CHAPTER XII.

their equanimity was restored; and while the meal

was in preparation Dick shouldered his rifle and went

into the bush to try for another turkey. He did not

get one, however, but he shot a couple of prairie-hens,

which are excellent eating. Moreover, he found a large

quantity of wild grapes and plums. These were unfortunately

not nearly ripe, but Dick resolved to try his

hand at a new dish, so he stuffed the breast of his coat

full of them.

After the pot was emptied, Dick washed it out, and

put a little clean water in it. Then he poured some

flour in, and stirred it well. While this was heating, he

squeezed the sour grapes and plums into what Joe

called a "mush," mixed it with a spoonful of sugar, and

emptied it into the pot. He also skimmed a quantity

of the fat from the remains of the turkey soup and

added that to the mess, which he stirred with earnest

diligence till it boiled down into a sort of thick porridge.

"D'ye think it'll be good?" asked Joe gravely; "I've

me doubts of it."

"We'll see.--Hold the tin dish, Henri."

"Take care of de fingers. Ha! it looks magnifique--superb!"

The first spoonful produced an expression on Henri's

face that needed not to be interpreted. It was as sour

as vinegar.

"Ye'll ha' to eat it yerself, Dick, lad," cried Joe,

throwing down his spoon, and spitting out the unsavoury

mess.

"Nonsense," cried Dick, bolting two or three mouthfuls,

and trying to look as if he liked it. "Try again;

it's not so bad as you think."

"Ho-o-o-o-o!" cried Henri, after the second mouthful.

"Tis vinégre. All de sugare in de pack would not

make more sweeter one bite of it."

Dick was obliged to confess the dish a failure, so it

was thrown out after having been offered to Crusoe,

who gave it one sniff and turned away in silence. Then

they mounted and resumed their journey.

At this place mosquitoes and horse-flies troubled our

hunters and their steeds a good deal. The latter especially

were very annoying to the poor horses. They bit

them so much that the blood at last came trickling

down their sides. They were troubled also, once or

twice, by cockchafers and locusts, which annoyed them,

not indeed by biting, but by flying blindly against their

faces, and often-narrowly missed hitting them in the

eyes. Once particularly they were so bad that Henri

in his wrath opened his lips to pronounce a malediction

on the whole race, when a cockchafer flew straight into

his mouth, and, to use his own forcible expression,

"nearly knocked him off de hoss." But these were

minor evils, and scarcely cost the hunters a thought.

Wanderings on the prairie

--

A war party

--

Chased byIndians

--

A bold leap for life

.

For many days the three hunters wandered over

the trackless prairie in search of a village of the

Sioux Indians, but failed to find one, for the Indians

were in the habit of shifting their ground and following

the buffalo. Several times they saw small isolated bands

of Indians; but these they carefully avoided, fearing

they might turn out to be war parties, and if they fell

into their hands the white men could not expect civil

treatment, whatever nation the Indians might belong to.

During the greater portion of this time they met with

numerous herds of buffalo and deer, and were well supplied

with food; but they had to cook it during the day,

being afraid to light a fire at night while Indians were

prowling about.

One night they halted near the bed of a stream which

was almost dry. They had travelled a day and a night

without water, and both men and horses were almost

choking, so that when they saw the trees on the horizon

which indicated the presence of a stream, they pushed

forward with almost frantic haste.

"Hope it's not dry," said Joe anxiously as they galloped up to it.

"No,

there's water, lads," and they

dashed forward to a pool that had not yet been dried

up. They drank long and eagerly before they noticed

that the pool was strongly impregnated with salt. Many

streams in those parts of the prairies are quite salt, but

fortunately this one was not utterly undrinkable, though

it was very unpalatable.

"We'll make it better, lads," said Joe, digging a deep

hole in the sand with his hands, a little below the pool.

In a short time the water filtered through, and though

not rendered fresh, it was, nevertheless, much improved.

"We may light a fire to-night, d'ye think?" inquired

Dick; "we've not seed Injuns for some days."

"P'r'aps 'twould be better not," said Joe; "but I daresay

we're safe enough."

A fire was therefore lighted in as sheltered a spot as

could be found, and the three friends bivouacked as

usual. Towards dawn they were aroused by an angry

growl from Crusoe.

"It's a wolf likely," said Dick, but all three seized and

cocked their rifles nevertheless.

Again Crusoe growled more angrily than before, and

springing out of the camp snuffed the breeze anxiously.

"Up, lads! catch the nags! There's something in the

wind, for the dog niver did that afore."

In a few seconds the horses were saddled and the

packs secured.

"Call in the dog," whispered Joe Blunt; "if he barks

they'll find out our whereabouts."

"Here, Crusoe, come--"

It was too late; the dog barked loudly and savagely

at the moment, and a troop of Indians came coursing

over the plain. On hearing the unwonted sound they

wheeled directly and made for the camp.

"It's a war party; fly, lads! nothin' 'll save our

scalps now but our horses' heels," cried Joe.

In a moment they vaulted into the saddle and urged

their steeds forward at the utmost speed. The savages

observed them, and with an exulting yell dashed after

them. Feeling that there was now no need of concealment,

the three horsemen struck off into the open prairie,

intending to depend entirely on the speed and stamina

of their horses. As we have before remarked, they

were good ones; but the Indians soon proved that they

were equally well if not better mounted.

