THE TRAPPER’S STORY.
I was aroused from my slumber, before it was yet light, by Biddon
shaking me and calling in my ear:
“Come, you chaps, you’ve got only two minutes to swaller yer feed in.”
Nat was already moving about, and I sprang to my feet, determined to
continue in my friend’s good graces, if such a thing were possible, by
a cheerful acquiescence in all his reasonable wishes. Our fire was
kindled, a hasty breakfast swallowed, and just as the sun made its
appearance above the prairie, we moved off toward the north.
Long before noon we reached the Platte, and forded it at the point
where Fort Grattan now stands. The Platte, during the winter months,
is a boisterous stream of great width, but in summer it is very
shallow (from which circumstance it derives its name), and at the dry
season it almost ceases running, and dwindles down to an innumerable
number of stagnant pools. As it was now the summer season, we walked
over without more than merely wetting our shoes. The Oregon trail
follows the northern shore of this stream to Washington Territory, or
to what was Oregon at the time of which I write. Leaving the Platte,
we shaped our course toward the northwest, so as to strike the
southern spur of the Black Hills. From Biddon’s conversation, I found
that his destination was the neighborhood of the head-waters of the
Tongue or Powder River, which have their cañons in the Black Hills.
As he allowed his horse to proceed upon a moderate walk, we had no
trouble in keeping him company. We generally started at the first
indication of morning, halting now and then to slake our thirst in the
numerous streams which crossed our path, and resting an hour at noon.
At sunset we struck camp upon some small stream, cooked our evening
meal, spent an hour or two in smoking and conversation, and turned in
for the night.
The country over which we now journeyed was much better timbered than
any through which we had yet passed. For an entire day after crossing
the Platte, we met with thousands of the ash, elm, walnut, and
cottonwood trees. The bark of the latter, I was surprised to observe,
was greatly relished by the trapper’s horse, he often preferring it
to the rich, succulent grass which so abounds in this region. Besides
this there were signs of the buffalo, antelope, and hundreds of other
animals.
One night we halted upon the bank of a large stream some miles north
of the Platte, which emptied into the Missouri. It was quite broad and
rapid, and near the center of the channel a small, sandy island was
visible. We passed over this while fording the stream, and I noticed
that Biddon walked around it, and surveyed several spots with more
than common interest. I did not question him then, but at night, when
we were stretched before the fire, with our soothing pipes, I ventured
the inquiry.
“I seed sights on that chunk of mud one time,” said he, with a dark
frown.
“What was it?--what was it?” asked Nat, eagerly.
“Here’s as what don’t like to think of that time, augh!” he answered,
seeming still unwilling to refer to it.
“Why not?” I asked, beginning to partake of Nat’s curiosity.
“It makes a feller’s blood bile; but, howsomever,” he added,
brightening up, “if you wants to hear it, yer kin.”
“We do by all means; please give it.”
“Yas, that ar’ war’ a time of general wipin’ out, and this yer water
that now looks as black as a wolf’s mouth, _run red_ that night! It
war’ nigh onto ten year ago that it happened. I was down in Westport
one day in the summer when a feller slapped me on the shoulder and
axed me ef I wanted a job. I tole him I didn’t care much, but if he’s
a mind to fork over, and it wan’t desprit hard, and too much like
work, I’s his man. He said as how thar’ war’ a lot of fellers camped
out on the prairie, as war gwine to start for Oregon, and as wanted a
guide; and heerin’ me spoken on as suthin’ extronnery, why he like to
know ef I wouldn’t go; he’d make the pay all right. I cut around the
stump awhile and at last ’cluded to go. I went out onto the perarie,
and seed the company. They were men, women, and children, ’specially
the last ones. I seed they wanted good watchin’, and I kinder hinted
they’d find trouble afore they’d reach Oregon.
