CHAPTER TEN.
BUFFALO-HUNTING ON THE PRAIRIES.
Next day most of the men of Fort Erie, headed by Mr Pemberton, rodeaway into the prairies on a buffalo-hunt. Jasper would willingly haveremained with Marie at the fort, but, having promised to go, he wouldnot now draw back.
The band of horsemen rode for three hours, at a quick pace, over thegrassy plains, without seeing anything. Jasper kept close beside hisfriend, old Laroche, while Heywood rode and conversed chiefly with MrPemberton. There were about twenty men altogether, armed with guns, andmounted on their best buffalo-runners, as they styled the horses whichwere trained to hunt the buffalo. Many of these steeds had been wildhorses, caught by the Indians, broken-in, and sold by them to thefur-traders.
"I have seldom ridden so long without meeting buffaloes," observed MrPemberton, as the party galloped to the top of a ridge of land, fromwhich they could see the plains far and wide around them.
"There they are at last," said Heywood eagerly, pointing to a certainspot on the far-off horizon where living creatures of some sort wereseen moving.
"That must be a band o' red-skins," said Jasper, who trotted up at thismoment with the rest of the party.
"They are Sauteaux," [This word is pronounced _Sotoes_ in the plural;_Sotoe_ in the singular] observed Arrowhead quietly.
"You must have good eyes, friend," said Pemberton, applying a smallpocket-telescope to his eye; "they are indeed Sauteaux, I see by theirdress, and they have observed us, for they are coming straight this way,like the wind."
"Will they come as enemies or friends?" inquired Heywood.
"As friends, I have no doubt," replied the fur-trader. "Come, lads, wewill ride forward to meet them."
In a short time the two parties of horsemen met. They approached almostat full speed, as if each meant to ride the other down, and did not reinup until they were so close that it seemed impossible to avoid a shock.
"Have you seen the buffaloes lately?" inquired Pemberton, after thefirst salutation had passed.
"Yes, there are large bands not an hour's ride from this. Some of ouryoung warriors have remained to hunt. We are going to the fort totrade."
"Good; you will find tobacco enough there to keep you smoking till Ireturn with fresh meat," said Pemberton, in the native tongue, which hecould speak like an Indian. "I'll not be long away. Farewell."
No more words were wasted. The traders galloped away over the prairie,and the Indians, of whom there were about fifteen, dashed off in thedirection of the fort.
These Indians were a very different set of men from those whom I havealready introduced to the reader in a former chapter. There are manytribes of Indians in the wilderness of Rupert's Land, and some of thetribes are at constant war with each other. But in order to avoidconfusing the reader, it may be as well to divide the Indian race intotwo great classes--namely, those who inhabit the woods, and those whoroam over the plains or prairies. As a general rule, the thick woodIndians are a more peaceful set of men than the prairie Indians. Theyare few in number, and live in a land full of game, where there is farmore than enough of room for all of them. Their mode of travelling incanoes, and on foot, is slow, so that the different tribes do not oftenmeet, and they have no occasion to quarrel. They are, for the mostpart, a quiet and harmless race of savages, and being very dependent onthe fur-traders for the necessaries of life, they are on their goodbehaviour, and seldom do much mischief.
It is very different with the plain Indians. These savages have numbersof fine horses, and live in a splendid open country, which iswell-stocked with deer and buffaloes, besides other game. They are boldriders, and scour over the country in all directions, consequently thedifferent tribes often come across each other when out hunting.Quarrels and fights are the results, so that these savages are naturallya fierce and warlike race. They are independent too; for although theyget their guns and ammunition and other necessaries from the traders,they can manage to live without these things if need be. They canclothe themselves in the skins of wild animals, and when they lose theirguns, or wet their powder, they can kill game easily with their own bowsand arrows.
It was a band of these fellows that now went galloping towards FortErie, with the long manes and tails of the half-wild horses and thescalp-locks on their dresses and their own long black hair streaming inthe wind.
Pemberton and his party soon came up with the young Indians who hadremained to chase the buffaloes. He found them sheltered behind alittle mound, making preparations for an immediate attack on theanimals, which, however, were not yet visible to the men from the fort.
"I do believe they've seen buffaloes on the other side of that mound,"said Pemberton, as he rode forward.
He was right. The Indians, of whom there were six, well mounted andarmed with strong short bows, pointed to the mound, and said that on theother side of it there were hundreds of buffaloes.
As the animals were so numerous, no objection was made to thefur-traders joining in the hunt, so in another moment the united partyleaped from their horses and prepared for action. Some wiped out andcarefully loaded their guns, others examined the priming of theirpieces, and chipped the edges off the flints to make sure of their notmissing fire. All looked to the girths of their saddles, and a fewthrew off their coats and rolled their shirt-sleeves up to theirshoulders, as if they were going to undertake hard and bloody work.
Mr Pemberton took in hand to look after our friend Heywood; the restwere well qualified to look after themselves. In five minutes they wereall remounted and rode quietly to the brow of the mound.
Here an interesting sight presented itself. The whole plain was coveredwith the huge unwieldy forms of the buffaloes. They were scatteredabout, singly and in groups, grazing or playing or lying down, and inone or two places some of the bulls were engaged in single combat,pawing the earth, goring each other, and bellowing furiously.
