croucheddown and prepared to spring. Douglas knelt and prepared to fire. Bangwent the gun. Down sprang the fierce and wounded puma. It would havebeen death indeed for Douglas had not the dogs tackled the animal. Itwas death for one of these faithful creatures, and others were terriblywounded. But the sportsman had time to load and fire again, and thistime he made sure.
There were panthers in the woods as well, but none so large or fierce asthe puma.
Killing antelopes, and various kinds of deer and elks, following thewild buffalo on the plains, hunting up the silent haunts of the turkeys,fishing and grouse shooting--all helped to make the time fly fast away,and the summer seemed to pass all too quickly by. Not that it wasalways fine weather in these vast solitudes. No, far from it. Out onthe plains, more than once they were overtaken by terrible sandstorms,while often and often a thunderstorm broke over the mountains of suchawful sublimity, that even Captain Blunt was forced to own he had neverheard such sounds before, never witnessed such blinding lightning.
Anon a wind of hurricane force would arise suddenly and go tearingthrough the woods, breaking off branches and hurling them high in air,and snapping the largest trees off in their centres, or rending them upby the roots; and if this storm was accompanied, as it often was, byrains, then the torrents that came roaring down from the mountain sides,bringing boulders and broken wood with them, would have appalled thestoutest heart to look upon them.
Then came on the sweet, soft Indian summer, the woods arrayed in all theglorious tints of the autumn, the sunsets mysterious in their verybeauty, the air soft and balmy and bracing.
It was on one of these delightful days that the whole party, with theexception of Leonard--who was busy curing bird-skins--set out for a huntfor wild sheep across the plains.
THE BLIZZARD. A RACE FOR LIFE.
Towards evening they were quietly returning after a successful day, andwere still on the plains, when, with an alarming suddenness, the sun andsky became obscured, and a cold, cutting wind began to blow. Both thetrapper and Indians knew what was coming. The buffalo meat was castaway, left on the plain to feed the wolves, and on they dashed to reachthe shelter of the canon ere the blizzard came down on them in all itsterrible and blinding force. It got rapidly darker, and the snow wasdriven and whirled around them with the force of a hurricane. BothDouglas and Blunt fell many times, and but for the Indians could neverhave reached the shelter. They got to the canon at last, however, andby good luck into the very cave where Leonard had killed the bear.Meanwhile all was darkness, and storm, and chaos without. Here theywere, and here they must remain till morning.
INDIANS.
But how fared it with Leonard? His work being finished, towards eveninghe took his gun, and accompanied by a dog set out to meet his friends.As usual with this student of nature, he was looking more at the groundthan around him, till the quick, sharp ringing bark of his dog fell onhis ear. Then he glanced upwards, and found himself face to face withIndians in their war-paint. They were Ojibbeways. On levelling his gunthey retreated to a bush, and he made his way back towards the fort, ashower of arrows falling around him, and some piercing his clothes as hedid so.
He speedily got up the drawbridge, and none too soon, for on came thesavages.
But on came the blizzard. Down swept the storm, and the boldest Indianthat ever trod could not face that fearful snow-gale.
All that night the storm raged. All that night Captain Blunt and hisparty shivered in their cave, while at the fort Leonard waited andwatched.
Book 3--CHAPTER TWO.
FIGHTING WITH INDIANS.
"But yonder comes the powerful king of day Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow Illumed with gold, his near approach Betoken glad."
Thomson.
Scene: The fort in the Rocky Mountains. Morning breaking in the east.Wind hushed. Captain Blunt and party making their way along the bottomof the canon, which in many places is deep in drifted snow.
Who can paint in words the beauty, the glory of a sunrise among themountains? Why wish to be a poet--even a Longfellow?
Why wish to be even a Turner? for what artist that ever lived couldsketch in colour the deep blue of yonder sky, or the great grey cloudsthat, even as we look change slowly to yellow and gold; or that strip ofcrimson, or the darkness of those pine trees outshining from the blueuncertain horizon's haze?
