landof gold, make riches in time, and then return to our own country.
"For many months after we had once crossed the prairie-lands, and theterrible alkali flats, we followed the course of a broad-bosomed river,so that our compasses were of but little use to us, for one day thisstream would take us right away up north, the next day west orsouth-west. It certainly was in no great hurry to reach itsdestination; but neither were we, so it just suited us. We werecontented, nay, more, we were perfectly happy; we slept at night ashunters sleep, and we awoke at early dawn fresh as the forest birds thatflitted joyously around us, and quite prepared for another day's work.It _was_ work sometimes, too, and no mistake; work that many a Britishploughman would have considered toil, for we had our waggons to fetchalong, and that sometimes entailed long journeys round, to avoid aforest too dense, or river banks too rocky.
"For months we never came across the trail of a living soul, so that wewere not afraid to picket our horses, leaving them plenty to eat anddrink, and go off pleasuring for days at a time in our birch canoes,after the deer and wild-fowl by the river, or the swans by night. Weknew, or we could generally guess, where their haunts were. Erecting abit of canvas in the stern sheets, by way of cover, we would light abundle of hay, and throw it overboard, then drop slowly down streambefore it. If they were anywhere about, they were sure to be out soon;and as they came sailing towards us, wondering what was up, one or twoof them was sure to pay for his curiosity with the forfeiture of hislife."
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
DUGALD CONTINUES HIS STORY--A FEARFUL STORM--ATTACKED BY WOLVES--LOST INTHE FOREST--INDIANS--THE SURRENDER--THE ESCAPE--THE MINE OF GOLD.
"But it wasn't always plain sailing with us either on theseexpeditions," said Dugald, continuing the narrative of his adventures;"sometimes storms would arise, ay, and such storms too! One I shallnever forget; our horses were picketed down stream, but on high ground;so as soon as the blue sky got overcast, and while yet the thunder wasmuttering ominously in the distance, we made up our minds to get downtowards them as speedily as possible, not knowing how they would fare.
"Well was it for us we had lashed our frail canoes together, for therewas one portion of the great river which it was dangerous to descend,even in fine weather, so rapid was the current. When we reached thisplace the storm was at its very worst, and we found ourselves suddenlywhirling along in the midst of a raging cataract, a boiling surgingcataract. The thunder seemed rending the forest, and the very rocksaround us; the rain was terrible, and I had never seen such lightningbefore; forked and sheet I had been used to, but here great balls offire fell from heaven, splitting, and hissing as they reached the waves.It was indeed a fearful storm. When we reached camp at long last, weexpected to find that our horses had broken loose in the extremity oftheir terror, but we were greatly mistaken; here they were safe enough,and although there was evidence in the state of the ground that they hadbeen at first alarmed, they were quiet now; ay, even cowed in their joyto see us, they fawned upon us almost as a dog would have done.
"But this forest life of ours was not so very pleasant when summerended, and winter began to give token of his speedy approach. However,we determined to make the best of it. We built ourselves a hut of logs,and a rude stable for our horses, then we had to lay aside for a timeour guns and fishing-rods, and instead of hunting, take to farming, andmake hay while yet the sun shone. As long as the horses could be turnedout lariated, they could find provisions for themselves, but when thesnow fell, as fall it did ere long, we had to find fodder for themindoors.
"We did not forget our own larder, you may be sure, and right thankfulwere we that we had not forgotten to take with us a traveller's cookingstove, with a store of oil by way of fuel. Not that we expected anArctic winter by any means. Our guide, a sturdy bearded man of somefifty summers, had trapped in these wilds for more than twenty years,and could remember many a winter passing without the grass being evenonce covered with snow. But travellers should always be providedagainst even probabilities, and as it turned out it was well we were.We enjoyed Christmas in our rude log hut almost if not quite as well asif at home, and it would have done your heart good to have heard themerry songs we sang, or to have listened to the strange stories of ourguide. No traveller's tales were these, they were painted from the lifeand natural. The wolves used to come howling round our doors now ofnights. A fall of snow, that came on about the beginning of the newyear, seemed to make the creatures hungry. They came after the bonesthat were thrown out, at least that was how they pretended to accountfor their visit, but we knew well they would not hesitate a moment toattack the horses if they could only find a chance.
