King Bison
"Up! Up, everybody!" was the shout that reached Dick's sleeping
ears. He sprang to his feet and found that the gorgeous sun was
flooding the prairie with light. Already the high, brilliant
skies of the Great West were arching over him. Men were cooking
breakfast. Teamsters were cracking their whips and the whole
camp was alive with a gay and cheerful spirit. Everybody seemed
to know now that they were going for the gold, and, like Dick,
they had found it in fancy already.
Breakfast over, the train took up its march, turning at a right
angle from its old course and now advancing almost due north.
But this start was made with uncommon alacrity and zeal. There
were no sluggards now. They, too, had golden visions, and, as if
to encourage them, the aspect of the country soon began to
change, and rapidly to grow better. The clouds of dust that they
raised were thinner. The bunch grass grew thicker. Off on the
crest of a swell a moving figure was seen now and then.
"Antelope," said the hunters. Once they passed a slow creek.
The water was muddy, but it contained no alkali, and animals and
men drank eagerly. Cottonwoods, the first trees they had seen in
days, grew on either side of the stream, and they rested there
awhile in the shade, because the sun was now out in full
splendor, and the vast plains shimmered in the heat.
Albert resumed his place in the wagon. Dick had a horse which,
on becoming foot-sore, had been allowed to rest for a few days,
and was now well. He mounted it and galloped on ahead. The
clouds were all gone away and the golden visions had come back.
He felt so strong, so young, and the wonderful air of the plains
was such a tonic that he urged his horse to a gallop, and it was
hard for him to keep from shouting aloud in joy. He looked
eagerly into the north, striving already for a sight of the dark
mountains that men called the Black Hills. The blue gave back
nothing but its own blue.
His horse seemed to share his spirits, and swung along with swift
and easy stride. Dick looked back presently, and saw that the
train which had been winding like a serpent over the plains was
lost to sight behind the swells. The surface of the earth had
become more rolling as they advanced northward, and he knew that
the train, though out of sight, was nor far away.
He enjoyed for the moment the complete absence of all human
beings save himself. To be alone then meant anything but
loneliness. He galloped to the crest of a higher swell than
usual, and then stopped short. Far off on the plain he saw tiny
moving figures, a dozen or so, and he was sure that they were
antelope. They had seen antelope before at a great distance, but
had not bothered about them. Now the instincts of the hunter
rose in Dick, and he resolved to make a trial of his skill.
He found in one of the depressions between the swells a stunted
cottonwood, to which he hitched his horse, knowing it would be
well hidden there from the observation of the herd. He then
advanced on foot. He had heard that the antelope was a slave to
its own curiosity, and through that weakness he intended to
secure his game.
When he had gone about half the distance he sank down on his
hands and knees and began to crawl, a laborious and sometimes
painful operation, burdened as he was with his rifle, and unused
to such methods of locomotion. Presently he noticed a flutter
among the antelope, a raising of timid heads, an alarmed looking
in his direction. But Dick was prepared. He lay flat upon his
face, and dug the point of the long hunting knife that he carried
into the ground, while the wind blew out the folds of the red
handkerchief which he had tied to the handle.
Mr. Big Buck Antelope, the chief of the herd and a wary veteran,
saw the waving red spot on the horizon and his interest was
aroused, despite his caution. What a singular thing! It must be
investigated! It might be some new kind of food very good for
Mr. Big Buck's palate and stomach, and no provident antelope
could afford to let such an opportunity pass.
He was trembling all over with curiosity, and perhaps his
excitement kept him from seeing the dark shape that blurred with
the earth just beyond the red something, or he may have taken it
for a shadow. At any event, his curiosity kept him from paying
heed to it, and he began to approach. His steps were hesitating,
and now and then he drew away a little, but that singular red
object lured him on, and yard by yard he drew nearer.
He suddenly saw the black shadow beyond the fluttering red object
detach itself from the ground, and resolve into a terrible
shape. His heart sprang up in his bosom, and he was about to
rush madly away, but it was too late. A stream of fire shot
forth from the dark object and the buck fell, a bullet through
him.
Dick prepared the animal for dressing, thinking of the tender,
juicy steaks that Albert would enjoy, and then throwing the body
across the horse, behind him, rode back to the train, proud of
his success.
