SHOWS THAT THE TABLES ARE TURNED, AND THAT GOOD AND BAD FORTUNE CONTINUE
TO COMMINGLE.
One fortunate circumstance attending the capture of Wandering Will and
his friends was that the Indians happened to follow the route which they
had been pursuing, so that, whatever might be their ultimate fate, in
the meantime they were advancing on their journey.
Big Ben took occasion to point this out to his comrades the next night,
when, after a severe day's ride, they were allowed to sit down and eat a
scanty meal surrounded by the Indian warriors. No fire was lighted, for
the savages knew they were now approaching their enemies' country.
Their food, which consisted of dried buffalo meat, was eaten cold. In
order to enable the captives to feed themselves, their hands had been
loosed and refastened in front instead of behind them, but this did not
in any degree improve their chance of escape, for they were guarded with
extreme vigilance.
"You see, Mr Osten," said Big Ben, in a low tone, "it's a piece of good
luck that they've brought us this way, 'cause when we leave them we have
nought to do but continue our journey."
"Leave them!" exclaimed Will in surprise. "How shall we manage to leave
them?"
"By escapin'," answered the trapper. "How it is to be gone about no man
can tell, for man is only mortal an' don't know nothin' about the
futur', but we'll find that out in good time."
"I hope we may," returned Will sadly, as he gazed round on the stern
faces of the savages, who ate their frugal meal in solemn silence; "but
it seems to me that our case is hopeless."
"Faix, that's what meself thinks too," muttered Larry between his teeth,
"for these cords on me wrists would howld a small frigate, an' there's a
black thief just forenint me, who has never tuk his eyes off me since we
wos catched. Ah, then, if I wor free I would make ye wink, ye ugly
rascal. But how comes it, Mister Trapper, that ye seem to be so sure o'
escapin'?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm hopeful," replied Big Ben, with a smile.
"Hopeful!" repeated the other, "it's disapinted ye'll be then. Haven't
ye often towld me that thim blackguards roast an' tear and torture
prisoners nowadays just as bad as they ever did?"
"I have."
"Well,--d'ye think them Redskins look as if they would let us off,
seein' that we've shot wan of them already?"
"They don't."
"Sure, then, yer hope stands on a bad foundation, an' the sooner we make
up our minds to be skivered the better, for sartin am I that our doom is
fixed. Don't 'ee think so, Bunco?"
The worthy appealed to was busily engaged in tearing to pieces and
devouring a mass of dried buffalo meat, but he looked up, grinned, and
nodded his head, as if to say that he believed Larry was right, and that
in his opinion being roasted, torn, tortured, and skivered was rather a
pleasant prospect than otherwise.
"I have two reasons for bein' hopeful," observed Big Ben, after a short
silence. "One is that I never got into a scrape in my life that I
didn't get out of somehow or another, and the other reason is that I
have observed signs on the trees that tell me the enemies, for whom the
Redskins are seeking, are aware of their bein' on the trail and will
give them a warm reception, perhaps sooner than they expect."
"What signs do you refer to?" asked Will Osten. "I see no sign of man
having been here."
"Perhaps not, and by good luck neither do the Injuns, for why, they
can't read handwritin' as is not meant for 'em, but I know somethin' of
the tribe they are after, an' one or two small marks on the trees tell
me that they are not far distant. No doubt they will attack the camp at
night."
"Ochone!" groaned Larry, "an' won't they brain an' scalp us wid the
rest, an' our hands tied so that we can't do nothin' to help ourselves?"
"It is possible they may," returned the trapper; "and if they do we
can't help it, but let me warn you all, comrades, if we are attacked
suddenly, let each man drop flat on the grass where he sits or stands.
It is our _only chance_."
Poor Larry O'Hale was so overcome by the gloomy prospects before him
that he dropped flat on his back then and there, and gave vent to a
grievous sigh, after which he lay perfectly still, gazing up at the
stars and thinking of "Ould Ireland." Being possessed of that happy
temperament which can dismiss care at the shortest possible notice, and
being also somewhat fatigued, he soon fell sound asleep. His companions
were about to follow his example when they heard a whizzing sound which
induced them suddenly to sink down among the grass. At the same moment
an appalling shriek rudely broke the silence of the night, and two of
the sentinels fell, transfixed with arrows. One of these lay dead where
he fell, but the other sprang up and ran quickly, with staggering gait,
after his comrades, who at the first alarm had leaped up and bounded
into the nearest underwood, followed by a shower of arrows. That these
deadly messengers had not been sent after them in vain was evinced by
the yells which succeeded their discharge. A moment after, several dark
and naked forms glided swiftly over the camp in pursuit. One of these,
pausing for one moment beside the dead Indian, seized him by the hair,
passed his knife swiftly round the head so as to cut the skin all round,
tore off the scalp, and stuck it under his girdle as he leaped on in
pursuit.
