_Savage sports--Living cataracts--An alarm--Indians and their
doings--The stampede--Charlie again_.
One day Dick Varley was out on a solitary hunting expedition near the
rocky gorge where his horse had received temporary burial a week or
two before. Crusoe was with him, of course. Dick had tied Charlie to a
tree, and was sunning himself on the edge of a cliff, from the top of
which he had a fine view of the valley and the rugged precipices that
hemmed it in.
Just in front of the spot on which he sat, the precipices on the
opposite side of the gorge rose to a considerable height above him, so
that their ragged outlines were drawn sharply across the clear sky.
Dick was gazing in dreamy silence at the jutting rocks and dark
caverns, and speculating on the probable number of bears that dwelt
there, when a slight degree of restlessness on the part of Crusoe
attracted him.
"What is't, pup?" said he, laying his hand on the dog's broad back.
Crusoe looked the answer, "I don't know, Dick, but it's _something_,
you may depend upon it, else I would not have disturbed you."
Dick lifted his rifle from the ground, and laid it in the hollow of
his left arm.
"There must be something in the wind," remarked Dick.
As wind is known to be composed of two distinct gases, Crusoe felt
perfectly safe in replying "Yes" with his tail. Immediately after he
added, "Hallo! did you hear that?" with his ears.
Dick did hear it, and sprang hastily to his feet, as a sound like, yet
unlike, distant thunder came faintly down upon the breeze. In a few
seconds the sound increased to a roar in which was mingled the wild
cries of men. Neither Dick nor Crusoe moved, for the sounds came from
behind the heights in front of them, and they felt that the only way
to solve the question, "What can the sounds be?" was to wait till the
sounds should solve it themselves.
Suddenly the muffled sounds gave place to the distinct bellowing of
cattle, the clatter of innumerable hoofs, and the yells of savage men,
while at the same moment the edges of the opposite cliffs became alive
with Indians and buffaloes rushing about in frantic haste--the former
almost mad with savage excitement, the latter with blind rage and
terror.
On reaching the edge of the dizzy precipice, the buffaloes turned
abruptly and tossed their ponderous heads as they coursed along the
edge. Yet a few of them, unable to check their headlong course, fell
over, and were dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Such falls, Dick
observed, were hailed with shouts of delight by the Indians, whose
sole object evidently was to enjoy the sport of driving the terrified
animals over the precipice. The wily savages had chosen their ground
well for this purpose.
The cliff immediately opposite to Dick Varley was a huge projection
from the precipice that hemmed in the gorge, a species of cape or
promontory several hundred yards wide at the base, and narrowing
abruptly to a point. The sides of this wedge-shaped projection were
quite perpendicular--indeed, in some places the top overhung the
base--and they were at least three hundred feet high. Broken and
jagged rocks, of that peculiarly chaotic character which probably
suggested the name to this part of the great American chain, projected
from and were scattered all round the cliffs. Over these the Indians,
whose numbers increased every moment, strove to drive the luckless
herd of buffaloes that had chanced to fall in their way. The task was
easy. The unsuspecting animals, of which there were hundreds,
rushed in a dense mass upon the cape referred to. On they came with
irresistible impetuosity, bellowing furiously, while their hoofs
thundered on the turf with the muffled continuous roar of a distant
but mighty cataract; the Indians, meanwhile, urging them on by hideous
yells and frantic gestures.
The advance-guard came bounding madly to the edge of the precipice.
Here they stopped short, and gazed affrighted at the gulf below. It
was but for a moment. The irresistible momentum of the flying mass
behind pushed them over. Down they came, absolutely a living cataract,
upon the rocks below. Some struck on the projecting rocks in the
descent, and their bodies were dashed almost in pieces, while their
blood spurted out in showers. Others leaped from rock to rock with
awful bounds, until, losing their foothold, they fell headlong;
while others descended sheer down into the sweltering mass that lay
shattered at the base of the cliffs.