“There weren’t many folks trampin’ these parts then, and them as did
go, had to make up thar minds to see fight and ha’r-raisin’. B’ars and
beavers, they did! The reds war the same then all over, arter you get
clear of the States, and no feller’s ha’r war his own till he’d lost
it.
“We started the next day, and struck the Platte afore night. There war
but twenty good men, an’ I made half of ’em stand watch that night
just to get their hands in. In course they didn’t see nothin’, ’cept
one straddlin’ chap, like this feller yer that is called Nat. He said
as how he seed wonders, he did, and thar war a hundred reds crawlin’
round the camp all night.
“We went purty slow, as it weren’t best to hurry the teams; but we
hadn’t been two days on the way afore the fools got into the
all-firedest scrabble I ever seed. I don’t know what it come ’bout,
but it war so big, they split company, and part of ’em crossed over
and camped on t’other side the Platte. I tole ’em they’d see stars
purty soon, if they didn’t splice agin, but they’s too rearin’ to do
it, and I said if they’s a mind to be sich fools, they mought be fur
all me, and I’d let ’em go on alone. Howsomever, the smallest party
hung on fur me not to leave ’em, and I ’cluded to stay with ’em as I
knowed purty well they’d need me all the time.
“The biggest company as had crossed the Platte, kept on by it, and so
the others said they’d leave it and cut across fur Oregon. I tole ’em
this war the best way, and so we left ’em. Them I war with war a heap
the smallest, and had but three or four men and five or six women and
children. What made things look wuss, I seed ‘signs’ when we parted,
and I knowed purty well the reds smelt what war goin’ on. And ’bout a
dozen times in the afternoon I could see ’em off on the perarie
stealin’ long and dodgin’ through cover. I knowed that the imps were
follerin’ us, seein’ the other war a heap more powerful nor us.
“Things got so dubersome afore night, I said to the men ef they’d take
the advice of a feller as knowed what he war ’bout, they’d turn round
and never stop till they cotched the others; for ef they didn’t,
they’d cotch it at night; reds war ’bout them as thick as flies. They
said how ef I’s _’fraid_ I mought go back, but as for them _they’d_ go
through fire and blazes ’fore they would. I felt riled ’nough at this
to leave ’em, and I would ef it hadn’t been fur them poor women; they
looked so sorrerful I made up my mind to stick to ’em fur thar sake.
“We reached the stream just as it war growing dark, and the reds had
got so sassy, that five or six of ’em stood a little ways off and
watched us. This scart the women and men, and they axed me what war to
be done? The women cried and wanted to coax the Injins up to give ’em
sunkthin’ to get thar good will, but they war cross and sulky, and
didn’t say much.
“After some talk and a heap of cryin’, we ’cluded to camp on that
piece of sand in the river. The teams war drew over and we follered.
The water war some deeper nor now, and it took us a long time to land;
but we got over at last. As soon as we war clean over, I commenced
fixing up things fur the reds. We didn’t build no fire, but put the
teams together near the middle, and the women inside ’em. There war
four men without me, and I set ’em round the place to watch fur sign.
I made ’em all squat flat down on the mud close to the water, and told
’em to blaze away at anything they seed, ef it war a beaver or otter,
and gave ’em pertickler orders not to wink both eyes at a time. I seed
they’s skerish, and there weren’t no danger of thar snoozin’ on watch.
“I’s pretty sartin the reds would come some of thar tricks, and come
down the river; so I went up to the upper part of the thing, and laid
in the mud myself to watch fur ’em. I knowed, too, they wouldn’t be
’bout ’fore purty late, so I took a short nap as I laid in the mud.
