evening meditations and morning reflections--buffaloes, badgers,antelopes, and accidents--an old bull and the wolves--"madtails"--henri floored, etc.
there is nothing that prepares one so well for theenjoyment of rest, both mental and physical, as along-protracted period of excitement and anxiety, followedup by bodily fatigue. excitement alone banishesrest; but, united with severe physical exertion, it preparesfor it. at least, courteous reader, this is ourexperience; and certainly this was the experience of ourthree hunters as they lay on their backs beneath thebranches of a willow bush and gazed serenely up at thetwinkling stars two days after their escape from theindian village.
they spoke little; they were too tired for that, alsothey were too comfortable. their respective suppers offresh antelope steak, shot that day, had just been disposedof. their feet were directed towards the smallfire on which the said steaks had been cooked, andwhich still threw a warm, ruddy glow over the encampment.
their blankets were wrapped comfortably roundthem, and tucked in as only hunters and mothers knowhow to tuck them in. their respective pipes deliveredforth, at stated intervals, three richly yellow puffs ofsmoke, as if a three-gun battery were playing upon thesky from that particular spot of earth. the horseswere picketed and hobbled in a rich grassy bottom closeby, from which the quiet munch of their equine jawssounded pleasantly, for it told of healthy appetites,and promised speed on the morrow. the fear of beingovertaken during the night was now past, and thefaithful crusoe, by virtue of sight, hearing, and smell,guaranteed them against sudden attack during the hoursof slumber. a perfume of wild flowers mingled withthe loved odours of the "weed," and the tinkle of atiny rivulet fell sweetly on their ears. in short, the"pale-faces" were supremely happy, and disposed to bethankful for their recent deliverance and their presentcomforts.
"i wonder what the stars are," said dick, languidlytaking the pipe out of his mouth.
"bits o' fire," suggested joe.
"i tink dey are vorlds," muttered henri, "an' havepeepels in dem. i have hear men say dat."a long silence followed, during which, no doubt, thestar-gazers were working out various theories in theirown minds.
"wonder," said dick again, "how far off they be.""a mile or two, maybe," said joe.
henri was about to laugh sarcastically at this, buton further consideration he thought it would be morecomfortable not to, so he lay still. in another minutehe said,--"joe blunt, you is ver' igrant. don't you know datde books say de stars be hondreds, tousands--oh!
milleryons of mile away to here, and dat dey is morebigger dan dis vorld?"joe snored lightly, and his pipe fell out of hismouth at this point, so the conversation dropped.
presently dick asked in a low tone, "i say, henri,are ye asleep?""oui," replied henry faintly. "don't speak, or youvill vaken me.""ah, crusoe! you're not asleep, are you, pup?" noneed to ask that question. the instantaneous wag ofthat speaking tail and the glance of that wakeful eye,as the dog lifted his head and laid his chin on dick'sarm, showed that he had been listening to every wordthat was spoken. we cannot say whether he understoodit, but beyond all doubt he heard it. crusoenever presumed to think of going to sleep until hismaster was as sound as a top, then he ventured to indulgein that light species of slumber which is familiarly knownas "sleeping with one eye open." but, comparatively aswell as figuratively speaking, crusoe slept usually withone eye and a half open, and the other half was neververy tightly shut.
gradually dick's pipe fell out of his mouth, anevent which the dog, with an exercise of instinct almost,if not quite, amounting to reason, regarded as asignal for him to go off. the camp fire went slowlyout, the stars twinkled down at their reflections in thebrook, and a deep breathing of wearied men was theonly sound that rose in harmony with the purlingstream.
before the sun rose next morning, and while many ofthe brighter stars were still struggling for existencewith the approaching day, joe was up and buckling onthe saddle-bags, while he shouted to his unwilling companionsto rise.
"if it depended on you," he said, "the pawneeswouldn't be long afore they got our scalps. jump, yedogs, an' lend a hand, will ye?"a snore from dick and a deep sigh from henri wasthe answer to this pathetic appeal. it so happened,however, that henri's pipe, in falling from his lips, hademptied the ashes just under his nose, so that the sighreferred to drew a quantity thereof into his throat andalmost choked him. nothing could have been a moreeffective awakener. he was up in a moment coughingvociferously. most men have a tendency to vent ill-humouron some one, and they generally do it on onewhom they deem to be worse than themselves. henri,therefore, instead of growling at joe for rousing him,scolded dick for not rising.
