Part 1 (1/2)
Adventures in the Far West.
by W.H.G. Kingston.
CHAPTER ONE.
”I say, didn't you hear a cry?” exclaimed Charley Fielding, starting up from the camp fire at which we were seated discussing our evening meal of venison, the result of our day's hunting. He leaned forward in the att.i.tude of listening. ”I'm sure I heard it! There it is again, but whether uttered by Redskin or four-footed beast is more than I can say.”
We all listened, but our ears were not as sharp as Charley's, for we could hear nothing.
”Sit down, Charley, my boy, and finish your supper. It was probably fancy, or maybe the hoot of an owl to its mate,” said our jovial companion, d.i.c.k Buntin, who never allowed any matter to disturb him, if he could help it, while engaged in stowing away his food.
d.i.c.k had been a lieutenant in the navy, and had knocked about the world in all climes, and seen no small amount of service. He had lately joined our party with Charley Fielding, a fatherless lad whom he had taken under his wing.
We, that is Jack Story and myself, Tom Rushforth, had come out from England together to the far west, to enjoy a few months' buffalo hunting, deer stalking, grizzly and panther shooting, and beaver trapping, not to speak of the chances of an occasional brush with the Redskins, parties of whom were said to be on the war-path across the regions it was our intention to traverse, though none of us were inclined to be turned aside by the warnings we had received to that effect from our friends down east.
We had been pus.h.i.+ng on further and further west, gaining experience, and becoming inured to the fatigues and dangers of a hunter's life. Having traversed Missouri and Kansas, though we had hitherto met with no adventures worthy of note, we had that evening pitched our camp in the neighbourhood of Smoky-hill fork, the waters of which, falling into the Arkansas, were destined ultimately to reach the far-off Mississippi.
We had furnished ourselves with a stout horse apiece, and four mules to carry our stores, consisting of salt pork, beans, biscuit, coffee, and a few other necessaries, besides our spare guns, ammunition, and the meat and skins of the animals we might kill.
Having, a little before sunset, fixed on a spot for our camp, with a stream on one side, and on the other a wood, which would afford us fuel and shelter from the keen night air which blew off the distant mountains, we had unsaddled and unpacked our horses and mules, the packs being placed so as to form a circular enclosure about eight paces in diameter.
Our first care had been to water and hobble our animals, and then to turn them loose to graze, when we considered ourselves at liberty to attend to our own wants. Having collected a quant.i.ty of dry sticks, we had lighted our fire in the centre of the circle, filled our water-kettle, and put on our meat to cook. Our next care had been to arrange our sleeping places. For this purpose we cut a quant.i.ty of willows which grew on the banks of the stream hard by, and we each formed a semi-circular hut, by sticking the extremities of the osier twigs into the ground, and bending them over so as to form a succession of arches. These were further secured by weaving a few flexible twigs along the top and sides of the framework, thus giving it sufficient stability to support the saddle-cloths and skins with which we covered them. By placing our buffalo-robes within, we had thus a comfortable and warm bed-place apiece, and were better protected from the fiercest storm raging without than we should have been inside a tent or ordinary hut.
Though this was our usual custom when materials were to be found, when not, we were content to wrap ourselves in our buffalo-robes, with our saddles for pillows.
All arrangements having been made, we sat down with keen appet.i.tes, our backs to our respective huts, to discuss the viands which had been cooking during the operations I have described. d.i.c.k Buntin, who generally performed the office of cook, had concocted a pot of coffee, having first roasted the berries in the lid of our saucepan, and then, wrapping them in a piece of deer-skin, had pounded them on a log with the head of a hatchet. d.i.c.k was about to serve out the smoking-hot coffee when Charley's exclamation made him stop to reply while he held the pot in his hand.
”I am sure I did hear a strange sound, and it was no owl's hoot, of that I am convinced,” said Charley, still standing up, and peering out over the dark prairie. ”Just keep silence for a few minutes, and you'll hear it too before long.”
I listened, and almost directly afterwards a low mournful wail, wafted on the breeze, struck my ear. d.i.c.k and Story also acknowledged that they heard the sound.
”I knew I was not mistaken,” said Charley; ”what can it be?”
”An owl, or some other night-bird, as I at first thought,” said Buntin.
”Come, hand me your mugs, or I shall have to boil up the coffee again.”
Charley resumed his seat, and we continued the pleasant occupation in which we were engaged. Supper over, we crept into our sleeping-places, leaving our fire blazing, not having considered it necessary as yet to keep watch at night.
We were generally, directly after we had stretched ourselves on the ground, fast asleep, for we rose at break of day, and sometimes even before it; but ere I had closed my eyes, I again heard, apparently coming from far off, the same sound which had attracted Charley's notice. It appeared to me more like the howl of a wolf than the cry of a night-bird, but I was too sleepy to pay any attention to it.
How long I had been in a state of unconsciousness I could not tell, when I was aroused by a chorus of howls and yelps, and, starting up, I saw a number of animals with glaring eyes almost in our very midst.
”Wolves, wolves!” I cried, calling to my companions at the top of my voice.
Before I could draw my rifle out of the hut, where I had placed it by my side, one of the brutes had seized on a large piece of venison, suspended at the end of a stick to keep it off the ground, and had darted off with it, while the depredators were searching round for other articles into which they could fix their fangs.
Our appearance greatly disconcerted them, as we shouted in chorus, and turning tail they began to decamp as fast as their legs would carry them.
”Bring down that fellow with the venison,” I cried out.
Charley, who had been most on the alert, had his rifle ready, and, firing, brought down the thief. Another of the pack instantly seized the meat and made off with it in spite of the shouts we sent after him.