Chapter Thirteen.An uncomfortable state of things—Kluko pays us a visit—Startling intelligence—The fate of Silas Bracher—Return to the farm—The Indian’s friendship for Dio—The red man’s opinion of slavery—Uncle Denis’s menagerie—Winter at the farm—We have an adventure—Fight between a sable and porcupine—We capture the combatants—Their appearance—Treatment in the cage—Taming of the sable and urson—Loss of poultry—Imprisonment for life—Something about ourselves.The warning we had received of a projected attack on the farm by the Indians compelled us to be on our guard. We kept a strict watch at night, and two or three of us were constantly employed in scouting in the neighbourhood, so as in good time to discover any red-skins who might be approaching with hostile intent. Cunning as they may fancy themselves, they are in reality easily outwitted by the superior intelligence of white men.We had got so accustomed to this state of things that we took them as a matter of course. Even my mother, Kathleen, and Lily, were not in the slightest degree alarmed, though they became somewhat anxious when my father and uncle, or Dan and I did not return at the hour they expected. We were annoyed chiefly by the interruption to our usual avocations, as, when we had been out all day, neither our worthy Dominie, Dan, nor I were much inclined for lessons. We, however, managed to hunt as usual, as we could at the same time act as scouts, though we ran, it must be confessed, some risk of being caught by any hostile Indians who might be in the neighbourhood. Impunity, however, made us bold, and we were inclined to think that the threatened attack would never take place. The men continued cutting down trees, putting up fences, ploughing, and sowing, as regularly as before, though, by my father’s orders, they always carried their arms with them, and piled them close at hand, so as to be ready for instant use.Mr Tidey, Dan, and I had started on horseback one morning just before daybreak, agreeing to meet at noon at a certain spot about ten miles from the farm, by the side of a stream near a wood, where we could light our fire and cook any game we might have shot. I had had a successful morning’s sport, having shot a fawn, a couple of turkeys, and several small birds; and at the hour agreed on I arrived with my horse well loaded at our proposed camp. Finding that the Dominie and my brother had not yet reached it, I collected sticks and lighted a fire, so that I might have dinner ready for them.While I was so employed, occasionally taking a look round in the expectation of seeing either the Dominie or Dan approaching, I was startled by discovering an Indian who had suddenly emerged from the wood about twenty paces off. My first impulse was to seize my rifle which lay on the ground near me, but a second glance showed me that although he had a bow in his hand, there was no arrow in the string.“You are not as cautious as you should be, young pale-face,” he observed, as he came up to me. “This is the second time I have caught you off your guard; an enemy approaching as I did might have shot you before you had discovered him.”As he spoke I recognised our friend Kluko. We shook hands, and he seated himself by the fire, when I offered him some of the food I was cooking, which would, I knew, suit his taste, though not sufficiently roasted to please our palates.“I heard the sound of your rifle several times, and I tracked you here, as I wanted to bring you good news,” he said.“I thank you, pray speak on,” I answered; “I know that it will give Kluko as much pleasure to tell good news as it will afford me to hear it.”“When I saw you last, I warned you that a party of Blackfeet, instigated by a white man, had undertaken the destruction of your farm: I have now to tell you that they quarrelled with their white friend, and, following his trail as he journeyed westward, they have attacked his camp, and cut him and his people to pieces, carrying off their scalps as trophies.”“Do you speak of Silas Bracher?” I asked.“That was the name of the white chief; I have no doubt about the matter, although I could not remember it,” answered Kluko. “As the red-men obtained all the booty they could carry off, many times more than the amount of the reward they expected to receive, they are not likely to attack your farm, indeed they are already on their road back to their own hunting-grounds, so you may now rest in peace for some time to come. Should I again hear that they are out on the war-path, I will give you timely notice. You know Kluko is your friend, and that you can trust him.”I assured the Indian that I put full confidence in the information he had brought, and invited him to accompany us to the farm, as I was sure my father would be glad to see him and thank him for the service he had rendered us. He was evidently pleased, and said he would come and see his pale-faced brothers. In a short time Dan and Mr Tidey arrived, and after they had saluted our Indian friend in the usual fashion, I told them of the news he had brought.“I was very sure that that wretched man would come to a violent end,” observed Mr Tidey; “although he intended evil against us, we are bound not to rejoice over his fate; we have been protected by a higher power.”“The great Spirit takes care of those who trust him,” observed Kluko reverently.Having as much game as our horses could carry, we set off to return home. The Indian, although on foot, easily kept up with us, and I could not but admire his firm step and graceful carriage as he moved over the ground, whether rough or smooth. The information he brought, relieved my mother’s mind of a constant source of care, but though my father believed it to be true, he still considered it possible that the farm might some day or other be attacked, and insisted that we should continue the precautions we had hitherto adopted to escape being surprised.Kluko remained with us nearly a month, and won our regard by his quiet, intelligent, and unobtrusive manners. Although dressed in skins, he was perfectly the gentleman, moreover an enlightened and sincere Christian, for he had thrown aside all heathen customs and superstitions. His great object appeared to be to benefit his fellow-creatures. He became strongly attached to Dio, whose history he had heard, and expressed himself highly indignant that any people should reduce another race to slavery.“They speak with contempt of the red-men, but no red-men, cruel and blood-thirsty as they are, ever do that,” he observed. “When they take prisoners they torture them, it is true, for a short time, but they then put them to death; they would not subject them to a long life of torture of soul and body.”Kluko accompanied us on several hunting expeditions, but he was much less expert than we were in the use of the rifle. He could shoot very well when he got his weapon on a rest, but could never manage to bring down game on the wing. The first time he saw me kill a bird flying, he expressed his astonishment. He had been accustomed to the bow from his boyhood, he said, and, that his people never attempted to shoot at any creature except on the bough of a tree, or running along the ground.At length he took his departure, promising to pay us another visit ere long, should his life be spared. Month after month went by without any alarms from Indians, while we heard nothing more of the threatened attack on the farm by the Blackfeet.Uncle Denis was successful in trapping several animals to add to his menagerie. One day he arrived with two wolf cubs, which, although ill-tempered at first, soon became as tame as puppies, though less playful. We obtained also three young fawns, of different species of deer; charming little creatures they were, great pets with Kathleen and Lily, and would follow them round the farm and into the house. They were of course not allowed to go to a distance, lest they might be carried off by any wild animal prowling about. The young wolves at first showed an inclination to bite at them when they came near, but were soon taught better manners, and afterwards never attempted to molest them.Bruin soon became on the most friendly terms with them, and would roll on the ground, while they leapt over and over his body, and frolicked round and round him. One of the last animals added to the menagerie, was the most difficult to tame, and great doubt was entertained whether it would be prudent to allow it to associate with the other members of the happy family. Uncle Denis arrived with it on horseback in a big bag hung to the saddle-bow, late one evening.“What have you got there?” we all asked eagerly, as we saw that there was a living creature kicking about in the bag.“Something which, although at present somewhat inclined to be unruly, will, I hope, before long become as gentle as Lily’s pet lamb. I must send it to school, however, at first, to receive instruction, before I allow it to mix in the world. Here, Mike, take it to the cage; don’t let it out until I come and help you.”I took the bag from him, and by the weight I supposed that it contained an animal the size of a large cat. The cage, I should say, was about six feet high and eight square, composed of strong hickory, or oak bars, placed so close together, that no animal could force its way out, while only such as had teeth as strong as those of the beaver, could have bitten through the wood. The door was made to slide from side to side, in order that only as much of it as was necessary need be opened at a time. Uncle Denis, having untied the string of the bag, put the mouth inside, when out bounded a beautiful little animal of a tawny hue, with a long tail and a remarkably small head, somewhat more elongated than that of a cat. On its back and sides were several rows of dark streaks, and on its shoulders some spots of similar colour, resembling those of the leopard. It made towards the opposite bars, but finding it could not get out, began circling round and round the cage, looking very much astonished on finding that, although out of the bag, it could not escape.“Why, that’s a young panther,” exclaimed Dan. “Do you hope ever to tame it, Uncle Denis?”“A ‘painter’ it is, or rather a puma, to give it its proper name: I have no doubt that in a short time, it will be as gentle as a domestic cat,” answered our uncle; “but we must take care not to irritate it, as its temper is none of the sweetest.”The little creature continued running round and round, sometimes leaping up, and trying to scramble to the top of the cage, expecting, probably, to find an outlet in that direction. When at length it found all its efforts of no avail, it seemed to resign itself to its fate. Uncle Denis having brought it some small pieces of meat, it devoured them greedily, and looked towards his hands, expecting more. He gave it a very small portion at a time, refusing to give it any food, until it came humbly crawling up to receive the morsel. He then put in a number of leafy boughs, under which it crawled and went to sleep. The next day it was evidently tamer, and more accustomed to the sight of human beings, and after this, the moment he appeared, it came towards him in a suppliant manner to receive its food. In less than a week, it was perfectly tame, and before a month was over, followed him about like a dog, while it became on perfectly friendly terms with the rest of the animals. At first it evidently stood in awe of Bruin, conscious that the bear had the power of giving it an unpleasant gripe, but finding itself unharmed, began to play with its shaggy coated companion, and the two in a short time became fast friends.Once more wintry blasts blew up the valley, the ground was covered with snow, and lakes and streams were frozen over. We had plenty of occupation, both indoors and out, and although the days were short, the moon for nearly half the month afforded us light sufficient to move about with as great ease as in summer. Habited in dresses of fur, we hunted often at considerable distances from home, either bison or deer, or smaller animals.On such occasions we built a shanty in some sheltered wood, of birch bark, when it was to be procured, or boughs stuck into the ground close together, with a thick mass of snow piled up against them, while a cheerful fire blazed in front.Very frequently, however, we dispensed with any shelter beyond such as the wood afforded, and, wrapt in our blankets, lay down to sleep on the snow, canopied by the starry vault of heaven.Uncle Denis and I were out on one of these hunting expeditions, when, as we were following the tracks of a deer through a wood, accompanied by Boxer and Toby, my uncle, who was ahead, made a sign to me to advance cautiously, while he, stopping, concealed himself behind a tree. I crept forward as he desired, not knowing whether he had sighted a deer or a party of Indians on the war-path. On getting up to him, I found that he was observing the movements of two animals, very different in appearance to each other. On the trunk of a fallen tree, stood a porcupine, or urson, with quills erect, looking down on a smaller animal, which I at once recognised as a marten, or rather, a sable, which was gazing up in a defiant way, apparently meditating an attack on the other.“I should like to catch and tame both those animals,” whispered Uncle Denis. “Keep back the dogs or the sable will escape and the urson will treat them in a way they are not likely to forget.” The sable was evidently bent on having some porcupine meat for breakfast, and kept moving backwards and forwards, meditating a spring at the nose of its formidable antagonist; but, aware of the power of the latter’s tail, was waiting for a favourable opportunity to seize it. The porcupine, though so much larger, and naturally moving only at a slow pace, seemed aware of the superior agility of the sable, which would enable it to spring from side to side, or dash forward and attack it in front, when its armed tail would have been of no avail. Presently the sable retired to a distance, and I thought would have discovered us, but at that moment it made a dash at the nose of the porcupine, who, whisking round its tail in an extraordinary fashion, sent a shower of darts into the body of its opponent. This did not, however, prevent the latter from seizing it with its sharp teeth and dragging it to the ground.