CHAPTER IX.
ON THE PLAINS.
"I THINK now that you can spare me, Mr. Willcox," Frank said, just amonth after the day of landing. "The store has got into swing now; thetwo negroes know their work well, and everything is going on smoothly;therefore, if you have no objection, I shall see about making a start."
"I shall be sorry to lose you," Mr. Willcox said; "but, as you say, theplace will run itself now. I shall go down by the next steamer, and sendup two more storekeepers and a clerk from my office there. This is goingto be a big thing. Well, lad, here's the money you gave me to take careof, and the two hundred dollars due to you. I will give orders toSimpson that you are to take everything you can require for your journeyfrom the store, and mind don't stint yourself; you have done right-downgood service here, and I feel very much indebted to you for the way youhave stuck to me at this pinch. I wish you every luck, lad, and I hopesome day that rascally affair at home will be cleared up, and that youcan go back again cleared of that ugly charge. Anyhow, it is well foryou to make your way out here. It will be a satisfaction for you, if youdo go back, to have shown that you were dependent on no one, but thatyou could fight your own way, and make your living by the aid of yourown hands and your own brain. And now look here, if at any time you getsick of gold-digging, as you very well may, and want to turn your handto anything else--and in a country like that, mind you, with apopulation pouring in from all parts, there will be bigopportunities,--if you want capital to start you, just you send a letterto David Willcox, New Orleans, and tell me you have drawn on me for fivethousand dollars. I am a rich man, lad, and have no children of my own;I have some nephews and nieces who will get my money some day, but I cando what I like with it, and you will be heartily welcome to the sum Imention. I have taken a fancy to you, and it will be a real pleasure tome to help you. If you do well you can some day send the money back, ifyou like; if you don't do well, there's an end of it. Don't let ittrouble you for a moment, for it certainly won't trouble me, and be sureyou don't hesitate to draw it when you want it. Remember, I shan'tregard it as an obligation, but it will be a real genuine pleasure to meto cash that order."
Frank thanked Mr. Willcox very heartily for his kind offer, of which hepromised to avail himself should an opportunity arise, and in any caseto write to him occasionally to tell him how he was getting on. Then hestrolled out to examine the great gathering round the settlement, whichhitherto he had had no time to do, having been at work from daybreakuntil late at night. As he wandered among the motley throng ofemigrants, he was struck with the hopefulness which everywhereprevailed, and could not but feel that many of them were doomed todisappointment. Many of them were storekeepers, men who had never done aday's work in their life; some were aged men, encumbered with wives andlarge families, and Frank wondered how these would ever survive theterrible journey across the plains, even if they escaped all molestationfrom the marauding Indians. He paused for a moment near four men whowere seated round a fire cooking their meals.
All were sturdy, sunburnt men, who looked inured to hardship and work.The fact that all were animated by a common impulse rendered every onefriendly and communicative, and Frank was at once invited to sit down.
"Of course you are going through, young fellow?"
"Yes," Frank said, "I am going to try."
"Got a horse, I suppose?"
"Yes," Frank said, "a riding horse, and a pony for my baggage."
"We calls it swag out on the plains," one said; "we don't talk ofbaggage here. Are you with any one?"
"No," Frank replied, "I am alone; but I am open to join some party. Isuppose there will be no difficulty about that."
"None on airth," the other answered; "the stronger the better. In courseyou have a rifle, besides that Colt in your belt."
"Yes," Frank replied; "but I suppose all this Indian talk isexaggeration, and there is not much danger from them."
"Don't you go to think it, young man; the Injins is thar, you bet, andno mistake, and a big grist of scalps they will take. The news of thishere percession across the plains will bring them down as thick as beeson the track, and I tell you there will be some tough fights afore weget across."
"Have you had much experience of the plains?" Frank asked.
"We are hunters," the other said briefly, "and have been out there, moreor less, since we were boys. We knows what Injins is, and have foughtthem agin and agin; but none of us have ever made this journey,--indeedthere warn't five men who had ever crossed the Rockies by the northerntrack afore the gold scare began. But I know enough of the country toknow as it will be a fearful journey, and full half of these people asyou see fooling about here as if they were out for a summer excursionwill leave their bones by the way."
"You don't really think things are as bad as that," Frank said.
