wolves attack the horses, and cameron circumvents thewolves--a bear-hunt, in which henri shinesconspicuous--joe and the "natter-list"--analarm--a surprise and a capture.
we must now return to the camp where waltercameron still guarded the goods, and the menpursued their trapping avocations.
here seven of the horses had been killed in one nightby wolves while grazing in a plain close to the camp,and on the night following a horse that had strayedwas also torn to pieces and devoured. the prompt anddaring manner in which this had been done convincedthe trader that white wolves had unfortunately scentedthem out, and he set several traps in the hope of capturingthem.
white wolves are quite distinct from the ordinarywolves that prowl through woods and plains in largepacks. they are much larger, weighing sometimes asmuch as a hundred and thirty pounds; but they arecomparatively scarce, and move about alone, or in smallbands of three or four. their strength is enormous,and they are so fierce that they do not hesitate, uponoccasions, to attack man himself. their method ofkilling horses is very deliberate. two wolves generallyundertake the cold-blooded murder. they approachtheir victim with the most innocent-looking and frolicsomegambols, lying down and rolling about, andfrisking presently, until the horse becomes a littleaccustomed to them. then one approaches right infront, the other in rear, still frisking playfully, untilthey think themselves near enough, when they makea simultaneous rush. the wolf which approaches inrear is the true assailant; the rush of the other is amere feint. then both fasten on the poor horse'shaunches, and never let go till the sinews are cut andhe is rolling on his side.
the horse makes comparatively little struggle inthis deadly assault; he seems paralyzed, and soon fallsto rise no more.
cameron set his traps towards evening in a circlewith a bait in the centre, and then retired to rest.
next morning he called joe blunt, and the two wentoff together.
"it is strange that these rascally white wolves shouldbe so bold when the smaller kinds are so cowardly,"remarked cameron, as they walked along.
"so 'tis," replied joe; "but i've seed them otherchaps bold enough too in the prairie when they werein large packs and starvin'.""i believe the small wolves follow the big fellows,and help them to eat what they kill, though theygenerally sit round and look on at the killing.""hist!" exclaimed joe, cocking his gun; "there heis, an' no mistake."there he was, undoubtedly. a wolf of the largestsize with one of his feet in the trap. he was a terrible-lookingobject, for, besides his immense size and naturallyferocious aspect, his white hair bristled on end andwas all covered with streaks and spots of blood fromhis bloody jaws. in his efforts to escape he had bittenthe trap until he had broken his teeth and lacerated hisgums, so that his appearance was hideous in the extreme.
and when the two men came up he struggled with allhis might to fly at them.
cameron and joe stood looking at him in a sort ofwondering admiration.
"we'd better put a ball in him," suggested joe aftera time. "mayhap the chain won't stand sich tugs long.""true, joe; if it break, we might get an ugly nipbefore we killed him."so saying cameron fired into the wolf's head andkilled it. it was found, on examination, that fourwolves had been in the traps, but the rest had escaped.
two of them, however, had gnawed off their paws andleft them lying in the traps.
after this the big wolves did not trouble them again.
the same afternoon a bear-hunt was undertaken, whichwell-nigh cost one of the iroquois his life. it happenedthus:--while cameron and joe were away after the whitewolves, henri came floundering into camp tossing hisarms like a maniac, and shouting that "seven bars wosbe down in de bush close by!" it chanced that thiswas an idle day with most of the men, so they all leapedon their horses, and taking guns and knives sallied forthto give battle to the bears.
arrived at the scene of action, they found the sevenbears busily engaged in digging up roots, so the menseparated in order to surround them, and then closed in.
the place was partly open and partly covered withthick bushes into which a horseman could not penetrate.
the moment the bears got wind of what was goingforward they made off as fast as possible, and then commenceda scene of firing, galloping, and yelling thatdefies description! four out of the seven were shotbefore they gained the bushes; the other three werewounded, but made good their retreat. as their placesof shelter, however, were like islands in the plain, theyhad no chance of escaping.
the horsemen now dismounted and dashed recklesslyinto the bushes, where they soon discovered and killedtwo of the bears; the third was not found for sometime. at last an iroquois came upon it so suddenlythat he had not time to point his gun before the bearsprang upon him and struck him to the earth, where itheld him down.
instantly the place was surrounded by eager men; butthe bushes were so thick, and the fallen trees amongwhich the bear stood were so numerous, that they couldnot use their guns without running the risk of shootingtheir companion. most of them drew their knives andseemed about to rush on the bear with these; but themonster's aspect, as it glared around, was so terrible thatthey held back for a moment in hesitation.
at this moment henri, who had been at some distanceengaged in the killing of one of the other bears, camerushing forward after his own peculiar manner.
