Chapter Second.
The Journey. Encampment. Buffalo hunt. Anne and Edward lost. Theydiscover an old fort. Fight with a Wolf. Take refuge in a Tree. Rescuedby Howe and Lewis. Return to the Camp.
Mr. Duncan chose the trader's route to Oregon as the one most likely tolead him to his desired haven. He was familiar with this route, havingfrequently made it some years before. To Andy Howe, every rock, tree,and river, was like the face of a friend so often had he passed them.Mrs. Duncan had no misgivings when they entered on the forest. She hadso often heard the different scenes and places described as torecognize the locality through which they passed, and with perfectconfidence in the forest craft of her brother and husband, she gaveherself no trouble, save that of making her family as comfortable andpleasant as circumstances would allow.
No incident disturbed their journey, worthy of note, day after day asthey easily moved along. It was not Mr. Duncan's policy to exhaust histeams at the outset by long weary marches; but like a skilful general,husband his strength, in case of emergencies. The road was smooth andlevel, being generally over large extended prairies.
The fifth day out they crossed the Kansas, when the country became morebroken, and they saw the first buffalo on their route, which Lewis hadthe good luck to kill. With the aid of Howe it was cut up and thechoicest parts brought to camp. Never was a supper enjoyed with morezest than that night. Delicious steaming beef stakes, wheat cakes,butter, cheese, new milk and tea, spread out on a snow white cloth, ontheir temporary table, to which they had converted two boards bynailing sheets across the back, and resting each end on a camp stool,made a feast worth travelling a few days into the wilderness to enjoy.
Their camp was pitched for the night on the mossy bank of a smallstream, overshadowed by large cotton-woods through which the starspeered, and the new moon with its silvery crescent gleamed faintly asthe shadows of evening closed around them.
After night fall the party was thrown into quite an excitement by theapproach of figures which they supposed to be Indians, but which turnedout to be a herd of deer feeding. Howe laughed heartily at the fright,for the Indians were to him as brothers. His father had been known andloved for many acts of kindness to them, and had been dignified as thegreat _Medicine_.[1] Accompanying his father on his trapping excursions,while still a boy, he had spent many a day and night in their wigwams,partaking of their hospitality, contending with the young braves intheir games, and very often joining them in their hunts among themountains. Hostile and cruel they might be to others, but Howe wasconfident that he and those with him would meet with nothing butkindness at their hands.
[1] A name applied by the Indians to their benefactors.
Antelopes were now seen often, and sometimes numerous buffalo; butnothing of importance had been killed for two days. The morning of thetwenty-fifth dawned clear and beautiful. Howe and Lewis brought thehorses, and with Sidney mounted on a fleet mule, the three set out on ahunt. They had been tempted to this by a moving mass of life over theplain against the horizon, that resembled a grove of trees waving inthe wind, to all but a practised eye; but which the hunters declared tobe a herd of buffalo. Such a sight creates a strange emotion ofgrandeur, and there was not one of the party but felt his heart beatquicker at the sight. The herds were feeding, and were every where inconstant motion. Clouds of dust rose from various parts of the bands,each the scene of some obstinate fight. Here and there a huge bull wasrolling in the grass. There were eight or nine hundred buffaloes in theherd. Riding carelessly the hunters came within two hundred yards ofthem before their approach was discovered, when a wavering motion amongthem, as they started in a gallop for the hills, warned them to closein the pursuit. They were now gaining rapidly on them, and the interestof the chase became absorbingly intense.
A crowd of bulls brought up the rear, turning every few moments to facetheir pursuers, as if they had a mind to turn and fight, then dashed onagain after the band. When at twenty yards distant the hunters brokewith a sudden rush into the herd, the living mass giving away on allsides in their heedless career. They separated on entering, each oneselecting his own game. The sharp crack of the rifle was heard, andwhen the smoke and dust, which for a moment blinded them, had clearedaway, three fine cows were rolling in the sand. At that moment fourfierce bulls charged on Sidney, goring his mustang in a frightfulmanner, and would probably have terminated his hunting career, had notthe sudden shock of the onset thrown him some distance over hismustang's head. He was not much hurt, and before the buffaloes couldattack him again, they were put to flight by Howe and Lewis. Onexamining the animal they soon saw he could not live, and shot him toend his suffering.
