We found Ike and Redwood bitterly angry at the bull they had slain.
They alleged that he had made a rush at them in coming up, and that was
why they had risen to their feet and fired upon him. We thought such
had been the case, as we had noticed a strange manoeuvre on the part of
the bull. But for that, our guides believed they would have succeeded
to their hearts' content; as they intended first to have shot the other
bull, and then the cows would have remained until all had fallen.
A place was now selected for our night-camp, and the meat from the cows
brought in and dressed. Over a fire of cotton-wood logs we soon cooked
the most splendid supper we had eaten for a long time.
The beef of the wild buffalo-cow is far superior to that of domestic
cattle, but the "tit-bits" of the same animal are luxuries never to be
forgotten. Whether it be that a prairie appetite lends something to the
relish is a question. This I will not venture to deny; but certainly
the "baron of beef" in merry old England has no souvenirs to me so sweet
as a roast rib of "fat cow," cooked over a cotton-wood fire, and eaten
in the open air, under the pure sky of the prairies.
The place where we had pitched our camp was upon the banks of a very
small spring-stream, or creek, that, rising near at hand, meandered
through the prairie to a not distant branch of the Arkansas River.
Where we were, this creek was embanked very slightly; but, at about two
hundred yards' distance, on each side, there was a range of bluffs that
followed the direction of the stream. These bluffs were not very high,
but sufficiently so to prevent any one down in the creek bottom from
having a view of the prairie level. As the bottom itself was covered
with very coarse herbage, and as a better grass--the buffalo--grew on
the prairie above, we there picketed our horses, intending to bring them
closer to the camp when night set in, or before going to sleep. The
camp itself--that is the two tents, with Jake's waggon--were on the very
edge of the stream; but Jake's mules were up on the plain, along with
the rest of the _cavallada_.
It was still two hours before sunset. We had made our dinner, and,
satisfied with the day's sport, were enjoying ourselves with a little
brandy, that still held out in our good-sized keg, and a smoke. We had
reviewed the incidents of the day, and were laying out our plans for the
morrow. We were admonished by the coldness of the evening that winter
was not far off, and we all agreed that another week was as long as we
could safely remain upon the prairies. We had started late in the
season, but our not finding the buffalo farther to the east had made a
great inroad upon our time, and spoiled all our calculations. Now that
we had found them, a week was as much as we could allow for their hunt.
Already frost appeared in the night hours, and made us uncomfortable
enough, and we knew that in the prairie region the transition from
autumn to winter is often sudden and unexpected.
The oldest and wisest of the party were of the opinion that we should
not delay our return longer than a week, and the others assented to it.
The guides gave the same advice, although these cared little about
wintering on the prairie, and were willing to remain as long as we
pleased. We knew, however, that the hardships to which we should be
subjected would not be relished by several of the party, and it would be
better for all to get back to the settlements before the setting in of
severe weather.
I have said we were all in high spirits. A week's hunting, with
something to do at it every day, would satisfy us. We should do immense
slaughter on the buffalo, by approaching, running, and surrounding them.
We should collect a quantity of the best meat, jerk and dry it over the
fire, load our waggon with that, and with a large number of robes and
horns as trophies, should go back in triumph to the settlements. Such
were our pleasant anticipations.
I am sorry to say that these anticipations were never realised--not one
of them. When we reached the nearest settlement, which happened, about
six weeks after, our party presented an appearance that differed as much
from a triumphal procession as could well be imagined. One and all of
us were afoot. One and all of us--even to the fat little doctor--were
emaciated, ragged, foot-sore, frost-bitten, and little better than half
alive. We had a number of buffalo-skins with us it is true, but these
hung about our shoulders, and were for use, and not show. They had
served us for weeks for beds and blankets by night, and for great coats
under the fierce winter rains. But I anticipate. Let us return to our
camp on the little creek.
I have said that we sat around the blazing fire discussing our future
plans, and enjoying the future by anticipation. The hours passed
rapidly on, and while thus engaged night came down upon us.
At this time some one advised that we should bring up the horses, but
another said it would be as well to let them browse a while longer, as
the grass where they were was good, and they had been for some days on
short commons. "They will be safe enough," said this speaker. "We have
seen no Indian sign, or if any of you think there is danger, let some
one go up to the bluff, but by all means let the poor brutes have a good
meal of it."
This proposal was accepted. Lanty was despatched to stand guard over
the horses, while the rest of us remained by the fire conversing as
before.
