The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  My Indian friend Jim was married, and, in the course of the day, his squaw made her appearance. She was a middle-aged woman, and tolerably good-looking for a savage. Jim informed her that I was to be her slave, and thus it may be said I was established in winter-quarters.

  The heavy storm referred to in the previous chapter, was the close of the warm season, and the fierce northern winter commenced setting in. Winter in the northwest is far different from that season in the Middle States. It is full six months in continuance, and such is the intense coldness for the greater part of the season, that the thermometer sinks to thirty and often forty degrees below zero. Two weeks after my capture, it seemed impossible to prevent freezing to death in the lodge with a roaring fire a few feet off. Yet the savages minded it hardly at all. A few extra garments were added to their costume, and they flitted as incessantly through the village as ever.

  In the tribe it was acknowledged that I was the property of Jim, and thus my lot was much more endurable than otherwise. He was really a good-hearted Indian, I believe; and the course that I ever maintained toward him won some of his regard. However, he was a lazy dog, like all of his male kindred, and, although I had an exalted opinion of him, it was impossible to discover in him any of those poetical attributes which are so generally conceded to the North American Indian. In conversation with me, he discarded entirely those extravagant, highly-wrought figures of speech common to his kindred, and added in their place an awkward oath or two, and a phrase learned from the Hudson-Bay traders. The greater part of the day he sat before his fire, smoking and gazing moodily into it, while his better-half busied herself about the apartment as willingly and contentedly as though she never dreamed of a different lot. Of course, I assisted her as much as lay within my power, and came at last to do all of the out-door work.

  I have always regarded my capture by this tribe of Indians as a fortunate circumstance. I cannot imagine how else I could have maintained life through the unusually severe winter which followed. No mortal hand could have saved me from perishing from cold, while it would have been utterly impossible to have procured food, when the snow lay six feet upon the ground, and the rivers were sealed by great depths of ice. Although frequent occasions presented themselves, I determined to make no effort to leave my captors until the spring had arrived.

  As mentioned, I had pretty well-defined suspicions that Jim was one of the savages who occupied the mysterious canoe, referred to in the preceding chapters. I was not positive of this, although, when I stood by his side and viewed his profile, the resemblance seemed perfect.

  One great disappointment had already come. I was sure that I should learn something either of Nat, or of the fair, mysterious captive. When I questioned Jim, he answered with such apparent sincerity and truth, that I was pretty well convinced he knew nothing of either. In regard to the latter he laughed; the former he merely shook his head; he knew nothing of either. Sometimes when I fell into a deep reverie, and suddenly awoke, I could see Jim lift his eyes quickly from me, as though he had been endeavoring to satisfy himself of my identity. He questioned me artfully, and I told him all. At last, I resolved to put the question direct.

  “Jim, didn’t you and another warrior, some weeks ago, pass down the river, some distance south, with a white woman?”

  There was a perceptible start at this question, but he answered promptly:

  “Don’t know nothing ’bout ’em.”

  “Why, I was pretty sure that I saw you.”

  He shook his head.

  There was nothing to be gained by further questioning, and I gave it up. But I was satisfied he knew more of Nat and the sweet captive than he was willing to tell—and I was not mistaken.

  Shortly after this conversation, Jim told me that he and several of his tribe were in the employ of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, and traded numerous furs with them every spring. I asked him whether he was not in the territory of the Northwest Fur Company. He replied that that made no difference; each trespassed upon the other’s grounds, and he had been engaged for both.2

  A few weeks subsequent to this, there came a storm which laid the snow six feet deep, and Jim informed me that, in company with several others, he should proceed to set his traps for the winter’s work, and he willingly consented that I should accompany him. Preparations were accordingly made. Extra garments were donned, a couple of traps taken by each, and, placing our snow-shoes upon our feet, we sallied forth. This was the first time I ever attempted to travel with snow-shoes, and, as may be supposed, I made awkward work of it. These were fully six feet in length, resembling a canoe somewhat in shape, and of extreme lightness. The interior is filled with a gauzy network, which allows the light, sand-like snow to fall through without impeding one’s progress. They are fastened loosely but securely to the feet, and when the snow is not dampened by thaws, twenty miles can be easily made in a day. Without these convenient things, it would be next to impossible to travel during six months of the year in the fur-bearing regions.

  We proceeded westward some eight or ten miles before all of the traps were set, when, turning, we retraced our steps, intending to visit them the following night. The trap used by the Indians of this section is much the same as the common steel-trap of the States, being, however, much larger, and without the saw-like teeth of the latter. A long chain, with a heavy stone attached, is fastened to the trap, and concealed beneath the snow, to prevent the animal making off with the whole concern. The trap is placed just beneath the surface of the snow, and bits of frozen fish are scattered around, which attract the half-starved foxes, lynx, beavers, and wolves in the region. Having completed all arrangements, we retraced our steps, and reached the village just as night was setting in.

  Nothing of note took place the next day, and, as the night came on, Jim informed me that they were going to visit their traps to ascertain what luck they had. As he made no objection, I again donned my snow-shoes and joined them. There was but one savage beside himself. The snow was crisp and fine, and the traveling comparatively easy. Jim dragged a small sled behind him for the purpose of bringing back anything found in the traps.