“Now is our time,” whispered Uncle Denis, putting down his rifle and unstrapping his blanket, and I imitating his example, we rushed forward and threw them over the two combatants. The sable, however, managed to spring out, when the dogs gave chase, but we were too much occupied to see with what result. The porcupine in its struggles whisked about its tail, sending several of its quills through the blanket, but the rest of its body being unarmed, we managed to press it down until we had tied the blanket tightly round it. Having secured the urson in a way which made its escape impossible, we turned our attention to the sable, which the dogs had brought to bay, but the brave little creature was becoming faint, from the wounds inflicted on it from the porcupine’s tail, the quills from which were sticking out all over one side of its body. Seeing that there was no other way of capturing it, I picked up a stick and dealt it a blow on the head, sufficient to stun it, but not to deprive it of life. While I kept back the dogs, Uncle Denis, kneeling down, pulled out the quills, and then throwing my blanket over the animal, he secured it as we had done the urson. It seemed very doubtful, however, whether it would revive, but my uncle said that he would take it home, and should it recover, would try, with gentle treatment, to tame its fierce spirit. To carry our unusual prizes, we formed a long pole from a sapling, to which we secured the creatures side by side. Placing the pole on our shoulders, we began our homeward march. We had the best part of the day before us, and hoped to reach the farm before dark. The urson, weighed heavily, and sometimes it made a convulsive struggle and very nearly worked itself out of the blanket. The sable for some time lay perfectly quiet, but at last we observed a movement in the blanket, which gave us hopes that it was reviving, and we had to put on additional fastenings lest it should escape. To make a long story short, we at length arrived, pretty well tired with our heavy burden. Our friends were somewhat disappointed on finding that we had brought a couple of living animals instead of the fat venison or buffalo they had expected. We, however, relieved their minds by telling them that we had left the meat of a couple of wapiti and a big-horn sheepen cache, and Martin and another man were sent off with the horses to bring it in. We had now to dispose of our captives. The urson was tumbled into the cage, which had before served as a prison to the young puma, while one of smaller dimensions, with iron bars, served as the present habitation of the sable. I cannot stop to describe the process by which both creatures were tamed. The next morning Kathleen and Lily came eagerly to look at them, as they had never seen anything of the kind before. They were greatly surprised at the size of the urson, which was nearly four feet long; the body measured upwards of three feet, and the tail rather less than nine inches. At first they thought it was a young bear, which, from the long blackish brown hair which covered it, concealing the quills, it somewhat resembled, it having also lost a considerable number of the longer quills in its fight with the sable. It had, however, others on the head and hind-quarters, which were more visible than the short ones on the rest of its body. The urson plays a not unimportant part in the destruction of the forests of North America, as it feeds entirely on the bark of trees. This it separates from the branches with its sharp teeth, commencing at the highest and working its way downwards. Having destroyed one tree, it climbs up to the top of another, and carries on the same process, always proceeding in a straight line, and I have often, when passing through a forest, been able to trace its progress by the line of barked trees, which are sure ultimately to die. It is asserted by some hunters, that a single urson will consume the bark of a hundred trees in the course of a year. Our urson, though it became attached to Uncle Denis and would feed out of his hand, was always an object of awe to the rest of the animals, who seemed well aware of its power of inflicting punishment on any of them who might offend it. Even Bruin held it in respect, and none of them ever attempted to be on too familiar terms.The sable took even longer to tame than the urson. We used to feed it partly on vegetable and partly on animal diet. In winter it preferred the latter. After it had had its meals, it had the habit of going to sleep so soundly that it was difficult to awaken it. It was about eighteen inches long, exclusive of its bushy tail, and much resembled the ordinary marten in shape. The fur was of a rich brown, with white about the neck, and on the head there was a grey tinge. It was of unusual length for so small an animal, and its most remarkable peculiarity was, that in whatever way the hair was pressed down, it lay smoothly on the animal’s back. It extended down the legs to the end of the claws. So tame did it at last become, that it was allowed to roam about at large. Shortly afterwards Kathleen and Lily lost a favourite hen and several young chickens, and as there could be no doubt as to who was the criminal, the sable was doomed to imprisonment for life. Its health suffered in consequence, and in a couple of years it died, but Uncle Denis got 10 pounds for its skin, so that it thus became far more profitable dead than alive.I have said little of the doings of my sister and Lily. Both were growing into charming young girls, and certainly looked older than they really were. They were also—which was of more importance—sensible and good, devoted to our mother. I always looked upon Lily as a sister; indeed our mother treated her with the same affection as she did Kathleen.Months and years went by, faster than I could suppose possible. We brought more and more ground under cultivation, our cattle increased, as did our herds of swine even still faster, while the few sheep we had brought became a large flock. Mr Tidey still acted as tutor to the family. Dan had, however, become almost a young man, and I had long considered myself grown up. We laboured on the farm, hunted and fished and traded in furs; some of the furs we bought from the Indians, and a considerable number we trapped or shot ourselves.Uncle Denis remained a bachelor, although, when urged by my mother, he sometimes talked of going eastward to look out for a wife. I had no intention of following his example even if he did go. I could not tell whether Lily would consent to marry me, but I determined some day to ask her, feeling now that I should never find her equal in any part of the world.
The warning we had received of a projected attack on the farm by the Indians compelled us to be on our guard. We kept a strict watch at night, and two or three of us were constantly employed in scouting in the neighbourhood, so as in good time to discover any red-skins who might be approaching with hostile intent. Cunning as they may fancy themselves, they are in reality easily outwitted by the superior intelligence of white men.
We had got so accustomed to this state of things that we took them as a matter of course. Even my mother, Kathleen, and Lily, were not in the slightest degree alarmed, though they became somewhat anxious when my father and uncle, or Dan and I did not return at the hour they expected. We were annoyed chiefly by the interruption to our usual avocations, as, when we had been out all day, neither our worthy Dominie, Dan, nor I were much inclined for lessons. We, however, managed to hunt as usual, as we could at the same time act as scouts, though we ran, it must be confessed, some risk of being caught by any hostile Indians who might be in the neighbourhood. Impunity, however, made us bold, and we were inclined to think that the threatened attack would never take place. The men continued cutting down trees, putting up fences, ploughing, and sowing, as regularly as before, though, by my father’s orders, they always carried their arms with them, and piled them close at hand, so as to be ready for instant use.
Mr Tidey, Dan, and I had started on horseback one morning just before daybreak, agreeing to meet at noon at a certain spot about ten miles from the farm, by the side of a stream near a wood, where we could light our fire and cook any game we might have shot. I had had a successful morning’s sport, having shot a fawn, a couple of turkeys, and several small birds; and at the hour agreed on I arrived with my horse well loaded at our proposed camp. Finding that the Dominie and my brother had not yet reached it, I collected sticks and lighted a fire, so that I might have dinner ready for them.
While I was so employed, occasionally taking a look round in the expectation of seeing either the Dominie or Dan approaching, I was startled by discovering an Indian who had suddenly emerged from the wood about twenty paces off. My first impulse was to seize my rifle which lay on the ground near me, but a second glance showed me that although he had a bow in his hand, there was no arrow in the string.
“You are not as cautious as you should be, young pale-face,” he observed, as he came up to me. “This is the second time I have caught you off your guard; an enemy approaching as I did might have shot you before you had discovered him.”
As he spoke I recognised our friend Kluko. We shook hands, and he seated himself by the fire, when I offered him some of the food I was cooking, which would, I knew, suit his taste, though not sufficiently roasted to please our palates.
“I heard the sound of your rifle several times, and I tracked you here, as I wanted to bring you good news,” he said.
“I thank you, pray speak on,” I answered; “I know that it will give Kluko as much pleasure to tell good news as it will afford me to hear it.”
“When I saw you last, I warned you that a party of Blackfeet, instigated by a white man, had undertaken the destruction of your farm: I have now to tell you that they quarrelled with their white friend, and, following his trail as he journeyed westward, they have attacked his camp, and cut him and his people to pieces, carrying off their scalps as trophies.”
“Do you speak of Silas Bracher?” I asked.
“That was the name of the white chief; I have no doubt about the matter, although I could not remember it,” answered Kluko. “As the red-men obtained all the booty they could carry off, many times more than the amount of the reward they expected to receive, they are not likely to attack your farm, indeed they are already on their road back to their own hunting-grounds, so you may now rest in peace for some time to come. Should I again hear that they are out on the war-path, I will give you timely notice. You know Kluko is your friend, and that you can trust him.”
I assured the Indian that I put full confidence in the information he had brought, and invited him to accompany us to the farm, as I was sure my father would be glad to see him and thank him for the service he had rendered us. He was evidently pleased, and said he would come and see his pale-faced brothers. In a short time Dan and Mr Tidey arrived, and after they had saluted our Indian friend in the usual fashion, I told them of the news he had brought.
“I was very sure that that wretched man would come to a violent end,” observed Mr Tidey; “although he intended evil against us, we are bound not to rejoice over his fate; we have been protected by a higher power.”
“The great Spirit takes care of those who trust him,” observed Kluko reverently.
Having as much game as our horses could carry, we set off to return home. The Indian, although on foot, easily kept up with us, and I could not but admire his firm step and graceful carriage as he moved over the ground, whether rough or smooth. The information he brought, relieved my mother’s mind of a constant source of care, but though my father believed it to be true, he still considered it possible that the farm might some day or other be attacked, and insisted that we should continue the precautions we had hitherto adopted to escape being surprised.
Kluko remained with us nearly a month, and won our regard by his quiet, intelligent, and unobtrusive manners. Although dressed in skins, he was perfectly the gentleman, moreover an enlightened and sincere Christian, for he had thrown aside all heathen customs and superstitions. His great object appeared to be to benefit his fellow-creatures. He became strongly attached to Dio, whose history he had heard, and expressed himself highly indignant that any people should reduce another race to slavery.
“They speak with contempt of the red-men, but no red-men, cruel and blood-thirsty as they are, ever do that,” he observed. “When they take prisoners they torture them, it is true, for a short time, but they then put them to death; they would not subject them to a long life of torture of soul and body.”
Kluko accompanied us on several hunting expeditions, but he was much less expert than we were in the use of the rifle. He could shoot very well when he got his weapon on a rest, but could never manage to bring down game on the wing. The first time he saw me kill a bird flying, he expressed his astonishment. He had been accustomed to the bow from his boyhood, he said, and, that his people never attempted to shoot at any creature except on the bough of a tree, or running along the ground.
At length he took his departure, promising to pay us another visit ere long, should his life be spared. Month after month went by without any alarms from Indians, while we heard nothing more of the threatened attack on the farm by the Blackfeet.
Uncle Denis was successful in trapping several animals to add to his menagerie. One day he arrived with two wolf cubs, which, although ill-tempered at first, soon became as tame as puppies, though less playful. We obtained also three young fawns, of different species of deer; charming little creatures they were, great pets with Kathleen and Lily, and would follow them round the farm and into the house. They were of course not allowed to go to a distance, lest they might be carried off by any wild animal prowling about. The young wolves at first showed an inclination to bite at them when they came near, but were soon taught better manners, and afterwards never attempted to molest them.
