Dangers of the prairie--Our travellers attacked by Indians,and delivered in a remarkable manner. There are periods in the life of almost all menA when misfortunes seem to crowd upon them inrapid succession, when they escape from one dangeronly to encounter another, and when, to use a well-knownexpression, they succeed in leaping out of thefrying-pan at the expense of plunging into the fire.
So was it with our three friends upon this occasion.
They were scarcely rid of the Blackfeet, who found themtoo watchful to be caught napping, when, about daybreakone morning, they encountered a roving band ofCamanchee Indians, who wore such a warlike aspectthat Joe deemed it prudent to avoid them if possible.
"They don't see us yit, I guess," said Joe, as he andhis companions drove the horses into a hollow betweenthe grassy waves of the prairie, "an' if we only can escape theirsharpeyes till we're in yonder clump o' willows, we're safe enough.""But why don't you ride up to them, Joe," inquiredDick, "and make peace between them and the Pale-faces,as you ha' done with other bands?""Because it's o' no use to risk our scalps for thechance o' makin' peace wi' a rovin' war party. Keepyer head down, Henri! If they git only a sight o' thetop o' yer cap, they'll be down on us like a breeze o'
wind.""Ha! let dem come!" said Henri.
"They'll come without askin' yer leave," remarkedJoe, dryly.
Notwithstanding his defiant expression, Henri hadsufficient prudence to induce him to bend his head andshoulders, and in a few minutes they reached theshelter of the willows unseen by the savages. At leastso thought Henri, Joe was not quite sure about it, andDick hoped for the best.
In the course of half-an-hour the last of the Camancheeswas seen to hover for a second on the horizon,like a speck of black against the sky, and then to disappear.
Immediately the three hunters vaulted on their steedsand resumed their journey; but before that eveningclosed they had sad evidence of the savage nature ofthe band from which they had escaped. On passingthe brow of a slight eminence, Dick, who rode first,observed that Crusoe stopped and snuffed the breeze inan anxious, inquiring manner.
"What is't, pup?" said Dick, drawing up, for heknew that his faithful dog never gave a false alarm.
Crusoe replied by a short, uncertain bark, and thenbounding forward, disappeared behind a little woodedknoll. In another moment a long, dismal howl floatedover the plains. There was a mystery about the dog'sconduct which, coupled with his melancholy cry, struckthe travellers with a superstitious feeling of dread, asthey sat looking at each other in surprise.
"Come, let's clear it up," cried Joe Blunt, shakingthe reins of his steed, and galloping forward. A fewstrides brought them to the other side of the knoll,where, scattered upon the torn and bloody turf, theydiscovered the scalped and mangled remains of abouttwenty or thirty human beings. Their skulls had beencleft by the tomahawk and their breasts pierced by thescalping-knife, and from the position in which many ofthem lay it was evident that they had been slain whileasleep.
Joe's brow flushed and his lips became tightly compressedas he muttered between his set teeth, "Theirskins are white."A short examination sufficed to show that the menwho had thus been barbarously murdered while theyslept had been a band of trappers or hunters, but whattheir errand had been, or whence they came, they couldnot discover.
Everything of value had been carried off, and all thescalps had been taken. Most of the bodies, althoughmuch mutilated, lay in a posture that led our huntersto believe they had been killed while asleep; but one ortwo were cut almost to pieces, and from the blood-bespatteredand trampled sward around, it seemed as ifthey had struggled long and fiercely for life. Whetheror not any of the savages had been slain, it was impossibleto tell, for if such had been the case, theircomrades, doubtless, had carried away their bodies.
That they had been slaughtered by the party of Camancheeswho had been seen at daybreak was quite clear toJoe; but his burning desire to revenge the death of thewhite men had to be stifled, as his party was so small.
Long afterwards it was discovered that this was aband of trappers who, like those mentioned at the beginningof this volume, had set out to avenge the deathof a comrade; but God, who has retained the right ofvengeance in his own hand, saw fit to frustrate theirpurpose, by giving them into the hands of the savageswhom they had set forth to slay.
As it was impossible to bury so many bodies, thetravellers resumed their journey, and left them to bleachthere in the wilderness; but they rode the whole ofthat day almost without uttering a word.
Meanwhile the Camanchees, who had observed thetrio, and had ridden away at first for the purpose ofdeceiving them into the belief that they had passedunobserved, doubled on their track, and took a longsweep in order to keep out of sight until they couldapproach under the shelter of a belt of woodlandtowards which the travellers now approached.
The Indians adopted this course instead of the easiermethod of simply pursuing so weak a party, becausethe plains at this part were bordered by a long stretchof forest into which the hunters could have plunged,and rendered pursuit more difficult, if not almost useless.
The detour thus taken was so extensive that the shadesof evening were beginning to descend before they couldput their plan into execution. The forest lay about amile to the right of our hunters, like some dark mainland, of whichtheprairie was the sea and the scatteredclumps of wood the islands.
"There's no lack o' game here," said Dick Varley,pointing to a herd of buffaloes which rose at theirapproach and fled away towards the wood.
"I think we'll ha' thunder soon," remarked Joe. "Inever feel it onnatteral hot like this without lookin' outfor a plump.""Ha! den ve better look hout for one goot tree toget b'low," suggested Henri. "Voilà!" he added, pointingwith his finger towards the plain; "dere am a lotof wild hosses."A troop of about thirty wild horses appeared, as hespoke, on the brow of a ridge, and advanced slowlytowards them.
"Hist!" exclaimed Joe, reining up; "hold on, lads.
Wild horses! my rifle to a pop-gun there's wilder menon t'other side o' them.""What mean you, Joe?" inquired Dick, riding closeup.
"D'ye see the little lumps on the shoulder o' eachhorse?" said Joe. "Them's Injun's feet; an' if we don'twant to lose our scalps we'd better make for the forest."Joe proved himself to be in earnest by wheelinground and making straight for the thick wood as fast ashis horse could run. The others followed, driving thepack-horses be............