THE BUFFALO HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
During my captivity among the Indians, as stated in the last chapter,
there was considerable suffering on account of the scarcity of food.
The country to the north of Nebraska is the paradise of all species of
game in the summer months, but during the winter the large animals
proceed to the southward, and the deep snows prevent the capture of
the smaller ones, except by means of traps. Spring, therefore, was
looked forward to with eager expectation, as the harbinger of
enjoyment and the season of the chase.
And it came at last. First, the sun grew hotter and blazed more
fiercely; the snow became damp and cloggy, and the dripping of water
could be heard through the day and night. Snow-shoe traveling was now
nearly impossible, as long as the thaw continued. Huge streams of
melted snow poured into the rivers all along the banks, and the ice
became weaker and weaker each moment, till, at last, with a terrific
crashing and thundering, the whole mass started, and, a week after,
the clear, blue running water only was seen. The thaw continued, until
at last all the snow had disappeared, and with feelings of
indescribable joy, we once more saw the face of the earth. Vegetation
now commenced with surprising growth, and, in an almost incredible
short space of time, bright, radiant, glorious spring held indisputed
reign. Indians were departing and arriving every day with loads of
fish, wild fowl, and game, and the village was a scene of unbridled
feasting for many a day.
One forenoon, a savage, who had been absent a day or two, announced
that a herd of buffaloes were quietly browsing a few miles to the
southward. This produced violent commotion throughout the village, and
preparations were at once made for the grand hunt. Some twenty or
thirty splendid Indian ponies were mounted by as many warriors, and,
to my inexpressible delight, Jim informed me that I should accompany
them. A small, high-spirited animal was given me as my charger. He was
of a dark color, and his dappled haunches glistened in the sun like
polished ebony.
About noon we sallied forth from the village, and struck a southward
direction, restraining our animals to a walk, in order to preserve
their wind for the severe test at hand. While riding along by the
side of Jim, the thought of escape--which had not been absent from me
for the last six months--came with double force. I was now mounted
upon a fleet, long-winded animal, who could hold his own with any
horse bestrode by the Indians, and what was to prevent my escape? In
the bewilderment and excitement of the chase, I might wander miles
away, and be gone many hours, without exciting suspicion. My captors,
I suppose, had no thoughts of my attempting a flight, as I had
permitted so many opportunities to pass, and I felt there would be no
suspicious eyes watching my motions. The prairie stretched hundreds of
miles to the southward, and it seemed my animal longed to bound away
upon it. At any rate, I felt the time had come, and resolved that I
should never return to the Indian village a captive.
An hour or so after, we came in sight of the drove, cropping the new
grass of the prairie. So numerous were they, that, as we looked over
them, it was impossible to see their extent. Far away, until they
touched the horizon, the ocean of dark, swarming bodies could be seen.
Our animals now partook of the excitement of their masters. Arching
their necks, they scented the prey afar, and it was nearly impossible
to restrain their impatience. They snorted, and plunged, champed
their bits, and shook their heads, and seemed determined to rush
forward despite all restraint.
[Illustration: “Setting up a wild yell, the Indians scattered and
plunged after them.”]
We continued stealthily approaching in a body, preserving strict
silence, in order not to alarm the game. In this way, we came within a
hundred yards, when a bull raised his alarmed gaze at us, and, giving
a loud snort, heaved his huge body round, and plunged madly into the
herd. All took the alarm, and went thundering away, making the earth
tremble with their multitudinous tread.
It was now wholly useless to undertake to check our animals longer,
and, setting up a wild yell, the Indians scattered and plunged after
them. The buffalo is not a runner, and, owing to the shortness of his
fore-legs, appears to roll in his gait. The Indians’ horses soon bring
their riders alongside the bisons, and as soon as the shot is given,
they shy off to avoid the infuriated animal’s horns. Before I was
prepared for it, my animal was abreast of a buffalo, and waiting for
my shot. Here I committed a blunder common to all beginners of the
hunt. I fired while holding the reins in my hands. The consequence
was, my bullet struck the animal somewhere about the head, got
entangled in his mane, where it would drop out in a day or two. My
horse immediately veered to one side, and allowed the buffalo to run
until I could reload. I now saw my beast knew more of the chase than I
did, and dropping the rein upon his neck, allowed him full freedom.
Cautiously, but rapidly, he came alongside the plunging buffalo, and
taking more care, I sent a bullet through the fore part of his body.
It was his death-wound; and, seemingly conscious of his fate, and
determined on revenge, he wheeled instantly round, drove his fore-feet
into the ground, and dropped his head to rip up my charger. This
movement was so sudden, and we were so close upon him, that my horse
could neither check his speed nor turn to one side. But he avoided him
for all that. Dropping upon his haunches with a snort, he made a
terrific bound upward and went clean over the buffalo. The maddened
animal expected this, and plunged his horns upward at him, expecting
to still kill him. The instinct of the horse was too much, however;
he, too, feared such a fate, and leaped high enough to avoid him. As
he came to the earth again, he plunged swiftly away, the enraged
buffalo in full pursuit; but he easily kept clear from him, wheeling
and dodging, and still remaining nigh enough for me to give my shot.