Bruin soon became on the most friendly terms with them, and would roll on the ground, while they leapt over and over his body, and frolicked round and round him. One of the last animals added to the menagerie, was the most difficult to tame, and great doubt was entertained whether it would be prudent to allow it to associate with the other members of the happy family. Uncle Denis arrived with it on horseback in a big bag hung to the saddle-bow, late one evening.
“What have you got there?” we all asked eagerly, as we saw that there was a living creature kicking about in the bag.
“Something which, although at present somewhat inclined to be unruly, will, I hope, before long become as gentle as Lily’s pet lamb. I must send it to school, however, at first, to receive instruction, before I allow it to mix in the world. Here, Mike, take it to the cage; don’t let it out until I come and help you.”
I took the bag from him, and by the weight I supposed that it contained an animal the size of a large cat. The cage, I should say, was about six feet high and eight square, composed of strong hickory, or oak bars, placed so close together, that no animal could force its way out, while only such as had teeth as strong as those of the beaver, could have bitten through the wood. The door was made to slide from side to side, in order that only as much of it as was necessary need be opened at a time. Uncle Denis, having untied the string of the bag, put the mouth inside, when out bounded a beautiful little animal of a tawny hue, with a long tail and a remarkably small head, somewhat more elongated than that of a cat. On its back and sides were several rows of dark streaks, and on its shoulders some spots of similar colour, resembling those of the leopard. It made towards the opposite bars, but finding it could not get out, began circling round and round the cage, looking very much astonished on finding that, although out of the bag, it could not escape.
“Why, that’s a young panther,” exclaimed Dan. “Do you hope ever to tame it, Uncle Denis?”
“A ‘painter’ it is, or rather a puma, to give it its proper name: I have no doubt that in a short time, it will be as gentle as a domestic cat,” answered our uncle; “but we must take care not to irritate it, as its temper is none of the sweetest.”
The little creature continued running round and round, sometimes leaping up, and trying to scramble to the top of the cage, expecting, probably, to find an outlet in that direction. When at length it found all its efforts of no avail, it seemed to resign itself to its fate. Uncle Denis having brought it some small pieces of meat, it devoured them greedily, and looked towards his hands, expecting more. He gave it a very small portion at a time, refusing to give it any food, until it came humbly crawling up to receive the morsel. He then put in a number of leafy boughs, under which it crawled and went to sleep. The next day it was evidently tamer, and more accustomed to the sight of human beings, and after this, the moment he appeared, it came towards him in a suppliant manner to receive its food. In less than a week, it was perfectly tame, and before a month was over, followed him about like a dog, while it became on perfectly friendly terms with the rest of the animals. At first it evidently stood in awe of Bruin, conscious that the bear had the power of giving it an unpleasant gripe, but finding itself unharmed, began to play with its shaggy coated companion, and the two in a short time became fast friends.
Once more wintry blasts blew up the valley, the ground was covered with snow, and lakes and streams were frozen over. We had plenty of occupation, both indoors and out, and although the days were short, the moon for nearly half the month afforded us light sufficient to move about with as great ease as in summer. Habited in dresses of fur, we hunted often at considerable distances from home, either bison or deer, or smaller animals.
On such occasions we built a shanty in some sheltered wood, of birch bark, when it was to be procured, or boughs stuck into the ground close together, with a thick mass of snow piled up against them, while a cheerful fire blazed in front.
Very frequently, however, we dispensed with any shelter beyond such as the wood afforded, and, wrapt in our blankets, lay down to sleep on the snow, canopied by the starry vault of heaven.
Uncle Denis and I were out on one of these hunting expeditions, when, as we were following the tracks of a deer through a wood, accompanied by Boxer and Toby, my uncle, who was ahead, made a sign to me to advance cautiously, while he, stopping, concealed himself behind a tree. I crept forward as he desired, not knowing whether he had sighted a deer or a party of Indians on the war-path. On getting up to him, I found that he was observing the movements of two animals, very different in appearance to each other. On the trunk of a fallen tree, stood a porcupine, or urson, with quills erect, looking down on a smaller animal, which I at once recognised as a marten, or rather, a sable, which was gazing up in a defiant way, apparently meditating an attack on the other.
“I should like to catch and tame both those animals,” whispered Uncle Denis. “Keep back the dogs or the sable will escape and the urson will treat them in a way they are not likely to forget.” The sable was evidently bent on having some porcupine meat for breakfast, and kept moving backwards and forwards, meditating a spring at the nose of its formidable antagonist; but, aware of the power of the latter’s tail, was waiting for a favourable opportunity to seize it. The porcupine, though so much larger, and naturally moving only at a slow pace, seemed aware of the superior agility of the sable, which would enable it to spring from side to side, or dash forward and attack it in front, when its armed tail would have been of no avail. Presently the sable retired to a distance, and I thought would have discovered us, but at that moment it made a dash at the nose of the porcupine, who, whisking round its tail in an extraordinary fashion, sent a shower of darts into the body of its opponent. This did not, however, prevent the latter from seizing it with its sharp teeth and dragging it to the ground.
“Now is our time,” whispered Uncle Denis, putting down his rifle and unstrapping his blanket, and I imitating his example, we rushed forward and threw them over the two combatants. The sable, however, managed to spring out, when the dogs gave chase, but we were too much occupied to see with what result. The porcupine in its struggles whisked about its tail, sending several of its quills through the blanket, but the rest of its body being unarmed, we managed to press it down until we had tied the blanket tightly round it. Having secured the urson in a way which made its escape impossible, we turned our attention to the sable, which the dogs had brought to bay, but the brave little creature was becoming faint, from the wounds inflicted on it from the porcupine’s tail, the quills from which were sticking out all over one side of its body. Seeing that there was no other way of capturing it, I picked up a stick and dealt it a blow on the head, sufficient to stun it, but not to deprive it of life. While I kept back the dogs, Uncle Denis, kneeling down, pulled out the quills, and then throwing my blanket over the animal, he secured it as we had done the urson. It seemed very doubtful, however, whether it would revive, but my uncle said that he would take it home, and should it recover, would try, with gentle treatment, to tame its fierce spirit. To carry our unusual prizes, we formed a long pole from a sapling, to which we secured the creatures side by side. Placing the pole on our shoulders, we began our homeward march. We had the best part of the day before us, and hoped to reach the farm before dark. The urson, weighed heavily, and sometimes it made a convulsive struggle and very nearly worked itself out of the blanket. The sable for some time lay perfectly quiet, but at last we observed a movement in the blanket, which gave us hopes that it was reviving, and we had to put on additional fastenings lest it should escape. To make a long story short, we at length arrived, pretty well tired with our heavy burden. Our friends were somewhat disappointed on finding that we had brought a couple of living animals instead of the fat venison or buffalo they had expected. We, however, relieved their minds by telling them that we had left the meat of a couple of wapiti and a big-horn sheepen cache, and Martin and another man were sent off with the horses to bring it in. We had now to dispose of our captives. The urson was tumbled into the cage, which had before served as a prison to the young puma, while one of smaller dimensions, with iron bars, served as the present habitation of the sable. I cannot stop to describe the process by which both creatures were tamed. The next morning Kathleen and Lily came eagerly to look at them, as they had never seen anything of the kind before. They were greatly surprised at the size of the urson, which was nearly four feet long; the body measured upwards of three feet, and the tail rather less than nine inches. At first they thought it was a young bear, which, from the long blackish brown hair which covered it, concealing the quills, it somewhat resembled, it having also lost a considerable number of the longer quills in its fight with the sable. It had, however, others on the head and hind-quarters, which were more visible than the short ones on the rest of its body. The urson plays a not unimportant part in the destruction of the forests of North America, as it feeds entirely on the bark of trees. This it separates from the branches with its sharp teeth, commencing at the highest and working its way downwards. Having destroyed one tree, it climbs up to the top of another, and carries on the same process, always proceeding in a straight line, and I have often, when passing through a forest, been able to trace its progress by the line of barked trees, which are sure ultimately to die. It is asserted by some hunters, that a single urson will consume the bark of a hundred trees in the course of a year. Our urson, though it became attached to Uncle Denis and would feed out of his hand, was always an object of awe to the rest of the animals, who seemed well aware of its power of inflicting punishment on any of them who might offend it. Even Bruin held it in respect, and none of them ever attempted to be on too familiar terms.
The sable took even longer to tame than the urson. We used to feed it partly on vegetable and partly on animal diet. In winter it preferred the latter. After it had had its meals, it had the habit of going to sleep so soundly that it was difficult to awaken it. It was about eighteen inches long, exclusive of its bushy tail, and much resembled the ordinary marten in shape. The fur was of a rich brown, with white about the neck, and on the head there was a grey tinge. It was of unusual length for so small an animal, and its most remarkable peculiarity was, that in whatever way the hair was pressed down, it lay smoothly on the animal’s back. It extended down the legs to the end of the claws. So tame did it at last become, that it was allowed to roam about at large. Shortly afterwards Kathleen and Lily lost a favourite hen and several young chickens, and as there could be no doubt as to who was the criminal, the sable was doomed to imprisonment for life. Its health suffered in consequence, and in a couple of years it died, but Uncle Denis got 10 pounds for its skin, so that it thus became far more profitable dead than alive.
I have said little of the doings of my sister and Lily. Both were growing into charming young girls, and certainly looked older than they really were. They were also—which was of more importance—sensible and good, devoted to our mother. I always looked upon Lily as a sister; indeed our mother treated her with the same affection as she did Kathleen.
Months and years went by, faster than I could suppose possible. We brought more and more ground under cultivation, our cattle increased, as did our herds of swine even still faster, while the few sheep we had brought became a large flock. Mr Tidey still acted as tutor to the family. Dan had, however, become almost a young man, and I had long considered myself grown up. We laboured on the farm, hunted and fished and traded in furs; some of the furs we bought from the Indians, and a considerable number we trapped or shot ourselves.
Uncle Denis remained a bachelor, although, when urged by my mother, he sometimes talked of going eastward to look out for a wife. I had no intention of following his example even if he did go. I could not tell whether Lily would consent to marry me, but I determined some day to ask her, feeling now that I should never find her equal in any part of the world.
