CHAPTER X.
BETWEEN TORTURE AND SAFETY--THE VALUE OF POPULARITY--UNCLE SAM'S BLUE-COATS--A TRAPPING EXPEDITION--IN FOR IT--THE CAPTURE OF MY FIRST PET GRIZZLY--SKINNING AND CARVING--"PROSPECTING" FOR SILVER--A LIVING BLANKET--DARKNESS AND THE SURPRISE--CARRIED OFF AS A CAPTIVE--OUT OF THE THONGS--THE BUTT AND THE MUZZLE--WHO IS THE REAL HERO?
It seemed, that when I had not returned to the camp by dusk, the boyshad begun to be somewhat uneasy on account of my prolonged absence.Butch' Hasbrouck then volunteered to hunt me up. Ben Painter was theonly one with him. Although uneasy, none of them really believed I wasin a serious difficulty. If they had, as Butch' subsequently said, when,some weeks later, talking the matter over with me, they would have hadme "out of the tight place I war in, a good hour sooner."
It was not long ere they heard the noise made by the howling and yellingdevils.
"There war something up," as Painter whispered to Butch'.
Then they crept nearer.
On discovering the light of the camp-fires, and recognizing through thetrees the forms of the red-skins moving rapidly amongst them, theyinstantaneously concluded that I had been killed, and that the savageswere celebrating the event in their own fashion. "By sheer luck," asPainter expressed it, they did not come near enough the _Campoody_ orIndian camp to discover me. Had they done so, they were two men only,and could not have saved me, although they might, or rather would,beyond any doubt, have made my death a somewhat costly one to theIndians, who would most certainly have finished me before their tworifles could have settled enough of the scoundrels to prevent theirdoing so.
They returned to the camp and told Arnold and the rest what they hadseen.
If I had previously any doubt of my popularity with the boys, the resultof the information thus given would have dispelled it.
In an instant every man was on his legs, and in another half-minute,armed with their rifles and revolvers, they were following the twoscouts who had located the red-skins.
On drawing sufficiently near, they had discovered me.
It would be needless to recapitulate what I have already stated. Theirplan was determined upon, and they carried it fully out. Not a singlered-skin, male or female, nor even a _papoose_, was suffered to escape.Indeed, I believe that if any of Uncle Sam's Agents or Blue Coats hadventured to interfere with their prompt judgment, supposing they hadbeen on the ground, it might have gone badly enough with them, in spiteof our presumable loyalty.
All that night, I lay on my blankets, in terrible agony. It seemed as ifI was losing my reason. A tough constitution and the care of mycompanions, however, brought me through my suffering. Let none tell methat men, rough as they may be, are unfitted to attend the sick.Brighton Bill and Butch' constituted themselves not only my medical men,but my nurses. They never left me for an instant. While one ate orslept, the other was at my side. Their rough hands were as gentle withme, as those of any woman might have been.
Arnold and Painter were also unceasing in their attendance.
Yet I feel that I am perhaps wrong in particularizing any of theRangers, when all were so kind. Suffice it, therefore, to say, thatafter some ten days I was able to stand once more and move slowly about.The effects of my fall, and the Indian treatment after it, were obviatedby the more civilized care and love, for I may surely call it so, theboys bestowed upon me. In something less than a fortnight I was ableagain to ride, and we started for Honey Lake Valley.
On reaching it, winter was just approaching, and as peace had beenpromised by the chief of the Pah-utes, I foresaw there would be littleoccupation for me during this season. So, after a little talk, Butch'Hasbrouck and Brighton Bill agreed to go with me, on a trappingexpedition to the Humboldt River. Providing ourselves with the necessarynumber of traps and other requisites, we in a few days started, pitchingour camp in the Lassen Meadows, at La Due Very's, generally known as"Old Bible-back," on the banks of that stream. For some time we werevery successful; indeed, as we afterwards found, remarkably so,gathering together a large number of beaver, otter, and other skins.Then, needing a re-supply of many necessary articles, we struck back tothe valley, and finished the winter near the Black Buttes. Here we hadas great a success in trapping mink, marten, and foxes.