When I woke up the moon war up in the sky, and the river had riz so my
pegs war in the water. I flapped out, but didn’t see nothin’ yet. I
sneaked down round by t’other fellers, and found ’em all wide awake;
and they said, too, as how they hadn’t seen nothin’ ’cept the river
war gettin’ higher, which they kinder thought the Injins mought ’ve
done. Jist as I war going back I heard some of the purtiest singin’ in
the world. Fust, I thought it war an Injin, ef it hadn’t been so nice;
then I ’cluded it must be an angel. I listened, and found it came from
the wagons. I crept up and seed two little girls all ’lone clus by the
wagons, a singin’ sunkthin’. Shoot me! ef it didn’t make me feel
watery to see them. The moon war shinin’ down through the flyin’
clouds, right out on ’em. They sot with their arms round each other
and war bare-headed, and ef I hadn’t knowed ’em I’d swore they were
angels sure. I axed what they were singin’ for, and they said the
Injins war goin’ to come after ’em that night, and they war singin’ to
their mother in heaven to keep ’em away. Shoot me! when one of ’em
throwed her little white arms round my neck and kissed my ugly
meat-trap, I couldn’t stand it. I went up to my place again and lad
down in the mud.
“It was gettin’ colder, and the wind comin’ up, drew the white clouds
’fore the moon, makin’ it all black. But when it come out agin I seed
sunkthin’ comin’ down the river that looked like a log. I dug down
deeper into the mud, and set my peepers on it, fur I knowed thar war
sunkthin’ else thar, too. It come right on and struck the mud a
little ways from me. I didn’t stir ’cept to kinder loose my knife. The
log stuck a minute, and then swung round and went down the river. I
knowed the boys would see it, and I didn’t leave my place. Thinkin’ as
how this war only sent down to see what we’d do, I war lookin’ fur
other things, when I heard a noise in the water, and, shoot me, ef a
sneakin’ red didn’t come up out of the water, and commence crawlin’
toward whar the gals war singin’. (Jist put a little fodder on the
fire.)”
I sprang up and threw on some fagots, and then seated myself and
anxiously awaited the rest of his story. He put away his pipe, filled
his mouth with tobacco, and, after several annoying delays, resumed:
“Thar weren’t no time to lose. I crept ’long behind him mighty sly,
and afore he knowed it, come down _spank_ onto him. I didn’t make no
noise nor he either. I jist grabbed his gullet and finished him with
my knife. I then crawled back agin, and, shoot me, ef I didn’t see
forty logs comin’ down on us; the river war full of ’em.
“I jumped up and hollered to the other fellers to look out. They came
up aside me and stood ready, but it weren’t no use. ’Fore we knowed
it, I seed over forty of ’em ’long ’side us. We blazed into ’em and
went to usin’ our knives, but I knowed it wouldn’t do. They set up a
yell and pitched fur the wagons, while ’bout a dozen went at us. The
fust thing I knowed the whole four boys were down and thar ha’r
raised, and the women screechin’ murder. It made me desprit, and I
reckon I done some tall work that night. Most these beauty spots on my
mug come from that scrimmage. I seed a red dart by me with that little
gal as was singin’, and cotched a dead red’s gun and let drive at him;
but the gun weren’t loaded, and so the devil run off with her.
“The oxes war bellerin’, the horses snortin’, and the tomahawks
stoppin’ the women’s screams; the redskins war howlin’ and yellin’
like all mad, and as I had got some big cuts and knocks, I ’cluded it
best to move quarters. So I made a jump for the stream, took a long
dive, and swam for the shore. I come up ’bout whar you’re setting, and
I made a heap of tracks ’fore daylight come.”
“And did you never hear anything of the children captured upon that
night?”
“I never seed ’em agin; but I come ’cross a chap at Fort Laramie when
I went down agin, what said he’d seen a gal ’mong some the redskins up
in these parts, and I’ve thought p’r’aps it mought be one of ’em, and
agin it moughtn’t.”
“Did you say that all happened out there?” asked Nat, jerking his
thumb toward the island mentioned, without turning his face.
“I reckon I did.”
“Bet there’s a lot of Injins there now!” exclaimed he, turning his
head in that direction.
“Jist as like as not,” returned Biddon, with a sly look at me.
“I’m goin’ to sleep then,” and rolling himself up in his
buffalo-blanket, all but his feet, disappeared from view.
