BEAVER HUNTERS.
We left our camp at a rather early hour, and soon found below it
numerous signs of beaver trees, a foot and a half in diameter, lay with
a great number of smaller ones along the banks of the stream, and
farther in the wood we saw trees glistening whose bark had been peeled
off several feet above the ground. Any one unacquainted with these
animals and their habits would surely have believed that new settlers
had been busy here, and cut down wood for their block houses. The
splinters lay in heaps round the bitten-through trees, as if we had been
in a carpenter's shop, and many of the felled trees had been stripped of
their branches. These most interesting animals generally settle on the
smaller streams and brooks, and their families at first consist of but
few members. On such a stream they cautiously select a spot where
several tall soft-wooded trees, such as poplars, aspens, ashes, maples,
&c. stand on both sides of it, then proceed together to one of the
trunks, stand on their hind legs, and follow each other slowly round it,
tearing out of the tree at each bite great bits of wood, as if they had
been hewn out with an axe. They cut away more wood on the side of the
tree turned to the river than on the opposite side, so that it becomes
overbalanced and falls over into the water. Thus they fell one tree
after the other across the stream, nibble off the branches, and carry
other bits of wood between and under these trunks down to the river bed,
while they fill up the interstices with twigs. After this is finished,
they fetch on their broad flat tails mud and earth from the bank, and
plaster the wooden dam, till it becomes so tight that the water rises
before it, and overflows on both sides frequently for miles.
In this lake, produced by their art, the beavers build their houses,
which are generally of three storeys, though at times of four. They are
round and pointed like a sugar-loaf, are about twenty feet in diameter
at the bottom of the water; the floors are about two feet high, and
separated by a flooring, in the centre of which is a round hole, by
means of which they go up and down the house. The only entrance is at
the bottom of the water, and generally only the highest floor emerges
from the water, so that the latter is always dry. The creatures build
their house of branches three feet in length, which they bind together
with twigs and earth, and make the walls nearly a foot thick. They thus
build one floor over the other, each higher one being smaller, till the
highest one terminates in a point. They line the interior with grass and
moss, so that it affords them and their young a dry, warm abode in
winter.
[Illustration: BEAVERS BUILDING A DAM. _p. 268._]
The females give birth at the end of May, or beginning of June, to from
two to six young, which are brought up in the colony and remain there;
on the other hand, they never admit a strange beaver, and fight
sanguinary battles with it, if it tries to force its way into their
settlement. In proportion as the family increases, more houses are
built, and I have often seen lodges in which a dozen houses peeped out
of the water. The beavers, however, do not fell the trees solely to
build their houses, but also to procure food from the tender bark of the
thinner branches. They convey these branches in autumn, cut in lengths,
to their houses, and pile up a large supply in the lower rooms, on which
they live in winter. They go on land at this season, too, and for this
purpose keep holes open, in the ice on the banks of their ponds, and I
have also found their track in the snow; but as a rule, they remain at
home at that season. If the family grow too numerous for the space and
the food to be found in the vicinity, several members of it emigrate and
establish a new lodge close by: frequently an old beaver colony will
contain a hundred. The beaver is one of the most cautious and timid
animals in creation, and it is very difficult to get at it on land and
kill it with firearms; on the other hand, it is wonderfully easy to
capture in traps, and in this way an entire colony can be extirpated to
the last one in a very short period.
The male beaver carries in two bladders the _castoreum officinale_, a
very powerfully-scented, oily fluid, which the hunter collects in a
bottle and mixes with spirits, partly to keep it from putrefying, but
principally to impart to it another odour, by which the beaver is
induced to believe that it emanates from a stranger. In this bottle the
hunter thrusts a twig, the point of which he moistens with its contents,
then thrusts the other end of it into the bank of the beaver pond, so
that the point projects over the water at a spot where it is not very
deep. Exactly under this twig he places in the water his heavy iron
trap, to which he fastens, by a long thong, a very large bush, which he
throws on the bank. So soon as a beaver raises its nose on the surface
of the pond, it smells the castoreum on the twig, swims up to convince
itself whether it emanates from a stranger, and while going on land
steps on the trap, which closes and catches its forefeet. It darts away
with the trap into deep water, and wrestles furiously with the torturing
iron, for which reason a beaver thus captured is never found to have
sound teeth--till, quite exhausted, it tries to rise to the surface to
breathe. The trap, however, keeps it down, and the prisoner is drowned
in its own element. The next morning the hunter sees the bush floating
over the spot where the beaver is lying, and pulls it up with the trap.
