Read The Red Man's Revenge: A Tale of The Red River Flood Page 11


  CHAPTER TEN.

  FATE OF THE BUFFALO-HUNTERS.

  In vain did the pursuers search after the lost Tony. Finding itimpossible to rediscover the trail, they made for the nearest post ofthe fur-traders, from whom they heard of an Indian who had passed thatway in the direction of the Rocky Mountains, but the traders had takenno special notice of the boy, and could tell nothing about him. Theywillingly, however, supplied the pursuers with provisions on credit, forthey knew Victor's father well by repute, and allowed them to join aparty who were about to ascend the Saskatchewan river.

  On being further questioned, one of the traders did remember that thehair of the boy seemed to him unusually brown and curly for that of aredskin, but his reminiscences were somewhat vague. Still, on thestrength of them, Victor and Ian resolved to continue the chase, andRollin agreed to follow. Thus the summer and autumn passed away.

  Meanwhile a terrible disaster had befallen the buffalo-hunters of theRed River.

  We have said that after disposing of the proceeds of the spring hunt inthe settlement, and thus securing additional supplies, it is the customof the hunters to return to the plains for the fall or autumn hunt,which is usually expected to furnish the means of subsistence during thelong and severe winter. But this hunt is not always a success, and whenit is a partial failure the gay, improvident, harum-scarum half-breedshave a sad time of it. Occasionally there is a total failure of thehunt, and then starvation stares them in the face. Such was the case atthe time of which we write, and the improvident habits of those peoplein times of superabundance began to tell.

  Many a time in spring had the slaughter of animals been so great thatthousands of their carcasses were left where they fell, nothing but thetongues having been carried away by the hunters. It was calculated thatnearly two-thirds of the entire spring hunt had been thus left to thewolves. Nevertheless, the result of that hunt was so great that thequantity of fresh provisions--fat, pemmican, and dried meat--broughtinto Red River, amounted to considerably over one million pounds weight,or about two hundred pounds weight for each individual, old and young,in the settlement. A large proportion of this was purchased by theHudson's Bay Company, at the rate of twopence per pound, for the supplyof their numerous outposts, and the half-breed hunters pocketed amongthem a sum of nearly 1200 pounds. This, however, was their only market,the sales to settlers being comparatively insignificant. In the sameyear the agriculturists did not make nearly so large a sum--but then theagriculturists were steady, and their gains were saved, while the jovialhalf-breed hunters were volatile, and their gains underwent the processof evaporation. Indeed, it took the most of their gains to pay theirdebts. Thus, with renewed supplies on credit, they took the field forthe fall campaign in little more than a month after their return fromthe previous hunt.

  It is not our purpose to follow the band step by step. It is sufficientto say that the season was a bad one; that the hunters broke up intosmall bands when winter set in, and some of these followed the fortunesof the Indians, who of course followed the buffalo as their only meansof subsistence.

  In one of these scattered groups were Herr Winklemann and BaptisteWarder--the latter no longer a captain, his commission having lapsedwith the breaking up of the spring hunt. The plains were covered withthe first snows. The party were encamped on a small eminence whence awide range of country could be seen.

  "There is a small herd on the horizon," said Baptiste, descending fromthe highest part of the hillock towards the fire where the German wasseated eating a scrap of dried meat.

  "Zat is vell. I vill go after dem."

  He raised his bulky frame with a sigh, for he was somewhat weak anddispirited--the band with which he hunted having been at thestarving-point for some days. Winklemann clothed himself in awolf-skin, to which the ears and part of the head adhered. A smallsledge, which may be described as a long thin plank with one end curledup, was brought to him by a hungry-looking squaw. Four dogs wereattached to it with miniature harness made to fit them. When all wasready the hunter flung himself flat on his face at full length on thesledge, cracked his whip, and away went the dogs at full speed. HerrWinklemann was armed only with bow and arrows, such weapons being mostsuitable for the work in hand.

  Directing his course to a small clump of trees near to which the buffalowere scraping away the yet shallow snow to reach their food, he soongained the shelter of the bushes, fastened up the dogs, and advancedthrough the clump to the other side.

  It was a fine sight to a hungry man. About a dozen animals werebrowsing there not far out of gunshot. Winklemann at once went down onall-fours, and arranged the large wolf-skin so that the legs hung downover his own legs and arms, while the head was pulled over his eyes likea hood. Thus disguised, he crept into the midst of the unsuspiciousband.

