NEXT morning, after a hasty breakfast, the boys saddled their horses, and, led by the trapper, set out to find the wagon. Now it was that the latter showed the young hunters his extraordinary “travelin’ qualities,” as he expressed it; for as soon as the boys were in their saddles, he shouldered his rifle and started off, at a rapid pace, which he did not slacken at all until they arrived on the banks of a small stream, where they stopped to quench their thirst.
“Now, youngsters,” said the trapper, seating himself on the ground, and wiping his forehead with his coat sleeve, “There’s the place. The Comanche’s camp war pitched jest in the edge of them ar’ willows, an’ right where you see them bushes war where I stood afore I started to run the gauntlet. The chief’s wigwam stood thar then. I tell you, it warn’t healthy fur a feller to go foolin’ ’round here them days.”
The boys gazed long and earnestly at every object the trapper pointed out, and listened to his narration of the various incidents that had transpired during his captivity, until they almost fancied they could see the prairie covered with painted savages, and their guide, in the midst of his foes, awaiting the signal to begin his race for life. Dick, himself, was no less interested, for he sat for a long time feasting his eyes on every familiar object; now and then casting suspicious glances toward the distant willows, as if he almost expected to catch a glimpse of a hostile warrior, or hear the war-whoop which had so often awoke the echoes of those very mountains.
“Wal, youngsters,” said he, at length, “let’s be movin’! I never expected to see the time when I could travel over these ere prairies without bein’ in danger of havin’ my har raised; an’ if you live to be as old as I am, you’ll see the day that ’em city chaps will ride through here on ’em steam railroads; an’ if they see this place, they’ll never dream that such things as I have told you about ever happened here.”
The travelers again set out, Dick leading the way, at a still more rapid pace, and in two hours they arrived at the camp. Mr. Winters and old Bob were lying in the shade of the wagon, and as the boys approached, the former raised himself on his elbow, and inquired:
“Well, boys, how do you like traveling on your own hook? Do you think you could find your way to California without a guide?”
“Oh, they war all right!” exclaimed Dick, leaning his rifle against the wagon, and picking up the antelope skin which Archie had thrown down, and which contained some choice pieces of meat. “They war all right! Me and Useless found ’em down on Muddy Creek, Bob. They had killed this prong-horn, made their camp, an’ war takin’ matters easy like, as though they had never heered tell on a Comanche—the keerless fellers.”
While Frank and Archie were unsaddling their horses, the trapper proceeded to recount their adventures, to which both Mr. Winters and old Bob listened attentively. The latter was not a little astonished to learn that the boys could so readily accommodate themselves to circumstances, and was more firm than ever in his belief that “the youngsters would make good trappers.”
Mr. Winters had, at first, been considerably alarmed at their absence; but, upon reflection, he remembered that the boys had often been in positions fully as dangerous, from which they had always succeeded in extricating themselves, and he soon fell in with the trapper’s opinion, that they would “turn up all right.” He did not think it necessary to caution them, for, from the description the trapper gave of their adventures, it was not at all probable that they would ever again be placed in a like situation.
After a hearty dinner, which Dick speedily served up, they again set out toward the mountains, which they reached about the middle of the afternoon. After riding along the edge of the willows, for half a mile, they came to a wide but very shallow stream, into which the trapper turned, and after following it for some distance, drove out on the bank and stopped.
“Here we are,” said he, as he climbed down out of his wagon. “Now, youngsters, you’re at the ole bar’s hole. But if you didn’t know it war here, you might hunt fur it till your har war whiter nor Bob’s, an’ then you wouldn’t find it, an’ that wouldn’t be no wonder neither; fur many a sharpeyed Comanche has looked an’ peeped fur it, but only one ever found it that I know of, an’ it didn’t do him no good, fur he never lived to tell of it.”
While the trapper was speaking, old Bob had dismounted from his horse, and, walking up to a thicket of bushes which grew at the foot of a high rock that overhung the bed of the stream, began pulling them aside, and finally disclosed to view an opening that appeared to lead down into the very bowels of the earth. Meanwhile, Dick had gathered some dry wood for a torch, and, after lighting it, he backed down into the hole and disappeared, followed by Frank and Archie, who were impatient to see the inside of the cave which had so often served their guide as a secure retreat from his enemies. The passage was long and winding, and it was with considerable difficulty that the boys worked their way into it. Besides, it was in some places so narrow that they could scarcely squeeze themselves through it. The trapper, however, worked his way along with a celerity that was surprising, and soon both he and the torch were out of sight, and the boys were left in pitch darkness. But there was little danger of their being lost in that narrow passage, and they crawled along as rapidly as possible, until at length Archie, who was leading the way, stopped, and began to rub his elbows and knees, which had received some pretty severe scratches from the sharp rocks.
“I say, Frank,” he exclaimed, “how do you suppose Dick ever squeezed his broad shoulders through a narrow place like this? What’s that?” he added, in a terrified voice, as they heard a savage growl, which seemed to sound directly over their heads.