"ah! fat is eet--hay? de bar no go under yit?"just then his eye fell on the wounded iroquois withthe bear above him, and he uttered a yell so intense intone that the bear himself seemed to feel that somethingdecisive was about to be done at last. henridid not pause, but with a flying dash he sprang like aspread eagle, arms and legs extended, right into thebear's bosom. at the same moment he sent his longhunting-knife down into its heart. but bruin is proverbiallyhard to kill, and although mortally wounded,he had strength enough to open his jaws and close themon henri's neck.
there was a cry of horror, and at the same momenta volley was fired at the bear's head; for the trappersfelt that it was better to risk shooting their comradesthan see them killed before their eyes. fortunatelythe bullets took effect, and tumbled him over at oncewithout doing damage to either of the men, althoughseveral of the balls just grazed henri's temple andcarried off his cap.
although uninjured by the shot, the poor iroquoishad not escaped scathless from the paw of the bear.
his scalp was torn almost off, and hung down over hiseyes, while blood streamed down his face. he wasconveyed by his comrades to the camp, where he laytwo days in a state of insensibility, at the end of whichtime he revived and recovered daily. afterwards whenthe camp moved he had to be carried; but in the courseof two months he was as well as ever, and quite as fondof bear-hunting!
among other trophies of this hunt there were twodeer and a buffalo, which last had probably strayed fromthe herd. four or five iroquois were round this animalwhetting their knives for the purpose of cutting it upwhen henri passed, so he turned aside to watch themperform the operation, quite regardless of the fact thathis neck and face were covered with blood which flowedfrom one or two small punctures made by the bear.
the indians began by taking off the skin, whichcertainly did not occupy them more than five minutes.
then they cut up the meat and made a pack of it, andcut out the tongue, which is somewhat troublesome, asthat member requires to be cut out from under the jawof the animal, and not through the natural opening ofthe mouth. one of the fore legs was cut off at theknee joint, and this was used as a hammer with whichto break the skull for the purpose of taking out thebrains, these being used in the process of dressing andsoftening the animal's skin. an axe would have beenof advantage to break the skull, but in the hurry ofrushing to the attack the indians had forgotten theiraxes; so they adopted the common fashion of using thebuffalo's hoof as a hammer, the shank being the handle.
the whole operation of flaying, cutting up, and packingthe meat did not occupy more than twenty minutes.
before leaving the ground these expert butchers treatedthemselves to a little of the marrow and warm liver ina raw state!
cameron and joe walked up to the group while theywere indulging in this little feast.
"well, i've often seen that eaten, but i never coulddo it myself," remarked the former.
"no!" cried joe in surprise; "now that's oncommoncur'us. i've lived on raw liver an' marrow-bones fortwo or three days at a time, when we wos chased by thecamanchee injuns an' didn't dare to make a fire; an' it'sra'al good, it is. won't ye try it now?"cameron shook his head.
"no, thankee; i'll not refuse when i can't help it,but until then i'll remain in happy ignorance of howgood it is.""well, it is strange how some folk can't abide anythingin the meat way they ha'n't bin used to. d'yeknow i've actually knowed men from the cities aswouldn't eat a bit o' horseflesh for love or money.
would ye believe it?""i can well believe that, joe, for i have met withsuch persons myself; in fact, they are rather numerous.
what are you chuckling at, joe?""chucklin'? if ye mean be that 'larfin in to myself,'
it's because i'm thinkin' o' a chap as once comed out tothe prairies.""let us walk back to the camp, joe, and you cantell me about him as we go along.""i think," continued joe, "he comed from washington,but i never could make out right whether he wosa government man or not. anyhow, he wos a pheelosopher--anatter-list i think he call his-self--""a naturalist," suggested cameron.
"ay, that wos more like it. well, he wos about sixfeet two in his moccasins, an' as thin as a ramrod, an' asblind as a bat--leastways he had weak eyes an' woregreen spectacles. he had on a gray shootin' coat an'
trousers an' vest an' cap, with rid whiskers an' a longnose as rid at the point as the whiskers wos.""well, this gentleman engaged me an' another hunterto go a trip with him into the prairies, so off we sot onefine day on three hosses, with our blankets at our backs--wewos to depend on the rifle for victuals. at first ithought the natter-list one o' the cruellest beggars asiver went on two long legs, for he used to go abouteverywhere pokin' pins through all the beetles an' fliesan' creepin' things he could sot eyes on, an' stuck themin a box. but he told me he comed here a-purpose togit as many o' them as he could; so says i, 'if that's it,i'll fill yer box in no time.'