Dick Varley and his dog remained rooted to the rock, as they gazed at
the sickening sight, as if petrified. Scarce fifty of that noble herd
of buffaloes escaped the awful leap, but they escaped only to fall
before the arrows of their ruthless pursuers. Dick had often heard of
this tendency of the Indians, where buffaloes were very numerous, to
drive them over precipices in mere wanton sport and cruelty, but
he had never seen it until now, and the sight filled his soul with
horror. It was not until the din and tumult of the perishing herd and
the shrill yells of the Indians had almost died away that he turned to
quit the spot. But the instant he did so another shout was raised. The
savages had observed him, and were seen galloping along the cliffs
towards the head of the gorge, with the obvious intention of gaining
the other side and capturing him. Dick sprang on Charlie's back, and
the next instant was flying down the valley towards the camp.
He did not, however, fear being overtaken, for the gorge could not be
crossed, and the way round the head of it was long and rugged; but he
was anxious to alarm the camp as quickly as possible, so that they
might have time to call in the more distant trappers and make
preparations for defence.
"Where away now, youngster?" inquired Cameron, emerging from his tent
as Dick, taking the brook that flowed in front at a flying leap, came
crashing through the bushes into the midst of the fur-packs at full
speed.
"Injuns!" ejaculated Dick, reining up, and vaulting out of the saddle.
"Hundreds of 'em. Fiends incarnate every one!"
"Are they near?"
"Yes; an hour'll bring them down on us. Are Joe and Henri far from
camp to-day?"
"At Ten-mile Creek," replied Cameron with an expression of bitterness,
as he caught up his gun and shouted to several men, who hurried up on
seeing our hero burst into camp.
"Ten-mile Creek!" muttered Dick. "I'll bring 'em in, though," he
continued, glancing at several of the camp horses that grazed close at
hand.
In another moment he was on Charlie's back, the line of one of the
best horses was in his hand, and almost before Cameron knew what he
was about he was flying down the valley like the wind. Charlie often
stretched out at full speed to please his young master, but seldom
had he been urged forward as he was upon this occasion. The led horse
being light and wild, kept well up, and in a marvellously short space
of time they were at Ten-mile Creek.
"Hallo, Dick, wot's to do?" inquired Joe Blunt, who was up to his
knees in the water setting a trap at the moment his friend galloped
up.
"Injuns! Where's Henri?" demanded Dick.
"At the head o' the dam there."
Dick was off in a moment, and almost instantly returned with Henri
galloping beside him.
No word was spoken. In time of action these men did not waste words.
During Dick's momentary absence, Joe Blunt had caught up his rifle and
examined the priming, so that when Dick pulled up beside him he merely
laid his hand on the saddle, saying, "All right!" as he vaulted on
Charlie's back behind his young companion. In another moment they were
away at full speed. The mustang seemed to feel that unwonted exertions
were required of him. Double weighted though he was, he kept well up
with the other horse, and in less than two hours after Dick's leaving
the camp the three hunters came in sight of it.
Meanwhile Cameron had collected nearly all his forces and put his
camp in a state of defence before the Indians arrived, which they did
suddenly, and, as usual, at full gallop, to the amount of at least
two hundred. They did not at first seem disposed to hold friendly
intercourse with the trappers, but assembled in a semicircle round the
camp in a menacing attitude, while one of their chiefs stepped forward
to hold a palaver. For some time the conversation on both sides was
polite enough, but by degrees the Indian chief assumed an imperious
tone, and demanded gifts from the trappers, taking care to enforce
his request by hinting that thousands of his countrymen were not far
distant. Cameron stoutly refused, and the palaver threatened to come
to an abrupt and unpleasant termination just at the time that Dick and
his friends appeared on the scene of action.
The brook was cleared at a bound; the three hunters leaped from their
steeds and sprang to the front with a degree of energy that had a
visible effect on the savages; and Cameron, seizing the moment,
proposed that the two parties should smoke a pipe and hold a council.
The Indians agreed, and in a few minutes they were engaged in animated
and friendly intercourse. The speeches were long, and the compliments
paid on either side were inflated, and, we fear, undeserved; but the
result of the interview was, that Cameron made the Indians a present
of tobacco and a few trinkets, and sent them back to their friends to
tell them that he was willing to trade with them.