Conway frowned and said grudging words. He did not like, he
said, for anybody to leave the train without his permission, and
it was foolish, anyhow, for a boy to be galloping about as he
pleased over the prairie; he might get lost, and there would be
nobody to take care of the other boy, the sick one. Dick made an
easy diplomatic reply. He knew that Conway merely wished to be
unpleasant, but Dick was of a very good nature, and he was
particularly averse just then to quarreling with anybody. He was
too full of the glory of living. Instead, he offered some of the
antelope steaks to Conway, who churlishly accepted them, and that
night he broiled others for Albert and himself, dividing the rest
among the men.
Albert found antelope steak tender and juicy, and he ate with an
increasing appetite. Dick noted the increase with pleasure.
"I wish I could go out and kill antelope," said Albert.
Dick laughed cheerfully.
"Kill antelope," he said. "Why, Al, in six months you'll be
taking a grizzly bear by the neck and choking him to death with
your two hands."
"Wish I could believe it," said Albert.
But Dick went to sleep early that night, and slept peacefully
without dreams or visions, and the next morning the train resumed
its sanguine march. They were still ascending, and the character
of the country continued to improve. Bunch grass steadily grew
thicker and buffalo chips were numerous. The heat in the middle
of the day was still great, but the air was so dry and pure that
it was not oppressive. Albert dismounted from the wagon, and
walked for several miles by the side of his brother.
"Shouldn't be surprised if we saw buffalo," said Dick. "Heard
'em talking about it in the train. Bright Sun says these are
favorite grazing grounds, and there's still a lot of buffalo
scattered about the plains."
Albert showed excitement.
"A buffalo herd!" he exclaimed. "Do you think it can really
happen, Dick? I never thought I'd see such a thing! I hope
it'll come true!"
It came true much sooner than Albert hoped.
Scarcely a half hour after he spoke, Bright Sun, who was at the
head of the column, stopped his pony and pointed to indistinct
tiny shadows just under the horizon.
"Buffalo!" he said tersely, and after a moment's pause he added:
"A great herd comes!"
Dick and Albert were on foot then, but they heard his words and
followed his pointing finger with the deepest interest. The tiny
black shadows seemed to come out of the horizon as if they
stepped from a wall. They grew in size and number, and all the
west was filled with their forms.
The train resumed its march, bending off under the guidance of
Bright Sun a little toward the west, and it was obvious that the
herd would pass near. Dick and Albert rejoiced, because they
wished to see the buffaloes at close quarters, and Dick was
hoping also for a shot. Others, too, in the train, although
their minds were set on gold, began to turn their attention now
to the herd. The sport and the fresh meat alike would be
welcome. It was Dick's impulse to mount his horse and gallop
away again, gun in hand, but he made a supreme conquest over self
and remained. He remembered Albert's longing words about the
antelope, his wish that he, too, tireless, might be able to
pursue the game. Dick remained quietly by his brother's side.
The whole train stopped presently at Conway's order on the crest
of a swell, and drew itself up in a circle. Many of the men were
now mounted and armed for an attack upon the herd, but at the
suggestion of Bright Sun they waited a little, until the
opportunity should become more convenient.
"It is a big herd," said Bright Sun; "perhaps the biggest that
one can ever see now."
It certainly seemed immense to Dick and Albert. The great
animals came on in an endless stream from the blue wall of the
horizon. The vast procession steadily broadened and lengthened
and it moved with unceasing step toward the south. The body of
it was solid black, with figures which at the distance blended
into one mass, but on the flanks hung stragglers, lawless old
bulls or weaklings, and outside there was a fringe of hungry
wolves, snapping and snarling, and waiting a chance to drag down
some failing straggler.
Far over the plain spread the herd, thousands and tens of
thousands, and the earth shook with their tread. Confused,
bellowings and snortings arose, and the dust hung thick.
Dick and Albert stared with intent eyes at the wonderful scene.
The herd was drawing nearer and nearer. It would pass only a few
hundred yards from the crest on which the train stood. Already
the hunters were shouting to one another and galloping away, but
Dick did not stir from Albert's side. Albert's eyes were
expanded, and the new color in his face deepened. His breath cam
in the short, quick fashion of one who is excited. He suddenly
turned to his brother.
"The men are off! Why aren't you with them Dick?" he exclaimed.