"I does," the other replied emphatically. "What with Injins, and want offood and water, and fatigue, and the journey across the plains, it willwant all a man to make the journey. We four means to get through, andare bound to do it; but as for this crowd you see here, God help them!"
"Do you mean to go with one of the caravans, or start alone?"
"There is a lot going on to-morrow, and we shall join them. We may be ofsome use, for the best part of them are no better than a flock of sheep,and four good hands may keep them out of some mischief; but I expect weshall have to push on by ourselves before the journey is over."
"I am intending to go on to-morrow also," Frank said, "and I hope youwon't mind giving me some instructions in the ways of the wilderness,which are, I own, altogether new to me."
"All right, young fellow; we shall see you on the road, and if you likesto chum up with us you may, for I likes yer looks, and you seems to beone of the right sort."
Frank said that he would gladly chum with them if they would allow him,and the next morning, at daybreak, having said adieu to Mr. Willcox, hesaddled his horse and loaded up his pony, and moved across to the spotwhere his new acquaintances were encamped. They were preparing for astart. All had good riding horses, while two baggage animals carried theprovisions for the party. The caravan which they intended to accompanywas already far out on the plain.
"They are off in good time," Frank said; "I did not think they wouldmanage to move till midday."
"No more they would," one of the hunters said; "but the chap as isbossing the team moved them off yesterday evening, and got them a mileout of camp, so they were able to start right off the first thing thismorning."
In a few minutes they were on horseback, and, riding at easy pace forthe sake of the baggage-horses, they overtook the caravan in two hours.It consisted of fourteen waggons, and four or five light carts withtilts over them. The waggons were all drawn by oxen, having six, eight,or ten according to their size or weight. The men walked by the side oftheir cattle; the greater part of the women and children trudged alongbehind the waggons, while a few with babies were seated within them.From time to time one of the men or boys would set up a song, and allwould join in the chorus. One of these was ringing out in the air whenthe hunters joined them.
"Poor critturs!" the eldest of the hunters, who was called Abe by theothers, said, "they are as light-hearted as if they war a-going to acamp meeting; they don't know what's afore them."
The party rode on to the head of the waggons, where the oxen were led bythe man who was regarded as the head of the party. He had at one timebeen a hunter, but had married and settled down on a farm. Two sons,nearly grown-up, walked by his side. He had been chosen as leader by therest as being the only one of the party who had any previous knowledgeof the plains and their dangers and difficulties.
"Well, mate," Abe said, "I told you two days ago that I thought that weshould go on with your lot, and here we are. I don't say as how we shallgo all the way with you; that will depend upon circumstances; at anyrate we will stay with ye for a bit. Now my proposal is this: you shallhitch our three baggage-horses on behind your waggons, and tell off oneof the boys to look after t
hem; we shall hunt as we go along, and whatmeat there is will be for the service of the camp, but if we supply youwith meat it will only be fair that you supply us with flour and tea."
"That's a bargain," the man said. "You bring us in meat, and we willsupply you with everything else; and I needn't tell you how glad I am tohave you with me. Five extra rifles may make all the difference if weare attacked. We have got about twenty rifles in camp; but that ain'tmuch, as, with women and children, we count up to nigh sixty souls, andnone of us here except myself have had any experience of Indian ways."
"That's fixed, then," Abe said. "At any rate you need not be afraid of asurprise so long as we are with you."
The addition to their party gave great satisfaction to the wholecaravan. Of flour and bacon they had ample stores to last them upontheir long journey, and the prospect of a supply of fresh meat wasexceedingly welcome; still more was the thought that the hunters wouldbe able to warn them against any surprise by the Indians, and would, incase of the worst, aid them in their defence.
The hunters were equally satisfied. Their supplies were quiteinsufficient for the journey, and they were now free from the necessityof accommodating their pace to that of the baggage-horses. Theirprogress would, indeed, be slower than it would have been had theyjourneyed alone, but time was a matter of no importance to them. Even inthe matter of Indian surprises they were better off than they would havebeen had they been alone. In case of meeting these marauders, they musthave abandoned their baggage-animals; and their prospects, either offlight or defence, would have been poor had they met with a large bodywhen alone, whereas the force with the caravan could defend the waggonsagainst even a resolute attack of the redskins. There was no occasionfor the hunters to set out in the pursuit of game for the first day ortwo, as a supply of fresh meat had been brought from Omaha. Theytherefore rode with the caravan, making the acquaintance of its variousmembers.
