The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XXI

  BAGGING A BUFFALO

  "THERE was an arrow shot; I saw it sticking in the side of that buffalobefore it fell over, after running off a little way!" whispered Sandy,excitedly, when both he and his brother dropped back again beside theIrish trapper.

  "And I saw that wolf holding a short bow!" gasped Bob.

  "Oh! how could that be?" Sandy exclaimed.

  "Whist! don't spake so loud on yees life, me byes," broke in Pat,holding up a warning finger. "There do be danger to us all, right here."

  "Danger!" echoed Sandy; "from the buffalo?"

  "From the Injuns, be the powers," added the trapper. "Not a worrd now,above the faintest whisper, do ye mind, till we lay our plans. 'Tis aticklish job Pat has on his hands, so it is."

  "Indians!" breathed the startled Sandy; and then, like a flash, a lookof comprehension passed over his face. "Oh! now I understand what youmean. That old wolf isn't what he pretends to be; but an Indian brave,covered with a wolfskin."

  "Glory be! the bye has guessed it!" chuckled Pat, who could be amusedeven when facing imminent peril.

  "Can we peep again, Pat?" asked Bob, really eager to see how thecunning red hunter managed to accomplish the slaughter of the greatbuffalo.

  "Av ye be mighty careful, and do not make any quick move to atthractattention; becase the chances are, the hathen do be havin' frinds clostby, ready to cut up the game whin he secures the same. Aisy now, Sandy,and take it slow. Just the tip av yer nose, do ye mind."

  Accordingly both boys elevated their heads until they could justbarely see above the top of the moving grass. The fact that Bob wore acap made from the skin of a coon, with several striped tails hangingbehind, while that perched on the head of his younger brother wasfashioned out of gray squirrel skins, added much to their security, asthey were less likely to be noticed by watchful eyes.

  "THEY COULD NOW PLAINLY DISCERN THE FIGURE UNDER THEWOLFSKIN."]

  The strange wolf was moving now in the direction of a buffalo cow, thatseemed to be a little suspicious, since she shook her head severaltimes, and looked toward the gray animal as though not wholly convincedthat a single wolf might not mean harm to the herd.

  Presently the chance for which the red hunter waited seemed to come.The watching boys saw him suddenly rise up, as though on his knees;and they could now plainly discern the figure under the wolfskin. Hecarried a short bow, and undoubtedly one of great power, that wascalculated to send a barbed shaft half way through even so great ananimal as a buffalo.

  Bob was touching the arm of his brother at the time. He plainly feltSandy start when they caught the peculiar "twang" of a bow-string,telling them that the red hunter had fired his shaft. The buffalo cowstarted to run away; but, after going a dozen feet or so, fell to herknees, tried to rise, gave a low bellow, and then rolled over on herside.

  Some of the remaining animals raised their heads, and looked in mildsurprise; then went on cropping the grass again, as though their alarmhad been short-lived.

  The two boys dropped back to the side of Pat, who had possibly alsobeen watching this strange panorama, to be seen nowhere else on thebroad earth.

  Bob looked at Sandy, and the other returned his amazed gaze withinterest.

  "Did you see him do that job, and ain't he able to use that short bowbetter'n any Indian you ever met?" whispered Sandy.

  "That's why so many of the buffalo look like they're sleeping," Bobwent on to say. "That Indian hunter has been killing them off. I guesshe's shot six or seven by now."

  "But what will he do with all that meat; just eat the tongues?" Sandyasked.

  Bob turned to Pat, a question in his eye, and the trapper, holding upthat warning finger to make sure that they kept their voices toneddown, so that they could not be heard above the rustle of the longgrass in the breeze, answered him.

  "Jerk it for winter use; d'ye mind?" was all he said, but the boysunderstood.