This they felt was an unlucky incident, and with saddened hearts turnedtheir faces campward, which on reaching they found in consternation atthe prolonged absence of Edward and Anne. They had gone out a fewmoments after the hunters, Edward to fish in the brook by which theyhad encamped, and Anne to gather curious plants and flowers, of whichshe was passionately fond. Mr. Duncan had been in search of them andcame up as the hunters were dismounting.
"Have you found them?" was asked by every one in a moment, as he cameup.
"No! but I found this, and this, about two miles down the stream," saidhe, holding up a fading wreath of wild flowers, and the skeleton of afish that Edward had evidently cut away to bait his hook with.
"It is now nearly noon, and by the looks of that fish and thoseflowers, they have laid in the sun three hours. Give us a lunch, Mary,and now for the dogs, Lewis. No time is to be lost," said Howe.
"I fear the worst," said the father; "I saw signs of Indians."
"What were they?" quickly asked the Trapper.
"A raft on the opposite bank of the stream."
"They will bring them back, if they have taken them," said Howe, towhich the surmise was not new, for it had occurred to him the moment hefound the children were gone, but did not like to say so, lest heshould raise an unnecessary alarm, But there was no outcry, nolamentation or dismay, though all was bustle and hurry. They knew itwas time to act, not to spend their time in useless sorrow.
"Bring up two mules," said Howe, filling his pockets with bread andcheese, which he told Lewis to do also, "for," said he, "we may notcome in to supper, certainly not unless we find them."
"I will go with you," said the father.
"And I," said Sidney, decidedly.
"No: a sufficient force is necessary here; you will take care of thecamp, and if you hear the report of three guns in succession, bring thehorses, which must be fed immediately," said the Trapper. "But, if wedo not have to go a long distance, the mules will do."
"How will you know whether they are lost or have been carried off bysavages," asked the mother, and though no coward, she shuddered andturned white as she asked the question.
"Easily enough known, when once on the ground. I know the red-skins asthoroughly as I do my rifle. Here Buff, here Lion," cried the Trapper,calling two noble bloodhounds to him--"Now, Mary," he continued, "giveme a pair of Edward's and Anne's shoes, that they have worn." They weregiven him, and taking the hounds by the collar, he made them smell theshoes until they got the scent, then leading them to the bank of thestream pointed to them the tracks made in the morning.
"They have it! they have it!" shouted the family, as the hounds, withtheir noses to the ground, led off in fine style.
"Take Prince and Carl in the leash, Lewis, and fasten it to yoursaddle, then mount and away," cried the Trapper, throwing himself intohis saddle, and giving the mule the spur, he was rapidly following intheir wake.
Two hours passed, when the signals were given for the horses. Sidneysaddled them, took a basket of provisions which Mrs. Duncan had put upwith her usual thoughtfulness for others, and started in the directionfrom which the firing proceeded.
Edward and Anne, in the morning, had followed the course of the streamas far down as their father had traced them, Edward whiling away thetime in drawing the finny tribes from their element, Anne in
weaving inwreaths the gorgeous tinted wild flowers, sweet scented violets, andglossy green of the running pine. The children heeded not time, nor thedistance they were placing between themselves and the camp, butwandered on. The wild birds were trilling the most delicious music,which burst on the ear enchantingly, and was the only sound that brokethe solemn stillness that reigned around, save the soft gurgling of thewater, as it glided over its pebbly bed. The forest was dense, thefoliage above them shielding them from the sun, while the bank wassmooth, mossy, and thickly studded with wild spring flowers, now in allthe luxuriance of their natural loveliness. When they came to the bankof the stream where their father lost their track, they had theircuriosity excited by a grove of willows on the opposite side, in themidst of which they could discern trunks of large trees piled upsystematically, with a quantity of rubbish laying around. Thoughtlesslythey resolved to cross over. The stream was about forty feet wide, butvery shallow, not over three feet deep at any point, and in many placesnot more than two. But in order to get over, it was necessary to make araft. Edward was at no loss how to begin; he had too often seen hisfather make temporary rafts to hesitate. Indeed, he looked upon it as athing too small to be of much importance. Collecting two as largepieces of drift-wood as he could manage, he drew them to the bank,collected fallen limbs and brush wood, laying them across the driftwood, until he found, by walking upon it, that it would sustain theirweight; then seating Anne in the centre, and with a long pole in hishand, placed himself beside her, and with the end of his pole pushingagainst the bank, launched his strange looking craft into the stream,their weight pressing against the water and its density resisting thepressure, kept the raft together. Slowly but securely they moved along;by pressing the pole against the bed of the river he propelled it untilthey finally reached in safety the opposite bank, where, drawing theirraft a little out of water, that it might not float out of their reachinto the stream, they prepared to explore the grove of willows that haddrawn them thither. It was the sight of this raft across the streamthat caused Mr. Duncan's alarm about the Indians.
