CHAPTER XIII
JOE, ROB, AND THE OLD TRAPPER--GENERAL CUSTER ARRIVES AT THE RENDEZVOUS--THE WOLF DENS--FIRST TUSSLE BETWEEN THE HOUNDS AND A WOLF--CINCH'S GREAT BATTLE
THE morning of the wolf hunt came at last. Before six o'clock, Mr.Tucker, four near neighbors, and the two Thompson boys rode out fromErrolstrath toward the appointed rendezvous, at the mouth of the Oxhide.
As all dogs work better on an empty stomach, the hounds, Brutus andBluey, had not been fed that morning, so that their appetites for thechase should be keen.
The little party from the ranche arrived at the mouth of the Oxhidebefore the contingent from Fort Harker. They did not have to wait manyminutes, for they soon saw a cloud of dust on the Smoky Hill trail, andpresently the General's four great hounds came bounding along. Closelyfollowing them was Custer on a magnificent animal. Colonel Keogh rodehis favorite horse, Comanche, which had been wounded in the battle withthe Cheyennes, on Mulberry Creek, when the command had a doubtfulvictory under General Sully. Comanche was destined to become morecelebrated a few years later, when he and a single Crow Indian were thesole survivors of the unequal fight with the Sioux under the notoriousSitting Bull. It was there that Custer and all of the famous trooperswith him went down to annihilation, in the valley of the Rosebud.
The General and Colonel Keogh greeted the party, and they rode on at aslow pace. They wanted to save the wind of both the horses and dogs, forthe supreme moment when the wolves should give them all the excitementthey might desire.
About seven miles from Errolstrath, the Smoky Hill makes a grand sweepto the southeast, the curve forming nearly half a circle. Bordering theriver at that point is a series of immense limestone bluffs whosescarped sides come down to the water. The plateau which crowns thebluffs is honeycombed with holes, the dens of the big prairie wolf. Theyintended literally to beard the ferocious beasts there, for the wolfprowls by night and remains in his lair in the daytime. The General, theColonel, the old trapper, and the boys were in front, while the houndstrailed after the horses, and were not allowed to advance until the wordwas given for them to do so.
Custer's dogs were of rare breed, and had been presented to him by someEnglish or Scotch nobleman. They were rough in coat, muscular, fleet offoot, and fully able to cope with the biggest wolf that dared tacklethem.
The zigzag trail leading to the summit of the high bluff where thebusiness was expected to begin, was reached about half-past seven, andthe tedious ascent was commenced. Arriving on the top at a point where aheavy belt of timber skirted the edge toward the river, they all haltedto rest a few moments before they went out into the open where thewolves were.
An occasional low growl and a snarl were wafted by the breeze towardthem, where they were concealed among the great trees. The houndslistened with ears cocked up, and uttered a whine now and then, as theygazed wistfully into their masters' faces. They were impatient for thefray like the charger who "smelleth the battle afar," but the time hadnot yet come for them to do their work.
The morning was deliciously cool. The ground was just covered with aslight coating of frost, making friction enough to insure safety for thehorses. They would be called upon to do some hard running, and the roughplain where the wolves were, was sandy and treacherous, from theconstant digging and scratching of the quarrelsome beasts themselves.
"A perfect day for the fun," said the General, turning to the oldtrapper, who had dismounted and was cinching his saddle a littletighter.
"Yes, General," replied he, "we could not have a better morning. Thewind is just right for the dogs' noses, though I suppose those beautifulhounds of yours run both by scent and sight?"
"They are fine specimens of their species, not very graceful orbeautiful, perhaps, but for muscle and endurance, I don't believe thatthere is a wolf on the plains which can get the better of one of them ina fair fight. They have had several tussles single-handed, but so farhave come out without anything more serious than a few scratches. Theirjaws are as powerful as a bull dog's, and they hold on with all thatanimal's tenacity. I look for some fine sport to-day; there will be somelively coursing if we succeed in getting the wolves out of their holes."
"Bluey," said Joe, who was sitting on his pony alongside of Custer, "isa great fighter; he has had three or four tussles with wolves, and cameout on top every time. He has the most wonderful shaking powers I eversaw in any dog, and he has whipped two or three bull dogs in theneighborhood. They all give him a wide berth now, whenever they see himcoming. Brutus is quite a young hound yet, and although he is good withrabbits, and did some splendid work when we had that fight with thelynx, he has never really shown what he can do. I guess he'll have achance to show his mettle to-day."
"I advise all of you to cinch up your saddles," suggested the General,"as Mr. Tucker has already done, for you don't want to be tumbled off bya loose cinch. We'll make a break for the wolves in a few minutes; thehounds are uneasy, and I guess our horses are sufficiently rested now."