My gun was unloaded, and before I could charge it, the buffalo had
fallen to the earth and was fast dying.
I now looked about me. Buffaloes were flying in every direction, and
the forms of the savages could be seen darting to and fro among them,
dealing death and destruction at every turn. The main herd was pouring
simultaneously southward, while the scores which had been cut off,
were endeavoring to rejoin them, carrying us along with them. In
different parts of the prairie could be seen the dark, motionless
forms of the slain buffaloes, showing how successful the chase had
been thus far.
The sky, which in the morning was fair and clear, was now becoming
overcast with heavy clouds, and two or three warning rumbles of
thunder were heard in the distance. Still, the savages were too
excited to notice the interruption, as long as a single buffalo
remained. I saw Jim plunge his horse unhesitatingly into a crowd of a
dozen or so, when, as he commenced dealing destruction, his horse
became entangled, and he was compelled to make a flying leap over the
backs of the animals around him. This he accomplished successfully,
leaping from one back to the other, until he was clear of them all.
Suddenly, it occurred to me, while holding my fiery horse, that if I
meditated escape it was high time to be about it. Turning to the
southward, I could just descry the drove thundering away, a vast cloud
of dust circling above them. The rein was dropped upon the neck of my
horse, and, stretching out his head, he bounded away like the wind. He
was a noble animal, and was now in his element. He enjoyed the chase
as much as any of the savages; and, as mile after mile of prairie flew
beneath his feet, he was only warming into the excitement. As I looked
back, I could just discern the Indians, like specks in the distance,
still at their bloody work.
We were now at no great distance from the herd, and my horse catching
sight of an old worried bull, somewhat in the rear, instantly made
toward him. He was too jaded to hasten his pace, and I could see his
fury was roused. I prepared to shoot him, as it would go to show my
pursuers, if I should have any, that the excitement of the chase had
alone carried me away. While yet some distance, he shied to one side,
and turned his head warningly toward us, but without halting. The
horse, however, finding that I still restrained my shot, continued to
bring me closer. At last, the bison struck into a swifter run, and
made desperate efforts to rejoin his companions. In an instant I was
beside him, and holding my gun to my shoulder, was just on the point
of firing, when he suddenly stood at bay, in precisely the same manner
as the other. My horse, instead of making a running leap this time,
stopped instantaneously, planting his feet firmly in the ground. I was
not prepared for this, and shot a dozen feet over his head, falling
upon my face within a foot of the buffalo. The shock was terrible, and
I was severely injured. I endeavored to rise, fearing that I should be
gored and trampled to death, but was unable, and heard the buffalo
scampering away. I placed my hand to my face, and found it covered
with blood, and a strange bewilderment was coming over me. I arose to
my knees, and gazed about me. The buffalo was plunging in the rear of
his drove, while my horse was galloping wildly around me, his mane and
bridle flying in the wind. I heard the bursting of thunder overhead,
and everything was growing dark and confused. I tried again to rise,
but failed. There was a thick darkness about me, a heavy hand pressing
me to the earth, and all become chaotic.
When consciousness returned, all was blank darkness. The rain was
pouring down in torrents, and, stunned and bleeding, I lay on the
soaked, cold, spongy earth. Gradually, the remembrance of my
misfortune came over me. I must have been lying several hours upon the
prairie, exposed to the cold, dismal storm. My clothes were saturated
with the chilling rain, and my face and hands bedabbled with mud and
dirt.
I struggled desperately to my feet, and endeavored to pierce the
Stygian gloom around; but it was useless; not the smallest point of
the faintest light could be seen in any direction. Up, down, on every
hand, the same solid walls of darkness enveloped me. I was many miles
from the Indian village, and had lost its direction. At that moment, I
would have given worlds to have been within Jim’s lodge. Flight, in my
present condition, was not to be thought of, and I must soon receive
succor or I should perish.
I listened. In the dismal sweep of the rain something like a footstep
was heard. I called out, but there was no reply. Again the splash of a
foot was heard, now from a different point. Soon I discovered some
animal was walking around me in a circle. Feeling round in the spongy
prairie, I found my rifle, but it was useless as a means of defense,
as the charge was thoroughly wetted. I clubbed it, and waited for the
attack. Still around and around the same step went. At first I fondly
hoped it might be Jim, or one of his companions, but its footfall
showed it to be a quadruped, and its approach was too cautious.
Suddenly it halted and walked directly toward me. I drew my rifle
back, ready to brain it the minute it was within my reach. A faint
neigh was heard--joy inexpressible! it was my faithful horse. As I
called to him, he approached, and lowered his head for me to take his
bridle. With a feeling of deep thankfulness and hope, I clambered into
the saddle, and he bounded away, his unerring instinct leading him
straight toward home.
