How the Trapper got his Horse.
After supper, the travelers seated themselves around the fire, and the
trappers lighted their pipes. After smoking awhile in silence, old Bob
said:
“As I have told you afore, youngsters, it aint always a easy job to
lasso the king of a drove of wild hosses. The runnin’ we done to-day
arter the gray warn’t nothin’ to what we kalkerlated to do when we
left here; an’ if he hadn’t got into that prairy-dogs’ nest, thar’s no
knowin’ how many miles he would a been from here by this time. When I
war a youngster, I went to the Saskatchewan fur the fust time, with a
party of six trappers--Dick’s ole man war one of ’em--an’, being
keerless, like all young fellers, I soon made away with one of the
best hosses I ever owned. I run him clean blind arter a herd of
buffaler. I soon got another, howsomever, but it warn’t as good a one
as I wanted; an’ I begun to look around to find a critter that suited
me. One day I come acrost a drove of wild hosses, an’, arter foolin’
round them fur awhile, I diskivered that they war led by a
chestnut-colored critter--a purty feller--an’ I made up my mind that
he war just the one I wanted. I had never ketched a wild hoss then,
an’ I had heered enough about them to know that them kings ar’ allers
the best animals in the drove, an’ that it takes a hoss as is a hoss
to keep up with one of ’em. But I could throw the lasso tolible sharp,
an’ war jest ’bout that age when youngsters think they know more’n
any body else on ’arth; so I thought I could ketch him easy. Wal, I
dodged round them till I got within ’bout half a mile of ’em, and then
put out arter the king; but, human natur, how he did run! I follered
him ’bout four mile, and then turned t’ward the camp, thinkin’ that
mebbe thar war a few things I didn’t know nothin’ at all ’bout. Some
days arterward, I seed him ag’in; but he run away from me easy, an’ I
went back to the camp to be laughed at fur my trouble. But I knowed
that I should have plenty of chances to ketch him afore we started fur
hum--we war to stay thar till spring--so I said nothin’, but kept
lookin’ round, an’ every time I seed the chestnut king, me an’ him had
a race.
“I got him at last--not in the way I expected, howsomever--an’, to
make the story plain, I must tell you what happened ’bout three year
afore that.
“I war born on the banks of the Missouri River, ’bout twenty mile from
whar St. Joseph now stands. It war thar my ole man fust larnt me how
to handle a rifle an’ ride a wild mustang. Thar war a fort ’bout a
mile from our cabin, whar the ole man allers went to sell his furs. It
warn’t no ways safe thar, in them days, fur all that country b’longed
to the Injuns, who warn’t very friendly t’ward white settlers. But,
whenever thar war any trouble, we had a safe place to go to, an’ onct,
when I war only twelve year ole, I stood ’side my ole man, in the
fort, an’ helped drive off atween four an’ five hundred red-skins. I
done so well that ole hunters an’ trappers slapped me on the back,
sayin’ that I war a ‘chip o’ the ole block,’ and that I’d be a better
Injun-hunter nor my father some day. This pleased my ole man, an’
when the Injuns had gone, he took me on a trappin’ expedition with
him. Thar war four of us, an’ we war gone all winter. I ketched my
share of the furs, an’ killed two grizzly bars, which war something
for a chap of my years to brag on. Wal, we reached hum in the spring,
an’, arter I had stayed at our cabin two or three days, tellin’ my
mother big stories of what I had seed, an’ what I had done, the ole
man sent me down to the fort to trade off our spelter. I ought to say
that on our way hum we had dodged a large party of Injuns that war on
a scalpin’ expedition. They had been off a fightin’ with another
tribe, an’, havin’ got thrashed, they warn’t in very good humor. I war
afraid they might take it into their heads to visit the country ’round
the fort, an’ massacree the settlers; but the ole man laughed at me,
an’ told me to go ’long ’bout my bisness, an’ sell them furs. So, as I
war sayin’, I sot out fur the fort, an’, while I war makin’ a bargain
with the trader, a trapper came in on a hoss that war a’most ready to
drop, an’ said that the Injuns war strikin’ fur the fort. I don’t
reckon that they intended to come afore night; but this trapper had
got away from ’em, an’, knowin’ that he would alarm the settlers, the
Injuns jest thought they would make a rush, an’ massacree men, women,
an’ children, afore they could reach the fort.
“Wal, I didn’t wait to hear no more; but, grabbin’ up my we’pons,
started fur hum arter the old folks. Purty quick I heered a firm’ an’
yellin’, an’ made up my mind that them as didn’t reach the fort in
less nor ten minits would be goners, sartin, fur the Injuns war
comin’, sure enough. A little further on I met my mother, who told me
that the ole man an’ a few more of the settlers war fightin’ back the
Injuns to give the women an’ young ones time to git safe under kiver.