The Irishman could scarcely have had time to get among the animals, when
our ears were saluted by a medley of sounds that sent the blood to our
hearts, and caused us to leap simultaneously from the fire.
The yells of Indians were easily understood, even by the "greenest" of
our party, and these, mingled with the neighing of horses, the prancing
of hoofs, and the shouts of our guard, were the sounds that readied us.
"Injuns, by God!" cried Ike, springing up, and clutching his long rifle.
This wild exclamation was echoed by more than one, as each leaped back
from the fire and ran to his gun.
In a few seconds we had cleared the brushwood that thickly covered the
bottom, and climbed out on the bluff. Here we were met by the terrified
guard, who was running back at the top of his speed, and bellowing at
the top of his voice.
"Och, murther!" cried he, "the savage bastes--there's a thousand ov
thim! They've carried off the cattle--every leg--mules an' all, by
Jaysus!"
Rough as was this announcement, we soon became satisfied that it was but
too true. On reaching the place where the _cavallada_ had been
picketed, we found not the semblance of a horse. Even the pins were
drawn, and the _lazoes_ taken along. Far off on the prairie we could
discern dimly a dark mass of mounted men, and we could plainly hear
their triumphant shouts and laughter, as they disappeared in the
distance!
We never saw either them or our horses again.
They were a party of Pawnees, as we afterwards learned, and no doubt had
they attacked us, we should have suffered severely; but there were only
a few of them, and they were satisfied with plundering us of our horses.
It is just possible that after securing them they might have returned
to attack us, had not Lanty surprised them at their work. After the
alarm they knew we would be on the look-out for them, and therefore were
contented to carry off our animals.
It is difficult to explain the change that thus so suddenly occurred in
our feelings and circumstances. The prospect before us--thus set afoot
upon the prairie at such a distance from the settlements, and at such a
season--was perfectly appalling. We should have to walk every inch of
the way--carry our food, and everything else, upon our backs. Perhaps
we might not be too much burdened with food. That depended upon very
precarious circumstances--upon our hunting luck. Our "stock" in the
waggon was reduced to only a few days' rations, and of course would go
but a few days with us, while we had many to provide for.
These thoughts were after-reflections--thoughts of the next morning.
During that night we thought only of the Indians, for of course we did
not as yet believe they had left us for good. We did not return to
sleep by the fire--that would have been very foolishness. Some went
back to get their arms in order, and then returning we all lay along the
edge of the bluff, where the path led into the bottom, and watched the
prairie until the morning. We lay in silence, or only muttering our
thoughts to one another.
I have said until the morning. That is not strictly true, for before
the morning that succeeded that _noche triste_ broke upon us, another
cruel misfortune befel us, which still farther narrowed the
circumstances that surrounded us. I have already stated that the
herbage of the creek bottom was coarse. It consisted of long grass,
interspersed with briars and bunches of wild pea vines, with here and
there a growth of scrubby wood. It was difficult to get through it,
except by paths made by the buffalo and other animals. At this season
of the year the thick growth of annuals was now a mass of withered
stems, parched by the hot suns of autumn until they were as dry as
tinder.
While engaged in our anxious vigil upon the plain above, we had not
given a thought either to our camp or the large fire we had left there.
All at once our attention was directed to the latter by a loud crackling
noise that sounded in our ears. We sprang to our feet, and looked into
the valley behind us. The camp was on fire!
The brush was kindled all around it, and blazed to the height of several
feet. We could see the blaze reflected from the white canvas both of
waggon and tents, and in a few seconds these were licked into the hot
flames, and disappeared from our view.
Of course we made no effort to save them. That would have been an idle
and foolish attempt. We could not have approached the spot, without the
almost certain danger of death. Already while we gazed, the fire spread
over the whole creek bottom, and passed rapidly both up and down the
banks of the stream.
For ourselves there was no danger. We were up on the open prairie
covered only with short grass. Had this caught also, we knew how to
save ourselves; but the upper level, separated by a steep bluff, was not
reached by the conflagration that raged so fiercely below.
We stood watching the flames for a long while, until daylight broke.
The bottom, near where we were, had ceased to burn, and now lay beneath
us, smoking, smouldering, and black. We descended, and picked our steps
to where our camp had stood. The tents were like black cerements. The
iron work of the waggon alone remained, our extra clothing and
provisions were all consumed. Even the produce of our yesterday's hunt
lay among the ashes a charred and ruined mass!