The rain continued to beat, cold and dismal, and I felt already
burning within me a hot, fiery fever, from the terrible suffering I
had undergone. I should soon be prostrated, and without some kindly
hand to nurse me, would inevitably perish. But the horse was certain;
and, after an hour or two, my heart leaped, as we entered the silent
Indian village. But one light was burning, and that was in the lodge
of Jim, showing that he expected my return. I rode instantly up to the
entrance and dismounted, while my noble horse made off to look out
for himself. Jim arose as he heard my approach, and, lifting his
torch, advanced to meet me.
“You had long hunt--”
He started back in horror at my appearance. Then, holding his light
over his head, and peering at me, he asked:
“What de matter? Been in fight?”
“No; I was thrown from my horse, and lay senseless upon the prairie
until a short time ago. I feel bad, Jim, and fear I am severely
injured,” said I, starting to seat myself.
“Wait minute; am hurt; let me fix ’em.”
He clapped his hands, and instantly the bundle of blankets at the side
of the lodge arose to an upright position, and his squaw walked forth.
My wounds were now dressed, my garments changed for dry ones, and with
a hot cup of drink, I was swathed in blankets, and placed by the fire.
Jim said it was not far from morning, and if at that time I was worse,
he would call in the Medicine Man.
All night the fever burned and raged, and when morning came I was
partially delirious. Jim examined my pulse, shook his head doubtingly,
and departed from the lodge. In a short time he returned, and with him
came the Medicine Man, an Indian considerably advanced in years, and
much loved and honored by his tribe. He, too, looked grave, and held
a consultation in an undertone with Jim. From these signs, I knew I
was dangerously, probably fatally injured.
And now came days of those strange, indescribable visions that come
over one in high fever. I was in all imaginable places, and saw
wonderful persons and scenes. Now and then, there were moments when
reason flitted to its throne. At such times I saw the Medicine Man or
Jim near me; and once, as I wonderingly opened my eyes, I saw the
mysterious captive bending over me. I looked straight into her dark,
liquid eyes, and reached forth and touched her garment, to satisfy
myself that it was no freak of mind. My fixed stare alarmed her, and
she looked inquiringly at the Medicine Man. He mumbled something, and
she departed.
About a week after my accident, as I subsequently learned, I awoke
with my full reason. As I looked wonderingly about me, the first
object that encountered my eyes was the captive to whom I have
alluded. My fixed stare at her seemed to alarm her, and she arose to
pass out.
“Wait,” said I; “pray do not leave me.”
“But you should not talk,” she replied, much agitated; “the Medicine
Man would not allow it; you will surely injure yourself.”
“You and the Medicine Man are both mistaken, if he thinks thus. I know
I have been sick and delirious, but my mind was never clearer than it
is this instant, and I know a few moments’ conversation cannot injure
me. Let me beg you not to refuse me this, as I cannot tell whether the
opportunity will ever again be offered.”
The being before me was much embarrassed, and for a moment hesitated,
seemingly in doubt between duty and inclination. Seizing the
opportunity, I urged my wish with greater fervor than ever. Finally
she glanced furtively around, as though she expected to meet the
twinkling orbs of the Medicine Man, and then answered:
“I cannot refuse your request, and yet it seems wrong that I should
thus disobey the injunctions that were given for your good. What is it
that you wish to ask me?”
“Am I out of danger?”
“Not yet. You have been crazy for a long time, and more than once the
Medicine Man has shaken his head in doubt when he looked upon you.”
“Have you not watched by me nearly all the time I have been thus?” I
gazed full in her face as I uttered this question, and she dropped her
eyes in confusion, as she replied:
“I have assisted the Medicine Man several times as he wished me to,
and I have done no more to you than I would to any one in similar
circumstances.”
“No, sweet being, I know you haven’t,” I exclaimed, in admiration;
“your heart is open to any one. Who you are I know not, but I can see
your race is similar to my own, and judge you to be a willing prisoner
among these Indians. Your image has long been before me, and I can
never forget your fair, angelic face. What first was merely _interest_
upon my part, has grown into a stronger passion for you, though I
fear--”
I paused as she suddenly arose to her feet, and raised her hand in a
warning manner. Before I could ask the meaning of this, a shuffling
step was heard, and the next minute the Medicine Man made his
appearance. He gesticulated angrily toward her, and she passed quietly
out of the lodge. I followed her with my eyes, and as she reached the
passage way, she turned toward me with a look that told more than
words.
The Medicine Man evidently suspected what I had been doing; for I
could see he was excited, and mumbled continually to himself. He
forced a bitter, scalding drink into my mouth, which was soothing in
its effects, and in a short time I slept.
Now comes a long blank in my memory. After this incident, black night
shut around my mind. There is a faint recollection of again seeing
Jim and the Medicine Man bending over me, and the sweet pale face of
the fair captive, and then again came utter oblivion.