Fortunately the prisoners were not observed. Larry on being awakened by
the yell had half raised himself, but, recollecting Big Ben's caution,
dropped down again and remained perfectly still. The attacking party
had, of course, seen the sentinels fall and the rest of the warriors
spring up and dart away, and naturally supposing, doubtless, that no one
would be so foolish as to remain in the camp, they had passed on without
discovering the prisoners. When they had all passed, and the sounds of
the fight were at a little distance, Big Ben leaped up and exclaimed:--
"Comrades, look sharp, moments are golden. They'll be back like a shot!
Here, Larry, grip this in yer hand an' stick the point of it agin' that
tree."
While he spoke in a cool, calm, almost jocular tone, the trapper acted
with a degree of rapidity and vigour which showed that he thought the
crisis a momentous one. With his fettered hands he plucked the knife
from the girdle of the dead Indian and gave it to Larry O'Hale, who at
once seized it with his right hand, and, as directed, thrust the point
against the stem of a neighbouring tree. The trapper applied the stout
cords that bound him to its edge, and, after a few seconds of energetic
sawing, was free. He instantly liberated his companions.
"Now, lads," said he, "down the stream and into the water as fast as you
can."
Our hero and Larry, being utterly ignorant of the manners and habits of
the people amongst whom they were thrown, obeyed with the docility of
little children--showing themselves, thereby, to be real men! Bunco,
before darting away, seized an Indian gun, powder-horn, and shot-belt
which had been left behind. The attack had been so sudden and
unexpected that many of the savages had found it as much as they could
do to save themselves, leaving their arms behind them. Of course,
therefore, no one had thought of encumbering himself with the weapons of
the prisoners. Big Ben had thought of all this. His wits had long been
sharpened by practice. He also knew that his white comrades would think
only of escaping, and that there was no time to waste in telling them to
look after their weapons. Giving them, therefore, the general direction
to rush down the banks of the stream and get into the water, he quietly
but quickly seized his own piece and the guns of our hero and the
Irishman, together with one of the large powder-horns and bullet-pouches
of the war-party; also two smaller horns and pouches. The securing of
these cost him only a few seconds. When Will Osten and Larry had run at
full speed for several hundred yards down the stream which flowed near
to the spot where the war-party had encamped, they stopped to take
breath and receive further instructions. The active trapper and Bunco
were at their heels in a moment.
"You forgot your guns," said the trapper, with a quiet chuckle, handing
one to Larry and the other to Will.
"What nixt?" asked Larry, with a strange mixture of determination and
uncertainty in his tone--the former being founded on his character, the
latter on his ignorance.
"Follow me. Don't touch a twig or a blade o' grass on the banks, an'
make as little noise as you can. Running water leaves no trail."
Saying this, Big Ben stepped into the stream, which was a small shallow
one, and flowed for nearly half a mile through a sort of meadow among
the mountains. Down this they all waded, carefully avoiding the banks,
until they reached a narrow part where the stream tumbled over a
precipice. Here the trapper paused, and was about to give some
directions to his comrades, when the sound of constrained breathing was
heard near to him. With a sudden demonstration of being about to fire,
he turned and cocked his gun. The sharp click was no sooner heard than
three Indians burst out from beneath the bushes which overhung the
water, and, springing up the bank, fled for their lives. The trapper
could not refrain from chuckling.
"These," said he, "are some of the rascals that caught us, making their
escape by the same way that we are, but they don't know the ground as
well as I do, and apparently have got perplexed at the top o' the fall.
'Tis well. If the Redskins pursue, they will find the trail here as
clear as a king's highway--see what a gap in the bushes they have made
in their fright at the sound o' my lock! Well, well, it's not many men
that have pluck to keep quiet wi' that sound in their ears, and the
muzzle pointed at their heads! All we have to do now is to descend the
precipice without disturbing the shrubs, and then--"
A sound of horses galloping arrested him.
"Hist! don't move!"
At that moment about a dozen of the horses belonging to the war-party
came thundering down along the banks of the stream. They had broken
loose, and were flying from the Indians who had attempted to catch them.
On nearing the precipice, over which the stream leaped with noisy
petulance, the snorting steeds drew up in alarm, as if undecided which
way to turn.
"A rare chance!" cried the trapper. "Every man for himself--keep well
up the hill, comrades? an' hem them in."
Saying this, he ran up the bank, the others followed, and, in a few
minutes, they drove the steeds into a corner, from which they made a
sudden rush, but as the long halter of each was trailing at its side, no
difficulty was experienced in securing several of them as they passed
by. Next moment the fugitives were mounted and hastening away from the
scene of their late adventure as fast as the rugged nature of the ground
would permit.
