THE LIFE OF LAURENCE AMONG THE INDIANS--SHOOTING THE BUFFALO--THE
HUNTERS' CAMP AND FEAST--LAURENCE IN THE WOOD--THE SIOUX HUNTERS SHOT BY
CREES--LAURENCE LIES CONCEALED--HIS FIRST PRAYER--PASSES A FEARFUL
NIGHT--HIS ENCAMPMENT ATTACKED BY WOLVES--JOURNEY OVER THE SNOW--FALLS
INTO A SNOW-DRIFT.
Laurence was once more with his Indian friends. They were delighted
with the presents they had received, and he found himself treated with
respect and attention by all the tribe. A horse and arms were provided
for him; he was clothed in a dress of skins, ornamented with feathers
and beads, and was looked upon as the son of their chief. Still he
could not forget the kindness he had received at the fort, and he very
often regretted that he had been persuaded by the Sioux to abandon his
white friends. Mr Ramsay would, he knew, inform his father where he
had gone, should he return to the fort. He sometimes hoped that the old
trapper would come and claim him, although the life he was compelled to
lead with him was even harder and more full of danger than his present
existence with the Sioux.
The tribe had moved to a considerable distance from the fort, where they
again took up their winter quarters. Hence they sent out parties of
hunters to capture buffalo, which, in small herds, pasture, even while
the snow lies on the ground, by digging beneath it to reach the dry
grass. Laurence, whose mind was ill at ease, endeavoured to banish
thought by joining on every opportunity these expeditions. They were,
he knew, full of danger. Sometimes the powerful buffalo would turn on
their assailants, and broken limbs and wounds, and not unfrequently
death, was the consequence. Snow storms might come on, and before the
shelter of a wood could be gained horses and men might be overwhelmed.
They were also on the borders of the country of the Crees, the deadly
enemies of the Sioux, who would without fail put to death any who might
fall into their hands. In the summer, when large herds of buffaloes
appear, the hunters, on swift horses, and armed with rifle, or bows and
sharp arrows, gallop fearlessly in among them, shooting them down, again
managing dexterously to extricate themselves from amid the concourse of
animals. Sometimes also a large enclosure is formed with a narrow
entrance, and having a road lined with trees leading to it, broad at the
outer end, and gradually decreasing in width towards the mouth of the
pound. The hunters, forming a wide semicircle in the distance, drive
the animals towards it, while people with flags stationed on either side
of the road prevent the buffalo breaking through, which are thus induced
to rush on till they become entrapped in the pound, where they are shot
down with bullets or arrows. In the winter, however, buffaloes can only
be approached by stalking, the hunter creeping cautiously on till he
gets within range of his victim. Sometimes also a cruel stratagem is
employed.
Laurence had gone out with three hunters on horseback. They had
proceeded a considerable distance without meeting any animals; still,
eager to obtain some meat, of which the camp was greatly in want, they
pushed onwards. At length they descried, in the far distance to the
north, several buffalo feeding near the banks of a broad stream. As
they approached, they discovered that they were cows, and had two young
buffaloes among them. The wary animals had espied them, and were making
slowly off. Each of the hunters carried on his saddle the skin of an
animal with the hair on. Laurence had that of a young buffalo calf, as
also had one of the others, while the remaining two were provided with
skins of wolves. Securing their horses to some trees near the banks of
the river, the hunters covered their backs with the skins. Trailing
their rifles along the ground, Laurence and his companion with the calf
skin cautiously crept towards the buffalo, while the men in wolves'
clothing followed at a distance. As they advanced, the animals stopped
to watch them, uncertain what they were. Thus they were enabled to make
their way towards the generally cautious monsters of the prairie. The
seeming wolves now crept on at faster speed, when the buffaloes,
believing that some of their young were in danger of destruction from
the savage foes they were accustomed to dread, dashed forward to rescue
them. The wolves now hastened on, and made as if they were about to
spring on the calves. As the buffaloes rushed up, the hunters sprang to
their feet, and firing at the heads of the confiding and faithful
animals, brought three of them to the ground. The rest, astonished at
finding themselves face to face with human foes, turning round,
bellowing with rage, galloped away. The unfortunate animals were
quickly despatched with the hunters' knives. The bodies were then
dragged by the horses to the wood which bordered the stream. As much of
the meat as the horses could carry was then packed, ready to be
transported to the camp the following morning, while the remainder was
hung up on the higher branches of the neighbouring trees. The hunters
next lighted a fire, putting up a screen of birch bark to keep off the
wind, while they sat down to regale themselves on the humps and other
prize portions of the animals. Here, while their horses were left to
pick up their food from beneath the snow, the hardy hunters purposed,
without seek any other shelter, to pass the night.