Chapter Fourteen.My mother is taken dangerously ill—Dio and I set off to Fort Hamilton—Boxer disobedient—End of our first day’s journey—An agreeable addition to our supper—Cat-fish—My dog on the watch—A midnight interruption—Overtaken by the snow—A trying day’s march—We are at length able to camp—Strong inclination to sleep—Boxer keeps watch—The red-skins near—Our horses and rifles stolen—We suffer from hunger—We continue our way on foot—Sleep in a hollow tree—Pursued by wolves—We kill one of the pack—Saved by our dog and a buffalo carcase—Worn out—Camp.Hitherto our community had enjoyed the most uninterrupted good health, no accidents had even occurred requiring more surgical skill than my father or uncle were able to afford. In this we were especially fortunate, for we knew of no doctor nearer than Fort Hamilton, and we could scarcely expect him to come in any ordinary case of illness. At length our dear mother began to ail, and her pale cheek and sunken eye showed that she was suffering greatly. One evening, towards the end of the year, the trees being already stripped of their leaves, Lily came to me.“Our dear mother is, I fear, very, very ill,” she said; “I don’t think that your father is aware how serious her case is, and unless we can get a doctor to prescribe for her, I am afraid that she will die. I should be sorry to frighten you unnecessarily, Mike, but I am sure it is of the greatest importance that a medical man should see her without delay.”“I am ready to set off this moment, and I will endeavour to bring back a doctor at all costs,” I answered.“Do go, Mike,” she said; “and yet I fear that you may encounter dangers on the way, the journey is long, and the Indians are less peaceably disposed, it is reported, than they have been of late, but I pray that God will protect you, and I am sure that He will, when you are performing an act of duty.”“Neither difficulties nor dangers shall prevent me from going, and I feel as you do, that it is most important our mother should have medical assistance. I am the fittest person to go, and I shall have no fears, knowing that you, dear Lily, are praying for me.”“Remember too, Mike, that God will hear my prayers, and grant them too, as He has promised,” exclaimed Lily; “what an encouragement it is to know that He does hear faithful prayer, and never fails to attend to it.”As may be supposed, this was not the whole of our conversation. When my father came in, I broke the subject to him; not wishing to alarm him more than necessary about my mother’s health, at the same time anxious to obtain his permission for going. He at first hesitated, as I expected that he would do, being more aware even than Lily was of the difficulties of such a journey at that season of the year, when at any time a snow-storm might come on and cover the ground many feet in depth. At last, however, when I told him what Lily had said, he consented. I had intended to go alone, trusting to my rifle for support, should I require more provisions than I could carry on my horse. As soon as I announced my intention of starting, Dio entreated that he might accompany me.“I will keep up wid you, Massa Mike, however fast you may hab to go. Watch at night when you camp, and will remain by you while I have life, should you be attacked by Indians or grizzlies. Do let me go?” exclaimed the faithful fellow.“I only hesitated, Dio, lest you might suffer from the weather, should the winter begin before we can get back,” I answered.He thanked me when I consented, as much as if I had granted him a great favour. He at once proposed that, as the winds were already cold, we should put on our warm clothing, so as to be prepared for snow and frost, should it overtake us. As his advice was good, I of course agreed to follow it.The next morning we were on foot before daybreak. My father had authorised me to offer a large fee to the surgeon, and he sent a message entreating the commandant to allow him to come, and promising to send him back under a strong escort if necessary.Kathleen and Lily were up to get my breakfast and to see us off.“May Heaven protect you, my boy, and bring you back in safety with the doctor,” said my father, as he wrung my hand.Other farewells were said, and mounted on our favourite horses, with our rifles and pistols ready to our hands, our buffalo robes and blankets strapped behind us, and our haversacks filled with provisions and cooking utensils hung to our saddles, we set off. The increasing light enabled us to go at a good speed. We had got some distance from home, when looking round I saw that Boxer was following us. I ordered him to go back, but though always obedient, after stopping an instant, he came on again, and as he had volunteered to undergo the fatigues of the journey, I allowed him to come. As soon as I called him, he rushed forward, leaping and barking to show his delight, and then fell behind again, steadily making his way at the heels of our horses. With the first part of the country we were well acquainted, and as the weather promised to be fine, we hoped to make a rapid journey. We got over a good distance during the first day, and camped comfortably in the sheltered nook of a wood near a stream, where our horses could obtain plenty of grass. As it was important to husband our provisions, Dio, who had brought a fishing-line and hooks, fitted up a rod, and was fortunate enough to catch two fine cat-fish. The cat-fish, although its name is not attractive, is excellent when cooked. It has, indeed, a very fine flavour, is firm, white, and very rich. In appearance it is like a diminutive dolphin. It has double fins in addition to those on its back, and a long beard-like excrescence hangs from each side of its mouth. One was more than sufficient for our supper, but Boxer had no objection to eat the remainder. I was very glad my faithful dog had come, as he assisted to keep watch, and was not likely to allow any foe to approach the camp without giving us warning. Having built a lean-to, we arranged our beds, composed of twigs and leaves, of which there were abundance on the ground, and with our saddles for pillows and our feet to the fire, we rolled ourselves up in our blankets, feeling as comfortable as any people could do on feather beds. I, however, had not been long sleeping, when I was awakened by hearing Boxer barking furiously close to my ears. Starting up I saw a huge white animal, with glaring eyes, staring at us from a respectful distance. Boxer, though a brave dog, had apparently thought it prudent not to attack the creature without arousing me to be ready to assist him. Leaping to my feet, I instinctively seized my rifle, and, remembering the tricks played by Indians, my first idea was that it was an enemy covered up by a wolf-skin, trying to inspect our camp, and perhaps to steal our rifles and other property, should he have an opportunity. I then recollected that an Indian was much more likely to carry off our horses, and looking round I saw them feeding quietly at the spot where they had been left. They could not have seen the wolf, and the wolf could not have seen them. I was convinced, however, that the animal I had seen was really a wolf. On observing me move, huge as it was, it began to slink away, showing that it was alone, and had not the courage to attack a man and a dog. Though I could have knocked it over with my rifle, I did not think it worthy of powder and shot, but calling to Dio, I picked up a thick stick, that had served to poke up the fire, and ran forward. The creature now took the alarm, and bounded off at full speed, Boxer and I following close at its heels. The dog, exerting itself to the utmost, at last made a spring and fixed his teeth in the hind-quarters of the wolf, somewhat impeding its progress. This enabled me to get up and deal several hard blows on the creature’s head, one of which, given with more force, or better aim, brought it to the ground, and Dio coming up, we quickly deprived it of life. The skin, from the size of the animal and its rare colour, was of some value, but as we could not carry it with us, we hung it up to the branch of a tree, on the chance of finding it on our return, merely taking some of the flesh to reward Boxer for his vigilance and exertions.“Dis not good ting to do, Massa Mike,” observed Dio, as we returned to camp; “maybe other wolves come, too many for us, when we sleep, and we find hard job to get away from them.”“I don’t see why, because we have killed one white wolf, we are more likely to be attacked by the brown ones,” I answered; “had we let it escape, we might with more reason suppose that it would tell its fellows.”Dio shook his head, but he let the subject drop, and once more, on reaching camp, we went to sleep, trusting to Boxer to call us if necessary, and as we could not take the wolf-skin, he benefited most by the adventure.The night had been lovely, the stars were still shining brightly overhead when we awoke. Knowing that it was nearly morning, I proposed that we should breakfast and ride on. There was daylight sufficient to enable us to see our way. Boxer, not content with his plentiful supper, as soon as he saw us moving, started off in the direction of the dead wolf, and when we were on the point of mounting, reappeared with his mouth besmeared with blood, showing how he had been employed. From the way he moved on, I was afraid he had over-eaten himself; he, however, contrived to keep up with our horses. During the night there had not been a breath of wind, but as the sun rose, it began to blow fresh from the east, and soon shifted to the northward, from which quarter a bank of clouds rising rapidly, formed a dark canopy over the sky. On one side the sun shone brightly across the prairie, lighting up its vivid tints of green and brown and yellow, while on the other the whole country wore a wintry aspect. Every instant the wind became stronger and stronger, and the cold increased. Unbuckling our buffalo robes, we put them over our shoulders, drawing down the flaps of our caps to keep our ears warm. Before long it began to rain, but the rain soon changed into snow, which came down thicker and thicker, until, in the course of an hour, the whole face of the country was covered by a sheet of white, making it difficult to distinguish the marks which had hitherto guided our course.“Dis not pleasant, Massa Mike,” observed Dio; “we must push on to a wood, for if de snow falls as it now does, before many hours de horses will not be able to travel through it.”Dio was perfectly right, but the question was whether we could find the desired wood. From my knowledge of the country, I believed that no forest existed for many miles, the intermediate space being one extensive prairie, the very worst description of country to be caught in by a snow-storm. Still it would not do to pull up where we were, as we had no means of lighting a fire. We urged on our horses therefore, trying to keep as direct a course as possible. The snow, however, fell so thickly, that we could no longer discern objects at any distance. It was difficult, indeed, to steer a straight course, for the flakes quickly obliterated the tracks of our horses’ hoofs. We could only judge that we were going right by the wind, which blew on our left cheeks. That, however, veered about, coming in fitful gusts, and driving the snow against our eyes with a force that almost blinded us. Our horses, too, began to grow weary by their efforts to make their way through the snow, and I feared, after all, that we should have to dismount, and lead them on by the bridle. Still it would not do to give in.“We must push forward, Dio, and perhaps the snow before long will cease,” I observed.“Nebber fear, Massa Mike,” answered the faithful black whose teeth were chattering with the cold; “worse things dan dis happen ’fore now, and we got safe out of dem.”I remembered, indeed, my many former providential escapes, and I had not forgotten that my dear little Lily was praying for us. Still matters looked worse and worse. The snow gave no sign of ceasing, while the wind blew more keenly and fiercely than before. The day, too, was drawing to a close. A night on the prairie under such circumstances would be truly dreadful. There was no moon, and with the sky obscured, should the snow continue to fall, we might even possibly become separated. I urged Dio to keep close to me, and I knew that Boxer would not fail to do so. We rode on and on, but our steeds went slower and slower, while the cold had become so intense that I feared we should be frozen if we continued to ride; I therefore, in the hopes of getting my blood into quicker circulation, by the exertion of walking, got off, as did Dio, and we led our horses. I went first, he following close behind me, and Boxer bringing up the rear. The snow had become so deep, that I had to lift up my feet at every step, making the exertion excessively fatiguing. Our horses went on readily enough. As I beat a path, Dio had somewhat less difficulty than I had. At last he begged that he might lead the way to relieve me, but this I would not allow. Severe as was the exercise, I still preferred it to riding. At last, our horses being somewhat rested, having brushed the snow from our saddles, we remounted and endeavoured to urge them on at a faster rate than we had lately been going. The snow suddenly ceased falling. I stood up in my stirrups to look round, in the hopes of distinguishing a wood in one direction or another where we might find shelter, but one uniform sheet of white covered the whole ground as far as the eye could see. Our great object was to keep in a straight line towards the east, but, as before, we had only the wind to guide us. Scarcely had we gone a hundred yards, when the snow again fell as thickly as ever. I felt the cold creeping over me. Poor Dio I knew must be suffering even more than I was, but not a word of complaint did he utter.“Long lane, massa, dat hab no turnin’!” he cried out, trying to laugh. “Perhaps ’fore long we come to de wood where plenty of sticks, and we light fire, build hut, an’ de horses find grass, an’ we sit down warm and comfortable.”“I shall be very thankful if we do,” I answered; “but it has become terribly dark. It will be a difficult matter to see a wood, even should we get near one.”