"I thought I wouldn't go," replied Dick evasively. "There'll be
enough without me."
Albert stared. Not hunt buffalo when one could. It was
unbelievable. Then he comprehended. But he would not have it
that way! It was noble of Dick, but it should not be so for a
moment. He cried out, a note of anxiety in this voice:
"No, Dick, you shall not say here with me! My time will come
later on! Jump on your horse, Dick, and join 'em! I won't
forgive you if you don't!"
Dick saw that Albert was in earnest, and he knew that it would be
better for them both now if he should go.
"All right, Al!" he cried, "I'll pick out a good fat one." He
jumped on his horse and in a moment was galloping at full speed
over the plain toward the great herd which now rushed on, black
and thundering.
Dick heard shots already from those who had preceded him, and the
exultant shouts of the men mingled with the roar of mighty
tramplings. But it was not all triumph for the men, few of whom
were experienced. Two or three had been thrown by shying horses,
and with difficulty escaped being trodden to death under the feet
of the herd. The herd itself was so immense that it did not
notice these few wasps on a distant flank, and thundered steadily
on southward.
Dick's own horse, frightened by such a tremendous sight, shied
and jumped, but the boy had a sure seat and brought him around
again. Dick himself was somewhat daunted by the aspect of the
herd. If he and his hose got in the way, they would go down
forever, as surely as if engulfed by an avalanche.
The horse shied again and made a mighty jump, as a huge bull,
red-eyed and puffing, charged by. Dick, who was holding his
rifle in one hand, slipped far over, and with great difficulty
regained his balance on the horse's back. When he was secure
again, he turned his mount and galloped along for some distance
on the flank of the herd, seeking a suitable target for his
bullet. The effect was dizzying. So many thousands were rushing
beside him that the shifting panorama made him wink his eyes
rapidly. Vast clouds of dust floated about, now and then
enveloping him, and that made him wink his eyes, too. But he
continued, nevertheless, to seek for his target a fat cow.
Somehow he didn't seem to see anything just then but old bulls.
They were thick on the flanks of the herd either as stragglers or
protectors, and Dick was afraid to press in among them in his
search for the cow.
His opportunity came at last. A young cow, as fat as one could
wish, was thrown on the outside by some movement of the herd,
caught, as it were, like a piece of driftwood in an eddy, and
Dick instantly fired at her. She staggered and went down, but at
the same instant a huge, shaggy bull careened against Dick and
his horse. It was not so much a charge as an accident, the
chance of Dick's getting in the bull's way, and the boy's escape
was exceedingly narrow.
His horse staggered and fell to his knees. The violence of the
shock wrested Dick's rifle from his hand, and he was barely quick
enough to grasp it as it was sliding across the saddle. But he
did save it, and the horse, trembling and frightened, recovered
his feet. By that time the old bull and his comrades were gone.
Dick glanced around and was relieved to see that nobody had
noticed his plight. They were all too much absorbed in their own
efforts to pay any heed to him. The body took a deep, long
breath. He had killed a buffalo, despite his inexperience.
There was the cow to show for it.
The herd thundered off to the southward, the clouds of dust and
the fringe of wolves following it. About a dozen of their number
had fallen before the rifles, but Dick had secured the fattest
and the tenderest. Albert, as proud as Dick himself of his
triumph, came down on the plain and helped as much as he could in
skinning and cutting up the cow. Dick wished to preserve the
robe, and they spread it out on the wagon to dry.
The train made no further attempt to advance that day, but
devoted the afternoon to a great feast. Bright Sun showed them
how to cook the tenderest part of the hump in the coals, and far
into the night the fires blazed.
"We will see no more buffaloes for a while," said Bright Sun.
"To-morrow we reach another little river coming down from the
hills, and the ground becomes rough."
Bright Sun told the truth. They reached the river about noon of
the next day, and, as it flowed between steep banks, the crossing
was difficult. It took many hours to get on the other side, and
two or three axles were broken by the heavy jolts. Conway raged
and swore, calling them a clumsy lot, and some of the men refused
to take his abuse, replying to his hard words with others equally
as hard. Pistols were drawn and there was promise of trouble,
but it was finally stopped, partly by the persuasion of others,
and partly of its own accord. The men were still feeling the
desire for gold too strongly to fight while on the way to it.
