by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FOUR.
GOING ON A GREAT HUNT.
It was full three weeks before Hugot returned. They were a long threeweeks to the old Colonel,--who was troubled with apprehensions thatHugot would not succeed in his errand. He had written in reply to theletter of Prince Bonaparte. He had written promising to procure--_ifpossible_--a white buffalo-skin--for this was what the Prince's letterwas about;--and not for half what he was worth would the Colonel havefailed to accomplish this object. No wonder, then, he was impatient anduneasy during Hugot's absence.
Hugot returned at length, after night. The Colonel did not wait untilhe entered the house, but met him at the door, candle in hand. He neednot have put any question, as Hugot's face answered that question beforeit was asked. The moment the light fell upon it, any one could havetold that Hugot had come back _without the skin_. He looked quitecrest-fallen; and his great moustachios appeared bleached and drooping.
"You have not got it?" interrogated the Colonel, in a faltering voice.
"No, Colonel," muttered Hugot, in reply.
"You tried everywhere?"
"Everywhere."
"You advertised in the papers?"
"In all the papers, monsieur."
"You offered a high price?"
"I did. It was to no purpose. I could not have procured a whitebuffalo's skin if I had offered ten times as much. I could not have gotit for a thousand dollars."
"I would give five thousand!"
"It would have been all the same, monsieur. It is not to be had inSaint Louis."
"What says Monsieur Choteau?"
"That there is but little chance of finding what you want. A man, hesays, may travel all over the prairies without meeting with a _white_buffalo. The Indians prize them beyond anything, and never let oneescape when they chance to fall in with it. I found two or three amongthe fur packs of the traders; but they were not what you desire,monsieur. They were robes; and even for them a large sum was asked."
"They would be of no use. It is wanted for a different purpose--for a_great museum_. Ah! I fear I cannot obtain it. If not to be had inSaint Louis, where else?"
"Where else, papa?" interrupted Francois, who, with his brothers, hadstood listening to the above dialogue. "Where else, but _on theprairies_?"
"On the prairies!" mechanically echoed his father.
"Yes, papa. Send Basil, and Lucien, and myself. We'll find you a whitebuffalo, I warrant you."
"Hurrah, Francois!" cried Basil; "you're right, brother. I was going topropose the same myself."
"No, no, my lads; you've heard what Monsieur Choteau says. You need notthink of such a thing. It cannot be had. And I have written to thePrince, too. I have as good as promised him!"
As the old Colonel uttered these words, his countenance and gesturesexpressed disappointment and chagrin.
Lucien, who had observed this with a feeling of pain, now interposed.
"Papa," he said, "it is true that Monsieur Choteau has great experiencein the fur-trade; but the facts do not correspond with what he hasstated,"--(Lucien, you will observe, was a keen reasoner). "Hugot hasseen two or three of these skins in Saint Louis. Some one must havefound the animals to which these belonged. Moreover, I have heard, asMonsieur Choteau asserts, that they are highly prized by the Indianchiefs, who wear them as robes; and that they are often seen among thetribes. This, then, proves that there _are_ white buffaloes upon theprairies; and why should _we_ not happen upon them as well as others? Isay with Francois and Basil, let us go in search of them."
"Come in, my lads; come in!" said their father, evidently pleased, andto some extent comforted, with the proposal of his boys. "Come in tothe house--we can talk over it better when we have had our suppers."
And so saying, the old Colonel hobbled back into the house followed byhis three boys; while Hugot, looking very jaded and feeling very hungry,brought up the rear.
During the supper, and after it, the subject was discussed in all itsbearings. The father was more than half inclined to consent to theproposal of his sons from the first; while they, but particularly Basiland Francois, were enthusiastic in proving its practicability. I needhardly tell you the result. The Colonel at length gave his consent--the_expedition was agreed upon_.
The naturalist was greatly influenced by the desire he felt to gratifyhis friend the Prince. He was influenced, too, by another feeling. Hefelt secretly pleased at the bold and enterprising character thusexhibited in his children, and he was not the man to throw cold waterupon any enterprise they might design. Indeed, he often boasted to hisneighbours and friends how he had trained them up to be men, callingthem his "boy-men," and his "_jeunes chasseurs_." And truly had hetrained them to a complete self-reliance, as far as lay in his power.He had taught them to ride, to swim, to dive deep rivers, to fling thelasso, to climb tall trees, and scale steep cliffs, to bring down birdsupon the wing, or beasts upon the run, with the arrow and the unerringrifle. He had trained them to sleep in the open air--in the darkforest--on the unsheltered prairie--along the white snow-wreath--anywhere--with but a blanket or a buffalo-robe for their beds. He hadtaught them to live upon the simplest food; and the knowledge ofpractical botany which he had imparted to them--more particularly toLucien--would enable them, in case of need, to draw sustenance fromplants and trees, from roots and fruits--to find resources whereignorant men might starve. They knew how to kindle a fire withouteither flint, steel, or detonating powder. They could discover theirdirection without a compass--from the rocks, and the trees, and thesigns of the heavens; and, in addition to all, they had been taught, asfar as was then known, the geography of that vast wilderness thatstretched from their own home to the far shores of the Pacific Ocean.