When the last saddle was cinched up, Custer gave the word "forward," andthe party moved out of the timber. The hounds cavorted around when theysaw signs of active work, but they were restrained from rushing too farahead by a word from their masters.
The hunters rode slowly at first, until they had emerged from thetimber. They then broke into a lope, separating to a distance of aboutfifty yards from each other. Custer was on the right, followed by theold trapper and Joe; while Rob and Colonel Keogh with the others of theparty brought up the left.
Although they were out of the standing timber, there were a great manyfallen trees scattered over the ground, and they were obliged to jumpover these, as they could not afford to waste the time to go round.
There was one immense black walnut trunk over which all had gone veryeasily excepting Colonel Keogh and Rob. When these two reached theobstacle, Rob's buffalo pony took it flying, but as Comanche rose tomake the leap, the effort burst the cinch of the saddle, and the Colonelwas thrown. He fortunately struck on his feet and held on to the bridlereins, so the animal did not get away. His orderly rushed up, and it didnot take more than five minutes to change saddles, and give the Colonela mount again.
By that time Custer and the others were far in advance, for they hadincreased their pace as the hounds sighted their quarry. Some were infull cry, the rest silent, according to the habits of their species. Ahuge wolf had come out of his hole to learn what the thud of the horses'hoofs meant, had seen the dogs, and immediately bristled up ready forbattle.
The lean and hungry-looking brute stood motionless, awaiting the arrivalof the pack of hounds. The hair along his spine stood erect like a madcat's, and his tail swelled to twice its normal proportions. They wereheading for him with tongues out and their long necks stretched, readyfor the impending battle.
In another instant, when the shock came, there was a chaotic whirlwindof wolf, dog, hair, and blood, accompanied by snarls, growls, andsqueals. This cyclone of enraged canines was enveloped in a cloud ofdust which fairly obscured the combatants for a few seconds; but whenit settled there was a dead wolf, literally torn to shreds, and a houndor two limping along, nearly _hors de combat_, after the terriblestruggle.
The noise of the fight caused a dozen or more of the denizens of thebluff to crawl out of their dens and look around to learn what was meantby this invasion of their sacred precincts.
Some just poked their heads up, and all you could see were their greatears. Others came up bristling with fight, and some, the cowardly ones,giving one look at the party of horsemen and the pack of hounds, tuckedtheir bushy tails between their legs, and scooted off over the plateau,yelping like whipped curs!
In a moment, spying those wolves that had apparently accepted the wagerof battle, the dogs made a grand rush for them, some in pairs, somesingly.
General Sheridan owned a magnificent smooth-haired hound, named Cinch,from the fact that round his belly was a dark circle, resembling asaddle-cinch. He was a very powerful animal, and had been
brought withthe pack by General Custer, on account of his well-known stayingqualities. Cinch had selected a monstrous beast, a little larger thanhimself, as his victim, and forthwith attacked him singly.
The wolf stood firmly at the mouth of his den, awaiting the approach ofCinch with a sort of self-satisfied look, as though he would tear topieces that civilized specimen of his own genus. With a growl and asnapping of their great white teeth they came together. How the hair didfly as they bit whole mouthfuls out of each other! It was an awfulstruggle for canine supremacy. Every one of the party abandoned hisquarry elsewhere--although Bluey was making a glorious fight withanother monster not a hundred yards away, and the rest of the pack werehard at work on a number that had attacked them in concert--to witnessthe battle royal between Cinch and the largest wolf that they had everseen.
At last Cinch succeeded in getting a firm hold on his shaggyantagonist's throat. It proved to be a "knock-out," for when Cinch haddone with him, the wolf was stretched out dead. The hound himself didnot escape without serious wounds. His fore paws were bitten throughand through. One of his eyes was badly torn, and great pieces of hidehung in strings from several parts of his body. He was nearly done for,so badly hurt, that the General told one of his orderlies to take thepoor dog on the saddle in front of him, and carry him back to the fortfor repairs.
They then turned their attention to Bluey. By the time they came up tohim he had just finished his antagonist as completely as had Cinch. Thewolf was dead, and the old hound was busy licking his own wounds, ofwhich he had many.
The rest of the pack which had been fighting together had killed four,but two of their number had succumbed to the fierce attacks of theiropponents, and were dead. Joe and Rob were delighted to know that Blueyand Brutus were all right after the several battles, excepting a fewbites which would soon heal.
In taking an inventory of the number of wolves killed by the hounds,they found seven in all. Their hides were so badly torn that they werenot worth skinning, so their carcasses were left just where they fell.
It was considered a good morning's work, as it was but eleven o'clockwhen Cinch had put the finishing touches on his victim. The men weretired after their rough ride, and the hounds slowly followed, tonguesout, and many of them limping fearfully. In this way they rode togetherback to the mouth of the Oxhide, then separated and went to theirrespective homes.