Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 5

toward whar the gals war singin'. (Jist put a little fodder on the fire.)"

I sprang up and threw on some f.a.gots, and then seated myself and anxiously awaited the rest of his story. He put away his pipe, filled his mouth with tobacco, and, after several annoying delays, resumed:

"Thar weren't no time to lose. I crept 'long behind him mighty sly, and afore he knowed it, come down _spank_ onto him. I didn't make no noise nor he either. I jist grabbed his gullet and finished him with my knife. I then crawled back agin, and, shoot me, ef I didn't see forty logs comin' down on us; the river war full of 'em.

"I jumped up and hollered to the other fellers to look out. They came up aside me and stood ready, but it weren't no use. 'Fore we knowed it, I seed over forty of 'em 'long 'side us. We blazed into 'em and went to usin' our knives, but I knowed it wouldn't do. They set up a yell and pitched fur the wagons, while 'bout a dozen went at us. The fust thing I knowed the whole four boys were down and thar ha'r raised, and the women screechin' murder. It made me desprit, and I reckon I done some tall work that night. Most these beauty spots on my mug come from that scrimmage. I seed a red dart by me with that little gal as was singin', and cotched a dead red's gun and let drive at him; but the gun weren't loaded, and so the devil run off with her.

"The oxes war bellerin', the horses snortin', and the tomahawks stoppin' the women's screams; the redskins war howlin' and yellin'

like all mad, and as I had got some big cuts and knocks, I 'cluded it best to move quarters. So I made a jump for the stream, took a long dive, and swam for the sh.o.r.e. I come up 'bout whar you're setting, and I made a heap of tracks 'fore daylight come."

"And did you never hear anything of the children captured upon that night?"

"I never seed 'em agin; but I come 'cross a chap at Fort Laramie when I went down agin, what said he'd seen a gal 'mong some the redskins up in these parts, and I've thought p'r'aps it mought be one of 'em, and agin it moughtn't."

"Did you say that all happened out there?" asked Nat, jerking his thumb toward the island mentioned, without turning his face.

"I reckon I did."

"Bet there's a lot of Injins there now!" exclaimed he, turning his head in that direction.

"Jist as like as not," returned Biddon, with a sly look at me.

"I'm goin' to sleep then," and rolling himself up in his buffalo-blanket, all but his feet, disappeared from view.

"It's 'bout time to snooze, I think," remarked the trapper, in a lower tone, turning toward me.

"I think so, but I suppose there need be no apprehension of molestation from Injins, need there?"

Biddon looked at me a moment; then one side of his mouth expanded into a broad grin, and he quietly remarked:

"Times are different from what they used to war."

"Biddon," said I, after a moment's silence, "before we saw you we camped upon one side of a stream while you were upon the other. Now, I do not suppose you would willfully harm a stranger; but since I have met you, I have a great desire to know why you fired that shot at Nat.

You supposed we were Indians, I presume?"

A quiet smile illumined the trapper's swarthy visage; and, after waiting a moment, he answered:

"The way on it war this: I seed you and Nat camping there, and I s'pected you war gwine to tramp these parts. I watched you awhile, and was gwine to sing out for you to come over. Then said I, 'Biddon, you dog, ain't there a chance to give them a powerful scare.' First I drawed bead on you, but when that Nat jumped up, I let fly at him, and he kerflummuxed splendid. Howsumever, it's time to snooze, and I'm in for it."

With this, we wrapped our blankets around us, and in a few moments were asleep.

On a clear summer morning, we sallied out upon the broad, open prairie again. The trapper now struck a direction nearly due northwest toward the Black Hills, and we proceeded with greater speed than before. The face of the country began to change materially. Vast groves of timber met the eye, and the soil became rich and productive. At noon we encountered the most immense drove of buffaloes that I ever witnessed.

They were to the west of us, and proceeding in a southern direction, cropping the gra.s.s clean as they went. Far away, as far as the vision could reach, nothing but a sea of black moving bodies could be distinguished. I mounted a small knoll to ascertain the size of the drove; but only gained a clearer idea of their enormous number. The whole western horizon, from the extreme northwest to the southwest, was occupied solely by them, and nothing else met the eye. They were not under way, and yet the whole ma.s.s was moving slowly onward. The head buffaloes would seize a mouthful of gra.s.s, and then move on a few feet and grasp another. Those behind did the same, and the whole number were proceeding in this manner. This constant change of their position gave an appearance to them, as viewed from my standing-point, similar to the long heaving of the sea after a violent storm. It was truly a magnificent spectacle.

We approached within a short distance. They were more scattered upon the outside, and with a little trouble the trapper managed to insinuate himself among them. His object was to drive off a cow which had a couple of half-grown calves by her side, but they took the alarm too soon, and rushed off into the drove. We then prepared to bring down one apiece. I selected an enormous bull, and sighted for his head. I approached nigh enough to make my aim sure, and fired. The animal raised his head, his mouth full of gra.s.s, and glaring at me a moment, gave a snort of alarm and plunged headlong away into the droves. At the same instant I heard Nat's rifle beside me, and a moment after that of the trapper. This gave the alarm to the herd.