My mother war a’most too ole to walk so fur, so I took her on my hoss,
and carried her t’wards the fort, intendin’ that as soon as I had seed
her safe I would come back arter the ole man. But jest as I reached
the fort, I heered a loud yellin’ an’ whoopin’, an’, lookin’ back, I
seed the settlers comin’ out of the woods, with the Injuns clost
behind ’em. Thar war, as nigh as I could guess, ’bout two hundred
red-skins, an’ not more’n twenty white fellers; so, in course, thar
warn’t no ’arthly use to think of fightin’ in cl’ar open ground. The
settlers war comin’ as fast as their hosses could fetch ’em, an’ the
Injuns war clost arter ’em, intendin’ to kill or captur’ ’em all afore
they could reach the fort. I seed the ole man among the settlers, an’
made up my mind that he war safe, fur he rid a good hoss, when, all to
onct, he dropped his rifle, throwed up his hands, an’ fell from his
saddle. The settlers kept on; fur, in course, they couldn’t help him,
an’ the ole man tried to follor ’em; but I seed him pulled down an’
tomahawked, ’bout two hundred yards from the fort, by a young Injun,
whom, from his bar’s claws, an’ other fixins, I tuk to be a chief. My
ole shootin’ iron war good fur that distance, so I drawed up and
blazed away. But my hand trembled, an’ I seed that Injun make off with
the ole man’s scalp. That war a long time ago, youngsters; but I can
see that varlet yet, an’ hear the yell he give as he shook the scalp
at us in the fort, an’ ran back into the woods. Of them twenty men
that war in the fight, ’bout a dozen rode safe into the fort. The
others war massacreed afore our very eyes, an’ we couldn’t help ’em.
“Wal, the Injuns stayed round in the edge of the tim’er fur ’bout two
hours, yellin’ an’ firm’ at us; but, knowin’ that they could not take
the fort--fur they tried that twice--they all set up a yelp an’ put
off, burnin’ every thing as they went. It war a sad day fur that
settlement. Nigh every family war mournin’ fur somebody; but I war
wusser off nor any of ’em. My mother carried a heap of years on her
shoulders, an’ when she seed the ole man pulled down an’ scalped, it
gave her a shock she never got over. We buried them both nigh the
fort, an’ arter stayin’ round fur a week or two, I sot out with a
party of trappers fur our ole huntin’ grounds on the Saskatchewan. I
never forgot that young Injun, an’ all I keered fur or thought ’bout,
war to meet him. I jest knowed that I should find him ag’in some day,
an’ if I had met him among his tribe, with hundreds of his friends
standin’ round, I would have knowed him.
“Wal, as I war sayin’, I sot out with this party of trappers, an’ it
war on the Saskatchewan that I fust diskivered this chestnut king that
I had made up my mind to have. I follered him a’most all winter, an’
the more I seed him run, the more I wanted to ketch him. I ’tended to
my shar’ of the trappin’, but every chance I got I war arter them
hosses. At last they put off somewhar, an’ I never seed ’em ag’in. I
couldn’t think what had ’come on ’em, but I knowed that they had gone
clean out of the country, an’ that I should have to look fur another
hoss, an’ give up all hopes of ketchin’ the chestnut.
“When spring opened, an’ it come good travelin’ we held a council, an’
settled it that we should start fur the fort to onct. We war in a
hurry to get away, too, fur some of our fellers had seen Injun sign
’bout two miles from the camp; so, one mornin’ we sot out to gather up
our traps. I had ’bout five mile to go to reach my trappin’ ground, so
I rode off on a gallop. I went along mighty keerless, fur I didn’t
b’lieve what them fellers had said ’bout seein’ Injun sign, but I soon
larnt that ole trappers never get fooled ’bout sich things. I hadn’t
gone more’n a mile from the camp, when, whizz! something whistled by
my head, an’ went chuck into a tree on the other side of me. It war an
arrer, an’ afore I could look round to see whar it come from, I heered
a yell, an’ the next minit a hoss popped out of the bushes, an’ came
t’wards me. An Injun war on his back, an’ in one hand he carried a
long spear, an’ with the other he held his bow an’ guided his hoss. As
soon as he got cl’ar of the bushes, he p’inted that spear straight at
my breast, an’ came at me, full jump. I war a youngster then. I hadn’t
been in as many rough-an’-tumble fights with wild Injuns as I have
been since, an’ I would have give all the spelter I had trapped that
winter if I had been safe in camp. These war the fust thoughts that
went through my mind. But arter I had tuk jest one good look at the
Injun an’ his hoss, I wouldn’t have been away from thar fur nothin’.