One of the women had volunteered to cook for them; and thus, when theyencamped on the banks of a small stream, they had only to attend to thewatering of their animals. While the meal was preparing they walkedabout in the camp, and gave many hints to the women as to the best wayof preparing fires. These were gratefully received, for the emigrantswere wholly unaccustomed to cooking without the usual appliances, andtheir efforts, in many cases, had been very clumsy and unsuccessful.They were surprised to find that by digging a trench in the directionfrom which the wind was blowing, and covering it over with sods, theycould get a draught to their fire equal to that which they could obtainin a grate; while by building a low wall of sod close to leeward of thefire, they prevented the flames from being driven away, and concentratedthem upon their pots and kettles.
"It does not matter for to-night," Abe said to the leader, "nor for agood many nights to come; but if I was you I should begin to-morrow tomake 'em arrange the waggons in proper form, the same as if we was inthe Injin country. It ain't no more trouble, and there's nothing likebeginning the right way."
"You are right," the man said, "to-morrow night we will pitch them ingood form; but for a time there will be no occasion for the cattle to bedriven in every night, the longer they have to graze the better."
"That's so," Abe said; "they will want all their condition for the badcountry further on."
The following day the hunters left the camp early. There was littlechance of finding game anywhere near the line which they were following,for the wild animals would have been scared away by the constantlypassing caravans. After riding for ten miles they began to keep awatchful eye over the country, which, although flat to the eye, wasreally slightly undulating. Proceeding at an easy pace, they rode on forupwards of an hour. Then Dick, one of the hunters, suddenly drew rein.
"What is it, Dick?" Abe asked.
A DEER-HUNT ON THE PRAIRIE.]
"I saw a horn over there to the left, or I am mistaken," the huntersaid.
"We will see, anyhow," Abe said; "fortunately we are down wind now. Youhad better stop behind this time, young fellow, and watch us."
In a moment the four men dismounted and threw their reins on the horses'necks--a signal which all horses on the plains know to be an order thatthey are not to move away--and the animals at once began cropping thegrass. For a short distance the men walked forward, and then, as theyneared the brow over which Dick declared he had seen the horn, they wentdown on all fours, and finally, when close to the brow, on theirstomachs.
Very slowly they drew themselves along. Frank looked on with thegreatest attention and interest, and presently saw them halt, while Abeproceeded alone. He lifted up his head slightly, and immediately laid itdown again, while the other three crawled up close to him. There was amoment's pause, then the guns were thrust forward, and each slightlyraised himself.
A moment later the four rifles flashed, and the men sprang to their feetand disappeared over the brow. Frank rode forward at full speed to thespot, and arrived there just in time to see a number of deer dashing atfull speed far across the plain, while the four hunters were gatheredround three dead stags in the hollow. The hunters' shots had all told;but two had fired at the same animal, the bullet-holes being close toeach other behind the shoulder.
"Dick was right, you see," Abe said. "It was lucky he caught sight ofthat horn, for we might not have come upon another herd to-day. Now wewill make our way on to the camping-ground; we can go easy, for weshall be there long before the teams."
Their horses were brought up, and the deer placed upon them. The huntersthen mounted, and took their way in the direction of the spot where thecaravans would encamp for the night.
"I understand how you find your way now, because the sun is up," Franksaid, "but I cannot understand how you would do it on a cloudy day,across a flat country like this, without landmarks."
"It's easier to do than it is to explain it," Abe said. "In the firstplace there's the wind; it most always blows here, and one only has tokeep that in a certain quarter. If there ain't no wind, there's thegrass and the bushes; if you look at these bushes you will see that theymost all turn a little from the direction in which the wind generallyblows, and this grass, which is in seed, droops over the same way. Then,in course, there is the general direction of the valleys, and of anylittle streams. All of these are things one goes by at first, but itgets to come natural, what they call by instinct; one knows, somehow,which is the way to go without looking for signs. You will get to it intime, if you are long enough on the plains; but at present you watch theforms of all the bushes and the lay of the grass, 'cause you see inhunting we might get separated, and you might miss your way. If youshould do so, and ain't sure of your direction, fire your gun threetimes, as quick as you can load it, and if we are in hearing we willfire a gun in reply and come to you; but you will soon get to know thesigns of the country if you will pay attention and keep your eyesskinned."
