CHAPTER XXI.
_Wolves attack the horses, and Cameron circumvents the wolves_--_Abear-hunt, in which Henri shines conspicuous_--_Joe and the"Natter-list_"--_An alarm_--_A surprise and a capture_.
We must now return to the camp where Walter Cameron still guarded thegoods, and the men pursued their trapping avocations.
Here seven of the horses had been killed in one night by wolves whilegrazing in a plain close to the camp, and on the night following ahorse that had strayed was also torn to pieces and devoured. Theprompt and daring manner in which this had been done convinced thetrader that white wolves had unfortunately scented them out, and heset several traps in the hope of capturing them.
White wolves are quite distinct from the ordinary wolves that prowlthrough woods and plains in large packs. They are much larger,weighing sometimes as much as a hundred and thirty pounds; but theyare comparatively scarce, and move about alone, or in small bands ofthree or four. Their strength is enormous, and they are so fierce thatthey do not hesitate, upon occasions, to attack man himself. Theirmethod of killing horses is very deliberate. Two wolves generallyundertake the cold-blooded murder. They approach their victim with themost innocent-looking and frolicsome gambols, lying down and rollingabout, and frisking presently, until the horse becomes a littleaccustomed to them. Then one approaches right in front, the otherin rear, still frisking playfully, until they think themselves nearenough, when they make a simultaneous rush. The wolf which approachesin rear is the true assailant; the rush of the other is a mere feint.Then both fasten on the poor horse's haunches, and never let go tillthe sinews are cut and he is rolling on his side.
The horse makes comparatively little struggle in this deadly assault;he seems paralyzed, and soon falls to rise no more.
Cameron set his traps towards evening in a circle with a bait in thecentre, and then retired to rest. Next morning he called Joe Blunt,and the two went off together.
"It is strange that these rascally white wolves should be so bold whenthe smaller kinds are so cowardly," remarked Cameron, as they walkedalong.
"So 'tis," replied Joe; "but I've seed them other chaps bold enoughtoo in the prairie when they were in large packs and starvin'."
"I believe the small wolves follow the big fellows, and help them toeat what they kill, though they generally sit round and look on at thekilling."
"Hist!" exclaimed Joe, cocking his gun; "there he is, an' no mistake."
There he was, undoubtedly. A wolf of the largest size with one of hisfeet in the trap. He was a terrible-looking object, for, besides hisimmense size and naturally ferocious aspect, his white hair bristledon end and was all covered with streaks and spots of blood from hisbloody jaws. In his efforts to escape he had bitten the trap until hehad broken his teeth and lacerated his gums, so that his appearancewas hideous in the extreme. And when the two men came up he struggledwith all his might to fly at them.
Cameron and Joe stood looking at him in a sort of wonderingadmiration.
"We'd better put a ball in him," suggested Joe after a time. "Mayhapthe chain won't stand sich tugs long."
"True, Joe; if it break, we might get an ugly nip before we killedhim."
So saying Cameron fired into the wolf's head and killed it. It wasfound, on examination, that four wolves had been in the traps, but therest had escaped. Two of them, however, had gnawed off their paws andleft them lying in the traps.
After this the big wolves did not trouble them again. The sameafternoon a bear-hunt was undertaken, which well-nigh cost one of theIroquois his life. It happened thus:--
While Cameron and Joe were away after the white wolves, Henri camefloundering into camp tossing his arms like a maniac, and shoutingthat "seven bars wos be down in de bush close by!" It chanced thatthis was an idle day with most of the men, so they all leaped on theirhorses, and taking guns and knives sallied forth to give battle to thebears.
Arrived at the scene of action, they found the seven bears busilyengaged in digging up roots, so the men separated in order to surroundthem, and then closed in. The place was partly open and partly coveredwith thick bushes into which a horseman could not penetrate.
The moment the bears got wind of what was going forward they made offas fast as possible, and then commenced a scene of firing, galloping,and yelling that defies description! Four out of the seven were shotbefore they gained the bushes; the other three were wounded, but madegood their retreat. As their places of shelter, however, were likeislands in the plain, they had no chance of escaping.
The horsemen now dismounted and dashed recklessly into the bushes,where they soon discovered and killed two of the bears; the third wasnot found for some time. At last an Iroquois came upon it so suddenlythat he had not time to point his gun before the bear sprang upon himand struck him to the earth, where it held him down.
Instantly the place was surrounded by eager men; but the bushes wereso thick, and the fallen trees among which the bear stood were sonumerous, that they could not use their guns without running the riskof shooting their companion. Most of them drew their knives and seemedabout to rush on the bear with these; but the monster's aspect, as itglared around, was so terrible that they held back for a moment inhesitation.
