Eagerly I pulled out the cork. It was almost full.
"Here's a prize, Pat!" I exclaimed, holding it up.
"Thank Heaven for it," cried Pat. "We shall now be able to shoot any
bird or baste we catch sight of, but it is a bad lookout for whoever
left it behind."
"I think it tells a tale," I answered. "The party, whoever they were,
must have hurried away--perhaps from the appearance of a body of
Indians, or they might have gone off in chase of some deer or
buffaloes."
"If that was so, no one would have left his powder-horn behind,"
observed Pat. "It's my belafe they took to flight to escape from
Indians. It must have been in the daytime, for there are no pieces of
bark about, or any signs of a night encampment; but how the Indians came
to miss the powder-flask is more than I can say. Let me look at it."
He examined the flask carefully, as I had been doing.
"It's my belafe," he said, "that it does not belong to any of the people
of the fort. My idea is that a party of white men have come over the
Rocky Mountains by Jasper House, and have stopped here on their way
eastward, intending to reach Fort a la Corne, or Fort Pelly, farther
south, though I doubt, unless they can procure sleighs, if they will get
there this winter."
"Be that as it may, the powder-flask is a God-send to us," I said; "and
I hope that the owner will not be the worse without it. At all events,
let us load your rifle to be ready for any animal which may come across
our path."
We searched about for any other treasure which might have been left
behind, but could discover nothing in the immediate neighbourhood of the
fire.
It would be useless to stop where we were, so taking it for granted that
the fugitives had gone eastward, we continued on at right-angles to
their trail.
We had not gone far when, crossing a piece of meadow, where from its
exposure the snow had almost disappeared, Pat cried out, "There is
something else worth having;" and, darting forward, he lifted up a long
lasso composed of buffalo hide. One end had been cut, the other was
fixed into the ground by an iron stake with a ring.
"The owner of this must have mounted his horse in a desperate hurry, and
cut him free," he observed. "If the Indians had taken him, they would
have carried off the lasso and stake. We shall hear more about this
some day; but I only hope the whites got safe off."
Coiling up the lasso with the stake, Pat hung it over his shoulders.
"If any buffalo are in the neighbourhood, they are likely to visit this
meadow," he observed; "and if we see any, won't we--" And he made signs
of biting away with his teeth so furiously that I could not help
laughing at his grimaces.
"Come! that's right, Masther David. It's a great thing to keep up one's
spirits, especially on an empty stomach."
We were proceeding along the edge of a wood which bordered the meadow,
when we caught sight of several dark spots. By keeping close under the
trees we got still nearer to them, when to our infinite satisfaction we
discovered that they were buffaloes.
So busily were they feeding that they did not see us, but they were
still too far out from the cover to allow us to get a shot at one of
them; starving as we were, it was a matter of the greatest importance
not to allow them to escape.
In summer, with proper precautions, when the grass was long, we might
have managed to creep over the ground without being discovered by the
animals, but with the white mantle which now lay on the ground we should
be certain to be seen.
We remained hid behind some bushes, Pat's mouth watering with the
thoughts of the buffalo meat he hoped to obtain, and my hand trembling
with anxiety. Though we could not approach the animals, they might draw
nearer to us. We were still waiting in the expectation of their doing
this, when another buffalo appeared on the scene, and bellowing loudly
approached the herd. They retreated towards the wood, but still at a
distance from where we were, when a bull advanced from among them to
meet the newcomer. The latter bellowed still more loudly, and was
answered by his antagonist.
In another minute the horns of the two animals were crashing furiously
together.
"Now is our time," I cried, and rushing forward with Pat's gun in my
hand, I approached the combatants. Pat followed, keeping somewhat to
the right of me.
I had got to within about thirty yards of the two animals, who were
moving about now on one side and now on the other with the greatest
rapidity, so that it would not be very easy, I knew, to hit a vital
part.
Dropping on my knee, that I might take a steadier aim, I raised my rifle
and fired at one of the buffaloes, which at that moment presented its
side to me. It was in the act of making a rush at its opponent, but
fell before their horns met, when the other immediately rushed at it,
leaping over the prostrate body of its foe.
I was about to reload my rifle, when the victorious buffalo caught sight
of Pat and me, and throwing up the snow with its hoofs, and bellowing
with rage, it dashed towards us.
"Run for a tree! run for a tree!" cried Pat, "or the baste will be upon
us;" and suiting the action to the word, he made towards one at no great
distance off. I, following his example, ran in the direction of one
which appeared somewhat nearer to me. As I began to move, I felt
something slip from my fingers. It was my powder-flask! Fortunately I
had not yet withdrawn the cork. I had to run as fast as I had been
compelled to do when escaping from the elk, with the bellowing buffalo
close to my heels.
I had barely time to swing myself into the tree, when the enraged animal
was up to me.
The buffalo dashed forward for some paces, when, not seeing me in front,
it turned up its eyes and espied me a few feet only above its head; on
this it made a furious charge at the tree, which shook so that I feared
it would be uprooted or broken off by the force of its blows.