They arrived at the stream fixed upon for the camping-ground early inthe afternoon. The point at which the caravans would cross it was plainenough, for the waggons all travelled by the same line, and the trailwas strongly marked by the ruts of wheels where the ground was soft, bybroken bushes, and trampled herbage. The saddles were taken off thehorses, and these were allowed to graze at will; those of the hunterswere too well-trained to wander far, and Frank's horse was certain tokeep with the others.
Late in the afternoon the waggons arrived; it had been a long march ofmore than twenty miles, and men and beasts were alike tired. The womenand children had, during the latter part of the journey, ridden in thewaggons. There was a general feeling of satisfaction at the sight of thehunters and their spoil, and at the blazing fire, over which a portionof the meat was already roasting. The oxen were unharnessed and watered,the waggons were ranged six on each side, and two across one end, theother end being left open for convenience; across this the light cartswere to be drawn at night. The deer were skinned, cut up, and dividedamong the various families in proportion to their numbers.
For two months the caravan moved forward w
ithout adventure. The hunterskept it well provided with game, which was now very plentiful. Verydisquieting rumours were afloat along the road. These were brought downby the express riders who carried the mails across the plains, and forwhose accommodation small stations were provided, twenty or thirty milesapart; and as these were placed where water was procurable, they weregenerally selected as camping-grounds by the emigrants.
The tales of Indian forays, which had at first been little more thanrumours, were now confirmed. The express riders reported that theIndians were out in large numbers, and that many attacks had been madeupon parties of emigrants, sometimes successfully, and involving themassacre of every soul in them. The caravan was still some distance fromthe scene of these attacks; but as the Indians ranged over the wholeplains, it could not be said that they were beyond the risk of assault.Acting under the hunters' advice, the caravan now moved in much closerorder, the waggons advancing two abreast, so that they could be formedin position for defence at the shortest notice; and the rifles werealways kept loaded, and strapped on the outsides of the waggons inreadiness for instant use.
Frank had by this time become an adept in hunting, and though still veryfar behind his companions in skill with the rifle, was able to make afair contribution towards the provisioning of the camp. The hunters nowdivided into two parties, three going out in search of game on one sideof the line of march, two on the other; they thus acted as scouts oneither side, and would be able to bring in word should any suspicioussigns be observed. Several small herds of buffalo had been met with, anda sufficient number killed to provide the party with meat for some timeto come.
Frank had never passed a more enjoyable time than those two months oftravel. The air was clear, bright, and exhilarating; the long days spentin the saddle, and the excitement of the chase, seemed to quicken hispulse and to fill him with a new feeling of strength and life. Hisappetite was prodigious, and he enjoyed the roughly cooked meals roundthe blazing fire of an evening, as he had never enjoyed food before.The country was, it is true, for the most part monotonous, with its longlow undulations, and the bare sweeps, unbroken by tree or bush; butthere was always something new and interesting to be seen,--for Frankwas fond of Natural History, and the habits and ways of the wildcreatures of the prairie were full of interest for him. His companions,although taciturn when on horseback and engaged in scouting the country,or in hunting, were full of anecdote as they sat round the fire of anevening, and Frank heard many a story of wild adventure with the Indiansor in the chase.
When they returned early to the camp, there was plenty of amusement inwandering about among the waggons, watching the various groups engagedat their work as unconcernedly as if they had been still in their littlefarms among the settlements, instead of on the plains with months oftoilsome and dangerous journey before them. Some of the women cooked,while others mended their clothes and those of their husbands andchildren, while the men attended to the oxen, or made such repairs aswere needed to the waggons and harness.