The sky had been for some time overcast, and snow began to fall heavily;
but their fire blazed up brightly, and as they sat close round it,
enjoying its warmth, they cared little for the thick flakes which passed
by them. Steak after steak of the buffalo meat disappeared, as they sat
eating and boasting of their deeds of war and the chase, and fully
giving themselves up to savage enjoyment.
Laurence listened to their tales, wondering whether he should ever
perform similar brave deeds. Unaccustomed for so long to the ways of
his wild companions, he had soon satisfied his hunger, and in spite of
the fire, feeling the cold severely, he had gone a short distance into
the wood to bring some large pieces of birch-bark with which he could
form an additional shelter for himself, by putting up a small wigwam.
Having found the pieces of bark, he was on the point of returning when
the sharp report of several rifles rang through the air, and looking
towards the fire, he saw two of his companions stretched on the ground,
while the other was in vain struggling to rise. A fierce yell followed,
and directly afterwards the light of the fire fell on a party of Cree
warriors, who came springing out of the darkness towards the spot. He
stopped to see no more, but, urged by the instinct of self-preservation,
he made his way through the wood till he reached a thick mass of bushes,
into the midst of which he threw himself, in the hopes that he might
escape the search of the savages. He lay there, expecting every instant
to be discovered, and put to death. He could hear the shouts of the
victors as they hastily partook of the feast prepared by those they had
slaughtered, and having caught their horses, loaded them with the
buffalo meat. He judged by the sounds of their voices that his enemies
were moving from the spot; and as they got further and further away, he
began to entertain the hope of escape. Still fearing that they might
come back, he dared not move. He felt very cold and wretched, yet the
horror of the scene he had witnessed kept him from going to sleep. Poor
Laurence, as he lay there almost frozen to death, not for the first time
perhaps repented of his folly in having quitted the protection of his
kind friends in the fort. The recollection, too, of the many things
Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie had said to him came back to his mind.
"I wonder if I was to pray to the great God they told me of, He would
take care of me, and lead me back to them," he thought. "They told me
He hears prayers, and would listen to those which so careless and
foolish a boy as I have been may make to Him; but then they said I must
pray through Jesus Christ; that He is good and merciful, and loves me,
and died for me too. I am sure they spoke the truth, for they would not
deceive me; and so I'll pray through Jesus Christ, and ask God to
protect me; for I am sure I shall never get back to the camp of the
Sioux by myself without my horse, and that, of course, the Crees have
carried off."
Poor Laurence did pray with all his heart, ignorant half-heathen that he
was in many respects.
He soon fell asleep, and the snow came down and nearly covered up the
bushes among which he lay. He awoke at length, finding a thick canopy
over him, which, had he not been well clothed in furs, would probably
have formed his shroud. He easily made his way out.
The spot where the fire had been was covered with snow. He could
distinguish the bodies of his companions beneath it, but he dared not
disturb them. Some of the buffalo meat which the Crees had not
discovered still hung on the trees; he loaded himself with as much as he
could carry, and then hastened away from the fatal spot. At first he
thought of attempting to reach the camp of the Sioux, but it was a long
distance off, and all the tracks had disappeared. So had those of the
Crees. Should they be on the watch for their enemies, he would very
probably fall into their hands. Then, again, the desire to be once more
with his friends at the fort came strong upon him; but how could he hope
to reach it across miles and miles of snow? It was somewhere away to
the north-east, that was all he knew; and although the son was gaining
power when the sky was bright, the wind often blew bitterly cold at
night. Yet to stay where he was would be certain death, and so the
hardy boy, making up his mind to try and reach the fort, and trusting to
his strength and courage, began his hazardous journey.
He had lived among the Indians long enough to learn something of their
cunning; and as he went along he stripped off from his dress all the
ornaments and other signs which might show that they had been
manufactured by the Sioux, and hid them away in a hole beneath the snow.