Next day the whole tribe arrived in the valley, and pitched their
deerskin tents on the plain opposite to the camp of the white men.
Their numbers far exceeded Cameron's expectation, and it was with some
anxiety that he proceeded to strengthen his fortifications as much as
circumstances and the nature of the ground would admit.
The Indian camp, which numbered upwards of a thousand souls, was
arranged with great regularity, and was divided into three distinct
sections, each section being composed of a separate tribe. The Great
Snake nation at that time embraced three tribes or divisions--namely,
the Shirry-dikas, or dog-eaters; the War-are-ree-kas, or fish-eaters;
and the Banattees, or robbers. These were the most numerous and
powerful Indians on the west side of the Rocky Mountains. The
Shirry-dikas dwelt in the plains, and hunted the buffaloes; dressed
well; were cleanly; rich in horses; bold, independent, and good
warriors. The War-are-ree-kas lived chiefly by fishing, and were found
on the banks of the rivers and lakes throughout the country. They were
more corpulent, slovenly, and indolent than the Shirry-dikas, and more
peaceful. The Banattees, as we have before mentioned, were the robbers
of the mountains. They were a wild and contemptible race, and at
enmity with every one. In summer they went about nearly naked. In
winter they clothed themselves in the skins of rabbits and wolves.
Being excellent mimics, they could imitate the howling of wolves, the
neighing of horses, and the cries of birds, by which means they could
approach travellers, rob them, and then fly to their rocky fastnesses
in the mountains, where pursuit was vain.
Such were the men who now assembled in front of the camp of the
fur-traders, and Cameron soon found that the news of his presence in
the country had spread far and wide among the natives, bringing them
to the neighbourhood of his camp in immense crowds, so that during the
next few days their numbers increased to thousands.
Several long palavers quickly ensued between the red men and the
white, and the two great chiefs who seemed to hold despotic rule
over the assembled tribes were extremely favourable to the idea of
universal peace which was propounded to them. In several set speeches
of great length and very considerable power, these natural orators
explained their willingness to enter into amicable relations with all
the surrounding nations, as well as with the white men.
"But," said Pee-eye-em, the chief of the Shirry-dikas, a man above
six feet high, and of immense muscular strength--"but my tribe cannot
answer for the Banattees, who are robbers, and cannot be punished,
because they dwell in scattered families among the mountains. The
Banattees are bad; they cannot be trusted."
None of the Banattees were present at the council when this was said;
and if they had been it would have mattered little, for they were
neither fierce nor courageous, although bold enough in their own
haunts to murder and rob the unwary.
The second chief did not quite agree with Pee-eye-em. He said that it
was impossible for them to make peace with their natural enemies, the
Peigans and the Blackfeet on the east side of the mountains. It was
very desirable, he admitted; but neither of these tribes would consent
to it, he felt sure.
Upon this Joe Blunt rose and said, "The great chief of the
War-are-ree-kas is wise, and knows that enemies cannot be reconciled
unless deputies are sent to make proposals of peace."
"The Pale-face does not know the Blackfeet," answered the chief. "Who
will go into the lands of the Blackfeet? My young men have been sent
once and again, and their scalps are now fringes to the leggings of
their enemies. The War-are-ree-kas do not cross the mountains but for
the purpose of making war."
"The chief speaks truth," returned Joe; "yet there are three men round
the council fire who will go to the Blackfeet and the Peigans with
messages of peace from the Snakes if they wish it."
Joe pointed to himself, Henri, and Dick as he spoke, and added, "We
three do not belong to the camp of the fur-traders; we only, lodge
with them for a time. The Great Chief of the white men has sent us to
make peace with the Red-men, and to tell them that he desires to trade
with them--to exchange hatchets, and guns, and blankets for furs."
This declaration interested the two chiefs greatly, and after a good
deal of discussion they agreed to take advantage of Joe Blunt's offer;
and appoint him as a deputy to the court of their enemies. Having
arranged these matters to their satisfaction, Cameron bestowed a red
flag and a blue surtout with brass buttons on each of the chiefs, and
a variety of smaller articles on the other members of the council, and
sent them away in a particularly amiable frame of mind.