Frank did not stop to answer, but throwing himself on his hands and knees, began to make the best of his way out of the passage, closely followed by his cousin, who urged him to go faster. They had not gone far when they were startled by the report of a rifle, which was followed by a roar that echoed and reëchoed through the cave like a heavy clap of thunder. What it was that had uttered that roar the boys were unable to determine; but they knew, by the report of the trapper’s rifle, and the sounds of a fierce struggle that came faintly to their ears, that Dick had found his old harboring-place occupied by some animal which did not feel disposed to give up possession; and they got out of the passage in much less time than it had taken them to get into it. When they reached the open air, the old trapper, who had heard the report of his “chum’s” rifle, threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled into the cave, followed by Mr. Winters. The boys at once ran to the wagon after their weapons, but by the time they had secured them, the fight was ended, and Dick made his appearance at the mouth of the passage. But he did not look like the man who had gone into that cave but a few moments before. His hunting-shirt and leggins were torn almost into shreds, his arms were bare to his shoulders, and were covered with wounds that were bleeding profusely. The boys were horrified; but their fears that the trapper had received serious injury were speedily set at rest, for he smiled as if nothing had happened, and exclaimed:
“Now you see what it is to be a trapper, youngsters. I shall allers think that ’ar cave has a good name, fur if me an’ Useless didn’t find the biggest grizzly bar in thar we ever sot eyes on, then thar aint no more beaver in the Missouri River.”
As he spoke, he divested himself of what remained of his hunting-shirt, and walked down to the creek to wash the blood off his hands and face, in which he was assisted by Mr. Winters. While this was going on, old Bob crawled out of the cave, carrying two cubs in his arms, which he presented to the boys, saying:
“Them’s young grizzlies. They don’t look now as if they would ever get to be as big and fierce as their mother war.”
As the boys took them, they both set up a shrill cry, and fought most desperately for such small animals, and their sharp little claws left more than one mark upon the hands and faces of the young hunters.
“Keep an eye open, Bob,” shouted Dick, who was seated on the ground, while Mr. Winters was bandaging his wounds. “Keep an’ eye open, ’cause the old man of the family may be ’round.”
Upon hearing this, Archie dropped his cub, and seizing his rifle, cast anxious glances upon the surrounding woods. But if the father was in the vicinity, he evidently thought it best to keep out of sight.
When Dick’s wounds had been cared for, and he had put on another suit of clothes, he seated himself on the ground, near the boys, while Bob kindled a fire and began preparations for supper.
“It aint allers fun to be a trapper, youngsters,” said Dick, puffing away at his pipe, “’cause, afore a man can earn that name, he’s got to go through a heap of skrimmages, like the one I jest had. When I’m on the prairy, or in the mountains, I allers keep my eyes open, an’ the fust thing I seed as I crawled out of that passage into that ar’ cave war that grizzly bar. She seed me, too, and set up a growl, as if to tell me that I couldn’t get away from thar any too quick; but she didn’t wink more’n twice afore I sent a chunk of lead into her. The light of the torch, however, bothered me, an’ I didn’t shoot atween her eyes, as I meant to; an’ afore a feller could say ‘Gin’ral Jackson,’ she war comin’ at me. Now, I’ve been in jest such scrapes afore, an’ the way I’ve got pawed up, an’ seed other fellers that were bigger and stronger than me, clawed an’ torn, has showed me that no one man that ever lived is a match fur a full-grown grizzly; an’ when I seed ole Bob poke his rifle out of the passage an’ draw a bead on that bar’s head, I’ll allow it made me feel a heap easier. If he had stayed away five minits longer, I don’t believe I’d ever showed you the way to Californy. As it war, I got pretty well clawed up.”
This was the way the trapper described the fight in the cave, which was one of the most desperate he had ever engaged in, as the severe wounds he had received proved. But he looked upon such things as a matter of course. He expected to be engaged in many similar fights; always held himself in readiness for them, and when they were over, another notch was added to those on the handle of his knife (for Dick kept a strict account of the number of grizzlies he killed,) and he had another story to tell by the camp-fire.
After supper, the trappers procured torches, and, accompanied by Mr. Winters and the boys, proceeded to explore the cave. There, lying where she had fallen in defense of her young, was the grizzly, which was the first of these animals the boys had ever seen. As near as they could judge, she was fully twice the size and weight of the bear Frank had killed in the woods, and her claws, which she had used with such effect upon the trapper and his dog, (for, in defending his master, Useless had been most roughly handled,) measured eight inches in length. Every thing in the cave bore evidence to the fact that the fight had been a severe one. The floor and walls were covered with blood, and on the bear’s body were numerous wounds, made by the knife of the trapper, and the teeth of the faithful Useless.
After the boys had examined the bear to their satisfaction, old Bob began to remove the skin, while Dick pointed out other objects of interest in the cave. There were the withered hemlock boughs which had many a time served him and Bill Lawson for a bed, and under them was a hole about two feet square, which the trapper called his “pantry.” He told Mr. Winters the story of the “struggle in the cave,” and showed him the passage that led to the top of the hill where the Comanches had entered, and where he had for two days kept watch, awaiting the coming of old Bill.
