Part 7 (1/2)
My mates sprung to their feet at the sound of the gun, but I called to them sharp to lie down. Again we waited to see what'd follow. Nothing more happened for a while, and I was just risin' to go to the objec'
when I saw two others lyin' near the first. They seemed to fall deep in the gra.s.s when I raised myself. Drawing my gun toward me I fired twice, quick. Each shot told, for the objec' gave a howl and rolled over.
”There was no more sleep after that. We lay with our hands on our guns and close behind the cover of the trees until the light of the early morning helped us to see the animals on the gra.s.s, and we soon saw there wur no others there. Bill, Sam and me went with our guns raised toward them things on the gra.s.s, expectin' to find a bear or buffalo, but as we got near we saw they wur covered with Indian blankets. We turned 'em over with our feet, and as the blankets fell off found three naked Indians, each graspin' a knife, but they wur dead. My bullets had found a good place, so I took my scalpin' knife and soon had their scalps hangin' at my belt, and now, stranger, you can see them scalps hangin' outside my lodge.”
Jim raked the dying embers of the fire together as he finished his story, and Donald, seeing that Betty was already asleep, bade the genial half-breed ”Good-night” and left them. He looked first to see that his horse was all right, then taking a couple of buffalo-skins from one of the carts he spread them on the ground underneath, lay down on them, and was soon fast asleep. The air was cold, but in the West it is quite common for travellers to sleep upon the prairie with a very small quant.i.ty of covering; and though the thermometer may register twenty below zero, they seldom take cold, but rise in the morning invigorated by the cool air and the refres.h.i.+ng sleep which can be had only by lying on the sod of the open prairie.
Donald was up early, but he found Betty and Jim astir when he returned from looking after his horse, and in a short time breakfast was ready.
A hasty repast, and then the lodge was taken down and packed with the bedding and cooking utensils on one of the carts. The horses were gathered in and harnessed one to each, and the long caravan was ready to set out. Each Indian pony drew a load of from five to eight hundred pounds. There were twenty carts well laden, and each pony was fastened to the back of the preceding cart. In the first sat Betty and the two younger children; the two older boys and their father rode ponies, and travelled up and down along the line urging the ponies onward.
Before commencing their journey Donald had an exciting experience.
They were about ready to set off when Jim called him over to look at a horse he had to sell. The beast was a heavily-built sorrel, and stood with head drooping and a watery eye.
”He's a fine buffalo runner,” said the half-breed. ”You see that watery eye. One day I was huntin' buffalo, and a mate of mine rode this horse, and he was so excited he shot the horse through the eye.”
”How much do you want for him?”
”One hundred and fifty dollars. He's a fine buffalo runner. He'll take you over the ground in good shape. Get up and try him.”
Donald removed the saddle from his own horse and put it on the buffalo runner. The animal stood quietly until the stranger sprang into the saddle, when, as if shot from a gun, he made a sudden bound and darted off.
Out and away over the prairie he flew at a terrific rate, rider and horse apparently bent on some errand of life and death.
Onward, past bluff and coulee, they ran, the horse snorting and galloping as if in hot chase after buffalo. His rider tried to stop him, clinging to the saddle lest he should buck him off, pulling at the bridle, but all in vain. The more he pulled the faster went the horse.
There was fire in his eye; the water no longer coursed down his face.
He held his head erect, and the old dreamy-looking animal was transformed into a wild, daring creature, bold and free as wolves on the prairie, and exultant in his strength and speed.
The perspiration streamed down Donald's face, and it was not until many miles had been covered that the buffalo-runner slackened his speed or appeared to think he had done his duty.
At last he gradually eased his pace, and no doubt in his mind's eye his rider had killed some buffalo, and a good day's work had been done into the bargain. Fortunately Donald did not turn the horse's head homeward, or he might have had a repet.i.tion of the same wild ride, from which he might not have escaped so well. Some hours afterwards Jim overtook him, and was glad to find both horse and rider safe.
”Well, you had a hard ride.”
”Yes, I would not care for another like it to-day,” replied Donald.
”That's always like him. Every time I've tried to sell him he's cut up a trick like that. I don't know what gets into his head. Ye see, he seems to think he's always chasing buffalo, and away he goes.”
The two men sat down to wait until the train overtook them, and by the time it arrived they were quite ready for something to eat.
As they were unharnessing the horses a flock of geese alighted on the edge of the lake near, and Jim, seizing his rifle and taking aim, brought down a goose at three hundred yards. One of the boys ran down and picked up the goose and brought it to his mother. Under her skilful hands it was soon plucked, and being cut in pieces was dropped into the pot of water they had hung from the tripod of willow over a fire of buffalo chips to boil. All had been done with such rapidity that within forty minutes of the moment when the goose had been killed the men were eating it with that hearty relish only healthy appet.i.tes can give.
Every member of the party was grateful that the adventure of the morning had not terminated in an accident, as some had antic.i.p.ated when the watery-eyed horse had bolted, and they were consequently in excellent spirits.
The meal ended, the men smoked their pipes together while the women washed the dishes and repacked them in the wagon. Donald saddled his horse, and bidding his hospitable friends good-bye, mounted and rode away.
CHAPTER II.
The village of Latona was situated on the banks of a beautiful river which took its course in many winding curves and sharp turns from the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains until it emptied its waters into one of the wider streams and broad water highways of the North-West. The river was navigable during the greater part of the year, but the limited population, as well as the long monopoly of the trade by the Honorable Hudson's Bay Company of Fur Traders, and its rival, the North-West Company, had delayed enterprise in that direction.