Dick Onslow Among the Redskins

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Day came; I made up my mind that it was to be my last on earth. I thought of Noggin, and I knew that if he could he would rescue me, but at the same time I was aware that the cunning red-skins would not let him know that I had been captured. The day wore on; the tribe collected from far and near; the fires were lighted; the squaws and children assembled; indeed, the same scene was enacted which I had seen gone through with Noggin. The fire was actually scorching my feet, and the smoke was ascending into my nostrils, when the sky grew dark and a terrific snow-storm commenced. Down it came like a sheet upon the earth and speedily put out the fires. The red-skins rushed into their wigwams. I was dragged back into the one where I had passed the night, and was told that my death was postponed till the next day. I resolved to make use of the time of grace; still my prospect of escape was slight indeed. A stout thong of buffalo-hide was fastened round my neck, and secured to one of the beams which ran across the top of the wigwam; thongs fastened my wrists and ankles, and cut deeply into my flesh; and my guards, squatted closely around, seemed inclined never to take their eyes off me. Every now and then they addressed me and told me for my comfort that I should eat fire in the morning; I wished that they would go to sleep, and, at all events, leave me in peace.

“At last four of them lay down, and I knew by their snoring that they were really unconscious of the present. Two of them still sat up and kept talking at me, describing the horrors I was to go through. At length one of those two lay down, and now only one old man remained awake; I thought he would never cease talking, and smoking, and tormenting me. On he talked; never have I seen a more hideous or vicious old fellow. I tried in vain not to listen. However, at last his voice grew thick, and more and more indistinct; his pipe went out, and his head dropped on his breast.

“Not a moment was to be lost; I tugged and tugged at the thongs which bound my wrists. My heart beat so quick and loud that I thought the sound would awaken my captors. My struggles freed my wrists, and I soon had my ankles free, but the tough, well-seasoned buffalo-hide rope round my neck resisted all my efforts to loosen it. Daylight was approaching. The noise I made, or my loud breathing, roused up the old man. I thought all was lost. Placing my hands behind me, I pretended to be dozing. He got up, stirred the fire, and then sat down again. Oh, how anxiously I waited for him to go to sleep again! Once more his head dropped on his breast, and he snored. That was the sweetest noise I had heard for a long time.

“I had gnawed and tugged at the thong round my neck in vain; but I knew that what a steady strain will not accomplish a sudden jerk may do. I seized the thong with the grasp of despair, gave it two or three rapid pulls, and to my joy it parted. I was free, but still I had many dangers to encounter. A watchful dog or a sleepless Indian might discover me. Treading with the caution I knew was so necessary, I passed between the bodies of the sleeping red-skins and stepped out into the open air. The cold restored my strength. I looked around on every side. The stars were shining brightly above my head, and the lodges of my enemies lay around in the dark shadow of the forest. The neighing of a horse showed me where some of the steeds of the tribe were tethered. I ran towards the spot. I had no time for selection. I threw myself on the back of the first animal I found. The first faint streaks of dawn were already appearing in the eastern sky. Not an instant had I to lose. I should, I knew, be very speedily pursued. I scarcely had time to consider in which direction I should go. The thong which still hung round my neck served me for a bridle. I looked up at the bright stars, and turned the horse’s head towards the south. One thing only I could resolve on—not to pull rein till I was beyond the reach of pursuit. I soon found that I had got one of the best horses of the whole stud.

“Away I went galloping over the snow, fleet as the wind. I could not conceal my trail; but if I had the best steed and an hour’s start, I might keep ahead of my pursuers, and fall in with some friendly tribe, or by some other means obtain assistance before I was overtaken. My horse was a noble animal. He had, I doubt not, been stolen not long before from the whites, and he seemed glad to have a white man again on his back. Poor beast! I did not spare him. Full fifty miles I went without pulling rein. Then I threw myself off and turned his head to the wind to let him regain his strength. But few minutes only I halted; I either heard my pursuers or thought I heard them. Again I mounted and galloped on as before. The noble brute seemed to know the importance of haste. Oh, how willingly he went up steep hills, down wild valleys, across streams, over the most rugged ground—nothing stopped him. We came to a broad river. It was frozen over with a sheet of smooth ice, from which the wind had blown the snow. Still on he went, slipping and sliding. Several times I thought he would be down, and yet I dared not check him; but he recovered himself and reached the opposite side in safety. Sometimes we were almost buried in the snow.