It was while we were here, that I had the satisfaction of killing myfirst grizzly.
Early on one sharply cold morning I had started out to make the roundof our traps. As I entered a dense chapparal, I saw, moving towards me,a large bear with two young cubs. Of course it was their dam, and I knewI was in for it. If I had taken to my heels, I felt assured the speed ofthe ungainly brute would exceed mine. There was no large tree near, inwhich I might have taken refuge. She had already seen me, and her small,twinkling eyes were sparkling like black diamonds. Naturally, therefore,I could not treat her to any Indian strategy.
The only chance I had was in my skill as a marksman. Realizing this, Idropped upon one knee, and raising my rifle to my shoulder, awaited herapproach.
She was at this time about twenty yards away from me, advancing at arapidly awkward and shuffling run.
I waited until she had lessened this distance probably one-half. Then,with my bead drawn behind her ear, I let her have my ball, and shedropped. It was with no small degree of pride that I contemplated herlarge size, for the bullet had passed through her brain, as clearly asin any shot I ever made, and she died in her tracks, mutely and gravelyas any Indian brave, whose death-struggles have been chronicled by thenovelist. Then, taking her two cubs under my arms, I returned to camp.Butch' skinned the grizzly. Bill on this occasion officiated as butcher.Cutting out the choicest parts of the meat, he brought them back withhim. It was lucky he did so, for on visiting our traps, for the secondtime in that day, towards the evening, I found her bones pickedtolerably clean.
Our share of the grizzly, however, lasted us for four days, and I mustsay, choicer meat never crossed my palate.
On our return to Honey Lake Valley, I presented one of the two cubs toGovernor Roop. The other, I myself kept. At this time, it was as playfulas a young kitten. Owing to its youth, I was able to thoroughly tame it,so that it would follow me wherever I went, like a spaniel. When it hadincreased in size to bear's estate, I made it, in after life, myconstant companion. Brighton Bill gave it the name which stuck to it, of"my body-guard."
While we were upon the Humboldt, Butch' and myself had discovered whatwe believed to be silver ore. Brighton Bill shared our belief.
When once more near Honey Lake, we informed the various members of theBuckskin Rangers of our discovery.
All were smitten with the usual fever resulting from an intimation ofthe presence of either of the precious metals in any locality. It was,therefore, in the spring of 1860, that we went out and pitched our campin a rocky defile, to which we gave the name of Prince Royal Canyon. Thereason of our bestowing this title on it, will, when the date isremembered, be obvious to my readers. We were engaged "prospecting," theremainder of the spring and the succeeding summer, having located alarge number of ledges.
About September we had, however, grown tired of silver-prospectingwithout any immediate results, and determined on adjourning ourmetal-mining for the winter. It was, therefore, decided that we shouldvisit Klamath Lake and the Modoc country with the view of trapping andhunting.
We accordingly, at the commencement of the following month, struck outfor the Blue Mountains, in portion of which range we pitched our campfor the purpose of looking out for good hunting-grounds. After talkingthe matter well over, we concluded to separate. By so doing, we couldhold the whole of that portion of the country, as any good hunter andtrapper can take care of ten miles square without any other help. Someof the boys accordingly went to the Klamath Lake--others betookthemselves to the Sierras. In fact, they were scattered round, within nomore than a day's ride of each other, while I and my pet bear, whom Ihad named Charley, remained on the spot we had originally camped in.
That winter set in with unusual severi
ty. It was, indeed, the severest Ihad yet known, through the whole of that region.
Possibly, for twenty years, the one just past, has alone exceeded it,whether in its average temperature or the amount of the snow which felland remained upon the earth.