On entering they found a large space cleared of its primitive growth,in the centre of about three acres, which was slightly overgrown withstunted shrubs, but the willows that formed the grove were of giganticproportions, many of them three and a half, and some four feet indiameter.
In the centre of the clearing, was an immense fort, evidently built ofthe willows that had been felled to clear the space. The logs had beencut, straightened, and made to fit each other, with some sharpinstrument, the corners being smoothly jointed, making the wholestructure solid and impregnable to gun-shot or arrows. What hadevidently been the door was torn away, and lay mouldering on theground. The whole structure was apparently very old, and had been longdeserted. The grass was growing within the enclosure, with weeds andbriers, while the logs that formed it were covered with moss, and werecrumbling to decay.
The children's curiosity was now blended with an absorbing interest,and Anne longed to follow Edward into the enclosure, but hesitateduntil he called out, "Only look! Anne! what can this be?" Thenforgetting all her timidity, she hastened to see what he was draggingout of the rubbish, and as he held it up triumphantly for herinspection, she looked on with wonder and amazement.
"It is a huge plate cover; here is the handle," said Anne, turning itround with eagerness.
"Hardly that," said her brother; "this is two feet across, and ishardly the right thing for a plate cover; it is made of some metal."
"We will take it home," said Anne; "father and uncle Howe will knowwhat it is, don't you think so?"
But Edward was not listening, and did not answer. He was digging downwhere he had found the thing, and came to a quantity of arrow heads,evidently made of the same material as the other, but of what it was hecould not determine. Anne, with a strong stick in her hand, commencedsearching, and soon came upon what they knew to be a stone mortar, forthey had often seen them before.
Anne now began to complain of hunger, and Edward said he would give hera treat, Indian-fashion, to celebrate their arrival into, as hefacetiously said, an Indian palace!
"But what can you give? We brought nothing with us; besides we havebeen out quite as long as we ought to, and had better returnimmediately."
"Oh, no; we have not. You know the camp will not move to-day, and Iintend to make a day's work of it."
"We certainly must return; they will be alarmed about us. Come, let usgo back."
"Not until we have the feast. Now keep quiet, Anne, until that is over,and then I will return with you."
"A funny feast it will be, composed of nothing."
"A finny feast it is to be, composed of fish. Now see how I will make afire." And taking a flint he had found, he struck his pocket knifeblade slant-wise against it, when it emitted sparks of fire inprofusion, which, falling on a sort of dry wood, known to woodmen as"punk wood," set it on fire, which Edward soon blew into a blaze, andby feeding it judiciously a fire was soon crackling and consuming thefuel he had piled on it. In the mean time he had taken the fish he hadcaught, dressed and washed them at the stream, and laying them on thelive coals until one side was done, turned them on the other by the aidof a long stick he had sharpened for the purpose, and when done he tookthem up on its point, and laid them steaming on a handful of leaves hehad collected, and presented them to his sister.
Anne was sure she had never ate fish that tasted so delicious, aconclusion an excellent appetite helped her to arrive at. Edward washighly elated at his success, and laughed and joked over a dinner theyenjoyed with a relish an epicure might covet. There is an old proverbabout stolen waters being sweet; certainly their stolen ramble andimpromptu dinner had a charm which completely blinded them to theirduty to their parents, and even their own safety; for Edward proposedthey should take a short ramble on the other side, where they were totry if they could discover some other ruins like those at the fort, andoverruling the slight opposition Anne made, they gathered up the relicsthey had found, and moved on from the stream towards the deep luringshades, that were the same for many thousand miles, unbroken by thebound of civilization, but bewildering by its still mystic loveliness.
On they went, regardless of taking any notes or landmarks until theexhaustion of Anne warned Edward it was indeed time to return. Changingtheir course for one they mistook for that they had come, they plungeddeeper and deeper at every step into the woods, without discoveringtheir error, until they knew by the distance they had traversed theyought to have reached the old fort: but now it was no where to be seen,neither were there any signs of a river. They wandered to and fro,hoping every moment to make out the true direction to take, yetbecoming more confused and bewildered at every step. Finally, Edwardlaid his ear to the ground, and listening, was sure he heard the faintmurmuring of water. They hastened on towards the direction whence itproceeded, guided by the sound, until, oh joy! a stream burst upontheir sight. Reaching its banks, Edward took his sister in his arms,plunged into the water, and was soon in safety on the opposite shore.He was now in a great quandary, for though he had gained what hesupposed to be the bank he had left, without having lost time inbuilding a raft, yet he knew if he missed his way he would not be ableto gain the camp by sunset, for he saw by the long falling shadows thatthe sun was rapidly descending.
