Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains > This page
The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 27. More Food For The Camp |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. MORE FOOD FOR THE CAMP For it was nearly day, and Bart jumped up, astonished that he could have slept so long--that is to say, nearly since sundown on the previous evening. A good fire was burning, and buffalo steaks were sizzling and spurting ready for their repast, while the horses were all standing together beneath a little bold bluff of land left sharp and clear by the action of a stream that doubtless flowed swiftly enough in flood time, but was now merely a thread of water. The party were settling down to their meal, for which, in spite of the previous evening's performance, Bart felt quite ready, when the horses suddenly began to snort and show a disposition to make a stampede, for there was a rushing noise as of thunder somewhere on ahead, and as the Indians rushed to their horses' heads, and he made for Black Boy, thinking that there must be a flood rolling down from the hills, he caught a glimpse of what was amiss. For, as Bart stood up, he could see over the edge of the scarped bank beneath which they had made their fire, that the plain was literally alive with bison, which, in some mad insensate fit of dread, were in headlong flight, and their course would bring them right over the spot where the party was encamped. The Beaver saw it, and, prompt in action, he made his plans:--Signing to several to come to his side, while the rest held the horses, he leaped upon the edge of the stream bed just as the bison were within a hundred yards, and Bart and Joses followed him. Then altogether, as the huge herd was about to sweep over them, they uttered a tremendous shout, and all fired together right in the centre of the charging herd. Bart set his teeth, feeling sure that he would be run down and trampled to death; but the effect of the sudden and bold attack was to make the herd separate. It was but a mere trifle, for the bison were so packed together that their movements were to a great extent governed by those behind; but still they did deviate a little, those of the front rank swerving in two bodies to right and left, and that saved the little party. Bart had a sort of confused idea of being almost crushed by shaggy quarters, of being in the midst of a sea of tossing horns and dark hair, with lurid eyes glaring at him; then the drove was sweeping on--some leaping down into the stream bed and climbing up the opposite side, others literally tumbling down headlong, to be trampled upon by those which followed; and then the rushing noise began to die away, for the herd had swept on, and the traces they had left were the trampled ground and a couple of their number shot dead by the discharge of rifles, and lying in the river bed, while another had fallen a few hundred yards farther on in the track of the flight. Fortunately the horses had been held so closely up to the bluff that they had escaped, though several of the bison had been forced by their companions to the edge, and had taken the leap, some ten feet, into the river bed below. It had been a hard task, though, to hold the horses--the poor creatures shivering with dread, and fighting hard to get free. The worst part of the adventure revealed itself to Bart a few moments later when he turned to look for Joses, whom he found rubbing his head woefully beside the traces of their fire, over which the bison had gone in enormous numbers, with the result that the embers had been scattered, and every scrap of the delicious, freshly-roasted, well-browned meat trampled into the sand. "Never mind, Joses," cried Bart, bursting out laughing; "there's plenty more meat cut up." "Plenty more," growled Joses; "and that all so nicely done. Oh, the wilful, wasteful beasts! As if there wasn't room enough anywhere else on the plain without their coming right over us!" "What does the Beaver mean?" said Bart just then. "Mean? Yes; I might have known as much. He thinks there's Injun somewhere; that they have been hunting the buffler and made 'em stampede. We shall have to be off, my lad. No breakfast this morning." It was as Joses said. The Beaver was of opinion that enemies must be near at hand, so he sent out scouts to feel for the danger, and no fire could be lighted lest it should betray their whereabouts to a watchful foe. A long period of crouching down in the stream bed ensued, and as Bart waited he could not help thinking that their hiding-place in the plain was, as it were, a beginning of a canyon like that by the mountain, and might, in the course of thousands of years, be cut down by the action of flowing water till it was as wide and deep. At last first one and then another scout came in, unable to find a trace of enemies; and thus encouraged, a fire was once more made and meat cooked, while the three bison slain that morning were skinned and their better portions cut away. The sun was streaming down with all its might as they once more went off over the plain in search of the herd; and this search was soon rewarded, the party separating, leaving Bart, and Joses together to ride after a smaller herd about a mile to their left. As they rode nearer, to Bart's great surprise, the herd did not take flight, but huddled together, with a number of bulls facing outwards, presenting their horns to their enemies, tossing and shaking their shaggy heads, and pawing up the ground. "Why don't they rush off, Joses?" asked Bart. "Got cows and calves inside there, my boy," replied the frontiersman. "They can't go fast, so the bulls have stopped to take care of them." "Then it would be a shame to shoot them," cried Bart. "Why, they are braver than I thought for." "Not they," laughed Joses. "Not much pluck in a bison, my lad, that I ever see. Why, you might walk straight up to them if you liked, and they'd never charge you." "I shouldn't like to try them," said Bart, laughing. "Why not, my lad?" "Why not? Do you suppose I want to be trampled down and tossed?" "Look here, Master Bart. You'll trust me, won't you?" "Yes, Joses." "You know I wouldn't send you into danger, don't you?" "Of course, Joses." "Then look here, my lad. I'm going to give you a lesson, if you'll learn it." "A lesson in what?" asked