CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
CHARLIE'S ADVENTURES WITH SAVAGES AND BEARS--TRAPPING LIFE.
It is one thing to chase a horse; it is another thing to catch it.Little consideration and less sagacity is required to convince us of thetruth of that fact.
The reader may perhaps venture to think this rather a trifling fact. Weare not so sure of that. In this world of fancies, to have _any_ factincontestably proved and established is a comfort, and whatever is asource of comfort to mankind is worthy of notice. Surely our readerwon't deny that! Perhaps he will, so we can only console ourself withthe remark that there are people in this world who would deny_anything_--who would deny that there was a nose on their face if yousaid there was!
Well, to return to the point, which was the chase of a horse in theabstract; from which we will rapidly diverge to the chase of DickVarley's horse in particular. This noble charger, having been ridden bysavages until all his old fire, and blood, and metal were worked up to ared heat, no sooner discovered that he was pursued than he gave a snortof defiance, which he accompanied with a frantic shake of his mane, anda fling of contempt in addition to a magnificent wave of his tail; thenhe thundered up the valley at a pace which would speedily have left JoeBlunt and Henri out of sight behind if--ay! that's the word, _if_! whata word that _if_ is! what a world of if's we live in! There never wasanything that wouldn't have been something else _if_ something hadn'tintervened to prevent it! Yes, we repeat, Charlie would have left histwo friends miles and miles behind in what is called "no time," _if_ hehad not run straight into a gorge which was surrounded by inaccessibleprecipices, and out of which there was no exit except by the entrance,which was immediately barred by Henri, while Joe advanced to catch therunaway.
For two hours at least did Joe Blunt essay to catch Charlie, and duringthat space of time he utterly failed. The horse seemed to have made uphis mind for what is vulgarly termed "a lark."
"It won't do, Henri," said Joe, advancing towards his companion, andwiping his forehead with the cuff of his leathern coat. "I can't catchhim. The wind's a-most blowed out o' me body."
"Dat am vexatiable," replied Henri, in a tone of commiseration. "S'poseI wos make try?"
"In that case I s'pose ye would fail. But go ahead an' do what ye can.I'll hold yer horse."
So Henri began by a rush and a flourish of legs and arms that nearlyfrightened the horse out his wits. For half an hour he went through allthe complications of running and twisting of which he was capable,without success, when Joe Blunt suddenly uttered a stentorian yell thatrooted him to the spot on which he stood.
To account for this, we must explain that in the heights of the RockyMountains vast accumulations of snow take place among the crevices andgorges during winter. Such of these masses as form on steep slopes areloosened by occasional thaws, and are precipitated in the form ofavalanches into the valleys below, carrying trees and stones along withthem in their thundering descent. In the gloomy gorge where Dick'shorse had taken refuge, the precipices were so steep that manyavalanches had occurred, as was evident from the mounds of heaped snowthat lay at the foot of most of them. Neither stones nor trees werecarried down here, however, for the cliffs were nearly perpendicular,and the snow slipping over their edges had fallen on the grass below.Such an avalanche was now about to take place, and it was this thatcaused Joe to utter his cry of alarm and warning.
Henri and the horse were directly under the cliff over which it wasabout to be hurled, the latter close to the wall of rock, the other atsome distance away from it.
Joe cried again, "Back, Henri! back _vite_!" when the mass _flowed over_and fell with a roar like prolonged thunder. Henri sprang back in timeto save his life, though he was knocked down and almost stunned, butpoor Charlie was completely buried under the avalanche, which nowpresented the appearance of a _hill_ of snow.
The instant Henri recovered sufficiently, Joe and he mounted theirhorses and galloped back to the camp as fast as possible.
Meanwhile, another spectator stepped forward upon the scene they hadleft, and surveyed the snow hill with a critical eye. This was no lessthan a grizzly bear which had, unobserved, been a spectator, and whichimmediately proceeded to dig into the mound with the purpose, no doubt,of disentombing the carcase of the horse for purposes of his own.
While he was thus actively engaged, the two hunters reached the campwhere they found that Pierre and his party had just arrived. The mensent out in search of them had scarcely advanced a mile when they foundthem trudging back to the camp in a very disconsolate manner. But alltheir sorrows were put to flight on hearing of the curious way in whichthe horses had been returned to them with interest.