Anne was greatly terrified, and wept bitterly. "Do not grieve," saidEdward, "they will of course miss, and come in search of us, if we donot get home soon. I am very certain we are very near the campalready."
"I am afraid we are lost," Anne replied, sobbing, "and if we are, wemay never get back again!"
"Fie! Anne, don't be a coward, for I am very certain we shall, and thatwithin the hour."
"How can you be certain? you do not even know which direction to take."
"Oh! yes I do: we came south, and of course must go north to get backagain."
"If we only knew which way was north. No stars are to be seen toindicate it."
"Easily enough told,--come, we must
not lose a moment, and as we go Iwill tell you an unmistakable sign."
"Oh! I am so weary I can go no farther," and again the child sobbedbitterly.
"Never mind, I am not tired, and can help you," and passing one armaround her he rendered her great assistance, and again they werehurrying on.
"You observe these trees," said he; "the bark on the side that facesthe way we are going is quite smooth and even, while the opposite sideis rough and the branches jagged. It is always so on forest trees, anda person may rely on this as a natural sign, when he has none other togo by, with perfect security. I have heard uncle Howe and father saythat they have repeatedly lost themselves in the woods, but byfollowing in one direction to a given point they could soon findthemselves again."
"It is getting so very dark. Oh! Edward, what shall we do?"
"The first of every thing we _must_ do is, to keep up our courage."
"Hist! what is that?--There it is again! Oh! Edward, let us run! There!there it is!" screamed the terrified girl.
Edward turned to the direction indicated, and a wolf was crouching withglaring eyes, ready to spring upon them. Edward's only weapon was apocket-knife, one of those long two-edged bladed weapons, so common inthe west; yet he did not despair, but placing Anne behind a large treestationed himself before it, and with his knife open and a huge club heawaited the approach of the wolf.
It soon came. The wolf was lean and desperate, and with a terrificgrowl he bounded forward, but was met by the brave boy, who sprangaside as he came, and before the monster could recover his leap, Edwardhad dealt him several deep and deadly blows. Following up his advantagehe sprang at the wolf with his knife, plunging it again and again inhis side. The brute feeling he was being conquered, with a mightyeffort turned on Edward with jaws extended, and would have done himharm had not Anne sprung forward with the circular metallic relic theyhad found at the fort, and placed it before her brother. This drew theattention of the enraged wolf on her; but before he could spring,Edward had felled him a second time to the ground, where he soondispatched him.
It was now too dark to make their way farther, and Edward was forced toacknowledge the only hope of getting to camp that night, lay in theirbeing found by his friends and carried back. Many a boy would have beendiscouraged, but Edward was not; though but seventeen he was athleticand brave, and felt that he was answerable for his sister's safety,whom he had led into this difficulty. "I _can_," said he to himself,"and I will; and where there is a _will_, there is a _way_."
He immediately kindled a fire, as he had done in the morning, in orderto keep other wild beasts away, as well as to prepare some supper; thentaking his line he soon had some fine fish, (for he was on the riverbank he had last crossed,) which he broiled on the coals.
He could not shut his eyes to the terrible truth that they were in avery dangerous place; for, although they piled on fuel to frighten thebeasts, yet they could hear the fierce growl of the wolf, the yell ofthe panther, and their stealthy tread, and see their eyes flash andglare in the surrounding gloom. The smell of the broiling fish seemedto have collected them, and sharpening their voracious appetites, madethem desperate. To add to the difficulty of the children, the fuel wasgetting scarce around the fire, and they dared not go away from it, forit would be running into the very jaws of their terrible besiegers.
"We must get up into a tree, Anne," said Edward; "it is now our onlyhope."
"Then, Edward, there is no hope for me; I cannot climb, but you can.Save yourself while you can!"
"No, Anne, these monsters shall never have you while I live; never fearthat. I know you cannot climb of yourself, but I can get you there. Wemust make a strong cord somehow. My fishing-line doubled twice willhelp, and here is a tree of leather-wood;[2] this is fortunate, I cannow succeed."
