CHAPTER VII.
The Trapper's Reminiscence.
The horses did not stop on the bank, but, in spite of the desperateefforts of the boys, kept on, until the water reached half way totheir backs. The old buffalo hunter, not satisfied with this,persisted in lying down; and Archie and the antelope were deposited inthe middle of the stream. Under any other circumstances, the younghunter would have been angry; but, as it was, the cool bath was mostrefreshing after his long ride over the dry prairie, under the hot,scorching sun; so seizing the antelope, he dragged him to the shore,leaving his horse to take care of himself.
Thirsty as the boys were, they still retained their presence of mind;instead of endangering his life by drinking freely of the water,Archie contented himself with repeatedly bathing his head, whileFrank, who was still in his saddle, reached down and scooped up a fewdrops in his hand.
"I say, Frank, isn't this glorious?" said Archie at length, as hedivested himself of his coat, which he hung upon a limb to dry. "Butit's lucky that my ammunition is water-proof. If you had been in myfix, you wouldn't be able to do much more shooting until we got backto our wagon. I declare, it's getting dark. Where do you suppose thatwagon is? If we don't find it inside of fifteen minutes, we shall haveto camp."
"Let's stay here," said Frank, as he rode his horse out of the water,and fastened him to a tree. "We must stay somewhere all night, andthis is as good a camping-ground as we can find."
"If Dick or Bob was here," said Archie, "I wouldn't mind it; but Idon't like the idea of our staying here alone. This is the worstscrape I was ever in; but if I once get along-side of that wagonagain, I'll stay there."
"Oh, you've been in worse scrapes than this," said Frank, who saw thathis cousin was losing heart again.
"I'd like to know when and where?" said Archie, looking up inastonishment.
"Why, you were in a much more dangerous situation while you werehanging by that limb, fifty feet from the ground, when you were afterthat 'coon that led you such a long chase."
"I can't see it," replied Archie. "I knew that if I got down safe, Iwould be among friends, and if I had to camp in the woods there wouldbe no Comanches or grizzly bears waiting for a chance to jump down onme. I say, Frank, there _may_ be grizzly bears about here," and Archiepeered through the trees, reaching rather hurriedly for his gun, as iffully expecting to see one of those ferocious animals advancing uponhim. "But what are you about?" he continued, as he saw Frank removingthe saddle from his horse.
"I'm getting ready to camp," replied Frank, coolly.
Archie at first strongly objected to this, but Frank finally carriedthe day, by assuring him that it was the much better plan to "takematters easy," and wait for daylight, when they would again set out.Besides, if they traveled in the dark, they might go miles out oftheir way. Archie, although not convinced, finally agreed to hiscousin's proposition, remarking:
"If you were in the fourth story of a burning house, I wonder if youwouldn't talk of taking matters easy?"
It was settled then that they should remain where they were for thenight, and they began to make preparations accordingly. Archie's horsewas relieved of the saddle, and, after both the animals had been ledon to the prairie, they were hobbled and left to graze. Frank thenbegan to skin and dress the buck, while Archie gathered a supply ofwood, and kindled a fire. In half an hour several slices of venisonwere broiling on the coals, and the boys were lying before the fire,talking over the events of the day, and wondering what Dick and Bobwould say when they learned that their "youngsters" had killed anantelope, when they were startled by a well-known bark, and the nextmoment Useless came bounding through the trees into the very center ofthe camp, where he frisked and jumped about with every demonstrationof joy. The boys had scarcely recovered from their alarm, when theyheard a familiar voice exclaim:
"Bar an' buffaler! You keerless fellers!" and the trapper camethrough the willows with long, impatient strides.
The boys were always glad to see Dick, but words are too feeble toexpress the joy they felt at his sudden and wholly unexpectedappearance. For a moment they seemed to have lost the power of speech.
The trapper glanced hastily from one to the other, took in at a glancethe preparations for the night, and, dropping the butt of his rifleheavily to the ground, again ejaculated:
"You keerless fellers!"
"What's the matter, Dick?" asked Archie, whose spirits were now asexalted as they had before been depressed. "We're all right. Sit downand have some supper."
"Youngsters," said the trapper, seating himself on the ground, anddepositing his rifle beside him, "I jest knowed I would find you allright. Now, tell me whar have you been, an' what a doin'?"
"Do you see that?" exclaimed Archie, jumping up and pointing to theremains of the antelope, which Frank had hung up on a tree. "Do yousee it? You said we couldn't kill a prong-horn, but we've done it."
The boys then proceeded to recount their adventures, telling thetrapper how they had killed the antelope, of their long ride under thescorching sun, and how at last their horses had brought them to thewater--to all of which the trapper listened with amazement, andfeelings of admiration that he could not disguise.