"There were trees all round our humble abode, and wearisome enough itwas sometimes to awake on stormy nights and listen to the wild windroaring through their branches, mingling with the awesome cry of theforest wolves. On just such a night Jack and I once started from ourbeds, and sat up and listened. There was the dread of some impendingdanger lying like a lump of lead at my heart, and Jack afterwardsconfessed that he too was awakened by the same kind of feeling. Almostin the same breath we called aloud to our guide. There was no answer,but a rush of cold wind that swept through the cabin told us that thedoor was open. We sprang at once from our couches and hurried on someclothing, then seizing our pistols we sallied out; just as a cry forhelp fell upon our ear, a cry that was drowned the next moment in thehorrid `hubbering' sound that wolves make while worrying a victim.`Come on, Jack,' I cried; `they are killing poor Walter.'
"Jack and I were both in the melee next moment. The merciful moon shoneout, and we could see our guide on his feet covered with blood, butdefending himself bravely with a brawny fist and a broken lantern. Notfar off was our burly camp-dog engaged with three of the hungry-eyedmonsters. Jack and I soon turned the odds to deadly game, but Walterwas badly wounded, and it took weeks to get him well. It seems he hadtaken his lantern and gone out to see if the horses were secure, when hewas at once attacked by the wolves. Winter brought us visitors from thefar north, the grizzly bear and his cousin the cinnamon bear. They usedto hide in the darkest and deepest nooks of the forest by day, or inrocky dens by the mountain sides, and come prowling out by night,oftentimes making the woods shake with their terrible roaring.
"A better guide or trapper than Walter couldn't have been; he was goodfor forest, hill, or plain, and yet he lost himself one day nothalf-a-mile from our hut-door. He had gone for a short walk in theforest; and, according to his own account, his head all of a sudden gotturned round, as it were. This is a kind of madness not at all uncommonin the prairie or wilderness. And now to honest Walter west seemedeast, and south seemed north. He had no compass with him; and it isquestionable whether he would have believed it if he had had one. It isa good thing in cases of this kind, that a man usually marches round andround in a circle. We found our guide next day lying exhausted at thefoot of a pine tree, not five miles from our wigwam; or, rather, hisgood and trusty Newfoundland dog found him; but how the wolves hadspared him was to us a mystery. He had never once stopped walking tillhe fell where we found him.
"The time flew by, gentlemen; winter had almost passed, although snowstill lay deep in woodland and glade, and we were fain to wear oursnow-shoes when going abroad; still the winds blew more softly, andbudlets began to peep out on the larch trees, which are ever the firstto welcome the balmy breath of returning spring.
"One morning, greatly to our annoyance, we found the rude stable-dooropen, and our horses gone. But their tracks were fresh on the snow, andso we felt sure we soon should find them.
"The trail led us to the uplands, and we were not sorry for this, as bymounting an eminence or hill we would be enabled to see the country formiles on miles around us. When we did at long last reach a hill-top, asight we saw not two miles off was quite enough to curdle the blood ofsuch inexperienced woodsmen as we were then.
"Indians! a score and more of them, with their horses picketed, and oursamong the rest. It was ev
ident from their armour, their rifles andspears, and their dress, that they were on the war-path.
"Gentlemen, I have but little heart to look back upon what immediatelyfollowed our discovery. Some day I may tell you all our wild adventuresamong the backwoods savages. Suffice it for me here to say, that afterdays and nights of fierce fighting, our foes were driven off by freshbands of Indians. This was a tribe our guide Walter well knew; and, onhis advice, we surrendered to them. They spared our lives; but theymade us prisoners, because they found us of use to them. For five longyears we remained the slaves of this warlike tribe; but the dawn cameafter the long darkness. We escaped on three of their horses--we chosethe best, you may be sure. It was on the evening of a great feast, incommemoration of a successful raid they had made into the white man'sterritory, returning with cattle, and, sad to say, with scalps.
"Fire-water was abundant that night, and horrible revelry and dancing.But sleep stole over the camp at last; and then we felt our time hadcome. We had left them leagues on leagues ere morning light. But wetook little rest till we were far, far away in the southern and westernstates.
"This did not quite tire Jack and me of adventure and travel. No; wejust worked for a year, and then, once more accoutring ourselves, wemade tracks for the mountain-forests. The gold fever had broken out,and we had caught it, only we determined to go prospecting all by ourtwo selves. And a good thing we did. We built ourselves a house. Jackcalled it `the little hut among the bushes.' Some of the bushes,gentlemen, were three hundred feet in height. We found gold, too. Factis, we had a small mine all to ourselves. As soon as we made a pile, weused to go south, disguised as poor trappers, to sell our skins and fillour powder-flasks; but, in reality, to bank our gold.
"We've made all we want. The mine itself is sold, and well sold; and assoon as we have shown you a bit of life in the backwoods, we shan't besorry to return to our dear auld Hielan' hills once more."