The beaver hunters who visit these western deserts often take some
dozens of traps with them, so that when they arrive at a colony, it is
speedily destroyed, on which occasion they also capture in the same way
the otters living there.
Usually these hunters go quite alone into the desert with a horse that
carries the traps, some buffalo hides, salt, gunpowder, and bullets,
and lead thus, several hundred of miles away from civilization, a most
dangerous and fatiguing life for two or three years. At night they set
their traps, and in the morning take out the captured animals, whose
skins they dry before the fire, while their flesh serves them as food.
When they have cleared out the spot, they pack up the skins, conceal
them in caves, under rocks, and in hollow trees, and go farther with
their traps. In winter, when the hunt is not very productive, they build
huts of skins, or seek a cave in the rocks, in which they find a shelter
from the harsh climate, and hunt other varieties of game, while they
keep their horse alive on a stock of dried grass, collected in autumn,
weeds, or poplar bark. At the end of some years, during which such a
hunter has collected a large stock of skins, he proceeds to the nearest
settlement, fetches pack animals thence, takes a sufficient number of
men into his service, and proceeds to his hunting-grounds, in order to
carry to market the produce of his lengthened labour. It is often the
case that such a hunter receives from three to four thousand pounds for
the skins collected during this period, but still more frequently he
pays for his daring with his scalp and his life. The Indians themselves
do not kill beavers, but regard the trappers as the pioneers of the
white men, who eventually advance farther into their hunting-grounds,
and take from them one piece of land after the other, by which they are
daily driven farther back, and come into hostile collision with one
another. Hence the trappers are hated by all the Indians, and pursued by
them whenever they are seen. Only the great concealment and difficult
approach to the regions where they hunt, and the great caution with
which they manage to hide their abode from the eyes of the Indians,
render it possible for them to lead this life for years, and constantly
deceive the savages, when they accidentally acquire a knowledge of their
presence. It is incredible what acuteness and skill such iron characters
develope, and we must feel surprised that a single one of these
adventurers ever sees his home again, I have lain for whole nights at
the little fires of these people, and listened to their stories--how
they became familiar with this life in their earliest youth, and
returned to it when grey-haired, although able to live comfortably on
their savings in the civilized world. As the seafarer dies on the water,
the desert becomes the element of this hunter; and he rarely closes his
eyes elsewhere--with the rifle on his arm.
The sign of beaver lodges which we saw was so fresh and numerous that
probably no one had as yet appeared here with traps: the stream spread
far over its bank and formed a very large pool, from whose surface a
number of houses peeped out; but we could see nothing of the mysterious
denizens of the settlement. We were compelled to ride close under the
precipice on our right, where our cattle were up to their knees in
water, in order to cross the inundation, while below the dams the stream
remained in its narrow bed.
We reached Canadian River, which, however, here trended so to the east
that we took the first opportunity of crossing the hills that bordered
it and pursuing our course toward the north. On the other side of them,
which we reached about noon, we came to another small stream, on whose
banks we saw a number of peeled trees, and also found here a beaver
lodge. We rode through the stream, and had left it about a mile behind
us, when we suddenly heard a shout in our rear, and saw a man, who had
stationed himself on an isolated rock, and was making signs to us. Tiger
told me he was a beaver trapper. We rode back to bid this son of the
desert good day and hear whether we could be of any service to him. When
we drew nearer, the tall dark form disappeared from the rocks, and a man
stepped from the thicket on our left, with a long rifle in his hand, and
came up to us with the question--"Where from, strangers?" He was above
six feet high, thin, but muscular, with extraordinarily broad shoulders,
a dark bronzed face and neck, a long grey beard, and a haughty
demeanour; his small, light-blue eyes flashed with great resolution
under his thick black brows, while a pleasant smile softened the
impression which his glance might have produced on a stranger. His
exterior revealed at the first glance that he had endured a good deal in
his time, that he had often defied fate, and that nothing could easily
happen to him which would throw him out of gear and make his resolution
totter. Deer-hide tight trowsers, shoes of the same material, and a
jacket of the same composed his dress, and a scarlet woollen shirt,
unbuttoned, allowed his bronzed chest to be seen. A beaver-skin cap
proved that it was made by the wearer, and the same was the case with
the hunting-bag he carried over his shoulder.
