner. Shamus was terribly agitated, and the shades of dyspepsia hovered over his cooking; but, although the coffee was muddy and the meat burned, we were in no mood to take exceptions. There was considerable determination visible on the faces of all our party. The red man was getting to be as sore a trouble to us as the black man had been to politicians, and having already lost a day on his account, we were now fully resolved to hold our ground. We had seen the savage in all the terrors of his war-paint, and felt a very comforting degree of assurance that a dozen cool-headed hunters, mostly armed with breech-loaders, possessed the odds.
At length, along the edge of the breaks beyond the Saline, a dark object appeared, followed by another and then another in rapid succession, until forty unmistakable Indians came in sight, and were bearing directly toward us, following the tracks of our wagons. Half a mile off they halted, and then we saw one big fellow ride forward alone. His form seemed a familiar one, and soon it revealed itself as that of our late friend, White Wolf. Now we had, but a few days before, in the space of four brief hours, concluded at least forty treaties of peace with this chief and his drunken braves; yet, remembering past history, we should have wanted at least as many more treaties,before taking the chances of having one of them kept, and admitting the painted heathens before us to full confidence and fellowship.
As the leader of our party, it devolved upon the Professor to go forward and meet the chief, which he promptly did, taking along our man who was acting in Cody's place as guide, to assist him in comprehending the savage's wishes. Midway between us the respective embassadors met. We heard the chief's loud "How, how?" and saw their hand-shaking, and could not help wondering what the Philosopher's class would say, could they have beheld their honored tutor officiating as a frontispiece for such a savage background.
White Wolf stated that he had been out after Pawnees; he could not find them, and so "Indian felt heap bad!" Just at this instant a loud, quick cry came from his knot of warriors, who were now manifesting the wildest excitement, lashing up their ponies, stringing their bows, and making other preparations as if for a fight. Without a word, the chief turned and ran for dear life toward his band, while the Professor and our guide wheeled and ran for dear life toward us. Seldom has the man of science made such progress as did the respected leader of our expedition then. The guide called, "Cover us with your guns!"—a command which we immediately proceeded to obey, evidently to the intense alarm of the Professor, for so completely were they covered, that I doubt if either would have escaped, had we been called upon to fire.
Our first thought had been a suspicion of treachery,but we now saw that the Cheyennes had faced toward the hills, and, following their gaze, we beheld coming down their trail, and upon the tracks of our wagon, another band of mounted Indians. It soon became clear to us that the Pawnees, the Wolf's failure to find whom had made that noble red man feel "heap bad," were coming to find him. We counted them riding along, twenty-five in all—inferior in numbers, it was true, but superior to the Cheyennes in respect to their arms, so that, upon the whole, the two forces now about to come together were not unevenly matched. The Pawnees live beyond the Platte, and for years have been friendly to the whites, even serving in the wars against the other tribes on several occasions.
What a stir there was in the late peaceful valley! The buffalo that were lately feeding along the brow of the plateau had all fled, and here right before us were sixty-five native Americans, bent upon killing each other off, directly under the eyes of their traditional destroyer, the white man. The Professor said it forcibly suggested to his mind some of the fearful gladiatorial tragedies of antiquity. Sachem responded that he wasn't much of a Roman himself, but he could say that in this show he was very glad we occupied the box-seat, the safest place anywhere around there; and we all decided that it must be a face-to-face fight, in which neither party dare run, as that would be disorganization and destruction.
It was strange to see these wild Ishmaelites of the plains warring against each other. Over the wide territory, broad enough for thousands of such pitifultribes, they had sought out each other for a bloody duel, like two gangs of pirates in combat on mid-ocean; and, like them, if either or both were killed, the world would be all the better for it. It was clearly what would be called, on Wall street, a "brokers' war," in which, when the operators are preying on each other, outsiders are safe.
While we were looking, a wild, disagreeable shout came up from the twenty-five Pawnees, as they charged down into the valley, which was promptly responded to by fierce yells from the forty Cheyennes.
"Let it be our task to bury the dead," said the Professor, looking toward the wagon in which rested his geological spade. "It is extremely problematical whether any of these red men will go out of the valley alive."
And thus another wonderful change had come over the spirit of our dream. From being a scientific and sporting expedition, we had been suddenly metamorphosed into a gang of sextons, who, in a valley among the buffaloes, were witnessing an Indian battle, and waiting to bury the slain.
As the Pawnees came down at full gallop, the Cheyennes lashed up their ponies to meet them. Then came the crack of pistols, and a perfect storm of arrows passed and crossed each other in mid-air. As the combatants met, we could see them poking lances at each other's ribs for an instant, and then each side retreated to its starting point. Charge first was ended. We gazed over the battle-field to count the dead, but to our surprise none appeared.
