THE LOST HUNTER
"It's a long, long way up to the Mandans!" sang John at the second camp
above the Council Bluffs. "Wonder if we ever will get there before
winter! Here we are, just below the Vermilion, over nine hundred and
fifty miles up the river, and over three weeks out, but we're only
halfway to the Yellowstone, and still a good deal more than six hundred
miles below the Mandan Villages, though I've counted fifty-three towns
and cities we've passed in the river, coming this far. It certainly does
look as though we'll have to winter up there, sure enough."
"Oh, I don't know," demurred Rob, consulting the pages of his own
notebook. "No fellow can ask an outboard motor to do better than ours
have. I'll admit we're just inside our forty-mile-a-day stunt, but
that's five miles an hour and only eight hours a day. I'll bet they
would have been mighty glad to do half that."
"I've been wondering how they were able to spurt so much, north of the
Platte," said John.
"I'll bet I know!" broke in Jesse. "It's because the shores were more
open, so they could use the cordelle! They'd been doing it, too, for on
August 26th they made a new 'Toe line' out of braided elk-hide. Clark
killed an elk on August 25th, and Reuben Fields killed five deer that
day, and George Shannon killed an elk that day, too. So they 'jurked the
meet,' and made the hides into a tracking line. That beats rowing or
paddling to get up a river. We saw that on the Peace River and the
Mackenzie, didn't we?"
"I believe you're right, son!" said Rob. "These long sandy reaches,
where the men could trot on the line--that was where they got their
mileage, I'll warrant."
"George Shannon?" said Uncle Dick, who was listening as he sat on his
bed roll near the fire. "George Shannon, eh? Well, he didn't bring in
any more elk meat after that for many a day, that's sure."
"I know!" Rob nodded. "That's the man that got lost!"
"Yes, and trouble enough it gave the party and the leaders. They sent
out two men, Shields and J. Fields, to find him and the horses. That was
the second day. But they didn't find him. He didn't show up for sixteen
days. Luckily, he kept on ahead of the boat all the time, but, as we
all know, the most confusing way on earth to get lost from a party is
while you are on foot and the party is in a boat. Even Sir Alexander
Mackenzie got lost that way, on the Findlay River; and so have we all of
us."
"Well, poor Shannon nearly starved to death. I don't think he was a
first-class hunter, either, or he'd not have gone out without his
ammunition. In a country swarming with game he went for twelve days with
only grapes to eat, except one rabbit that he shot with a piece of stick
instead of a bullet. He held on to one horse, and lucky he did. Here's
what the _Journal_ says about Shannon--whom Lewis himself found:
"'He became weak and feable deturmined to lay by and wait for a
tradeing boat, which is expected. Keeping one horse as a last
resorse, yet a man had like to have starved to death in a land of
Plenty for the want of Bullits or something to kill his meat.'"
"Where was he when they found him?" John had his map ready.
"Well, let's see. They found him on September 11th, and they had
traveled thirteen days, not counting stops, and made one hundred and
sixty miles by the river. They must by then have been at least thirty
miles above what is now Fort Randall, South Dakota--I should say,
somewhere near Wheeler, South Dakota. Well, something of a walk for
George, eh?"
"Rather!" was Jesse's comment. "Oh, I suppose it's easy to call him a
dub, but the commanding officers didn't."
"But now," went on their leader, "a lot of things have been happening
since Shannon left, and here are a lot of interesting things to keep in
mind. One thing is, they expected a trading boat up. That must have been
from St. Louis, for Trudeau's post. That was long before the days of the
regular fur forts, and that accounts for all this country having its
French names on it.
"Another thing or two: By this time, in lower South Dakota, everybody
was killing buffalo and elk, great quantities of splendid meat. By now,
also, in early September, they had got on the antelope range for the
first time, and their first 'goat,' as they called it, was skinned and
described. They got another new animal, which they called a 'barkeing
squirel,' or 'ground rat'--on September 7th. That was the first prairie
dog, a great curiosity to them--the same day they saw their first
'goat.' They managed to drown out one prairie dog, which I never heard
of anyone else being able to do. They dug down six feet, and did not get
halfway to the 'lodge,' as they called the den.
"Also, they saw the western magpie, which seemed a 'verry butifull' bird
to them. Also again, on September 5th, they had seen their first
blacktail deer, which now, until they got into the Mandan and
Yellowstone country, was to outnumber the whitetail, which they called
the 'common deer,' because they never had seen any other sort. On one
day, September 17th, Lewis and his men killed two blacktail, eight
'fallow' deer, and five 'common' deer. Gass--who by now has been elected
sergeant to take poor Floyd's place--in his _Journal_ says they killed
thirteen common deer, two blacktailed, three buffalo, and a 'goat' that
day--not a half bad day, that, eh? Don't you wish we'd been along?
"But Gass in his book also says something I want you to remember, for it
may help explain the 'fallow' deer which Clark mentions, and which I
don't understand at all. Gass says: 'There is another species of deer in
this country, with small horns and long tails. The tail of one we killed
was 18 inches long.' Now that precisely coincides with the 'fantail'
deer which some old-time hunters of my acquaintance say they have
killed in the Black Hills country, though scientists say there never was
any fantail deer. Our men were now right east of the Black Hills. For
myself, I am convinced there was a fantail deer, and that it has far
more rights as a species than the dozen or more 'species' of bears which
our Washington scientists keep on finding.
"But even this is not all I am trying to get into your minds about this
country where our lost hunter Shannon was wandering alone. They were
getting all sorts of elk, catfish, and beaver, from the last of August
on, but better here--on September 5th they saw both 'goats' and wild
turkeys on the same day. Did you know that wild turkeys ranged so far
north? Well, they at that time overlapped the range of the buffalo, the
elk, the blacktailed deer, the badger, the antelope, the prairie dog,
and the magpie.
