“It was gettin’ colder, and the wind comin’ up, drew the white clouds ’fore the moon, makin’ it all black. But when it come out agin I seed sunkthin’ comin’ down the river that looked like a log. I dug down deeper into the mud, and set my peepers on it, fur I knowed thar war sunkthin’ else thar, too. It come right on and struck the mud a little ways from me. I didn’t stir ’cept to kinder loose my knife. The log stuck a minute, and then swung round and went down the river. I knowed the boys would see it, and I didn’t leave my place. Thinkin’ as how this war only sent down to see what we’d do, I war lookin’ fur other things, when I heard a noise in the water, and, shoot me, ef a sneakin’ red didn’t come up out of the water, and commence crawlin’ toward whar the gals war singin’. (Jist put a little fodder on the fire.)”
I sprang up and threw on some fagots, 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 shore. 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 grass 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 mass was moving slowly onward. The head buffaloes would seize a mouthful of grass, 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 grass, and glaring at me a moment, gave a snort of alarm and plunged headlong away into the droves. At the same instant I [Pg 61][Pg 62][Pg 63]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.
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,