BATTLE BETWEEN CHEYENNES AND PAWNEES.BATTLE BETWEEN CHEYENNES AND PAWNEES.
A few minutes were spent by both parties in ageneral overhauling of their equipments, and then another charge was made. They rode across each other's fronts and around in circles, firing their arrows and yelling like demons, and occasionally, when two combatants accidentally got close together, prodding away with lances. The oddest part of the whole terrible tragedy to us was that the charges looked, when closely approaching each other, as if they were being made by two riderless bands of wild ponies.
The Indians would lie along that side of their horses which was turned away from the enemy, and fire their pistols and shoot their arrows from under the animals' necks, thus leaving exposed in the saddle only that portion of the savage anatomy which was capable of receiving the largest number of arrows with results the least possibly dangerous. I noticed one fat old fellow whose pony carried him out of battle with two arrows sticking in the portion thus unprotected, like pins in a cushion. He still kept up his yelling, but it struck me that there was a touch of anguish in the tone, and I felt confident that he would not sit down and tell his children of the battle for some time to come.
We saw one exhibition of horsemanship which especially excited our admiration. An arrow struck a Cheyenne on the forehead, glancing off, but stunning him so with its iron point, that, after swaying in the saddle for an instant, he fell to the earth. Another of the tribe, who was following at full speed, leaned toward the ground, and checking his pony but slightly, seized the prostrate warrior by the waistband,and, flinging him across his horse in front of the saddle, rode on out of the battle.
For several hours—indeed until the sun was low in the heavens and the shadows crept into the valley—this terrible fray continued, the charging, shouting, and firing being kept up until both combatants had worked down the river so far that we could no longer see them.
It was approaching the dusk of evening when White Wolf and his band rode back. We counted them and found the original forty still alive. The chief assured us they had killed "heap Pawnees," whereupon some of us sallied forth to visit the battle-field. Three dead ponies lay there, and with a disagreeable sensation we looked around, expecting to discover the mangled riders near by. Not one was visible, however, nor even the least sign of their blood. The grass was not sodden with gore, nor did a single rigid arm or aboriginal toe stick up in the gathering gloom. Neither the wolves or buzzards gathered over the field, and slowly the conviction dawned upon us that Indian battles, like some other things, are not always what they seem.
As we turned again toward camp, the Professor, dragging his spade after him, suggested that, in accordance with the reputed habits of these savages, the Pawnees had perhaps carried off their dead. But at the instant, only a short distance down the river, the camp-fire of that miserable and all but annihilated band glimmered forth. It was decidedly too bold and cheerful for the use of twenty-five ghosts, and we knew then that White Wolf had lied.
That valorous chieftain we found limping around outside our wagons, with a lance-cut in one of his legs, while several of his warriors had arrow-wounds, and one a pistol-shot, none of the injuries, however, being dangerous. The Pawnees probably suffered with equal severity; and this was the sum total of the day's frightful carnage—the entire result of all the fierce display that we had witnessed.
Not long afterward, in front of a Government fort, and in plain sight of the garrison, a battle occurred between two large parties of rival tribes, about equal in numbers. Back and forth, amid furious cries and clouds of arrows, the hostile savages charged. Noon saw the affair commenced, and sunset scarcely beheld its ending. The Government report states, if my memory serves me correctly, that one Indian and two horses were killed; and a shade of doubt still exists among the witnesses whether that one unlucky warrior did not break his neck by the fall of his pony!
These savages fight on horseback, and are neither bold nor successful, except when the attacking party is overwhelming in numbers, and then the affair becomes a massacre. All this knowledge came to us afterward, but our first introduction to it was a surprise. Kind-hearted man though he was, I think the resultless ending of the battle disconcerted even the Professor. Having nerved one's self to expect horrors, it is natural to seek, on the gloomy mirror of fate, some rays of glimmering light which can be turned to advantage. I think the Professor's rays, had the contest proved as sanguinary as we first anticipated,would have found their focus in some stout cask containing a nicely-pickled Pawnee or Cheyenneen routeto a distant dissecting table. It would have been rather a novel way, I have always thought, of sending the untutored savage to college.
We made a requisition upon our medicine-chest, and dressed the wounds of the suffering warriors. White Wolf stripped to the waist, and, exposing his broad, muscular form, exhibited thirty-six scars, where, in different battles, lances and arrows had struck him. It struck us all as a rather remarkable circumstance, though we prudently refrained from commenting upon it just then, that nearly all these scars were on his back.