"It'll be a hard run," said Joe in a low, muttering

tone, and looking furtively over his shoulder. "The

varmints are mounted on wild horses--leastways they

were wild not long agone. Them chaps can throw the

lasso and trip a mustang as well as a Mexican. Mind

the badger-holes, Dick.--Hold in a bit, Henri; yer nag

don't need drivin'; a foot in a hole just now would

cost us our scalps. Keep down by the creek, lads."

"Ha! how dey yell," said Henri in a savage tone,

looking back, and shaking his rifle at them, an act that

caused them to yell more fiercely than ever. "Dis old

pack-hoss give me moche trobel."

The pace was now tremendous. Pursuers and pursued

rose and sank on the prairie billows as they swept

along, till they came to what is termed a "dividing

ridge," which is a cross wave, as it were, that cuts the

others in two, thus forming a continuous level. Here

they advanced more easily; but the advantage was

equally shared with their pursuers, who continued the

headlong pursuit with occasional yells, which served to

show the fugitives that they at least did not gain

ground.

A little to the right of the direction in which they

were flying a blue line was seen on the horizon. This

indicated the existence of trees to Joe's practised eyes,

and feeling that if the horses broke down they could

better make a last manful stand in the wood than on

the plain he urged his steed towards it. The savages

noticed the movement at once, and uttered a yell of

exultation, for they regarded it as an evidence that the

fugitives doubted the strength of their horses.

"Ye haven't got us yet," muttered Joe, with a sardonic

grin. "If they get near us, Dick, keep yer eyes

open an' look out for yer neck, else they'll drop a noose

over it, they will, afore ye know they're near, an' haul

ye off like a sack."

Dick nodded in reply, but did not speak, for at that

moment his eye was fixed on a small creek ahead which

they must necessarily leap or dash across. It was

lined with clumps of scattered shrubbery, and he

glanced rapidly for the most suitable place to pass.

Joe and Henri did the same, and having diverged a

little to the different points chosen, they dashed through

the shrubbery and were hid from each other's view.

On approaching the edge of the stream, Dick found to

his consternation that the bank was twenty feet high

opposite him, and too wide for any horse to clear.

Wheeling aside without checking speed, at the risk of

throwing his steed, he rode along the margin of the

stream for a few hundred yards until he found a ford--at

least such a spot as might be cleared by a bold

leap. The temporary check, however, had enabled an

Indian to gain so close upon his heels that his exulting

yell sounded close in his ear.

With a vigorous bound his gallant little horse went

over. Crusoe could not take it, but he rushed down

the one bank and up the other, so that he only lost a

few yards. These few yards, however, were sufficient

to bring the Indian close upon him as he cleared the

stream at full gallop. The savage whirled his lasso

swiftly round for a second, and in another moment

Crusoe uttered a tremendous roar as he was tripped up

violently on the plain.

Dick heard the cry of his faithful dog, and turned

quickly round, just in time to see him spring at the

horse's throat, and bring both steed and rider down

upon him. Dick's heart leaped to his throat. Had a

thousand savages been rushing on him he would have

flown to the rescue of his favourite; but an unexpected

obstacle came in the way. His fiery little steed, excited

by the headlong race and the howls of the Indians,

had taken the bit in his teeth and was now unmanageable.

Dick tore at the reins like a maniac, and in the

height of his frenzy even raised the butt of his rifle with

the intent to strike the poor horse to the earth, but his

better nature prevailed. He checked the uplifted hand,

and with, a groan dropped the reins, and sank almost

helplessly forward on the saddle; for several of the Indians

had left the main body and were pursuing him

alone, so that there would have been now no chance of

his reaching the place where Crusoe fell, even if he could

have turned his horse.

Spiritless, and utterly indifferent to what his fate

might be, Dick Varley rode along with his head drooping,

and keeping his seat almost mechanically, while the

mettlesome little steed flew on over wave and hollow.

Gradually he awakened from this state of despair to a

sense of danger. Glancing round he observed that the

Indians were now far behind him, though still pursuing.

He also observed that his companions were galloping

miles away on the horizon to the left, and that he had

foolishly allowed the savages to get between him and

them. The only chance that remained for him was to

outride his pursuers, and circle round towards his comrades,

and this he hoped to accomplish, for his little

horse had now proved itself to be superior to those of the

Indians, and there was good running in him still.

Urging him forward, therefore, he soon left the savages

still farther behind, and feeling confident that they could

not now overtake him he reined up and dismounted.

The pursuers quickly drew near, but short though it

was the rest did his horse good. Vaulting into the

saddle, he again stretched out, and now skirted along

the margin of a wood which seemed to mark the position

of a river of considerable size.

At this moment his horse put his foot into a badger-hole,

and both of them came heavily to the ground.

In an instant Dick rose, picked up his gun, and leaped

unhurt into the saddle. But on urging his poor horse

forward he found that its shoulder was badly sprained.

There was no room for mercy, however--life and death

were in the balance--so he plied the lash vigorously,

and the noble steed warmed into something like a run,

when again it stumbled, and fell with a crash on the

ground, while the blood burst from its mouth and nostrils.


Back to IndexNext