As for the children, the life suited them admirably; to them it was acontinual picnic, without school or lessons. And yet they too had theirshare of the work, for as soon as the waggons halted, all save the verylittle ones started at once over the plain to search for the driedbuffalo dung, or, as it was called, chips, which formed the staple ofthe fires; for wood was very scarce, and that in the neighbourhood ofthe camping-grounds, which were always at a stream or water-hole, hadlong since been cleared off by the travellers who had preceded them. Thechips afforded excellent fuel, burning with a fierce, steady glow, andmaking a fire something like that afforded by well-dried peat. Anothersource of fuel were the bones which lay in many places, scattered prettythickly. Sometimes these marked the spot where long before a party ofIndians had come upon a herd of buffalo, sometimes they were remains ofthe cattle of caravans which had preceded them; these were often quitefresh, the herds of coyotes stripping off the flesh of any animals thatfell by the way, and leaving nothing in the course of a day or two aftertheir death but the bare bones. Whenever the caravan came upon such askeleton upon the line of march, the men broke it up, and flung thebones into one of the waggons for the night's fire.
Sometimes, as they got well on in their journey, they came to patches ofsoap-weed, a vegetable of soft, pulpy nature, which grows to aconsiderable height, and dies from the bottom, retaining its greennessof appearance long after the stem has become brown and withered; itburns freely, with a brilliant flame. The women of the party rejoicedwhen a clump of soap-weed was discovered, and it was always the occasionof a general wash, as by immersing some of it in water it had all theproperties of soap, except that it did not make the lather whichdistinguishes the real article. But in places where the soap-weed wasnot to be found, and chips were scarce, the hunters did their best tosupply fuel, and would generally bring home large bundles of wood uponsuch of the horses as were not carrying game.
The children's greatest delight was when the camp happened to be pitchednear a prairie-dog town, and they were never weary of watching theantics of these funny little creatures. Some of these towns were ofconsiderable extent, the ground within their circle being quite bare ofherbage from their scratching, and the constant scampering of theirlittle feet, and covered thickly with the mounds which marked theentrances to the innumerable holes. The prairie-dogs themselves wereabout the size of rabbits, but seemed to Frank, from their quick,jerking motions, and their habit of sitting up on their hind-legs, toresemble squirrels more than any other animal. They were as muchinterested in the travellers as the latter were with them, almost everymound having its occupant sitting up watching them inquisitively. Therewere four or five dogs with the caravan, and until the novelty hadpassed off, and they became convinced of the utter futility of thechase, the dogs exhausted themselves in their endeavours to capture theprairie-dogs. These seemed to feel an absolute enjoyment in exasperatingthe dogs, sitting immovable until the latter were within a few yards ofthem, and then suddenly disappearing like a flash of lightning downtheir holes, popping their heads out again and resuming their positionon the tops as soon as the dogs had dashed off in another direction.
But the prairie-dogs were not the only occupants of the towns; withthem, apparently on terms of great friendship, lived a colony of littleowls, sharing their abodes, and sitting with them on their hillocks.There were also a third species of inhabitant, and the presence of thesecaused strict orders to be given to the children not to wander over theground; these were rattlesnakes, of which, on a sunny afternoon, manycould be seen basking on the sand-heaps.
"Yes, you always find the three together," Abe said, in answer toFrank's question, "and how such contrary things get to be friends ismore nor I can tell. Sartin they must eat each other, there ain'tanything else for 'em to eat. The prairie-dogs air a puzzle; you neversee 'em any distance beyond thar towns, and yet they must live on grassand roots. The owls, no doubt, live on little prairie-dogs, and therattlesnakes may sometimes eat an old one. Still, there it is; theynever seem afraid of each other, and no one, as far as I knows, has everseen a prairie dog fifty yards away from his town. The rummest thingabout them is as every town has got its well. The prairie-dogs have allgot their holes, and though you may see 'em going about popping in andout of each other's houses, I fancy as they always keep to their own.But there's one hole which they all use, and that goes down to thewater. No matter how deep it is, they takes it down; I fancy the wholelot digs at it by turns till they get there. You will see thar towns arealways on lowish ground, so that they can get down to water all thesooner; that's why they build up those mounds round each hole."
"I thought it was just the earth they had thrown out, Abe."