The chief expressed great friendship for us, and I really believe he felt it. Sachem's stout form was especially the object of his admiration. Between these two worthies a very cordial regard seemed to be springing up, until White Wolf unluckily offered him an Indian bride and a hundred buffalo robes, if he would go with the band to its wigwams on the Arkansas—a proposition which disgusted our alderman beyond measure. Savages, sooner or later, generally scalp white sons-in-law, and it would be "heap good" for the Cheyenne to have such an opportunity always handy. Sachem declined the honor with all the dignity he could command, and carefully avoided "the match-making old heathen," as he termed him, for the remainder of the evening.
We kept early hours that night. Guard was doubled, to prevent any possible treachery, and a sleepy party laid down to rest. The Cheyennes wentinto camp a few hundred yards up the creek, a barely perceptible light, looking from our tents like a fire-fly, marking the spot.
When a "cold camp" is discovered on the plains, the experienced frontiersman can always determine at once whether white men or Indians made it, by the size of the ash-heap. The former, even when trying to make their fire a small one, will consume in one evening as much fuel as would last the red man a half-moon. The latter, putting together two or three buffalo chips, or as many twigs, will huddle over them when ignited, and extract warmth and heat enough for cooking from a flame that could scarcely be seen twenty yards.
The two opposing parties, which were now resting only a mile or so apart, had each tested the other's metal, and, as the sequel proved, found them foemen worthy of theirsteal. From the unconcealed fires in their respective camps, we concluded that neither side had any intention of attacking, or fear of being attacked.
It was early in the dawn of the next morning when we were startled from our slumbers by a terrific cry from Shamus, which brought all of us to our tent-doors, with rifles in hand ready to do battle, in the shortest possible time. Looking out, we beheld our cook standing near the first preparations of breakfast, and gazing with astonished eyes toward the darkness under the trees, among which we heard, or at least imagined we heard, the stealthy steps of moccasined feet. In answer to our interrogatories, Shamus stated that just as he was putting the meat inthe pan, he saw the light of the fire reflected, for an instant, on a painted face peering out at him from behind a tree. "Faith, but I shaved the lad's head wid the skillet!" said Dobeen, and sure enough we found that article of culinary equipment lying at the foot of the suspected cottonwood, badly bent from contact with something, but whether that something was the bark or a painted skull is known only to that skulking Cheyenne.
We waited until broad daylight, but no further disturbance occurred, and what was strangest of all, the valley both above and below us seemed entirely destitute of either Pawnee or Cheyenne. A reconnoissance, which was made by the Professor, Mr. Colon, and our guide, developed the fact that not being able to steal any thing else, the savages had executed the difficult military maneuver of stealing away. Just before daybreak, the Pawnees had gone due north, and the Cheyennes, about the same time, due south. As White Wolf had expressed a cold-blooded intention of exterminating the remnant of his foes in the morning, the pitying stars may have taken the matter in hand and misled him; and if so, how disappointed that blood-thirsty band must have been when their path brought them into their own village, instead of the Pawnee camp! In confirmation of this astrological suggestion, I may say that while in Topeka I saw "stars," on several occasions, leading Indians in the opposite direction from that in which they wished to go.
In due time our party sat down to another plentiful breakfast, which was eaten with all the morerelish because we had all that little world to ourselves again. Discussing Dobeen's apparition, we finally came to the unanimous conclusion that it was some Indian who, while his brothers stole away, had straggled behind, to pick up a keepsake. I think that hideous face among the trees never entirely ceased to haunt the chamber of Dobeen's memory. He shied as badly as did Muggs' mule, when in strange timber, and was ever afterward a warm advocate for pitching camp on the open prairie.
In justice to White Wolf, it should be stated that we afterward learned that while charging in such a mistaken direction after Pawnees that morning, he met two men from Hays City, out after buffalo meat. Finding that they were from the village which had been kind to him, he loaded their wagons with fat quarters, instead of filling their bodies with arrows, as they had first expected, and sent them home rejoicing.
STALKING THE BISON—BUFFALO AS OXEN—EXPENSIVE POWER—A BUFFALO AT A LUNATIC ASYLUM—THE GATEWAY TO THE HERDS—INFERNAL GRAPE-SHOT—NATURE'S BOMB-SHELLS—CRAWLING BEDOUINS—"THAR THEY HUMP"—THE SLAUGHTER BEGUN—AN INEFFECTUAL CHARGE—"KETCHING THE CRITTER"—RETURN TO CAMP—CALVES' HEAD ON THE STOMACH—AN UNPLEASANT EPISODE—WOLF BAITING, AND HOW IT IS DONE.
STALKING THE BISON—BUFFALO AS OXEN—EXPENSIVE POWER—A BUFFALO AT A LUNATIC ASYLUM—THE GATEWAY TO THE HERDS—INFERNAL GRAPE-SHOT—NATURE'S BOMB-SHELLS—CRAWLING BEDOUINS—"THAR THEY HUMP"—THE SLAUGHTER BEGUN—AN INEFFECTUAL CHARGE—"KETCHING THE CRITTER"—RETURN TO CAMP—CALVES' HEAD ON THE STOMACH—AN UNPLEASANT EPISODE—WOLF BAITING, AND HOW IT IS DONE.