In the Blue Mountains, the snow averaged from a depth of ten to eighteenfeet. It covered my rude log-cabin so completely, that at times it mighthave been difficult for me to find it. Here it was that my bear firstbecame of positive value to me, in addition to his affording mesomething like companionship.
When I left my cabin, I would leave him behind to keep house.
The result of this was, that on my return, I was sure to find himhalf-a-mile or more from home, to which he would pilot me unerringly.
During the night, Charley always slept with me. After building a largefire, I would lie down in his arms or rather fore-paws. He was farbetter than any blanket. If, however, in my sleep, the fire had gonedown and the cold drove me unconsciously closer to him, than waspleasant to his Grizzlyship, he would raise his hind paw and push meinto the middle of the floor. Then, it would seem as if a sense of theduty he owed his owner returned. He would roll out, himself, snuffaround me, and if I kept quite still, which I have frequently done,insert his nose under my side and trundle my apparently still slumberingbody back upon the bed. He possessed other qualities also, given him bynature, in which he was eminently my superior.
His hearing was wonderfully acute. Of a sudden, he would start out ofthe cabin, with a quick look of intelligence that was well-nigh human.After nosing around, if everything was quiet, he would slink back, withan unmistakably sheepish look. Coming up to me, he would lick my handsand face. It was precisely as if he had said:
"Don't kick up a row, old boy! I was wrong and I know it. But, it is allfor the best, I should keep a bright look-out. My ears are quicker thanyours, you know."
If, however, on leaving the cabin, any game, or a man should happen tobe near it, he would utter a continuous low growl until I joined him.
One day he displayed his sagacity in an even stronger manner. I had goneout with my rifle in the morning and did not return until the middle ofthe afternoon. It was at considerably greater distance than usual fromour dwelling that he met me. He would not, however, accompany medirectly back, but shambled off with his rapid and swinging gait to aconsiderable distance. Knowing he wanted me to see something, I followedhim almost as rapidly. Suddenly, he came to a dead halt. When I joinedhim, I learnt the reason for this strange proceeding on Charley's part.I had come upon some half-dozen or more moccasin-tracks, which leddirectly towards my cabin.
Of course, I now proceeded with great caution, as he also did.
About a hundred yards from the entrance, I however found precisely thesame number of moccasin-tracks, bearing in an entirely differentdirection. They very evidently led directly from the spot to which theothers had been going.
As I was examining them, his juvenile Grizzlyship lowered his quainthead above them, and as evidently scrutinized them with even greaterintentness than I had done.
Then, he gave a low growl. It was exactly as if he had uttered thephrase of--
"All right!"
After this, dropping all semblance of caution, and shaking himself as ahuge dog might, he shuffled off hurriedly to the hole in the snow whichled to his and my habitation. When I entered it, he was circling roundthe whole of the somewhat narrow interior, smelling in every part, andrepeating, from time to time, the low growl I have just alluded to as sosignificant.
It would be unnecessary to say, I did not enjoy a particularly soundslumber that night.
That the owners of these moccasins were Indians, it was impossible todoubt.
If, as some say the red men are able to do, I am unable to detect themoccasined foot-print of one tribe from that of another, I can at anyrate tell whether the foot within the moccasin may chance to be a whiteone. These were not. Of this I had been, at once, assured. But why hadthey visited my hole in the snow, and why had they afterwards left it?This last question I was unable satisfactorily to settle.
In any case, it was necessary to let the other boys know red-skins werearound. Accordingly, breaking my fast early, I started towards BrightonBill's cabin, as he was my next-door neighbor, living merely at adistance of some fifteen miles. Arriving there in the forenoon, I foundhim seated by a roaring fire. But scarcely had I stepped within hisdoor, than he was on his feet with his rifle, which had been between hisknees, cocked, raised, and pointed at me. It was, however, as rapidlydropped.
"By 'eaven, Mose, H'i thought you was han H'ingin."
"The Indians brought me here, Bill!"
"The blasted red devils turned hup 'ere, when H'i was hout yesterday."
