CHAPTER XVII.

being averse to exhausting his good dog and his new

companion. Each night he encamped under the shade

of a tree or a bush when he could find one, or in the

open prairie when there were none, and, picketing his

horse to a short stake or pin which he carried with him

for the purpose, lit his fire, had supper, and lay down

to rest. In a few days Charlie became so tame and so

accustomed to his master's voice that he seemed quite

reconciled to his new life. There can be no doubt whatever

that he had a great dislike to solitude; for on one

occasion, when Dick and Crusoe went off a mile or so

from the camp, where Charlie was tied, and disappeared

from his view, he was heard to neigh so loudly that

Dick ran back, thinking the wolves must have attacked

him. He was all right, however, and exhibited evident

tokens of satisfaction when they returned.

On another occasion his fear of being left alone was

more clearly demonstrated.

Dick had been unable to find wood or water that day,

so he was obliged to encamp upon the open plain. The

want of water was not seriously felt, however, for he

had prepared a bladder in which he always carried

enough to give him one pannikin of hot sirup, and

leave a mouthful for Crusoe and Charlie. Dried buffalo

dung formed a substitute for fuel. Spreading his buffalo

robe, he lit his fire, put on his pannikin to boil, and

stuck up a piece of meat to roast, to the great delight

of Crusoe, who sat looking on with much interest.

Suddenly Charlie, who was picketed a few hundred

yards off in a grassy spot, broke his halter close by the

headpiece, and with a snort of delight bounded away,

prancing and kicking up his heels!

Dick heaved a deep sigh, for he felt sure that his

horse was gone. However, in a little Charlie stopped,

and raised his nose high in the air, as if to look for

his old equine companions. But they were gone; no

answering neigh replied to his; and he felt, probably

for the first time, that he was really alone in the world.

Having no power of smell, whereby he might have

traced them out as the dog would have done, he looked

in a bewildered and excited state all round the horizon.

Then his eye fell on Dick and Crusoe sitting by their

little fire. Charlie looked hard at them, and then again

at the horizon; and then, coming to the conclusion, no

doubt, that the matter was quite beyond his comprehension,

he quietly took to feeding.

Dick availed himself of the chance, and tried to catch

him; but he spent an hour with Crusoe in the vain

attempt, and at last they gave it up in disgust and returned

to the fire, where they finished their supper and

went to bed.

Next morning they saw Charlie feeding close at hand,

so they took breakfast, and tried to catch him again.

But it was of no use; he was evidently coquetting with

them, and dodged about and defied their utmost efforts,

for there were only a few inches of line hanging to his

head. At last it occurred to Dick that he would try

the experiment of forsaking him. So he packed up his

things, rolled up the buffalo robe, threw it and the rifle

on his shoulder, and walked deliberately away.

"Come along, Crusoe!" he cried, after walking a few

paces.

But Crusoe stood by the fire with his head up, and

an expression on his face that said, "Hallo, man! what's

wrong? You've forgot Charlie! Hold on! Are you

mad?"

"Come here, Crusoe!" cried his master in a decided

tone.

Crusoe obeyed at once. Whatever mistake there

might be, there was evidently none in that command;

so he lowered his head and tail humbly, and trotted on

with his master, but he perpetually turned his head as

he went, first on this side and then on that, to look and

wonder at Charlie.

When they were far away on the plain, Charlie suddenly

became aware that something was wrong. He

trotted to the brow of a slope, with his head and tail

very high up indeed, and looked after them; then he

looked at the fire, and neighed; then he trotted quickly

up to it, and seeing that everything was gone he began

to neigh violently, and at last started off at full speed,

and overtook his friends, passing within a few feet of

them, and, wheeling round a few yards off, stood trembling

like an aspen leaf.

Dick called him by his name and advanced, while

Charlie met him half-way, and allowed himself to be

saddled, bridled, and mounted forthwith.

After this Dick had no further trouble with his wild

horse.

At his next camping-place, which was in the midst of

a cluster of bushes close beside a creek, Dick came unexpectedly

upon a little wooden cross which marked the

head of a grave. There was no inscription on it, but the

Christian symbol told that it was the grave of a white

man. It is impossible to describe the rush of mingled

feelings that filled the soul of the young hunter as he

leaned on the muzzle of his rifle and looked at this

solitary resting-place of one who, doubtless like himself,

had been a roving hunter. Had he been young or old

when he fell? had he a mother in the distant settlement

who watched and longed and waited for the son

that was never more to gladden her eyes? had he been

murdered, or had he died there and been buried by his

sorrowing comrades? These and a thousand questions

passed rapidly through his mind as he gazed at the little

cross.

Suddenly he started. "Could it be the grave of Joe

or Henri?" For an instant the idea sent a chill to his

heart; but it passed quickly, for a second glance showed

that the grave was old, and that the wooden cross had

stood over it for years.

Dick turned away with a saddened heart; and that

night, as he pored over the pages of his Bible, his mind

was filled with many thoughts about eternity and the

world to come. He, too, must come to the grave one

day, and quit the beautiful prairies and his loved

rifle. It was a sad thought; but while he meditated

he thought upon his mother. "After all," he murmured,

"there must be happiness

without

the rifle, and youth,

and health, and the prairie! My mother's happy, yet

she don't shoot, or ride like wild-fire over the plains."