“On the other side of the river we plunged into a deep snow-drift; but he plunged on, and, planting his feet on firm ground, sprung upward again, and on he went breasting the side of a steep hill. We gained the summit. I looked back for an instant. I thought I could discern in the far distance several black spots. I was sure that they were my pursuers. On I went along the ridge of the mountain. It was stony and free from snow, and I hoped that if my pursuers should discover my trail across the ice they might possibly here lose it. This thought gave me fresh courage. I came to the end of the ridge and descended into the plain. My noble steed was becoming much distressed. Still I valued my life more than his. As long as he could go I must make him go. On he went. Full eighty miles had been passed over since dawn. Neither my horse nor I had tasted food. Still I dared not stop. Across the plain we went. Nearly another ten miles were gone over. I felt my horse’s legs staggering under him. He breathed heavily, his pace slackened; still he endeavoured to spring forward. He staggered more and more, and I had barely time to throw myself off when down he came to the ground. Once he tried to rise, but again he fell, and his glassy eye told me too plainly that he had destroyed himself in his efforts to save me. Who but the base-hearted would be unmerciful to man’s most serviceable and sagacious of friends? I had no time to stop and mourn for my gallant steed. Casting but another look on him I ran on over the ground as rapidly as my legs would carry me. I never stopped; I never looked behind me. I knew that nothing would turn aside my blood-thirsty pursuers. Night came on; still I ran without slacking my speed.

“I had been in motion since the morning without food, still the dread of falling into the power of my savage foes gave me supernatural strength. A wood lay before me; I plunged into it. I still could distinguish my course by the stars, and I hoped that my pursuers would be unable to make out my trail. This hope gave me fresh courage, but my strength was failing me, and in a short time, gasping for breath, I fell to the ground, and the blood gushed out of my mouth. I thought I was going to die like my poor horse, but after a time I felt better, and hope revived once more. I lay still in the hopes of recovering my strength. I did not wish to sleep; indeed I knew how dangerous it would be to attempt to do so. As I lay on my back, I saw the moon slowly rise above the still trees, and shed a bright light over the landscape. I gazed at it for some time; then I recollected that by its light my pursuers would certainly be able to follow up my trail. Instantly I sprang to my feet, stiff and full of pains as I felt, and on once more I went. I came at last to a rugged hill. I climbed it, and following the stony ridge for some way, descended into the plain on the opposite side. On I ran. As before, I thought I heard the shouts and threatening cries of my enemies, and fancied that they must have got to the side of the mountain I was on by some other path. As long as I had any strength I determined to run on.

“Day at last dawned; I entered a wood. I had my knife in my pocket. I dug up some earth-nuts, and chewed some snow. I felt revived, but my legs refused to carry me farther. I discovered a hole full of leaves, I threw myself into it; I listened with intense anxiety for any sounds made by my pursuers. I could hear none. Exhausted nature at length gave way, and I slept. Whether I slept more than a whole day, or only a few hours, I cannot tell. My first impulse was to spring up and continue my flight. But before I left the wood I remembered that I must have more food, so I dug up a further supply of nuts, and then dashed away as before across the plain. I looked hastily around me, but could see no pursuers. Still I knew too well their pertinacity and their devices, to suppose that they would desist from following me, till I was actually in a place of safety. On I went, therefore, rejoicing in the darkness.

“Suddenly as I went along I heard some strange sounds. These were human voices. I became aware that I was passing near a large body of Indians. They were not my pursuers, but, till I could ascertain who they were, I would on no account intrust myself with them. To turn back was as hazardous as to proceed, so on I went. They heard me, and came after me. I expected to lose my scalp after all, when you, my friends, came to my rescue, and here I am; rather battered, I own, but still able and willing to pull a trigger for our mutual defence.”