CHAPTER ELEVEN.
EVENING MEDITATIONS AND MORNING REFLECTIONS--BUFFALOES, BADGERS,ANTELOPES, AND ACCIDENTS--AN OLD BULL AND THE WOLVES--"MAD-TAILS"--HENRIFLOORED, ETCETERA.
There is nothing that prepares one so well for the enjoyment of rest,both mental and physical, as a long-protracted period of excitement andanxiety, followed up by bodily fatigue. Excitement alone banishes rest;but, united with severe physical exertion, it prepares for it. Atleast, courteous reader, this is our experience, and certainly this wasthe experience of our three hunters as they lay on their backs beneaththe branches of a willow bush, and gazed serenely up at the twinklingstars, two days after their escape from the Indian village.
They spoke little; they were too tired for that; also, they were toocomfortable. Their respective suppers of fresh antelope steak, shotthat day, had just been disposed of; their feet were directed towardsthe small fire on which the said steaks had been cooked, and which stillthrew a warm, ruddy glow over the encampment. Their blankets werewrapped comfortably round them, and tucked in as only hunters andmothers know _how_ to tuck them in. Their respective pipes deliveredforth, at stated intervals, three richly yellow puffs of smoke, as if athree-gun battery were playing upon the sky from that particular spot ofearth. The horses were picketted and hobbled in a rich grassy bottomclose by, from which the quiet munch of their equine jaws soundedpleasantly, for it told of healthy appetites, and promised speed on themorrow. The fear of being overtaken during the night was now past, andthe faithful Crusoe, by virtue of sight, hearing, and smell, guaranteedthem against sudden attack during the hours of slumber. A perfume ofwild flowers mingled with the loved odours of the "weed," and the tinkleof a tiny rivulet fell sweetly on their ears. In short, the"Pale-faces" were supremely happy, and disposed to be thankful for theirrecent deliverance and their present comforts.
"I wonder what the stars are," said Dick, languidly taking the pipe outof his mouth.
"Bits o' fire," suggested Joe.
"I tink dey are vorlds," muttered Henri, "an' have peepels in dem. Ihave hear men say dat."
A long silence followed, during which, no doubt, the star-gazers wereworking out various theories in their own minds.
"Wonder," said Dick again, "how far off they be."
"A mile or two, maybe," said Joe.
Henri was about to laugh sarcastically at this; but, on furtherconsideration, he thought it would be more comfortable not to, so he laystill. In another minute he said--"Joe Blunt, you is ver' igrant.Don't you know dat de books say de stars be hondreds, tousands,--oh!milleryons of mile away to here, and dat de is more bigger dan disvorld?"
Joe snored lightly, and his pipe fell out of his mouth at this point, sothe conversation dropped. Presently Dick asked, in a low tone, "I say,Henri, are ye asleep?"
"Oui," replied Henri, faintly. "Don't speak, or you vill vaken me."
"Ah! Crusoe, you're not asleep, are you, pup?" No need to ask thatquestion. The instantaneous wag of that speaking fail, and the glanceof that wakeful eye, as the dog lifted his head and laid his chin onDick's arm, showed that he had been listening to every word that wasspoken. We cannot say whether he understood it, but beyond all doubt heheard it. Crusoe never presumed to think of going to sleep until hismaster was as sound as a top; then he ventured to indulge in that lightspecies of slumber which is familiarly known as "sleeping with one eyeopen." But, comparatively, as well as figuratively speaking, Crusoeslept usually with one eye and a-half open, and the other half was neververy tightly shut.
Gradually Dick's pipe fell out of his mouth, an event which the dog,with an exercise of instinct almost, if not quite, amounting to reason,regarded as a signal for him to go off. The campfire went slowly out,the stars twinkled down at their reflections in the brook, and a deepbreathing of wearied men was the only sound that rose in harmony withthe purling stream.
Before the sun rose next morning, and while many of the brighter starswere still struggling for existence with the approaching day, Joe was upand buckling on the saddle-bags, while he shouted to his unwillingcompanions to rise.
"If it depended on you," he said, "the Pawnees wouldn't be long aforethey got our scalps. Jump, ye dogs, an' lend a hand, will ye!"
A snore from Dick and a deep sigh from Henri was the answer to thispathetic appeal. It so happened, however, that Henri's pipe, in fallingfrom his lips, had emptied the ashes just under his nose, so that thesigh referred to drew a quantity thereof into his throat, and almostchoked him. Nothing could have been a more effective awakener. He wasup in a moment coughing vociferously. Most men have a tendency to ventill-humour on some one, and they generally do it on one whom they deemto be worse than themselves. Henri, therefore, instead of growling atJoe for rousing him, scolded Dick for not rising.