  The buffalo is not afraid of wolves. He treats them with contempt. Itis only when he is wounded, or enfeebled by sickness or old age, thathis sneaking enemy comes and sits down before him, licking his chops inthe hope of a meal.

  A fat young cow cast a questioning glance at Winklemann as he approachedher. He stopped. She turned aside and resumed her feeding. Then sheleaped suddenly into the air and fell quivering on the snow, with anarrow up to the feathers in her side. The hunter did not rise. Theanimals near to the cow looked at her a moment, as if in surprise at hereccentric behaviour, and then went on feeding. Again the hunter benthis bow, and another animal lay dying on the plain. The guardian bullobserved this, lifted his shaggy head, and moved that subtle index oftemper, his tail. An ill-directed arrow immediately quivered in hisflank. With a roar of rage he bounded into the air, tossed up hisheels, and seeing no enemy on whom to wreak his vengeance--for the wolfwas crouching humbly on the snow--he dashed wildly away, followed by therest of the astonished herd.

  The whole camp had turned out by that time to resume their journey, andadvanced joyfully to meet the returning hunter. As they passed one ofthe numerous clumps of wood with which the plains were studded, anotherherd of buffalo started suddenly into view. Among other objects ofinterest in the band of hunters, there happened to be a small child,which was strapped with some luggage on a little sled and drawn by twodogs. These dogs were lively. They went after the buffalo full swing,to the consternation of the parents of the child. It was their onlychild. If it had only been a fragment of their only child, the two dogscould not have whisked it off more swiftly. Pursuit was useless, yetthe whole band ran yelling after it. Soon the dogs reached the heels ofthe herd, and all were mixed pell-mell together,--the dogs barking, thesled swinging to and fro, and the buffalo kicking. At length a bullgored one of the dogs; his head got entangled in the harness, and hewent off at a gallop, carrying the dog on his horns, the other suspendedby the traces, and the sled and child whirling behind him. The enragedcreature ran thus for full half a mile before ridding himself of theencumbrance, and many shots were fired at him without effect. Both dogswere killed, but, strange to say, the child was unhurt.

  The supply of meat procured at this time, although very acceptable, didnot last long, and the group with which Winklemann was connected wassoon again reduced to sore straits. It was much the same with thescattered parties elsewhere, though they succeeded by hard work insecuring enough of meat to keep themselves alive.

  In these winter wanderings after the buffalo, the half-breeds and theirfamilies had travelled from 150 to 200 miles from the colony, but in themidst of their privations they kept up heart, always hoping that thesudden discovery of larger herds would ere long convert the presentscarcity into the more usual superabundance. But it was otherwiseordained. On the 20th of December there was a fearful snowstorm, suchas had not been witnessed for years. It lasted several days, drove thebuffalo hopelessly beyond the reach of the hunters, and killed most oftheir horses. What greatly aggravated the evil was the suddenness ofthe disaster. According to the account of one who was in Red River atthe time, and an eye-witness, the animals disappeared almostinstantaneously
, and no one was prepared for the inevitable famine thatfollowed. The hunters were at the same time so scattered that theycould render each other no assistance. Indeed, the various groups didnot know whereabouts the others were. Some were never found. Here andthere whole families, despairing of life, weakened by want, andperishing with cold, huddled themselves together for warmth. At firstthe heat of their bodies melted the snow and soaked their garments.These soon froze and completed the work of destruction. They died wherethey lay. Some groups were afterwards discovered thus frozen togetherin a mass of solid ice.

  While the very young and the feeble succumbed at once, the more robustmade a brave struggle for life, and, as always happens in cases ofextreme suffering, the good or evil qualities of men and women came outprominently to view. The selfish, caring only for themselves, forsooktheir suffering comrades, seized what they could or dared, and thusprolonged awhile their wretched lives. The unselfish and noble-heartedcared for others, sacrificed themselves, and in many cases were themeans of saving life.

  Among these last were Baptiste Warder and Winklemann.

  "I vill valk to de settlement," said the latter, one morning towards themiddle of January, as he rose from his lair and began to preparebreakfast.