"Wal," said he, when they had concluded, "I won't tell you to try itover ag'in, 'cause you can't allers be so lucky."
"What did uncle say?" inquired Archie, who was rather apprehensive ofa "lecture."
"Oh, he knowed as how thar war no Injuns to massacre you, an' when wecamped fur noon, I heered him say, 'I wonder what the boys have gotfur dinner?' I knowed me and Useless could easy find you. That ar dogknowed jest as well that I war arter you as I did myself."
"Well," said Frank, "whenever you get ready, we'll go back to thecamp."
"To camp!" repeated the trapper. "Haint you rid fur enough yet? Canyou stand twenty miles more to-night?"
"Twenty miles!" echoed both the boys, in surprise.
"Sartin! You're further away from the ole bar's hole now than you werelast night."
The young hunters were astonished. Although they had had the RockyMountains for a guidepost, they had been completely turned round, andhad actually traveled ten miles back toward St. Joseph.
"That's what comes of not knowin' nothin' 'bout the prairy!" continuedthe trapper, helping himself to a piece of the venison. "But we'llstay here to-night, an' strike fur camp in the mornin'."
The boys were very well satisfied with this arrangement, for theirlong ride had wearied them, and Archie was willing to brave grizzlybears, so long as he was in Dick's company.
After supper--which consisted of venison, without bread or coffee--thetrapper lighted his pipe with a brand from the fire, and, settlingback on his elbow, said:
"I've seed the time, youngsters, when it wouldn't a been healthy furyou two fellers to be out here alone. I've seed that prairy a'mostblack with Comanches, an' have heered 'em yellin' among these ere verywillows. If you had been settin' whar you are now 'bout fifteen yearago, you would have seed me goin' through these trees, an' swimmin'that ar creek, with a hul tribe of yellin' an' screechin' red-skinsclost to my heels. I showed your uncle, this mornin', the very placewhar I onct run the gauntlet of more'n a hundred Comanches. I tellyou, youngsters, I know every foot of this ground. Many a time me an'poor ole Bill Lawson have skrimmaged with the Injuns through here,when it war more'n a feller's har war wuth to come to this creek artera drink o' water. But I told you 'bout runnin' the gauntlet. The wayit happened war this:
"'Bout fifteen year ago, me an' ole Bill Lawson war trappin' among themountains, twenty-five miles from the ole bar's hole. We, in course,had fine sport, 'cause me an' ole Bill allers knowed whar to go tofind the best trappin' grounds; an', by the time spring opened, we hadas much spelter as we could tote away on our backs. It war gettin'purty nigh time fur the Comanches to come round on their spring hunt,an' we began to talk of leavin'; but thar war plenty of beaver left inthe valley, an' we didn't like to go so long as thar war any game totrap, so we kept puttin' it off,
an' when at last we did start, itwar too late to get off with our plunder.
"One mornin', jest at daylight, while I war in front of the shanteecookin' my breakfast, ole Bill come in from 'tendin' to his traps, an'said:
"'Dick, the valley's chuck full o' red-skins. I jest seed more signdown by the creek than I ever seed afore 'bout this place, an' that'ssayin' a good deal. We had better shoulder our spelter an' be off toonct.'
"I didn't stop to think any more 'bout breakfast jest then, but I raninto the shantee, grabbed my furs, which I allers kept tied up readyfor a move, an' me an' ole Bill started out. The Injuns must have comein durin' the night, 'cause the day afore thar warn't a bit of sign tobe seed fur ten miles 'round the valley. But we didn't stop then tothink how or when they got in, but how should we get out. It warn't noeasy thing to do, youngsters--to go through them mountains, swarmin'with red-skins. They don't walk through the woods like a feller doeswhen he's squirrel huntin', but they go sneakin' round, an' listenin',an' peepin'; an' if a chap don't understand their natur, he'd betternot go among 'em.