"Ha, mauvais dog! bad chien, vill you dare to look to me?"
Crusoe did look with amiable placidity, as though to say, "Howl away,old boy, I won't budge till Dick does."
With a mighty effort Giant Sleep was thrown off at last, and the hunterswere once more on their journey, cantering lightly over the soft turf.
"Ho! let's have a run," cried Dick, unable to repress the feelingsaroused by the exhilarating morning air.
"Have a care, boy," cried Joe, as they stretched out at full gallop."Keep off the ridge; it's riddled wi' badger--Hah! I thought so."
At that moment Dick's horse put its foot into a badger hole, and turnedcompletely over, sending its rider through the air in a curve that anEast Indian acrobat would have envied. For a few seconds Dick lay flaton his back; then he jumped up and laughed, while his comrades hurriedup anxiously to his assistance.
"No bones broke?" inquired Joe.
Dick gave a hysterical gasp. "I--I think not."
"Let's have a look. No, nothin' to speak o', be good luck. Ye shouldniver go slap through a badger country like that, boy; always keep i'the bottoms, where the grass is short. Now then, up ye go. That's it!"
Dick remounted, though not with quite so elastic a spring as usual, andthey pushed forward at a more reasonable pace.
Accidents of this kind are of common occurrence in the prairies. Somehorses, however, are so well trained that they look sharp out for theseholes, which are generally found to be most numerous on the high and drygrounds. But in spite of all the caution both of man and horse, manyugly falls take place, and sometimes bones are broken.
They had not gone far after this accident, when an antelope leaped froma clump of willows and made for a belt of woodland that lay along themargin of a stream not half a mile off.
"Hurrah!" cried Dick, forgetting his recent fall. "Come along, Crusoe."And away they went again full tilt, for the horse had not been injuredby its somersault.
The antelope which Dick was thus wildly pursuing was of the same speciesas the one he had shot some time before, namely, the prong-hornedantelope. These graceful creatures have long, slender limbs, delicatelyformed heads, and large, beautiful eyes. The horns are black, andrather short; they have no branches like the antlers of the red-deer,but have a single projection on each horn, near the head, and theextreme points of the horns curve suddenly inwards, forming the hook orprong from which the name of the animal is derived. Their colour isdark yellowish brown. They are so fleet that not one horse in a hundredcan overtake them, and their sight and sense of smell are so acute, thatit would be next to impossible to kill them, were it not for theinordinate curiosity which we have before referred to. The Indiansmanage to attract these simple little creatures by merely lying down ontheir backs and kicking their heels in the air, or by waving any whiteobject on the point of an arrow, while the hunter keeps concealed bylying flat in the grass. By these means a herd of antelopes may beinduced to wheel round and round an object in timid, but intense,surprise, gradually approaching until they come near enough to enablethe hunter to make sure of his mark. Thus the animals, which of allothers _ought_ to be the most difficult to slay, are, in consequence oftheir insatiable cu
riosity, more easily shot than any other deer of theplains.
May we not gently suggest to the reader for his or her considerationthat there are human antelopes, so to speak, whose case bears a strikingresemblance to the prong-horn of the North American prairie?
Dick's horse was no match for the antelope; neither was Crusoe, so theypulled up shortly and returned to their companions to be laughed at.
"It's no manner o' use to wind yer horse, lad, after sich game. They'renot much worth, an', if I mistake not, we'll be among the buffalo soon.There's fresh tracks everywhere, and the herds are scattered now. Yesee, when they keep together in bands o' thousands ye don't so oftenfall in wi' them. But when they scatters about in twos, an' threes, ansixes, ye may shoot them every day as much as ye please."
Several groups of buffalo had already been seen on the horizon; but as ared-deer had been shot in a belt of woodland the day before, they didnot pursue them. The red-deer is very much larger than the prong-hornedantelope, and is highly esteemed both for its flesh and its skin, whichlatter becomes almost like chamois leather when dressed.Notwithstanding this supply of food, the hunters could not resist thetemptation to give chase to a herd of about nine buffaloes that suddenlycame into view as they overtopped an undulation in the plain.
"It's no use," cried Dick, "I _must_ go at them!"
Joe himself caught fire from the spirit of his young friend, so callingto Henri to come on and let the pack-horse remain to feed, he dashedaway in pursuit. The buffaloes gave one stare of surprise, and thenfled as fast as possible. At first it seemed as if such huge, unwieldycarcases could not run very fast; but in a few minutes they managed toget up a pace that put the horses to their mettle. Indeed, at first itseemed as if the hunters did not gain an inch, but by degrees theyclosed with them, for buffaloes are not long-winded.