I rode up to the stranger and replied--"From the Leone on the Rio
Grande," and offered him my hand, which he shook heartily. "Are you a
trapper? and where from?" I asked him. "From Missouri; my name--Ben
Armstrong--has been known for the last forty years in the Rocky
Mountains, and I have now been back for a year from the old State." He
invited us to go to his camp and spend the night with him, as he longed
to hear something about events in the old States. We accepted his
invitation, and followed him along a narrow path through the bushes and
rocks to a spot some hundred yards above the pond, where we dismounted
in front of some thick scrub, and passed through it with our host. We
stepped on to a cleared spot, from which the axe had removed the bushes,
at whose northern end heavy masses of rock rose above each other, and
hanging over at a height of thirty feet, covered a large space. Over the
whole place a number of dried beaver skins was suspended from the
branches, as well as the hide of a grizzly, and many others of deer and
antelopes. Under the rocks lay several bundles of beaver skins, while
one of them drawn up near the fire seemed to have served our host as a
seat.
Antonio and Koenigstein went down to the pond with our horses, where
there was excellent grass, and watched over them in turn with my other
comrades. I saw a track of a horse leading to our host's abode, and
asked him whose it was, to which he replied that on this trip, for the
first time in his life, he had taken a partner, a young Kentuckian of
the name of Gray, who was at present out hunting on horseback, to get
some venison, as they were sick of beaver meat. The next day, he said,
they intended to leave their camp, as they had trapped all the beavers
round, otherwise he would not have been so incautious as to lead so many
horses to his hiding-place and thus betray it to passing Indians. He
always led his own horse through the scrub up the stream, and let it
graze on the opposite side, so that its track might not lead to his
camp.
Our host now filled a cup from a small cask of whisky three of which lay
under the rocks, and, as he told us, constituted his sole luxury. He
loaded an extra mule with them when he started, but it had been killed
some months previously by a couguar, as it had got loose at night. He
readily offered us his favourite liquid and a cup of fresh spring water,
and after taking a hearty pull himself he put six beaver tails in front
of the fire, and we put all our coffeepots with them, and unpacked our
small stock of biscuit, while we set the remaining marrow-bones from
yesterday to roast.
The sun had not set when our friendly host's partner arrived with his
horse, loaded with deer meat. He was greatly surprised at finding so
large a party, and very pleased to have an opportunity of hearing news
from the States, even though it was not of the freshest. He was young
and tall, with a healthy, merry face, brown eyes, pleasant mouth, a
commencing beard, and long, dark brown curls hanging over his shoulders.
His tight-fitting leathern dress was made with more coquettishness than
Armstrong's, and displayed his handsome person, while a broad-brimmed
black beaver hat slightly pulled over one ear, imparted to his whole
appearance something resolute and determined.
Our cattle were now brought up and fastened to the withered trees in the
open space--then we lay down on our skins round the fire and enjoyed
the beaver tails, while our hosts paid special attention to our biscuits
and coffee, which were a rarity for them. After supper Armstrong sent
the whisky-cup round again, then pipes were lighted, and we first
answered the thousand questions asked us about the state of affairs at
home, and which principally referred to politics. When this subject was
exhausted, Armstrong spoke and told us the principal events of his life
since he last bade farewell to civilization, his various bloodthirsty
fights with the Indians, the dangers they had often escaped with
difficulty, and the fatigues and unpleasantnesses they endured, among
which he mentioned the hailstorm, which had also annoyed us. He told us
of successful hunts with the traps, and promised to show us the next
morning the last beaver to be found in these parts.