  They had been in an Indian village, and seen how the surplus venison orbuffalo meat was dried in strips. This jerked meat was stored away forthe time when game might be scarce, or the red hunters felt indisposedto leave their comfortable wigwams to look for it. And, whenever arunner was sent on a long journey, this tough meat formed his sole staywhile on the way. It required no cooking, and a piece put in the mouthcould be masticated by degrees, serving the useful purpose of keepingthe jaws working, and at the same time affording sustenance to the body.

  "But this upsets all our plans," complained Sandy, who did not seehow they were to make any attempt at getting a buffalo, when possiblya dozen red hunters were close by, waiting until their comrade withthe short bow and the killing arrows had completed his bloody butcherbusiness.

  "Oh! I doan't know," remarked Pat, rubbing his chin with his hand, asthough considering some idea that had crept into his active mind.

  Of course both lads turned eagerly on their companion. They seemed toview his few words, and his manner, as suggesting hope.

  "You've thought of something, Pat; please tell us what it is, for I dohope we can find a way to get our share of all this meat," Sandy asked,anxiously.

  "Arrah, now, listen to me, wud yees?" whispered the trapper. "And mebbeafther all we can sacure what we came out to kerry home, a pack avjuicy mate. D'ye mind that the first young bull I saw a-runnin' off hadan arrow stickin' in his side; but he managed to go some distance aforedroppin' to the ground? Whin I saw him last he was just passin' beyantthe bunch av timber that stands to the lift, it might be a quarrter ava mile. An', saing as he niver showed up agin, the chances are he fellthere. Me ijee is to worrk around in that quarrter, and whin the huntis over, and the reds do be busy skinnin' an' cuttin' up the game, whatis to hinder the three av us from securin' all we want from the carcaseav the young bull as lies out yonder? Sure the trees wull be aftherconsalin' us from the eyes av the Injun hunters; an', by the sametoken, it may be they niver noticed that animal at all, at all!"

  The proposition struck both boys as a splendid one. They nodded theirheads, and their eyes sparkled; and Pat needed nothing more to tell himthat his plan met with their unqualified approbation.

  "Hadn't we better be backing out of this then, right away?" suggestedSandy, always ready to act.

  "Yis, but be mighty careful," advised the trapper. "Av we have notbeen sane up till now, we doan't want to spile the broth by anny unduehaste. Aisy it is, byes."

  So they retreated in the same track by which they had advanced, andthere came no sound or sign to tell them that their presence in thevicinity had been noticed by the other red hunters, doubtless crouchinglikewise in the grass, and waiting for the time to come when they mightburst into view, to take a last shot at the remnant of the buffaloherd, by that time alarmed and in full flight.

  It stood to reason that these eager hunters would have eyes only forthe game, and this accounted for the fact that the palefaces had notbeen discovered.

  Pat would take no unnecessary chances, however, daring though he was bynature. He felt a weight upon his shoulders, since he had been trustedwith the responsibility of Mr. Armstrong's two sons; and wished toaccount for them both when they came to the boat again.

  By degrees, after going back to the timber belt, they managed to movearound until they had reached a point directly behind the patch oftrees to which Pat had called their attention a while previously.

  "I saw something there that looked like a buffalo on the ground,"whispered Sandy, after they had been crawling forward again for severalminutes.

  "It's all right!" declared Pat. "The young bull niver pulled out atall. And 'twas his carcase ye saw, sure. We're in great luck, so we be,lads."

  "Oh! listen to that!" exclaimed Sandy, as a series of wild yells brokeout.

  "The game is ended, and the balance of the herd has taken off,"declared Bob.

  They raised their heads to watch, and it was a sight well worth seeing,with the lumbering buffalo dashing away in a compact mass, and here andthere an Indian brave popping up from the long
grass, to discharge hisarrow at the fleeing animals.

  But they did not seem to drop any, as the distance was too great; sopresently they could be seen hurrying back toward the spot where quitea number of slain animals awaited their attention.

  "There must be one to every brave," declared Bob.

  "So much the better," remarked Pat; "av it kapes thim busy for the nixthour or so, while we sacure our mate. This way, lads, and kape quiet onyer lives."