On nearing the herd, the three men diverged from each other and selectedtheir animals. Henri, being short-sighted, naturally singled out thelargest; and the largest--also naturally,--was a tough old bull. Joebrought down a fat young cow at the first shot, and Dick was equallyfortunate. But he well-nigh shot Crusoe, who, just as he was about tofire, rushed in unexpectedly and sprang at the animal's throat, forwhich piece of recklessness he was ordered back to watch the pack-horse.
Meanwhile, Henri, by dint of yelling, throwing his arms wildly about,and digging his heels into the sides of his long-legged horse, succeededin coming close up with the bull, which once or twice turned his clumsybody half round and glared furiously at its pursuer with its small blackeyes. Suddenly it stuck out its tail, stopped short, and turned fullround. Henri stopped short also. Now, the sticking out of a buffalo'stail has a peculiar significance which it is well to point out. Itserves, in a sense, the same purpose to the hunter that the compass doesto the mariner; it points out where to go and what to do. Whengalloping away in ordinary flight the buffalo carries his tail likeordinary cattle, which indicates that you may push on. When wounded, helashes it from side to side, or carries it over his back, up in the air;this indicates "Look out! haul off a bit!" But when he carries it stiffand horizontal, with a _slight curve_ in the middle of it, it saysplainly, "Keep back, or kill me as quick as you can," for that is whatIndians call the _mad-lazy_, and is a sign that mischief is brewing.
Henri's bull displayed the mad-tail just before turning, but he didn'tobserve it, and, accordingly, waited for the bull to move and show hisshoulder for a favourable shot. But instead of doing this he put hishead down, and, foaming with rage, went at him full tilt. The big horsenever stirred; it seemed to be petrified. Henri had just time to fireat the monster's neck, and the next moment was sprawling on his back,with the horse rolling over four or five yards beyond him. It was amost effective tableau. Henri rubbing his shins and grinning with pain,the horse gazing in affright as he rose trembling from the plain, andthe buffalo bull looking on half stunned, and, evidently, very muchsurprised at the result of his charge.
Fortunately, before he could repeat the experiment, Dick galloped up andput a ball through his heart.
Joe and his comrades felt a little ashamed of their exploit on thisoccasion, for there was no need to have killed three animals; they couldnot have carried with them more than a small portion of one, and theyupbraided themselves several times during the operation of cutting outthe tongues and other choice portions of the two victims. As for thebull, he was almost totally useless, so they left him as a gift to thewolves.
Now that they had come among the buffalo, wolves were often seensneaking about and licking their hungry jaws; but although theyapproached pretty near to the camp at nights, they did not give thehunters any concern. Even Crusoe became accustomed to them at last, andceased to notice them. These creatures are very dangerous sometimes,however, and when hard pressed by hunger will even attack man. The dayafter this hunt the travellers came upon a wounded old buffalo which hadevidently escaped from the Indians (for a couple of arrows were stickingin its side), only to fall a prey to his deadly enemies, the whitewolves. These savage brutes hang on the skirts of the herds ofbuffaloes to attack and devour any one that may chance, from old age, orfrom being wounded, to linger behind the rest. The buffalo is tough andfierce, however, and fights so desperately that although surrounded byfifty or a hundred wolves, he keeps up the unequal combat for severaldays before he finally succumbs.
The old bull that our travellers discovered had evidently been longengaged with his ferocious adversaries, for his limbs and flesh weretorn in shreds in many places, and blood was streaming from his sides.Yet he had fought so gallantly that he had tossed and stamped to deathdozens of the enemy. There could not have been fewer than fifty wolvesround him; and they had just concluded another of many futile attacks,when the hunters came up, for they were ranged in a circle round theirhuge adversary--some lying down, some sitting on their haunches to rest,and others sneaking about, lolling out their red tongues, and lickingtheir chops as if impatient to renew the combat. The poor buffalo wasnearly spent, and it was clear that a few hours more would see him tornto shreds and his bones picked clean.
"Ugh! de brutes," ejaculated Henri.
"They don't seem to mind us a bit," remarked Dick, as they rode up towithin pistol shot.
"It'll be merciful to give the old fellow a shot," said Joe. "Themvarmits are sure to finish him at last."
Joe raised his rifle as he spoke, and fired. The old bull gave his lastgroan and fell, while the wolves, alarmed by the shot, fled in alldirections; but they did not run far. They knew well that some portion,at least, of the carcase would fall to their share, so they sat down atvarious distances all round, to wait as patiently as they might for thehunters to retire. Dick left the scene with a feeling of regret thatthe villanous wolves should have their feast so much sooner than theyexpected.