“It’s ’bout time to snooze, I think,” remarked the trapper, in a lower
tone, turning toward me.
“I think so, but I suppose there need be no apprehension of
molestation from Injins, need there?”
Biddon looked at me a moment; then one side of his mouth expanded into
a broad grin, and he quietly remarked:
“Times are different from what they used to war.”
“Biddon,” said I, after a moment’s silence, “before we saw you we
camped upon one side of a stream while you were upon the other. Now, I
do not suppose you would willfully harm a stranger; but since I have
met you, I have a great desire to know why you fired that shot at Nat.
You supposed we were Indians, I presume?”
A quiet smile illumined the trapper’s swarthy visage; and, after
waiting a moment, he answered:
“The way on it war this: I seed you and Nat camping there, and I
s’pected you war gwine to tramp these parts. I watched you awhile, and
was gwine to sing out for you to come over. Then said I, ‘Biddon, you
dog, ain’t there a chance to give them a powerful scare.’ First I
drawed bead on you, but when that Nat jumped up, I let fly at him, and
he kerflummuxed splendid. Howsumever, it’s time to snooze, and I’m in
for it.”
With this, we wrapped our blankets around us, and in a few moments
were asleep.
On a clear summer morning, we sallied out upon the broad, open prairie
again. The trapper now struck a direction nearly due northwest toward
the Black Hills, and we proceeded with greater speed than before. The
face of the country began to change materially. Vast groves of timber
met the eye, and the soil became rich and productive. At noon we
encountered the most immense drove of buffaloes that I ever witnessed.
They were to the west of us, and proceeding in a southern direction,
cropping the grass clean as they went. Far away, as far as the vision
could reach, nothing but a sea of black moving bodies could be
distinguished. I mounted a small knoll to ascertain the size of the
drove; but only gained a clearer idea of their enormous number. The
whole western horizon, from the extreme northwest to the southwest,
was occupied solely by them, and nothing else met the eye. They were
not under way, and yet the whole mass was moving slowly onward. The
head buffaloes would seize a mouthful of grass, and then move on a few
feet and grasp another. Those behind did the same, and the whole
number were proceeding in this manner. This constant change of their
position gave an appearance to them, as viewed from my standing-point,
similar to the long heaving of the sea after a violent storm. It was
truly a magnificent spectacle.
We approached within a short distance. They were more scattered upon
the outside, and with a little trouble the trapper managed to
insinuate himself among them. His object was to drive off a cow which
had a couple of half-grown calves by her side, but they took the alarm
too soon, and rushed off into the drove. We then prepared to bring
down one apiece. I selected an enormous bull, and sighted for his
head. I approached nigh enough to make my aim sure, and fired. The
animal raised his head, his mouth full of grass, and glaring at me a
moment, gave a snort of alarm and plunged headlong away into the
droves. At the same instant I heard Nat’s rifle beside me, and a
moment after that of the trapper. This gave the alarm to the herd.
Those near us uttered a series of snorts, and dropping their bushy
heads, bowled off at a terrific rate. The motion was rapidly
communicated to the others, and in a few seconds the whole eastern
side was rolling simultaneously onward, like the violent
countercurrent of the sea. The air was filled with such a vast cloud
of dust that the sun’s light was darkened, and for a time it seemed we
should suffocate. We remained in our places for over an hour, when the
last of these prairie monsters thundered by. A strong wind carried the
dust off to the west, and we were at last in clear air again. Yet our
appearance was materially changed, for a thin veil of yellow dust had
settled over and completely enveloped us, and we were like walking
figures of clay.
[Illustration: “Gave a snort of alarm and plunged headlong away into
the droves.”]
I looked away in the direction of the herd, expecting to see my
buffalo’s lifeless form, but was considerably chagrined at my
disappointment, as was also Nat at his. The trapper’s was a dozen
yards from where it had been struck.