Then he told us how the ex-owner of the monstrous bearskin, which hung
behind us on a tree, had paid a visit one evening to their camp, and how
they killed it. For fear of the Indians they dared not light a large
fire, and the few coals had not frightened the bear, which advanced
within a few yards of them, when both fired their rifles at its head,
and laid it dead on the ground. While telling this story, Armstrong
pulled off his shirt and showed us on his sides and back a regular mass
of scars which he had received from the embraces of dying grizzlies. He
narrated so picturesquely that the matter was fully brought before the
listener: his powerful deep voice, which kept pace with the fire of his
narrative, the passionate gestures by which he accompanied his
narrative, as well as his coarse form, illumined by the fire and the
surrounding scenery, produced a remarkable and permanent impression on
me. We listened to the stories till a late hour, when fatigue at length
closed our eyes.
At the first beam of dawn we led our cattle into the grass, got
breakfast ready, and then went with Armstrong about half a mile down the
stream, where he had traps still set. We pulled up three beavers with
the bushes floating on the water, and our host remarked that now there
was only one old fellow left, who had escaped his traps several times
and would not go near them again in a hurry. On returning to camp, we
packed our animals and took leave of our kind hosts, to whom, to their
great joy, we gave a portion of our stock of coffee. We then described
to them accurately the district where we had seen the numerous beaver
lodges, and wishing them all possible luck, rode again up the mountain's
side where we had heard Armstrong shout.
For several days we followed our course without any particular
difficulties, while the country retained much the same character. The
Sacramento mountains seemed to run farther to the west, and attained
their greatest height here. We soon got among higher mountains, and
found we should have done better by going more to the east into the
prairies, for we were obliged to turn and ride a long way back, as we
could not pass through the mountains. At length, however, we reached a
river of some size, which flowed to the north-east, and resolved to
follow it until we reached lower and more accessible regions where we
could pursue our course again. We spent the night on the north side of
the river, and found, after riding a few miles down its bank, that the
valley through which it flowed constantly grew narrower and the
precipices on its sides steeper. It was still early, and the sun had
been unable to overpower the thick fog which had gathered in the valleys
during the night. It appeared, indeed, still uncertain whether it would
rise or fall, as it hung about the rocks in long, narrow strips. It was
as cold as on a damp autumn morning; the grass and bushes were as wet as
after a heavy shower, and heavy dewdrops hung on the old spider's webs
between them. We had put on our buffalo robes and guided our horses
between the many loose blocks of stone and step-like strata, while the
river constantly displayed larger and smaller cascades, some of which
were twenty feet high, and its bed continually became deeper.
We had just reached one of these falls when we noticed on the other
bank two very large grizzly bears, one of which squatted on its
hind-quarters and stared over at us. They could not hurt us, as the
stream above the fall was too rapid for them to swim across without
being carried so far that they would go over the fall, and below the
latter the banks were at least fifty feet high, and so steep that it was
impossible to climb them. Tiger, for all that, advised us not to fire at
them, as he was of opinion that they might find a spot where they could
cross to us, and then they would give us a good deal of trouble. We
therefore rode past without disturbing them, and only watched them as
they licked their paws and passed them over their clumsy heads, while
sniffing at us from time to time, and even following us a few yards
along the bank.
The gorge down which the river dashed grew deeper and our route the more
dangerous, until we suddenly came to a ravine which ran across our road
into the river bed. Our farther progress was here checked, and we were
obliged to try and make a path up it, which was effected with great
difficulty, as the stones lay wildly about. We soon reached an old very
practicable path, which, as it appeared to us, was used not only by
buffaloes, but also by Indians, and which ran north-west. Tiger was of
opinion that this was the road through these mountains to Santa Fe which
the foot Indians employed, as they avoid the prairies in order to get
out of the way of the mounted tribes, and because travelling in the tall
grass is too fatiguing for a pedestrian.
We gladly followed it, for the road through the rocks was more
impassable than ever; it ran up hill rather sharply toward the highest
mountain saddles. The nearer we advanced to them the better and more
passable the path became, and our horses scaled these high hills at a
good pace, and at times had an opportunity of drawing breath on small
plateaus. The sky was perfectly cloudless and the sun warm, so that we
welcomed the light north wind. Eastward the low hills lay at our feet in
the extreme distance, between which we could watch the various mountain
torrents for a long way, while here and there the rich green of the
fresh turf peeped out between the red masses. On our left, the mountains
were piled on each other in the strangest forms until their glistening
ice-peaks rose into the azure sky. Our path frequently wound along the
precipices, where it could be seen for a long distance like a white
stripe, and it did not seem possible to pass along it; but when we
reached the spot our horses stepped lightly over it, and we found that
it looked worse than it really was.