Breakfast over, the day's work was planned out. We were desirous of loading one of our wagons with game, and sending it back to Hays, from whence the meat could be forwarded by express to distant friends, and serve as tidings from camp, of "all's well." The other wagon we decided to keep with us. Horseback hunting, although fine sport, evidently would not, in our hands, prove sufficiently expeditious in procuring meat. Our guide adduced another argument as follows: "Yer see, gents, if yer want ter ship meat by rail, it won't do ter run it eight or ten miles, like a fox, and git it all heated up. Ther jints must be cool, or they'll spile." Stalking the bison was to be our day's sport, therefore, and we were speedily off, taking only the two wagons, the riding animals being all left in camp. Shamus prepared a lunch for us, as we did not expect to return for dinner before dusk.
Following the same route as the day before, wesoon ascended the Saline "breaks," and emerged on the plains above. Looking to us as if they had not changed position for twenty-four hours, the buffalo herds still covered the face of the country, busy as ever in their constant occupation of feeding. For animals which perform no labor, they have an egregious appetite, eating as if they were Nature's lawn-gardeners, and were under contract with her to keep the grass shaved.
What an immense aggregate of animal power was running to waste before us. Those huge shoulders, to which the whole body seemed simply a base, were just the things for neck-yokes. Others, indeed, had thought the same before us, and tried to utilize these wild oxen. A gentleman at Salina, Kansas, obtained two buffalo calves, and trained them carefully to the yoke. They pulled admirably, but their very strength proved a temptation to them. A pasture-fence was no obstacle in the way of their sweet will. Not that they went over it, but they simply walked through it, boards being crushed as readily as a willow thicket. In summer they took the shortest road to water, regardless of intervening obstructions, and they thought nothing of flinging themselves over a perpendicular bank, wagon and all. After carefully calculating the result of his experiment at the end of the first year, the owner decided that, although he undoubtedly had a large amount of power on hand, he could obtain a similar quantity, at less expense, by buying a couple of steam-engines.
A few months previous to our trip, a contractor on the Kansas Pacific Railroad determined to domesticatea young bison bull, and accordingly took it to his home at Cincinnati. Proving a cross customer, he presented it to the Longview Lunatic Asylum, near that city, but there was no inmate insane enough to occupy the yard simultaneously with Taurus for any length of time. The first day he charged among the lunatics in a reckless manner, eliciting surprising activity of crazy legs. If exercise for their minds was what the poor creatures needed, they certainly obtained it, by calculating when and where to dodge.
Without loss of time, we set about finding a gateway into the herds. Looking at the surface before us, it appeared a level, unbroken plain, quite to the verge where it rolled up against the distant horizon. One would have maintained that even a ditch, if there, might be traced in its meanderings across the smooth brown floor. Yet deep ravines, miles in length, wound in and out among the herds, though to us entirely invisible. A short search discovered one of these, which promised to answer our purpose, and to lead to a spot where a large number of cows and calves were feeding. Fortunately the wind was north, so that we could creep into its teeth without sending to the timid mothers any tell-tale taint.
The wagons were stopped, and we got out, and descending into the hollow, moved forward. The walls on either side seemed disagreeably close. All around us was animal life, a small portion of which would have been sufficient, if so disposed, to make the concealed path which we were traversing a veritable "last ditch" to us. As we entered the ravine, some cayotes slunk out of it ahead of us, and one largegray wolf, with long gallop, disappeared over the banks. The temptation to fire at them was very strong, but prudence and the guide forbade.
We picked up some very fine specimens of "infernal grape," in the form of nearly round balls of iron pyrites. They lay upon the surface like canister-shot upon a battle-field. It seemed as if during the early period, when Mother Earth began to cool off a little, her fiery heart still palpitated so violently under her thin bodice, that beads of the molten life within, like drops of perspiration, had forced their way through, and, in cooling, had retained their bubble-like form. We could have picked up a half-bushel of them which would have made very fair aliment for cannon. The dogs of war could have spit them out as spitefully and fatally against human hearts as if the morsels had been prepared by human hands. From such well-molded shot, of no mortal make, Milton might have obtained his charges for those first cannon which the traitor-angel invented and employed against the embattled hosts of heaven. Shamus, when he afterward became acquainted with the specimens, called them "a rattlin' shower of witches' pebbles."
