Afar in the Forest

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I trust to One well able to protect me,” he answered, smiling. “Whenever I have to employ the arm of flesh, I find my trusty stick sufficient to defend myself against hostile Indians or savage beasts;” and as he whisked it round his head with a rapidity which dazzled the eyes, I could easily understand how it would prove a formidable weapon against either bears or wolves—a tap of it on their skulls being sufficient to stun them; while it seemed to me that he might be able to ward off either the arrows or the tomahawks of hostile Indians.

Kepenau and Ashatea returned to their settlement; and the old trapper, who had now recovered, began to make preparations for his departure. He had again invited Reuben to join him, but Mr Claxton, very wisely, would not hear of his son going away with the old man.

“It is more than likely we shall never see him again,” he observed. “Whatever his fate may be, you would probably share it; either to be killed by Indians, or starved, or drowned, or frozen to death, or torn to pieces by bears or wolves.”

Reuben was inclined to complain. “Father thinks I cannot take care of myself,” he said to me. “As old Samson has spent so many years out trapping by himself, why should not I have as good a chance of escaping from danger?”

“There is an old saying, ‘That the water-pot which goes often to the well, gets broken at last,’” I observed. “Such may be the case with regard to old Samson; and you know nothing of the country, or of the cunning of the Redskins, and would be very sure to lose your life if he lost his.”

The old man, who had set his heart on obtaining a companion of some sort, succeeded in persuading a half-breed to accompany him. This was a man named Sandy McColl, whose father was a Scotchman and his mother an Indian, and who had long been accustomed to the wild life of the prairies. He had come to the settlement intending to remain, and had built a hut and begun to cultivate a garden, with the intention, as was supposed, of taking unto himself a wife; but the damsel on whom he had set his affections had refused him. Sandy after this became very downcast; he neglected his garden, and spent most of his time wandering about gun in hand, shooting any game he could come across. He had few associates, and was of a morose disposition. People, indeed, whispered that he had been guilty of some crime or other, and was forced to leave the part of the country where he had before resided. Uncle Stephen, who occasionally exchanged a few words with him, did not believe that this was the case, and declared that Sandy, in spite of his taciturnity and love of solitude, was an honest fellow. Be that as it may, Samson was satisfied with him, and the two agreed to start together.

Soon after the old man’s arrival, he had asked Reuben and me to make a journey to the place where he had left his other packs of skins hidden away; and he described the spot so exactly, that we believed we should have no difficulty in finding it. My uncle said I might go with Mike Laffan. Reuben, too, got leave from his father; and Sandy volunteered to accompany us. Without him we should, I believe, have lost our way, for he knew the country much better than we did.

We had to proceed cautiously during the latter part of the journey for fear of Indians, as we were far in advance of the territory claimed by the white men. But I do not give an account of the expedition, because, in reality, we met with no adventure worthy of notice. Thanks to Sandy, we discovered the packs, and succeeded in bringing them back safe to their owner; for which Samson was very grateful, and rewarded us handsomely. With the proceeds he purchased two mustangs, six beaver-traps, a supply of powder and shot, and other articles. Sandy had the means of obtaining another mustang, and such supplies as he required.

After this old Samson quickly recovered. As soon as he was well enough he and Sandy mounted their ponies, reserving a third animal to carry their goods; and having bidden us all good-bye, they set off into the wilderness—going to the westward, intending to push forward to the spurs of the Rocky Mountains, where, they said, game in abundance was to be found. Reuben, who was really a very good fellow, soon got reconciled to remaining at home and attending to his duty.

Kepenau had made me promise to come and visit him, and had agreed to send one of his people with a canoe to take me to his lodges; and at last the Indian arrived at our hut.