CHAPTER XII.
Wanderings on the prairie
--
A war party
--
Chased by
Indians
--
A bold leap for life
.
For many days the three hunters wandered over
the trackless prairie in search of a village of the
Sioux Indians, but failed to find one, for the Indians
were in the habit of shifting their ground and following
the buffalo. Several times they saw small isolated bands
of Indians; but these they carefully avoided, fearing
they might turn out to be war parties, and if they fell
into their hands the white men could not expect civil
treatment, whatever nation the Indians might belong to.
During the greater portion of this time they met with
numerous herds of buffalo and deer, and were well supplied
with food; but they had to cook it during the day,
being afraid to light a fire at night while Indians were
prowling about.
One night they halted near the bed of a stream which
was almost dry. They had travelled a day and a night
without water, and both men and horses were almost
choking, so that when they saw the trees on the horizon
which indicated the presence of a stream, they pushed
forward with almost frantic haste.
"Hope it's not dry," said Joe anxiously as they galloped up to it.
"No,
there's water, lads," and they
dashed forward to a pool that had not yet been dried
up. They drank long and eagerly before they noticed
that the pool was strongly impregnated with salt. Many
streams in those parts of the prairies are quite salt, but
fortunately this one was not utterly undrinkable, though
it was very unpalatable.
"We'll make it better, lads," said Joe, digging a deep
hole in the sand with his hands, a little below the pool.
In a short time the water filtered through, and though
not rendered fresh, it was, nevertheless, much improved.
"We may light a fire to-night, d'ye think?" inquired
Dick; "we've not seed Injuns for some days."
"P'r'aps 'twould be better not," said Joe; "but I daresay
we're safe enough."
A fire was therefore lighted in as sheltered a spot as
could be found, and the three friends bivouacked as
usual. Towards dawn they were aroused by an angry
growl from Crusoe.
"It's a wolf likely," said Dick, but all three seized and
cocked their rifles nevertheless.
Again Crusoe growled more angrily than before, and
springing out of the camp snuffed the breeze anxiously.
"Up, lads! catch the nags! There's something in the
wind, for the dog niver did that afore."
In a few seconds the horses were saddled and the
packs secured.
"Call in the dog," whispered Joe Blunt; "if he barks
they'll find out our whereabouts."
"Here, Crusoe, come--"
It was too late; the dog barked loudly and savagely
at the moment, and a troop of Indians came coursing
over the plain. On hearing the unwonted sound they
wheeled directly and made for the camp.
"It's a war party; fly, lads! nothin' 'll save our
scalps now but our horses' heels," cried Joe.
In a moment they vaulted into the saddle and urged
their steeds forward at the utmost speed. The savages
observed them, and with an exulting yell dashed after
them. Feeling that there was now no need of concealment,
the three horsemen struck off into the open prairie,
intending to depend entirely on the speed and stamina
of their horses. As we have before remarked, they
were good ones; but the Indians soon proved that they
were equally well if not better mounted.
"It'll be a hard run," said Joe in a low, muttering
tone, and looking furtively over his shoulder. "The
varmints are mounted on wild horses--leastways they
were wild not long agone. Them chaps can throw the
lasso and trip a mustang as well as a Mexican. Mind
the badger-holes, Dick.--Hold in a bit, Henri; yer nag
don't need drivin'; a foot in a hole just now would
cost us our scalps. Keep down by the creek, lads."
"Ha! how dey yell," said Henri in a savage tone,
looking back, and shaking his rifle at them, an act that
caused them to yell more fiercely than ever. "Dis old
pack-hoss give me moche trobel."
The pace was now tremendous. Pursuers and pursued
rose and sank on the prairie billows as they swept
along, till they came to what is termed a "dividing
ridge," which is a cross wave, as it were, that cuts the
others in two, thus forming a continuous level. Here
they advanced more easily; but the advantage was
equally shared with their pursuers, who continued the
headlong pursuit with occasional yells, which served to
show the fugitives that they at least did not gain
ground.
A little to the right of the direction in which they
were flying a blue line was seen on the horizon. This
indicated the existence of trees to Joe's practised eyes,
and feeling that if the horses broke down they could
better make a last manful stand in the wood than on
the plain he urged his steed towards it. The savages
noticed the movement at once, and uttered a yell of
exultation, for they regarded it as an evidence that the
fugitives doubted the strength of their horses.
"Ye haven't got us yet," muttered Joe, with a sardonic
grin. "If they get near us, Dick, keep yer eyes
open an' look out for yer neck, else they'll drop a noose
over it, they will, afore ye know they're near, an' haul
ye off like a sack."
Dick nodded in reply, but did not speak, for at that
moment his eye was fixed on a small creek ahead which
they must necessarily leap or dash across. It was
lined with clumps of scattered shrubbery, and he
glanced rapidly for the most suitable place to pass.
Joe and Henri did the same, and having diverged a
little to the different points chosen, they dashed through
the shrubbery and were hid from each other's view.
