_Elk Chase.—Wandering from Party.—Herd of Elk.—Night Camp.—Hill of
Bones.—Racoon.—Indian.—Return to Party.—Wild Horse._
On the morning of the fifth day of our journey, an Otoe Indian, who was
on the look-out, came running to us with the intelligence of a large
_gang_ of elk. All was excitement. The soldiers snatched their yagers;
the Otoes their rifles; the Pawnees strung their bows, drew their arrows
from their quivers, and all hurried after the Indian guide, over the
prairie which had been burnt before us. In ten minutes they reached the
top of a hill, looking down into a deep ravine, about three hundred
yards distant. It was thronged with elk. Some were gamboling about; some
resting amid the high luxuriant grass, which here had escaped the fire.
Others browzing upon the foliage of the vines, which hung in long and
graceful festoons from the dwarf bushes; and some were slaking their
thirst at a limpid brook. But even in these, their moments of greatest
security, their instinctive vigilance was not at rest. For while most
of the herd were frolicking, several, who from their enormous size, and
the unwieldly length of their antlers, appeared to be the oldest in the
gang, had stationed themselves as sentinels, on jutting rocks in the
elevated banks, which commanded an extensive view. There they stood on
the look-out, their heads high in the air, their nostrils expanded to
catch the tainted breeze.
Scarcely had our band paused on the top of the hill, before the eyes
of the watchful sentinels were turned upon them, and a loud snort gave
the signal for a general flight. The bushes and shrubs, snapped and
crashed beneath their rush, as they rolled together in a heavy mass.
Their branching antlers tore through the wild vines; and the whole
herd dashed across the ravine and thundered up the opposite steep.
Large stones and fragments of rock, gave way beneath the tread of the
leaders, and fell bounding among the hindmost. Those in front broke off
large masses of sandy soil from the edge of the banks, and losing their
footing, were whirled back among their companions. Notwithstanding the
confusion, however, half a minute had not elapsed, before the whole herd
had surmounted the steep, and were flying over the prairie, with the
swiftness of a whirlwind.
“No elk meat to-day,” said Rash, (one of the soldiers,) leaning on the
end of his yager, and watching the herd as they swept behind a distant
skirt of trees.
“Ugh!” ejaculated an Otoe, in answer.
“Ugh!” ejaculated half a dozen Pawnees, unstringing their bows, and
turning off towards the camp.
“Ugh! nin-gah om-pah,” (no elk) said Hah-che-kah-sug-hah, shouldering his
rifle and preparing to continue his journey.
I had been in the habit of hunting in company with this Indian, and when
he started forward, instead of returning to the camp with the rest, I
followed him. The deer were abundant in this section of the country, and
our object was game. We commenced a keen search in the hollows, but for a
long time were unsuccessful. At last the guttural “ugh!” from the Indian,
informed me that he saw something: and the next moment he pointed out a
large buck, reclining in a distant hollow. He immediately made for it,
while I seated myself in the grass, to watch his success. After stealing
along several hollows, and keeping among the tall grass, he at last came
upon the animal and fired. The buck started up, staggered a few paces,
then scoured away over the top of the hill. The Indian, after pausing to
reload, followed, and also disappeared. I waited in hopes of hearing the
_whoop!_ which usually followed a successful shot; but all was silent; so
I sauntered slowly along, expecting him to return. Nearly half an hour
had elapsed, when I caught sight of him, standing upon the top of a high
peak, at several miles’ distance. Supposing that he had been led off by
game, I no longer delayed for him, but struck forward, selecting a route
for myself. I had been in the habit of leaving the party at sunrise,
previously ascertaining the direction which they intended to take; then
coming upon their trail during the day, by following it I had always
reached the camp by nightfall. From never failing in this, I had grown
self-confident, and this morning, I had not even inquired their intended
course.