At this moment Henri, who had been at some distance engaged in thekilling of one of the other bears, came rushing forward after his ownpeculiar manner. "Ah! fat is eet--hay? de bar no go under yit?"
Just then his eye fell on the wounded Iroquois with the bear abovehim, and he uttered a yell so intense in tone that the bear himselfseemed to feel that something decisive was about to be done at last.Henri did not pause, but with a flying dash he sprang like a spreadeagle, arms and legs extended, right into the bear's bosom. At thesame moment he sent his long hunting-knife down into its heart. ButBruin is proverbially hard to kill, and although mortally wounded, hehad strength enough to open his jaws and close them on Henri's neck.
There was a cry of horror, and at the same moment a volley was firedat the bear's head; for the trappers felt that it was better to riskshooting their comrades than see them killed before their eyes.Fortunately the bullets took effect, and tumbled him over at oncewithout doing damage to either of the men, although several of theballs just grazed Henri's temple and carried off his cap.
Although uninjured by the shot, the poor Iroquois had not escapedscathless from the paw of the bear. His scalp was torn almost off, andhung down over his eyes, while blood streamed down his face. He wasconveyed by his comrades to the camp, where he lay two days in a stateof insensibility, at the end of which time he revived and recovereddaily. Afterwards when the camp moved he had to be carried; but inthe course of two months he was as well as ever, and quite as fond ofbear-hunting!
Among other trophies of this hunt there were two deer and a buffalo,which last had probably strayed from the herd. Four or five Iroquoiswere round this animal whetting their knives for the purpose ofcutting it up when Henri passed, so he turned aside to watch themperform the operation, quite regardless of the fact that his neckand face were covered with blood which flowed from one or two smallpunctures made by the bear.
The Indians began by taking off the skin, which certainly did notoccupy them more than five minutes. Then they cut up the meat and madea pack of it, and cut out the tongue, which is somewhat troublesome,as that member requires to be cut out from under the jaw of theanimal, and not through the natural opening of the mouth. One of thefore legs was cut off at the knee joint, and this was used as a hammerwith which to break the skull for the purpose of taking out thebrains, these being used in the process of dressing and softening theanimal's skin. An axe would have been of advantage to break the skull,but in the hurry of rushing to the attack the Indians had forgottentheir axes; so they adopted the common fashion of using the buffalo'shoof as a hammer, the shank being the handle. The whole operation offlaying, cutting up, and packing the meat did not occupy more thantwenty minutes. Before leaving the ground these expert butcherstreated themselves to a little of the
marrow and warm liver in a rawstate!
Cameron and Joe walked up to the group while they were indulging inthis little feast.
"Well, I've often seen that eaten, but I never could do it myself,"remarked the former. "No!" cried Joe in surprise; "now that's oncommoncur'us. I've _lived_ on raw liver an' marrow-bones for two or threedays at a time, when we wos chased by the Camanchee Injuns an' didn'tdare to make a fire; an' it's ra'al good, it is. Won't ye try it_now_?"
Cameron shook his head.
"No, thankee; I'll not refuse when I can't help it, but until thenI'll remain in happy ignorance of how good it is."
"Well, it _is_ strange how some folk can't abide anything in the meatway they ha'n't bin used to. D'ye know I've actually knowed men fromthe cities as wouldn't eat a bit o' horseflesh for love or money.Would ye believe it?"
"I can well believe that, Joe, for I have met with such personsmyself; in fact, they are rather numerous. What are you chuckling at,Joe?"
"Chucklin'? If ye mean be that 'larfin in to myself,' it's because I'mthinkin' o' a chap as once comed out to the prairies."
"Let us walk back to the camp, Joe, and you can tell me about him aswe go along."
"I think," continued Joe, "he comed from Washington, but I never couldmake out right whether he wos a Government man or not. Anyhow, he wosa pheelosopher--a natter-list I think he call his-self--"
"A naturalist," suggested Cameron.
"Ay, that wos more like it. Well, he wos about six feet two in hismoccasins, an' as thin as a ramrod, an' as blind as a bat--leastwayshe had weak eyes an' wore green spectacles. He had on a gray shootin'coat an' trousers an' vest an' cap, with rid whiskers an' a long noseas rid at the point as the whiskers wos."
