"There was a fierce whizz like the rush of an eagle's wing.""There was a fierce whizz like the rush of an eagle's wing."
He had not long to wait. By and by a low guttural exclamation struck his ear, and his hearing, strung to a marvelously fine point, caught the sound of the soft moccasins on the hard earth. Less than a minute later the form of the Wolf came into the moonlight, as a bather emerges from the side of a lake. Seeing the open ravine at his feet, he stopped, and instantly his companion, Wau-ko-mia-tan, appeared at his side.
They quickly saw that the leap was an easy one.
"Wau-ko-mia-tan will leap across," said that warrior, "then the Wolf will follow; let us lose no time, for the Shawanoe may be gone."
The speaker recoiled a single pace and gathered his muscles for the leap. He took one quick step and made a terrific bound upward and outward, straight for the rocky brink whereon Deerfoot the Shawanoe instantly stepped into the moonlight.
The Winnebago was in mid-air, crouching like a leaper, with his legs gathered under him and his arms at his side, when there was a fierce whiz, like the rush of an eagle's wing, something flashed in the moonlight, and the tomahawk, driven by a lightning-like sweep of the Shawanoe's arm, was buried in the chest of theWinnebago as it would have sunk in so much sodden earth.
An ear-splitting screech burst from the throat of the smitten warrior, who struck the edge of the ravine like a bundle of rags flung thither, and then tumbled to the bottom as dead as the jagged rock on which he lay.
The Wolf stood transfixed, unable to understand what had taken place. Then he saw the figure of the youthful warrior on the other side and heard his voice.
"Rattlesnake of a Winnebago! Die the death of the rattlesnake!"
The wretch was given no time to protest again, for the words were yet in the mouth of Deerfoot when the flash of his rifle lit up the partial gloom, and the crack of the weapon mingled with the death shriek of the redskin, who slumped end over end down the ravine and lay beside the body of Wau-ko-mia-tan as dead as he.
"Thus shall die all that seek to follow your footsteps," muttered the Shawanoe, who, standing where he stood when he slew both, proceeded to reload his rifle with as much coolnessas though he had just fired at a target on a tree.
This finished, he let himself over the edge of the ravine, holding fast a moment by one hand, and then letting go, dropped lightly beside the two bodies that lay below. His face showed no excitement now, and he moved with his usual care and deliberation. Drawing the hunting-knife which he had taken from the Wolf, he partly bent over, but straightened up again, saying to himself:
"Deerfoot is a Christian Indian and can not scalp a foe though as base as they."
Picking up each rifle (that of Wau-ko-mia-tan being still clutched by his nerveless fingers while the Wolf's had fallen from his grasp), he deliberately broke the locks of each by striking them on the stones. He then recovered his own tomahawk, and carried off the useless weapons with him.
He passed down the ravine until he reached a point where the sides were not so high. There he clambered out, still keeping the two broken guns. He had reached high ground on the side from which had come the Winnebagos,and he walked grimly forward, until in a brief while he reached the main trail over which he and the boys had passed a brief while before.
He turned toward the left, which led him in the direction of the camp of the Ozarks as well as toward the camp of Black Bear and his Winnebagos. He took longer steps than usual, but did not trot or run.
When he once more caught the glimmer of the camp-fire among the trees, he slackened his pace and drew nigh with the caution that had become a second nature to him. He quickly saw that the Winnebagos had disposed of themselves for the night. The fire was burning as brightly as ever, because of the attention it received from the two warriors who were standing on guard.
The party were in a portion of the country where they knew there was scarcely a possibility of their being molested by any one; but the American Indian loves nothing like laziness and war; and, treacherous by nature himself, he expects treachery at all times in others. And so, although they knew of no enemies within miles of them (unless it was Deerfoot,whom they did not fear) they had two vigilant sentinels on duty. The rest were stretched out on their blankets with their feet turned toward the blaze, sleeping like so many tired animals.
At the moment of Deerfoot's approach, the Winnebagos on guard were standing some twenty feet apart, with the fire burning between them. Each held a loaded gun in hand and cast his keen glance hither and thither in the gloom, eyes and ears alert for the first suspicious sight or sound.
The sentinel nearer Deerfoot was Black Bear himself. The chieftain evidently believed that the best way to instruct his warriors in their duty was to set the example. His attitude showed that something had arrested his attention. Deerfoot knew that the sound had been made by his moccasin, for he purposely rustled the leaves.
