CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
RETRIBUTION.
Owing to the success of the buffalo runners, the winter passed away incomparative comfort. But, as we have said, some of the settlers who hadbeen ruined by the failure of the fisheries and the depredations of themice, and who did not share much in the profits of the autumn hunt, wereobliged once again to seek their old port of refuge at Pembina.
Among these was the Swiss family Morel. Andre went, because he did notwish to remain comparatively idle in the colony during the long monthsof winter. Elise went for the purpose of keeping house--perhaps weshould say keeping hut--for Andre. Fred Jenkins went because he wantedto learn more about Indian ways and customs, as well as to perfecthimself in the art of hunting the buffalo--that was all!
There were some who did not believe what the bold seaman said. EliseMorel was one of these--perhaps the most unbelieving amongst them.
Indeed, she laughed quite hilariously when his motive was reported toher by Billie Sinclair the day before they started.
"Why do you laugh so?" inquired Little Bill, who was always more or lessin a state of surprise when he got upon this subject with Elise.
"It is not easy to say, Billie," answered the girl, with anotherpleasant little laugh, "but it is so funny that a sailor should takesuch a fancy to come out here, so far away from his native element, andfind so much interest in snow-shoe walking and Indian customs."
"Yes, isn't it?" responded the boy, "and him such a fine big man, too,who has gone through so much, and seen so many lands, and been in such alot o' fights with pirates, and all that kind of thing. I can'tunderstand him at all. I wish I understood him better, for I like himvery much. Don't you?"
Elise was so much taken up with what she was doing at the time that shecould not answer the question, and Billie was in such a wandering stateof mind that he neglected to press it!
Daniel Davidson also went to Pembina that winter, because he could notbear to press the subject of his marriage just after the destruction ofhis and old McKay's crops by mice--a disaster which told rather heavilyon both families. When winter had passed away, he, along with manyothers, returned to the colony and made preparations for going out tothe plains for the spring hunt with the buffalo runners.
"You will better not be goin' wi' them," said Duncan McKay senior to hisyounger son, some days before the hunters had arranged to set out. "Itwill not be safe after your trial, for the half-breeds are mad at you,Tuncan."
If the old man had been wise enough to have left his son alone, Duncanjunior would probably have remained where he was; but the mere offer ofadvice roused in him the spirit of opposition, and that reference to thehalf-breeds decided him.
"If all the half-breeds in Rud River wass to go as mad as buffalo-bullswi' their tails cut off, I would go," said Duncan junior, with quietdecision of tone and manner, as he lighted his pipe.
"Ay, it iss that same you would do if you wass to be hanged to-morrowfor doin' it, Tuncan," returned the old man testily, as he firedcloudlets in rapid succession from his compressed lips.
Duncan junior was equally firm in replying to his sister's remonstranceslater in the day.
"You know, dear Duncan," she said, "that, although I believe you to bequite innocent, most of the half-breeds are of the opposite opinion, andsome of them are very revengeful, especially when they think they havebeen deceived or unjustly treated."
"I do not fear the half-breeds," replied the youth gruffly.
"Of course you don't, Duncan, but you know that, though most of them aregood, trusty men, some are mean fellows, who would not hesitate to shootyou in the smoke and confusion of the hunt. Do give up the idea, for mysake, dear."
"I would do much for your sake, Elspie, but not this, for it iss showin'the white feather I am, they will be sayin', and, as father often says,that iss what must never be true of a McKay."
Accordingly, Duncan junior mounted his horse, and accompanied Dan,Peter, Fergus, Okematan, Morel, Jenkins, and others to the plains, wherethey found that the main body of the hunters, under Antoine Dechamp, hadarrived just before them. Kateegoose was also there, and La Certe, whoonce more tried his fortune at the chase under all the advantages of anew cart and horse, a new gun, and a new outfit--all received oncredit--to be paid for by the proceeds of the chase, as the creditors,hoping against hope, tried to believe; never to be paid for at all, asthe easy-going La Certe more than half suspected--though he was far toohonest a man to admit that even to himself.
Of course, Slowfoot was with him--amiable, meek, and silent as ever.And so was Baby La Certe, a five-year-old by that time, and obviously agirl with a stronger penchant than ever for tobacco!