The Colonel knew that he might safely trust them upon the prairies; and,in truth, it was with a feeling of pride, rather than anxiety, that heconsented to the expedition. But there was still another motive thatinfluenced him--perhaps the most powerful of all. He was inspired bythe pride of the naturalist. He thought of the triumph he would obtainby sending such a rare contribution to the great museum of Europe. Ifever, my young reader, you should become a naturalist, you willcomprehend how strong this feeling may be; and with ourhunter-naturalist it was so.
At first he proposed that Hugot should accompany them. This the boyswould not hear of, and all three stoutly opposed it. They could notthink of taking Hugot--their father would require Hugot at home--Hugotwould be of no use to them, they said. They would do as well, if notbetter, without him.
The truth was, that these ambitious young hunters did not wish to berobbed of any part of the credit of their enterprise--which they knewwould be the case if Hugot were to accompany them. Not that Hugot wasby any means a noted hunter--quite the contrary--nor a warrior neither,notwithstanding he had been a _chasseur a cheval_, and wore such fiercemoustachios. All this his old Colonel knew very well; and therefore didnot much insist upon sending Hugot with them.
Hugot's talents shone best in another sphere of action--in the_cuisine_. There Hugot was at home, for he could compound an omelette,fricassee a chicken, or dress a _canard aux olives_, with Monsieur Soyerhimself. But Hugot--although for many years he had accompanied his oldand young masters in the chase--had no taste whatever for hunting. Hehad a wholesome dread of bears and panthers, and as to Indians ... Ha!_Indians_!
Now you will wonder, my young friend, when you come to think of theseIndians--when you come to consider that fifty warlike nations of themlive and roam over the prairies--many of them sworn foes to white men,killing the latter wherever they may meet them, as you would a mad dogor a poisonous spider,--I say, when you consider these things, you willwonder that this old French or Corsican father should consent to let hissons go upon so dangerous an expedition. It seems unnatural, does itnot? In fact, quite improbable, when we come to reflect that theColonel dearly loved his three sons, almost as dearly as his own life.And yet one would say, he could hardly have found a re
adier plan to getrid of them, than thus to send them forth among savages. Upon what,then, did he rely for their safety? On their age? No. He knew theIndians better than that. He knew very well that their age would not becared for, should they chance to fall in with any of the tribes hostileto the whites. It is true, that the savages might not scalp them onthis account--being boys,--but they would be very certain to carry theminto a captivity from which they might never return. Or did theirfather anticipate that the excursion should extend no farther than thecountry of some friendly tribe? He entertained no such idea. Had thisbeen their plan, their errand would have been likely to prove fruitless.In a country of that sort they would have seen but little of thebuffalo; for it is well-known that the buffaloes are only found inplenty upon those parts of the prairies termed "war grounds"--that is,where several tribes go to hunt, who are at war with each other. Infact, that is the reason why these animals are more numerous there thanelsewhere, as the hunters are fewer, on account of the danger they incurof coming into collision with each other. In a territory which isexclusively in possession of any particular tribe, the buffaloes aresoon killed or run off by incessant hunting. It is a fact, therefore,well-known among prairie-hunters, that wherever buffaloes are plentythere is plenty of danger as well, though the converse of this is notalways true. On the neutral or "war grounds" of the Indians, you maymeet with a friendly tribe one day, and on the next, or even within thenext hour, you may fall in with a band of savages who will scalp you onsight.
Now, the father of our three boy hunters knew all this, as well as Iknow it. How then are we to account for his apparently unnaturalconduct, in permitting them to risk their lives in such an enterprise?It would be quite unaccountable indeed were it not that there was a_mystery_ connected with it, which I shall explain to you hereafter.All I can tell you now is, that when the three were mounted and about tostart, the Colonel hobbled up; and, drawing from his pocket a smallleathern bag or case ornamented with stained porcupine quills, he handedit to Basil, saying as he did so: "_Take good care of it, Basil_--_youknow its use_--_never let it part from you_--_your lives may depend uponit. God be with you, my brave boys. Adieu_!" Basil took the case,passed the string over his shoulders, pushed the bag under the breast ofhis hunting-shirt, pressed his father's hand, and putting the spur tohis horse rode briskly off. Lucien saluted his father with a kiss,waved his hand gracefully to Hugot, and followed. Francois remained amoment behind the rest--rode up to Hugot--caught hold of his greatmoustache, gave it a twitch that caused the _ex-chasseur_ to grin again;and then, with a loud yell of laughter, wheeled his pony, and gallopedafter his brothers.
The Colonel and Hugot stood for some moments watching them. When theboy hunters had reached the edge of the woods, all three reined up,turned in their saddles, and, taking off their hats, uttered a partingcheer. The Colonel and Hugot cheered in return. When the noise hadsubsided, the voice of Francois was heard shouting back,--
"Fear not, papa! we'll bring you the _white buffalo_!"