[2] _Dirca palustris_, a very tough shrub, of the _Thymalaeae_ species, growing in the deep forests.
Collecting together all the fuel he could, he piled it on the fire,then taking his knife, stripped off the leather-wood bark, and tying itaround Anne's waist, with the other end in his hand, he climbed up tothe lowest limb, and then cautiously drew her up after him. Seating hersecurely on that limb, he climbed higher up, drawing her after him,until he reached a secure place, where he seated her, taking theprecaution to fasten the cord that was around her to the tree. It was alarge hemlock tree, and the limbs being very elastic, he proceeded toweave her a bed, that she might take some repose, for the poor childwas wearied with fright and fatigue. Disengaging part of the cord fromher, he bent together some limbs, and fastened them securely with theleather-wood string; he then broke some smaller branches, andinterlaced them with the larger ones, until he had made a strong andquite comfortable bed. In this singular couch he placed Anne, where shesoon fell asleep.
Gradually the fire died away, and nearer and nearer their dreadfulenemies approached, until they came to the carcass of the dead wolf,which they tore into pieces and devoured, amidst frightful growlingsand fightings. When nothing but the bare bones were left, theysurrounded the tree in whose friendly branches the children had takenrefuge, and kept up a continued howl through the night. Edward sat on alimb by his sister through the night, his knife ready for use,wondering if ever there was a night so long before. To him it seemed asthough day would never dawn; and when he espied the first faint glimmerin the east, his heart bounded with gratitude that he had escaped theperils of the night. But would the wolves go away with the darkness?alas! they did not, but still prowled around, so that they did not dareto descend from their place of security.
Howe and Lewis had discovered the place where the children had atetheir dinners at the fort, and had traced them until they came to theplace where they first found they had missed their way. Here the houndsbecame perplexed in consequence of the children having doubled theirtrack, and were unable to make out the path. After some delay it wasagain found, and followed to the river bank, which Howe hesitated tocross, as it was now quite dark; accordingly they encamped for thenight. At dawn the next morning they crossed the river; the dogs wereturned loose, and after a few moments they set off at a rapid pace inone direction; Howe and Lewis followed, and came in sight in time tosee the dogs give battle to the wolves that were watching the childrenin the tree.
"Our rifles are needed there," said Howe, as his practised glance tookin the combat, and drawing his eye across his trusty gun, a sharp crackwas heard, and a wolf was felled to the ground. Again it was heard, andanother bit the dust. Lewis had not been idle; he too had brought downtwo of them, and the remainder fled, with the hounds in pursuit.
The children's joy I will not attempt to describe, as they saw theirrescuers approach, nor yet the agony of the parents, as the night woreaway and the absent ones came not. Lewis took his sister in his arms,holding her on the saddle before him, and bore her back to camp. Shewould not relinquish the trophies found at the fort, which she hadpurchased so dearly, but carried them with her.
"My children, how could you wander away so, when you well knew thedangers of the woods?" said the father, when they were once more safelyin the camp.
"It was not Anne's fault, father: do not blame her. I persuaded her tocross the river, and after leaving the old Indian fort, somehow we gotturned around, and instead of recrossing the river, we went on andcrossed over another stream," said Edward.
"Neither was it all Edward's fault," replied Anne; "I wanted to seewhat was in the Willow Grove, and when once there the woods were soshady and looked so cool and inviting----"
"Wolves and all, sister?" said Benny.
"The wolves were not there then; nothing but birds and squirrels, andsuch bright flowers and----"
"Were you not very much frightened, when you found you had lostyourselves?" asked Jane.
"Oh! yes; and when the wolf jumped at Edward, I thought we should neversee any of you again."
"Where is your 'plate cover' you used so effectually," said Edward,"for I want you all to know that when the wolf was getting the bett
erof me, Anne, usually so timid, suddenly became very courageous, andwith this for a weapon turned the brute's attention on herself, andthus perhaps saved my life."
"Give me Anne's 'plate cover;'" said the father, "I am curious toexamine what seems to have played so active a part in your adventure."
"A curious thing, very," said he, examining it closely. "Howe, did youever come across anything like it in your wanderings? It is heavy,evidently of some kind of metal."
"Once, and once only. But its description would be a long story. Scrapeaway the rust, Duncan, and see if it is made of copper."
Mr. Duncan cut away a thick scale of corroded metal, then scraping itwith a knife a pure copper plate was exposed to view.
"I thought so," said Howe. "It is a strange story, but I will tell youall I know of it."