"So they did, in my cabin. We ought to let the other boys know, anddecide upon what had best be done."
"Butch' will be 'ere this morning. H'i seed 'im honly yesterday," saidBill. "Hif you like, H'i will go hand fetch hup some of the hotherchaps."
"I think, it would be better."
"Very well, Cap! Hi'm hoff."
Putting on his snow-shoes, he started immediately.
He had scarcely left me for twenty minutes, when I heard a slight noiseon the snow without. Seizing my rifle, I moved cautiously to the door,when something heavy leaped against me, which very nearly reduced me toa prostrate position. It was my bear Charley, who had thought proper tofollow me. We retired within the cabin, which was considerably largerthan mine. Bill was in a slight degree inclined to grandeur and luxury,if there can be such things in a log-hut. There, in company, we resignedourselves to expectation. All at once the Grizzly raised his head. Yes!I had heard it, too. It was the movement of snow-shoes. A few momentsafter, Butch' entered.
On the preceding day, he also had seen Indian tracks around hisdwelling.
In the afternoon, Brighton Bill reappeared. He had seen Harry Arnold,and told him to see his nearest neighbor, and send word to the otherRangers, bidding them to repair immediately to my quarters.
After a hasty feed on some jerked deer, we then set out for my dwelling.Darkness had settled on us, long before we reached it; and, but for thechilly sheen of the sheet which draped the earth with its spotlesswhite, it might have been difficult to keep the track.
Yet I am wrong. In any case, Charley's unerring scent would have proveda sure guide. Why it was, however, I can scarcely say, save that he hadconfidence in our numbers, but certainly, on this occasion, he utteredno warning growl; and scarcely had we descended through the sloping snowto the doorway than two powerful arms were thrown about me. I heardBill's voice roar:
"Look hout, Mose!"
We were in the grip of the red-skins.
The struggle was furious but brief. Our assailants had been joined by adozen other Indians, who had been lurking without, and it was not longbefore we had our hands tied behind us, and we were on our way to GooseLake.
Before starting, it must frankly be said, that with the usual redinstinct for appropriating everything which comes in their way, mycabin had been thoroughly gutted. Ammunition, provision, blankets--nay,everything portable--and there was nothing which was not portable init--had become the property of the copper-colored rascals.
Placing me in front, and Butch' and Bill behind me, in regular Indianfile, they kept on either side of us, forcing us to hurry on as speedilyas they could compel us to move.
It was impossible for me to forget my past experience, and I mentallyresolved, if I were able to do so, that I would sell my life in squarefight, rather than undergo a second time the torture to which I had thenbeen subjected. At last, there seemed a chance for doing so. We had beencompelled to move along at a smart trot for some six or seven hours, sofar as I was able to measure time, when, from what cause I cannot say,although it was probably the continual friction, I felt that theligature round my wrists was sensibly looser. My hands were able to slipthrough the thongs. I dared not tell either of my companions what I haddone, and ask them whether or not they might be
able to do the same.Some of the red rascals might understand English. One or more of themmight even be renegade whites. What could I do to release them? The ideacame to me like a flash of lightning. Pretending to stumble, I pitchedforward, and recovering myself, got a blow on my face from one of ourcaptors. It was apparently from one of the same thongs with which ourwrists had been bound. Then, I uttered a shrill and prolonged cry as ifof pain.
After this, I found myself the last of the three.
Two minutes had scarcely passed, and Bill's hands had been freed. Minehad untied the thongs which bound them. He would have wit enough toloose Butch'. Life on the Plains and in the great West, sharpens man'smother-wit wonderfully.
Day was not yet breaking.
That heavy darkness was upon us, which so generally precedes dawn.
At this very moment we came to some low foot-hills, where the timber wasdense and thick. We were obliged to move more slowly. My friends hadjust crossed a log, and the Indian on the left of me was stepping overit, when I fetched him with my clenched fist a violent blow under hisear. At any rate, I felt that was the place in which I struck him.