Thus, toward evening, when the sun was sinking behind the mountains, we
saw our path suddenly disappear behind an abrupt precipice, and expected
a dangerous bit. When we arrived there we considered it really better to
dismount and lead our horses. The path constantly grew narrower under
the precipice, and the abyss beneath us steeper and deeper at every
step. We advanced as it was no longer possible to turn back, and with
each foot our situation became more serious. We wound round the face of
the rock and looked down into a dizzy ravine, whose bottom was already
hidden by the gloom. The path was only a few feet wide, and at many
places washed away by the rain. Tiger, with his piebald, was ahead of
me, and was leading his horse by a long bridle; all at once he cried to
me, "Take care," and I saw his horse step down and then spring up again.
The rain had excavated the path here to some depth, and by its side the
rocks went down sheer. Without hesitation, I seized the end of the
bridle, quickly crossed the dangerous spot, and Czar did the same
gallantly. Koenigstein followed me, and then one after the other till the
mules at length came up. Jack was ahead; he went cautiously up and down,
and I saw the basket on his left side graze the precipice; still he got
across safely. Lizzy followed at his heels; but Sam swerved when he
arrived at the spot, made a leap to get across, struck his basket
against the precipice, and was hurled out into the abyss, down which he
fell with all four feet in the air. A general "Ah!" was the sole sound
that passed our lips, for we were not yet out of danger ourselves. Ere
long, however, the path grew broader, and ran over a grassy plateau,
whence we could look back at the dangerous point and into the dark
abyss. Had we arrived from this side, not one of us would have dared to
lead his horse over it, and we should have been obliged to ride round a
long way.
The loss of Sam was serious to us, for he carried our coffee, spirits,
several buffalo robes and articles of clothing. A little coffee was
still packed on Jack, as we had opened a fresh bladder that very
morning, and that animal carried all the articles for daily consumption.
Still the matter could not be helped, and we regarded the loss as a very
fortunate one, as we might just as easily have lost one of our horses,
which would have been far more serious. We unpacked, as the sun had set
and we did not know what roads we might still find. We had grass for our
hungry cattle, and water for ourselves we carried with us. We made a
small fire of _bois de vache_, to which Tiger presently brought a few
twigs of mimosa, so that we were able to cook our supper; then we
supplied our friends whose bedding had fallen into the abyss with such
blankets and hides as we could spare. The night was very cold, and we
missed a good wood fire terribly. We rolled ourselves tighter in our
blankets and skins, but could not keep warm, and were glad when daylight
came and we could make our blood circulate by moving about. All of us,
except Antonio, hurried off to look for firewood, in search of which we
had to go some distance; still the movement did us good, and each
brought an armful of wood back, so that we soon had a good fire at which
to warm our benumbed hands.
It was very early when we rode off with our buffalo robes over our
shoulders: we pulled the large woollen blankets that hung over the
saddle across our lap, so as to keep our knees warm, and throwing the
bridle on the horse's neck, we put our hands in our jacket-pockets. The
whole landscape looked as if sugared, the grass and bushes sparkled in
the sunbeams with their coating of hoar frost, and the rocks completed
the wintry scene by the cold blue tinge they had in the shade. This
picture, however, passed away very rapidly, and in an hour the rime was
hardly to be seen even at the shadiest spots. Our path continually ran
upwards, and went up and down from one mountain saddle to another. We
saw several bears climbing up the rocks, for in these remote regions
they are not very particular as to the mode of going home, and came
across a herd of antelopes, some of which we shot. About noon we reached
a hollow between two ranges of hills, where we found fresh grass and a
stream whose banks were covered with low bushes.