Yet after all, why should we call these wolves villanous? They didnothing wrong--nothing contrary to the laws of their peculiar nature.Nay, if we come to reason upon it, they rank higher in this matter thanman, for while the wolf does no violence to the laws of its instincts,man often deliberately silences the voice of conscience, and violatesthe laws of his own nature. But we will not insist on the term, goodreader, if you object strongly to it. We are willing to admit that thewolves are _not_ villanous, but, _assuredly_, they are unlovable.
In the course of the afternoon the three horsemen reached a small creek,the banks of which were lined with a few stunted shrubs and trees.Having eaten nothing since the night before, they dismounted here to"feed," as Joe expressed it.
"Cur'ous thing," remarked Joe, as he struck a light by means of flint,steel, and tinder-box,--"curious thing that we're made to need sich alot o' grub. If we could only get on like the sarpints, now, wot canbreakfast on a rabbit, and then wait a month or two for dinner! Ain'tit cur'ous?"
Dick admitted that it was, and stooped to blow the fire into a blaze.
Here Henri uttered a cry of consternation, and stood speechless, withhis mouth open.
> "What's the matter? what is't?" cried Dick and Joe, seizing their riflesinstinctively.
"De--grub--him--be--forgat!"
There was a look of blank horror, and then a burst of laughter from DickVarley. "Well, well," cried he, "we've got lots o' tea an' sugar, an'some flour; we can git on wi' that till we shoot another buffalo, ora-ha!"
Dick observed a wild turkey stalking among the willows as he spoke. Itwas fully a hundred yards off, and only its head was seen above theleaves. This was a matter of little moment, however, for by aiming alittle lower he knew that he must hit the body; but Dick had driven thenail too often to aim at its body; he aimed at the bird's eye and cutits head off.
"Fetch it, Crusoe."
In three minutes it was at Dick's feet, and it is not too much to saythat in five minutes more it was in the pot.
As this unexpected supply made up for the loss of the meat which Henrihad forgotten at their last halting-place, their equanimity wasrestored, and while the meal was in preparation Dick shouldered hisrifle and went into the bush to try for another turkey. He did not getone, however, but he shot a couple of prairie-hens, which are excellenteating. Moreover, he found a large quantity of wild grapes and plums.These were unfortunately not nearly ripe, but Dick resolved to try hishand at a new dish, so he stuffed the breast of his coat full of them.
After the pot was emptied Dick washed it out, and put a little cleanwater in it. Then he poured some flour in, and stirred it well. Whilethis was heating, he squeezed the sour grapes and plums into what Joecalled a "mush," mixed it with a spoonful of sugar, and emptied it intothe pot. He also skimmed a quantity of the fat from the remains of theturkey soup, and added that to the mess, which he stirred with earnestdiligence till it boiled down into a sort of thick porridge.
"D'ye think it'll be good?" asked Joe gravely; "I've me doubts of it."
"We'll see. Hold the tin dish, Henri."
"Take care of de fingers. Ha! it looks magnifique--superb!"
The first spoonful produced an expression on Henri's face that needednot to be interpreted. It was as sour as vinegar.
"Ye'll ha' to eat it yerself, Dick, lad," cried Joe, throwing down hisspoon, and spitting out the unsavoury mess.
"Nonsense," cried Dick, bolting two or three mouthfuls, and trying tolook as if he liked it. "Try again; it's not so bad as you think."
"Ho--o--o--o--o!" cried Henri, after the second mouthful. "'Tisvinaigre. All de sugare in de pack would not make more sweeter one biteof it."
Dick was obliged to confess the dish a failure, so it was thrown outafter having been offered to Crusoe, who gave it one sniff and turnedaway in silence. Then they mounted and resumed their journey.
At this place mosquitoes and horse-flies troubled our hunters and theirsteeds a good deal. The latter--especially were very annoying to thepoor horses. They bit them so much that the blood at last cametrickling down their sides. They were troubled also, once or twice, bycockchafers and locusts, which annoyed them, not indeed by biting, butby flying blindly against their faces, and often narrowly missed hittingthem in the eyes. Once particularly they were so bad, that Henri in hiswrath opened his lips to pronounce a malediction on the whole race, whena cockchafer flew straight into his mouth, and, to use his own forcibleexpression, "nearly knocked him off de hoss." But these were minorevils, and scarcely cost the hunters a thought.
The Dog Crusoe and his Master Page 11
