THE old trapper paused for a moment to refill his pipe, and then continued—
“I went out as usual with a party of trappers, fur in them days it warn’t no way safe fur a feller to go thar alone. We war a’most sartin to be chased by the Injuns, but them as got away with a hul skin, allers went back as soon as they could make up a comp’ny, fur it war thar the best trappin’ war to be found.
“If all the red-skins we have rubbed out thar could come to life ag’in, I reckon thar would be lots of ’em, an’ if all our poor fellers who have had thar har raised on the plains of that same river, could come back, you’d see a heap of fine trappers. An’ if me an’ Dick could have all the furs we have lost thar, I’ll allow it would keep us in pipes an’ tobacker fur a year or two. In them days, a feller could git a good rifle fur a beaver or otter skin, an’ a fust rate hoss fur two or three mink skins. Our furs war the only thing we had to depend on to buy us a new outfit; so when we lost all our winter’s work, it warn’t a thing to laugh at.
“Wal, as I war sayin’, I went out with this party of fellers, an’, as usual, not the least bit of Injun sign did we see durin’ the winter. As a gen’ral thing the red-skins don’t run ’round much in cold weather—leastways, they don’t go fur from their camps; but by the time the snow is off the ground, they ar’ well-nigh out of grub, an’ have to start out on their huntin’ expeditions. The Saskatchewan war a good place fur them to come to, fur thar war plenty of game; but the country warn’t big enough for them an’ us; so when they begun comin’ in, it war high time fur us to be goin’ out. Thar war five of us in the party, an’ as every man knowed his own bisness, by the time spring come we had as much spelter as four hosses could pack away. When the snow commenced goin’ off, we kept a good lookout fur Injuns—fur the trappin’ war so fine we didn’t want to leave so long as it war safe to stay—an’, one mornin’, as I war comin’ in from tendin’ to my traps, I seed whar two Injuns had crossed the creek. That war enough fur me, so I put for the camp, but didn’t find nobody thar. The fellers war all out tendin’ to their bisness; an’, in course, I warn’t goin’ away without ’em; so I packed up my spelter ready fur the start, and while waitin’ fur ’em, kept sharp watch on all sides fur Injuns. ’Bout noon I heered a hoss comin’, an’, in a few minits, up rid one of our fellers with his huntin’ shirt all bloody. As soon as I seed him, I knowed that the game war up.
“‘Bob!’ says he, ‘Get away from here to onct. Bill Coffee is done fur (that war his chum), an’ you can see how nigh they come to rubbin’ me out too. Some varlet sent an arrer clean through my arm. Hand me my pack o’ furs, and let’s be off to onct, I tell you.’
“This man—Bill Simons his name war—war the oldest an’ bravest man in our comp’ny, an’ he war our leader. Although I didn’t like the idee of leavin’ them fellers out thar in the woods with them Injuns—fur every one of ’em had done me a kindness—I knowed I couldn’t do them no good by stayin’; fur, when Bill Simons deserted his own brother, thar warn’t no use of any body’s tryin’ to help him. So I handed Bill his furs, grabbed up my own, jumped on my hoss, an’ we started. It war no light load them hosses had to carry, fur our spelter war a’most as heavy as we war. But we couldn’t think of leavin’ ’em behind without makin’ one effort to save ’em, fur we had worked hard fur ’em, an’ didn’t want ’em to fall into the hands of them lazy Injuns. As we rid along, we made up our minds that we would stick together as long as we could, an’ that we wouldn’t drop our furs as long as we seed the least chance of escapin’ with ’em. But if we had knowed any thing, we would have throwed away them packs to onct, fur hangin’ on to ’em so long was jest the very thing that got us ketched. We run our hosses with them heavy loads, till they war clean done out; an’ when the Injuns got arter us, they war a’most ready to drop. Wal, as I war sayin’, we rid along fur ’bout two mile, keepin’ a good lookout on all sides fur Injuns, an’, finally, we seed ’em behind us. Thar war ’bout twenty of ’em, an’ as soon as I sot eyes on ’em, I somehow knowed that we war ketched.
“‘Bob,’ said Bill, turnin’ to me, ‘our scalps ar’ wuth more nor this spelter. It is time to run in ’arnest now.’