"So it is, partly; but it serves to keep the water out in the wet seasontoo. If you watch 'em you can see 'em building the earth up and pattingit down hard if it gets broken down. Sometimes, in very wet weather,thar will be a flood, and then the whole lot, dogs and owls and snakes,get drowned all together. Mighty nasty places they are
, I tell yer, whenthey are desarted. At other times you can see 'em plain enough, and canride through 'em at a gallop, for the horses are accustomed to pickthar way; but after a year or two, when the grass grows again, and isbreast high in summer, and you come across one of them, the first youknow about it is the horse puts his foot in a hole, and you are flyingthrough the air. Many a fall have I had from them darned little things."
"Are they good eating, Abe?"
"Yes, they ain't bad eating; and if you lie down quiet, and shootstraight, you ain't long in making a bag. But you have got to kill 'emto get 'em; if you don't put your bullet through thar head, they justchucks themselves straight down the hole, and it would take an hour'sdigging, and it may be more, to get at 'em."
"There seems to be a tremendous lot of rattlesnakes in some places,Abe."
"Thar are that, lad; I have seen places where you might kill a hundredin an hour with your Colt. Thar are two sorts, them as you finds on theplains and them as you finds among rocks; one are twice as big as theother, but thar ain't much difference in thar bite."
"Is it always fatal, Abe?"
"Not often, lad, either to man or horse, though I have known horses diewhen they have been bit in the head when they have been grazing. Thebest thing is to tie a bandage tightly above the place, and to clap on apoultice of fresh dung--that draws out the poison; and then, if you havegot it, drink half a bottle of spirits. It ain't often we get bit,because of these high boots; but the Injins get bit sometimes, and Inever heard of thar dying. The only thing as we are regular feered ofout in these plains is a little beast they call the hydrophobia cat."
"I never heard of that. What is it like, Abe?"
"It is a pretty little beast, marked black and white, and about the sizeof a big weasel. It has got a way of coming and biting you when you areasleep, and when it does it is sartin death; thar ain't no cure for it;the best plan is to put your Colt to your head and finish it at once."
"What horrible little beasts!" Frank said; "I hope they are not common."
"No, they ain't common, and there's more danger from them down south; ifyou sleeps in an old Mexican hut that's been deserted, or places of thatsort, it's best to look sharp round afore you goes to sleep."
The game most commonly met with were the black-tailed and white-taileddeer. These were generally met with in parties of from six to twelve,and were usually stalked, although sometimes, by dividing and taking awide circle, they could manage to ride them down and get within shot.This could seldom be done with the antelope, which ran in much largerherds, but were so suspicious and watchful that there was no gettingwithin shot, while, once in motion, they could leave the horses behindwith ease. The only way in which they could get them would be by actingupon their curiosity. One or two of the hunters would dismount, andcrawl through the grass until within three or four hundred yards of theherd; then they would lie on their backs and wave their legs in the air,or wave a coloured blanket, as they lay concealed in the grass. The herdwould stop grazing and look on curiously, and gradually approach nearerand nearer to investigate this strange phenomenon, until they came wellwithin shot, when the hunters would leap to their feet and send theirunerring bullets among them.
"You would hardly believe, now," Peter said, one day when he and Frankhad brought down two fine antelopes by this manoeuvre, "that thecoyotes are just as much up to that trick as we are. They haven't got achance with the deer when they are once moving, although sometimes theymay pick up a fawn a few days old, or a stag that has got injured; butwhen they want deer-meat they just act the same game as we have beendoing. Over and over again have I seen them at their tricks; two of themwill play them together. They will creep up through the grass till theycan get to a spot where the antelope can see them, and then they willjust act as if they were mad, rolling over on their backs, waving theirlegs about, twisting and rolling like balls, and playing the fool, tillthe antelope comes up to see what is the matter. They let them come ontill they are only a few yards away, and then they are on one like aflash, before he has time to turn and get up his speed. One will catchhim by a leg, and the other will get at his throat, and between themthey soon pull him down. They will sham dead too. Wonderful 'cutebeasts is them coyotes; they are just about the sharpest beasts aslive."
"Do they live entirely upon deer?"
"Bless you, no; they will eat anything. They hang about behind the greatbuffalo herds, and eat them as drops; where there are such tens ofthousands there is always some as is old or injured and can't keep up;besides, sometimes they get scared, and then they will run over a bluffand get piled up there dead by hundreds. The coyotes pick the bones ofevery beast as dies in the plains. The badgers helps them a bit; thereare lots of those about in some places."