"The buffalo have been found already," said Dechamp to Dan Davidson, asthe latter rode into camp at the head of his party. "Bourassin has justcome in with the report that they are in great numbers away to thenor'-west, so we will make a fair start first thing in the morning."
As he spoke, Dechamp glanced with evident surprise at Duncan McKay.
"Why did you let him come?" he said in an under-tone to Dan, as theywere tying up the horses.
"How could I prevent him?" replied Dan.
Next morning all was bustle, eager expectation, and lively conversationin the camp. Archie was there again, promoted to the condition of afull-fledged hunter by the possession of a gun. Little Bill was therealso. He had improved so much in health and strength that he waspermitted to ride with the runners on a pony; but was to content himselfwith viewing the battle from afar--that is, well in rear.
"Now, Little Bill," said Archie, with the seriousness of a grandfather,as they galloped with the hunters over the rolling plains, across whichwere streaming the first beams of the rising sun, "you must promise meto keep well in rear, and on no account to join in the chase. It's ofno use to go in without a gun, you know, and there is great risk when inthe thick of it, that you may come across a bullet or two. You'll haveall the fun without the danger, Little Bill."
"All right, old boy; I'll do my best."
"Hallo, Archie!" cried Jenkins, galloping up alongside, with theblunderbuss in his left hand, "I've bin lookin' for you, lad. It's noteasy to spy out a friend in such a shoal o' queer craft. Are 'ee goin'to sail alongside o' me this bout?"
"Of course I am, Fred. A man that can steer his way by compass oversuch a sea o' grass is worth holding on to."
"Well, then, heave ahead. We'll hunt in couples. I see they're gettin'into line o' battle, which means that the enemy's in view."
The sailor was right. Buffalo were seen grazing in the far distance,and the cavalcade was getting into line so as to advance in good order.
As on a former occasion, they approached at a slow pace until theanimals began to lift their heads and throw inquiring glances in thedirection from which the mounted host came. Then the word was given totrot, and, finally, to charge.
The rush on this occasion was even more tremendous than on the former,for there were considerably more men, and a larger herd of buffalo.
The lumbering heavy gait of the latter at the first start did notsuggest the racing speed to which the clumsy creatures attained whenthey were hard pressed. Soon the dropping shots of the fast ridersswelled into the rattling musketry of the real fight, and ere long theplain became strewed with dead and wounded animals, while smoke and dustobscured the air.
There was no order maintained after the first onset. Every man seemedto fight for his own hand. Crossing and re-crossing and firingrecklessly in all directions, it seemed a very miracle that no fatalaccidents occurred. Minor ones there were. Archie and his nauticalcomrade witnessed a few of these.
"I say, look at Bourassin!" exclaimed the former, pointing to the leftwith his nose--both hands being fully engaged with gun and bridle.
The seaman's eye turned in the direction indicated, and he beheldBourassin's horse stopped by the hairy forehead of a buffalo-bull, whileBourassin himself was in the act of describing a magnificent paraboliccurve
over the buffalo's back. He alighted on his back, fortunately ona low bush, a yard or two beyond the buffalo's tail.
"Killed!" exclaimed Jenkins, anxiously, as he turned his horse in thedirection of the fallen man.
But the seaman was wrong. The hunter did indeed lie flat and motionlessfor a few seconds--which was just as well, for it gave the bull time totoss off the horse, turn, and leap over the prostrate man in continuingits flight; but in another moment Bourassin was on his feet, soon caughthis trembling horse, remounted, and continued the chase.
A little further on they saw Peter Davidson's horse put his foot in abadger-hole, the result of which was that the horse rolled over in onedirection, while the expert Peter, tumbling cleverly to one side, rolledaway in another direction like a Catherine-wheel. Both horse and manarose unhurt, and, like Bourassin, continued the chase.
"Necks ain't easy broke in this here country," remarked the seaman, asArchie pushed past him in pursuit of a fat young cow.
"Not often. Necks are tough, you see, and ground is mostly soft," criedArchie, as he fired and dropped the cow.
"Who's that away to the right, ridin' like a madman after a calf?" askedJenkins, overtaking Archie, who was recharging his gun at the gallop.
"Who--where?" cried the boy, looking impatiently round.
