CHAPTER THREE.
THE PRAIRIE FEVER.
After a week spent in Independence buying mules and waggons, we took theroute over the plains. There were a hundred waggons in the caravan, andnearly twice that number of teamsters and attendants. Two of thecapacious vehicles contained all my "plunder;" and, to manage them, Ihad hired a couple of lathy, long-haired Missourians. I had alsoengaged a Canadian voyageur named Gode, as a sort of attendant orcompagnon.
Where are the glossy gentlemen of the Planters' Hotel? One wouldsuppose they had been left behind, as here are none but men inhunting-shirts and slouch hats. Yes; but under these hats we recognisetheir faces, and in these rude shirts we have the same jovial fellows asever. The silky black and the diamonds have disappeared, for now thetraders flourish under the prairie costume. I will endeavour to give anidea of the appearance of my companions by describing my own; for I amtricked out very much like themselves.
I wear a hunting-shirt of dressed deerskin. It is a garment more afterthe style of an ancient tunic than anything I can think of. It is of alight yellow colour, beautifully stitched and embroidered; and the cape,for it has a short cape, is fringed by tags cut out of the leatheritself. The skirt is also bordered by a similar fringe, and hangs fulland low. A pair of "savers" of scarlet cloth cover my limbs to thethigh; and under these are strong jean pantaloons, heavy boots, and bigbrass spurs. A coloured cotton shirt, a blue neck-tie, and abroad-brimmed Guayaquil hat, complete the articles of my everyday dress.Behind me, on the cantle of my saddle, may be observed a bright redobject folded into a cylindrical form. That is my "Mackinaw," a greatfavourite, for it makes my bed by night and my greatcoat on otheroccasions. There is a small slit in the middle of it, through which Ithrust my head in cold or rainy weather; and I am thus covered to theankles.
As I have said, my _compagnons de voyage_ are similarly attired. Theremay be a difference of colour in the blanket or the leggings, or theshirt may be of other materials; but that I have described may be takenas a character dress.
We are all somewhat similarly armed and equipped. For my part, I maysay that I am "armed to the teeth." In my holsters I carry a pair ofColt's large-sized revolvers, six shots each. In my belt is anotherpair of the small size, with five shots each. In addition, I have alight rifle, making in all twenty-three shots, which I have learned todeliver in as many seconds of time. Failing with all these, I carry inmy belt a long shining blade known as a "bowie knife." This last is myhunting knife, my dining knife, and, in short, my knife of all work.For accoutrements I have a pouch and a flask, both slung under the rightarm. I have also a large gourd canteen and haversack for my rations.So have all my companions.
But we are differently mounted. Some ride saddle mules, others bestridemustangs, while a few have brought their favourite American horses. Iam of this number. I ride a dark-brown stallion, with black legs, andmuzzle like the withered fern. He is half-Arab, and of perfectproportions. He is called Moro, a Spanish name given him by theLouisiana planter from whom I bought him, but why I do not know. I haveretained the name, and he answers to it readily. He is strong, fleet,and beautiful. Many of my friends fancy him on the route, and offerlarge prices for him; but these do not tempt me, for my Moro serves mewell. Every day I grow more and more attached to him. My dog Alp, aSaint Bernard that I bought from a Swiss _emigre_ in Saint Louis, hardlycomes in for a tithe of my affections.
I find on referring to my note-book that for weeks we travelled over theprairies without any incident of unusual interest. To me the scenerywas interest enough; and I do not remember a more striking picture thanto see the long caravan of waggons, "the prairie ships," deployed overthe plain, or crawling slowly up some gentle slope, their white tiltscontrasting beautifully with the deep green of the earth. At night,too, the camp, with its corralled waggons, and horses picketed around,was equally a picture. The scenery was altogether new to me, and imbuedme with impressions of a peculiar character. The streams were fringedwith tall groves of cottonwood trees, whose column-like stems supporteda thick frondage of silvery leaves. These groves meeting at differentpoints, walled in the view, so dividing the prairies from one another,that we seemed to travel through vast fields fenced by colossal hedges.
We crossed many rivers, fording some, and floating our waggons overothers that were deeper and wider. Occasionally we saw deer andantelope, and our hunters shot a few of these; but we had not yetreached the range of the buffalo. Once we stopped a day to recruit in awooded bottom, where the grass was plentiful and the water pure. Nowand then, too, we were halted to mend a broken tongue or an axle, orhelp a "stalled" waggon from its miry bed.
I had very little trouble with my particular division of the caravan.My Missourians turned out to be a pair of staunch hands, who couldassist one another without making a desperate affair of every slightaccident.
The grass had sprung up, and our mules and oxen, instead of thinningdown, every day grew fatter upon it. Moro, therefore, came in for abetter share of the maize that I had brought in my waggons, and whichkept my favourite in fine travelling condition.
As we approached the Arkansas, we saw mounted Indians disappearing overthe swells. They were Pawnees; and for several days clouds of thesedusky warriors hung upon the skirts of the caravan. But they knew ourstrength, and kept at a wary distance from our long rifles.
To me every day brought something new, either in the incidents of the"voyage" or the features of the landscape.
Gode, who has been by turns a voyageur, a hunter, a trapper, and a_coureur du bois_, in our private dialogues had given me an insight intomany an item of prairie-craft, thus enabling me to cut quite arespectable figure among my new comrades. Saint Vrain, too, whosefrank, generous manner had already won my confidence, spared no pains tomake the trip agreeable to me. What with gallops by day and the wildertales by the night watch-fires, I became intoxicated with the romance ofmy new life. I had caught the "prairie-fever!"
So my companions told me, laughing. I did not understand them then. Iknew what they meant afterwards. The prairie fever! Yes. I was justthen in process of being inoculated by that strange disease. It grewupon me apace. The dreams of home began to die within me; and withthese the illusory ideas of many a young and foolish ambition.
My strength increased, both physically and intellectually. Iexperienced a buoyancy of spirits and a vigour of body I had never knownbefore. I felt a pleasure in action. My blood seemed to rush warmerand swifter through my veins, and I fancied that my eyes reached to amore distant vision. I could look boldly upon the sun without quiveringin my glance.
Had I imbibed a portion of the divine essence that lives, and moves, andhas its being in those vast solitudes? Who can answer this?