Part 3 (2/2)

”Me is pretty tight,” said Bunco languidly.

”Come, come,” cried the trapper, ”don't s.h.i.+rk your victuals. There's one more course, and then you can rest if you have a mind to.”

So saying, the indefatigable man took up the intestines of the buffalo, which had been properly prepared for the purpose, turned them inside out, and proceeded to stuff them with strips of tender loin well salted and peppered. The long sausage thus hastily made was hung in festoons before the fire, and roasted until it was thoroughly browned. Portions were then cut off and set down before the company. When each thought of beginning he felt as though the swallowing of a single bite were utterly impossible, but when each had actually begun he could not stop, but continued eating until all was finished, and then wished for more, while Benjamin Hicks chuckled heartily to witness the success of his cookery and the extent of his friends' powers.

Ah, it is all very well, reader, for you to say ”Humph! nonsense,” but go you and wander for a year or two among the Rocky Mountains, acquire the muscles of a trapper and the digestion of an ostrich, then starve yourself for a few days, and get the chance of a ”feed” such as we have feebly described, and see whether you won't come home (if you ever come home) saying, ”Well, after all, truth _is_ strange, stranger than fiction!”

It need scarcely be said that the solace of the pipe was sought immediately after the meal was concluded by Will, Larry, and Bunco; but Big Ben did not join them. He had starved longer than they, and intended, as he said, to eat all night!

”Well,” observed Larry, as he extended himself at full length before the blaze, and resting his right elbow on the ground and his head on his hand, smoked in calm felicity; ”I've often found that there's nothin'

like tiredness to make a man enjoy rest, but, faix, it's this night I've larned, as I niver did before, that there's nothin' like starvation to mak wan enjoy his victuals.”

”Eight, Larry,” said Will Osten with a laugh; ”upon my word I think it would be worth while to live always on the plan of missing our meals each alternate day, in order to enjoy them more thoroughly on the other days.”

”If city men would go on that plan,” observed the trapper, gravely tearing the flesh from a rib with his teeth, and speaking at the same time, ”there would be no use for doctors.”

”Ah, then, think of that now; wouldn't it be a rail hard case for the poor doctors?” said Larry, with a sly glance at Will.

Bunco grinned at this, and observed that it was ”time for hims be go sleep.” Whereupon he rolled his blanket about him and lay down with his feet to the fire. Will Osten also lay down and fell asleep almost immediately. Larry, too, stretched himself out in repose, leaving Big Ben still engaged with the buffalo beef.

The night was rather cold. In course of time Will Osten awoke, and called to the trapper to mend the fire, which he did, and then resumed his former occupation. Once or twice after that, one and another of the slumberers awoke, and, looking up sleepily for a few seconds, beheld the enduring man still hard at work. The last to lift his head that night was Larry. The puzzled Irishman gazed in mute amazement during the unusually long period of half a minute, for Benjamin Hicks still sat there, glittering in the light of the camp-fire, grave as a Redskin, and busy as ever with the bones!

CHAPTER THREE.

RELATES HOW BIG BEN BECAME A TRAVELLING COMPANION, AND HOW A BIG BEAR WAS CAPTURED--DISCUSSIONS AND MISFORTUNES.

To the great satisfaction of Will Osten and his friends, it was discovered that Benjamin Hicks was a wandering trapper, whose avocations led him to whatever part of the wilderness was most likely to produce furs, and who had no particular objection to take a trip across the mountains with our adventurers. Indeed Big Ben thought no more of a ride of several hundreds of miles than most men do of an afternoon walk, and, if particular business did not prevent him, he was always ready to undertake a ”venture” so long as it was, in his opinion, justifiable and likely to pay.

”You see, sir,” he said, as he and Will cantered together along the base of a low hill one evening, ”it's not that I'm of an unsettled natur', but I've bin born to this sort o' life, an' it would be no manner o' use in me tryin' to change it. Once upon a time I used to think o' settlin'

in one of the back settlements--that was when my poor old mother was alive. I used to live with her and take care of her after my father's death. Then I married and thought I was fairly fixed down for life, but one night when I chanced to be out looking after my traps, a war-party o' Injuns attacked the village and killed every soul in it. At least so it was said at the time, but afterwards I met a lad who had escaped, an'

he told me that he had seen my mother and wife killed, but that a few of the men escaped as well as him.”

The trapper's voice deepened as he spoke, and he paused.

”Was it long ago?” asked Will, in a tone of sympathy.

”Ten years now,” answered Ben, sadly--”though it seems to me but yesterday. For many a day after that I tried to find the trail o' the Redskins that did it, but never succeeded, thank G.o.d. If I had, it would only have ended in the spillin' of more blood, without any good comin' of it. It is long now since I left off thirstin' for revenge, but I suppose I'll never cease wis.h.i.+n' that--that--well, well, G.o.d's will be done,” he added, as if rousing himself out of a sad reverie, ”I'm not used to speak about this, but somehow whenever I meet with white men _o' the right sort_ in the plains or mountains, I always feel a kind o' longin' to let my tongue wag raither too free. However, as I was goin' to say, I've been a wanderer since then, goin' where I think I can be o' use to myself or others; and so, as you don't appear to be overly knowin' about the trail across the mountains, I'll go with 'ee a bit o' the way an' pint it out, if you have no objections.”

”No objections!” echoed Will; ”I'll be delighted to have your company, and would be only too glad if you could go all the way.”

”Who knows but I might be willin' to go if I was asked,” said the trapper, with a slight approach to a smile.

”Are you in earnest?” asked Will Big Ben not only admitted that he was in earnest, but said that he was quite ready to start at once, if they would only consent to diverge from their route about thirty miles to a small outpost belonging to the fur-traders, where he had deposited a lot of peltries, which he wished to convert into supplies for the journey.

This was readily agreed to, and, accordingly, next day about noon, they came in sight of Rocky Mountain Fort--so-called because of its being situated in a somewhat wild glen, near the verge of one of the eastern spurs of the Rocky Mountains.

While the fort was still far distant, though in sight, Larry O'Hale uttered a sudden exclamation, and pointed to a black spot lying on the side of one of the numerous mounds with which the country was diversified.

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