"Keep cool, lad! Whatever condition you chance to be in, whether ofdanger or safety, always keep cool. For why?--it makes you comfortable,or more fit for action, as the case may be. See, the fellow over therehalf-hidden by smoke."
"Why, that's Duncan McKay. You might know him by his hat."
"I ain't a good judge o' hats," remarked the seaman, as he fired at abull and missed it. "Ha! that comes o' firin' at long range," he said."It was at least six yards off, an' I can't count on the old blunderbussbeyond five. Better luck next time!"
"Hallo! Jenkins, did you hear that?"
"What?"
"That shriek? I'm sure some one has been hurt."
"Very likely, lad. There's many a cropper a-goin' on just now, an' wecan't all expect to come off scot-free."
"The voice sounded like that of Fergus," said Archie, "but I can seenothing for smoke now. Is that a man on the ground over there?"
"Don't know, Archie. Out o' the way, lad; there's another chance. Mustget closer this time."
The tide of the chase swept on with irresistible fury, and not one ofall the band saw that the man who had fallen did not rise.
Following close in rear, and profoundly excited with this new and wildexperience of life, came Little Bill, galloping along on his pony.
The poor boy had either greatly benefited by his recent adventures, or achange had taken place in his constitution, for he rode with ease, andfound that he could walk considerable distances without the old wearyfeeling of exhaustion.
As Little Bill passed over the prairie, which resembled a field ofbattle where, not men, but buffaloes had been the combatants, he camesuddenly upon the dismounted hunter, who lay prone upon his face.
"Poor man!" thought Little Bill, pulling up and dismounting, "he seemsto have been badly stunned."
Stooping down he turned the fallen man over on his back with somedifficulty, and then discovered, to his consternation, that it was youngDuncan McKay, and that blood was flowing from a wound in his side.
The shock at first deprived Billie of the power to do anything, but in avery few minutes his strong common sense returned, and his first act wasto open Duncan's coat and stanch the wound. This he accomplished bymeans of a strip torn off the poor man's cotton shirt, and the long redworsted belt with which the hunter's capote was bound. Then he tookfrom his pocket a small bottle of water, with which he had providedhimself in case of need, and poured a little into Duncan's mouth.
The result of these operations was that the fallen man opened his eyesafter a while, raised himself on one elbow, and looked round in a dazedmanner.
"What iss it that has come over me?" he asked, faintly.
"You have fallen off your horse, I think," answered the boy, "and I--I'mafraid a bullet has wounded you in the side."
"Bullet! Side!" exclaimed Duncan, looking quickly down at the bandage,and attempting to rise. "Little Bill, you must--"
He stopped; seemed to grow faint, and fell down; but quickly raisedhimself again on one elbow and looked round.
"Shot!--dying!" he muttered; then turning to the boy--"Stay by me,Little Bill. Don't leave me here all alone."
"No, I won't leave you, unless--perhaps it would be better if I rodeback to camp for help."
"True, true. It's my only chance," said the poor man, faintly. "Go,Billie, and go quick. Put something under my head. And--stay--leaveyour gun with me."
"I'm so sorry I haven't got one, but here is my bottle of water; you maywant that, and--"
He stopped, for Duncan had evidently fainted again.
The poor boy was terribly alarmed at this. He had wit enough toperceive that prompt action was needed, for his friend was in very greatdanger, while the buffalo runners were by that time out of sight infront, and the camp was far behind. In this crisis Billie acted withdecision. First making the bandage over the wound more secure, andpouring a little more water into the mouth of the wounded man, he wentto a clump of willows, and cut a stout switch, then, remounting, heturned on his track and made straight for the camp as fast as hiswilling pony could be made to lay hoof to the ground.
Arrived there, to his great relief he found the Cree chief Okematan, forthat eccentric individual had, owing to some unknown reason, refrainedfrom joining in the hunt that day. La Certe was also there.
In a few minutes, mounted on a fresh horse, Little Bill was gallopingover the prairie, acting as guide to Okematan, while La Certe followedthem, driving a cart with a couple of buffalo-robes in it.
That night, instead of rejoicing in the camp of the buffalo runnersafter their successful hunt, there was uneasiness and gloom, for DuncanMcKay lay in his tent dangerously wounded, and it was generally believedthat the shot which laid him low had been fired not by accident, butwith deliberate intent to kill.
The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains Page 31