"And in this hunting paradise, they killed on one day, September 8th,
two buffalo, one large elk, one small elk, four deer, three turkeys, and
a squirrel. All gone now, even almost all the prairie dogs and maybe the
magpies; and we haven't seen any young wild geese on our trip, either.
But now, following out the record of these men, we can see what a
wonderful hunting country they had been in, almost every day from St.
Louis, especially here, where the lower country began to blend with the
high Plains and their game animals. Great days, boys--great days! Alas!
that they are gone for you and me forever."
"You're getting off the track, Uncle Dick," said John, critically, just
now, as the former concluded his long talk on the game animals.
"Why, what do you mean?"
"While Shannon was lost, and while they were all having such good luck
hunting, they at last had found their Sioux and got them in for a
council. That was under an oak tree, at the mouth of the Jacque, or
James, River, on August 29th. Old man Dorion had found his son Pierre,
who was trading among the Sioux, it says. Well, they got five chiefs and
about seventy others, and they all went into council."
"Oak tree, did you say, John? Oak tree this far north?" Jesse was
particular.
"Yes, sir, oak tree--lots of them all through here then. Clark tells how
the deer and elk ate the acorns, and how fond they were of them. Didn't
you notice that?"
"Well, let's push off and run up to the old council ground," said Rob,
who was always for getting forward. "It can't be more than a few hours'
run, for we don't stop at any towns, you know."
They did this, and spent some time studying the spot, so that they could
believe they were on the very council ground where Lewis and Clark first
met the Sioux, below the Calumet Bluff, on the "Butifull Plain near the
foot of the high land which rises with a gradual assent near this
Bluff." At least a trace of the old abundance of the timber could be
seen. They consulted their _Journal_ and argued for a long time.
"This is where they sent out the two men to hunt for the lost man
Shannon," said Rob. "And here is where our captains made their big
treaty speeches with the Sioux and gave them medals and the D.S.O., and
the Congressional Medal and things. They had a lot of government 'Good
Indian' certificates all ready to fill in, and it peeved them when one
of the chiefs handed back his certificate and said he didn't care for
it, but would rather have some whiskey.
"Those Sioux must have been a surly bunch," said Rob. "But Captain Lewis
impressed them very much, and Captain Clark let down his long red hair
and astonished them, and everybody fed them and gave them presents; and
they appointed young Mr. Dorion a commissioner, and gave him a flag, and
told him to bring about a peace between all these tribes--the Sioux,
Omahas, Pawnees, Poncas, Otoes, and Missouris--and to try to get chiefs
of each tribe to go down the river and to Washington, to see the Great
Father. And the _Journal_ kept them good and busy, setting down the
names of the different bands of the Sioux and telling how they looked."
John grinned, and pointed to the page. "'The Warriers are Verry much
deckerated with Paint Porcupine quils and feathers, large leagins and
mockersons, all with buffalow robes of Different Colors, the Squars wore
Peticoats and a White Buffalow roabe with the black hare turned back
over their necks and Sholders.' I'll say they had plenty to do, writing
and hunting and making speeches. It wasn't any pleasure party, when you
come right down to it, now!"
"We haven't found George Shannon yet," interrupted Jesse, dryly.
"Give us time!" answered Rob. "I vote to stay here all night. I can see
the blue smokes of their council fires, and see the men dancing, and the
painted Indians sitting around, and the great council pipe passing--red
pipestone, with eagle feathers on the stem; and meat hanging in camp,
and the squaws cooking, dogs yelping, drums going. Oh, by Jove! Oh, by
Jove! Those were the things to make you sit up late at night! I wish
we'd been along."
"We _are_ along!" said Uncle Dick, soberly. "If you can see those
stirring scenes, we are along. So, Rob, as you say, we'll pitch our camp
and dream, for at least a day, of our own wonderful America when it was
young."
John and Jesse were busy clearing a place for the tent. "I want the fire
right close up to the tent," said John, "and we don't want to burn off
either a tent pole or an overhead guy rope."
"Oh," rejoined Jesse, the youngest of them all, "I'll show you how to do
that!"
He dug into his war bag and brought out a roll of stout wire. "Run this
from the top of the front pole on out, ten or twelve feet, and stretch
it over a couple of shear poles. See? That'll stiffen the tent, and yet
you can build a fire right under the wire, and it won't hurt it any."
"A good idea, Jesse," approved their leader as he saw this. "A mighty
good idea for cold weather--about as good as your open fireplace of
sheet steel with a stovepipe--open wider in front than behind, and
reflecting the heat into the tent. I've tried that last invention of
yours, Jess, and it works fine in coolish weather. We'll try it again,
maybe."
"I'm making me a new kind of airplane now," said Jesse, modestly. "It's
different in some ways. I like to sort of figure things out, that way."
"That's good. And to-night, son, I want you to see whether you can't
figure out a nice fat catfish on your set line. We need meat in camp;
and that's about what it'll have to be, I suppose."
Thus, talking together of this thing and that, they made their own
comfortable camp, spreading down their own buffalo robes on the ground
for their beds, on the old council ground of the Sioux. They had a
hearty supper and soon were ready to turn in, for the mosquitoes were
bad enough, as they found. Rob sat late at night alone by the little
fire.
"Come on to bed, Rob," called Jesse. "What do you see out there,
anyway?"
"Indians," replied Rob. "Sioux in robes and feathers. Two men in uniform
coats, one tall and dark, the other tall and with red hair. Don't you
see them, too?"