"'will ye?' says he, quite pleased like.
"'i will,' says i, an' galloped off to a place as wasfilled wi' all sorts o' crawlin' things. so i sets to work,an' whenever i seed a thing crawlin' i sot my fut on itan' crushed it, an' soon filled my breast pocket. icotched a lot o' butterflies too, an' stuffed them into myshot-pouch, an' went back in an hour or two an' showedhim the lot. he put on his green spectacles an' lookedat them as if he'd seen a rattlesnake.
"'my good man,' says he, 'you've crushed them allto pieces!'
"'they'll taste as good for all that,' says i; forsomehow i'd taken't in me head that he'd heard o' theway the injuns make soup o' the grasshoppers, an' woswantin' to try his hand at a new dish!
"he laughed when i said this, an' told me he woscollectin' them to take home to be looked at. but that'snot wot i was goin' to tell ye about him," continuedjoe; "i wos goin' to tell ye how we made him eathorseflesh. he carried a revolver, too, this natter-listdid, to load wi' shot as small as dust a'most, an' shootlittle birds with. i've seed him miss birds only threefeet away with it. an' one day he drew it all of a suddent an' let flyat abig bum-bee that wos passin',yellin' out that it wos the finest wot he had iver seed.
he missed the bee, of coorse, 'cause it wos a flyin' shot,he said, but he sent the whole charge right into martin'sback--martin was my comrade's name. by good luckmartin had on a thick leather coat, so the shot nivergot the length o' his skin.""one day i noticed that the natter-list had stuffedsmall corks into the muzzles of all the six barrels of hisrevolver. i wondered what they wos for, but he wosal'ays doin' sich queer things that i soon forgot it.
'maybe,' thought i, jist before it went out o' my mind--'maybehe thinks that'll stop the pistol from goin'
off by accident;' for ye must know he'd let it off threetimes the first day by accident, an' well-nigh blowedoff his leg the last time, only the shot lodged in theback o' a big toad he'd jist stuffed into his breechespocket. well, soon after we shot a buffalo bull, sowhen it fell, off he jumps from his horse an' runs up toit. so did i, for i wasn't sure the beast was dead,an' i had jist got up when it rose an' rushed at thenatter-list.
"'out o' the way,' i yelled, for my rifle was empty;but he didn't move, so i rushed for'ard an' drew thepistol out o' his belt and let fly in the bull's ribs jistas it ran the poor man down. martin came up thatmoment an' put a ball through its heart, an' then wewent to pick up the natter-list. he came to in alittle, an' the first thing he said was, 'where's my revolver?'
when i gave it to him he looked at it, an' saidwith a solemcholy shake o' the head, 'there's a wholebarrel-full lost!' it turned out that he had taken tousin' the barrels for bottles to hold things in, but heforgot to draw the charges, so sure enough i had fireda charge o' bum-bees an' beetles an' small shot intothe buffalo!
"but that's not what i wos goin' to tell ye yit. wecorned to a part o' the plains where we wos well-nighstarved for want o' game, an' the natter-list got sothin that ye could a'most see through him, so i offeredto kill my horse, an' cut it up for meat; but you niversaw sich a face he made. 'i'd rather die first,' says he,'than eat it;' so we didn't kill it. but that very daymartin got a shot at a wild horse an' killed it. thenatter-list was down in the bed o' a creek at the timegropin' for creepers, an' he didn't see it.
"'he'll niver eat it,' says martin.
"'that's true,' says i.
"'let's tell him it's a buffalo,' says he.
"'that would be tellin' a lie,' says i.
"so we stood lookin' at each other, not knowin' whatto do.
"'i'll tell ye what,' cries martin; 'we'll cut it up,and take the meat into camp an' cook it without sayin'
a word.'