We also passed large surfaces of white rock, which were sprinkled all over with dark, hollow balls, of a vitrified substance. Most of them were imbedded midway in the rock, leaving a hemisphere exposed which, in color and form, was an exact counterpart of a large bomb. If the reader has ever seen a shell partly imbedded in the substance against which it was fired, this description will be perfectly plain.There were indications that a volcano had once existed in this vicinity, and it seemed highly probable that the red-hot balls which it projected into air had fallen and cooled in the soft formation adjacent, still retaining their original shape.
We should have lingered longer over these geological curiosities, had not the premonitory symptoms of a scientific lecture from the Professor alarmed our guide into the remonstrance, "You're burnin' daylight, gents!" and thus warned, we pushed forward.
A few hundred yards further brought us to the spot for commencing active operations. Dropping upon hands and knees, we began crawling along the side of the ravine in a line, pushing our guns before us. We knew that the buffalo must be very close, for we could hear the measured cropping of their teeth upon the grass. They seemed to be feeding toward us, as we slowly drew up to the level. I found myself trembling all over, so nervous that the cracking of a weed under our guns sounded to me as loud as a pistol-shot.
I looked around, and the stories which I had read in my youth of adventures in oriental lands rose fresh to my memory. I almost imagined our party a dozen wild Bedouins, creeping from ambush to fire upon a caravan, the first note of alarm to which would be a storm of musketry. Unshaven faces, soiled clothes, and rough hair, assisted us to the personation, and if aught else was needed to carry out the fancy, it soon came in a low "Hist!" from the guide, as he pointed to the level above us. Followingthe direction of his finger, we saw some hairy lumps, about the size of muffs, not fifty yards in front of us, bobbing up and down just above the line which defined the prairie's edge against the sky. For an instant, we supposed them to be small animals of some sort, playing on the slope, but the low voice of the guide said, "Thar they hump, gents!" and we caught the word at once, just as the whaler does the welcome cry of "There she blows," from the look-out aloft. What we saw, of course, were the humps of buffaloes moving slowly forward as they fed. At a word from our guide, we halted for last preparations.
"Fire at the nearest cows, gents," he said, "and if you get one down, and keep hid, you'll have lots of shots at the bulls gatherin' round."
Muggs was continually getting his gun crosswise, so that should it go off ahead of time, as usual, it would shoot somebody on the left, and kick some one on the right. Just ahead of us, a prairie dog sat on his castle wall, and barked constantly. But, fortunately, neither his signals nor our grumbled remonstrances to the Briton seemed to attract the attention of the herd in the least degree.
A few more feet of cautious crawling, and several buffaloes stood revealed, a cow and calf among the number. The mother espied us, and lifting her uncouth head, with its crooked, homely horns, regarded us for an instant with a quiet sort of feminine curiosity, and then went to feeding again. She probably considered us a parcel of sneaking wolves, and being conscious of having hosts of protectorsnear her, was not at all frightened. Almost simultaneously, the guns of the whole party were at shoulder, and just as the cow lifted her head again, to watch the movement, we fired. The fate of that bison was as effectually sealed as that of the condemned army horse which was first used to tell Paris and the world the terrors of the mitrailleuse. The poor creature gave a quick whirl to the right, made two convulsive jumps, and then stood still. She dropped her nose, a gush of blood following fast; her whole frame shuddered, as the air from the lungs tried to force its way through the clotted tide, and then she fell dead, almost crushing the calf also. The smell of the blood seemed to excite the bulls more than the report of the guns, which had only startled them for an instant. Some stood stupidly snuffing about the prostrate victim, while others, straightening out their tails, marched uneasily around.
Lying on the ground, and our heads only visible, we kept up a constant firing. It was almost impossible not to hit some of the old bulls. The veterans were wounded rapidly, and in all portions of their bodies. One old fellow, who had been standing with his rear to us, suddenly took it into his head to run for dear life, and away he went accordingly, with his hams looking very much like the end of a huge pepper-box. Two or three others soon began to show signs of grogginess, being drunk with the blood which was collecting internally from their many wounds.
One bulky and distressed specimen suddenlycaught a glimpse of the Professor's hat. Forthwith the tail was straightened and raised stiffly into the air, the head was lowered, and down he came upon us at full charge. Such a proceeding, a few days before, would simply have resolved itself into a question whether he could catch us or not. Now, however, we stood our ground, or rather we lay upon it very firmly, while enough of us took careful aim to batter his bones fast and sorely. Before taking twenty steps, he was limping from a shattered foreleg, and in a moment more came to a sullen halt, and shook his old head in impotent rage. His eyes were fixed fiercely upon ours; he evidently desired nothing in the world so much as to get forward for a closer acquaintance, but his broken bones forbade. We fired rapidly, and fairly loaded his body with lead before he allowed death to trip him from his feet. He never took his eyes from off us, until the body rolled over, and I thanked our breech-loaders which had prevented the poor beast from having a fair chance.