Black Bear looked intently off in the gloom, but seeing nothing, turned his head and told the other guard to fling more wood upon the fire. He obeyed, and the circle of light quickly extended out among the trees.
It would have been an easy matter for theShawanoe to slay both, but he had no thought of doing so. That would have been killing without justification.
The Winnebago chieftain was gazing intently into the night, when from behind a tree, no more than a dozen steps distant, softly stepped the young Shawanoe.
"Listen, Black Bear," said he, "to the words of Deerfoot the Shawanoe. Twice did he spare the life of the Wolf and the Wolf thanked him, but he went out a third time to take his life; he was a rattlesnake, but he had not the courage of the rattlesnake, for he took with him Wau-ko-mia-tan, whose heart was that of a rattlesnake also; they bent their steps where none but Deerfoot has the right to go; therefore Deerfoot killed them and took away their guns.There they are!"
In the same minute that Deerfoot began speaking, the second sentinel stepped forward and took his place beside his chief. That both were amazed need not be said. Each stood with the muzzle of his gun lowered, neither dreaming that the youth thought of assailing them.
Deerfoot spoke in the slow but impressive voice natural to his race. But the last exclamation escaped him like the discharge from a Leyden jar. So quickly that neither saw a movement, he hurled the broken gun of the chief straight at him, following it with the second gun driven at his companion.
Both hit their mark. Black Bear was struck in the chest with such force, that he was carried off his feet and knocked half fainting to the earth. The other was hit and compelled to recoil a step, but the weapon struck him lengthwise, and he was not harmed. He rallied and brought his gun to his shoulder, but by the time it was leveled, the Shawanoe had vanished.
Such an exploit, as you may well suppose, caused consternation among the Winnebagos for the space of several minutes. No gun had been fired, but the American Indian is a light sleeper, and slight as was the disturbance, it aroused every one. There was a gathering about the fallen chieftain, who, however, came to his feet without help, though he gasped and was weak for a few moments. The explanation given by the other sentinel removed the generalfear of an attack, but three of the warriors scattered through the wood to make sure that no surprise overtook them, while the others with an agitation rare among red men talked over the astounding occurrence.
The broken rifles lying on the ground left no doubt that when the Shawanoe declared he had slain both the Wolf and Wau-ko-mia-tan he spoke the truth. Else, how could their shattered guns be in his possession?
And this same youth, with an audacity beyond comprehension, had flung the two guns at the chieftain and his brother warrior and defied them. It seemed as though he must be more than a human being, to be capable of such deeds. Legends had reached them of some of the exploits of the wonderful young Shawanoe, but this surpassed them all.
The Winnebagos, however, were among the bravest tribes in the west, and when they broke camp at early dawn, Deerfoot, who was on the watch, knew that it was their determination to slay every one of the three hunters in the camp at the foot of the Ozarks, as soon as they could reach them.
CHAPTER XXV.THE SIGNAL FIRE.
Deerfoot the Shawanoe remained in the vicinity of the Winnebago camp until the warriors made their start at an early hour the following morning. He took more than one survey of the red men, who gathered about the blazing fire and talked over the remarkable events of the night. He could easily have slain every one of the scouts whom they kept moving through the wood, but he had no wish to do so.
He heard and saw enough to convince him that they intended to make an attack on the camp in the mountains, but he did not feel absolutely sure that they would not turn aside and follow in the path of the Wolf and Wau-ko-mia-tan, until the party had advanced several miles to the southward along the Ozark trail.
It seemed strange that the Winnebagos paid no attention to the two missing warriors, and yet, after all, it was not singular. They knew they were dead and it was therefore a waste of time to give heed to them. If by any possibility they were alive, they must take care of themselves, just as all brave Indians did: if unable to do so, the consequences must be on their own heads.
So the ten Winnebagos, under the lead of the famous chieftain Black Bear, moved along the trail in the direction of the camp of the Hunters of the Ozark, and the expressions and words that had been overheard by the watchful Shawanoe, left no doubt that by way of revenge they meant to slay the three trappers who had located there for the winter.
The Winnebagos came from the north-east. Their lodges, villages and hunting grounds were many moons' travel away, and the section of country through which they were journeying was so sparsely settled that they had no fear of pursuit. Now, when you give an American Indian the chance to commit some vicious mischief with no fear of being made topay therefor, you may set it down as a truth that nine hundred and ninety-nine out of every one thousand will commit that crime. It was a matter of indifference, in the first place, whether they harmed the hunters or not. Since the latter were removed some distance from their path, it is probable that they would not at that time have taken the trouble to go in quest of them: it was the feeling of revenge that was the deciding weight in the scale.