Pee-eye-em burst the blue surtout at the shoulders and elbows in
putting it on, as it was much too small for his gigantic frame;
but never having seen such an article of apparel before, he either
regarded this as the natural and proper consequence of putting it on,
or was totally indifferent to it, for he merely looked at the rents
with a smile of satisfaction, while his squaw surreptitiously cut off
the two back buttons and thrust them into her bosom.
By the time the council closed the night was far advanced, and a
bright moon was shedding a flood of soft light over the picturesque
and busy scene.
"I'll go to the Injun camp," said Joe to Walter Cameron, as the chiefs
rose to depart. "The season's far enough advanced already; it's time
to be off; and if I'm to speak for the Redskins in the Blackfeet
Council, I'd need to know what to say."
"Please yourself, Master Blunt," answered Cameron. "I like your
company and that of your friends, and if it suited you I would be
glad to take you along with us to the coast of the Pacific; but your
mission among the Indians is a good one, and I'll help it on all I
can.--I suppose you will go also?" he added, turning to Dick Varley,
who was still seated beside the council fire caressing Crusoe.
"Wherever Joe goes, I go," answered Dick.
Crusoe's tail, ears, and eyes demonstrated high approval of the
sentiment involved in this speech.
"And your friend Henri?"
"He goes too," answered Joe. "It's as well that the Redskins should
see the three o' us before we start for the east side o' the
mountains.--Ho, Henri! come here, lad."
Henri obeyed, and in a few seconds the three friends crossed the
brook to the Indian camp, and were guided to the principal lodge by
Pee-eye-em. Here a great council was held, and the proposed attempt
at negotiations for peace with their ancient enemies fully discussed.
While they were thus engaged, and just as Pee-eye-em had, in the
energy of an enthusiastic peroration, burst the blue surtout _almost_
up to the collar, a distant rushing sound was heard, which caused
every man to spring to his feet, run out of the tent, and seize his
weapons.
"What can it be, Joe?" whispered Dick as they stood at the tent door
leaning on their rifles, and listening intently.
"Dun'no'," answered Joe shortly.
Most of the numerous fires of the camp had gone out, but the bright
moon revealed the dusky forms of thousands of Indians, whom the
unwonted sound had startled, moving rapidly about.
The mystery was soon explained. The Indian camp was pitched on an open
plain of several miles in extent, which took a sudden bend half-a-mile
distant, where a spur of the mountains shut out the farther end of
the valley from view. From beyond this point the dull rumbling sound
proceeded. Suddenly there was a roar as if a mighty cataract had been
let loose upon the scene. At the same moment a countless herd of wild
horses came thundering round the base of the mountain and swept over
the plain straight towards the Indian camp.
"A stampede!" cried Joe, springing to the assistance of Pee-eye-em,
whose favourite horses were picketed near the tent.
On they came like a living torrent, and the thunder of a thousand
hoofs was soon mingled with the howling of hundreds of dogs in the
camp, and the yelling of Indians, as they vainly endeavoured to
restrain the rising excitement of their steeds. Henri and Dick stood
rooted to the ground, gazing in silent wonder at the fierce and
uncontrollable gallop of the thousands of panic-stricken horses that
bore down upon the camp with the tumultuous violence of a mighty
cataract.
As the maddened troop drew nigh, the camp horses began to snort and
tremble violently, and when the rush of the wild steeds was almost
upon them, they became ungovernable with terror, broke their halters
and hobbles, and dashed wildly about. To add to the confusion at that
moment, a cloud passed over the moon and threw the whole scene into
deep obscurity. Blind with terror, which was probably increased by the
din of their own mad flight, the galloping troop came on, and with a
sound like the continuous roar of thunder that for an instant drowned
the yell of dog and man they burst upon the camp, trampling over
packs and skins, and dried meat, etc., in their headlong speed, and
overturning several of the smaller tents. In another moment they swept
out upon the plain beyond, and were soon lost in the darkness of the
night, while the yelping of dogs, as they vainly pursued them, mingled
and gradually died away with the distant thunder of their retreat.
