Old Ruff, the Trapper; or, The Young Fur-Hunters

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Looking to the east, he saw hundreds of square miles of forest, prairie, ravines, gorges and mountain-peaks spread out before him, crossed in every direction by rivers, creeks, torrents, cañons and waterfalls, while the deep emerald tinge of the vegetation, as seen in the spring and early summer, gave a soft splendor to the whole scene that never could have been equaled at any other season of the year.

This view was much the same to the north and south, while in the west it was backed up by that vast snowy range, whose peaks, in many places, were hid from sight among the very clouds.

The same alternation of forest, ravine and prairie encountered the eye in this view, and the soft, mellow haze that enfolded the distant Cascade Range, gave the landscape a peculiarly American appearance, such as rarely meets the eye of the traveler in other parts of the world.

The majestic loneliness of the vast solitude was deepened and made more impressive by the faint view of Fort Abercrombie in the distance. It was many miles away, standing in a small elevated clearing. The stockades by which it was surrounded, and the compact log building itself, resembled some tiny toy, as they were revealed to the eye.

From a tall flag-staff the Stars and Stripes floated in the breeze, and the naked eye was just able to detect the evolutions of the banner as it folded in and out, stretching for an instant to full length, and then flapping about the staff again.

It was a sight to kindle the heart of the patriot, as he looked upon this most beautiful emblem of his country floating to the breeze in this far-away wilderness, proclaiming to all the protection they could find beneath its ægis, and that while they trod this vast domain, it could be with the consciousness that they were still upon the soil of their own dear native land, although perhaps thousands of miles from the spot of their birth.

The feeling of desolation and loneliness which came upon one when he looked for the first time upon this immense landscape of silence was made still greater by the faint signs of the presence of human beings that were here and there discernible. The very insignificance and paucity of their number, as compared with the enormous extent of territory, was what made the contrast the more impressive.

Several miles to the south, a thin blue column of smoke indicated the camp-fire of some party; further to the north, a similar sign showed where another company were gathered, and between and around these two little halting-places for human beings, stretched mile after mile and league after league of unbroken wilderness, in which crouched the bloody minded Blackfoot and the savage bear.

Of some such a nature as this were the emotions of Harry Northend, as he stood on the elevation and permitted his eyes to wander off in the direction of the great Cascade Range. Young, romantic and imaginative, the grand scene produced a powerful impression upon him, and he stood for several minutes, forgetful of the grief and anxiety of heart that had been his when he made his way to this point. His soul was filled with solemnity and awe, such as come over it in the presence of the Infinite, and at that moment he felt a pride in the thought that this was a portion of his country, and a devout thankfulness that God had thus far protected him from the dangers and perils that threaten all who venture into these wilds.

But if the old mountaineer possessed any poetry in his nature, he had too much on his mind to give any heed to it at present. Perhaps his familiarity with the sublime scenery of the grandest portion of our continent had dulled the edge of his appreciation, or it may be that his mind was so intent on discovering something tangible by which to continue his hunt for Little Rifle, that he had no room for any other thought but be that as it may, his feelings were very different from those of the lad beside him, as with the field glass in his hand, he carefully roved over the immense expanse of vision, on the look-out for some sign that might tell him something of the loved and lost one.