“Yes, Massa Mike, but de hosses find it out, even it we don’t,” answered Dio in a cheery tone; “what we best do is to let dem take dare own way; dey know what the wood is, dough we no see him.”I followed Dio’s advice, but our horses showed no inclination to turn either to the right hand or to the left, but ploughed on through the snow, as though unwilling to remain exposed to it as we were; I took out my watch, but could scarcely see the hands, though I managed to make out that it was about five o’clock, and that the sun must have set; indeed, the rapidly increasing darkness assured me that in a short time night would overtake us. I soon could only barely distinguish the outline of my horse’s head against the white ground. I frequently spoke to Dio, for fear any accident should make him drop behind, when he might have a difficulty in finding me again.“Do not lose sight of my horse’s tail, whatever you do,” I shouted out.Dio promised to keep me in sight, but that was not so easy, though probably his horse would from instinct keep close behind mine. At last I could scarcely see my own hand when I held it up, and my horse’s ears were totally invisible. I had heard of travellers crossing the open prairie perishing in a snow-storm, and I began to fear that such might be our fate, but then I recollected Lily and my little sister. They were praying for us, and I took courage. Several times Dio and I got off to warm ourselves, but as I found on the whole that we made slower progress on foot than on horseback, we again remounted. I have since wondered how we could have endured the chilling breath of that piercing wind for so many hours. On and on we went, the time appeared longer indeed than it really was, but we had no means of calculating how it went by. Dio continued talking, both to assure me that he was close behind, and to keep up my spirits, though the idea of giving in as long as we and our horses had strength to move, never occurred to me. At length it seemed to me that my horse was verging to one side, as I felt the wind blowing in my teeth, more directly than it had hitherto done, then, after some time longer, a low murmuring sound reached my ears. It was, I fancied, the soughing of the wind among the branches of tall trees. Still I could see no object ahead. Next there came a lull, but the snow did not decrease. Presently I made out what seemed like a large column close to me, on the right hand side, then I saw another on the left. They were the trunks of trees, and from the irregular way the snow flakes fell, I was sure that we had gained the confines of the wood.“We all right now, Massa Mike,” sang out Dio; “dis is de wood: we get off and build a hut under some of dese trees.”On dismounting, as Dio proposed, I found that the snow was scarcely an inch deep. By creeping about we discovered a clump of trees, under the lee of which but little snow had rested. We could feel that there was grass, and were consequently sure that our horses would not stray from the spot. We therefore took off the saddles and saddle-bags, and, having put on their halters instead of their bridles, left them to feed, while we broke off, from the lower branches and bushes, a sufficient amount of dead wood to kindle a fire. It was somewhat doubtful, however, whether the wind would allow us to light it, or if we succeeded in doing so, whether it would scatter the sparks about, and perhaps ignite some of the underwood, so as to set the whole forest in a blaze. Against such a catastrophe as this we had especially to guard. The idea also occurred to me that possibly some old bear might have taken up its winter-quarters in the hollow trunk of one of the trees, but I was satisfied from Boxer’s quiet behaviour that such was not likely to be the case; he followed close at my heels wherever I went, and I knew that he would spring forward, should any savage animal be near, to do battle in my defence. Dio and I kept talking the whole time, that we might not run the risk of being separated. As I was groping about, I observed a luminous appearance, somewhat like the embers of a fire, though of a paler hue. It was a mass of touchwood in the hollow of a tree. I put my hand in and broke off a lump. Though it would not afford flame itself, it would enable us to kindle a blaze. Close below it I discovered a quantity of dry leaves, and we now had the means of making what we so much required, a fire to warm our benumbed limbs. No hunter in the prairies is ever without a flint and steel, and we soon had a cheerful fire, burning away between the roots of a thick tree, round which we crouched with our buffalo robes over our shoulders, Boxer joining us to enjoy the warmth. We had had no food since the morning, and as we began to grow warm our hunger also increased.“Where are the saddle-bags?” I asked, thinking they were close at hand.“I put dem down whar’ we unsaddled the horses—I go get dem,” said Dio. Jumping up he speedily returned with them, bringing also the saucepan and tin mugs, with a water-bottle which was still quite full, but he left the saddles, where they had been first placed on the ground. Our hunger made us immediately apply to the contents of the saddle-bags, while we put on our saucepan to brew some tea, which served more quickly than anything else to restore warmth to our bodies. Poor Boxer, however, came off but badly, as we could only afford to give him a small portion of the bacon and bread, being disappointed of the game we hoped to shoot to feed him. As to building a hut, besides the difficulty of obtaining materials, both Dio and I were so fatigued, that once having sat down we felt no inclination to move about more than was necessary. All we could do, indeed, was to collect a further supply of wood to keep up our fire. On looking at my watch I found that it wanted scarcely three hours to morning. I felt by this time an overpowering inclination to sleep, and Dio, I saw by the way he uttered his words, was affected in the same manner. As far as we could judge the snow continued to come down as heavily as before, but as we were protected by the thick overhanging limbs of the trees, very little fell on us. We could hear our horses cropping the grass, where we had tethered them, and we hoped they would obtain sufficient to enable them to continue the journey the next day. To keep awake any longer I found was impossible, so, drawing my blanket tightly round me, I lay down with my feet towards the fire, as near as I could venture to place them without fear of being burned. Dio was already asleep, and I dropped off immediately afterwards. I do not know how long it was after I had closed my eyes, when I became conscious that Boxer was crawling close to me, licking my face, trembling and whining in a peculiar manner. I was, however, so heavy with sleep, that I did not comprehend for some time the cause of this. Finding that he could not rouse me, he rushed across to Dio, whose voice I soon heard.“Some ting de matter, Massa Mike. Wake up, wake up. Boxer know dat red-skin not far off.”Boxer again came back to me and gave a pull at my blanket, which effectually awakened me.“Red-skins!” I cried out, sitting up and listening. “I can hear nothing.”“Boxer does dough,” answered Dio.The fire had burnt low, a few glowing embers alone remained, insufficient to cast a light to any distance, I sprang up, intending to put some more wood on to kindle a blaze, when the sound of horses’ feet reached my ears. “Our animals have got loose at all events, and if we are not quick about it, we shall have a hard job to recover them,” I exclaimed.Without a moment’s delay I dashed forward in the direction in which we had left the horses tethered, followed by Dio. They were both gone. If they had pulled up the tether-pegs, and we were under a mistake in supposing that Indians had carried them off, we might easily catch them in the morning. Should we follow them now, we might run the risk of losing ourselves, and indeed it was too dark to see their tracks in the snow; still, hoping that we might come up with them before we lost sight of our fire, we went on, until Dio stumbled over the trunk of a fallen tree, and I, knocking my head against a bough, was almost stunned. I heard Dio cry out, but I was too much hurt to reply. Boxer was close at my heels; he uttered a bark which brought the black to my assistance. In less than a minute I recovered.“We must go back to the fire,” I said, “for we shall be frozen if we remain long away from it.”Just at that moment, looking in the direction of our camp, I saw—unless I was deceived—two figures, on which a flickering flame cast an uncertain light, pass by on the other side of the fire. The alarming thought occurred to me, that we had come away without our rifles, and that, should the persons I fancied I had seen prove to be enemies, we were entirely in their power. On looking again, I could see no one. I told Dio, but he had not seen the figures. My first impulse was to rush forward, to ascertain if our rifles had been taken; then I thought, if hostile Indians are on the watch, they will shoot us down as soon as we appear within the light of the fire.“It will be more prudent to ascertain whether any enemies are near,” I whispered to Dio; “we will creep up, keeping as close as possible to the trunks of the trees, until we get nearer the fire, and learn what has happened.”We did as I proposed, Boxer keeping close to my heels. This was somewhat suspicious, as it showed that he, at all events, believed that Indians were not far off, he sharing the dislike of all white men’s dogs to the red-skins. We managed to creep up to within a short distance of our camp, without, as we supposed, exposing ourselves to view. When we looked round from behind the trunk of a tree which we had gained, we could see no one.“After all I believe that my fancy has deceived me,” I whispered to my companion; “probably the horses have only gone a short distance, to find more grass. We may as well go back and sleep quietly until morning.”We accordingly, without hesitation, returned to the camp. The first thing I did was to look about for the rifles; what was my dismay not to find them where I felt sure they had been left. Our saddle-bags, too, were gone. We walked round and round the fire, to be certain that we were not mistaken, but we could discover neither the one nor the other. We were now convinced that Indians must have visited our camp during our absence, and that our horses also had been carried off. The only surprising thing was, that they had not attacked us. Perhaps they only waited until we were seated before our fire to shoot us; they might suppose that we had pistols, and were afraid of venturing near while we were on the watch. My first impulse was to fly and try to escape, but in what direction should we go? Until daylight, we could not find our way out of the forest. We should in all probability fall into their hands. I never before felt my scalp fit so uncomfortably to my head. The thieves, whoever they were, had, however, left us our blankets, which perhaps had escaped their observation. To stay where we were, with the prospect of being shot, would be madness. Snatching up our blankets, therefore, we secured them over our shoulders, and, followed by Boxer, endeavoured to make our way through an opening, which as far as we could calculate, led towards the east. We went on groping our way, sometimes falling over logs, but managing again to recover our feet. It was better to keep moving than to sit down. Although the cold in the forest was much less than in the open prairie, it was still very severe, and we might very easily be frozen to death. Our chief consolation was, that day would soon return, and that we might at all events be able to see our way. We were still a long distance from the fort, and even should we ultimately reach it, the delay of sending medical assistance to my dear mother might be of serious consequence. Daylight at last returned, but not a break in the sky indicated that the snow was about to cease. It was important to keep under the shelter of the trees as long as we could. Should we venture after we got out of the forest to cross the open prairie without weapons to defend ourselves against enemies, or any means of obtaining food? Dio and I decided that it must be done at all risks; that on we would go as long as our legs would carry us. It was now broad daylight. We were making our way on, when we came to a stream, which flowing but slowly, had been frozen over during the night. As I knew the rivers in that locality ran more or less to the eastward, it would assist in guiding our course, but the appearance of the ice did not encourage us to use it as a high road. We settled therefore to keep along the bank, crossing it or cutting off angles as might appear advisable.“Before we go far, I tink we get arms,” said Dio; “dat saplin’ make good spear.” And taking out his axe, he cut down the young tree, while I formed a heavy club from a branch of hickory, which had been torn off apparently by a storm. If we had had time, we might have formed bows and arrows, but the cold was too great to allow us to do so, until we had put up a hut in which to work; besides, before they could be finished, we might starve with hunger. We therefore contented ourselves with the weapons we had formed, and Dio having scraped one end of his pole into a sharp point, we continued our journey.We had not gone far, when we discovered a hollow tree, and as we were very weary, besides being hungry, after examining it, to ascertain that it was unoccupied, we crawled in. We had not much fear of being attacked by the Indians, who, although they certainly could have followed our trail, would, we concluded, have made us prisoners or put us to death when they had us in their power, should they have been so disposed. The tribes of red-skins are not all equally blood-thirsty, some being addicted rather to stealing horses and cattle than to murdering the whites; and we had no doubt that such were the people who had carried off our horses and rifles. We therefore, squatting down in the confined space of the tree, folded our arms across our breasts, and immediately dropped off asleep. Weary as I was, my slumbers were troubled and far from sound. I did not intend to rest more than an hour at the utmost, as I was afraid of wasting too much precious time. Before that period had elapsed, I opened my eyes and awoke Dio. Looking out, I found that the snow had ceased. I could nowhere see Boxer. I called to him again and again, but he did not come.