Let us recall the situation as it was on the second morning after Fred Linden and Terry Clark left their homes in Greville. The boys themselves were the furthest advanced along the trail to the mountains, while at a considerable distance behind, filed the ten Winnebago warriors, and hovering in the vicinity was Deerfoot the Shawanoe, watching every movement with the vigilance of a lynx.
Whenever he chose he could make a circuit around the Winnebagos, and joining the boys beyond, hasten to the hunters' camp and apprise them of their danger; but there remained an abundance of time in which to do that, andhe did not wish to leave the vicinity of the enemies until he saw a little more of them.
It was evident that the Winnebagos were in no hurry. They must have known that two of the youths were following the trail in advance, for the heavy shoes of the lads could not fail to leave their imprints in many places; but, such being the case, the red men might ask in what manner they could know that a party of Winnebagos were following them, unless such knowledge came through Deerfoot the Shawanoe, who, wherever he might be, certainly was not in front of them.
When the Indians came to a stream of water, they did not rush in and wade or swim to the other side, as they would have done had there been any call for haste, but like those who had gone before, they stopped long enough to make a raft on which they could float across. The American Indian is not as fond of water as he should be, and though the Winnebagos would have cared little for the chill of the stream, it was more pleasant for them to pass over dry shod; so they made their several rafts and poled themselves to the opposite bank.
You would not look for humor under such circumstances, and yet on one of the three rafts there was so much of it shown that even the grim Shawanoe smiled.
The structures on which the red men floated were, as a matter of course, of the frailest nature, intended as they were to last only long enough to bear them to the other shore. With proper management, all would have done this, but on one of the rafts holding four of the warriors, there was an aboriginal wag. A single Indian managed the pole, while the others squatted carefully in their respective positions and were expected to keep quiet, so as not to disintegrate the frail structure.
The wag to whom I have referred, while sitting with an innocent expression on his painted countenance, quietly loosened the two or three withes, and gave the logs such an impetus that they separated like two bodies positively charged with electricity, when brought together. The warrior who handled the pole was standing with legs somewhat apart, resting on a different log, when they suddenly separated still more, and he sat down with a splash inthe water. Another log revolved backwards, as did the savage who was sitting on it, while the others were also plashing in the stream, which was not deep enough to make them swim, though it came to the neck of the shortest one. The four warriors waded to shore amid the grins of the others, and with no suspicion of the criminal that had played the trick upon them.
The next stream was reached by the Indians a couple of hours later. This was not as deep as the other and they did not stop to make rafts. After a little searching, they found a portion where the current did not come above their knees and they waded.
In doing so, Black Bear took the lead, and, in accordance with a custom universal among Indians, each warrior carefully stepped into the footprints in front of him. The water was so limpid that the impression made by the chieftain's moccasin was plainly shown, so that there was no difficulty in this respect. Had a person been trailing them, he would have seen before him what seemed to be the footprints of a single man. There was but a slight variationnear the further shore, where the moccasin of one of the Winnebagos had slid from a stone on which, like all the others, it was placed. The brown stone was slippery with a faint coating of slime, and the scrape of the deerskin down the side gave it a white gleam like the belly of a fish. It was a "slip" in every sense, and, when the slight splash announced it, Black Bear at the head of the procession turned about with his most impressive scowl.
The party made a halt on the other bank. It was considerably past noon, and, while some busied themselves in starting a fire, and a couple began fishing in the stream, two others going into the woods with their guns, Deerfoot was quite sure that they had decided to spend an hour or so for dinner. He concluded, however, to follow the two who went into the woods, and it was fortunate that he did so.
The first surprise that came to him was when the Winnebagos had gone nearly an eighth of a mile from camp. All this time they were making their way up quite a steep slope, so that they were close to the top of a high, wooded ridge.
The Shawanoe might well wonder why they had taken such a course, but when two frightened deer burst through the undergrowth and dashed by at full speed, within easy gun shot, and the Winnebagos looked at them without raising their guns to fire, then it was that Deerfoot was genuinely astonished.
The conclusion was inevitable that these red men were not looking for game.