"Wal, ole Bill led the way, sometimes a'most on his knees, his riflein his hand, an' his bundle of furs on his shoulder, I followin' clostat his heels--both of us keepin' our eyes open, an' stoppin' now an'then to listen. We had made 'bout a mile up the mountain in this way,when, all to onct, ole Bill stopped and looked straight before him. Istopped, too, an' seed three big Comanches comin' along easy like,lookin' at the ground, examinin' the bushes, an' whisperin' to eachother. They had found a trail that either me or ole Bill had made theday afore, an' war tryin' to foller it up. But me an' the ole manwarn't the ones to leave a path that could be follered easy when wethought thar war red-skins 'round; an' I guess it bothered themrascals some to tell which way we had gone, an' how many thar war ofus. But they did foller it up slowly, an' while we war lookin' at 'emthey were jined by another Injun, who seemed to be a chief, for hewhispered a few orders, an' two of the Comanches made off. They hadbeen sent to rouse the camp, an' we knowed that we couldn't get awayfrom that valley any too fast. The red-skins warn't more'n a hundredyards from us, an' we knowed it would take mighty keerful movin' toget away from them without bein' diskivered. But it war life or deathwith us, an' we began to crawl slowly through the bushes. A greenhorncouldn't have heered a leaf rustle if he hadn't been two foot from us;but thar's a heap of difference atween a greenhorn's ears an' themthat a Injun carries. But they didn't hear us, fur as long as we warin sight we seed them still follerin' up the ole trail; an' as soon aswe thought we had got out of hearin' of them, we jumped to our feetan' run like a pair of quarter hosses. We didn't make no more noisethan we could help, but we hadn't gone fur afore the mountains echoedwith the war-whoop, an' a couple of arrers whizzed by our heads. TheInjuns had diskivered us. In course, we both dropped like a flash oflightnin', an', while I war lookin' round to find the varlets, oleBill struck out his hand, sayin':
"'This is a bad scrape, Dick, an' mebbe me an' you have done our lasttrappin' together. But we musn't get ketched if we can help it, 'causewe couldn't look fur nothin' but the stake.'
"While the ole man war speakin', I seed one of the rascals that hadshot at us peepin' out from behind a log. He didn't show more'n twoinches of his head, but that war enough, an' I reckon that red-skinlay thar till his friends toted him off. Jest the minit I fired, oleBill throwed down his furs, jumped to his feet, an' run, an' I donethe same, although I did hate to leave that spelter that I had workedso hard fur all winter. But, in course, thar war no help fur it. Tharwar plenty more beaver in the mountains, an', if I got safe off, Iknowed whar to go to find 'em; but if I lost my scalp, I couldn't getanother. So, as I war sayin', I put arter the ole man, an' jest then Iheered something 'sides a arrer sing by my head. It war a bullet, an'the chap that sent it warn't sich a bad shot neither; fur, if I hadthe ole 'coon-skin cap I wore then, I could show you whar a piece ofit war cut out. I didn't stop to look fur the feller, howsomever, butkept on arter ole Bill, loadin' my rifle as I ran. The woods war sothick we couldn't keep clost together, an' I soon lost sight of him;but that didn't skeer me, fur I knowed he could take keer of his ownbacon. As fur myself, I never yet seed the Injun, or white man either,that could ketch me, if I onct got a leetle start of him; an' if allthe Injuns in the mountains war _behind_ me, I could laugh at 'em. Butthar war some in front of me, as I found out afore I had gone fur. Ihad jest got my rifle loaded, an' war settlin' down to my work--makin'purty good time, I reckon, the Injuns behind me yellin' an' hootin'all the while--when, all to onct, up jumped about a dozen more of therascals.
"I didn't stop to ax no questions, but sent the nighest of 'em down ina hurry; but in a minit arterward I war down, too; an' when I warpulled to my pins ag'in, I war a pris'ner, my hands bein' bound behindme with hickory bark. It warn't a pleasant sight I seed, youngsters,as I stood thar, lookin' at them scowlin' Injuns. At that day thar warfew of them Comanches that didn't know me an' ole Bill, an' when theyseed who I war, they all set up a yell, an' began dancin' 'round melike mad, shakin' their tomahawks, an' pintin' their rifles an' arrersat me; an' one feller ketched me by the har, an' passed his knife'round my head, as though he had half a notion to scalp me to onct.They kept goin' on in this way until all the Injuns in that part ofthe woods had come up to see what the fuss war 'bout; an' they, too,had to go through the same motions. All to onct they happened to thinkof ole Bill. The chief set up a shout, an' all but four of the Injunsput off on his trail. It showed me, plain enough, that the rascals warafraid of me, when they left so many to guard me. But no four of themComanches would have stopped me from gettin' away if I could have gotmy hands free. I tell you, I done my best, makin' that tough hickorybark crack an' snap, but it war no go--I war fast. As soon as theothers war out of sight, one big feller ketched me by the har, an'begun to pull me t'wards the camp.
"He didn't help me along very easy, but dragged me over logs an'through bushes, as if he meant to pull my head off, while the otherfellers, findin' nothin' else to do, follered behind with switches,that cut through my old huntin'-shirt like a knife. At last, arterthey had got me purty well thrashed, we reached the camp, which warjest at the foot of the mountains--I'll show you the place in themornin'--an' here they stood me up ag'in a post. Then I ketched itfrom every body--men, women, an' young ones. The most of the braveswar still out arter the old man, an' I could easy tell by the way theywhooped an' yelled that they hadn't ketched him. I knowed theywouldn't get him, neither, unless they surrounded him like they didme.