Scarcely had Dick Varley, however, congratulated himself on the recoveryof his gallant steed, when he was thrown into despair by the suddenarrival of Joe with the tidings of the catastrophe we have just related.
Of course there was a general rush to the rescue. Only a few men wereordered to remain to guard the camp, while the remainder mounted theirhorses and galloped towards the gorge where Charlie had been entombed.On arriving, they found that Bruin had worked with such laudable zealthat nothing but the tip of his tail was seen sticking out of the holewhich he had dug. The hunters could not refrain from laughing as theysprang to the ground, and standing in a semicircle in front of the hole,prepared to fire. But Crusoe resolved to have the honour of leading theassault. He seized fast hold of Bruin's flank, and caused his teeth tomeet therein. Caleb backed out at once and turned round, but before hecould recover from his surprise a dozen bullets pierced his heart andbrain.
"Now, lads," cried Cameron, setting to work with a large wooden shovel,"work like niggers. If there's any life left in the horse it'll soon besmothered out unless we set him free."
The men needed no urging, however. They worked as if their livesdepended on their exertions. Dick Varley, in particular, laboured likea young Hercules, and Henri hurled masses of snow about in a mostsurprising manner. Crusoe, too, entered heartily into the spirit of thework, and, scraping with his forepaws, sent such a continuous shower ofsnow behind him that he was speedily lost to view in a hole of his ownexcavating. In the course of half an hour a cavern was dug in the moundalmost close up to the cliff, and the men were beginning to look aboutfor the crushed body of Dick's steed, when an exclamation from Henriattracted their attention.
"Ha! mes ami, here am be one hole."
The truth of this could not be doubted, for the eccentric trapper hadthrust his shovel through the wall of snow into what appeared to be acavern beyond, and immediately followed up his remark by thrusting inhis head and shoulders. He drew them out in a few seconds, with a lookof intense amazement.
"Voila! Joe Blunt. Look in dere, and you shall see fat you willbehold."
"Why, it's the horse, I do b'lieve!" cried Joe. "Go ahead, lads."
So saying, he resumed his shovelling vigorously, and in a few minutesthe hole was opened up sufficiently to enable a man to enter. Dicksprang in, and there stood Charlie close beside the cliff, looking assedate and unconcerned as if all that had been going on had no referenceto him whatever.
The cause of his safety was simple enough. The precipice beside whichhe stood when the avalanche occurred overhung its base at that pointconsiderably, so that when the snow descended, a clear space of severalfeet wide was left all along its base. Here Charlie had remained inperfect comfort until his friends dug him out.
Congratulating themselves not a little on having saved the charger andbagged a grizzly bear, the trappers remounted, and returned to the camp.
For some time after this nothing worthy of particular note occurred.The trapping operations went on prosperously and without interruptionfrom the Indians, who seemed to have left the locality altogether.During this period, Dick, and Crusoe, and Charlie had many excursionstogether, and the silver rifle full many a time sent death to the heartof bear, and elk, and buffalo, while, indirectly, it sent joy to theheart of man, woman, and ch
ild in camp, in the shape of juicy steaks andmarrow-bones. Joe and Henri devoted themselves almost exclusively totrapping beaver, in which pursuit they were so successful that theyspeedily became wealthy men, according to backwood notions of wealth.With the beaver that they caught, they purchased from Cameron's storepowder and shot enough for a long hunting expedition and a couple ofspare horses to carry their packs. They also purchased a largeassortment of such goods and trinkets as would prove acceptable toIndians, and supplied themselves with new blankets, and a few pairs ofstrong moccasins, of which they stood much in need.
Thus they went on from day to day, until symptoms of the approach ofwinter warned them that it was time to return to the Mustang Valley.About this time an event occurred which totally changed the aspect ofaffairs in these remote valleys of the Rocky Mountains, and precipitatedthe departure of our four friends, Dick, Joe, Henri, and Crusoe. Thiswas the sudden arrival of a whole tribe of Indians. As their advent wassomewhat remarkable, we shall devote to it the commencement of a newchapter.