"ha, mauvais dog! bad chien! vill you dare to lookto me?"crusoe did look with amiable placidity, as though tosay, "howl away, old boy, i won't budge till dick does."with a mighty effort giant sleep was thrown off atlast, and the hunters were once more on their journey,cantering lightly over the soft turf.
"ho, let's have a run!" cried dick, unable to repressthe feelings aroused by the exhilarating morning air.
"have a care, boy," cried joe, as they stretched outat full gallop. "keep off the ridge; it's riddled wi'
badger--ha! i thought so."at that moment dick's horse put its foot into abadger-hole and turned completely over, sending itsrider through the air in a curve that an east indianacrobat would have envied. for a few seconds dicklay flat on his back, then he jumped up and laughed,while his comrades hurried up anxiously to his assistance.
"no bones broke?" inquired joe.
dick gave a hysterical gasp. "i--i think not.""let's have a look. no, nothin' to speak o', begood luck. ye should niver go slap through a badgercountry like that, boy; always keep i' the bottoms, wherethe grass is short. now then, up ye go. that's it!"dick remounted, though not with quite so elastic aspring as usual, and they pushed forward at a morereasonable pace.
accidents of this kind are of common occurrence inthe prairies. some horses, however, are so well trainedthat they look sharp out for these holes, which are generallyfound to be most numerous on the high and drygrounds. but in spite of all the caution both of manand horse many ugly falls take place, and sometimesbones are broken.
they had not gone far after this accident when anantelope leaped from a clump of willows, and made fora belt of woodland that lay along the margin of a streamnot half-a-mile off.
"hurrah!" cried dick, forgetting his recent fall.
"come along, crusoe." and away they went againfull tilt, for the horse had not been injured by itssomersault.
the antelope which dick was thus wildly pursuingwas of the same species as the one he had shot sometime before--namely, the prong-horned antelope. thesegraceful creatures have long, slender limbs, delicately-formedheads, and large, beautiful eyes. the horns areblack, and rather short; they have no branches, likethe antlers of the red-deer, but have a single projectionon each horn, near the head, and the extreme pointsof the horns curve suddenly inwards, forming thehook or prong from which the name of the animalis derived. their colour is dark yellowish brown.
they are so fleet that not one horse in a hundredcan overtake them; and their sight and sense of smellare so acute that it would be next to impossible to killthem, were it not for the inordinate curiosity whichwe have before referred to. the indians manage toattract these simple little creatures by merely lyingdown on their backs and kicking their heels in the air,or by waving any white object on the point of an arrow,while the hunter keeps concealed by lying flat in thegrass. by these means a herd of antelopes may beinduced to wheel round and round an object in timidbut intense surprise, gradually approaching until theycome near enough to enable the hunter to make sure ofhis mark. thus the animals, which of all others oughtto be the most difficult to slay, are, in consequence oftheir insatiable curiosity, more easily shot than any otherdeer of the plains.
may we not gently suggest to the reader for his orher consideration that there are human antelopes, so tospeak, whose case bears a striking resemblance to theprong-horn of the north american prairie?
dick's horse was no match for the antelope, neitherwas crusoe; so they pulled up shortly and returned totheir companions, to be laughed at.
"it's no manner o' use to wind yer horse, lad, aftersich game. they're not much worth, an', if i mistakenot, we'll be among the buffalo soon. there's freshtracks everywhere, and the herds are scattered now. yesee, when they keep together in bands o' thousands yedon't so often fall in wi' them. but when they scattersabout in twos, an' threes, an' sixes ye may shoot themevery day as much as ye please."several groups of buffalo had already been seen onthe horizon, but as a red-deer had been shot in a beltof woodland the day before they did not pursue them.
the red-deer is very much larger than the prong-hornedantelope, and is highly esteemed both for its flesh andits skin, which latter becomes almost like chamoisleather when dressed. notwithstanding this supply offood, the hunters could not resist the temptation to givechase to a herd of about nine buffaloes that suddenlycame into view as they overtopped an undulation in theplain.
