"Come, commarade! It are no use our cryin like a kupple o' squaws."
With his large finger he dashed the tears aside, as if ashamed of having
shed them.
"It are all over now," he continued. "Let's look arter his bones--that
is, if thar's anythin left o' 'em--and gie 'em Christyun burial. Come!"
We caught our horses, and mounting, rode off over the burnt ground.
The hoofs of the animals tossed up the smouldering ashes as we advanced,
the hot red cinders causing them to prance. The smoke pained our eyes,
and prevented us from seeing far ahead; but we guided ourselves as well
as we could towards the point where we had last seen the trapper, and
where we expected to find his remains.
On nearing the spot, our eyes fell upon a dark mass that lay upon the
plain: but it appeared much larger than the body of a man. We could not
make out what it was, until within a few feet of it, and even then it
was difficult to recognise it as the carcass of a buffalo--though truly
in reality it was. It was no doubt the game which the hunter had
killed. It rested as it had fallen--as these animals usually fall--upon
the breast, with legs widely spread, and humped shoulders upward.
We could perceive that the unfortunate man had nearly finished skinning
it--for the hide, parted along the spine, had been removed from the back
and sides, and with the fleshy side turned outward, was hanging to the
ground, so as to conceal the lower half of the carcass. The whole
surface was burnt to the colour of charcoal.
But where were the remains of the hunter? They were nowhere to be seen
near the spot. The smoke had now cleared away sufficiently to enable us
to observe the ground for several hundred yards around us. An object of
small dimensions could have been distinguished upon the now bare
surface; but none was seen. Yes! a mass lay close to the carcass, which
drew our attention for a moment; but on riding up to it we perceived
that it was the stomach and intestines of the buffalo, black and half
broiled.
But where were the bones of Rube? Had he got away from the spot, and
perished elsewhere?
We glanced towards the fire still raging on the distant plain.
No: it was not probable he had moved thence. By the last look we had
obtained of him, he did not appear to be making any effort to escape,
and he could scarcely have gone a hundred yards before the flames swept
over the spot and must have enveloped him.
How then? Were his bones entirely consumed--calcined--reduced to ashes?
The lean, withered, dried-up body of the old mountain-man favoured such
a supposition; and we began seriously to entertain it--for in no other
way could we account for the total absence of all remains!
For some moments we sat in our saddles under the influence of strange
emotions, but without exchanging a word. We scanned the black plain
round and round. The smoke no longer hindered our view of the ground.
In the weed-prairies there is no grassy turf; and the dry herbaceous
stems of the annuals had burned out with the rapidity of blazing flax,
so that nothing was left to cause a smoke. The fire was red or dead in
an instant. We could see clear enough all the surface of the ground,
but nothing that resembled the remains of a human being!
"No," said Garey, with a long-drawn sigh. "Poor Old Rube! The classed
thing has burned him to ashes--bones an all! Thur ain't as much o' 'im
left as 'ud fill a tabacca-pipe!"
"The hell, thur ain't!" replied a voice that caused both of us to start
in our saddles, as if it had been Rube's ghost that addressed us--"the
hell, thur ain't!" repeated the voice, as though it came out of the
ground beneath our feet. "Thur's enough o' Ole Rube left to fill the
stummuk o' this hyur buffler; an by the jumpin Geehosophat, a tight fit
it ur! Wagh! I'm well-nigh sufflocated! Gie's yur claws, Bill, an
pull me out o' this hyur trap!"
To our astonishment the pendent hide of the buffalo was raised by an
invisible hand; and underneath appeared, protruding through a hole in
the side of the carcass, the unmistakable physiognomy of the earless
trapper!
There was something so ludicrous in the apparition, that the sight of
it, combined with the joyful reaction of our feelings, sent both Garey
and myself into convulsions of laughter. The young trapper lay back in
the saddle to give freer play to his lungs; and his loud cachinnations,
varied at intervals by savage yells, caused our horses to dance about as
if they anticipated an onslaught of Indians!
At first I could detect a significant smile at the angles formed by
Rube's thin lips; but this disappeared as the laughter continued too
long for his patience.
"Cuss yur larfin!" cried he at length. "Kum, Billee, boy! Lay holt
hyur, an gi' me a help, or I must wriggle out o' meself. The durned
hole ain't es big es twur when I krep in. Durn it, man, make haste!
I'm better'n half-baked!"