“He throwed down his pack, as he spoke, an’ then his hoss went faster. But I, bein’ young an’ foolish, didn’t like the idee of losin’ my winter’s work; so I held on to my pack, till, findin’ that Bill war leavin’ me behind, I throwed it away Thar war our eight months’ wages gone. We had worked hard an’ froze among the snows of the mountains fur nothin’. But we hadn’t gone fur afore we diskivered that we had oughter throwed ’em away long ago. Both our hosses run as though they had traveled all day, an’ it war plain as bar’s ears that they couldn’t go much further. Every time we looked back we seed that the Injuns war gainin’ on us fast, an’ the way they yelled told us that they, too, knowed that they would soon have us. I looked t’wards Bill, an’ although I could read in his face that he knowed we war ketched, he didn’t seem the least bit skeary. He had been in jest such scrapes afore. He had often been a pris’ner, but he war strong as a hoss, could run like a skeered deer, an’ had allers succeeded in gittin’ away from the Injuns at last. I, howsomever, had never been in the hands of the red-skins, but I knowed, from the stories I had often heered, that they didn’t treat a feller very kind, an’ this set me to thinkin’. The Injuns knowed Bill, an’ wouldn’t they know me to? The young chief I had rubbed out b’longed to that same tribe, an’ wouldn’t his friends ’member the hoss, an’ the knife, an’ tomahawk I carried in my belt? I could throw the we’pons away, an’, arter thinkin’ a leetle, I did. I unbuckled my belt, an’, jest as we went over a swell out of sight of the Injuns, I dropped knife, tomahawk, an’ all, hopin’ that the red-skins would never find ’em; fur I knowed that if they thought I had ever rubbed out any of the tribe, I would ketch the wust kind of punishment.
“Wal, all this while the Injuns had been gainin’ on us, fur, the further we went, the slower our hosses run, an’ all the whippin’ an’ poundin’ we could do, didn’t make them go no faster. They war well-nigh tuckered out. Purty quick I see Bill turn in his saddle an’ draw up his ole shootin’ iron. He war bound to die game. I watched the shot, an’ couldn’t help givin’ a yell when I seed one of the varlets drop from his hoss. The Injuns had all this while been ridin’ clost together; but findin’ that we war goin to begin shootin’, they scattered, an’ throwed themselves flat on their hosses’ backs, so that we couldn’t hit ’em. But we war sartin of our game, no matter how small a mark we had to shoot at, an’ when I fired, I seed an Injun an’ his hoss come to the ground together. By this time, Bill war ready ag’in, an’ down come another Injun.
“If our hosses had only been fresh, we could have picked off the last one of ’em afore they could have ketched us. But the varlets kept gainin’ all the time, an’ purty quick they got nigh enough to use their we’pons, an’ the way the arrers whistled ’bout our heads warn’t pleasant, now I tell you. But we kept shootin’ at ’em as fast as we could load up, bringin’ down an Injun at every pop—till some chap sent his arrer into my hoss’s side—an’ the next minit I war sprawlin’ on the ground. Bill kept on, but he hadn’t gone fur afore he got an arrer through his neck, which brought him from his saddle, dead. I jest seed this as I war tryin’ to get up; fur my hoss had fell on my leg, an’ war holdin’ me down. Jest arter Bill fell, the Injuns come up an’ I war a pris’ner. I couldn’t tell you how I felt, youngsters. I had heered enough to know that much depended on my showin’ a bold front; but it takes a man of mighty strong nerve to look a dozen yellin’, scowlin’ Injuns in the face, without onct flinchin’. Howsomever, I kept a leetle courage ’bout me, I guess, fur when one chap jumped, an’ drawed his bow with an arrer p’inted straight at my breast, I looked him in the eye without winkin’; an’ when another ketched me by the har, an’ lifted his tomahawk as if he had a good notion to make an end of me to onct, I stood as still an’ quiet as though I didn’t see him. Arter this had been goin’ on fur a while, the Injuns seemed to grow tired of it, fur my hands war bound behind my back, an’ one feller fetched up Bill’s hoss, an’ war goin’ to put me on him, when the critter, bein’ clean tired out, give a grunt an’ lay right down on the prairy. The Injuns seemed to think the hoss war no ’count, fur they turned him loose, an’ I war lifted on to a mustang behind one of the savages. I didn’t think much of this at the time, but I arterward had reason to be glad that the varlets had left Bill’s hoss out thar on the prairy.