Those near us uttered a series of snorts, and dropping their bushy heads, bowled off at a terrific rate. The motion was rapidly communicated to the others, and in a few seconds the whole eastern side was rolling simultaneously onward, like the violent countercurrent of the sea. The air was filled with such a vast cloud of dust that the sun's light was darkened, and for a time it seemed we should suffocate. We remained in our places for over an hour, when the last of these prairie monsters thundered by. A strong wind carried the dust off to the west, and we were at last in clear air again. Yet our appearance was materially changed, for a thin veil of yellow dust had settled over and completely enveloped us, and we were like walking figures of clay.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Gave a snort of alarm and plunged headlong away into the droves."]

I looked away in the direction of the herd, expecting to see my buffalo's lifeless form, but was considerably chagrined at my disappointment, as was also Nat at his. The trapper's was a dozen yards from where it had been struck.

"'Pears to me," said he with a sly smile, "I heer'n your dogs bark, but I don't see nothin' of no buffaloes, ogh!"

"I _hit_ mine," I answered quickly; "I am sure of it."

"Whereabouts?"

"In the head, plump and square."

"Whar'd you sight yourn, Greeny?"

"Just back the horns, and I hit him too. If he hasn't dropped before this, I'll bet he'll have the headache for a week."

"B'ars and beavers, you! Them bufflers didn't mind your shots more nor a couple of hailstones. Do you see whar I picked mine?" asked the trapper, pulling the buffalo's fore-leg forward, and disclosing the track of the bullet behind it.

"Isn't a shot in the head fatal?" I asked in astonishment.

"You might hit 'em thar with a cannon-ball, and they'd git up and run agin, and ef you'd pepper 'em all day whar you did yourn, you'd pick the bullets out thar ha'r and they wouldn't mind it."

This I afterward found to be true. No shot, however well aimed, can reach the seat of life in the buffalo through the head, unless it enter the eye, fair front.[1]

[1] I may further remark, that the buffalo slain by us when lost upon the prairie, was shot in the side as he wheeled, to run from us, without our suspecting it was the only place in which we could have given him a mortal wound.

The trapper's buffalo was thrown forward upon his face, his legs bent beneath him, and dressed after the usual fas.h.i.+on. He was in good condition, and we had a rich feast upon his carca.s.s. The trapper selected a few choice portions from the inside, relished only by himself, and cutting several huge pieces for future use, the rest was left for the beasts of prey.

We proceeded but a few miles further, and encamped upon the banks of the Dry Fork. This is a small stream, a few miles south of the Black Hills. There was but a foot or two of sluggish water, and in the hot season it was often perfectly dry. Here for the first time I was made aware of the changeable character of the climate in this lat.i.tude. The weather, thus far, had been remarkably clear and fine, and at noon we found the weather sometimes oppressively warm. Toward night the wind veered around to the northwest, and grew colder. At nightfall, when we kindled our fire, the air was so chilly and cutting that Nat and I were in a s.h.i.+ver. Had it not been for our blankets we should have suffered considerably, though Biddon did not call his into requisition. There were a number of cottonwood trees near at hand, which served partly to screen us from the blast.

After our evening meal had been cooked, Biddon remarked:

"The fire must go out, boys."

"Why? Do you apprehend danger?" I asked.

"Don't know as I do; I hain't seed signs, but we're gittin' into parts whar we've got to be summat skeerish."

"I suppose it's about time for the Indians to come?" remarked Nat interrogatively, with a look of fear toward the trapper.

"They're 'bout these parts. Me'n Jack Javin once got into a scrimmage yer with 'em, when we didn't 'spect it, and jist 'cause we let our fire burn while we snoozed. I'd seen sign though then, and wanted to put it out, but he wan't afeared."

"Let's have ours out then," exclaimed Nat excitedly, springing up and scattering the brands around.

"Needn't mind 'bout that; it'll go out soon enough."

As Nat reseated himself, Biddon continued:

"You see, Ja.r.s.ey, them reds kin smell a white man's fire a good way off, and on sich a night as this, ef they're 'bout they'll be bound to give him a call. You needn't be afeared, howsumever, to snooze, 'cause they won't be 'bout."

It was too cold to enjoy our pipes, and we all bundled up for the night's rest. In a few moments I heard the trapper's deep breathing, and shortly after Nat joined him in sleep. But I found it impossible to get to sleep myself. The ground was so cold that my blanket could not protect me, and the cutting wind was terrible. I used every means that I could devise, but it was of no use, and I feared I should be compelled to either build the fire again, or to continue walking all night to prevent freezing to death.