We noticed about a mile to our left at the spot where the stream ran out
of a precipitous and very narrow gorge, eight buffaloes quietly grazing,
and resolved to hunt them. We left our cattle under Antonio's charge and
crept toward the animals. Here my comrades hid themselves in a dry bush
overgrown with raspberry creepers that stood nearly at the centre of the
opening, and Tiger and I crept up to the buffaloes, which were standing
at the highest point of the ravine: we reached some bushes not more than
ten yards from the animals without their perceiving us, and lay down on
the ground in the midst of them. We had each selected a buffalo, when
they stared into our bush with tails erect, as they had probably scented
us; we fired together, and at the same moment there was a trampling over
us as if a cavalry regiment were charging. I jumped up and fired again
at the flying monsters, which now had to run the gauntlet of my
comrades' guns. One dropped close to them and a second fell a little
farther on, while the rest galloped down the stream. Tiger sprang up too
and cut off a buffalo near our bush, which he said was the one I had
shot: his had fled with the others. For my part, I had not seen it, for
the powder smoke still hung over my rifle, when the brutes charged over
us, and we might consider ourselves fortunate that they had not trampled
us with their huge feet. We skinned one of them in order to use the skin
as a substitute for the one we had lost, although an untanned buffalo
hide is a very clumsy thing to carry on pack-animals.
We laid in a stock of the best meat, took all the marrow-bones and
tongues, and then followed a very decent path, which here left the main
road and went down the stream eastward. After a little while the path
trended more to the northern hills, where we saw the smoke of numerous
fires rising farther to the north. Tiger said it was lucky we had chosen
this road, as on the other we should have ridden right into an Indian
camp.
For two days we followed our path and crossed various streams which
flowed more to the south, till the low hills became more scattered and
the glens between them wider. The vegetation was springing up here, and
the good pasturage induced us to grant our cattle some days' rest, as
they had been on short commons lately. We selected a very pretty
camping-place, where a small stream ran under a precipice and was
covered on one side with scrub and a few leafy trees, while on the north
and east a rich prairie opened out, and to the west the forest became
thicker. We had abundance of game of every description, and many a head
bled to death around us, merely for the sake of the fascination which
hunting exerts. All had left camp in turn to hunt except Clifton and
myself, and the latter asked leave on the second morning to try his
luck. It was a fine day and I proposed to accompany him, but stipulated
that we should ride. Clifton was delighted, and quickly saddled his
iron-grey, a horse of remarkable value, who up to the present had been
the least fatigued of all our cattle by the journey.
We rode away from camp and received from our laughing comrades a
seasonable hint to take care and not lose ourselves. We rode up the
stream, from which a thick wood soon separated us, on whose skirt we had
followed the prairie. We had ridden for about an hour, when we noticed a
little distance off some wild cattle proceeding toward the wood. Clifton
was very eager to kill one of these animals, but I warned him to be
most cautious, and reminded him that this was a most dangerous hunt. We
rode slowly to the skirt of the wood and reached the spot where the herd
had entered it, when Clifton pulled up under a young oak, wound his
horse's bridle round a branch, and ran off with his rifle and knelt
behind a large plane tree. He had done this almost before I knew what he
was about. I rode a few paces farther and saw a large bull grazing with
its head turned towards us, but at the same moment Clifton fired. The
bullet was hardly out of the rifle ere the bull rushed at him with
lowered head, and Clifton, throwing away his gun, took to flight. He
reached a young tree and swarmed up it, while the savage brute dashed
under his swinging legs and charged the iron-grey, which attempted in
vain to tear away its bridle from the branch. In an instant the bull
drove its head under the poor horse, and with its monstrous horns tore
its entrails out. The horse fell to the ground with a fearful piercing
cry, and at the same moment I sent a bullet through the bull's shoulder;
it turned and followed me furiously into the prairie, where I fled
before it in a wide circle. It became exhausted, stopped, and uttered a
furious roar, while hurling up the turf with his horns and stamping on
the ground with its feet. I turned Czar a little to the right, kept
Trusty back, and sent my second bullet between the bull's shoulders,
upon which it sank on one knee and soon rolled over.
I now hurried to Clifton, who was standing with tears in his eyes over
his dead horse and repenting his want of caution, but too late. Mourning
over this sad loss, we went back to camp on foot and there aroused great
sorrow by describing our misfortune. We consulted as to what was now to
be done, and there was no choice left but for Clifton to ride the mule,
Lizzy, while we divided her load between Jack and Antonio's mare. We
sent to the scene of the accident to fetch Clifton's saddle and some
meat from the bull, and remained all day in camp in sorrowful mood.
[Illustration]