Some such thoughts as these rushed through Leonard's mind as he stood onthe ramparts of the little fort that had been to him and his friends aquiet romantic home for so many months. For those friends, though stillabsent, he somehow felt no anxiety. They were well armed, and if theymet the hostile Indians, they could no doubt give a good account ofthem, if indeed the enemy should be brave enough to come to closequarters. But despite the tales of Cooper--who has managed to encirclethe Red Man with a halo of romance--Leonard had been long enough in thewoods to find out that just as the American novelist depended uponimagination for the facts embodied in his delightful stories, so theAmerican Indian depends upon numbers for his courage. He is bold anddaring enough when he is in strong force, and when sure of victory.Then he will fight. I am not belying him.
When the party did arrive at the fort, they were much astonished at whatLeonard had to tell them.
"And the blizzard sent them adrift, eh?" said Captain Blunt. "Well,it's an ill wind that blows nobody good."
"But they'll come back," said the trapper. "Gentlemen, they'll return,that's as sartain as sunrise."
The Indian guides thought the same.
So the drawbridge was kept up all day.
But night after night passed by, and still there was no sign of theOjibbeways. Our party got bolder, and went hunting as usual.
But one day a scout found an unmistakable trail, and they followed it upand up for many miles, till it led them to the top of a high hill. Theydid not show themselves over this, for far away in a green valleybeneath they beheld an encampment; Indians on the warpath undoubtedly,with fleet, wild-looking horses hobbled near them, and a cooking firesmoking in their midst. There could not be less than fifty at theleast. Well, the fort was well stocked to stand a siege. But a siegewas _the_ one thing the party wanted to avoid. Pleasant as was thisland in summer and autumn, no one of them wished to winter here. It wasdetermined, therefore, to dispatch one of the Indian scouts forassistance to his tribe. It would be a terrible adventure, to journeyall alone over hill and dale and prairie land in an enemy's country, butthe promise of a reward was sufficient to make several volunteer.
Another went out every night to watch the enemy. They had come nearer,and were now only three miles from the fort.
Now, there is nothing that Britons will not dare; and when one eveningLeonard said,--
"I say, Douglas, some of those Indian horses would come in handy toassist in our journey homeward."
"That they would," replied Douglas. "I was thinking the same."
"Hurrah!" then said Leonard; "let us have them."
So it was agreed to make the attempt.
And this is how it was accomplished. Four of the friendly Indians madea _detour_, and attacked the camp of the foe in the rear. It was alovely moonlight night, and this ruse was completely successful. Theenemy sprang to their bows and arrows, and prepared to repel the attack.A shot or two was fired, then the friendlies ran pursued by the foe.The white men had it all their own way now; they speedily picked outeight of the best horses, and were soon galloping off camp-wards asquickly as the nature of the ground would permit.
In this case, at all events, fortune favoured the brave, and all gotsafe inside the fort, only one Indian being wounded slightly.
But the Ojibbeways determined on revenge, and the very next night quitea cloud of arrows was poured into the fort, and then an attempt made toscale the rampart, the savages making night hideous with their howlingsand wild cries. They had to retire worsted, however, and it was nearlya week before they again made an at
tack. But meanwhile they had beengreatly reinforced, and the fight was now a terrible one. It beganwhile it still was dark, but soon the moon rose, then the Indianssuffered severely for their rashness.
For many days, and night after night, these attacks were made. None ofthe white men were wounded, but one friendly was killed, and another put_hors de combat_. Things began to look very serious, and if assistancecame not soon Captain Blunt feared the very worst.
"Surely," thought Leonard and Douglas, "the worst has come," when onenight the poor trapper fell at their feet, pierced through the heartwith an arrow. This night's attack was a fearful one. The savages,regardless of their lives, leapt on top of the rampart, though only tofall dead within the enclosure.
But more took their place, and the fighting went on with redoubled fury.
"I fear all is up," said Captain Blunt in a moment's lull; "let us sellour lives dearly."
But hark! what was