by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
A SUPPER OF WOLF-MUTTON.
Our condition was now lamentable indeed. We even hungered for ourbreakfast, and had nothing to eat. The fire had consumed everything. Aparty went to look for the remains of the buffalo-bull killed by theguides, but returned without a morsel of meat. The wolves had cleanedthe carcass to a skeleton. The marrow bones, however, still remained,and these were brought in--afterwards, the same parts of the four cows;and we made our breakfast on marrow--eating it raw--not but that we hadfire enough, but it is less palatable when cooked.
What was next to be done? We held a consultation, and of course came tothe resolve to strike for the nearest settlement--that was the frontiertown of Independence on the Missouri River. It was nearly three hundredmiles off, and we calculated in reaching it in about twenty days. Weonly reckoned the miles we should have to traverse. We allowed nothingfor the numerous delays, caused by marshes and the fording of floodedstreams. It afterwards proved that our calculation was incorrect. Itwas nearly twice twenty days before we arrived at Independence.
We never thought of following the trail of the Indians to recover ourhorses. We knew they were gone far beyond pursuit, but even could wehave come up with them, it would only have been to imperil our lives inan unequal strife. We gave up our horses as lost, and only deliberatedon how we were to undertake the journey afoot.
Here a serious question arose. Should we at once turn our faces to thesettlement, how were we to subsist on the way? By heading forIndependence we should at once get clear of the buffalo-range, and whatother game was to be depended on? A stray deer, rabbit, or prairiegrouse might suffice to sustain a single traveller for a long time, butthere were ten of us. How was this number to be fed on the way? Evenwith our horses to carry us in pursuit of game, we had not been able onour outward journey to procure enough for all. How much less ouropportunity now that we were afoot!
To head directly homeward therefore was not to be thought of. We shouldassuredly perish by the way.
After much discussion it was agreed that we should remain for some dayswithin the buffalo-range, until we had succeeded in obtaining a supplyof meat, and then each carrying his share we should begin our journeyhomeward. In fact, this was not a disputed point. All knew thereremained no other way of saving our lives. The only difference ofopinion was as to the direction we should ramble in search of thebuffalo; for although we knew that we were on the outskirts of a greatherd, we were not certain as to its whereabouts, and by taking a falsedirection we might get out of its range altogether.
It so happened, however, that fortune lately so adverse, now took a turnin our favour, and the great buffalo drove was found without muchtrouble on our part. Indeed almost without any exertion, farther thanthat of loading and firing our guns, we came into possession of beefenough to have victualled an army. We had, moreover, the excitement ofa grand hunt, although we no longer hunted for the sport of the thing.
During that day we scattered in various directions over the prairie,agreeing to meet again at night. The object of our thus separating wasto enable us to cover a greater extent of ground, and afford a betterchance of game. To our mutual chagrin we met at the appointedrendezvous all of us empty-handed. The only game brought in was acouple of marmots (prairie dogs), that would not have been sufficientfor the supper of a cat. They were not enough to give each of the partya taste, so we were compelled to go without supper. Having had but ameagre breakfast and no dinner, it will not be wondered at that we wereby this time as hungry as wolves; and we began to dread that death bystarvation was nearer than we thought of. Buffaloes--several smallgangs of them--had been seen during the day, but so shy that none ofthem could be approached. Another day's failure would place our livesin a perilous situation indeed; and as these thoughts passed through ourminds, we gazed on each other with looks that betokened apprehension andalarm. The bright blaze of the camp-fire--for the cold had compelled usto kindle one--no longer lit up a round of joyful faces. It shone uponchecks haggard with hunger and pallid with fear. There was no story forthe delighted listener--no adventure to be related. We were no longerthe historians, but the real actors in a drama--a drama whose_denouement_ might be a fearful one.
As we sat gazing at each other, in hopes of giving or receiving somemorsel of comfort and encouragement, we noticed old Ike silently glidefrom his place by the fire, and after a whisper to us to remain silent,crawl off on his hands and knees. He had seen something doubtless, andhence his singular conduct. In a few minutes his prostrate form waslost in the darkness, and for some time we saw or heard no more of him.At length we were startled by the whip-like crack of the guide's rifle,and fancying it might be Indians, each sprang up in some alarm andseized his gun. We were soon reassured, however, by seeing the uprightform of the trapper as he walked deliberately back towards thecamp-fire, and the blaze revealed to us a large whitish object danglingby his side and partly dragging along the ground.
"Hurrah!" cried one, "Ike has killed game."
"A deer--an antelope," suggested several.
"No-o," drawled Redwood. "'Taint eyther, but I guess we won't quarrelwith the meat. I could eat a raw jackass jest about now."
Ike came up at this moment, and we saw that his game was no other than aprairie-wolf. Better that than hunger, thought all of us; and in abrace of seconds the wolf was suspended over the fire, and roasting inthe hide.
We were now more cheerful, and the anticipation of such an odd viand forsupper, drew jokes from several of the party. To the trappers such adish was nothing new, although they were the only persons of the partywho had partaken of it. But there was not one fastidious palatepresent, and when the "wolf-mutton" was broiled, each cleaned his jointor his rib with as much _gout_ as if he had been picking the bones of apheasant.
Before the supper was ended the wolf-killer made a second _coup_,killing another wolf precisely as he had done the former; and we had thegratification of knowing that our breakfast was now provided for. Thesecreatures, that all along our journey had received nothing from us butanathemas, were now likely to come in for a share of our blessings, andwe could not help feeling a species of gratitude towards them, althoughat the same time we thus killed and ate them.
The supper of roast wolf produced an agreeable change in our feelings,and we even listened with interest to our guides, who, appropriate tothe occasion, related some curious incidents of the many narrow escapesthey had had from starvation.
One in particular fixed our attention, as it afforded an illustration oftrapper life under peculiar circumstances.