"Well, this gentleman engaged me an' another hunter to go a trip withhim into the prairies, so off we sot one fine day on three hosses,with our blankets at our backs--we wos to depend on the rifle forvictuals. At first I thought the natter-list one o' the cruellestbeggars as iver went on two long legs, for he used to go abouteverywhere pokin' pins through all the beetles an' flies an' creepin'things he could sot eyes on, an' stuck them in a box. But he told mehe comed here a-purpose to git as many o' them as he could; so says I,'If that's it, I'll fill yer box in no time.'
"'Will ye?' says he, quite pleased like.
"'I will,' says I, an' galloped off to a place as was filled wi' allsorts o' crawlin' things. So I sets to work, an' whenever I seed athing crawlin' I sot my fut on it an' crushed it, an' soon filled mybreast pocket. I cotched a lot o' butterflies too, an' stuffed theminto my shot-pouch, an' went back in an hour or two an' showed him thelot. He put on his green spectacles an' looked at them as if he'd seena rattlesnake.
"'My good man,' says he, 'you've crushed them all to pieces!'
"'They'll taste as good for all that,' says I; for somehow I'd taken'tin me head that he'd heard o' the way the Injuns make soup o' thegrasshoppers, an' wos wantin' to try his hand at a new dish!
"He laughed when I said this, an' told me he wos collectin' them totake home to be _looked_ at. But that's not wot I was goin' to tell yeabout him," continued Joe; "I wos goin' to tell ye how we made him eathorseflesh. He carried a revolver, too, this natter-list did, to loadwi' shot as small as dust a'most, an' shoot little birds with. I'veseed him miss birds only three feet away with it. An' one day he drewit all of a suddent an' let fly at a big bum-bee that wos passin',yellin' out that it wos the finest wot he had iver seed. He missed thebee, of coorse, 'cause it wos a flyin' shot, he said, but he sent thewhole charge right into Martin's back--Martin was my comrade's name.By good luck Martin had on a thick leather coat, so the shot niver gotthe length o' his skin."
"One day I noticed that the natter-list had stuffed small corks intothe muzzles of all the six barrels of his revolver. I wondered whatthey wos for, but he wos al'ays doin' sich queer things that Isoon forgot it. 'Maybe,' thought I, jist before it went out o' mymind--'maybe he thinks that'll stop the pistol from goin' off byaccident;' for ye must know he'd let it off three times the first dayby accident, an' well-nigh blowed off his leg the last time, onlythe shot lodged in the back o' a big toad he'd jist stuffed into hisbreeches pocket. Well, soon after we shot a buffalo bull, so when itfell, off he jumps from his horse an' runs up to it. So did I, for Iwasn't sure the beast was dead, an' I had jist got up when it rose an'rushed at the natter-list.
"'Out o' the way,' I yelled, for my rifle was empty; but he didn'tmove, so I rushed for'ard an' drew the pistol out o' his belt and letfly in the bull's ribs jist as it ran the poor man down. Martin cameup that moment an' put a ball through its heart, an' then we went topick up the natter-list. He came to in a little, an' the first thinghe said was, 'Where's my revolver?' When I gave it to him he lookedat it, an' said with a solemcholy shake o' the head, 'There's a wholebarrel-full lost!' It turned out that he had taken to usin' thebarrels for bottles to hold things in, but he forgot to draw thecharges, so sure enough I had fired a charge o' bum-bees an' beetlesan' small shot into the buffalo!
"But that's not what I wos goin' to tell ye yit. We corned to a parto' the plains where we wos well-nigh starved for want o' game, an' thenatter-list got so thin that ye could a'most see through him, so Ioffered to kill my horse, an' cut it up for meat; but you niver sawsich a face he made. 'I'd rather die first,' says he, 'than eat it;'so we didn't kill it. But that very day Martin got a shot at a wildhorse an' killed it. The natter-list was down in the bed o' a creek atthe time gropin' for creepers, an' he didn't see it.
"'He'll niver eat it,' says Martin.
"'That's true,' says I.
"'Let's tell him it's a buffalo,' says he.
"'That would be tellin' a lie,' says I.
"So we stood lookin' at each other, not knowin' what to do.
"'I'll tell ye what,' cries Martin; 'we'll cut it up, and take themeat into camp an' cook it without _sayin' a word_.'
"'Done,' says I, 'that's it;' for ye must know the poor critter wos nojudge o' meat. He couldn't tell one kind from another, an' he niveraxed questions. In fact he niver a'most spoke to us all the trip.Well, we cut up the horse, an' carried the flesh an' marrowbones intocamp, takin' care to leave the hoofs an' skin behind, an' sot to workan' roasted steaks an' marrowbones."
"When the natter-list came back ye should ha' seen the joyful face heput on when he smelt the grub, for he was all but starved out, poorcritter."
