The Wild Man of the West: A Tale of the Rocky Mountains

by R. M. Ballantyne

Perhaps some readers may wonder how it was possible that he could escape being killed in these encounters; but it must be remembered that in those days guns were by no means so plentiful among the Indians as they now are, and arrows are comparatively harmless missiles. Dick always wore under his leather coat, a vest of thick buffalo leather, which rendered him arrow-proof in the vital regions of his body, unless shot at with a strong bow by a powerful arm from a short distance.

This undercoat or piece of armour added a little to his naturally gigantic proportions, which were still further enhanced by the flying tags and scalp-locks and fringes of his dress, and the wild masses of his long hair. He rode, as we have elsewhere mentioned, a magnificent charger, which he had purchased in Mexico, and whose sire, no doubt, had been one of those noble barbs which bore the cavaliers of Spain to the conquest of the New World. The mane and tail of this animal, having never been cut, were of immense length, and, when violently agitated, seemed to envelop horse and man. Altogether, the tout ensemble of Dick and his charger on any of the rencontres above referred to, was sufficiently awful, and as he was seldom seen near at hand, except in a condition of blazing fury, there is little wonder that, in the process of time, he became celebrated throughout the country as the Wild Man of the West. The white trappers, too, were somewhat curious to know something about this mysterious brother; but he shunned them even more determinedly than he did the Indians, though, of course, he never fought with them, seeing that they did not attempt to murder him or interfere with his movements as the savages did. But there were one or two bolder or more inquisitive than their comrades, who dogged the Wild Man, and tried to force themselves upon him. These he caught and thrashed soundly, after the fashion of a schoolmaster with a refractory boy, and turned them adrift with a warning thenceforth to mind their own business. At last the Indians set him down as a “great medicine-man,” or a demon, whom it was impossible to slay; and the trappers shook their heads and touched their foreheads significantly, as if to indicate that they thought him mad.

Thus Dick, in course of years, freed himself in a great measure from annoyance, and many good and kind actions which he did both to Indians and trappers began to be circulated and exaggerated, so that he became a greater mystery than ever, especially to the savages, who naturally misconstrued the spirit in which he made his furious attacks, in self-defence, just as much as they misunderstood his motives in performing deeds of kindness. He was a monstrous mystery! the greatest mystery that had ever been seen or heard of in the Rocky Mountains since the beginning of time, and no doubt a greater mystery than will ever be heard of there again.

Having traversed this roundabout pathway, we now come to the explanation which we intended to have given much earlier in this chapter. But it is really wonderful how natural it is for the human mind to prose and to diverge, and how very difficult it is, at any time, to come to the point! Public speakers know this well. Perhaps their hearers know it better!

Well, although Dick was thus feared, yet he was not entirely unmolested. Wandering tribes from distant hunting grounds used to go there, and, not knowing much about the Wild Man of the West, did not believe in him; even ventured to go in search of him, and on more than one occasion almost caught him asleep in his cave. Having an ingenious turn of mind, and being somewhat fanciful, he devised a curious plan to deceive the savages and warn him of their approach.

By means of an axe and a knife, he carved a representation of his own head, and covered it with hair by means of the tail of one of his light-coloured horses, which he docked for the purpose. (His steeds, by the way, occupied another chamber of the cavern in which he dwelt.) The head thus formed, he planted behind a bush that grew on a ledge of rock about two yards from the bottom of the cliff of the amphitheatre outside, and directly opposite to the entrance to it. The cave, it will be remembered, was on the right of that entrance. Thus, the first thing the savage beheld, on prowling up to the opening of the amphitheatre, was Dick’s image peeping at him over the bush opposite. Of course the instantaneous result was the firing of a shot or the discharge of an arrow, which, the Indians being excellent marksmen, invariably alighted on the bridge of Dick’s nose, or in the centre of his forehead, or in one or other of his eyes. As the head was balanced on the front edge of a deep narrow hole which happened to be there, it was invariably knocked into that hole by the blow, and disappeared.

This was the supposed fall of the famous Wild Man that caused the yell which has taken so long to account for, and the discovery of nothing behind that bush except a small deep hole, much too small to secrete even a little man’s body in, was the cause of the explanation of surprise which we asserted would certainly follow.

When an event of this kind happened, Dick had a large blunderbuss in readiness. It was loaded with a tremendous charge of small shot, and a small charge of powder, for he did not want to kill. His object was simply to punish and to terrify. He also had in readiness a curious machine which we find it rather difficult to describe. Every one has heard, no doubt, of the wooden wheels, with wooden axles, attached to the carts in some eastern countries, which groan, and creak, and yell, and shriek for want of grease, in a manner that is almost maddening to all but native ears. Dick’s invention was founded partly on the principle of these eastern carts, only it was worked by turning a handle, and its sounds were much more excruciatingly intense.

On being startled, then, Dick was wont to seize his blunderbuss, rush into the outer cave where the shrieking-machine was, give the handle half a dozen turns, and thus awaken, as it were, all the demons of the Rocky Mountains. Dick came at last to know exactly what state of things he would find outside. At the first burst of discord the savages, however numerous, took to their heels, and when Dick emerged from his cave, they were always within a yard or two of the entrance to the amphitheatre, every man with outstretched arms, sloped forward at the acutest possible angle with the ground, rushing on the wings of terror in a flight of unparalleled precipitancy.

To pour the charge of small shot down into the centre of the flying mass was the work of a moment; to mount his unsaddled charger, and dash down the steep rugged path with a clatter equal to that of half a squadron of dragoons, was the work of two minutes more. To pull up suddenly, when he had terrified the spirits of the intruders wellnigh out of their bodies, return slowly to his rude domicile, reload his blunderbuss, and retire to rest with a grim smile on his bearded mouth, and a lurking expression of fun in his big blue eyes, as he drew his blanket over him, was the usual termination of such scenes.