The huntsman finished speaking, and soon after our heroes turned in forthe night, and the silence was unbroken--the silence of the darkprimeval forest.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
MERRIE ENGLAND--A WEEK AT WILLOUGHBY PLACE--OUR HEROES PART--A PLEASANTRE-UNION, ON WHICH THE CURTAIN DROPS.
It was a lovely evening towards the close of an autumn day, many monthsafter the events related in the last chapter, that you might have seen acarriage and pair, drawn up at the gate of the down station of the quietlittle village of Twintleton. There was but one person on the platform,a tall, elderly gentleman, who was pacing up and down with evidentimpatience. When I tell you that the proud crest of the Willoughbys wasemblazoned on the panels of the carriage, you will guess that thegentleman himself was none other than Frank's father.
"She's long overdue, isn't she, porter?" he said at last.
"Only five minutes, sir," was the reply.
"Five minutes!" muttered Mr Willoughby, "why, I seem to have waitedhere for a whole hour."
In a first-class compartment of this late train--still at someconsiderable distance--sat three gentlemen. Brown were they incomplexion as the waters of a mountain burn, and just as vivacious.
"Now, Frank," said one, "I do wonder what your father will think of youwhen he sees you."
"We've hardened him off properly," said the other, laughing. Franksmiled, his thoughts just then wandered away down to a certain shire inWales. He was wondering what his betrothed--what Eenie would think ofhim, and whether she herself would be much changed.
Half an hour afterwards all three were rattling off in the carriage, tothe home of the Willoughbys. Need I say that that evening the fattedcalf was killed, or that Frank was the hero there for weeks.
Heigho! but time _will_ fly. I have kept my trio well in hand throughall their years of wandering in wild places, but now at last the wizardpower of pen must fail, our friends must scatter. It was very pleasantfor a time roaming over the lovely fields and moors, gun in hand, dogsahead, in the bright, bracing September days. The dinners in theevening at Willoughby Place were pleasant, too, and yet after one of thebest of these, all of a sudden, during a lull in the conversation--
"Father," said Frank, "I'm off to-morrow, like a bird, away down toPenmawhr Castle."
"You young dog," replied his father, laughing; "I've been expecting tohear this every day for the last week."
"Filial affection prevented me," said Frank, "from making up my mindbefore."
"Oh! that just reminds me," said Chisholm O'Grahame, "that I sail forAustralia next week."
"And, oh!" cried Fred Freeman, "that puts me in mind. I'm off about thesame time to the Russian Steppes."
"What!" exclaimed Mr Willoughby, "all bent on the same errand? Well,well, boys will be boys. But, I will miss you all sadly."
"I say, though," said Frank, "there is one thing I do look forward to,and that is, when Fred and Chisholm return--I, of course, am going nodistance--we may have a grand re-union, here at old Willoughby Place."
"Yes," said his father, "If we are all spared I'm sure I'll bedelighted; and there is one thing you mustn't forget, that is, if youcan find them; namely, to bring with you the companions of youradventures in the backwoods."
"Oh! never fear, sir," Frank replied; "we'll ferret them out--ay, andLyell as well."
"That will be delightful," said Mr Willoughby, rubbing his hands injoyous anticipation of the hoped-for event.
"And," he continued enthusiastically, "up on the hill, near the ruins ofthe ancient home of our fathers, on the night of the re-union, I'llkindle such a bonfire as never blazed on the heights before."
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One short week after this conversation took place my three heroes were--
"--Severed far and wide By mountain, stream, and sea."
And this just reminds me that my tale is wonderfully near its close,for, dear me! you know an author who has lost his heroes is just like abird who has lost its eggs, there is not a bit of good in trying to singany more. Besides, they have all gone in different directions, and Ican't be in three places at once; and even if I could, my presence woulddoubtless be deemed an intrusion, for I'll warrant they are all happyenough.
But did the re-union ever take place, and did the bonfire blaze fierceon the hill-top? Both events came off, reader, I'm glad to tell you.And here they all are with happy beaming faces, seated around the tablein the banquetting hall of the home of the Willoughbys: Fred, and Frank,and Chisholm O'Grahame, each with their wives by their side. Ay, andbrave Captain Lyell, too, though he has got no wife by his side--his lotis to be a rover, his home is on the deep. And here is brawny DugaldMcArthur and honest John Travers, the bold hunters of the backwoods.
And here is precisely the place to drop the curtain. Let it descendthen, and slowly hide the happy scene.
Yet one word. My chief reward in having written these "WildAdventures," rests in a _thought_ and in a _hope_. The thought is, thatI may have sometimes interested and amused you; the hope, that we may--for stranger things have happened--meet again another day.
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