With a suspicion of their real errand (and that caused another surprise), Deerfoot stealthily followed the Winnebagos until they paused on the highest part of the ridge. He was not long kept in doubt as to their business.
The top of the ridge was almost bare. There were a few stunted trees, a number of bowlders and rocks, and here and there, patches of scraggly grass. From this elevation, however, a magnificent view opened out on every hand before the spectator. To the north stretched the undulating country covered with prairie, stream, valley and forest, the last brilliant with all the gorgeous hues that come with the frosts of autumn.
These flaming colors were visible in whateverdirection the eye turned, and the same varied surface was seen everywhere, but to the southward, the Ozark Mountains had a faint bluish tinge, like a mass of clouds resting in the horizon. It was in that direction that the camp of the hunters lay, and thither the footsteps of pale face and redskin were directed.
The two Winnebagos spent only a minute or so in scanning the surrounding country, when they began gathering wood, until they had quite a pile. A quantity of leaves, some of which were damp, was mixed among the twigs, so that when with a little trouble they were fired by means of the flint and steel in the hands of one of the red men, the fuel did not burn clearly but gave off considerable dark smoke, which was what the Winnebagos wanted.
As soon as the fire was fairly burning, one of the Indians flung his blanket over it, his friend seizing the other part, while both held it thus until it was in danger of taking fire or smothering the flames. Had the coarse cloth been a little more cleanly it is likely that itwould have been burned, but as it was it strangled the blaze until it may be said there were several bushels of smoke gathered beneath and the embers were at their last gasp.
At that moment, the Indians raised the blanket so that they stood upright, and plenty of fresh air was allowed to feed the blaze. Then they slowly waved the blanket between them, sometimes lowering it until it was scorched by the sleepy flames, and then elevating it above their heads. All the time, they manipulated the blanket, sometimes straight up and down, sometimes diagonally, and indeed, in every possible way.
The result of all this varied swinging was that the black column of vapor which slowly climbed the sky, was broken into circles, spiral curves, and all sorts of odd-shaped figures, which did not dissolve for several minutes in the clear air above.
I need not tell you what this meant, for in another place I have described the same thing. It was a signal fire intended by the Winnebagos for the eyes of a party of friends who were too far off to be reached in any other way.Deerfoot had seen such telegraphy many a time and oft, and more than once he had used it. He could interpret such a signal when made by a Shawanoe, Wyandotte, Sauk or Fox, but he had never learned the code in use by the Winnebago military authorities.
However, it was not possible that there was any very fine shade of meaning in the various manipulations of the two warriors. Keen brained as is the American Indian, he is unable to do a great many things with which he is credited: one of these is to do more than telegraph the simplest messages by means of fire, though it is beyond question that important tidings has been flashed hundreds of miles in a single night, from mountain top to mountain top, by means of the signal fires of the Indians.
What disturbed Deerfoot was this proof that there was a second party of Winnebagos in that section of the country. He had not dreamed of such a thing, and it might well cause him alarm, that is, for the three men who were so intent on gathering their furs comparatively a short distance away.
Carefully screening himself from observation,the Shawanoe looked intently in the direction of the gaze of the Winnebagos. He saw that they were not peering at any other ridge, but at the broad low valley to the north-west. They had not long to look when they detected a thin bluish column of smoke creeping upward among the tree tops and dissolving in the clear air above.
Deerfoot also saw it, and he knew that it was a reply to the first signal. There was another party of Winnebagos in the neighborhood; they would soon join Black Bear's party, and there was no time for delay. Indeed, but for the discovery he had made, the Shawanoe would have felt that he had tarried too long already.
It was not far now to the camp of the Hunters of the Ozark, and it was perilous to wait to warn them. Every hour counted. Not only that, but, as you can readily see, Fred Linden and Terry Clark were in still greater danger.
CHAPTER XXVI.ON THE EDGE OF THE PRAIRIE.
The night was far advanced when Fred Linden and Terry Clark reached the stream, where the former remarked that their progress was stopped. Of course he meant that they could continue if they chose to make another raft or they could wade, but they had journeyed so far since dusk, and the trouble of constructing a float was such that he thought it best to wait where they were until daylight. They were pretty well fagged out, and nothing could have been more grateful than to throw themselves on the ground and sleep for several hours.
Terry was as tired as his companion, but he stood irresolute, inclined to think it best that they should push on.
"The stream doesn't look very deep," said he, "and if ye agraas wid me that we can wade,it'll be wiser if we make tother side and then journey to the nixt straam."
