Adventures in the Far West

by William Henry Giles Kingston

We, of course, told the trapper that we should be very happy to have the benefit of his experience.

We passed the night quietly enough; but the next morning, to our excessive disgust, half the mules

were missing. In spite of their hobbles, they had managed to get away. Peter and I with two men at once set off in search of them; but it was not until late in the day that we found the runaways. As soon as we had brought them back we started, but of course could make but a short distance. On camping, with the assistance of the old trapper we hobbled them more securely than on the previous night, and by his advice a watch was set, we all taking the duty in turns. Old Ben, however, excused himself from watching, declaring that his mules never ran away and that as he should have to keep wide awake during most nights by and by, he should prefer a sound sleep while he could get it.

To this we made no objection. We placed the packs on one side of our camp-fire, near which, having taken our suppers, the old trapper, Peter, and Story lay down to sleep; while I, with my rifle in my hand, walked off to look after the horses and mules. I kept walking up and down, keeping my eyes open, and when any of the animals appeared inclined to head off from the rest turned them back. The night was fine and the stars shone out brightly, but it was otherwise somewhat dark. At last I began to yawn and to wish heartily that Story would come and relieve me. Once or twice I heard cries in the distance very similar to those which had disturbed us when further to the west, but here, so near the settled districts, I thought nothing of the matter. I suspected that the cunning mules were watching me, for when I turned towards the camp to call Story, off one or two of them bolted. They had played me this trick two or

three times, and at last one of them led me so long a chase that when I caught him I determined to punish the brute by securing him to a tree. Having done so I turned towards the camp, but the fire had burnt so low that I could scarcely see the spot. There was light enough, however, to enable me to distinguish several objects moving over the ground. Can they be Indians? I thought, as I ran forward hoping to arouse my companions in time to defend themselves. Before I got up to the camp, however, I saw what I at once knew to be a pack of wolves. On they came without bark or yelp, making straight for our baggage. Among the provisions we had purchased was a quantity of pemmican placed on the top. I really believe that the wolves, cunning as foxes, had surveyed our camp and knew exactly what to go in for. I shouted loudly, hoping to frighten them off and awaken my friends; but even old Ben was sleeping so soundly that for some time no one heard my voice, while I was afraid to fire at the wolves for fear—in the uncertain light—of hitting one of my sleeping companions. At length up sprang Story and Peter, and their cries aroused the old trapper. It was too late, however, to prevent the wolves making an onslaught on our baggage. Each seized something in his mouth, but our cries prevented them from remaining and devouring the whole of our provisions, which they undoubtedly otherwise would have done. Off they went, several of the rascals carrying bags of pemmican or of flour, or packages of hams in their mouths. I fired and stopped the career of one of them, while my companions, imitating my example, shot three others. We then, having reloaded, made chase and brought down two or three more.

We should have regained the whole of our provisions, but, in several instances, the moment a wolf was shot another brute seized his prize and made off with it. Under other circumstances we should not have expended powder on the brutes. We fired away, however, as long as any remained within shot, and on searching for the booty we recovered nearly the whole of it. Our chief loss was in our flour, as the animals, while grabbing the bags from each other, had well nigh torn them to pieces and let the contents run out.

Old Ben took matters very coolly, but Story and Peter were so vexed that they undertook to ride back and replace our loss, if we would consent to move on slowly with the rest of the animals. This we gladly did, the old trapper managing them with perfect ease. He said that he had seldom known a pack of wolves to come so far east, and advised that in future we should keep a sharp look-out lest we might encounter others.

Our friends overtook us the next day, and in the evening we reached Mr Praeger’s. We found Dick quite recovered and ready to set off again; but it seemed doubtful whether Armitage would continue his expedition. It struck me that although Mr Praeger was very civil, he would be glad to have us go. To say the least, we occupied a great deal of the attention of the ladies of the family, and Charley hinted that honest Dick was somewhat spoony on one of them. Story had also been warm in his praises of another, and it struck me that the young lady’s colour heightened and her eyes brightened when he spoke to her.