Three buffalo were down, as the result of our first "stalk." The herd had fled, but the calf we had first seen remained standing stupidly by his dead mother. "Let's ketch the critter," said our guide, and to catch him we accordingly prepared. The first movement was to surround him, which done, we began closing in upon him. He was hardly larger than a good-sized goat, and we feared might succeed in dodging us, but as the circle narrowed, our hopes of securing a live specimen increased. Suddenly, the little fellow seemed aware of his danger, and, whirlingabout, with head down, made a dart for the open space between Sachem and the guide. As they closed to prevent his escape, our fat friend went down with a butt in the stomach, which, although far from pleasant, was nevertheless the occasion of sufficient delay on the part of the calf to enable the guide and Semi-Colon to lay firm hold upon him. It was wonderful what a warlike little fellow he proved, butting undauntedly at our legs, and uttering, as he did so, a hissing noise. "But me no butts," exclaimed the Professor, with a facetiousness which from him was almost as amusing to the rest of us as the pugnacity of the calf, as he sprang aside to avoid a blow on the knee, and suddenly recognized Duty's call in another direction. It was not long, however, before the little animal was securely bound, and laid in one of the wagons, which by this time had come up.
The work of skinning and cutting up our game now began, the robe of the cow proving finer than that from either of the others. Our men told us that from one position old hunters sometimes shoot down a dozen buffalo before the herd takes flight. Success is much more probable if the first victim is a female.
Other herds invited our attention, and by three o'clock in the afternoon we had twenty quarters secured, and were returning to camp. Only the first three robes had been taken off, the skin being left on the rest of the meat, the better to preserve it from soiling.
Such hunting fatigues one, and we were glad enough to see the smoke of our fire rising from thevalley, and to anticipate the dinner which we felt was waiting for us. The plains tired us, and so did conversation, and all instinctively felt that any attempt at a joke, in our hungry, worn out condition, would have caused an all but fiendish state of feeling. Momus himself could not have made that party smile. Most of us had taken part in cutting up the carcasses, and as we now rode home, sitting on the skin-covered quarters, we looked like a party of butchers returning from the slaughter-pens.
As we drew close to camp, how goodly a sight did Shamus seem, in his white apron, bidding us "Hurry to yer dinner!" while backing up his invitation were the brown turkeys, the stews and roasts, the white bread and yellow butter, and a clean table-cloth. On the spot, we could have pardoned Shamus all his notions of witchcraft, and I think that Sachem's charity just then would even have covered our cook's late weakness in the line of "spooning." The Professor's science, Colon's philanthropy, Sachem's wealth of worldly wisdom, and Muggs' British self-complacency, all combined, offered no such consolation, in this hour of sober realities, as the simple Irishman, with his basting-spoon.
Water from the brook and towels from the chest soon removed blood and dust, and dinner followed. Shamus had many a mark scored against Sachem for attacks on himself and his ancestry, and ventured during dinner to rub out one, by asking Tammany, in a very respectful manner, and as if it was a matter of ourcuisine, whether calves' heads agreed with his stomach.
What would have been called in Washington, "an unpleasant episode," was discovered by Muggs in the center of a biscuit. Taking a hearty British bite from it, various hairy lines followed the morsel into his mouth, and caught among his teeth. Examination revealed one of Mr. Colon's choicest spiders, which by some means had effected his escape and crawled into the dough. It was hard to tell which was most incensed, the Briton or the entomologist. Sachem remarked that the specimen was much kneaded, and added it to our bill of fare as "game, breaded."
As night approached, our Mexicans prepared for wolf-baiting. During the day they had shot two or three old bulls, which wandered within half a mile of camp, and now the swarthy fellows intended to turn an honest penny. For these purposes professional hunters, and occasionally teamsters on the plains, provide themselves with bottles of strychnine, and a quantity of this was accordingly produced. We went with the men to see the operation, as it clearly came within the province of our studies. With their knives the Mexicans cut from the carcass lumps of flesh about the size of one's fist, into which gashes were made, doses of strychnine inserted, and the flesh then pressed together again. The balls, thus charged, were scattered close around the carcass, and a few laid upon it. Cuts were also made, and the poison introduced in various parts of the hams. As many as fifty doses were thus prepared, and we then returned to camp.
No cayote serenade occurred that night, the musiciansevidently being busy drawing sweetness from the cords of the slain. A solemn hush lay over the land, for the bisons are a quiet race, and, except in novels, never take to roaring any more than they do to ten-mile charges.