Dick and Albert kept aloof from these contentions, steadily
minding their own business, and they found, as others do, that it
paid.
They came presently into a better country, and the way led for a
day or two through a typical part of the Great Plains, not a flat
region, but one of low, monotonous swells. Now and then they
crossed a shallow little creek, and occasionally they came to
pools, some of which were tinged with alkali. There were
numerous small depressions, two or three feet deep, and Dick knew
that they were "buffalo wallows." He and Albert examined them
with interest.
"This is buffalo country again," said Dick. "Everything proves
it. The grass here is the best that we have seen in a long time,
and I imagine that it's just the sort of place they would love."
The grass was, indeed, good, as Dick had said, not merely clumps
of it, but often wide, carpeted spaces. It was somewhat dry, and
turning brown, but so big and strong an animal as the buffalo
would not mind it. In fact, they saw several small groups of
buffaloes grazing at a distance, usually on the crest of one of
the low swells. As they already had plenty of buffalo meat, the
men of the train did not trouble them, and the great animals
would continue to crop the grass undisturbed.
About a week after the buffalo hunt they camped in a great plain
somewhat flatter than any that they had encountered hitherto, and
drew up the wagons in a loose circle.
The day had been very hot, but, as usual on the plains, the night
brought coolness. The fire which Dick made of buffalo chips was
not only useful, but it felt pleasant, too, as they sat beside
it, ate their supper, and watched the great inclosing circle of
darkness creep up closer and closer to the camp. There was not
much noise about them. The men were tired, and as soon as they
ate their food they fell asleep in the wagons or on the ground.
The tethered horses and mules stirred a little for a while, but
they, too, soon rested in peace.
"You take the wagon, Al," said Dick, "but I think I'll sleep on
the ground."
Albert said good night and disappeared in the wagon. Dick stood
up and looked over the camp. Only two or three fires were yet
burning, and not a dozen men were awake. He saw dark figures
here and there on the ground, and knew that they were those of
sleepers. Three sentinels had been posted, but Dick was quite
sure from the general character of the train that later on they
would sleep like the others. All his instincts of order and
fitness rebelled against the management of this camp.
Dick rolled himself in his blanket and lay down by the little
fire that he had built. The dry, clean earth made a good bed,
and with his left elbow under his head he gazed into the fire,
which, like all fires of buffalo chips, was now rapidly dying,
leaving little behind but light ashes that the first breeze would
scatter through space.
He watched the last blaze sink and go out, he saw the last coal
die, then, when a few sparks flew upward, there was blank
darkness where the fire had been. All the other fires were out,
too, and only the dim figures of the wagons showed. He felt, for
a little while, as if he were alone in the wilderness, but he was
not afraid. All was darkness below, and the wind was moaning,
but overhead was a blue sky filled with friendly stars.
Dick could not go to sleep for a long time. From the point where
he lay he could now see two of the sentinels walking back and
forth, rifle on shoulder. He did not believe that they would
continue to do so many hours, and he had a vague sort of desire
to prove that he was right. Having nothing else to do he watched
them.
The nearer sentinel grew lazier in his walk, and his beat became
shorter. At last he dropped his rifle to the ground, leaned his
folded arms on its muzzle, and gazed toward the camp, where, so
far as he could see, there was nothing but darkness and sleep.
The other presently did the same. Then they began short walks
back and forth, but soon both sat down on the ground, with their
rifles between their knees, and after that they did not stir.
Watching as closely as he could Dick could not observe the
slightest movement on the part of either, and he knew that they
were asleep. He laughed to himself, pleased, in a way, to know
that he had been right, although it was only another evidence of
the carelessness and indifference general throughout the train.
He fell asleep himself in another half hour, but he awoke about
midnight, and he was conscious at once that he had been awakened
not by a troubled mind, but by something external and unusual.
He was lying with his right ear to the ground, and it seemed to
him that a slight trembling motion ran through the solid earth.
He did not so much hear it as feel it, and tried to persuade
himself that it was mere fancy, but failed. He sat up, and he no
longer observed the trembling, but when he put his ear to the
ground again it was stronger.
It could not be fancy. It was something real and extraordinary.
He glanced at the sentinels, but they were sound asleep. He felt
a desire to rouse somebody, but if it proved to be nothing they
would laugh at him, or more likely call him hard names. He tried
ear to earth once more. The trembling was still growing in
strength, and mixed with it was a low, groaning sound, like the
swell of the sea on the shore. The sound came with the wind from
the north.