It is not necessary that we should follow our adventurers in all their
windings through the mighty fastnesses of the far West. Suffice it to
say that they made good their escape from the Indians, and that, for
many days, they travelled through scenes so beautiful and varied that
they have been spoken of by those who know them well as a perfect
paradise. Every description of lovely prospect met their admiring eyes
in endless succession, but so wary were the lower animals, and so few
the human inhabitants, that those realms were to all appearance absolute
solitudes--created, apparently, for no end or purpose. Nevertheless,
there was enough there to tell the Christian philosopher that God had
made the deserts for the enjoyment of His creatures, for, although not
always visible or audible, myriads of living beings were there--from the
huge buffalo and grizzly bear to the sand-fly and mosquito--which
rejoiced in the green pastures and luxuriated beside the sweet waters of
the land.
One afternoon the travellers came upon a small plain, which reminded
them somewhat of the prairies. The first glance showed them that it was
crowded with buffalos. Instantly a sensation of wild excitement passed
through their frames, and showed itself in various ways. The Irishman
uttered a shout of delight, and suggested an immediate onslaught; but it
is due to his wisdom to say that the shout was a subdued one, and the
suggestion was humbly made. Our hero became restless and flushed, while
the eyes of Bunco and Big Ben alone served as outlets to the fire which
burned within. The plain was surrounded by low wooded hills, and had a
lake on one side winding with many an inlet amongst the hills and into
the plain, while here and there a tiny promontory, richly clothed with
pines and aspens, stretched out into the water. Among the bluffs, or
wooded islets of the plain, were to be seen several herds of bulls
feeding about a mile off, and other bands in the distance.
"Tighten your girths," said Big Ben, dismounting. The horse which the
trapper had secured, though not his own, was almost equal to it in point
of size and strength. He eyed it with evident satisfaction as he
tightened the girth, saying that if it wasn't for the difference in
colour he would have thought it was the old one. The others having also
seen to their harness mounted, and the cavalcade advanced at a walking
pace into the plain. When they arrived within quarter of a mile of the
largest band, the buffalo began to move slowly off. The scattered
groups, seeing the horsemen, drew together, and, soon forming a large
band, went off at a slow lumbering canter. The trapper, breaking into a
trot, led the way, taking care to increase his speed gently, so as to
gain on them insensibly, until he had got within about two hundred yards
of the nearest, when he went off at full speed with a wild hurrah! The
others followed, brandishing their arms and cheering in the excitement
of the moment, while they hammered the horses' ribs violently with their
unarmed heels. As they closed with them, the herd broke into separate
bands, and each man, selecting the animal nearest to him, pursued it
with reckless indifference to badger-holes. Fortunately for the riders,
the horses, being accustomed to the work, knew the danger, and kept a
sharp look-out on their own account. Soon several shots told that the
slaughter had begun, but each hunter was quickly separated from the
other, and none knew aught of the success of the rest until the pun was
over.
There was something particularly ludicrous in the appearance of the
bulls as they lumbered along in their heavy gallop; their small
hindquarters, covered with short hair, being absurdly disproportioned to
the enormous front with its hump and shaggy main. As they galloped
along, their fringed dewlaps and long beards swayed from side to side,
and their little eyes glanced viciously as they peeped from out a forest
of hair at the pursuing foe. One of the bulls suddenly took it into his
head to do more than peep! He raised his tail stiff in the air--a sign
of wicked intentions--turned round, and received Larry's horse on his
forehead. Larry described the segment of a pretty large circle in the
air, and fell flat on his back; but he jumped up unhurt, caught his
horse, which was only a little stunned, and, remounting, continued the
pursuit of the bull and killed it. He then pulled up, and looked round
to see how it fared with his companions. Ben and Bunco were not in
sight, but he observed Will Osten in hot pursuit of a large wolf. With
a wild cheer, he made after him, and, by making a detour, came in front
of the wolf, and turned it. Will fired at it quite close, but missed.
Larry, who had reloaded, also fired and missed. Then they loaded and
fired again, without success; so they endeavoured to ride over the
animal, which they succeeded in doing, as well as in running against
each other violently more than once, but without hurting the wolf, which
dodged between the horses' legs, snarling viciously. This game went on
until the horses began to get exhausted. Then the wolf made straight
off over the plain, and gained the mountains, still hotly followed,
however, until it became evident to the pursuers that their steeds were
blown, and that the wolf was distancing them at every stride.
When they at length unwillingly pulled up, the shades of evening were
beginning to descend on the scene, and neither buffalo nor comrades were
within range of their vision.