"it's no use," cried dick, "i must go at them!"joe himself caught fire from the spirit of his youngfriend, so calling to henri to come on and let the pack-horseremain to feed, he dashed away in pursuit. thebuffaloes gave one stare of surprise, and then fled as fastas possible. at first it seemed as if such huge, unwieldycarcasses could not run very fast; but in a fewminutes they managed to get up a pace that put thehorses to their mettle. indeed, at first it seemed as ifthe hunters did not gain an inch; but by degrees theyclosed with them, for buffaloes are not long winded.
on nearing the herd, the three men diverged fromeach other and selected their animals. henri, beingshort-sighted, naturally singled out the largest; and thelargest--also naturally--was a tough old bull. joebrought down a fat young cow at the first shot, anddick was equally fortunate. but he well-nigh shotcrusoe, who, just as he was about to fire, rushed in unexpectedlyand sprang at the animal's throat, for whichpiece of recklessness he was ordered back to watch thepack-horse.
meanwhile, henri, by dint of yelling, throwing hisarms wildly about, and digging his heels into the sidesof his long-legged horse, succeeded in coming close upwith the bull, which once or twice turned his clumsybody half round and glared furiously at its pursuerwith its small black eyes. suddenly it stuck out itstail, stopped short, and turned full round. henri stoppedshort also. now, the sticking out of a buffalo's tail hasa peculiar significance which it is well to point out. itserves, in a sense, the same purpose to the hunter thatthe compass does to the mariner--it points out where togo and what to do. when galloping away in ordinaryflight, the buffalo carries his tail like ordinary cattle,which indicates that you may push on. when wounded,he lashes it from side to side, or carries it over his back,up in the air; this indicates, "look out! haul off abit!" but when he carries it stiff and horizontal, witha slight curve in the middle of it, it says plainly, "keepback, or kill me as quick as you can," for that is whatindians call the mad tail, and is a sign that mischief isbrewing.
henri's bull displayed the mad tail just before turning,but he didn't observe it, and, accordingly, waited for thebull to move and show his shoulder for a favourableshot. but instead of doing this he put his head down,and, foaming with rage, went at him full tilt. the bighorse never stirred; it seemed to be petrified, henrihad just time to fire at the monster's neck, and the nextmoment was sprawling on his back, with the horse rollingover four or five yards beyond him. it was a mosteffective tableau--henri rubbing his shins and grinningwith pain, the horse gazing in affright as he rose tremblingfrom the plain, and the buffalo bull looking onhalf stunned, and evidently very much surprised at theresult of his charge.
fortunately, before he could repeat the experiment,dick galloped up and put a ball through his heart.
joe and his comrades felt a little ashamed of theirexploit on this occasion, for there was no need to havekilled three animals--they could not have carried withthem more than a small portion of one--and they upbraidedthemselves several times during the operation ofcutting out the tongues and other choice portions of thetwo victims. as for the bull, he was almost totallyuseless, so they left him as a gift to the wolves.
now that they had come among the buffalo, wolveswere often seen sneaking about and licking their hungryjaws; but although they approached pretty near to thecamp at nights, they did not give the hunters any concern.
even crusoe became accustomed to them at last,and ceased to notice them. these creatures are verydangerous sometimes, however, and when hard pressedby hunger will even attack man. the day after thishunt the travellers came upon a wounded old buffalowhich had evidently escaped from the indians (for acouple of arrows were sticking in its side), only to falla prey to his deadly enemies, the white wolves. thesesavage brutes hang on the skirts of the herds of buffaloesto attack and devour any one that may chance, fromold age or from being wounded, to linger behind the rest.
the buffalo is tough and fierce, however, and fights sodesperately that, although surrounded by fifty or ahundred wolves, he keeps up the unequal combat forseveral days before he finally succumbs.
the old bull that our travellers discovered had evidentlybeen long engaged with his ferocious adversaries,for his limbs and flesh were torn in shreds inmany places, and blood was streaming from his sides.
yet he had fought so gallantly that he had tossed andstamped to death dozens of the enemy. there couldnot have been fewer than fifty wolves round him; andthey had just concluded another of many futile attackswhen the hunters came up, for they were ranged in acircle round their huge adversary--some lying down,some sitting on their haunches to rest, and others sneakingabout, lolling out their red tongues and licking theirchops as if impatient to renew the combat. the poorbuffalo was nearly spent, and it was clear that a fewhours more would see him torn to shreds and his bonespicked clean.
"ugh! de brutes," ejaculated henri.
"they don't seem to mind us a bit," remarked dick,as they rode up to within pistol shot.