“’Pears to me,” said he with a sly smile, “I heer’n your dogs bark,
but I don’t see nothin’ of no buffaloes, ogh!”
“I _hit_ mine,” I answered quickly; “I am sure of it.”
“Whereabouts?”
“In the head, plump and square.”
“Whar’d you sight yourn, Greeny?”
“Just back the horns, and I hit him too. If he hasn’t dropped before
this, I’ll bet he’ll have the headache for a week.”
“B’ars and beavers, you! Them bufflers didn’t mind your shots more nor
a couple of hailstones. Do you see whar I picked mine?” asked the
trapper, pulling the buffalo’s fore-leg forward, and disclosing the
track of the bullet behind it.
“Isn’t a shot in the head fatal?” I asked in astonishment.
“You might hit ’em thar with a cannon-ball, and they’d git up and run
agin, and ef you’d pepper ’em all day whar you did yourn, you’d pick
the bullets out thar ha’r and they wouldn’t mind it.”
This I afterward found to be true. No shot, however well aimed, can
reach the seat of life in the buffalo through the head, unless it
enter the eye, fair front.[1]
[1] I may further remark, that the buffalo slain by us when lost
upon the prairie, was shot in the side as he wheeled, to run
from us, without our suspecting it was the only place in which
we could have given him a mortal wound.
The trapper’s buffalo was thrown forward upon his face, his legs bent
beneath him, and dressed after the usual fashion. He was in good
condition, and we had a rich feast upon his carcass. The trapper
selected a few choice portions from the inside, relished only by
himself, and cutting several huge pieces for future use, the rest was
left for the beasts of prey.
We proceeded but a few miles further, and encamped upon the banks of
the Dry Fork. This is a small stream, a few miles south of the Black
Hills. There was but a foot or two of sluggish water, and in the hot
season it was often perfectly dry. Here for the first time I was made
aware of the changeable character of the climate in this latitude. The
weather, thus far, had been remarkably clear and fine, and at noon we
found the weather sometimes oppressively warm. Toward night the wind
veered around to the northwest, and grew colder. At nightfall, when we
kindled our fire, the air was so chilly and cutting that Nat and I
were in a shiver. Had it not been for our blankets we should have
suffered considerably, though Biddon did not call his into
requisition. There were a number of cottonwood trees near at hand,
which served partly to screen us from the blast.
After our evening meal had been cooked, Biddon remarked:
“The fire must go out, boys.”
“Why? Do you apprehend danger?” I asked.
“Don’t know as I do; I hain’t seed signs, but we’re gittin’ into parts
whar we’ve got to be summat skeerish.”
“I suppose it’s about time for the Indians to come?” remarked Nat
interrogatively, with a look of fear toward the trapper.
“They’re ’bout these parts. Me’n Jack Javin once got into a scrimmage
yer with ’em, when we didn’t ’spect it, and jist ’cause we let our
fire burn while we snoozed. I’d seen sign though then, and wanted to
put it out, but he wan’t afeared.”
“Let’s have ours out then,” exclaimed Nat excitedly, springing up and
scattering the brands around.
“Needn’t mind ’bout that; it’ll go out soon enough.”
As Nat reseated himself, Biddon continued:
“You see, Jarsey, them reds kin smell a white man’s fire a good way
off, and on sich a night as this, ef they’re ’bout they’ll be bound to
give him a call. You needn’t be afeared, howsumever, to snooze, ’cause
they won’t be ’bout.”
It was too cold to enjoy our pipes, and we all bundled up for the
night’s rest. In a few moments I heard the trapper’s deep breathing,
and shortly after Nat joined him in sleep. But I found it impossible
to get to sleep myself. The ground was so cold that my blanket could
not protect me, and the cutting wind was terrible. I used every means
that I could devise, but it was of no use, and I feared I should be
compelled to either build the fire again, or to continue walking all
night to prevent freezing to death.