  It was a bright moonlight night, and as we journeyed through the forest, there were patches of snow almost as light as day. We shunned the trees, as the snow-crust was brittle around them, and once or twice crossed broad belts of snow, devoid of timber, which Jim informed me were the beds of rivers. As we traveled on, nothing broke the silence, except the muffled sliding of our shoes over the icy crust, or a single word from one of the savages; and it occurred to me that if my friends at home could have seen me at this particular moment, they would have imagined I was searching for gold in a strange country.

  The first trap we reached had the fore-leg of a fox in it only. I looked at Jim inquiringly, unable to understand what it meant.

  “He gnawed him off, and run away; look out next time.”

  The fox had been caught by his fore-leg, and, finding himself unable to get loose, had eaten off the imprisoned limb and escaped on the others. In a month’s time he would probably suffer no inconvenience from it. In the next trap was found a red fox, whose fur bears but a trifling value. He was killed, placed upon the sled, the trap reset, and we proceeded to the rest. None of them had been visited, except the last. In this was imprisoned a beautiful black fox, the capture of which nearly set the two savages into ecstasies. The fur, of this animal is more valuable than that of any other caught by the trappers, one alone sometimes bringing as high as two hundred dollars. It is so rarely captured, and such a prize, when taken, that a hunter would be satisfied with one single animal during the whole season.

  Our two animals being secured upon our sled, and the traps carefully reset, we commenced our return journey. The night was far advanced when we reached the Indian village. As we entered our lodge, Jim’s squaw arose noiselessly and replenished the fire. While removing my snow-shoes, I remarked to Jim that my feet had felt for the last hour or two as though they were asleep.


  “Let me see him,” he asked quickly, jerking off the thick moccasins which I had donned a few weeks back. He looked at my feet a moment, and then exclaimed, “By dam, him froze up!”

  I was considerably startled at this, and anxiously asked him if they were badly frozen.

  “Yaw, but me fix em,” he answered, and commenced immediately rubbing until I begged him to desist. He paid no heed to my entreaties, but continued this treatment until he had restored completely the congealed circulation, and saved the useful members.

  The savages had but poor fortune in trapping this winter, and there was considerable suffering. The Indians of the northwest rely solely upon what they are able thus to take, for their food during the cold season; and, as there is generally plenty of game, they fare well. But now and then some unaccountable cause drives all the animals away, and cases of actual starvation have occurred. Jim told me that three winters before a case of cannibalism had occurred in their tribe, and years before that, when a mere child, there came an appalling time. Half the families were obliged to devour some of their members to support life until spring, and, for over a week, an old, miserable bison supported the whole tribe. Jim said he had more than once cooked his moccasins and eaten them.

  The tribe was driven to no such extremity as this while I was with them, and I saw no want myself. Jim was one of their best hunters and he supplied his own lodge before that of others. Yet, there were others who were not so fortunate, and who were often compelled to endure the pangs of hunger for days at a time. When food was secured, they gorged themselves nearly to bursting, and were the happiest of mortals, until the wants of nature again made themselves felt.

  I could write far more of my experience with this tribe of Indians; but I feel it would be hardly in place here, as there are other characters in this narrative who must claim notice. My aim has been only to dwell long enough upon particulars, for an understanding of the events that follow. During my captivity, several things occurred to make me suspect that the mysterious captive referred to was in this village the whole time, and I was satisfied that the Indian Jim knew more of Nat than he would impart to me. These imaginings filled me with moody misgivings, and I made a resolve that as soon as spring came I would make my escape; and if I could learn nothing of the two beings whose fate was unknown to me, depart for the States. The life I was leading was a wearisome, monotonous one, and in time would become unbearable. Spring was but a month or two distant, and in its approach I placed my fondest hopes; but it was doomed to open an experience in my life of which I little dreamed.

  CHAPTER IX

  The Buffalo Hunt and Its Consequences

  During my captivity among the Indians, as stated in the last chapter, there was considerable suffering on account of the scarcity of food. The country to the north of Nebraska is the paradise of all species of game in the summer months, but during the winter the large animals proceed to the southward, and the deep snows prevent the capture of the smaller ones, except by means of traps. Spring, therefore, was looked forward to with eager expectation, as the harbinger of enjoyment and the season of the chase.

  And it came at last. First, the sun grew hotter and blazed more fiercely; the snow became damp and cloggy, and the dripping of water could be heard through the day and night. Snow-shoe traveling was now nearly impossible, as long as the thaw continued. Huge streams of melted snow poured into the rivers all along the banks, and the ice became weaker and weaker each moment, till, at last, with a terrific crashing and thundering, the whole mass started, and, a week after, the clear, blue running water only was seen. The thaw continued, until at last all the snow had disappeared, and with feelings of indescribable joy, we once more saw the face of the earth. Vegetation now commenced with surprising growth, and, in an almost incredible short space of time, bright, radiant, glorious spring held indisputed reign. Indians were departing and arriving every day with loads of fish, wild fowl, and game, and the village was a scene of unbridled feasting for many a day.