They remained in the cave for an hour, listening to Dick’s stories; for in his mind the “Ole Bar’s Hole” was associated with many exciting events, and it was dark before they returned to the camp.
CHAPTER IX.
Archie’s Adventure with a Grizzly.
ON the following morning the boys, as usual, were up with the sun, impatient to try their skill on the big game, with which the woods abounded. The trapper, who, during his fight in the cave, had received wounds that would have prostrated an ordinary man, was already stirring, and, having attended to his mules, was moving about as lively as ever, preparing the morning meal. In a few moments their breakfast was cooked and eaten, and, after hanging their provisions on the trees, out of reach of any wild beast that might find his way into camp during their absence, they shouldered their rifles and followed the trappers into the forest. Here they divided into two parties, Mr. Winters going with old Bob, and the boys accompanying Dick.
“Now, youngsters,” said the latter almost in a whisper, “we haint huntin’ squirrels. We’re arter bigger game. I don’t s’pose you keer ’bout tacklin’ a grizzly bar arter seein’ me pawed up the way I war last night; so if you happen to come acrosst one of them varmints, you needn’t mind shootin’ at him. Thar’s plenty other game, an’ what we want to find now ar’ a big-horn. That’s an animal, I reckon, you never seed. Go easy, now, ’cause they’ve got ears like a painter’s, an’ noses sharper nor hounds.”
So saying, the trapper led the way through a narrow ravine that lay between two mountains, whose tops seemed to pierce the clouds. The ravine, being thickly covered with bushes and logs, rendered their progress slow and tedious, and the boys, who could not help thinking what a fine hiding-place it would afford for a bear or panther, often cast uneasy glances about them, and kept as close to the trapper as possible. After they had gone about half a mile, the latter suddenly stopped and said:
“If these yere trees could talk, a’most every one of ’em would have a story to tell you ’bout me an’ ole Bill Lawson, ’cause we’ve often come through this gully when it war chuck full of Comanches. You ’member I onct told you ’bout waitin’ at the ole bar’s hole fur him, an’ that the ole feller had hid the black mustang in the bushes! Wal, here’s the very spot.”
As the trapper spoke, he pushed his way into a dense thicket, and showed the boys the sapling to which the old man had tied the horse.
“Wal, that ar’ animal,” continued Dick, “stood here fur two hours quiet an’ still as a mouse, an’ we tuk him out an’ got safe off without the varlets bein’ the wiser fur it. All the way through here we could hear ’em talkin’ to each other, an”—Look thar, youngsters, quick!”
Before the boys could look up to see what had attracted the trapper’s attention, the sharp report of his rifle rung through the gully, and a queer-looking animal come tumbling down the mountain, landing almost at their feet. Far up above the tree tops they saw the remainder of the flock bound over the rocks and disappear.
“That’s a sheep,” said the trapper, hastily reloading his rifle. “He’ll make a fust rate dinner, an’, if we keep our eyes open, we may get another.”
The game did bear a close resemblance to sheep, the only difference being his enormous horns, which looked altogether too large and heavy for so small an animal to carry. But the trapper did not allow them to closely examine their prize, for he exclaimed:
“If we want more of ’em fellers, we mustn’t waste no time. But, fust, we must separate, ’cause the further apart we get, the more likely we are to have a shot at ’em. Are you afraid to stay here, little un?”
“Of course not,” replied Archie, quickly.
“Wal, then, keep your eyes up the mountain, an’ if you see ’em ag’in, blaze away. Come on, Frank. I’ll show you whar to stand.”
The latter moved off with Dick, and Archie was left to himself. After examining the game to his satisfaction, he took up a position where he could obtain a good view of the side of the mountain, leaned back against a tree, and impatiently waited for the re-appearance of the big-horns. In front of him ran a deer path, hard and well-beaten as any road. It was, no doubt, used as a highway by animals traveling through the ravine; and Archie now and then directed his gaze up and down the path, in hopes he might discover some game in that direction.
He had remained in this position for nearly half an hour, when he did see an animal coming leisurely down the path, about fifty yards from him. It was an enormous grizzly bear. It did not appear to have determined upon any thing in particular, for it approached very slowly, stopping every few feet to snuff the air, and finally seated itself on its haunches, and proceeded to wash its paws and face, after the manner of a house cat. Archie had a good view of it. It was nearly as large as the one the trapper had killed in the cave, and the sight of its powerful claws, and the frightful array of teeth it exhibited, made the young hunter shudder. He had not been expecting so formidable a visitor, and to say that he was frightened would but feebly express his feelings. He had presence of mind enough, however, to move behind his tree, out of sight; but still he could not remove his eyes from the animal, neither could he determine upon any plan to extricate himself from his unpleasant situation. The grizzly had not yet discovered him, and Archie had his wits about him sufficiently to note the fact, that what little wind there was, was blowing from the bear toward himself. For fully five minutes—it seemed much longer to Archie—the grizzly sat in the path, sometimes looking lazily about him, and then licking his jaws like a dog that had just enjoyed a good meal; and for the same length of time did the young hunter remain behind his tree watching his movements, and wondering what course he could pursue to rid himself of his dangerous neighbor. It was not at all probable that the bear would remain in that position until the trapper returned. What if he should take it into his head to come further down the path? Archie would certainly be discovered, for the path run close by the tree, behind which he was concealed, and what would the bear do then? It was something he did not like to think about. He knew, from what he had heard the trapper say, that the grizzly’s disposition is very different from that of the black bear. The latter, unless rendered desperate by hunger, will generally take to his heels at the sight of a human being; but the grizzly looks upon all who invade his dominions as enemies, and believes in punishing them accordingly.