“He gone to de hunt for himself,” observed Dio; “perhaps he come back with young hare or ’possum.”We waited a few minutes. As I knew that Boxer would follow up the trail as well as any Indian could do, I did not think it necessary to wait for him. Scarcely had we recommenced our journey, when the well-known howl of a wolf reached my ears, repeated by several other brutes of the same species. Had we possessed our rifles, we should not have been afraid of a hundred of them, but, unarmed as we were, it would be difficult to defend ourselves against them, should they follow us. To retreat to the hollow tree would be useless, for although we might keep them at bay, should they besiege us, we might starve before we could regain our liberty. We therefore continued our course, hoping that they would not scent us out. The sounds of barking and yelping increased. It made me fear that Boxer had fallen into their power; if so, he would long ere this have been torn to pieces, and there would be no use in going to his rescue. We were close to the stream, when, on looking round, I saw an animal coming out of the wood on the opposite side. At first I thought it was my faithful dog, but a second glance showed me that it was a wolf—a savage looking brute it was too. The sight of one wolf however, did not give us the slightest alarm, and even if I had had my rifle in my hand, I would not have shot it. When we stopped, the wolf stopped and looked at us, but as soon as we went on again, I saw that it was following, though at a respectful distance.“Nebber fear; if he come near, I gib him poke with my spear,” said Dio; so on again we went.The howls which we had before heard, again broke out, and the brutes appeared to be coming nearer.“We must keep ahead of them at all events, Dio,” I observed; “if we cross the river, they are less likely to follow. Let us push on!”We reached the ice, which appearing firm, we ventured on it. As it bore our weight better than we expected, we could now run on at a quick pace. I led, Dio following close behind me.“Go on, massa! go on!” I heard him sing out continually.I kept verging towards the opposite side of the stream, where the ground was more open, and I hoped that we should make better progress. Presently I heard Dio utter an exclamation, and looking round, I saw a wolf close at his heels, while several more were following at a short distance. Should the brute once attack us, it would be the signal for the others to set on us.On the impulse of the moment, not thinking of what he was about, Dio took off his cap and threw it at the brute, which stopped, and quickly tearing it to pieces, came rushing on faster than before. Dio, now again turning round, pole in hand, stood ready for the attack, the next instant he plunged it into the wolf’s side, pinning the creature to the ice. Even then, so violent were its struggles, that it would have broken away, had I not come up and finished it with a blow of my club.“On now, massa! on!” cried Dio; “dey rest stop an’ eat their friend, and we get ’way.”This was obvious enough, and we set off running as fast as we could over the ice. Several loud cracks, however, warned us that it would be prudent to gain the shore as soon as possible, although we might not make our way so fast over it as we had been doing on the ice. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that the pack had attacked their comrade, and were busily employed in devouring his carcase. They would not, however, take long in doing that, and we might soon expect to have them at our heels. Hungry as we were, our strength was not exhausted, and we resolved not to give in while life remained. We might hope to reach some place where we could defend ourselves until the savage pack had grown weary of besieging it. We had gained a considerable distance, and were almost out of hearing of the yelping and barking, when again those horrid sounds began to draw near. The brutes had eaten up their companion, and were once more on our trail. How many miles we had run I could not tell, when we saw that the pack were rapidly gaining upon us, and that we should have to stop and fight for our lives. As I was expecting every instant that we should have to turn round and commence the battle, I saw a dark object on the ground, and at the same moment I heard a bark, uttered certainly not by a wolf. Presently a dog came rushing towards us whom I at once recognised as Boxer, holding a huge piece of meat in his mouth. Regardless of the wolves, he leapt up as if to offer it to us. A short distance off lay a buffalo bull, which probably had been shot by some hunter, and had there fallen down and died. Taking the meat, I threw it towards the wolves, then Dio, Boxer, and I continued our flight, passing close to the bull. We were saved from the imminent danger which had threatened us, for the wolves would certainly be delayed long enough over the carcase to enable us to make good our escape. I was rushing on, when Dio cried out—“Stop, massa, I git out some meat for our supper.”With his axe he quickly cut off a huge piece of the flesh. The morsel I had thrown to the wolves, had delayed them longer than I might have supposed. The brutes having stopped to quarrel over it, had furiously attacked each other, so that we were already a considerable distance beyond the buffalo before they reached it. So completely did it occupy their attention, that they no longer thought of us, and at length, when we from a distance looked back, we could see a tossing, moving mass of animals, their barks and yelps sounding faintly in our ears. Hungry as we were, I thought it prudent not to stop until we could reach some sheltered place where we could light a fire, and at the same time, defend ourselves, should any of the pack follow us. We had been saved from one danger, we might hope to escape others. The wind had fallen, though it still blew from the north, and the cold was severe. The exercise, however, kept us warm. We were again in open ground, but we could see the wood ahead, bordering the stream, an angle of which we had cut off. Continuing on, we once more gained the wood, and soon fixed on a spot for camping. Near it was a tree, the branches of which we could reach, so that should the wolves again come near us, we might climb up out of their reach. Collecting sticks, we soon had a fire lighted, and a part of our meat spitted and roasting before it. As we had lost our buffalo robes, it was absolutely necessary to form some sort of shelter, and while our supper was cooking, we began to collect materials for forming it. Well accustomed to such work, we did not take long about it. The necessary stakes were cut, the branches and pieces of bark collected, and by the time Dio pronounced the meat “done,” we had our hut up, resting against the trunk of a tree. Had we not been so busily employed, we could not have waited so long without food. Tough as was the meat, it greatly restored our strength, while we quenched our thirst with handfuls of snow. I had not before felt sleepy, but scarcely had I swallowed the food, than I became almost overpowered by drowsiness, and had just sense enough to crawl into the hut, when I dropped off to sleep.
Hitherto our community had enjoyed the most uninterrupted good health, no accidents had even occurred requiring more surgical skill than my father or uncle were able to afford. In this we were especially fortunate, for we knew of no doctor nearer than Fort Hamilton, and we could scarcely expect him to come in any ordinary case of illness. At length our dear mother began to ail, and her pale cheek and sunken eye showed that she was suffering greatly. One evening, towards the end of the year, the trees being already stripped of their leaves, Lily came to me.
“Our dear mother is, I fear, very, very ill,” she said; “I don’t think that your father is aware how serious her case is, and unless we can get a doctor to prescribe for her, I am afraid that she will die. I should be sorry to frighten you unnecessarily, Mike, but I am sure it is of the greatest importance that a medical man should see her without delay.”
“I am ready to set off this moment, and I will endeavour to bring back a doctor at all costs,” I answered.
“Do go, Mike,” she said; “and yet I fear that you may encounter dangers on the way, the journey is long, and the Indians are less peaceably disposed, it is reported, than they have been of late, but I pray that God will protect you, and I am sure that He will, when you are performing an act of duty.”
“Neither difficulties nor dangers shall prevent me from going, and I feel as you do, that it is most important our mother should have medical assistance. I am the fittest person to go, and I shall have no fears, knowing that you, dear Lily, are praying for me.”
“Remember too, Mike, that God will hear my prayers, and grant them too, as He has promised,” exclaimed Lily; “what an encouragement it is to know that He does hear faithful prayer, and never fails to attend to it.”
As may be supposed, this was not the whole of our conversation. When my father came in, I broke the subject to him; not wishing to alarm him more than necessary about my mother’s health, at the same time anxious to obtain his permission for going. He at first hesitated, as I expected that he would do, being more aware even than Lily was of the difficulties of such a journey at that season of the year, when at any time a snow-storm might come on and cover the ground many feet in depth. At last, however, when I told him what Lily had said, he consented. I had intended to go alone, trusting to my rifle for support, should I require more provisions than I could carry on my horse. As soon as I announced my intention of starting, Dio entreated that he might accompany me.
“I will keep up wid you, Massa Mike, however fast you may hab to go. Watch at night when you camp, and will remain by you while I have life, should you be attacked by Indians or grizzlies. Do let me go?” exclaimed the faithful fellow.
“I only hesitated, Dio, lest you might suffer from the weather, should the winter begin before we can get back,” I answered.
He thanked me when I consented, as much as if I had granted him a great favour. He at once proposed that, as the winds were already cold, we should put on our warm clothing, so as to be prepared for snow and frost, should it overtake us. As his advice was good, I of course agreed to follow it.
The next morning we were on foot before daybreak. My father had authorised me to offer a large fee to the surgeon, and he sent a message entreating the commandant to allow him to come, and promising to send him back under a strong escort if necessary.
Kathleen and Lily were up to get my breakfast and to see us off.
“May Heaven protect you, my boy, and bring you back in safety with the doctor,” said my father, as he wrung my hand.
Other farewells were said, and mounted on our favourite horses, with our rifles and pistols ready to our hands, our buffalo robes and blankets strapped behind us, and our haversacks filled with provisions and cooking utensils hung to our saddles, we set off. The increasing light enabled us to go at a good speed. We had got some distance from home, when looking round I saw that Boxer was following us. I ordered him to go back, but though always obedient, after stopping an instant, he came on again, and as he had volunteered to undergo the fatigues of the journey, I allowed him to come. As soon as I called him, he rushed forward, leaping and barking to show his delight, and then fell behind again, steadily making his way at the heels of our horses. With the first part of the country we were well acquainted, and as the weather promised to be fine, we hoped to make a rapid journey. We got over a good distance during the first day, and camped comfortably in the sheltered nook of a wood near a stream, where our horses could obtain plenty of grass. As it was important to husband our provisions, Dio, who had brought a fishing-line and hooks, fitted up a rod, and was fortunate enough to catch two fine cat-fish. The cat-fish, although its name is not attractive, is excellent when cooked. It has, indeed, a very fine flavour, is firm, white, and very rich. In appearance it is like a diminutive dolphin. It has double fins in addition to those on its back, and a long beard-like excrescence hangs from each side of its mouth. One was more than sufficient for our supper, but Boxer had no objection to eat the remainder. I was very glad my faithful dog had come, as he assisted to keep watch, and was not likely to allow any foe to approach the camp without giving us warning. Having built a lean-to, we arranged our beds, composed of twigs and leaves, of which there were abundance on the ground, and with our saddles for pillows and our feet to the fire, we rolled ourselves up in our blankets, feeling as comfortable as any people could do on feather beds. I, however, had not been long sleeping, when I was awakened by hearing Boxer barking furiously close to my ears. Starting up I saw a huge white animal, with glaring eyes, staring at us from a respectful distance. Boxer, though a brave dog, had apparently thought it prudent not to attack the creature without arousing me to be ready to assist him. Leaping to my feet, I instinctively seized my rifle, and, remembering the tricks played by Indians, my first idea was that it was an enemy covered up by a wolf-skin, trying to inspect our camp, and perhaps to steal our rifles and other property, should he have an opportunity. I then recollected that an Indian was much more likely to carry off our horses, and looking round I saw them feeding quietly at the spot where they had been left. They could not have seen the wolf, and the wolf could not have seen them. I was convinced, however, that the animal I had seen was really a wolf. On observing me move, huge as it was, it began to slink away, showing that it was alone, and had not the courage to attack a man and a dog. Though I could have knocked it over with my rifle, I did not think it worthy of powder and shot, but calling to Dio, I picked up a thick stick, that had served to poke up the fire, and ran forward. The creature now took the alarm, and bounded off at full speed, Boxer and I following close at its heels. The dog, exerting itself to the utmost, at last made a spring and fixed his teeth in the hind-quarters of the wolf, somewhat impeding its progress. This enabled me to get up and deal several hard blows on the creature’s head, one of which, given with more force, or better aim, brought it to the ground, and Dio coming up, we quickly deprived it of life. The skin, from the size of the animal and its rare colour, was of some value, but as we could not carry it with us, we hung it up to the branch of a tree, on the chance of finding it on our return, merely taking some of the flesh to reward Boxer for his vigilance and exertions.