THE CAYOTES' STRYCHNINE FEAST—CAPTURING A TIMBER WOLF—A FEW CORDS OF VICTIMS—WHAT THE LAW CONSIDERS "INDIAN TAN"—"FINISHING" THE NEW YORK MARKET—A NEW YORK FARMER'S OPINION OF OUR GRAY WOLF—WESTWARD AGAIN—EPISODES IN OUR JOURNEY—THE WILD HUNTRESS OF THE PLAINS—WAS OUR GUIDE A MURDERER?—THE READER JOINS US IN A BUFFALO CHASE—THE DYING AGONIES.
THE CAYOTES' STRYCHNINE FEAST—CAPTURING A TIMBER WOLF—A FEW CORDS OF VICTIMS—WHAT THE LAW CONSIDERS "INDIAN TAN"—"FINISHING" THE NEW YORK MARKET—A NEW YORK FARMER'S OPINION OF OUR GRAY WOLF—WESTWARD AGAIN—EPISODES IN OUR JOURNEY—THE WILD HUNTRESS OF THE PLAINS—WAS OUR GUIDE A MURDERER?—THE READER JOINS US IN A BUFFALO CHASE—THE DYING AGONIES.
The next day's life began, as did the previous one, before sunrise, and while breakfast was cooking, we followed the Mexicans down to examine their baits. The ground around the carcasses was flecked with forms which, in the early light, looked like sleeping sheep. A half-dozen or more wolves, which were still feeding, scampered away at our approach. From the number of animals lying around, we at first supposed most of them simply gorged, but the rapid, satisfied jabbering of the Mexicans quickly convinced us that the strychnine had been doing its work more effectually than we had given it credit for. Twenty-three dead wolves were found, and the even two dozen was made up by a large specimen of the gray variety—or timber-wolf, as it is called in contradistinction from the cayote—who was exceedingly sick, and went rolling about in vain efforts to get out of the way.
Before proceeding to skin the dead wolves, theMexicans captured this old fellow and haltered him, by carbine straps, to the horns of one of the buffalo carcasses, near which he sat on his haunches, with eyes yellow from rage and fright. Just to stir him up, we tossed him a piece of bone; he caught it between his long fangs with a click that made our nerves twitch. Man never appreciates the wonderful command that God gave him over the other animals until away from his fellows, and surrounded by the wild beasts of the solitudes, in all their native fierceness. Here were a few mortals of us encompassed by wolves, in sufficient numbers and power to annihilate our party, and yet one solitary man walking toward them would have put the whole brute multitude to flight.
Although we wondered, at the time, that so many wolves were gathered from a single baiting, we soon learned that this success was by no means unusual. At Grinnel Station, where a corporal's guard was stationed, we afterward saw over forty dead wolves, and most of them of the gray variety, stacked up, like cord-wood, as the result of one night's poisoning by the soldiers.
The remainder of this day was devoted to stalking, and resulted in our obtaining a sufficiency of robes and meat to justify us in sending the two Mexican wagons back with them to Hays. Our two captives, the buffalo calf and wolf, went also. The history of that shipment merits brief chronicling.
The robes went to St. Louis, to a man who advertised a patent way of curing such skins, "warranted as good as Indian tan." Some months afterward they were returned to Topeka, duly finished, and Ifind in the official note-book the following entry. "Robes received to-day. Resolution, by the company, to learn what the law would consider 'Indian tan,' in a suit for damages." They had been shaved so thin that the roots of the hair stuck out on the inside, while the patent liquid in which they had been soaked gave forth an odor which would have been wonderful for its permanency, if it had not been still more wonderful for its offensiveness.
Of the meat, a portion went to our friends, and the balance to Fulton Market, New York. In the first quarter, it carried dyspepsia and disgust, and was so tough that the recipients, with the utmost effort, could not find a tender regret for our danger in obtaining it; while our New York consignee wrote that the first morning's steaks "finished the market," and very nearly finished his customers. He found it impossible, even by the Fulton Market method of subtraction, to get three hundred dollars' worth of express charges out of half that amount of sales, and suggested a discontinuance of shipments. The buffalo calf died on the cars, which probably saved somebody's bones from being broken in celebration of his maturity. The gray wolf got safely to the State of New York, but escaping soon after, a county hunt became necessary, to save the sheep from total extinction. One farmer, in his ire, even went so far as to threaten us with a suit for violating the law, and importing a pauper and disreputable character into the State.
Our experience may be useful to future hunters, to all of whom we would say, unless solely to find amusement,never kill old bulls. Cows and calves are generally juicy and tender, but not so the veterans; they, after death, butt around among one's digestive organs with a ferocity which makes the liver ache. Being most easily obtained, bull beef is generally all that is sent to market, and thus many a patriarchal bison, dead, accomplishes more in retaliation for his sudden taking-off than the Fates ever permitted him to do in lusty life.