"But that may be a good many miles further on."
"Thin all we have to do is to travel a good many miles," said the plucky Irish lad, sitting down to take off his shoes.
"I shall never give in toyou," remarked Fred, also seating himself and beginning to remove his foot-gear.
Before any thing more could be done, however, both were startled by the discovery that some one was on the other side of the stream. First they heard the guttural exclamations which they knew were made by Indians, and then they saw one of the red men come out into full view in the moonlight.
Without a word, the boys hastily moved back under the shadow of the trees, making sure that they also placed several rods between them and the trail which they had followed to the edge of the water. Secure from observation, they fastened their eyes on the other bank, where they saw an interesting sight.
Three Indian warriors stood for fully fiveminutes in plain sight, while they discussed the same question that had engaged the lads—that is, in what manner the stream should be crossed.
It did not take them long to decide. The foremost stepped into the water, followed by the other two, none removing his moccasins or leg-gear, and in a brief while they came out upon dry land again, within fifty feet of where the lads were crouching under shelter.
The boys trembled as they realized how narrow their escape had been. Had they not paused for a few minutes, they would have been in the middle of the stream, just as the others came down to the edge of the water. In the light of their recent experience with the Winnebagos, they had not a particle of doubt that the three belonged to the same tribe and that they were fierce enemies. Had they not slain the boys, they would have made captives of both and conducted them to the main party. Then when it should have been found that one of the prisoners had the gun that once belonged to the Wolf, their fate would have been sealed.
The incident drove from the mind of Fred all wish to tarry on the road. He wished that they were many miles on their way to the camp in the Ozarks. They considered themselves members of the little party of hunters whom they could not reach any too soon.
"I obsarved while the spalpeens were wadin'," said Terry, "that none of them wint lower in the water than their knees. Why didn't they take off their shoes like dacent gintlemen, and cross as they should; but bein' as they didn't do the same, why, we'll sit them the example."
A minute later, the boys stepped into the stream, and, by using care, reached the other side, with all their garments dry. Their shoes were quickly replaced, and the two were off again, so moved by what they had seen, that for the time they forgot fatigue and every thing else.
"I tell you, Terry, that matters are beginning to look worse than even Deerfoot thought, and you know that when he left us he didn't feel satisfied, by any means."
"Could it be," asked his companion, "thatthese spalpeens don't belong to the same crowd that we saw?"
"I am quite sure they do; these three would not have been so separated from the others."
"Where could they have come from?" asked the puzzled Terry.
"Where all the Indians come from—the woods. I suppose a large party of Winnebagos have been off on a tramp, and they are coming together with a view of going home or of making an attack on some place or persons."
A random guess, like this, sometimes comes closer to the truth than a labored theory. The three Indians whom they had so narrowly escaped were members of Black Bear's party and were on their way to meet him. Furthermore, there were more of them at no great distance.
"Me father lost his life by the Indians," said Terry, in a soft voice; "but though it was not known what tribe the same belonged to, I don't think they were Winnebagos; but Indians are Indians and are always ready to kill white people whiniver the chance comes along."
"You are right; father doesn't think there is the least danger or he wouldn't have sent for me. He has hunted several seasons without any trouble with them, but he ought to have learned long ago to be forever on the watch."
"Fred," said the other, stopping short in his excitement; "do ye think they are goin' to attack thesittlement?"
"Impossible! There's the blockhouse and plenty of men to defend it against a thousand savages."
"But the woods saam to be full of thim; there may be some kind of an Indian war that has broke out and these are the first part of the rid army that is to coom down and swaap us over the Rocky Mountains."
But Fred could not share in this prodigious fear. He faced to the front again and laughed, as he resumed his walk.
"There couldn't be any thing likethatwithout warning reaching us; some of the runners would have come to Greville with the news; besides, Deerfoot would have been certain to know something about it."
"Thatsittles it!" exclaimed Terry, with a sigh of relief; "ye are right in sayin' the Shawanoe would have knowed about it; he would have larned it before the spalpeens that started out on the war path, and, bein' as he didn't say any thin', I'm sure ye are right; but all the same, it looks bad for the Hunters of the Ozark, which maans oursilves as well as the men in the mountains."
"There's no use of denying that there is enough to make all of us anxious, but when I remember that father and Mr. Hardin and Bowlby have spent so many years in the Indian country, I can not help feeling hope that they will be able to take care of themselves. You know they are all good shots and they have a cabin strong enough to stand a rough siege."