"'done,' says i, 'that's it;' for ye must know thepoor critter wos no judge o' meat. he couldn't tell one kind fromanother,an' he niver axed questions.
in fact he niver a'most spoke to us all the trip. well,we cut up the horse, an' carried the flesh an' marrowbonesinto camp, takin' care to leave the hoofs an' skinbehind, an' sot to work an' roasted steaks an' marrowbones.""when the natter-list came back ye should ha' seenthe joyful face he put on when he smelt the grub, forhe was all but starved out, poor critter.""'what have we got here?' cried he, rubbin' hishands an' sittin' down.""'steaks an' marrow-bones,' says martin.""'capital!' says he. 'i'm so hungry.'""so he fell to work like a wolf. i niver seed a manpitch into anything like as that natter-list did into thathorseflesh.""'these are first-rate marrow-bones,' says he, squintin'
with one eye down the shin-bone o' the hind leg to see ifit was quite empty.""'yes, sir, they is,' answered martin, as grave as a judge.""'take another, sir,' says i.""'no, thankee,' says he with a sigh, for he didn'tlike to leave off.""well, we lived for a week on horseflesh, an' first-ratelivin' it wos; then we fell in with buffalo, an' niverran short again till we got to the settlements, whenhe paid us our money an' shook hands, sayin' we'd hada nice trip, an' he wished us well. jist as we wospartin' i said, says i, 'd'ye know what it wos we livedon for a week arter we wos well-nigh starved in theprairies?'""'what,' says he, 'when we got yon capital marrowbones?'""'the same,' says i. 'yon wos horse flesh,' says i;'an' i think ye'll surely niver say again that it isn'tfirst-rate livin'.'""'ye're jokin',' says he, turnin' pale.""'it's true, sir; as true as ye're standin' there.'""well, would ye believe it, he turned--that natter-listdid--as sick as a dog on the spot wot he wosstandin' on, an' didn't taste meat again for three days!"shortly after the conclusion of joe's story theyreached the camp, and here they found the women andchildren flying about in a state of terror, and the fewmen who had been left in charge arming themselves inthe greatest haste.
"hallo! something wrong here," cried cameron,hastening forward, followed by joe. "what has happened,eh?""injuns comin', monsieur; look dere," answered atrapper, pointing down the valley.
"arm and mount at once, and come to the front ofthe camp," cried cameron in a tone of voice that silencedevery other, and turned confusion into order.
the cause of all this outcry was a cloud of dust seenfar down the valley, which was raised by a band ofmounted indians who approached the camp at fullspeed. their numbers could not be made out, but theywere a sufficiently formidable band to cause muchanxiety to cameron, whose men, at the time, werescattered to the various trapping-grounds, and only tenchanced to be within call of the camp. however, withthese ten he determined to show a bold front to thesavages, whether they came as friends or foes. hetherefore ordered the women and children within thecitadel formed of the goods and packs of furs piledupon each other, which point of retreat was to be defendedto the last extremity. then galloping to thefront he collected his men and swept down the valley atfull speed. in a few minutes they were near enough toobserve that the enemy only numbered four indians,who were driving a band of about a hundred horsesbefore them, and so busy were they in keeping thetroop together that cameron and his men were closeupon them before they were observed.
it was too late to escape. joe blunt and henri hadalready swept round and cut off their retreat. in thisextremity the indians slipped from the backs of theirsteeds and darted into the bushes, where they weresafe from pursuit, at least on horseback, while thetrappers got behind the horses and drove them towardsthe camp.
at this moment one of the horses sprang ahead ofthe others and made for the mountain, with its maneand tail flying wildly in the breeze.
"marrow-bones and buttons!" shouted one of themen, "there goes dick varley's horse.""so it am!" cried henri, and dashed off in pursuit,followed by joe and two others.
"why, these are our own horses," said cameron insurprise, as they drove them into a corner of the hillsfrom which they could not escape.
this was true, but it was only half the truth, for,besides their own horses, they had secured upwards ofseventy indian steeds; a most acceptable addition totheir stud, which, owing to casualties and wolves, hadbeen diminishing too much of late. the fact was thatthe indians who had captured the horses belonging topierre and his party were a small band of robbers whohad travelled, as was afterwards learned, a considerabledistance from the south, stealing horses from varioustribes as they went along. as we have seen, in an evilhour they fell in with pierre's party and carried offtheir steeds, which they drove to a pass leading fromone valley to the other. here they united them withthe main band of their ill-gotten gains, and while thegreater number of the robbers descended farther intothe plains in search of more booty, four of them weresent into the mountains with the horses already procured.
these four, utterly ignorant of the presence ofwhite men in the valley, drove their charge, as we haveseen, almost into the camp.
cameron immediately organized a party to go out insearch of pierre and his companions, about whose fatehe became intensely anxious, and in the course of half-an-houras many men as he could spare with safety weredespatched in the direction of the blue mountains.
