Part 1 (2/2)

The wolves lost three of their number, but the rest got off with the venison in triumph. It was a lesson to us to keep a watch at night, and more carefully to secure our venison. We had, however, a portion remaining to serve us for breakfast next morning.

We took good care not to let the wolves get into our camp again, but we heard the brutes howling around and quarrelling over the carcase of one of their companions, who had been shot but had not immediately dropped.

Having driven off our unwelcome visitors, Charley and I went in search of our horses, as we were afraid they might have been attacked. They were, however, well able to take care of themselves and had made their way to the border of the stream, where we found them safe.

In the meantime Buntin and Story dragged the carcases of the wolves we had killed to a distance from the camp, as their skins were not worth preserving. We all then met round the camp fire, but we soon found that to sleep was impossible, for the wolves, having despatched their wounded companions, came back to feast on the others we had shot. We might have killed numbers while so employed, but that would have only detained them longer in our neighbourhood, and we hoped when they had picked the bones of their friends that they would go away and leave us in peace.

We all wished to be off as soon as possible, so while it was still dark we caught and watered our horses; and, having cast off their hobbles and loaded the pack animals, we were in the saddle by sunrise. We rode on for several hours, and then encamped for breakfast, allowing our horses to graze while we went on foot in search of game. We succeeded in killing a couple of deer and a turkey, so that we were again amply supplied with food. Our baggage-mules being slow but sure-going animals we were unable to make more than twenty miles a day, though at a pinch we could accomplish thirty. We had again mounted and were moving forward. The country was covered with tall gra.s.s, five and sometimes eight feet in height, over which we could scarcely look even when on horseback. We had ridden about a couple of miles from our last camping-place, when Story, the tallest of our party, exclaimed--

”I see some objects moving to the northward. They look to me like mounted men, and are apparently coming in this direction.”

He unslung his gla.s.s, while we all pulled up and took a look in the direction he pointed.

”Yes, I thought so,” he exclaimed; ”they are Indians, though, as there are not many of them, they are not likely to attack us; but we must be on our guard, notwithstanding.”

We consulted what was best to be done.

”Ride steadily in the direction we are going,” said d.i.c.k; ”and, by showing that we are not afraid of them, when they see our rifles they will probably sheer off, whatever may be their present intentions. But keep together, my lads, and let nothing tempt us to separate.”

We followed d.i.c.k's advice; indeed, although we had no ostensible leader, he always took the post on an emergency.

The strangers approached, moving considerably faster than we were doing.

As they drew nearer, Story, who took another view of them through his gla.s.s, announced that there were two white men of the party, thus dispelling all fears we might have entertained of an encounter. We therefore pulled up to wait their arrival. As they got still nearer to us, one of the white men rode forward. He was followed by several dogs.

Suddenly d.i.c.k, who had been regarding him attentively, exclaimed--

”What, Harry Armitage, my dear fellow! What has brought you here?”

”A question much easier asked than answered, and I'll put the same to you,” said the stranger, shaking hands.

”I came out for a change of scene, and to get further from the ocean than I have ever before been in my life; and now let me introduce you to my friends,” said d.i.c.k. The usual forms were gone through. Mr Armitage then introduced his companion as Pierre Buffet, one of the best hunters and trappers throughout the continent. The Indians, he said, had been engaged by Pierre and himself to act as guides and scouts, and to take care of the horses and baggage-mules. As our objects were the same, before we had ridden very far we agreed to continue together, as we should thus, in pa.s.sing through territories infested by hostile Indians, be the better able to defend ourselves.

We had reason, before long, to be thankful that our party had thus been strengthened. We encamped as usual; and, not forgetting the lesson we had lately received, we set a watch so that we should not be surprised, either by wolves or Redskins. Though the former were heard howling in the distance, we were not otherwise disturbed by them, and at dawn we were once more in our saddles traversing the wide extending prairie, our new a.s.sociates and we exchanging accounts of the various adventures we had met with. Armitage was not very talkative, but d.i.c.k managed to draw him out more than could any of the rest of the party. Buffet, in his broken English, talked away sufficiently to make ample amends for his employer's taciturnity. Our midday halt was over, and we did not again intend to encamp until nightfall, at a spot described by Buffet on the banks of a stream which ran round a rocky height on the borders of the prairie. It was, however, some distance off, and we did not expect to reach it until later in the day than usual.

We were riding on, when I saw one of the Indians standing up in his stirrups and looking to the northeast. Presently he called to Buntin and pointed in the same direction. The words uttered were such as to cause us no little anxiety. The prairie was on fire. The sharp eyes of the Indian had distinguished the wreaths of smoke which rose above the tall gra.s.s, and which I should have taken for a thick mist or cloud gathering in the horizon. The wind blew from the same quarter.

”Messieurs, we must put our horses to their best speed,” exclaimed Pierre. ”If the wind gets up, that fire will come on faster than we can go, and we shall all be burnt into cinders if once overtaken.”

”How far off is it?” asked d.i.c.k. ”Maybe eight or ten miles, but that is as nothing. It will travel five or six miles in the hour, even with this wind blowing--and twice as fast before a gale. On, on, messieurs, there is no time to talk about the matter, for between us and where the flames now rage, there is nothing to stop their progress.”

We needed no further urging, but driving on the mules with shouts and blows--as we had no wish to abandon them if it could be avoided--we dashed on. Every now and then I looked back to observe the progress of the conflagration. Dark wreaths were rising higher and higher in the sky, and below them forked flames ever and anon darted up as the fire caught the more combustible vegetation. Borne by the wind, light powdery ashes fell around us, while we were sensible of a strong odour of burning, which made it appear as if the enemy was already close at our heels. The gra.s.s on every side was too tall and dry to enable us-- as is frequently done under such circ.u.mstances, by setting fire to the herbage--to clear a s.p.a.ce in which we could remain while the conflagration pa.s.sed by.

Our only chance of escaping was by pus.h.i.+ng forward. On neither side did Pierre or the Indians know of any spot where we could take refuge nearer than the one ahead. Every instant the smoke grew thicker, and we could hear the roaring, crackling, rus.h.i.+ng sound of the flames, though still, happily for us, far away. Prairie-hens, owls, and other birds would flit by, presently followed by numerous deer and buffalo; while whole packs of wolves rushed on regardless of each other and of us, prompted by instinct to make their escape from the apprehended danger. Now a bear who had been foraging on the plain ran by, eager to seek his mountain home; and I caught sight of two or more panthers springing over the ground at a speed which would secure their safety. Here and there small game scampered along, frequently meeting the death they were trying to avoid, from the feet of the larger animals; snakes went wriggling among the gra.s.s, owls hooted, wolves yelped, and other animals added their cries to the terror-prompted chorus. Our chance of escaping with our baggage-mules seemed small indeed. The hot air struck our cheeks, as we turned round every now and then to see how near the fire had approached. The dogs kept up bravely at the feet of their masters'

horse.

”If we are to save our own skins, we must abandon our mules,” cried out d.i.c.k Buntin in a voice such as that with which he was wont to hail the main-top.

”No help for it, I fear,” answered Armitage; ”what do you say, Pierre?”

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