"'What have we got here?' cried he, rubbin' his hands an' sittin'down."
"'Steaks an' marrow-bones,' says Martin."
"'Capital!' says he. 'I'm _so_ hungry.'"
"So he fell to work like a wolf. I niver seed a man pitch intoanything like as that natter-list did into that horseflesh."
"'These are first-rate marrow-bones,' says he, squintin' with one eyedown the shin-bone o' the hind leg to see if it was quite empty."
"'Yes, sir, they is,' answered Martin, as grave as a judge."
"'Take another, sir,' says I."
"'No, thankee,' says he with a sigh, for he didn't like to leave off."
"Well, we lived for a week on horseflesh, an' first-rate livin' itwos; then we fell in with buffalo, an' niver ran short again till wegot to the settlements, when he paid us our money an' shook hands,sayin' we'd had a nice trip, an' he wished us well. Jist as we wospartin' I said, says I, 'D'ye know what it wos we lived on for a weekarter we wos well-nigh starved in the prairies?'"
"'What,' says he, 'when we got yon capital marrowbones?'"
"'The same,' says I. 'Yon wos _horse_ flesh,' says I; 'an' I thinkye'll surely niver say again that it isn't first-rate livin'.'"
"'Ye're jokin',' says he, turnin' pale."
"'It's true, sir; as true as ye're standin' there.'"
"Well, would ye believe it, he turned--that natter-list did--as sickas a dog on the spot wot he wos standin' on, an' didn't taste meatagain for three days!"
Shortly after the conclusion of Joe's story they reached the camp,and here they found the women and children flying about in a state ofter
ror, and the few men who had been left in charge arming themselvesin the greatest haste.
"Hallo! something wrong here," cried Cameron, hastening forward,followed by Joe. "What has happened, eh?"
"Injuns comin', monsieur; look dere," answered a trapper, pointingdown the valley.
"Arm and mount at once, and come to the front of the camp," criedCameron in a tone of voice that silenced every other, and turnedconfusion into order.
The cause of all this outcry was a cloud of dust seen far down thevalley, which was raised by a band of mounted Indians who approachedthe camp at full speed. Their numbers could not be made out, but theywere a sufficiently formidable band to cause much anxiety toCameron, whose men, at the time, were scattered to the varioustrapping-grounds, and only ten chanced to be within call of the camp.However, with these ten he determined to show a bold front to thesavages, whether they came as friends or foes. He therefore orderedthe women and children within the citadel formed of the goods andpacks of furs piled upon each other, which point of retreat was tobe defended to the last extremity. Then galloping to the front hecollected his men and swept down the valley at full speed. In a fewminutes they were near enough to observe that the enemy only numberedfour Indians, who were driving a band of about a hundred horses beforethem, and so busy were they in keeping the troop together that Cameronand his men were close upon them before they were observed.
It was too late to escape. Joe Blunt and Henri had already swept roundand cut off their retreat. In this extremity the Indians slipped fromthe backs of their steeds and darted into the bushes, where they weresafe from pursuit, at least on horseback, while the trappers gotbehind the horses and drove them towards the camp.
At this moment one of the horses sprang ahead of the others and madefor the mountain, with its mane and tail flying wildly in the breeze.
"Marrow-bones and buttons!" shouted one of the men, "there goes DickVarley's horse."
"So it am!" cried Henri, and dashed off in pursuit, followed by Joeand two others.
"Why, these are our own horses," said Cameron in surprise, as theydrove them into a corner of the hills from which they could notescape.
This was true, but it was only half the truth, for, besides their ownhorses, they had secured upwards of seventy Indian steeds; a mostacceptable addition to their stud, which, owing to casualties andwolves, had been diminishing too much of late. The fact was that theIndians who had captured the horses belonging to Pierre and his partywere a small band of robbers who had travelled, as was afterwardslearned, a considerable distance from the south, stealing horses fromvarious tribes as they went along. As we have seen, in an evil hourthey fell in with Pierre's party and carried off their steeds, whichthey drove to a pass leading from one valley to the other. Here theyunited them with the main band of their ill-gotten gains, and whilethe greater number of the robbers descended farther into the plains insearch of more booty, four of them were sent into the mountains withthe horses already procured. These four, utterly ignorant of thepresence of white men in the valley, drove their charge, as we haveseen, almost into the camp.
Cameron immediately organized a party to go out in search of Pierreand his companions, about whose fate he became intensely anxious,and in the course of half-an-hour as many men as he could spare withsafety were despatched in the direction of the Blue Mountains.