  They made their way to the side of the fallen young bull, and Sandy'seyes glistened when he realized what a piece of good luck had cometheir way; when it might just as well have been a tough old fellow theywere given the chance to carve.

  Pat posted each of the boys at a certain spot to keep watch. They wereto give him a signal if any of the red hunters approached to look upthe animal which had fallen behind the patch of trees, and which hadundoubtedly been marked by their keen, all-seeing eyes.

  There were only about nine of the Indians, Sandy had said as he lefthis companions; and his tone told Bob how he must be figuring on theirchances, should the adventure wind up in a fight; for Sandy would neverconsent to abandon such a fine store of buffalo meat, if it couldpossibly be avoided.

  From the spot where he was posted Bob could easily see the Indiansworking over the slain animals that had fallen before the deadlyarrows of the hunter who had made use of the skin of a wolf, and keptto the leeward of the herd, in order that they might not catch hisscent, and take the alarm.

  He could not but feel a certain thrill as he watched them work, knowingthat, if they dreamed of the presence of the hated palefaces nearby, they would only too quickly drop their operations, and go on thewar-path, looking for scalps.

  And yet Bob would have been glad to have had an opportunity to watchhow the whole process of curing the meat was carried out, because healways felt a great interest in such things.

  He lay there for a very long time, it seemed to him. At least on threeseparate occasions he feared the time had come when discovery couldnot be avoided, and that one of the busy braves meant to look for thebull that had fallen further off than any of the rest. But, on eachoccasion, it proved to be a false alarm, and Bob found no need ofwhistling like a quail to warn Pat, so that the trapper might be on hisguard.

  And then, when Bob was beginning to be very nervous, under the beliefthat discovery could not now be long delayed, he caught the whistle ofa gopher, thrice repeated. This had been the signal by means of whichPat would let the boys know he had completed his task, and that theywere to join him without delay.

  So Bob quickly crawled back, at times taking to his heels, and bendinglow, so as to keep under the curtain of long grass.

  He arrived at just the same time as Sandy; and they were delighted tofind that the expert Pat had not only succeeded in cutting up the youngbull, but had three packs of the best portions of the meat ready to betransported.

  Making use of the trees as a means to hide their retreat, the threewhites succeeded in getting away without attracting the notice of theIndian buffalo hunters. Pat had purposely blinded the trail, as he camealong last of all. He hoped that, when one of the Indians approachedthe spot, and saw that the bull had already been attended to, he wouldturn around without making an examination, under the belief thatanother of the band had been ahead of him.

  Something of the sort must really have happened, for, though the boyskept on the alert for half an hour, listening, and expecting to catchshrill yells of anger from the back trail, nothing of the kind cameto pass. And more than once Bob saw Sandy start when he heard a birdrustle the grass near by, as though he half expected to see a featheredhead thrust up, and come face to face with an enraged Indian warrior.

  They reached in safety the spot where the flatboat was tied up, andgreat was the rejoicing of the entire company at sight of the toothsomeburdens the three hunters carried on their backs. Around the littlefire that afternoon the story was told of the wolf that handled a bowwith such deadly accuracy; and the Yankee boy, Amos Terry, who wassomething of a greenhorn concerning all woodcraft, sat there with hiseyes "as big as saucers," as Sandy expressed it, hardly knowing whetherto believe the tale or not.

  But Pat was a little uneasy concerning the possible coming of theIndians, and made up his mind to keep an extra careful watch that night.

  Taken all in all, the members of the company were delighted with thingsas they found them. Mr. Armstrong had discovered that the soil was ofwonderful fertility, entirely different from that of the Ohio hillswhere their first home had been located; the women were pleased withthe countless wild flowers that dotted the long grass of the levelprairie; while Sandy and Bob already believed that the region near theMississippi must be like the Indian "Happy Hunting Grounds," and thatgame would be three times as abundant as they had ever known in thepast.