I travelled for many hours; following the hollows, and beating the
tall grass, in hopes of starting a deer; but with the exception of a
few grouse, I met with nothing. I had continued thus unsuccessful till
afternoon, and was sauntering along a high ridge, looking round to see if
I could perceive any trace of the party, when suddenly turning my head,
I caught sight of a number of objects, stringing slowly along the top
of a ridge. At first I was surprised; for I mistook them for a train of
pack-horses; but the next moment undeceived me, and I discovered that I
had come unaware, upon a herd of elk. There were about a dozen of them.
They were as quick-sighted as myself; for at the very moment that my eye
rested upon them, they also detected me. They halted and snuffed the
air; but I was too far off to taint it. So they turned away, and slowly
loitered on. I immediately made for a thicket of brushwood, and beneath
this shelter, rushed swiftly towards them. I had not gone far, however,
when, upon rounding a small point of bushes, I came directly upon another
herd. There must have been more than a hundred in it. Many were lying
upon the ground; some were gamboling and frisking; two or three were
butting each other with their horns; and several wary old fellows were
stationed round as sentinels. I was within a hundred yards of them, so I
fired at a full-grown buck. The bullet struck one of his fore legs, and
he fell. In an instant the whole herd were on their feet, and huddling
together like frightened sheep, they fled over the hills.
I sprang from my hiding place, and drawing my knife, ran towards the
wounded animal; but before I could reach him, he gained his feet, and
hobbled off, at a rate which kept me at the full stretch of my speed. I
then stopped to reload my rifle, and followed expecting every moment to
see him drop. He led me a long chase, over hill and dale, and across
runs of water; until I gave out; and seating myself, saw him hobble out
of sight.
It was now time to look out for the party; a thing which I had totally
forgotten, in the heat of the chase; nor had I taken any note of the
course I was pursuing; so that when my race was ended, I was completely
bewildered. I was within a short distance of a well-wooded stream, and I
suspected that the party would encamp, somewhere upon its banks. I knew
too, that they must be to the westward of me, so I followed the course of
the river.
I travelled till sunset, examining every ridge in the prairie; every bend
in the thicket; but there was no human being to be seen, nor a trail, or
foot print, on the burnt sod, except the hoof marks, where the herd of
elk had passed. I then clambered to the top of a high-peaked hill, which
overlooked the prairie for miles; but all was deserted. I determined,
then to encamp for the night, in the neighbouring piece of wood, and in
the morning to renew my search. At the same time, resolving like most
persons who are in trouble, that if I got safely out of this scrape, I
would take better care when next I hunted alone. I went down into the
woods and built a fire. The night was cold, and bleak. There was no grass
to make a bed; the wolves howled incessantly; and to judge from their
snarling, and yelping at the foot of a tree, a little distance off, I
imagined, that they had pursued some animal, which had taken refuge in
its branches. The night passed away drearily, and with a joyous feeling,
I once more saw the east streaked with the light of dawn.
Before the day had fairly broken, I left the grove, and pursued my course
to the westward, until I again came to a ridge in the prairie. This I
ascended and looked in every direction; but could see nothing. I raised
my voice and gave an Indian hunting whoop, which might have been heard
for a mile. The woods echoed it; but there was no other answer. I wished
to discharge my rifle, in hopes that it might reach the ears of the
party; but I had only a single charge of powder, left in my horn; and
if I should be obliged to journey to the settlements alone, I thought
that this would be too precious to be wasted. So in silence, and with
drooping spirits, I continued my journey along the line of timber. The
sun rose, and gradually ascended in the heavens. A vague doubt began to
steal across my mind; that I had, perhaps, crossed the trail, in the
obscurity of the morning twilight; for I was now much farther to the
west, than I thought it possible, the party could have gone. About a
mile in front of me a long arm of timber jutted out into the prairie. I
made for it, determining if I did not then come upon their trail, that
I would retrace my steps and carefully examine that portion which I
had crossed before daybreak. I reached the timber; but saw no track. I
again whooped; but as before, the echoing forests alone answered me; and
with a sensation of utter loneliness, I turned round and retraced my
steps. It was near mid-day when I reached my last encamping place. I had
carefully noted every mark upon the black sod; I saw my own foot-prints,
where I had struck out into the prairie in the morning; but nothing
else. I then kept on for an hour longer, but my mind was constantly
vascillating—whether to follow my own foot-prints until they guided me to
the camping ground where I had left the party on the day previous, or to
keep on to the eastward until I should reach the Missouri; or once more
to return over the ground which I had just passed.