  "I'll go with you," said Warder. "It's madness to stop here. Deathwill be at our elbow anyhow, but he'll be sure to strike us all if weremain where we are. The meat we were lucky enough to get yesterdaywill keep our party on short allowance for some time, and the men willsurely find something or other to eke it out while we push on and bringrelief."

  "Goot," returned the German; "ve vill start after breakfast. My lecksare yet pretty strong."

  Accordingly, putting on their snow-shoes, the two friends set out on ajourney such as few men would venture to undertake, and fewer couldaccomplish, in the circumstances.

  On the way they had terrible demonstration of the extent of sufferingthat prevailed among their friends.

  They had not walked twenty miles when they came on tracks which led themto a group--a father, mother, and two sons--who were sitting on the snowfrozen to death. In solemn silence the hunters stood for a few minutesand looked at the sad sight, then turned and passed on. The case wastoo urgent to permit of delay. Many lives hung on their speedyconveyance of news to the settlement. They bent forward, and with longswinging strides sped over the dreary plains until darkness--notexhaustion--compelled them to halt. They carried with them a smallamount of pemmican, about half rations, trusting to meet with somethingto shoot on the way. Before daylight the moon rose. They rose with itand pushed on. Suddenly they were arrested by an appalling yell. Nextmoment a man rushed from a clump of trees brandishing a gun. He stoppedwhen within fifty yards, uttered another demoniacal yell, and took aimat Warder.

  Quick as thought the ex-captain brought his own piece to his shoulder.He would have been too late if the gun of his opponent had not missedfire.

  "Stop! 'tis Pierre Vincent!" cried Winklemann, just in time to arrestWarder's hand.

  Vincent was a well-known comrade, but his face was so disfigured by dirtand blood that they barely recognised him. He flung away his gun whenit snapped, and ran wildly towards them.

  "Come! come! I have food, food! ha! ha! much food yonder in the bush!My wife and child eat it! they are eating eating now! ha! ha!"

  With another fierce yell the poor maniac--for such he had become--turnedoff at a tangent, and ran far away over the plains.

  They made no attempt to follow him; it would have been useless. In thebush they found his wife and child stone-dead. Frequently during thatterrible walk they came on single tracks, which invariably showed thatthe traveller had fallen several times, and at length taken to creeping.Then they looked ahead, for they knew that the corpse of a man or womanwas not far in advance of them.

  One such track led them to a woman with an infant on her back. She wasstill pretty strong, and trudged bravely over the snow on hersnow-shoes, while the little one on her back appeared to be quitecontent with its lot, although pinched-looking in the face.

  The men could not afford to help her on. It would have delayedthemselves. The words "life and death" seemed to be ringing constantlyin their ears. But they spoke kindly to the poor woman, and gave hernearly all their remaining stock of provisions, reserving just enoughfor two days.

  "I've travelled before now on short allowance," said Warder, with apitiful smile. "We're sure to come across something before long. Ifnot, we can travel empty for a bit."

  "Goot; it vill make us lighter," said Winklemann, with a grave nod.

  They parted from the woman, and soon left her out of sight behind. Shenever reached the settlement. She and the child were afterwards founddead within a quarter of a mile of Pembina. From the report of theparty she had left, this poor creature must have travelled upwards of ahundred miles in three days and nights before sinking in that terriblestruggle for life.

  Warder and his companion did not require to diverge in order to followthese tracks. They all ran one way, straight for Red River--for home!But there were _many_, very many, who never saw that home again.

  One exception they overtook on their fourth day. She was a middle-agedwoman, but her visage was so wrinkled by wigwam smoke, and she had sucha stoop, that she seemed very old indeed.

  "Why, I know that figure," exclaimed Warder, on sighting her; "it's oldLiz, Michel Rollin's Scotch mother!"

  So it turned out. She was an eccentric creature, full of life, fire,and fun, excessively short and plain, but remarkably strong. She hadbeen forsaken by her nephew, she said. Michel, dear Michel, would nothave left her in the lurch if he had been there. But she would be athome to receive Michel on his return. That she would! And she wasright. She reached the settlement alive, though terribly exhausted.

  Warder and Winklemann did not "come across" anything except one raven,but they shot that and devoured it, bones and all. Then they travelleda day without food and without halt. Next day they might reach thesettlement if strength did not fail, but when they lay down that nightWarder said he felt like going to die, and Winklemann said that his"lecks" were now useless, and his "lunks" were entirely gone!