A few days more were spent in our Silver Creek camp, and we then folded our tents and took a westward course, with the purpose of examining, not only the remoter regions of Kansas, but also the Colorado portion of the plains. The new town of Sheridan, fourteen miles east of the State line, and nine from Fort Wallace, was our objective point.
"Gentlemen," said the Professor, as we packed and adjusted our things in the wagons, "we are now to climb for a hundred miles directly up the roof of the Rocky Mountain water-shed, its long rivers and rich valleys forming the gutters, or spouts, to carry off the surplus water."
Sachem, who dreaded these lectures almost as much as he did crinoline, interposed with some of his usual badinage; but among irreverent classes of Sophomores and Freshmen, the Professor had learnt to answer only such questions as were relevant, and to pass all others by unheeded. For this reason such interruptions never broke the thread of his discourse, and but temporarily checked its unwinding. In a few minutes, however, the wagons started, and our expeditionbegan crawling up the slope of the Professor's metaphorical roof, and thereupon our worthy leader's discourse was brought to a graceful conclusion.
For four days we continued our westward journey, the soft grass carpet beneath us ever stretching away to the horizon in its tiresome sameness, its figures of buffalo and antelope, big antlered elk and skulking wolves woven more beautifully upon its brown ground than in the rug-work of the looms. How I loved to sit upon such rugs, when a child, and gaze at the strange figures, as they were lit up by the flashing fire-light! Memory recalled one very impracticable reindeer, which used to lie just in front of a maiden aunt's chair, representing a Brussels manufacturer's idea of the animal. His horns were longer than his head, body and tail combined, and the spring he was making, when transfixed by the loom, brought his nose so close to the ground, that my older boyhood calculated the immense antlers would certainly have tipped him over had he not been held back by the threads.
But to return to the plains. We examined highlands and lowlands for poor soil, but found none. What we had once expected to see a bed of sand, if ever we saw it at all, turned up under the spade a rich dark loam, in depth and character fully equal to an Illinois prairie. Together with those other legends, localized drought and grasshoppers, the American desert, when revealed by the head-light of civilization, had taken to itself the wings of a myth, and fled away. There was a great sameness in the climate, as well as the scenery. Day followed day, with itssunshine and its winds, the latter being decidedly the most disagreeable feature of the entire trip.
Various episodes marked our journey from Silver Creek to Sheridan. A few only of the more noteworthy incidents can be transferred to these pages. They will suffice, however, as specimens of our adventures, and help the reader, I trust, to a better acquaintance with the free, wild life of the West.
The second day after leaving Silver Creek, we suddenly encountered another specialty of the plains, the "Wild Huntress." So often has this personage and her male counterpart danced, with big letters and a bowie-knife, across yellow covers, that we met the "original Jacobs" of the tribe gleefully. She came to us in a cloud of buffalo, with black eyes glittering like a snake's, and coarse and uncombed hair that tangled itself in the wind, and streamed and twisted behind her like writhing vipers. A black riding habit flowed out in the strong breeze, its train snapping like a loose sail, and a black mustang fled from her Indian lash—the dark wild horse, a fit carrier for such somber outfit.
She was introduced to us by the bison herd, which came thundering across our front, with this strange figure pressing its flank and darting hither and thither from one outskirt of the flying multitude to the other. The reins lay loose on the neck of her mustang, which entered into the fierce chase like a bloodhound, doubling and twisting on its course with an agility that was wonderful.
One hand of the huntress held out a holster revolver,which she fired occasionally, but with uncertain aim, one of the bullets indeed whistling our way. The chase constituted the excitement that she sought, and the pistol was little more than a spur to urge it on.
"That's Ann, poor P—'s wife," said our guide. "Crazy since the Indians killed her husband. He was a contractor on the railroad; his camp used to be just above Hays. She lives in the old 'dug-out' on the line yet, and spends half her time chasing buffalo. She never kills none, but that isn't what she is after. She wants to be moving, and just as wild as she can; it sort o' relieves her mind."
The huntress had seen our outfit, and rode toward us. The face was a very plain one, with a vacant yet anxious expression, and the tightly-drawn skin seeming scarcely to cover the jaw-bones. She halted before us, and commenced conversation at once.
"Good day, gentlemen."
"Good day, madam."
"She always tells her story to every body," muttered the guide in a low voice.
"Have you seen any Cheyennes hereabouts, gentlemen? I sighted a party this morning, and you ought to have seen them run. Raven Dick, here, put his best foot foremost, but they shook him out of sight in a ravine. Haven't any thing better to do, friends, and so I'm riding down some buffalo."
We could easily understand why superstitious savages should run when a maniac female of such dismal aspect flitted along their trail.