I remember well the spot where I paused to settle my purpose. It was
a high swell, which commanded a view over miles of prairie, and even
overlooked the top of the lofty trees in the thicket. It was strewed with
bones. For several hundred yards, the whole hill was literally covered
with them. It looked like some deserted charnel; and I recollect even
in the midst of my perplexity, taking up one and examining it—wondering
whether it belonged to man or beast. The place might have been the scene
of a battle; for the bones were so small that they could scarcely be
those of animals. There were no skulls, either of man or brutes, to solve
the mystery; and even the bones were covered with a greenish mould, from
many years’ exposure.
After some consideration, I resolved to retrace my steps, and accordingly
turned down the hill, and once more proceeded on my journey. I now was
growing hungry, and for once felt the miseries of a keen appetite. In
the midst of these cogitations, I caught sight of the head of a racoon,
who was reconnoitering me from behind the stump of a tree; I shot him,
and skinned him; and kindling a fire, cooked part of him on the spot.
The cinders from my fire, caught in a small patch of dry grass, which
had escaped the general burning of the prairie; and in a moment it was
in a blaze—filling the air with a cloud of black smoke. When I finished
my meal, I slung the residue of my prize upon my back, and struck out
into the prairie. I had scarcely done so before I caught sight of an
Indian, standing upon the top of a ridge at some distance. In a moment
after he perceived me, and waved his blanket over his head, to attract my
attention. I raised the Otoe hunting-whoop, and his shout, faint, from
the distance, answered me. I then started for the hill, and the Indian,
seating himself, waited till I came up. He was one of the Otoes who
accompanied us. His Indian name I do not recollect; but when translated
it signified, “_the man that drags his heels_.” It was given him on
account of a shuffling gait, which it was said that he possessed, but
which I could never discover.
We started together, and about a mile beyond the arm of timber where I
had turned back in the morning, we came upon the trail of the party.
Night closed in upon us, long before we reached their camping ground. I
was nearly exhausted; the light racoon, which I carried upon my back,
seemed to grow almost as heavy as a deer. My thirst grew intense; I
stopped to drink at every pool; and kept constantly breaking off the tops
of the rosin weed, and chewing its pitchy sap to keep my mouth moist.
Still the Indian kept on with unwearied steps, sometimes pausing to
listen as a cry sounded through the night air, or turning to point out
the light of a prairie on fire at a distance. He did not slacken his
pace, until with a deep ugh! he pointed out to me the night-fires of our
party, glimmering in a thick grove, on the borders of a brawling stream.
A loud shout, followed by a genuine Indian yell, burst from the lips of
the doctor, when he first caught sight of me. This was followed by a
hearty shake of the hand, and warm congratulations from the commissioner,
and the whole party.
I was afterwards informed, that the Indian who discovered me, had crossed
my track on the day previous; and, upon being told that I had not made my
appearance, he had been induced by the promise of a blanket to set out in
search of me.
I had not been long seated before our fire, when the Wild Horse, dressed
in a pair of white corduroy pantaloons, with the rest of his body
naked, came stalking up to shake hands with me. His object evidently
was to display this new article of dress; which had been presented to
him by the doctor. Although highly delighted, he walked in them, as if
in fetters; for though the doctor had a rotundity of abdomen, which
completely out-measured that of the Indian, yet the other far exceeded
him in the size and length of his lower extremities; and the garment sat
so tight to his legs, that at a little distance he had the appearance
of having been white-washed. He kept about us during the whole evening.
I imagine, however, that in this short space of time he grew completely
tired of his new garb, for the next morning, I saw his son scampering
through the bushes, dressed in the same pair of breeches—though they
were as much too large for him, as they were too small for his father.
He, too, soon wearied of them; and after having once or twice tripped up
his own heels in wearing them, he abandoned them to the wife of the Wild
Horse, who, I believe, from that period “wore the breeches.”