“Dis not good ting to do, Massa Mike,” observed Dio, as we returned to camp; “maybe other wolves come, too many for us, when we sleep, and we find hard job to get away from them.”
“I don’t see why, because we have killed one white wolf, we are more likely to be attacked by the brown ones,” I answered; “had we let it escape, we might with more reason suppose that it would tell its fellows.”
Dio shook his head, but he let the subject drop, and once more, on reaching camp, we went to sleep, trusting to Boxer to call us if necessary, and as we could not take the wolf-skin, he benefited most by the adventure.
The night had been lovely, the stars were still shining brightly overhead when we awoke. Knowing that it was nearly morning, I proposed that we should breakfast and ride on. There was daylight sufficient to enable us to see our way. Boxer, not content with his plentiful supper, as soon as he saw us moving, started off in the direction of the dead wolf, and when we were on the point of mounting, reappeared with his mouth besmeared with blood, showing how he had been employed. From the way he moved on, I was afraid he had over-eaten himself; he, however, contrived to keep up with our horses. During the night there had not been a breath of wind, but as the sun rose, it began to blow fresh from the east, and soon shifted to the northward, from which quarter a bank of clouds rising rapidly, formed a dark canopy over the sky. On one side the sun shone brightly across the prairie, lighting up its vivid tints of green and brown and yellow, while on the other the whole country wore a wintry aspect. Every instant the wind became stronger and stronger, and the cold increased. Unbuckling our buffalo robes, we put them over our shoulders, drawing down the flaps of our caps to keep our ears warm. Before long it began to rain, but the rain soon changed into snow, which came down thicker and thicker, until, in the course of an hour, the whole face of the country was covered by a sheet of white, making it difficult to distinguish the marks which had hitherto guided our course.
“Dis not pleasant, Massa Mike,” observed Dio; “we must push on to a wood, for if de snow falls as it now does, before many hours de horses will not be able to travel through it.”
Dio was perfectly right, but the question was whether we could find the desired wood. From my knowledge of the country, I believed that no forest existed for many miles, the intermediate space being one extensive prairie, the very worst description of country to be caught in by a snow-storm. Still it would not do to pull up where we were, as we had no means of lighting a fire. We urged on our horses therefore, trying to keep as direct a course as possible. The snow, however, fell so thickly, that we could no longer discern objects at any distance. It was difficult, indeed, to steer a straight course, for the flakes quickly obliterated the tracks of our horses’ hoofs. We could only judge that we were going right by the wind, which blew on our left cheeks. That, however, veered about, coming in fitful gusts, and driving the snow against our eyes with a force that almost blinded us. Our horses, too, began to grow weary by their efforts to make their way through the snow, and I feared, after all, that we should have to dismount, and lead them on by the bridle. Still it would not do to give in.
“We must push forward, Dio, and perhaps the snow before long will cease,” I observed.
“Nebber fear, Massa Mike,” answered the faithful black whose teeth were chattering with the cold; “worse things dan dis happen ’fore now, and we got safe out of dem.”
I remembered, indeed, my many former providential escapes, and I had not forgotten that my dear little Lily was praying for us. Still matters looked worse and worse. The snow gave no sign of ceasing, while the wind blew more keenly and fiercely than before. The day, too, was drawing to a close. A night on the prairie under such circumstances would be truly dreadful. There was no moon, and with the sky obscured, should the snow continue to fall, we might even possibly become separated. I urged Dio to keep close to me, and I knew that Boxer would not fail to do so. We rode on and on, but our steeds went slower and slower, while the cold had become so intense that I feared we should be frozen if we continued to ride; I therefore, in the hopes of getting my blood into quicker circulation, by the exertion of walking, got off, as did Dio, and we led our horses. I went first, he following close behind me, and Boxer bringing up the rear. The snow had become so deep, that I had to lift up my feet at every step, making the exertion excessively fatiguing. Our horses went on readily enough. As I beat a path, Dio had somewhat less difficulty than I had. At last he begged that he might lead the way to relieve me, but this I would not allow. Severe as was the exercise, I still preferred it to riding. At last, our horses being somewhat rested, having brushed the snow from our saddles, we remounted and endeavoured to urge them on at a faster rate than we had lately been going. The snow suddenly ceased falling. I stood up in my stirrups to look round, in the hopes of distinguishing a wood in one direction or another where we might find shelter, but one uniform sheet of white covered the whole ground as far as the eye could see. Our great object was to keep in a straight line towards the east, but, as before, we had only the wind to guide us. Scarcely had we gone a hundred yards, when the snow again fell as thickly as ever. I felt the cold creeping over me. Poor Dio I knew must be suffering even more than I was, but not a word of complaint did he utter.
“Long lane, massa, dat hab no turnin’!” he cried out, trying to laugh. “Perhaps ’fore long we come to de wood where plenty of sticks, and we light fire, build hut, an’ de horses find grass, an’ we sit down warm and comfortable.”
“I shall be very thankful if we do,” I answered; “but it has become terribly dark. It will be a difficult matter to see a wood, even should we get near one.”
“Yes, Massa Mike, but de hosses find it out, even it we don’t,” answered Dio in a cheery tone; “what we best do is to let dem take dare own way; dey know what the wood is, dough we no see him.”
I followed Dio’s advice, but our horses showed no inclination to turn either to the right hand or to the left, but ploughed on through the snow, as though unwilling to remain exposed to it as we were; I took out my watch, but could scarcely see the hands, though I managed to make out that it was about five o’clock, and that the sun must have set; indeed, the rapidly increasing darkness assured me that in a short time night would overtake us. I soon could only barely distinguish the outline of my horse’s head against the white ground. I frequently spoke to Dio, for fear any accident should make him drop behind, when he might have a difficulty in finding me again.
“Do not lose sight of my horse’s tail, whatever you do,” I shouted out.
Dio promised to keep me in sight, but that was not so easy, though probably his horse would from instinct keep close behind mine. At last I could scarcely see my own hand when I held it up, and my horse’s ears were totally invisible. I had heard of travellers crossing the open prairie perishing in a snow-storm, and I began to fear that such might be our fate, but then I recollected Lily and my little sister. They were praying for us, and I took courage. Several times Dio and I got off to warm ourselves, but as I found on the whole that we made slower progress on foot than on horseback, we again remounted. I have since wondered how we could have endured the chilling breath of that piercing wind for so many hours. On and on we went, the time appeared longer indeed than it really was, but we had no means of calculating how it went by. Dio continued talking, both to assure me that he was close behind, and to keep up my spirits, though the idea of giving in as long as we and our horses had strength to move, never occurred to me. At length it seemed to me that my horse was verging to one side, as I felt the wind blowing in my teeth, more directly than it had hitherto done, then, after some time longer, a low murmuring sound reached my ears. It was, I fancied, the soughing of the wind among the branches of tall trees. Still I could see no object ahead. Next there came a lull, but the snow did not decrease. Presently I made out what seemed like a large column close to me, on the right hand side, then I saw another on the left. They were the trunks of trees, and from the irregular way the snow flakes fell, I was sure that we had gained the confines of the wood.
“We all right now, Massa Mike,” sang out Dio; “dis is de wood: we get off and build a hut under some of dese trees.”
On dismounting, as Dio proposed, I found that the snow was scarcely an inch deep. By creeping about we discovered a clump of trees, under the lee of which but little snow had rested. We could feel that there was grass, and were consequently sure that our horses would not stray from the spot. We therefore took off the saddles and saddle-bags, and, having put on their halters instead of their bridles, left them to feed, while we broke off, from the lower branches and bushes, a sufficient amount of dead wood to kindle a fire. It was somewhat doubtful, however, whether the wind would allow us to light it, or if we succeeded in doing so, whether it would scatter the sparks about, and perhaps ignite some of the underwood, so as to set the whole forest in a blaze. Against such a catastrophe as this we had especially to guard. The idea also occurred to me that possibly some old bear might have taken up its winter-quarters in the hollow trunk of one of the trees, but I was satisfied from Boxer’s quiet behaviour that such was not likely to be the case; he followed close at my heels wherever I went, and I knew that he would spring forward, should any savage animal be near, to do battle in my defence. Dio and I kept talking the whole time, that we might not run the risk of being separated. As I was groping about, I observed a luminous appearance, somewhat like the embers of a fire, though of a paler hue. It was a mass of touchwood in the hollow of a tree. I put my hand in and broke off a lump. Though it would not afford flame itself, it would enable us to kindle a blaze. Close below it I discovered a quantity of dry leaves, and we now had the means of making what we so much required, a fire to warm our benumbed limbs. No hunter in the prairies is ever without a flint and steel, and we soon had a cheerful fire, burning away between the roots of a thick tree, round which we crouched with our buffalo robes over our shoulders, Boxer joining us to enjoy the warmth. We had had no food since the morning, and as we began to grow warm our hunger also increased.
“Where are the saddle-bags?” I asked, thinking they were close at hand.
“I put dem down whar’ we unsaddled the horses—I go get dem,” said Dio. Jumping up he speedily returned with them, bringing also the saucepan and tin mugs, with a water-bottle which was still quite full, but he left the saddles, where they had been first placed on the ground. Our hunger made us immediately apply to the contents of the saddle-bags, while we put on our saucepan to brew some tea, which served more quickly than anything else to restore warmth to our bodies. Poor Boxer, however, came off but badly, as we could only afford to give him a small portion of the bacon and bread, being disappointed of the game we hoped to shoot to feed him. As to building a hut, besides the difficulty of obtaining materials, both Dio and I were so fatigued, that once having sat down we felt no inclination to move about more than was necessary. All we could do, indeed, was to collect a further supply of wood to keep up our fire. On looking at my watch I found that it wanted scarcely three hours to morning. I felt by this time an overpowering inclination to sleep, and Dio, I saw by the way he uttered his words, was affected in the same manner. As far as we could judge the snow continued to come down as heavily as before, but as we were protected by the thick overhanging limbs of the trees, very little fell on us. We could hear our horses cropping the grass, where we had tethered them, and we hoped they would obtain sufficient to enable them to continue the journey the next day. To keep awake any longer I found was impossible, so, drawing my blanket tightly round me, I lay down with my feet towards the fire, as near as I could venture to place them without fear of being burned. Dio was already asleep, and I dropped off immediately afterwards. I do not know how long it was after I had closed my eyes, when I became conscious that Boxer was crawling close to me, licking my face, trembling and whining in a peculiar manner. I was, however, so heavy with sleep, that I did not comprehend for some time the cause of this. Finding that he could not rouse me, he rushed across to Dio, whose voice I soon heard.
“Some ting de matter, Massa Mike. Wake up, wake up. Boxer know dat red-skin not far off.”
Boxer again came back to me and gave a pull at my blanket, which effectually awakened me.
“Red-skins!” I cried out, sitting up and listening. “I can hear nothing.”
“Boxer does dough,” answered Dio.
The fire had burnt low, a few glowing embers alone remained, insufficient to cast a light to any distance, I sprang up, intending to put some more wood on to kindle a blaze, when the sound of horses’ feet reached my ears. “Our animals have got loose at all events, and if we are not quick about it, we shall have a hard job to recover them,” I exclaimed.