This was a _stampede_, one of the most extraordinary scenes that can
be witnessed in the western wilderness.
"Lend a hand, Henri," shouted Joe, who was struggling with a powerful
horse. "Wot's comed over yer brains, man? This brute'll git off if you
don't look sharp."
Dick and Henri both answered to the summons, and they succeeded in
throwing the struggling animal on its side and holding it down
until its excitement was somewhat abated. Pee-eye-em had also been
successful in securing his favourite hunter: but nearly every other
horse belonging to the camp had broken loose and joined the whirlwind
gallop. But they gradually dropped out, and before morning the most of
them were secured by their owners. As there were at least two thousand
horses and an equal number of dogs in the part of the Indian camp
which had been thus overrun by the wild mustangs, the turmoil, as may
be imagined, was prodigious! Yet, strange to say, no accident of a
serious nature occurred beyond the loss of several chargers.
In the midst of this exciting scene there was one heart which beat
with a nervous vehemence that well-nigh burst it. This was the heart
of Dick Varley's horse, Charlie. Well known to him was that distant
rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the fur-traders'
camp, where he was picketed close to Cameron's tent. Many a time had
he heard the approach of such a wild troop, and often, in days not
long gone by, had his shrill neigh rung out as he joined and led
the panic-stricken band. He was first to hear the sound, and by his
restive actions to draw the attention of the fur-traders to it. As a
precautionary measure they all sprang up and stood by their horses to
soothe them, but as a brook with a belt of bushes and quarter of a
mile of plain intervened between their camp and the mustangs as they
flew past, they had little or no trouble in restraining them. Not
so, however, with Charlie. At the very moment that his master was
congratulating himself on the supposed security of his position, he
wrenched the halter from the hand of him who held it, burst through
the barrier of felled trees that had been thrown round the camp,
cleared the brook at a bound, and with a wild hilarious neigh resumed
his old place in the ranks of the free-born mustangs of the prairie.
Little did Dick think, when the flood of horses swept past him, that
his own good steed was there, rejoicing in his recovered liberty. But
Crusoe knew it. Ay, the wind had borne down the information to his
acute nose before the living storm burst upon the camp; and when
Charlie rushed past, with the long tough halter trailing at his heels,
Crusoe sprang to his side, seized the end of the halter with his
teeth, and galloped off along with him.
It was a long gallop and a tough one, but Crusoe held on, for it was a
settled principle in his mind _never_ to give in. At first the check
upon Charlie's speed was imperceptible, but by degrees the weight of
the gigantic dog began to tell, and after a time they fell a little
to the rear; then by good fortune the troop passed through a mass of
underwood, and the line getting entangled brought their mad career
forcibly to a close; the mustangs passed on, and the two friends were
left to keep each other company in the dark.
How long they would have remained thus is uncertain, for neither
of them had sagacity enough to undo a complicated entanglement.
Fortunately, however, in his energetic tugs at the line, Crusoe's
sharp teeth partially severed it, and a sudden start on the part of
Charlie caused it to part. Before he could escape, Crusoe again seized
the end of it, and led him slowly but steadily back to the Indian
camp, never halting or turning aside until he had placed the line in
Dick Varley's hand.
"Hallo, pup! where have ye bin? How did ye bring him here?" exclaimed
Dick, as he gazed in amazement at his foam-covered horse.
Crusoe wagged his tail, as if to say, "Be thankful that you've got
him, Dick, my boy, and don't ask questions that you know I can't
answer."
"He must ha' broke loose and jined the stampede," remarked Joe, coming
out of the chief's tent at the moment; "but tie him up, Dick, and come
in, for we want to settle about startin' to-morrow or nixt day."
Having fastened Charlie to a stake, and ordered Crusoe to watch him,
Dick re-entered the tent where the council had reassembled, and where
Pee-eye-em--having, in the recent struggle, split the blue surtout
completely up to the collar, so that his backbone was visible
throughout the greater part of its length--was holding forth in
eloquent strains on the subject of peace in general and peace with the
Blackfeet, the ancient enemies of the Shirry-dikas, in particular.