These thoughts passed rapidly through Archie’s mind, and in a moment more his resolve was taken. Keeping his eyes fastened on the bear, he cautiously raised his hand above his head, and, to his joy, found that he could easily reach the lowest limbs of the tree, and that they were strong enough to sustain his weight. But it was not his intention to leave the grizzly in peaceable possession of the field; for, as soon as he had satisfied himself that he had found a way of escape, he cocked his rifle and cautiously raised it to his shoulder. He was trembling violently, but at length he succeeded in quieting his nerves sufficiently to cover the bear’s head with the sight and pull the trigger. The grizzly, however, arose to his feet just as Archie fired, and the ball, instead of finding a lodgment in his brain, entered his shoulder. It brought him to the ground, and Archie caught one glimpse of him struggling in the path, and heard his growls of rage and pain, as he dropped his rifle and swung himself into the lowest branches of the tree.
It was evident that the bear meant to take ample revenge on him, for Archie heard him coming up the path. But he knew that the grizzly could not climb, and, after settling himself among the branches, he looked down at his enemy in perfect security. The bear knew where he had gone, for he ran directly to the foot of the tree, and, after smelling at the rifle and pawing it out of his way, he began walking up and down the path, all the while uttering those terrific growls, that made the young hunter tremble.
At this moment Archie heard the report of a rifle far up the mountain, which was quickly followed by another that sounded nearer. Then came a crashing in the bushes, as the big-horns fled before the hunters, and Archie heard his companions shouting to him:
“Look out, down there,” said Frank; “they’re running directly toward you, Archie.”
“Keep your eyes open, youngster,” chimed in Dick. “Don’t let ’em go by you.”
But Archie was not in a situation to intercept them, and he heard the big-horns dash across the ravine and bound up the mountain on the opposite side, closely followed by the dog, which barked fierce and loud at every jump.
“Archie, why don’t you shoot?” again shouted Frank, his voice sounding as though he was coming down the mountain.
“I can’t,” answered Archie. “Look out! Don’t come down here. I’m treed by a grizzly.”
“By a grizzly?” repeated Frank, in astonishment. “Has he hurt you?”
“No,” shouted Archie, from his tree, “I am all right; but I hurt him, I guess. Look out, Frank! he’s going toward you.”
This was a fact. The grizzly had stood perfectly still under the tree, listening to the sounds of the chase, until, finding that he could not reach Archie, he determined to revenge himself upon some one else. He had not gone far before Useless, having overtaken and killed a big-horn that his master had wounded, came up, and, discovering the grizzly, instantly gave chase. The bear, maddened by the pain of his wound, advanced with open mouth to meet him; but the dog, easily eluding his attacks, kept him busy until the trapper arrived, and put an end to the fight by shooting the bear through the head. Archie had watched the struggle from his perch, and, seeing that the grizzly was dead, he came down out of his tree, feeling very much relieved.
“You keerless feller!” exclaimed the trapper, “didn’t I tell you not to mind shootin’ at a grizzly bar?”
By this time Frank had come up with a big-horn on his shoulder, and, after having regained his rifle, Archie gave them an account of what had transpired.
“Wal,” said the trapper, “it war keerless to go a foolin’ with a bar that ar’ way. Now, you stay here, an’ I’ll go an’ get that big-horn that Useless killed.”
The dog, as if understanding what was said, led his master to the place where he had left the game. When the trapper returned, he removed the skin of the grizzly, intending to cure it, and give it to Archie to remember his “keerlessness by,” as he said. After which, they shouldered their game and returned to camp.
CHAPTER X.
Hanging a Bear.
WHEN they arrived at the wagon, they found Mr. Winters and old Bob eating their dinner. Although not as fortunate as Dick’s party, they had not returned empty-handed, for the old trapper had killed a big-horn, and Mr. Winters had knocked over a large gray wolf. Thinking that Frank might want the skin of the latter to mount in his museum, he had taken it off very carefully, and stretched it on a frame to dry.
Archie’s adventure with the grizzly was duly discussed, and, for an hour after dinner, the boys sat by the fire listening to the trapper’s stories. But they could not long endure this inactivity—there was “no fun in it,” as Archie said—so they saddled their horses and set out for a ride over the prairie. They were not after game this time. If they had been, it is not at all probable they would have discovered any, for they raced their horses over the swells, and shouted loud enough to frighten all the animals for a mile around. About the middle of the afternoon they grew tired of their ride, and turned their horses toward the camp. As they rode slowly along, about half a mile from the willows that skirted the base of the mountains, Archie, who, as usual, was leading the way, suddenly drew up his horse, exclaiming:
“See there, Frank! There’s another of the varmints!”