The Injun war the young chief that had rubbed out my ole man, an’ the
hoss war the chestnut king--the very one I had been tryin’ to ketch
fur a’most a year. So, you see, I had two things to work fur. Fust, I
had swore to have that Injun’s scalp; next, I wanted that hoss; an’ I
made up my mind that I wouldn’t leave that ’ar place till I had ’em
both. The young chief war so clost to me that I didn’t have time to
shoot, so I sot still in my saddle, an’ when I seed the p’int of the
spear ’bout two foot from my breast, I stuck out my rifle an’ turned
the we’pon aside. Then, jest as the Injun war goin’ by me, I ketched
him by the scalp-lock, quicker nor lightnin’, an’ pulled him from his
hoss. My own hoss warn’t trained wuth a plug o’ tobacker, an’, skeered
by the fuss, an’ the Injuns yellin’, he give a jump, an’ the fust
thing I knowed, me an’ the young chief war rollin’ on the ground
together. I’ve had one or two wild savages by the top-knot since then,
but I never got hold of a chap of his size that war so strong an’
wiry. When I fust ketched him, I allowed to rub him out easy, fur I
war purty good on a rough-an’-tumble, an’ it warn’t every body that
could take my measure on the ground; but when I ketched that Injun, I
found that I had come acrost a varmint. We fell side by side, I all
the while hangin’ on to his har; but afore I could think whar I war,
or what a doin’, I found the young chief on top of me; an’, both his
hands bein’ free, he commenced feelin’ fur his knife. In course I
couldn’t allow that, so I ketched one of his arms, which he twisted
out of my grasp, as easy as though I had no strength at all. I tried
this two or three times, but findin’ that I couldn’t hold him, I
fastened on his belt which held the knife, an’, with one jerk, tore it
loose, an’ flung it over my head. The Injun, findin’ that his we’pon
war gone, whooped an’ yelled wusser nor ever. We war on even terms
now, fur my knife war under me, an’ neither of us could git at it.
Then I began tryin’ to git him off me; but it war no use, an’ the
Injun findin’ that I breathed hard, held still an’ quiet, hopin’ that
I would soon tire myself out, an’ then he would have no trouble in
gittin’ away from me. But I war layin’ my plans all this while, an’,
watchin’ the Injun clost, I ketched him off his guard, an’ went to
work in ’arnest. By the way that chap kicked an’ yelled, I guess he
thought I had only been foolin’ with him afore, an’ the way he did
fight warn’t a funny thing fur me to think of jest then. But it war no
use. I thrashed around till I got hold of my knife, an’, in a minit
arter that, the young chief had give his last yell. Arter bein’ sartin
that he was done fur, I jumped up an’ run t’wards the mustang, which
had stood a little way off watchin’ the fight, as though he war
wonderin’ who would come out at the top of the heap. I ketched him
easy, an’ arter takin’ the young Injun’s top-knot, I picked up his
we’pons--here’s one of ’em, youngsters.”
As the trapper spoke, he drew his hatchet from his belt and handed it
to Archie, who sat nearest him. The boys remembered that the first
time they met old Bob, they had noticed that his hatchet was different
from any they had ever seen. The blade was long and narrow, and as
keen as a razor. The back part of the hatchet was hollow, as was also
the handle, and thus the weapon could be made to answer the purpose of
a pipe. The handle was also ingeniously carved, but was so worn by
long and constant usage, that the figures upon it could not be
distinguished. The travelers had often noticed that the old trapper
was very particular about his “tomahawk,” as he invariably called it;
but now that they knew its history, they did not wonder that he
considered it worth preserving. When the boys had examined the weapon
to their satisfaction, they returned it to old Bob, who continued:
“Wal, arter I had tuk the young chiefs scalp an’ we’pons, (I had his
knife, too, but I lost that in the Missouri River by bein’ upset in a
canoe,) I jumped on my new hoss, and rode t’wards the camp, leavin’ my
ole mustang to go where he pleased. When I reached our fellers, I
found ’em all busy packin’ up. They had diskivered signs of a large
party of Injuns, an’ they said that the sooner we got away from thar
the better it would be fur us. We traveled all that night an’ all the
next day, an’ got safe off. I had the laugh on my side then, fur ’em
fellers all said I couldn’t never put a bridle on the chestnut king;
an’ when I told ’em my story ’bout the young chief, you ought to seed
them open their eyes. I hadn’t been fooled ’bout the good pints of
that ar’ hoss, fur he war a critter that suited me exactly. He carried
me safe through many a fight with grizzly bars an’ Injuns; but,
finally, I lost him but a few miles from whar I fust seed him--on the
Saskatchewan. I never trapped on that river yet without losin’
somethin’. I have lost two chums thar; throwed away four or five
winter’s work--or jest the same as throwed it away, fur all my furs
war captur’d by the Injuns, an’ thar I lost this hoss.”