  One forenoon, a savage, who had been absent a day or two, announced that a herd of buffaloes were quietly browsing a few miles to the southward. This produced violent commotion throughout the village, and preparations were at once made for the grand hunt. Some twenty or thirty splendid Indian ponies were mounted by as many warriors, and, to my inexpressible delight, Jim informed me that I should accompany them. A small, high-spirited animal was given me as my charger. He was of a dark color, and his dappled haunches glistened in the sun like polished ebony.

  About noon we sallied forth from the village, and struck a southward direction, restraining our animals to a walk, in order to preserve their wind for the severe test at hand. While riding along by the side of Jim, the thought of escape—which had not been absent from me for the last six months—came with double force. I was now mounted upon a fleet, long-winded animal, who could hold his own with any horse bestrode by the Indians, and what was to prevent my escape? In the bewilderment and excitement of the chase, I might wander miles away, and be gone many hours, without exciting suspicion. My captors, I suppose, had no thoughts of my attempting a flight, as I had permitted so many opportunities to pass, and I felt there would be no suspicious eyes watching my motions. The prairie stretched hundreds of miles to the southward, and it seemed my animal longed to bound away upon it. At any rate, I felt the time had come, and resolved that I should never return to the Indian village a captive.

  An hour or so after, we came in sight of the drove, cropping the new grass of the prairie. So numerous were they, that, as we looked over them, it was impossible to see their extent. Far away, until they touched the horizon, the ocean of dark, swarming bodies could be seen.

  Our animals now partook of the excitement of their masters. Arching their necks, they scented the prey afar, and it was nearly impossible to restrain their impatience. They snorted, and plunged, champed their bits, and shook their heads, and seemed determined to rush forward despite all restraint.

  We continued stealthily approaching in a body, preserving strict silence, in order not to alarm the game. In this way, we came within a hundred yards, when a bull raised his alarmed gaze at us, and, giving a loud snort, heaved his huge body round, and plunged madly into the herd. All took the alarm, and went thundering away, making the earth tremble with their multitudinous tread.

  It was now wholly useless to undertake to check our animals longer, and, setting up a wild yell, the Indians scattered and plunged after them. The buffalo is not a runner, and, owing to the shortness of his fore-legs, appears to roll in his gait. The Indians’ horses soon bring their riders alongside the bisons, and as soon as the shot is given, they shy off to avoid the infuriated animal’s horns. Before I was prepared for it, my animal was abreast of a buffalo, and waiting for my shot. Here I committed a blunder common to all beginners of the hunt. I fired while holding the reins in my hands. The consequence was, my bullet struck the animal somewhere about the head, got entangled in his mane, where it would drop out in a day or two. My horse immediately veered to one side, and allowed the buffalo to run until I could reload. I now saw my beast knew more of the chase than I did, and dropping the rein upon his neck, allowed him full freedom.

  Cautiously, but rapidly, he came alongside the plunging buffalo, and taking more care, I sent a bullet through the fore part of his body. It was his death-wound; and, seemingly conscious of his fate, and determined on revenge, he wheeled instantly round, drove his fore-feet into the ground, and dropped his head to rip up my charger. This movement was so sudden, and we were so close upon him, that my horse could neither check his speed nor turn to one side. But he avoided him for all that. Dropping upon his haunches with a snort, he made a terrific bound upward and went clean over the buffalo. The maddened animal expected this, and plunged his horns upward at him, expecting to still kill him. The instinct of the horse was too much, however; he, too, feared such a fate, and leaped high enough to avoid him. As he came to the earth again, he plunged swiftly away, the enraged bu
ffalo in full pursuit; but he easily kept clear from him, wheeling and dodging, and still remaining nigh enough for me to give my shot. My gun was unloaded, and before I could charge it, the buffalo had fallen to the earth and was fast dying.

  I now looked about me. Buffaloes were flying in every direction, and the forms of the savages could be seen darting to and fro among them, dealing death and destruction at every turn. The main herd was pouring simultaneously southward, while the scores which had been cut off, were endeavoring to rejoin them, carrying us along with them. In different parts of the prairie could be seen the dark, motionless forms of the slain buffaloes, showing how successful the chase had been thus far.

  The sky, which in the morning was fair and clear, was now becoming overcast with heavy clouds, and two or three warning rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance. Still, the savages were too excited to notice the interruption, as long as a single buffalo remained. I saw Jim plunge his horse unhesitatingly into a crowd of a dozen or so, when, as he commenced dealing destruction, his horse became entangled, and he was compelled to make a flying leap over the backs of the animals around him. This he accomplished successfully, leaping from one back to the other, until he was clear of them all.

  Suddenly, it occurred to me, while holding my fiery horse, that if I meditated escape it was high time to be about it. Turning to the southward, I could just descry the drove thundering away, a vast cloud of dust circling above them. The rein was dropped upon the neck of my horse, and, stretching out his head, he bounded away like the wind. He was a noble animal, and was now in his element. He enjoyed the chase as much as any of the savages; and, as mile after mile of prairie flew beneath his feet, he was only warming into the excitement. As I looked back, I could just discern the Indians, like specks in the distance, still at their bloody work.