Frank looked toward the willows, and saw a large grizzly bear, seated on his haunches, regarding them as if not at all concerned about their approach.
“We’re safe now, Archie,” said he, as soon as he had satisfied himself that the bear had not the slightest intention of seeking safety in flight. “A grizzly can’t outrun a horse, so let’s shoot at that fellow.”
“I—I—believe I’d rather not meddle with him,” answered his cousin, shrugging his shoulders. “I say, let him alone if he lets us alone. What if our horses should get frightened and throw us? Wouldn’t we be in a fix? But I’ll shoot at him from here.”
“Why, it’s too far,” said Frank. “I am going up nearer.” As he spoke, he put his horse into a gallop and rode toward the bear, which was still seated in the edge of the willows. Archie did not at all like the idea of provoking a fight with the animal; but, after a moment’s hesitation, he followed his cousin. There might be no danger after all, he thought, for that bear certainly could not catch Sleepy Sam. The grizzly still kept his seat, closely watching the movements of the hunters, and once or twice he seemed inclined to advance on them; but, after walking a few steps, he again seated himself, as if to await their approach.
The boys had gone but a short distance, when their horses discovered the animal, and Pete at once stopped, and refused to go any further. He had evidently had some experience in bear hunting, for the sight of the animal seemed to terrify him. Words had more effect than the spurs, for when Frank spoke encouragingly to him, he would advance a few steps, and then, as if suddenly recalling his former experience, he would hastily retreat. In this way, he succeeded in getting further and further away from the bear, instead of going toward it. Archie now took the lead, in hopes that his cousin could induce his horse to follow the old buffalo hunter; but Pete utterly refused to go any nearer, and Frank at length dismounted and prepared to risk a shot at the bear at long range. The animal accepted this as a challenge, for he arose to his feet, growling savagely, and made toward the boys at a rate of speed that astonished them.
When Frank dismounted, he was careful to retain a firm hold of Pete’s bridle, for the actions of the horse plainly indicated that, if left to himself, he would take to his heels, and get as far as possible away from the dangerous neighborhood. When he saw that the bear was coming toward him, he snorted and plunged, rendering it impossible for Frank to shoot; and, in fact, the latter had no desire to do so, when he found that the grizzly was about to assume the offensive. His first thought was to remount; but the horse was so terrified that he would not stand still long enough for Frank to place his foot in the stirrup.
“Hurry up, there!” exclaimed Archie, excitedly. “The rascal is coming fast. He means fight, sure enough.”
Pete evidently thought so too, for he reared and plunged worse than ever, pulling Frank about over the prairie in spite of all he could do. Suddenly there was a loud snap, and the bridle, broken close to the bit, was violently pulled through Frank’s hand. The next moment Pete had disappeared behind a swell. For an instant the cousins gazed at each other in dismay. On foot, Frank could not hope to escape from the bear, which, in spite of his clumsy appearance, was making his way toward them with surprising rapidity; neither could he disable him by a shot from his rifle. Before, he had been as cool and collected as he possibly could be, for he knew that he had a way of escape. But Pete seemed to have carried the last particle of his master’s courage away with him, for Frank’s hand trembled so violently that he knew it would be useless to fire at the bear. But still there was a chance for escape, and Archie was the first to think of it.
“Frank!” he exclaimed, “there’s only one way now—jump up behind me.”
His cousin was prompt to act upon the suggestion, and Sleepy Sam, in answer to a thrust from his master’s spurs, carried them both toward the camp at a rapid gallop.
They no longer thought of fighting the grizzly; their only desire was to reach the old bear’s hole as soon as possible, and procure the assistance of the trappers. They both thought that the animal would soon abandon the chase, and their only fear was, that before they could reach the camp and acquaint Dick with what had transpired, the bear would be safe among the mountains. But they soon discovered their mistake. The grizzly steadily followed them, and, although Sleepy Sam made excellent time for a horse encumbered with a double load, gained at every step. But they were rapidly nearing the old bear’s hole, and, at length, the boys saw their uncle and the trappers ride out of the willows. Dick was mounted on Frank’s horse. The animal, when he found himself at liberty, had made straight for camp, and his appearance there, without his rider, occasioned no little surprise and alarm. Dick, as usual, predicted that “Frank warn’t a bit hurt. He would be sartin to turn up all right.” But still he did not know but the young hunter had got himself into “some scrape,” in which he would need assistance, and agreed with Mr. Winters that it would be best to hunt him up. The latter was fast falling in with the trapper’s opinion, that his nephews were “’bout the keerlessest chaps agoin’;” and although he knew that they always succeeded in bringing themselves “safe out of all their scrapes,” he felt considerably relieved, when he saw that Sleepy Sam had carried them out of reach of the claws of the grizzly.
