Winter—Wolves—A night’s trapping—A retreat—In the teeth of the north wind—The carcajou—A miss and a hit—News of Indians—Danger ahead—A friendly storm—The hut again.
The next morning, plain and thicket, hill and lake, lay wrapt in a white mantle. The storm had sunk to calm, the snow had ceased, but winter was on all the land, no more to leave it until the winds and showers of spring should come from the south to chase him back into his northern home. It was piercingly cold when we issued from the tent to begin the day’s work. The cold was different from anything I had yet experienced. The slightest touch of metal sufficed instantly to freeze the fingers. A gun-barrel, the buckle of a girth, the iron of a bit, struck so deadly cold upon the hands, that I found it was only by running to the embers of the fire, and holding my fingers for a moment in the blaze that I could restore them to working power.
Red Cloud and the Assineboine appeared, however, to take slight notice of this great cold. The work was done as usual, quickly and neatly; packs and saddles were arranged, the two spare horses were got ready to bring back[178] the buffalo killed on the previous evening, and in a very short time our little party trooped out from the sheltering thicket into the great prairie.
All was now a dazzling sheet of most intense white. The clouds had cleared away, and the sun shone out, making the vast surface glisten as though millions of diamonds had been scattered over it. The snow was not yet deep upon the prairie; the wind of the preceding night had driven it into the hollows, or flattened it down amid the grass, so that the horses were able to make their way along.
About two hours’ ride brought us in sight of the dead buffalo. It was visible a long way off, showing very dark upon the white surface of the plain. The scene around it was a curious one. Fully a score of wolves were circling and dodging around the carcase, some looking anxiously at the longed-for meat, others sitting farther away, as though they had determined to await the discoveries of their more venturesome comrades ere they would approach the dead animal.
Red Cloud looked at them for some time.
“There are a good many warm skins,” he said, “in that lot, and they are easily carried compared with the skin of those buffalo cows we shot yesterday. If we had a few of those wolf robes, we could make our winter beds warm enough in the hut at the Forks.”
He thought a moment, and then continued,—
“There are so many wolves here that it would be worth while to camp near this to-night and trap some of them. We will take two loads of meat back to the camp at the lake, then return here, bringing with us the tent, and wood sufficient for the night. We will fetch hither all the traps we have with us, and then see if we cannot catch some of these white and grey wolves.”
We had now reached the buffalo, and the work of skinning and cutting up went on apace. Soon light loads for the horses were ready, and I and the scout set out for the lake, leaving the Sioux to keep watch over the carcase.
When we had departed, the Sioux set to work to outwit the cunning wolves, who still lurked around, hiding behind the hillock, and looking every now and again over the sky-line of a hill to watch their much-coveted food.
Noticing that a small ravine ran curving through the prairie within easy rifle-shot of the dead buffalo, he followed our tracks for some distance, until reaching a depression in the ground, he turned aside into it; then bending down so as to be completely hidden from the wolves, he gained the ravine at a considerable distance from where the buffalo lay. Following the many windings of this coulee, he reached at last the neighbourhood of the animal. He did not need to look up above the ledge of the ravine, because ere he set out upon his stalk he had marked a tuft of tall dry grass which grew at the curve which was nearest the buffalo, and[180] now keeping the bottom of the ravine, he saw this tuft appear in view as he rounded a bend in the hollow. Looking cautiously up from the base of the dry tuft, he saw, about a hundred yards distant, several wolves busily engaged at tearing at the hide and legs yet remaining of the buffalo. Singling out the largest wolf, he took a quick but steady aim, and as the report rang out, he saw the wolf spring into the air and fall dead beside the buffalo carcase. A second shot, fired as the other wolves galloped rapidly away, was not so successful. The bullet cut the snow beneath their feet, and in another few seconds they were out of range.
When we again appeared upon the scene, bringing the tent and traps, we found a magnificent wolf’s skin added to our stock of winter goods.