Garey now leaped from his horse, and taking hold of his comrade by the
"claws," drew him out of his singular hiding-place. But the appearance
of the old trapper, as he stood erect--red, reeking, and greasy--was so
supremely ludicrous, that both Garey and I were driven off into a fresh
fit of laughter, which lasted for several minutes.
Rube, once released from his uncomfortable situation, paid not the
slightest attention to our mirth; but stooping down, drew out his long
rifle--from where he had secured it under the hanging skin--and after
having examined the piece, to see that no harm had come to it, he laid
it gently across the horns of the bull. Then taking the bowie from his
belt, he quietly proceeded with the skinning of the buffalo, as if
nothing had happened to interrupt the operation!
Meanwhile Garey and I had laughed ourselves hoarse, and, moreover, were
brimful of curiosity to know the particulars of Rube's adventure; but
for some time he fought shy of our queries, and pretended to be "miffed"
at the manner in which we had _welcomed him to life_ again.
It was all pretence, however, as Garey well knew; and the latter, having
thrust into his comrade's hand the gourd, still containing a small drop
of _aguardiente_, soon conciliated him; and after a little more coaxing,
the old trapper condescended to give us the details of his curious
escapade. Thus ran his narration:--
"Ee wur both o' yur mighty green to think thet arter fightin grizzly bar
an Injun for nigh forty yeern on these hyur parairas, I wur a-gwine to
be rubbed out by a spunk o' fire like thet. Preehaps 'twur nat'ral
enough for the young fellur hyur to take me for a greenhorn--seein as he
oncest tuk me for a _grizzly_. He, he, he--ho, ho, hoo! I say it wur,
an ur nat'ral enough for him to a thort so; but _you_ mout a knowd
better--_you_, Bill Garey, seein as ee oughter knowd _me_.
"Wal!" continued Rube, after another "suck" at the gourd, "when I seed
the weeds afire, I knowd it wa'nt no use makin tracks. Preehaps if I'd
a spied the thing when the bleeze fust broke out, I mout a run for it,
an mout a hed time; but I wur busy skinnin this hyur beest, wi' my head
clost down to the karkidge, an thurfor didn't see nuthin till I heern
the cracklin, an in coorse thur wa'nt the ghost o' a chance to git clur
then. I seed thet at the fust glimp.
"I ain't a-gwine to say I wa'nt skeeart; I wur skeeart an bad skeeart
too. I thort for a spell, I wur boun to _go under_.
"Jest then I sot my eyes upon the burner. I hed got the critter 'bout
half-skinned, as ee see; an the idee kim inter my head, I mout crawl
somehow under, an pull the hide over me. I tried thet plan fust; but I
kudnt git kivered to my saterfaction, an I gin it up.
"A better idee then kim uppermost, an thet wur to clur out the anymal's
inside, an thur _cache_. I reck'n I wa'nt long in cuttin out a wheen o'
the buffer's ribs, an tarin out the guts; an I wa'nt long neyther in
squezzin my karkidge, feet fo'most, through the hole.
"I hedn't need to a been long; it wur a close shave an a tight fit, _it_
wur. Jest as I hed got my head 'bout half through, the bleeze kim
swizzin round, an nearly singed the _ears off me_. He, he, he--ho, ho,
hoo!"
Garey and I joined in the laugh, at what we both knew to be one of Old
Rube's favourite jokes; but Rube himself chuckled so long, that we
became impatient to hear the end of his adventure.
"Well!" interrupted Garey, "consarn your old skin! what next?"
"Wagh!" continued the trapper, "the way thet bleeze did kum wur a
caution to snakes. It roared an screeched, an yowlted, an hissed, an
the weeds crackled like a million o' wagon-whups! I wur like to be
spinicated wi' the smoke; but I contruv to pull down the flap o' hide,
an thet gin me some relief--though I wur well-nigh choked afore I got
the thing fixed. So thur I lay till I heern you fellurs palaverin about
a 'bacca-pipe, and thurfor I knowd the hul thing wur over. Wagh!"
And with this exclamation Rube ended his narration, and once more betook
himself to the butchering of the already half-roasted buffalo.
Garey and I lent a hand; and having cut out the hump-ribs and other
titbits, we returned to the camp. What with broiled hyodons, roast
ribs, tongue, and marrow-bones, we had no reason for that night to be
dissatisfied with the hospitality of the prairies.