Archie, when he found that assistance was at hand, stopped and faced the bear, intending to try a shot at him. But the trappers galloped toward them, Dick shouting, “Hold on thar, you keerless feller; me an’ Bob’ll take him off your hands. We’ll show you how they hunt bars in Mexico. We’ll hang the varmint.”
The trapper swung a lasso above his head, as he spoke, and brought it down across Pete’s sides, in a way that made the spirited animal prance in the most lively manner. The horse was still unwilling to approach the bear; but he knew full well that he carried a rider who was able to enforce obedience.
The grizzly stopped for a moment when he saw these new enemies approaching, then he rushed toward old Bob, who was in advance of his companion. But he was met by the trapper’s dog, which attacked him with such fury that the bear was obliged to stop and defend himself. Old Bob rode in a circle around the combatants, holding his lasso in his hand all ready for a throw, and yelling with all the strength of his lungs to encourage the dog. Dick was making desperate efforts to join his companion, but his horse stopped about a hundred yards from the bear, and stubbornly refused to go nearer. His rider, resolved to have his own way, beat him most unmercifully with his lasso, and, as the horse appeared to be equally determined, the boys were unable to decide how the battle would end. All this while Useless had kept up the contest with the bear, and the animal finding that he could not elude his attacks, rose on his haunches and struck at the dog with his paws. Old Bob had been waiting for this. Swinging his lasso around his head, he launched it at the bear, and as the noose settled down about his neck, he turned his horse and galloped off. The next moment there was a heavy thud, a smothered growl of rage, and the grizzly was prostrate on the prairie. He, however, quickly regained his feet, and, disregarding the attacks of the dog, rushed with open mouth toward old Bob. Now was the time for Dick. Having, at last, been whipped into obedience, Pete gamely approached the bear, and, in an instant more, the grizzly was powerless. Dick was on one side of him, old Bob on the other; and their lassos were drawn so taut he could not turn either way. If he attempted to attack Bob, he was checked by Dick; and if he rushed upon the latter, old Bob’s lasso stopped him. The grizzly’s struggles were desperate; his growls terrific. He tore at the lassos with his claws, and exerted all his tremendous strength to break the rawhide ropes, which were drawn as tight as a bow-string. But the conflict, desperate as it was, lasted only a short time. The grizzly’s struggles grew weaker, his growls fainter, and finally he sank on the prairie dead. The trappers slackened up their lassos, and Mr. Winters and the boys, who had closely watched this singular contest, rode up to examine their prize.
“Thar’s your bar, you keerless fellers,” said Dick. “If you don’t let these yere varmints alone, you’ll git yourselves in a bad scrape, one of these days, now, I tell you. A grizzly don’t wait fur a feller to walk up an’ shake his fist in his face, an’ say, ‘Do ye want to fight?’ He b’lieves in makin’ war on every one he sees.”
“We know that!” replied Archie. “This fellow made at us before we got near enough to shoot at him.”
“Then you did mean to fight him, did you?” asked the trapper, as he and old Bob began to skin the bear. “Wal, it aint every feller that would keer ’bout meddlin’ with a grizzly so long as the critter let him alone. I’ve seed trappers—an’ brave ones, too—that would shoulder their we’pons an’ walk off if they happened to come acrost a bar. It aint allers fun to hang a grizzly, neither; fur if your hoss falls down, or your lasso breaks, you’re a’most sartin to go under. I’ve seed more ’n one poor chap pawed up ’cause his hoss warn’t quick enough to git out of the varmint’s reach.”
In this way the trapper talked to the boys until the skin of the grizzly was taken off, when the travelers returned to their camp. As Archie remarked, it had been “a great day for bears,” and the evening was appropriately passed in listening to the stories the trappers related of their adventures with these animals.
CHAPTER XI.
A Buffalo Hunt.
THE next morning, after breakfast, the boys seated themselves by the fire, and while Frank mended his bridle, which Pete had broken the day before, Archie was endeavoring to conjure up some plan for the day’s amusement. Even in that country, which abounded with game, the boys were at a loss how to pass the time, for the grizzlies had interfered with their arrangements considerably. If they went hunting in the mountains, they might come across another bear; and their recent experience with those animals had shown them that the hunters were sometimes the hunted. They had no desire for further adventures with the monsters, and they had at last decided that they would take a gallop over the prairie, when they were startled by the clatter of horses’ hoofs in the creek, and old Bob—who, at daylight, had started out on a “prospecting” expedition—galloped into camp, breathless and excited. The boys very naturally cast their eyes toward the prairie, to see if he were not followed by a grizzly; but the sight of one of those animals never affected the old trapper in that manner. He had seen what he considered larger and more profitable game.
“Dick,” he exclaimed, drawing up his horse with a sudden jerk—“Dick, have some buffaler hump for dinner?”
“Sartin,” replied the trapper, hastily rising to his feet, and throwing away his pipe. “In course. Saddle up to onct, youngsters. We’ll have some game now as is game.”