On approaching the edge of the stream, Dick found to
his consternation that the bank was twenty feet high
opposite him, and too wide for any horse to clear.
Wheeling aside without checking speed, at the risk of
throwing his steed, he rode along the margin of the
stream for a few hundred yards until he found a ford--at
least such a spot as might be cleared by a bold
leap. The temporary check, however, had enabled an
Indian to gain so close upon his heels that his exulting
yell sounded close in his ear.
With a vigorous bound his gallant little horse went
over. Crusoe could not take it, but he rushed down
the one bank and up the other, so that he only lost a
few yards. These few yards, however, were sufficient
to bring the Indian close upon him as he cleared the
stream at full gallop. The savage whirled his lasso
swiftly round for a second, and in another moment
Crusoe uttered a tremendous roar as he was tripped up
violently on the plain.
Dick heard the cry of his faithful dog, and turned
quickly round, just in time to see him spring at the
horse's throat, and bring both steed and rider down
upon him. Dick's heart leaped to his throat. Had a
thousand savages been rushing on him he would have
flown to the rescue of his favourite; but an unexpected
obstacle came in the way. His fiery little steed, excited
by the headlong race and the howls of the Indians,
had taken the bit in his teeth and was now unmanageable.
Dick tore at the reins like a maniac, and in the
height of his frenzy even raised the butt of his rifle with
the intent to strike the poor horse to the earth, but his
better nature prevailed. He checked the uplifted hand,
and with, a groan dropped the reins, and sank almost
helplessly forward on the saddle; for several of the Indians
had left the main body and were pursuing him
alone, so that there would have been now no chance of
his reaching the place where Crusoe fell, even if he could
have turned his horse.
Spiritless, and utterly indifferent to what his fate
might be, Dick Varley rode along with his head drooping,
and keeping his seat almost mechanically, while the
mettlesome little steed flew on over wave and hollow.
Gradually he awakened from this state of despair to a
sense of danger. Glancing round he observed that the
Indians were now far behind him, though still pursuing.
He also observed that his companions were galloping
miles away on the horizon to the left, and that he had
foolishly allowed the savages to get between him and
them. The only chance that remained for him was to
outride his pursuers, and circle round towards his comrades,
and this he hoped to accomplish, for his little
horse had now proved itself to be superior to those of the
Indians, and there was good running in him still.
Urging him forward, therefore, he soon left the savages
still farther behind, and feeling confident that they could
not now overtake him he reined up and dismounted.
The pursuers quickly drew near, but short though it
was the rest did his horse good. Vaulting into the
saddle, he again stretched out, and now skirted along
the margin of a wood which seemed to mark the position
of a river of considerable size.
At this moment his horse put his foot into a badger-hole,
and both of them came heavily to the ground.
In an instant Dick rose, picked up his gun, and leaped
unhurt into the saddle. But on urging his poor horse
forward he found that its shoulder was badly sprained.
There was no room for mercy, however--life and death
were in the balance--so he plied the lash vigorously,
and the noble steed warmed into something like a run,
when again it stumbled, and fell with a crash on the
ground, while the blood burst from its mouth and nostrils.
Dick could hear the shout of triumph uttered by
his pursuers.
"My poor, poor horse!" he exclaimed in a tone of the
deepest commiseration, while he stooped and stroked its
foam-studded neck.
The dying steed raised its head for a moment, it almost
seemed as if to acknowledge the tones of affection,
then it sank down with a gurgling groan.
Dick sprang up, for the Indians were now upon him,
and bounded like an antelope into the thickest of the
shrubbery; which was nowhere thick enough, however,
to prevent the Indians following. Still, it sufficiently
retarded them to render the chase a more equal one than
could have been expected. In a few minutes Dick
gained a strip of open ground beyond, and found
himself on the bank of a broad river, whose evidently
deep waters rushed impetuously along their unobstructed
channel. The bank at the spot where he
reached it was a sheer precipice of between thirty and
forty feet high. Glancing up and down the river he
retreated a few paces, turned round and shook his
clenched fist at the savages, accompanying the action
with a shout of defiance, and then running to the edge
of the bank, sprang far out into the boiling flood and
sank.
The Indians pulled up on reaching the spot. There
was no possibility of galloping down the wood-encumbered
banks after the fugitive; but quick as thought
each Red-man leaped to the ground, and fitting an arrow
to his bow, awaited Dick's re-appearance with eager
gaze.
Young though he was, and unskilled in such wild
warfare, Dick knew well enough what sort of reception
he would meet with on coming to the surface, so he kept
under water as long as he could, and struck out as vigorously
as the care of his rifle would permit. At last he
rose for a few seconds, and immediately half-a-dozen
arrows whizzed through the air; but most of them fell
short--only one passed close to his cheek, and went with
a "whip" into the river. He immediately sank again,
and the next time he rose to breathe he was far beyond
the reach of his Indian enemies.