He had a tinder-box and powder-horn in his pouch, so that he was able
to light a fire. As night approached, he made his way towards a wood,
near the bank of a stream, where he could procure fuel. Here he built
himself a hut with birch-bark, banking it up thickly with snow. He had
not forgotten the fate of his companions on the previous night; but he
hoped that the Crees were by this time far away, and he knew that,
without a fire, he should run the risk of being destroyed by wolves
prowling about. He therefore made it inside the hut, where it was also
well sheltered from the wind, and he hoped that the light would not be
seen at a distance; his chief fear was that, should he sleep too long it
might go out. Closing the entrance of his hut with a sheet of bark, he
made up his fire, and sat down to sup on a piece of meat which he cooked
before it. There was but little space in his hut to allow him to go to
sleep without the risk of burning his clothes, though he had drawn
himself as far away from it as he could, and leaned back against the
wall of the hut. Fatigue at length, however, overcame his desire to
keep on the alert.
He was awoke by hearing a wild howling around him: he knew the sound
full well; it was that of a pack of wolves. His fire had almost gone
out; he hurriedly scraped the embers together, and drew in from the
front of the hut some fuel which he had kept in store. The voices of
the wolves came nearer and nearer. He had just time to light a bundle
of sticks when he heard the savage animals close to his hut. He boldly
went out and waved his torch around, shouting and shrieking with all his
might. The wolves, alarmed at the sudden glare of the light and the
sound of a human voice, took to flight. He once more closed the
entrance of his hut and sat down. It did not occur to him that it was
his duty to return thanks to God for his deliverance. He fancied that
it was his cleverness and boldness that had saved him. He had been
ready to ask that unknown Great Spirit to preserve him. How many daily
receive blessings from the Giver of all good, and yet ungratefully
forget to acknowledge them and refuse to do His will!
Fear of the wolves prevented Laurence from sleeping soundly, and he
started up constantly, expecting to hear their savage howlings.
Daylight came at last, and he once more pushed forward over the snow.
He had cooked a piece of buffalo meat, which he ate beneath the shelter
of a bank, when he saw the sun high in the sky. It restored his
strength for a time; but as night again approached he felt far more
weary than on the previous day. He built a hut as before, and lighted a
fire, and scarcely had he eaten his supper before he dropped off to
sleep. He awoke, feeling very cold, though somewhat refreshed; and
great was his surprise to find the sun already high in the sky. He had
been preserved from danger during the hours of darkness; but, alas! he
did not kneel down to pray, but thought only that it was very fortunate
the wolves had not come near him, and he hoped to have the same good
luck, so he called it, the next night.
"I daresay I shall be able to reach the fort, notwithstanding my fears,
in a few days," he said to himself. "I must try to avoid the Crees,
though; but I fancy that I am clever enough to do that."
He trudged bravely on, hour after hour. The sky was clear, and the sun
enabled him to direct his course with tolerable accuracy. Still his
feet, inured though he was to fatigue, felt very weary, and he longed to
arrive at the end of his journey. Sometimes he regretted that he had
not tried to make his way to the Sioux camp; he might have reached it
sooner. No wood was in sight, where he might build his hut and light a
fire as usual for the night. He gnawed, as he walked on, a piece of the
hard frozen meat, a small portion of which now only remained. Still he
was afraid to stop.
A level plain, covered with snow, lay before him; he looked around in
vain for some sheltering hill or wood. The sun was sinking low on his
left. He must try, before darkness set in, to make his way across that
wide plain. He did his utmost to exert his remaining strength.
Darkness at last came on. He fancied he could distinguish a wood and a
range of hills in the distance. He would make a desperate effort to
reach it. Suddenly he found himself sinking in the snow. He struggled
to get out, but sank lower and lower. He had fallen into a gully or
water-course, now filled up by drift-snow. At length, finding his
efforts vain, he gave himself up for lost, every moment expecting that
the snow wreath would overwhelm him. As he lay there, he could see the
stars come out and shine brightly over his head, and thus he knew that
there was an opening above him; but he was afraid to move lest he might
bring the snow down upon his head. Sheltered from the wind, he felt
tolerably warm, and at last, in spite of his perilous position, he fell
fast asleep.