The announcement that there is a herd of buffaloes in the vicinity, always creates an uproar in a hunter’s camp, and there was no exception to the rule this time. The boys had never seen the trapper so eager; and even Mr. Winters, generally so cool and deliberate, was not so long in saddling his horse as usual. This, of course, had an effect upon the boys; but, as is always the case, their hurry occasioned them a considerable loss of time. Archie could not find his bridle, and Frank, in his eagerness, broke his saddle-girth; and, to increase their excitement, the others, as soon as they had saddled their horses (Dick rode one of the mules) and secured their weapons, rode off, leaving them alone. Archie, after a lengthy search, found his bridle in the wagon, and Frank at last succeeded in mending his saddle-girth with a piece of buckskin. The boys’ rifles stood together against a tree, close by, with all the accouterments hanging to the muzzles. Frank’s being a common “patch” rifle, he, of course, had a powder-horn and bullet pouch, while Archie carried the ammunition for his breech-loader in a haversack. The latter was ready first, and hastily seizing the gun that came first to his hand, secured Frank’s instead of his own, and, putting his horse into a gallop, rode down the bed of the creek, throwing the powder-horn and bullet pouch over his shoulder as he went. Frank was ready a moment afterward, and finding his own rifle gone, he, of course, took Archie’s. Although he thought nothing of it at the time, he afterward looked upon it as a lucky circumstance. In addition to their rifles, the boys each had two revolvers, which they carried in their holsters. Frank overtook the hunters at the edge of the prairie, where they had stopped to wait for him, and to hold a consultation. The high swells that rose in every direction shut them out from the view of the game, but old Bob knew exactly where to go to find it. As they went along, at an easy gallop, Dick rode up beside the boys, and, addressing himself to Frank, said:
“Now, youngster, this’ll be new bisness to you, so don’t be keerless. You must ’member that your hoss ar’ as green as a punkin in buffaler huntin’, an’, if you let him get stampeded, he’ll take you cl’ar to Mexico afore he stops.”
“Stampeded!” repeated Frank. “Does a horse ever get stampeded with buffaloes?”
“Sartin he do,” answered the trapper, with a laugh; “an’ if you ever get teetotally surrounded by a thousand bellerin’, pitchin’ buffalers, you’ll say it’s the wust scrape you ever war in. So don’t go too clost to ’em. If your hoss gets frightened, stop him to onct, and quit follerin’ ’em.”
Dick was then proceeding to instruct the boys in the manner of hunting the buffaloes, when old Bob, who had been leading the way, suddenly came to a halt.
“They’re jest behind that swell,” said he. “Don’t you hear ’em? Now, we must separate.” Then, in hurried whispers, he pointed out the station he wished each to occupy, and, after Dick had again cautioned Frank to keep his horse completely under his control, the boys rode away in different directions.
When Frank reached his station, he stopped his horse, examined his rifle, opened his holsters, so that he could readily draw his revolvers, and waited impatiently for the signal. The hunters were stationed about a quarter of a mile apart. Old Bob was in the center of the line. After satisfying himself that they were all in their places, he waved his hat—the signal for the advance. They all started at the same moment, and, before Frank could think twice, his horse had carried him to the top of the swell, and he was in full view of the game. The sight that met his eyes astonished him.
He had often read of the prairie being black with buffaloes, but he had never seen it before. The herd was an immense one, and stretched away in all directions as far as his eye could reach. But he was allowed no time for admiration, for, the moment the hunters made their appearance, the buffaloes discovered them, and made off at the top of their speed, the noise of their hoofs sounding on the hard prairie like the rolling of thunder. Pete was not afraid of buffaloes, and he soon carried his master within easy range of the herd, the nearest of which fell at the crack of his rifle. Too impatient to reload his gun, Frank drew one of his revolvers, and, forgetting, in his excitement, all the trapper’s advice, spurred after the flying herd; and, so close was he to them, that he seldom missed his mark. When he had fired all the charges, he returned his empty weapon to his holster, and, as he drew the other, he cast his eye in the direction of his companions, and was a good deal surprised to discover that some of the herd had got between him and the rest of his party, and were running almost side by side with him. On the outer edge of the herd, he saw his cousin in company with the trappers. Archie had, doubtless, emptied all his weapons, for he appeared to be engaged in reloading. Further back, he saw Mr. Winters, who had stopped to “settle” a large bull he had wounded. He also noticed that the mule, on which Dick was mounted, being entirely unaccustomed to such business, and frightened by the discharges of the fire-arms, and the noise of the rushing herd, was making desperate but unsuccessful attempts to throw his rider. Frank, taking this all in at a glance, then turned his attention to the animals nearest him, and soon emptied his second revolver.