"Wal, arter tormentin' me fur a long time, an' findin' that I didn'tkeer fur 'em, the Injuns finally let me alone; an' one ole dried-upsquaw brought me a piece of buffaler meat. They wouldn't untie myhands, but that ole woman sot thar on the ground, an' fed me like Iwar a baby. I eat a heap of that meat, 'cause I war hungry, an' if Igot a chance to have a race with the varlets, I didn't want to run onan empty stomach; 'sides I might have to go without eatin' fur two orthree days afore I could find ole Bill. Jest afore dark the bravesbegan to come in, one arter the other. They hadn't ketched the oleman, an' I could see, by the way they scowled at me, that I would haveto stand punishment for his deeds, an' my own into the bargain. Icould have yelled, when I knowed the old feller war safe, an' I madeup my mind that if the Injuns would only give me half a chance, I'dsoon be with him ag'in.
"Wal, when the chiefs come in, I war tied fast to the post, and leftthar. They didn't try to skeer me any more, 'cause they seed it war nouse, an' 'sides, they wanted to save all their spite fur the mornin',fur it war too late to begin bisness that night. I war fast enough--asfast as if I had been wrapped up in chains--but them Injuns war afraidto trust me. They actooally kept half a dozen of their braves watchin'me, from the time it began to grow dark till daylight the nextmornin'. I didn't sleep very easy, fur I war standin' ag'in that post,an' the bark they had tied me with war drawed so tight that it cutinto my arms; but I made out to git a nap or two, an' when mornin'come, an' I had eat another big chunk of that buffaler meat, I warready
fur 'em to begin.
"As soon as the sun war up, the chief called a council. It didn't take'em long to say what should be done with me, fur sooner than I hadthought fur, one of the chiefs set up a yelp, which war answered bythe hul tribe, an' men, women, an' children began formin' themselvesinto two lines, with whips, clubs, tomahawks, or whatever else theycould ketch hold of; an' two fellers come up to set me free. I war torun the gauntlet. I tell you, youngsters, if thar is any thing thatwill make the har rise on a feller's head, it is fur him to stand an'look atween two lines sich as I saw that mornin'. It warn't the fusttime I had been in jest sich scrapes, an' I knowed, too, that theInjuns didn't mean to kill me then--they wanted to save me for thestake--but somehow I couldn't help feelin' shaky. I didn't let theInjuns see it, howsomever, but tightened my belt, stretched my arms,an', 'walkin' out in front of the lines, waited fur the word to start.The head of the line war t'wards the camp, an' at the foot, which wart'wards this creek, stood five or six big fellers, waitin' to ketch mewhen I come out.
"Wal, it didn't take me long to see how the land lay, an' when thechief yelled to let me know that the time had come, I started. The wayI traveled through 'em lines war a thing fur 'em Comanches to look at.I got plenty of clips as I passed, but this war the only one that hurtme."
As the trapper spoke, he bared his brawny shoulder, and showed theboys a long, ragged scar. The wound must have been a most severe one.
"That one," continued Dick, "war made by a tomahawk. It didn't hindermy runnin', howsomever, an' I warn't half a minit comin' to the end of'em lines. But when I got thar I didn't stop. The Injuns that warwaitin' thar, tried to ketch me, but I passed them like a streak oflightnin', an' drawed a bee-line fur this ere creek. In course thehul camp war arter me to onct; but I knowed that I war safe, fur allthe Injuns war behind me, an' I wouldn't have been afraid to run arace with a hoss. I didn't do as well as I had done afore, nor nigh aswell as I could do now, fur I war stiff an' lame from bein' tied up solong; but I run plenty fast enough to git away. As I told you, I runthrough these willows, swam the creek--which war wide an' deep then,on 'count of the snow an' ice meltin'--then tuk to the mountains, an'started to make a circle round to the ole bar's hole. I traveled inevery little stream I could find; walked on logs, an' on the secondday, found ole Bill. The ole feller had been mighty down-hearted sinceI war ketched--fur the yells of the Injuns plainly told him what hadbecome of me--an' had never expected to take me by the hand ag'in.But, when he seed me safe an' sound, he sot right down on the groundan' cried like a child.
"Wal, we lay 'round the ole bar's hole till the Injuns had gone, an'then set out fur the fort. We war on foot, an' had but one rifleatween us, but we got through all right, an' in less'n a month, war onour way to the mountains ag'in."