Then that word which had been sent so sweetly to him

through her hand came again to his mind, "My son,

give me thine heart;" and as he read God's Book, he

met with the word, "Delight thyself in the Lord, and he

shall give thee the desire of thine heart." "

The desireof thine heart

" Dick repeated this, and pondered it

till he fell asleep.

A misfortune soon after this befell Dick Varley which

well-nigh caused him to give way to despair. For some

time past he had been approaching the eastern slopes

of the Rocky Mountains--those ragged, jagged, mighty

hills which run through the whole continent from north

to south in a continuous chain, and form, as it were, the

backbone of America. One morning, as he threw the

buffalo robe off his shoulders and sat up, he was horrified

to find the whole earth covered with a mantle of snow.

We say he was horrified, for this rendered it absolutely

impossible any further to trace his companions either by

scent or sight.

For some time he sat musing bitterly on his sad fate,

while his dog came and laid his head sympathizingly on

his arm.

"Ah, pup!" he said, "I know ye'd help me if ye

could! But it's all up now; there's no chance of findin'

them--none!"

To this Crusoe replied by a low whine. He knew

full well that something distressed his master, but he

hadn't yet ascertained what it was. As something had

to be done, Dick put the buffalo robe on his steed, and

mounting said, as he was in the habit of doing each

morning, "Lead on, pup."

Crusoe put his nose to the ground and ran forward a

few paces, then he returned and ran about snuffing and

scraping up the snow. At last he looked up and uttered

a long melancholy howl.

"Ah! I knowed it," said Dick, pushing forward.

"Come on, pup; you'll have to

follow

now. Any way

we must go on."

The snow that had fallen was not deep enough to

offer the slightest obstruction to their advance. It was,

indeed, only one of those occasional showers common to

that part of the country in the late autumn, which

season had now crept upon Dick almost before he was

aware of it, and he fully expected that it would melt

away in a few days. In this hope he kept steadily

advancing, until he found himself in the midst of those

rocky fastnesses which divide the waters that flow into

the Atlantic from those that flow into the Pacific Ocean.

Still the slight crust of snow lay on the ground, and he

had no means of knowing whether he was going in the

right direction or not.

Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood

now, so that his night bivouac was not so cold or dreary

as might have been expected.

Travelling, however, had become difficult, and even

dangerous, owing to the rugged nature of the ground

over which he proceeded. The scenery had completely

changed in its character. Dick no longer coursed over

the free, open plains, but he passed through beautiful

valleys filled with luxuriant trees, and hemmed in by

stupendous mountains, whose rugged sides rose upward

until the snow-clad peaks pierced the clouds.

There was something awful in these dark solitudes,

quite overwhelming to a youth of Dick's temperament.

His heart began to sink lower and lower every day, and

the utter impossibility of making up his mind what to

do became at length agonizing. To have turned and

gone back the hundreds of miles over which he had

travelled would have caused him some anxiety under

any circumstances, but to do so while Joe and Henri

were either wandering about there or in the power of

the savages was, he felt, out of the question. Yet in

which way should he go? Whatever course he took

might lead him farther and farther away from them.

In this dilemma he came to the determination of

remaining where he was, at least until the snow should

leave the ground.

He felt great relief even when this hopeless course

was decided upon, and set about making himself an encampment

with some degree of cheerfulness. When he

had completed this task, he took his rifle, and leaving

Charlie picketed in the centre of a dell, where the long,

rich grass rose high above the snow, went off to hunt.

On turning a rocky point his heart suddenly bounded

into his throat, for there, not thirty yards distant, stood

a huge grizzly bear!

Yes, there he was at last, the monster to meet which

the young hunter had so often longed--the terrible size

and fierceness of which he had heard so often spoken

about by the old hunters. There it stood at last; but

little did Dick Varley think that the first time he should

meet with his foe should be when alone in the dark recesses

of the Rocky Mountains, and with none to succour

him in the event of the battle going against him. Yes,

there was one. The faithful Crusoe stood by his side,

with his hair bristling, all his formidable teeth exposed,

and his eyes glaring in their sockets. Alas for poor

Crusoe had he gone into that combat alone! One stroke

of that monster's paw would have hurled him dead upon

the ground.

Dick's first fight with a grizzly

--

Adventure with adeer

--

A surprise

.

There is no animal in all the land so terrible and

dangerous as the grizzly bear. Not only is he the

largest of the species in America, but he is the fiercest,

the strongest, and the most tenacious of life--facts which

are so well understood that few of the western hunters

like to meet him single-handed, unless they happen

to be first-rate shots; and the Indians deem the encounter

so dangerous that to wear a collar composed

of the claws of a grizzly bear of his own killing is

counted one of the highest honours to which a young

warrior can attain.

The grizzly bear resembles the brown bear of Europe,

but it is larger, and the hair is long, the points being

of a paler shade. About the head there is a considerable

mixture of gray hair, giving it the "grizzly" appearance


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