All this while Pete had been running with the bridle hanging loose on his neck; now, as Frank gathered up the reins, he noticed, for the first time, that he was going at a rate of speed he had never before accomplished. This, however, did not alarm him; but, seeing that he was leaving his companions behind, he thought he would slacken his pace and wait for them to come up. He drew in the reins, but it had no effect on the horse, which, looking back over his shoulder, as if frightened at something that was pursuing him, bounded off faster than ever. Taking a firmer hold of the reins, Frank pulled again with all his strength, but to no purpose. Had he been at sea, in an open boat, without rudder, sails, or oars, he could not have been more helpless than he was at that moment. His horse, perfectly unmanageable, was running away with him! In an instant, the thought flashed through Frank’s mind, that he was in the very position the trapper had so emphatically cautioned him to avoid. But still he was not frightened, until he cast his eyes behind him, and, to his utter dismay, discovered that the herd had closed in on all sides of him. Around his horse was a clear space of perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, which was slowly but surely growing smaller, as the frightened animals pressed and crowded against each other. On every side he saw a mass of horns, and tails, and shaggy shoulders, which, like a wall, shut him away from his companions. Away off to the right, he saw the trappers, Archie, and Mr. Winters, no longer pursuing the game, but gazing after him, and throwing their arms wildly about. If they shouted, Frank did not hear what they said, for the noise of that multitude of hoofs would have drowned the roar of Niagara. They could not assist him, neither could he help himself. That very morning the trapper had told him of seeing a man trampled to death by a herd of buffaloes, and now a similar fate was in store for himself. The appalling thought seemed to deprive him of the last particle of strength, for he reeled in his saddle, and only caught the mane of his horse just in time to save himself from falling to the ground. But, as was always the case with Frank, when placed in situations of extreme danger, this burst of weakness quickly passed. While he had life, he could not relinquish all hope of being able to bring himself safely out of even this, the most perilous position in which he had ever found himself. He could determine upon no particular plan for escape, so long as he was surrounded by those frantic buffaloes. The only course he could pursue was to compel Pete to keep pace with the herd. But this plan did not place him out of the reach of danger. He knew that buffaloes, when stampeded, turn aside for nothing. Neither hills nor rivers check their mad flight, and any living thing that stands in their way is trampled to death. Even the exhausted members of the herd, unable to keep pace with the others, are borne down and crushed to a jelly. They neither seem to hear or see any thing; all their senses being merged into the desire to get as far as possible from the object that has excited their alarm; and they seldom stop until completely exhausted.
Frank knew this, and the question that arose in his mind was, “How long could his horse stand that rapid gallop?” He appeared to be as thoroughly frightened as the buffaloes, and it was not at all probable he would show any inclination to stop, so long as he saw that shaggy mass behind him, or could hear the noise of their hoofs, which sounded like the rumbling of an immense cataract. The more he thought of his critical situation, the firmer was his belief that there was but one way open to him, and that was to keep ahead of the animals, which were behind him. Having determined upon this, he again cast his eyes toward the place where he had last seen his friends. They were gone, and Frank was alone in the midst of that multitude of frantic buffaloes.
When the trappers had discovered Frank’s situation, they knew it was out of their power to assist him. After following him a short distance, in the vain hope of making him hear the words of advice and encouragement which they sent after him with all the strength of their lungs, they had fallen back out of sight. Dick had advised this course, “Fur,” said he, “the longer we foller ’em, the faster they’ll run. They won’t stop till they’re clean gin out. If the youngster stays on his hoss, an’ keeps ahead of ’em till they’re a leetle over their fright, he’s all right.”
Dick, however, did not intend to leave his young companion altogether. At his request, Archie gave up Sleepy Sam to him, and, after assuring the others, who were in a state of intense excitement and alarm, that he would certainly find Frank and bring him back safe, he rode off in the direction the buffaloes had gone, while the rest of the party returned to collect their game.
Meanwhile, Pete, rendered frantic by the deafening noise, was carrying Frank over the prairie at a terrific pace. The young hunter’s alarm had somewhat abated, and he appeared as calm as though he was merely taking a ride for amusement; but his mind was exceedingly busy, and, in a very short space of time, he lived over his whole life. He cast frequent and anxious glances behind him, but could see no change for the better in his situation. The buffaloes, as far as his eye could reach, pushed and crowded against each other, apparently as frightened as ever, but taking no notice whatever of the horseman in their midst. The space around his horse was gradually growing smaller, which made Frank shudder when he thought what the result would be if they should close in upon him.
One hour passed, and still the frightened herd dashed on, with the frantic horse and his helpless rider in their midst, without, in the least, slackening their pace. Pete was evidently in distress. That mad gallop was telling on him severely; but, while those buffaloes were behind him, all attempts to stop him would have been useless. Another hour glided by, and, to his joy, Frank discovered that the animals behind him were scattering, and that the line of his pursuers was growing thinner. Those in front still ran as fast as ever—no doubt, pushed onward by those behind them, while those in the extreme rear were evidently getting over their fright. Frank looked again and again, to satisfy himself that he was not mistaken, and he was confident that, if his horse could hold out half an hour longer, the buffaloes, slowly dividing right and left, would leave a way of escape open to him. The minutes seemed lengthened into hours; but his pursuers were now rapidly taking up their places on the flanks of the herd, and, in a short time, not a buffalo was to be seen behind him.
Again Frank pulled the reins, and Pete, almost exhausted, and no longer hearing that terrific noise behind him, willingly stopped. Frank, filled with gratitude for his escape, threw himself from the saddle, just as the last of the buffaloes were disappearing over a neighboring swell.