I chose the latter expedient. It was quite dark, yet I had noticed our
situation well enough, I judged, not to lose it. So grasping my
blanket in my hand, I started on a rapid run directly over the
prairie. I continued a long distance, until pretty well exhausted. I
turned to retrace my steps. My blood was warming with the exercise,
and I hurried forward, counting upon sound sleep for the remainder of
the night.
I continued my run for a full half hour, and then stopped in
amazement, as I saw no signs of my companions. Thinking I must have
passed the spot where they were lying, I carefully walked back again,
but still without discovering the men. I had lost them in the
darkness, and it was useless to hunt them at night. So I concluded to
wait till morning, feeling sure that they could be at no great
distance. I now commenced searching for a suitable place for myself,
and at last hit upon a small depression in the prairie. There was a
large stone imbedded in the earth on one side, which served to protect
me from the chilling wind. As I nestled down, beside this, such a
feeling of warmth and comfort came over me that I congratulated myself
upon what at first seemed a misfortune.
Lying thus, just on the verge of sleep, my nerves painfully alive to
the slightest sound, I suddenly felt a trembling of the ground. At
first it seemed a dream; but, as I became fully awake, I started in
terror and listened. I raised my head, but heard no sound, and still
in the most perplexing wonder sank down again, hoping it would shortly
cease. But there was a steady, regular increase, and presently I
distinguished millions of faint tremblings, like the distant
mutterings of thunder. Gradually these grew plainer and more distinct,
and finally I could distinguish sounds like the tread of innumerable
feet upon the prairie. Still at a loss to account for this strange
occurrence, I listened, every nerve in my body strung to its highest
tension. Still louder and louder grew the approaching thunder, and
every second the jar of the earth became more perceptible. Suddenly
the truth flashed upon me--_a herd of buffaloes were approaching_.
Terror for an instant held me dumb when I realized this awful danger.
My first resolve was to rush forth and warn Nat and Biddon; but I
reflected that they must have been awakened, ere this, and that I
could do nothing to ward off the peril which threatened all alike.
Springing to my feet, I paused a second to collect my tumultuous
thoughts. Could I reach the timber, I could ascend a tree and be
beyond danger; but I knew not what direction to take, and there was no
time to spare. To remain still was to be trampled to death; to rush
away could save me but a few moments longer. God of heaven! what a
death!
Louder and louder grew the thundering tread of the animals, and I
stood like a madman, the cold sweat pouring off me, tormented by a
thousand agonizing thoughts, and expecting death each moment! Nearer
and nearer came the rattle of the clamping hoofs, and I stood rooted
to the spot!
Sinking on my knees, I implored mercy of the One who could give it in
this moment of dire necessity; and while on my knees the means of
preservation presented itself.
“Strange!” I exclaimed, breathing deeply, “that I did not think of it
before.”
I have said that I was in a sort of depression or hollow in the earth,
and that a large stone was imbedded on one side. Now a safer and more
secure shelter could not have been found in this emergency. I wrapped
my blanket around me, and crept as far beneath it as I could, and I
was saved!
A few minutes later, and a dark body plunged headlong over me with the
rapidity of lightning, followed instantly by another and another, and
I knew the herd were thundering past. For a long time I lay there,
beneath these thousands of feet, one of which would have been
sufficient to kill me. The incessant crackling of their hoofs, and
rattling of their horns, sounded like the discharge of musketry. Once
a ponderous body tumbled over the rock which sheltered me, and I
caught sight of a dark, writhing, bellowing mass, and the next instant
it regained its feet and disappeared.
It must have been an hour that I lay here, ere the last animal leaped
over me. Then I looked up and saw the stars shining overhead. My joy
at the sight of those glittering orbs cannot be expressed. I arose to
my feet, and looked about me. It was too dark to discern objects, yet
I could hear the rapidly retreating footfalls of the herd in the
distance, and I knew I had been saved from a frightful death. Sinking
to the earth I offered a sincere prayer of gratitude to the Almighty
for his miraculous preservation of my life!