"I don't forgit the same; but there's a good many more rid than white men and Mr. Bowlby is lame."
"What of that? He doesn't expect to fight with his feet."
"There are many scrimmages in which it's handy to use yer faat. If Deerfut hadn't popped along just as I keeled over the WolfI'd jumped on him; then, do ye not mind that the men may take it into their heads to run away."
"They have their horses," said Fred, foreseeing and agreeing with the response that his young friend would make.
"Not one of 'em is worth a cint at such a time; a one-legged Indian could outrun the fastest; they would have to stick fast to the trail while the spalpeens would walk all around 'em."
"All that is true, but if they could get a good start, it would be very handy for Mr. Bowlby to have one of the horses to ride."
"I don't see much chance of the same," was the sensible comment of Terry; "but, me boy, have ye any idaa of what time it is?"
"It must be far beyond midnight: surely we are a long ways in advance of the Winnebago camp where we left Deerfoot."
"They are not meaning to make a start to-night?"
"Of course not; they will not move until morning."
"Thin I'm in favor of an adjournmentsine die, at once and without waitin' any longer."
"What do you mean?" asked the puzzled Fred, stopping and looking around at his companion.
"I'm tired out."
"So am I, but I made up my mind to keep walking till I dropped, before I would give in to you. It will be a sensible thing for us to rest, but we must get far enough from the trail, so that if any more stragglers come along this way, they won't stumble over us."
This was only simple prudence. They groped along for several rods, through the undergrowth and among the limbs, and were still walking, when Terry's foot struck some obstruction and he fell flat.
"Are you hurt?" asked Fred.
"Hurt? No; that's the way I always lay down, as me uncle obsarved whin he fell off the roof—call me early, Fred, and be sure ye don't take up more of the bed—than—a—gintleman——"
The poor wearied fellow was asleep.
Fred smiled, as he lay down beside himThe air was quite brisk, so he unstrapped his blanket and flung part of it over his friend and the rest over himself, the two lying back to back as they lay the night before in the cavern. The dried leaves made as soft a couch as they could want and Fred had only time to murmur a prayer to heaven, when he too became unconscious.
They slumbered for four full hours, when both awoke at the same moment, refreshed and strengthened. The sun was well up in the sky, and fortunately the weather continued clear, crisp and bracing. Indeed it could not have been more nearly perfect.
They laughed when they saw where they had made their bed, right in the open wood, just as any wild animal would have done when overcome by fatigue. There was no water within sight and no food at command. The blanket was quickly folded up into a neat parcel and strapped to the back of Fred and the two retraced their steps to the trail, which they hoped to follow until it took them to the camp at the foot of the Ozarks.
"I have found out one thing, that have I,"remarked Terry, with the air of one announcing a great discovery.
"What is that?"
"The hungriest young gintleman on the western side of the Mississippi is the handsome youth whom ye have the honor of walkin' with this very minute."
"I can feel for you onthatquestion," added Fred; "for it seems to me that I never wanted food so bad in all my life; we must be on the lookout for game. Do you know how to make that call that Deerfoot used to bring the turkey to him?"
"No, but I know how to use the turkey after the same is brought to me. If I should try the signal, it would scare all the turkeys and deer and foxes and bears and wolves and beavers out of the country, which bein' the same, I won't try it, principally because I don't know how to begin to try it."
"My gracious, Terry; if you could shoot like you can talk, we wouldn't have to wait long for something to eat."
"Whisht, Fred," whispered Terry, in someexcitement; "the wood just beyanst ye looks as if it wasn't any wood at all."
Fred Linden had noticed the peculiarity. The trees were becoming so scarce and far apart that it was evident they were approaching some extensive clearing where no trees grew at all. The next minute the two stood on the edge of an immense prairie, which revealed a sight that profoundly interested them.
CHAPTER XXVII.A MORNING MEAL.
The two boys stood on the edge of a prairie which had a varying width of from one to three miles. Looking to the right and the left, neither end could be seen, so that there was no means of judging its length.
The trail led straight across to the wilderness on the other side, which at that point was all of two miles distant. You can understand that walking was so much easier on the open ground that any party of travelers would hasten to take advantage of such a chance. The hoofs of the half dozen horses had left such a distinct impression that the eye could follow the trail a long ways from the margin of the woods.