Dick sprang to his feet. There, in the north was a faint light
which grew with amazing rapidity. In a minutes almost it seemed
to redden the whole northern heavens, and the groaning sound
became a roll, like that of approaching thunder.
A shadow flitted by Dick.
"What is it, Bright Sun?? What is it?" exclaimed the boy.
"The dry grass burns, and a mighty buffalo herd flees before it."
Then Bright Sun was gone, and the full sense of their danger
burst upon Dick in overwhelming tide. The flames came on, as
fast as a horse's gallop, and the buffaloes, in thousands and
tens of thousands, were their vanguard. The camp lay directly in
the path of fire and buffalo. The awakened sentinels were on
their feet now, and half-clad men were springing from the wagons.
Dick stood perfectly still for perhaps a minute, while the fire
grew brighter and the thunder of a myriad hoofs grew louder.
Then he remembered what he had so often read and heard, and the
crisis stirred him to swift action. While the whole camp was a
scene of confusion, of shouts, of oaths, and of running men, he
sped to its south side, to a point twenty or thirty yards from
the nearest wagon. There he knelt in the dry grass and drew his
box of matches from his pocket. It happened that Conway saw.
"What are you doing, you boy?" he cried, threateningly.
But Dick did not care for Conway just then.
"Back fire! Back fire!" he shouted, and struck a match. It went
out, but he quickly struck another, shielded it with one hand and
touched the tiny flame to the grass. A flame equally tiny
answered, but in an instant it leaped into the size and strength
of a giant. The blaze rose higher than Dick's head, ran swiftly
to right and left, and then roared away to the south, eating up
everything in its path.
"Well done," said a voice at Dick's elbow. "It is the only thing
that could save the train."
It was Bright Sun who spoke, and he had come so silently that
Dick did not see him until then.
Conway understood now, but without a word of approval he turned
away and began to give orders, mixed with much swearing. He had
a rough sort of efficiency, and spurred by his tongue and their
own dreadful necessity, the men worked fast. The horses and
mules, except three or four which had broken loose and were lost,
were hitched to the wagons in half the usual time. There were no
sluggards now.
Dick helped, and Albert, too, but to both it seemed that the work
would never be done. The back fire was already a half mile away,
gathering volume and speed as it went, but the other was coming
on at an equal pace. Deer and antelope were darting past them,
and the horses and mules were rearing in terror.
"Into the burned ground," shouted Conway, "an' keep the wagons
close together!"
No need to urge the animals. They galloped southward over earth
which was still hot and smoking, but they knew that something was
behind them, far more terrible than sparks and smoke.
Dick made Albert jump into their own wagon, while he ran beside
it. As he ran, he looked back, and saw a sight that might well
fill the bravest soul with dread. A great black line, crested
with tossing horns, was bearing down on them. The thunder of
hoofs was like the roar of a hurricane, but behind the herd was a
vast wall of light, which seemed to reach from the earth to the
heavens and which gave forth sparks in myriads. Dick knew that
they had been just in time.
They did not stop until they had gone a full quarter of a mile,
and then the wagons were hastily drawn up in a rude circle, with
the animals facing the center, that is, the inside, and still
rearing and neighing in terror. Then the men, rifle in hand, and
sitting in the rear of the wagons, faced the buffalo herd.
Dick was with the riflemen, and, like the others, he began to
fire as soon as the vanguard of the buffaloes was near enough.
The wagons were a solid obstacle which not even King Bison could
easily run over, but Dick and Albert thought the herd would never
split, although the bullets were poured into it at a central
point like a driven wedge.
But the falling buffaloes were an obstacle to those behind them,
and despite their mad panic, the living became conscious of the
danger in front. The herd split at last, the cleft widened to
right and left, and then the tide, in two great streams, flowed
past the wagon train.
Dick ceased firing and sat with Albert on the tail of the wagon.
The wall of fire, coming to the burned ground, went out in the
center, but the right and left ends of it, swinging around, still
roared to the southward, passing at a distance of a quarter of a
mile on either side.
Dick and Albert watched until all the herd was gone, and when
only smoke and sparks were left, helped to get the camp into trim
again. Conway knew that the boy had saved them, but he gave him
no thanks.