After one look, the hunters dashed down the hill and were in the midstof the astonished animals almost before they could raise their heads tolook at them. Now commenced a scene which it is not easy to describecorrectly. Each man had selected his own group of animals, so that thewhole party was scattered in a moment.
"Follow me," cried Pemberton to Heywood, "observe what I do, and then gotry it yourself."
The fur-trader galloped at full speed towards a group of buffaloes whichstood right before him, about two hundred yards off. He carried asingle-barrelled gun with a flint lock in his right hand and a bullet inhis mouth, ready to re-load. The buffaloes gazed at him for one momentin stupid surprise, and then, with a toss of their heads and a whisk oftheir tails, they turned and fled. At first they ran with a slowawkward gait, like pigs; and to one who did not know their powers, itwould seem that the fast-running horses of the two men would quicklyovertake them. But as they warmed to the work their speed increased,and it required the horses to get up their best paces to overtake them.
After a furious gallop, Pemberton's horse ran close up alongside of afine-looking buffalo cow--so close that he could almost touch the sideof the animal with the point of his gun. Dropping the rein, he pointedthe gun without putting it to his shoulder and fired. The ball passedthrough the animal's heart, and it dropt like a stone. At the samemoment Pemberton flung his cap on the ground beside it, so that he mightafterwards claim it as his own.
The well-trained horse did not shy at the shot, neither did it check itspace for a moment, but ran straight on and soon placed its masteralongside of another buffalo cow. In the meantime, Pemberton loadedlike lightning. He let the reins hang loose, knowing that the horseunderstood his work, and, seizing the powder-horn at his side with hisright hand, drew the wooden stopper with his teeth, and poured a chargeof powder into his left--guessing the quantity, of course. Pouring thisinto the gun he put the muzzle to his mouth, and spat the ball into it,struck the butt on the pommel of the saddle to send it down, as well asto drive the powder into the pan, and taking his chance of the gunprimi
ng itself, he aimed as before, and pulled the trigger. Theexplosion followed, and a second buffalo lay dead upon the plain, with aglove beside it to show to whom it belonged.
Scenes similar to this were being enacted all over the plain, with thisdifference, that the bad or impatient men sometimes fired too soon andmissed their mark, or by only wounding the animals, infuriated them andcaused them to run faster. One or two ill-trained horses shied when theguns were fired, and left their riders sprawling on the ground. Othersstumbled into badger-holes and rolled over. The Indians did their workwell. They were used to it, and did not bend their bows until theirhorses almost brushed the reeking sides of the huge brutes. Then theydrew to the arrow heads, and, leaning forward, buried the shafts up tothe feathers. The arrow is said to be even more deadly than the bullet.
Already the plain was strewn with dead or dying buffaloes, and theground seemed to tremble with the thunder of the tread of the affrightedanimals. Jasper had `dropt' three, and Arrowhead had slain two, yet thepace did not slacken--still the work of death went on.
Having seen Pemberton shoot another animal, Heywood became fired with adesire to try his own hand, so he edged away from his companion. Seeinga very large monstrous-looking buffalo flying away by itself at no greatdistance, he turned his horse towards it, grasped his gun, shook thereins, and gave chase.
Now poor Heywood did not know that the animal he had made up his mind tokill was a tough old bull; neither did he know that a bull is bad toeat, and dangerous to follow; and, worse than all, he did not know thatwhen a bull holds his tail stiff and straight up in the air, it is asign that he is in a tremendous rage, and that the wisest thing a mancan do is to let him alone. Heywood, in fact, knew nothing, so herushed blindly on his fate. At first the bull did not raise his tail,but, as the rider drew near, he turned his enormous shaggy head a littleto one side, and looked at him out of the corner of his wicked littleeye. When Heywood came within a few yards and, in attempting to takeaim, fired off his gun by accident straight into the face of the sun,the tail went up and the bull began to growl. The ferocious aspect ofthe creature alarmed the artist, but he had made up his mind to kill it,so he attempted to re-load, as Pemberton had done. He succeeded, and,as he was about to turn his attention again to the bull, he observed oneof the men belonging to the fort making towards him. This man saw andknew the artist's danger, and meant to warn him, but his horseunfortunately put one of its feet into a hole, and sent him flying headover heels through the air. Heywood was now so close to the bull thathe had to prepare for another shot.
The horse he rode was a thoroughly good buffalo-runner. It knew thedangerous character of the bull, if its rider did not, and kept its eyewatchfully upon it. At last the bull lost patience, and, suddenlywheeling round, dashed at the horse, but the trained animal sprangnimbly to one side, and got out of the way. Heywood was all but thrown.He clutched the mane, however, and held on. The bull then continuedits flight.
Determined not to be caught in this way again, the artist seized thereins, and ran the horse close alongside of the buffalo, whose tail wasnow as stiff as a poker. Once more the bull turned suddenly round.Heywood pulled the reins violently, thus confusing his steed which ranstraight against the buffalo's big hairy forehead. It was stopped asviolently as if it had run against the side of a house. But poorHeywood was not stopped. He left the saddle like a rocket, flew rightover the bull's back, came down on his face, ploughed up the land withhis nose--and learned a lesson from experience!
Fortunately the spot, on which he fell, happened to be one of those softmuddy places, in which the buffaloes are fond of rolling their hugebodies, in the heat of summer, so that, with the exception of a bruisedand dirty face, and badly soiled clothes, the bold artist was none theworse for his adventure.
Away in the Wilderness Page 10