This prairie was entirely covered with a growth of succulent grass. The season was so late that it had lost most of its verdancy, butthere was an abundance of nutriment in the blades and it was splendid feeding-ground—one of those breaks in the almost limitless forest of which grazing animals were sure to take advantage.
The boys had paused only a minute or two, gazing out on the almost level expanse, when Terry uttered an exclamation of delight and pointed to the right. Looking in that direction (as Fred had done at the moment his companion spoke), he saw a welcome sight indeed. A herd of buffaloes were cropping the grass within gunshot of the young hunters.
As I have said in another place, there were no such droves as have sometimes been seen on the vast prairies of the far west, numbering fully a hundred thousand, though a century ago some amazing collections of animals were met within sight of the Mississippi.
The herd upon which our friends looked with so much interest numbered little more than a hundred, and they were ruminating along the side of the prairie instead of cropping the grass in the middle of the plain. Some of them seemed to be browsing amongthe trees and undergrowth, but the major part were scattered over the prairie to a distance of two hundred yards, while they were strung to a still greater extent parallel with the course of the prairie itself. From this you will see they were much dispersed, none of them being close to another, except he may have brushed against him now and then.
The front of the drove was not less than two hundred feet away and others could be heard ruminating among the trees, where their huge bushy heads and big round eyes were often thrust into view. Some of them may have caught sight of the lads, but if so, they did not consider them worth attention, for they continued browsing and grazing, advancing step by step toward the spot where our young friends stood.
"Frederick," said Terry, laying his hand on the arm of his companion, and speaking with the gravity of a judge, "whin ye swoop yer gaze on thim playthings out there, bear in mind that there's our breakfast, as me grandmither obsarved whin the dinner table upsit and ivery thing rolled down cellar."
"Our opinion is unanimous on that point; I have already selected my victim, and if you will go away and start a fire, it will hurry matters along."
"It ain't as bad as that," said Terry in some surprise, "I'm not so near dead that I'm goin' to die in ten minutes if I don't git somethin' to ate: I will stay and superintind the operations of shootin' one of them little pets out there."
"It isn't the first buffalo I have killed—"
"I'm not aware that ye have killed that yit," interrupted the Irish lad in his quizzical fashion.
"You soon will be, but I have been out with father before to-day and shot buffaloes: have you?"
"No; whin I goes out huntin' yer fither has't the proud distinction of bein' taken along. Lucky for the buffaloes I niver took a notion to go out and kill siveral thousand: for that raison we find the drove out there so innocent and confidin' that they don't know enough to be afeard of us."
"Maybe they have no cause to be."
"But they can't know thatI'mnot goin' to shoot among them,—so why shouldn't they be scared out of their siven sinses? Howsumiver, ye have me permission to show the animals that ye are actin' under me own eye and orders and it will be an incouragement to yersilf to know the same."
From what has been said, it will be understood that Fred Linden knew much more about buffaloes than did his companion. [The proper name isbison: the genuine buffalo is not found in America.] As he had said, this was not the first time he had hunted them, but with Terry Clark it was different. He had spent a good deal of his time in the woods and had gone in quest of wolves, bears and deer, but he had never brought down one of the lumbering animals for whose flesh he now yearned with a yearning that only the most ravening hunger can inspire.
Terry had formed a deep plot during the short conversation. He did not know the best manner in which to shoot a buffalo and he was too proud to ask instruction. He encouraged the scheme, therefore, of Fred making the firstshot. That would give him a chance to see how it was done, so that when he came to exhibithisskill, he would make no mistake.
Although up to this time the animals had not shown that they cared a straw for the two beings who stood so near and were looking at them with loaded guns in their hands, yet they were liable to become stampeded at any moment. A snort and jump by a single animal were likely to set the whole drove on a dead run, in which all hope of a breakfast on buffalo steaks would be gone for that morning at least.
So, as a matter of prudence, Terry stayed where he was, but partly sheltered himself, so as not to startle any one of the animals that might come upon him suddenly. At the same time, Fred bent low and with loaded and cocked rifle began stealing toward the nearest buffalo.
As it happened this was a cow in fine condition. She was plucking a ribbon of grass that followed the edge of prairie. By some chemistry of shadow and sunshine, there was this little strip of unusually tender herbage, which the cow was eating in her quick, vigorous way,as though afraid that some of her companions would find and take it from her.