As he reeled and fell, I wrenched the gun from his hands, shouting out,
"Now's your time, boys."
The brute instinct of self-preservation answered for their closelyfollowing, without knowing that they did so, my action. In anotherinstant we were clubbing right and left, and so soon as we could changeour guns for some that had not been injured by such an employment, wecommenced shooting. Scarcely had I heard the report of my first shotthan I felt two vigorous arms thrown around my waist. They were liftingme from the ground, probably for the purpose of dashing me to the earth,when they suddenly relaxed their grip. A madly wild yell broke from thelips of that Indian, mingled with a ringingly fierce growl which I atonce recognized, although I had never before heard it so savagelyshapen, as Charley's voice.
My pet had followed on our track, and was actually assisting us inrescuing ourselves.
"My pet had followed in our track, and was actuallyassisting us to rescue ourselves."--_Page 154._]
Strangely enough, since the moment in which we had first foundourselves captives and were marched away in the fashion I have abovedescribed, no thought of Grizzly's absence from my side had ever crossedmy mind. His memory had however been better than mine. Perhaps, when allcircumstances are fairly considered, it had some reason for being so.
After a very brief struggle, the wholly unexpected assault of theirthree prisoners, and their four-footed or four-handed ally, on the reddevils, resulted in a complete victory.
The yet living Indians cleared out, leaving us masters of the field. Asthe day was now gradually breaking, we were enabled to count the dead,and exercise a proprietary right in their scalps. What was of much moreadvantage to myself, I was enabled to recapture nearly the whole of mystolen property, as well as a number of guns, corresponding with that ofthe dead, which necessarily changed hands.
Eight of the scoundrels would have no more chance of troubling theirwhite brethren.
This enumeration includes the one whom Charley had so consideratelysqueezed out of this life, very much, as Butch' afterwards remarked--
"As a younker squeezes a ripe orange."
It was late in the afternoon, when we arrived again at my cabin. Uponentering the hole in the snow which led to it, we found Harry Arnold,Ben Painter, and many of the boys there. They had preceded our coming bysome twenty minutes. The footprints visible on the outside of mydwelling, as well as the thoroughly emptied condition of its interior,had readily given them a thorough apprehension of our condition. Whenwe returned, they were on the point of preparing to follow on the trailof the red savages.
Of course, we had to relate our adventures since the preceding night.This, however, did not take long, as the demands of famished nature weretoo exacting. We had tasted neither bite nor sup since noon on thepreceding day.
I may here state, that much to the mortification of Butch' and BrightonBill, as well as somewhat to my own, it became evident that the Rangersconsidered my young Grizzly as the real hero of the occasion. Indeed,Painter proposed to give him a horn of old Rye, and would have done so,had I not peremptorily forbidden it, not only on the score of itspossible effects upon his innocent inside, but also because our stock ofthat necessary article was getting very low.
After our meal, which I ate ravenously, and presume the two who had beenmy fellow-captives did the same, "Long" Dorsey (he stood six feet two,in his stockings) and Lute Spencer arrived. Some minutes after, we hearda voice whistling the familiar tune "Joe Bowers." This was "small" TomHarvey, who had lingered in their rear. Seeing they had entered withoutexciting any commotion within the cabin, he concluded no Indians were inthe immediate neighborhood. Otherwise, he would undoubtedly haverefrained from allowing his lips this exercise.
We were told by Lute Spencer that they had paused at Bob Thorn's cabinby the way. He was more generally known by his intimates and associatesas Dirty Bob.
"The place war gutted, as you say yours war," continued Lute, "and Bobwar nowhere."
"The red devils had been there," added Dorsey. "We counted the tracksof some ten of them."
Fatigued as I was, I at once proposed starting for Bob's cabin. Thememory I have already alluded to, gave me a sharp twinge ofcommiseration for any unlucky fellow who might be treated to a similarphase of personal experience.
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