Pitching the leather lodge in the shelter of the ravine, all was made comfortable against the night. The spare horses had been left at the old camping-place, and only those ridden by the hunters had been brought to this exposed place.
Just before nightfall the Sioux set his traps in a circle round the spot where the buffalo lay. I watched with interest the precautions by which he hoped to baffle the cunning of the wolves. To the chain of each trap a heavy stick was attached. This weight would prevent the wolf dragging the trap any considerable distance; but both the trap and the[181] stick had to be concealed in the snow, and care taken to prevent the fine powdery snow drifting in underneath the plate, so as to allow the pressure of an animal’s foot to spring the trap.
The circle of traps was soon complete, and just at dusk we were all ensconced within our lodge, busily preparing the evening meal.
“About an hour after dark the wolves will grow bold,” said the Sioux. “They are circling round now, but they are too cautious to go near just at first. We will go round the traps when supper is done, and again before we turn in for the night.”
When supper was finished, we crept out of the lodge and went to visit the traps. The night was intensely cold; the stars were shining with wonderful brilliancy over the vast white prairie. The first trap we approached held nothing,—and so on until we reached the fourth. Here we saw a dark object struggling hard in the snow. As we drew nearer to it I was able to distinguish an animal closely resembling a huge grey dog. The Sioux had brought with him a stout pole four feet in length. Coming close to the wolf he struck him a violent blow with this pole, killing him instantly. Then he re-set the trap, and dragging the dead wolf along, we proceeded to finish our round. All the other traps were empty. But two hours later, when another visit was made, a coyote and a kit fox were found, so that the stock of winter skins[182] began to increase rapidly.
Another wolf was captured during the night; but when morning came we found that he had succeeded in dragging the trap, and the stick to which it was attached, a long way over the prairie. It was the trap which had been set by me.
“Curious,” said I. “The wolf caught last night was just able to move the trap, and now this one carries trap and stick far over the prairie. He must be a stronger wolf than the first one.”
“No,” replied the Sioux. “But do you see the track that the stick has made in the snow? Does it not run straight, end on, after the wolf?”
I noticed that it did so.
“Well,” said Red Cloud, “that is because you did not select the exact centre of the stick in which to place the chain. The consequence is that one end of the stick is heavier than the other. This heavy end trails after the chain, so that the wolf has less difficulty in dragging it along. It glides over the snow easily, whereas when both ends of the stick are evenly balanced, it lies across the animal’s line of flight. That is the reason why this wolf has got away so far. But we will reach him yet.”
Following rapidly along, we overtook the trapped animal in the bottom of a coulee, in the soft snow of which he could not make much way. He was quickly despatched, and dragged back to the tent, his skin to be added to those[183] already taken.
The weather was now so intensely cold that Red Cloud began to fear the horses would be unable to drag the load of meat back to the Forks. There was meat fully sufficient to load the three sleds we had brought to their utmost capacity. Fortunately the spare horses had had an easy time of it up to the present. They were still in fair condition; but the riding horses already showed signs of feeling the terrible severity of these exposed treeless plains, and to delay the return to the Forks longer than was absolutely necessary, would only be to imperil the lives of the most valuable animals possessed by us.
Accordingly the lodge was struck, and the retreat to the hut at the Forks began.
During four days our line of sleds and men toiled slowly over the treeless waste, dark specs upon a waste of white. The north wind blew with merciless rigour. Sometimes the air was still, and the sun shone; but at other times terrible storms swept the wild landscape, whirling powdery snow over hills and ravines. With downbent heads men and horses plodded on; at night the lodge was pitched in some coulee for better shelter, and in the early morning so black and cold and desolate looked all visible nature, that I used to long to be again in the tent. Still I struggled hard to keep a bold front before my Indian comrades; they did not complain, why should I? One good thing was, we had plenty of buffalo[184] meat, and we could be fairly warm at night by lying close together in the “lodge.”
At last, on the fifth da............