It took the ground a long time to cool, and they advanced all the
next day over a burned area. They traveled northward ten days,
always ascending, and they were coming now to a wooded country.
They crossed several creeks, flowing down from the higher
mountains, and along the beds of these they found cottonwood,
ash, box elder, elm, and birch. On the steeper slops were
numerous cedar brakes and also groves of yellow pine. There was
very little undergrowth, but the grass grew in abundance.
Although it was now somewhat dry, the horses and mules ate it
eagerly. The buffaloes did not appear here, but they saw many
signs of bear, mule deer, panther or mountain lion, and other
game.
They camped one night in a pine grove by the side of a brook that
came rushing and foaming down from the mountains, and the next
morning Albert, who walked some distance from the water, saw a
silver-tip bear lapping the water of the stream. The bear raised
his head and looked at Albert, and Albert stopped and looked at
the bear. The boy was unarmed, but he was not afraid. The bear
showed no hostility, only curiosity. He gazed a few moments,
stretched his nose as if he would sniff the air, then turned and
lumbered away among the pines. Albert returned to camp, but he
said nothing of the bear to anybody except Dick.
"He was such a jolly, friendly looking fellow, Dick," he said,
"that I didn't want any of these men to go hunting him."
Dick laughed.
"Don't you worry about that, Al," he said. "They are hunting gold,
not bears."
On the twelfth day they came out on a comparatively level
plateau, where antelope were grazing and prairie chickens
whirring. It looked like a fertile country, and they were glad
of easy traveling for the wagons. Just at the edge of the pine
woods that they were leaving was a beautiful little lake of
clear, blue water, by which they stayed half a day, refreshing
themselves, and catching some excellent fish, the names of
which they did not know.
"How much long, Bright Sun, will it take us to reach the gold
country?" asked Conway of the Indian, in Dick's hearing.
"About a week," replied Bright Sun. "The way presently will be
very rough and steep, up! up! up! and we can go only a few miles
a day, but the mountains are already before us. See!"
He pointed northward and upward, and there before them was the
misty blue loom that Dick knew was the high mountains. In those
dark ridges lay the gold that they were going to seek, and his
heart throbbed. Albert and he could do such wonderful things
with it.
They were so high already that the nights were crisp with cold;
but at the edge of the forest, running down to the little lake,
fallen wood was abundant, and they built that night a great fire
of fallen boughs that crackled and roared merrily. Yet they
hovered closely, because the wind, sharp with ice, was whistling
down from the mountains, and the night air, even in the little
valley, was heavy with frost. Dick's buffalo robe was dry now,
and he threw it around Albert, as he sat before the fire. It
enveloped the boy like a great blanket, but far warmer, the soft,
smooth fur caressing his cheeks, and as Albert drew it closer, he
felt very snug indeed.
"We cross this valley to-morrow," said Dick, "and then we begin a
steeper climb."
"Then it will be mountains, only mountains," said Bright Sun.
"We go into regions which no white men except the fur hunters,
have ever trod."
Dick started. He had not known that the Indian was near.
Certainly he was not there a moment ago. There was something
uncanny in the way in which Bright Sun would appear on noiseless
footstep, like a wraith rising from the earth.
"I shall be glad of it, Bright Sun," said Albert. "I'm tired of
the plains, and they say that the mountains are good for many
ills."
Bright Sun's enigmatic glance rested upon Albert a moment.
"Yes," he said, "the mountains will cure many ills."
Dick glanced at him, and once more he received the impression of
thought and power. The Indian's nose curved like an eagle's
beak, and the firelight perhaps exaggerated both the curve and
its effect. The whole impression of thought and force was
heightened by the wide brow and the strong chin.
Dick looked back into the fire, and when he glanced around a few
moments again, Bright Sun was not there. He had gone as silently
as he had come.
"That Indian gives me the shivers sometimes," he said to Albert.
"What do you make of him?"
"I don't know," replied the boy. "Sometimes I like him and
sometimes I don't."
Albert was soon asleep, wrapped in the buffalo robe, and Dick by
and by followed him to the same pleasant land. The wind,
whistling as it blew down from the mountains, grew stronger and
colder, and its tone was hostile, as if it resented the first
presence of white men in the little valley by the lake.