Fred singled out this one as his prize. Being so close to the wood, he could not have wanted a better chance to steal up to her. Indeed he had but to stand still, for she was coming a regular half step at a time as she clipped the grass in front of her; but the youth's hunger would not allow him to wait the few minutes that would have been required.
When within fifty feet of the cow, Fred knelt on one knee and brought his rifle to a level. The cow was still advancing, "head on," when he made a noise similar to that which comes natural to you when you wish to drive the hens out of your garden-patch. The cow stopped abruptly, threw up her head and stared at the hunter. The sight of the crouching figure must have suggested to the stupid animal that every thing was not right, for with a frightened whiff, she bounded short around with the intention of joining the other animals.
At the very moment she turned, Fred Linden fired, sending the bullet directly back of her fore leg, where it tore its way through flesh,muscles, bones and the heart, the battered bullet humming off through the air on the other side.
No shot could have been more effective. The cow made a couple of wild leaps and then lunged forward, her nose striking the earth with such force that her head doubled under her and she swung over on her back and side with a violence that made it seem as if she had fallen down a high precipice.
Following his old rule, Fred loaded his gun where he stood, before moving out to examine his prize. It was at this juncture that a stampede of the whole drove was due. Now that the boys had secured their breakfast they would not have cared had the animals thundered off out of sight.
But the terror of the smitten creature was too brief to affect the rest, even though several were quite close to her at the time she gave the snort and rolled over on the ground. A cow grazing near did raise her head for a moment and look at her fallen friend as though she hardly understood it. She seemed to meditate plunging into the rest of the drovewith head down and with tidings of the disaster, but she must have concluded that since the other cow was dead, it wasn't worth while to make any fuss over it; for she dropped her head and resumed her grazing as though she had no further interest in the matter.
Even when Fred ran out, and, stooping down, began cutting a large slice from the shoulder of the victim, none of the others paid any attention to him. Close behind him came Terry, who was so desirous of examining the prize, that he postponed starting the fire.
"Terry, how will that do for a shot?" asked Fred, with some pride, as he plied his knife.
"Where did ye land the shot?"
"Right there, behind the fore leg; you can see the hole where it entered."
Terry turned his head to one side, closed an eye and surveyed it as though he was measuring the height of a wall: then he shook his head.
"What's the matter with you?" asked the impatient Fred.
"Ye are a sixteenth of an inch too far forward, be the token of which the ball wintthrough the upper part of the heart: whin ye kill a buffalo coow ye should always sind the ball through the lower instead of the upper part of the heart. Ye surprise me so much that I am graved with ye, me own Fred."
The latter laughed.
"I suppose it would have done as well had I sent the bullet through her brain; but that takes the finest kind of marksmanship."
"Av course, which explains why ye didn't dare attimpt it: whin we have finished our dinner, supper and breakfast all in one, I'll step out on the perarie, strike an impressive attitude and drop the biggest bull in the drove, just to tach ye the gintaal way of doin' that same thing."
"Well, I shall be glad to learn the best style of bringing down the creatures."
By this time, Fred had severed a piece of meat from the shoulder of the buffalo. It weighed several pounds, but Terry broke in with the wondering inquiry:
"What are ye goin' to do withthat?"
"That's for our dinner; what would you suppose?"
"I thought that was the part of the coow that ye were goin' to be sinsible enough to lave behind while we built a fire around the rist and had enough of a maal to stay the pangs of hunger."
Without waiting to hear the response of his companion, Terry ran among the trees and began gathering wood with which to start a blaze. Both boys were such experts at this that only a brief time was necessary. Fred laid the buffalo steak on the leaves and took part, striking the flame with his own flint and tinder. There was no water within reach and this was quite a deprivation, but the boys were hungry enough to wait for that. From his scant store of mixed salt and sugar, Fred drew forth enough to season the enormous slice and it was speedily half broiled.
Two such hungry youngsters are not likely to be particular about their dinner being done to a turn, and they were eager to eat it when it was exceedingly rare. Leaving Terry to make known when it was ready for the palate, Fred walked to the edge of the prairie to take a survey.
He could not forget that they had serious business before them, and, though he was warranted in believing that there was nothing to fear from the Winnebagos who had caused so much trouble, he was too wise to take any thing for granted.
He saw the buffaloes cropping the grass with the same vigorous persistency which they will show for hours, while the prairie, extending far to the right and left, failed to show any other living creature upon it. So far as he could tell, there was no cause for fear.