Bart. "In buffler, my lad." "Very well, go on; I'm listening. I want to learn all I can about them," replied Bart, as he kept on closely watching the great, fierce, fiery-eyed bison bulls, as they stamped and snorted and pawed the ground, and kept making feints of dashing at their approaching enemies, who rode towards them at a good pace. "I don't want you to listen, my lad," said Joses; "I want you to get down and walk right up to the buffler bulls there, and try and lay hold of their horns." "Walk up to them?" cried Bart. "Why, I was just thinking that if we don't turn and gallop off, they'll trample us down." "Not they, my lad," replied Joses. "I know 'em better than that." "Why, they rushed right over us at the camp." "Yes, because they were on the stampede, and couldn't stop themselves. If they had seen us sooner they'd have gone off to the right, or left. As for those in front, if they charge, it will be away from where they can see a man." "But if I got down and walked towards them, the bulls would come at me," cried Bart. "Not they, I tell you, my lad; and I should like to see you show your pluck by getting down and walking up to them. It would be about the best lesson in buffler you ever had." "But they might charge me, Joses," said Bart, uneasily. "Did I tell you right about 'em before," said Joses, "or did I tell you wrong, my lad?" "You told me right; but you might be wrong about them here." "You let me alone for that," replied Joses, gruffly. "I know what I'm saying. Now, then, will you get down and walk up to 'em, or must I?" "If you'll tell me that I may do such a thing, I'll go up to them," said Bart, slowly. "Then I do tell you, my lad, and wouldn't send you if it wasn't safe. You ought to know that. Now, then, will you go?" For answer Bart slipped off his horse and cocked his rifle. "Don't shoot till they're turning round, my lad," said Joses; "and then give it to that big young bull in the middle there. He's a fine one, and we must have meat for the camp." "But it seems a pity; he looks such a brave fellow," said Bart. "Never mind; shoot him. All the other bulls will be precious glad, for he's the tyrant of the herd, and leads them a pretty life. Now then, on you go." They were now some sixty yards from the herd, and no sooner did Bart take a step forward than Joses leaped lightly from his horse, and rested his rifle over the saddle ready for a sure shot when he should see his chance. Bart tried to put on a bold front, but he felt very nervous, and walked cautiously towards the herd, where ten or a dozen bulls faced him, and now seemed to be furious, snorting and stamping with rage. But he walked on, gaining courage as he went, but ere he had gone half-a-dozen steps six of the bulls made a headlong charge at him, and Bart stood still, ready to fire. "How stupid I was," he said to himself. "They'll go right over me;" and with his heart beating heavily he felt that he must turn and run. "Go on, my lad, go on," shouted Joses, encouragingly; and in spite of himself, and as if bound to obey orders, the lad took a step forward again, when, to his utter amazement, the bison bulls, now not twenty yards away, stopped short, shook their heads at him, made some impotent tosses in the air, pawed up a little grass, and then turned altogether, and trotted back to take up their old position in front of the herd. "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Joses, behind him. "What did I tell you? Go on, my lad. You've got more heart than a bison." This emboldened Bart, who went steadily on, reducing the distance between him and the herd; and it was a curious sensation that which came upon the lad as he walked nearer and nearer to the furious-looking beasts. Then his heart gave a tremendous throb, and seemed to stand still, for, without warning, and moved as if by one impulse, the bison charged again, but this time not half the distance; and as Bart did not run from them, they evidently thought that some one ought to flee, so they galloped back. Bart was encouraged now, and began to feel plenty of contempt for the monsters, and walking more swiftly, the beasts charged twice more, the last time only about the length of their bodies, and this was when Bart was so near that he could almost feel their hot moist breath. This was the last charge, for as they turned the leading bull evidently communicated his opinion that the young visitor was a stupid kind of being, whom it was impossible to frighten, and the whole herd set off at a lumbering gallop, but as they did so two rifle-shots rang out, and two bulls hung back a little, evidently wounded. Joses led up Bart's horse as the lad reloaded, and put the rein in his hand. "There, off after your own bull, my lad. It was bravely done. I'm off after mine." Then they separated, and after a short, gallop Bart reached his quarry, and better able now to manage his task, he rode up on its right side, and a well-placed bullet tumbled the monstrous creature over on the plain dead. Joses had to give two shots before he disabled his own bison, but the run was very short; and when Bart and he looked round they were not above a couple of hundred yards apart, and the Beaver and a couple of Indians were cantering towards them. That evening their messengers returned with a couple of the white men and two waggons, which were taken in triumph next morning to the camp, heavily laden with bison-meat; and as they came near the mountain, Bart drew rein to stay and watch the curious sight before him, for, evidently in pursuance of the Doctor's idea to make the top of the mountain the stronghold of the silver adventurers, there was quite a crowd of the people toiling up the path up the mountain, all laden with packages and the various stores that had been brought for the adventure. "Been pretty busy since we've been gone, Master Bart," said Joses, grimly. "Won't they come scuffling down again when they know there's meat ready for sharing out." But Joses was wrong, for the meat was not shared out down in the plain, but a second relay of busy hands were set to work to carry the store of fresh food right up the mountain-side to a tent that had already been pitched on the level top, while as soon as the waggons were emptied they were drawn up in rank along with the others close beneath the wall-like rock. _ |
||