Without a moment’s delay I dashed forward in the direction in which we had left the horses tethered, followed by Dio. They were both gone. If they had pulled up the tether-pegs, and we were under a mistake in supposing that Indians had carried them off, we might easily catch them in the morning. Should we follow them now, we might run the risk of losing ourselves, and indeed it was too dark to see their tracks in the snow; still, hoping that we might come up with them before we lost sight of our fire, we went on, until Dio stumbled over the trunk of a fallen tree, and I, knocking my head against a bough, was almost stunned. I heard Dio cry out, but I was too much hurt to reply. Boxer was close at my heels; he uttered a bark which brought the black to my assistance. In less than a minute I recovered.
“We must go back to the fire,” I said, “for we shall be frozen if we remain long away from it.”
Just at that moment, looking in the direction of our camp, I saw—unless I was deceived—two figures, on which a flickering flame cast an uncertain light, pass by on the other side of the fire. The alarming thought occurred to me, that we had come away without our rifles, and that, should the persons I fancied I had seen prove to be enemies, we were entirely in their power. On looking again, I could see no one. I told Dio, but he had not seen the figures. My first impulse was to rush forward, to ascertain if our rifles had been taken; then I thought, if hostile Indians are on the watch, they will shoot us down as soon as we appear within the light of the fire.
“It will be more prudent to ascertain whether any enemies are near,” I whispered to Dio; “we will creep up, keeping as close as possible to the trunks of the trees, until we get nearer the fire, and learn what has happened.”
We did as I proposed, Boxer keeping close to my heels. This was somewhat suspicious, as it showed that he, at all events, believed that Indians were not far off, he sharing the dislike of all white men’s dogs to the red-skins. We managed to creep up to within a short distance of our camp, without, as we supposed, exposing ourselves to view. When we looked round from behind the trunk of a tree which we had gained, we could see no one.
“After all I believe that my fancy has deceived me,” I whispered to my companion; “probably the horses have only gone a short distance, to find more grass. We may as well go back and sleep quietly until morning.”
We accordingly, without hesitation, returned to the camp. The first thing I did was to look about for the rifles; what was my dismay not to find them where I felt sure they had been left. Our saddle-bags, too, were gone. We walked round and round the fire, to be certain that we were not mistaken, but we could discover neither the one nor the other. We were now convinced that Indians must have visited our camp during our absence, and that our horses also had been carried off. The only surprising thing was, that they had not attacked us. Perhaps they only waited until we were seated before our fire to shoot us; they might suppose that we had pistols, and were afraid of venturing near while we were on the watch. My first impulse was to fly and try to escape, but in what direction should we go? Until daylight, we could not find our way out of the forest. We should in all probability fall into their hands. I never before felt my scalp fit so uncomfortably to my head. The thieves, whoever they were, had, however, left us our blankets, which perhaps had escaped their observation. To stay where we were, with the prospect of being shot, would be madness. Snatching up our blankets, therefore, we secured them over our shoulders, and, followed by Boxer, endeavoured to make our way through an opening, which as far as we could calculate, led towards the east. We went on groping our way, sometimes falling over logs, but managing again to recover our feet. It was better to keep moving than to sit down. Although the cold in the forest was much less than in the open prairie, it was still very severe, and we might very easily be frozen to death. Our chief consolation was, that day would soon return, and that we might at all events be able to see our way. We were still a long distance from the fort, and even should we ultimately reach it, the delay of sending medical assistance to my dear mother might be of serious consequence. Daylight at last returned, but not a break in the sky indicated that the snow was about to cease. It was important to keep under the shelter of the trees as long as we could. Should we venture after we got out of the forest to cross the open prairie without weapons to defend ourselves against enemies, or any means of obtaining food? Dio and I decided that it must be done at all risks; that on we would go as long as our legs would carry us. It was now broad daylight. We were making our way on, when we came to a stream, which flowing but slowly, had been frozen over during the night. As I knew the rivers in that locality ran more or less to the eastward, it would assist in guiding our course, but the appearance of the ice did not encourage us to use it as a high road. We settled therefore to keep along the bank, crossing it or cutting off angles as might appear advisable.
“Before we go far, I tink we get arms,” said Dio; “dat saplin’ make good spear.” And taking out his axe, he cut down the young tree, while I formed a heavy club from a branch of hickory, which had been torn off apparently by a storm. If we had had time, we might have formed bows and arrows, but the cold was too great to allow us to do so, until we had put up a hut in which to work; besides, before they could be finished, we might starve with hunger. We therefore contented ourselves with the weapons we had formed, and Dio having scraped one end of his pole into a sharp point, we continued our journey.
We had not gone far, when we discovered a hollow tree, and as we were very weary, besides being hungry, after examining it, to ascertain that it was unoccupied, we crawled in. We had not much fear of being attacked by the Indians, who, although they certainly could have followed our trail, would, we concluded, have made us prisoners or put us to death when they had us in their power, should they have been so disposed. The tribes of red-skins are not all equally blood-thirsty, some being addicted rather to stealing horses and cattle than to murdering the whites; and we had no doubt that such were the people who had carried off our horses and rifles. We therefore, squatting down in the confined space of the tree, folded our arms across our breasts, and immediately dropped off asleep. Weary as I was, my slumbers were troubled and far from sound. I did not intend to rest more than an hour at the utmost, as I was afraid of wasting too much precious time. Before that period had elapsed, I opened my eyes and awoke Dio. Looking out, I found that the snow had ceased. I could nowhere see Boxer. I called to him again and again, but he did not come.
“He gone to de hunt for himself,” observed Dio; “perhaps he come back with young hare or ’possum.”
We waited a few minutes. As I knew that Boxer would follow up the trail as well as any Indian could do, I did not think it necessary to wait for him. Scarcely had we recommenced our journey, when the well-known howl of a wolf reached my ears, repeated by several other brutes of the same species. Had we possessed our rifles, we should not have been afraid of a hundred of them, but, unarmed as we were, it would be difficult to defend ourselves against them, should they follow us. To retreat to the hollow tree would be useless, for although we might keep them at bay, should they besiege us, we might starve before we could regain our liberty. We therefore continued our course, hoping that they would not scent us out. The sounds of barking and yelping increased. It made me fear that Boxer had fallen into their power; if so, he would long ere this have been torn to pieces, and there would be no use in going to his rescue. We were close to the stream, when, on looking round, I saw an animal coming out of the wood on the opposite side. At first I thought it was my faithful dog, but a second glance showed me that it was a wolf—a savage looking brute it was too. The sight of one wolf however, did not give us the slightest alarm, and even if I had had my rifle in my hand, I would not have shot it. When we stopped, the wolf stopped and looked at us, but as soon as we went on again, I saw that it was following, though at a respectful distance.
“Nebber fear; if he come near, I gib him poke with my spear,” said Dio; so on again we went.
The howls which we had before heard, again broke out, and the brutes appeared to be coming nearer.
“We must keep ahead of them at all events, Dio,” I observed; “if we cross the river, they are less likely to follow. Let us push on!”
We reached the ice, which appearing firm, we ventured on it. As it bore our weight better than we expected, we could now run on at a quick pace. I led, Dio following close behind me.
“Go on, massa! go on!” I heard him sing out continually.
I kept verging towards the opposite side of the stream, where the ground was more open, and I hoped that we should make better progress. Presently I heard Dio utter an exclamation, and looking round, I saw a wolf close at his heels, while several more were following at a short distance. Should the brute once attack us, it would be the signal for the others to set on us.
On the impulse of the moment, not thinking of what he was about, Dio took off his cap and threw it at the brute, which stopped, and quickly tearing it to pieces, came rushing on faster than before. Dio, now again turning round, pole in hand, stood ready for the attack, the next instant he plunged it into the wolf’s side, pinning the creature to the ice. Even then, so violent were its struggles, that it would have broken away, had I not come up and finished it with a blow of my club.
“On now, massa! on!” cried Dio; “dey rest stop an’ eat their friend, and we get ’way.”
This was obvious enough, and we set off running as fast as we could over the ice. Several loud cracks, however, warned us that it would be prudent to gain the shore as soon as possible, although we might not make our way so fast over it as we had been doing on the ice. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that the pack had attacked their comrade, and were busily employed in devouring his carcase. They would not, however, take long in doing that, and we might soon expect to have them at our heels. Hungry as we were, our strength was not exhausted, and we resolved not to give in while life remained. We might hope to reach some place where we could defend ourselves until the savage pack had grown weary of besieging it. We had gained a considerable distance, and were almost out of hearing of the yelping and barking, when again those horrid sounds began to draw near. The brutes had eaten up their companion, and were once more on our trail. How many miles we had run I could not tell, when we saw that the pack were rapidly gaining upon us, and that we should have to stop and fight for our lives. As I was expecting every instant that we should have to turn round and commence the battle, I saw a dark object on the ground, and at the same moment I heard a bark, uttered certainly not by a wolf. Presently a dog came rushing towards us whom I at once recognised as Boxer, holding a huge piece of meat in his mouth. Regardless of the wolves, he leapt up as if to offer it to us. A short distance off lay a buffalo bull, which probably had been shot by some hunter, and had there fallen down and died. Taking the meat, I threw it towards the wolves, then Dio, Boxer, and I continued our flight, passing close to the bull. We were saved from the imminent danger which had threatened us, for the wolves would certainly be delayed long enough over the carcase to enable us to make good our escape. I was rushing on, when Dio cried out—
“Stop, massa, I git out some meat for our supper.”
With his axe he quickly cut off a huge piece of the flesh. The morsel I had thrown to the wolves, had delayed them longer than I might have supposed. The brutes having stopped to quarrel over it, had furiously attacked each other, so that we were already a considerable distance beyond the buffalo before they reached it. So completely did it occupy their attention, that they no longer thought of us, and at length, when we from a distance looked back, we could see a tossing, moving mass of animals, their barks and yelps sounding faintly in our ears. Hungry as we were, I thought it prudent not to stop until we could reach some sheltered place where we could light a fire, and at the same time, defend ourselves, should any of the pack follow us. We had been saved from one danger, we might hope to escape others. The wind had fallen, though it still blew from the north, and the cold was severe. The exercise, however, kept us warm. We were again in open ground, but we could see the wood ahead, bordering the stream, an angle of which we had cut off. Continuing on, we once more gained the wood, and soon fixed on a spot for camping. Near it was a tree, the branches of which we could reach, so that should the wolves again come near us, we might climb up out of their reach. Collecting sticks, we soon had a fire lighted, and a part of our meat spitted and roasting before it. As we had lost our buffalo robes, it was absolutely necessary to form some sort of shelter, and while our supper was cooking, we began to collect materials for forming it. Well accustomed to such work, we did not take long about it. The necessary stakes were cut, the branches and pieces of bark collected, and by the time Dio pronounced the meat “done,” we had our hut up, resting against the trunk of a tree. Had we not been so busily employed, we could not have waited so long without food. Tough as was the meat, it greatly restored our strength, while we quenched our thirst with handfuls of snow. I had not before felt sleepy, but scarcely had I swallowed the food, than I became almost overpowered by drowsiness, and had just sense enough to crawl into the hut, when I dropped off to sleep.