"Humph! we've got lost because of that rascal," grumbled Will Osten.
"Bad luck to it!" exclaimed his companion.
"Have you any idea of the way back?" asked Will, with a look of
perplexity.
"Not in the laste," said Larry; "it's always the way, when a man goes on
a wild-goose chase he's sure to come to grief, an' a wild-wolf chase
seems to belong to the same family."
Will was too much vexed to reply, so he urged his steed to a gallop, and
tried to retrace his way to the little plain, but the more they wandered
the deeper did they appear to stray into the mountains.
Meanwhile, the trapper and Bunco, having cut off the best parts of the
animals they had killed, made their encampment on the highest bluff they
could find near the lake, and prepared supper; looking out now and then
for their absent comrades. As the evening wore on they became anxious,
and went out to search for them, but it was not till the following
morning that they were discovered, almost falling out of their saddles
from exhaustion, and wandering about they scarce knew whither.
Conducting them to the camp, the trapper and Bunco gave them food, and
then allowed them to sleep until the sun was high, after which, with
recruited energies and spirits, they resumed their journey.
Thus they travelled for many a day--now scaling rugged mountain passes
where it seemed doubtful whether the horses would be able to clamber,
anon traversing rich meadows, and frequently meeting with and shooting
deer, bears, Rocky Mountain goats, and the other wild inhabitants of the
region. But, in course of time, they reached a particularly barren part
of the mountains, to travel through which was a matter of extreme
difficulty, while, to add to their hardships, game became very scarce.
One evening they met with an adventure of a rather warm description,
through the carelessness of Larry, which well-nigh cost them their
lives. They had reached a forest of small pines, through which they
proceeded several miles, and then, finding that the trees grew so close
together as to render progress very difficult, they resolved to encamp
where they were, and, accordingly, cut down a clear space, in one part
of which they fastened the horses, and at the other end made the camp.
The weather had for a considerable time been hot and dry, and mosquitoes
and gadflies were very troublesome. They therefore lighted a fire for
the horses as well as for themselves, in order to let the poor creatures
get the benefit of the smoke which, as long as it lasted, effectually
cleared away the flies. It was Larry's duty that night to hobble and
secure the horses, but Larry was fatigued, and particularly anxious to
commence supper with as little delay as possible. He therefore fastened
the horses so insecurely that one of them got loose, and, without being
perceived, kicked about some of the blazing embers in his anxiety to get
into the thickest of the smoke, and so find relief from his tormentors.
These embers set fire to the dry moss. While the travellers were busy
with supper, they were startled by a loud, crackling sound. Before any
of them could jump up, they heard a roar, which was followed by a mighty
illumination. One of the neighbouring pines had caught fire, and blazed
up as if it had been gun-cotton. The moment was critical. The little
wind there was blew from the burning tree towards the spot where they
sat. They had scarcely realised what had occurred when another and
another of the trees flashed up, for, although green, they burned like
the driest timber. To unloose and drive the horses out of danger, and
carry off their camp equipage in time, was impossible. Big Ben, seeing
this at a glance, seized his axe and shouted to the others to assist.
He sprang at the intervening trees, and, exerting his enormous strength
to the uttermost, cut them down as if they had been willow-wands--
fortunately they were small; some of them were lopped through with a
single crashing blow. Our hero was not slow to emulate Ben, and,
although not so expert, he did such good execution that in a few minutes
there was a wide gap between the camp and the burning trees.
But the horses, meanwhile, were in danger of being suffocated, and the
dry moss under foot was burning so fiercely that the fire threatened to
spread in spite of their exertions. Seeing this, Bunco and Larry--first
casting loose the horses--ran with their kettles and mugs to a
neighbouring stream for water, which they poured on the moss. By this
time they were nearly surrounded by fire and smoke; the flames roared
with appalling fury; the horse that had done all the mischief got burnt
about the legs, threw himself down in the very midst of the fire and
rolled in agony. Axes and kettles were instantly dropped, and all
sprang to the rescue; grasped the creature by the head and tail, but
could not drag him out. In desperation, Larry seized a stick, and so
belaboured him that he leaped up and rushed out of the smoke and flames,
terribly singed, indeed, but not much hurt otherwise. After this the
fire was again attacked, and gradually its progress was cut off, so that
our travellers were ultimately enabled to remove to a place of safety.
But the flames had only been checked; they soon spread again, and, away
to leeward of them, set the whole region on fire. From their new
encampment that night, they could see rolling clouds of smoke mingling
with tongues of flame which shot up, ever and anon, above the trees, and
brought out in strong relief, or cast into deep shadow, the crags,
gorges, and caverns of the mountains--presenting a scene of terrible
devastation and indescribable sublimity.