"it'll be merciful to give the old fellow a shot," saidjoe. "them varmints are sure to finish him at last."joe raised his rifle as he spoke, and fired. the oldbull gave his last groan and fell, while the wolves,alarmed by the shot, fled in all directions; but they didnot run far. they knew well that some portion, atleast, of the carcass would fall to their share; so theysat down at various distances all round, to wait aspatiently as they might for the hunters to retire. dickleft the scene with a feeling of regret that the villanouswolves should have their feast so much sooner than theyexpected.
yet, after all, why should we call these wolves villanous?
they did nothing wrong--nothing contrary tothe laws of their peculiar nature. nay, if we come toreason upon it, they rank higher in this matter thanman; for while the wolf does no violence to the laws ofits instincts, man often deliberately silences the voice ofconscience, and violates the laws of his own nature.
but we will not insist on the term, good reader, if youobject strongly to it. we are willing to admit that thewolves are not villanous, but, assuredly, they areunlovable.
in the course of the afternoon the three horsemenreached a small creek, the banks of which were linedwith a few stunted shrubs and trees. having eatennothing since the night before, they dismounted here to"feed," as joe expressed it.
"cur'ous thing," remarked joe, as he struck a lightby means of flint, steel, and tinder-box--"cur'ous thingthat we're made to need sich a lot o' grub. if we couldonly get on like the sarpints, now, wot can breakfast ona rabbit, and then wait a month or two for dinner!
ain't it cur'ous?"dick admitted that it was, and stooped to blow thefire into a blaze.
here henri uttered a cry of consternation, and stoodspeechless, with his mouth open.
"what's the matter? what is't?" cried dick and joe,seizing their rifles instinctively.
"de--grub--him--be--forgat!"there was a look of blank horror, and then a burstof laughter from dick varley. "well, well," cried he,"we've got lots o' tea an' sugar, an' some flour; we cangit on wi' that till we shoot another buffalo, or a--ha!"dick observed a wild turkey stalking among thewillows as he spoke. it was fully a hundred yards off,and only its head was seen above the leaves. this wasa matter of little moment, however, for by aiming alittle lower he knew that he must hit the body. butdick had driven the nail too often to aim at its body;he aimed at the bird's eye, and cut its head off.
"fetch it, crusoe."in three minutes it was at dick's feet, and it is nottoo much to say that in five minutes more it was in thepot.
as this unexpected supply made up for the loss of themeat which henri had forgotten at their last halting-place,their equanimity was restored; and while the mealwas in preparation dick shouldered his rifle and wentinto the bush to try for another turkey. he did notget one, however, but he shot a couple of prairie-hens,which are excellent eating. moreover, he found a largequantity of wild grapes and plums. these were unfortunatelynot nearly ripe, but dick resolved to try hishand at a new dish, so he stuffed the breast of his coatfull of them.
after the pot was emptied, dick washed it out, andput a little clean water in it. then he poured someflour in, and stirred it well. while this was heating, hesqueezed the sour grapes and plums into what joecalled a "mush," mixed it with a spoonful of sugar, andemptied it into the pot. he also skimmed a quantityof the fat from the remains of the turkey soup andadded that to the mess, which he stirred with earnestdiligence till it boiled down into a sort of thick porridge.
"d'ye think it'll be good?" asked joe gravely; "i'veme doubts of it.""we'll see.--hold the tin dish, henri.""take care of de fingers. ha! it looks magnifique--superb!"the first spoonful produced an expression on henri'sface that needed not to be interpreted. it was as souras vinegar.
"ye'll ha' to eat it yerself, dick, lad," cried joe,throwing down his spoon, and spitting out the unsavourymess.
"nonsense," cried dick, bolting two or three mouthfuls,and trying to look as if he liked it. "try again;it's not so bad as you think.""ho-o-o-o-o!" cried henri, after the second mouthful.
"tis vinégre. all de sugare in de pack would notmake more sweeter one bite of it."dick was obliged to confess the dish a failure, so itwas thrown out after having been offered to crusoe,who gave it one sniff and turned away in silence. thenthey mounted and resumed their journey.
at this place mosquitoes and horse-flies troubled ourhunters and their steeds a good deal. the latter especiallywere very annoying to the poor horses. they bitthem so much that the blood at last came tricklingdown their sides. they were troubled also, once ortwice, by cockchafers and locusts, which annoyed them,not indeed by biting, but by flying blindly against theirfaces, and often-narrowly missed hitting them in theeyes. once particularly they were so bad that henriin his wrath opened his lips to pronounce a maledictionon the whole race, when a cockchafer flew straight intohis mouth, and, to use his own forcible expression,"nearly knocked him off de hoss." but these wereminor evils, and scarcely cost the hunters a thought.
