Dick Onslow Among the Redskins

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Every instant I expected to be tripped up by its tough roots which trailed along the earth, but my companion, who was well accustomed to the sort of ground, kept me from falling. I asked him, as we ran, why he did not stop, and, as I knew to be the custom, cut down and burn a clear space round us, so as to let the conflagration pass by on either side.

“‘The deer and buffaloes, and other wild animals, would rush through the space and trample us to death,’ he answered. ‘Even now I hear the sound of their hoofs in the distance—haste! haste!’

“I tried to listen as I ran, and I fancied that I did hear a low, murmuring, hollow sound, which had a peculiarly terror-inspiring effect. The wind blew stronger, the air became denser and more oppressive, and the ashes fell thicker around us. We distinctly heard the noise of the rushing flames. The rock towards which we were running rose before us, but, yet near as it was, the fire came roaring on so rapidly that I fully expected it to overtake us. On it came, hissing and crackling. The air grew hotter and hotter, and more and more oppressive. As I struggled on I felt as if I could scarcely move my limbs. It was like a dreadful dream, when a person fancies that danger is near, and that he cannot fly from it. I gasped for breath. The Indian also was much distressed. Some things men can get accustomed to, but to have to run for one’s life, with a prairie-fire roaring at one’s side, one does not like a bit more the tenth time it is encountered than the first. ‘On! on!’ cried out the faithful Delaware. He could run faster than I could, but still he delayed for me. Besides the crackling and hissing of the fire, there was a loud, roaring, trampling, crushing, thundering sound, or mixture of sounds, utterly indescribable. The rock was reached—we clambered up it. We gained the summit. It was a wide, open space, entirely free of grass.

“Almost fainting, I was sinking to the ground, when I saw the Delaware pointing to the plain below us.

There, across the ground we had just left, came tearing along, in strange confusion, herds of buffaloes, deer, wolves, foxes, prairie-hares, several bears, and even birds, turkeys, prairie-hens, and other wild fowl, all uttering their peculiar cries of terror, and utterly disregarding each other. Not one stopped to prey on another.

“One feeling of intense terror inspired the whole mass. On they flew, fleet as the wind; all they seemed to think of was that the fire was behind them, and that, unless they would be destroyed, they must fly. Some were left dead or wounded; the weak trampled on by the stronger; but still on scampered the mass, with the fire raging at their heels. I saw what would have been our fate, had we not reached the rock before the herd passed by, and I thanked Heaven that we had been preserved. We remained on the rock for some hours, till the ground below was cool enough to enable us to proceed; but, after the heat of the fire, the air felt bitterly cold, and we had no shelter from it. I do not think we could have endured it during the night. We descended, and began to cross the remainder of the plain, but even then our feet struck up sparks from the yet smouldering ashes, and light clouds of smoke rose up continually, circling round our heads till they were dispersed in the clear atmosphere.

“Desolate, dismal, and barren looked the country through which we journeyed on the following day. Not a vestige remained of animal life, but here and there appeared the skinless skulls and bones of some huge buffalo or stately stag, which had long lain there blanching in the sun. The sky had for some time been overcast. The Delaware pointed towards it. ‘The winter is coming,’ he observed; ‘this is not the place to be overtaken in a snow-storm.’ I agreed with him; so, in spite of the fatigue which, after my wounds and loss of blood, I felt in a way I had never before done, I dragged my heavy legs after him. We reached about nightfall a clump of trees. Under their shelter we lighted our fire, cooked our provisions, and lay down to rest. Nature required rest. Often have I thought of those words: ‘The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.’ Constituted as man is, what a blessing truly is the Sabbath! how sweet, how necessary is rest!

“We rose before daybreak, stirred up our fire, cooked and ate our breakfast, and, as the light of dawn found its way through the trees which surrounded us, we started on our way. The sky was ominously dark, but the snow had not yet begun to fall, yet the piercing air told us that it would not long be delayed. The Delaware spoke but little. He evidently did not like the state of things. I had made up my mind from the first to be guided by his judgment. One thing was very certain, that we could not stop where we were. Our only chance of safety depended on our pushing on. ‘Where to?’ I thought. I saw nothing but the wide-rolling, blackened prairie before me. The sight alone was depressing, independent of the anticipation of coming evil. Hour after hour passed. Not a break appeared in the clouds, not a gleam of sunshine burst forth to cheer us. Still the snow did not fall, and there was nothing to impede our progress. We stopped at noon to dine. A few minutes sufficed us for our frugal meal. The bitter cold did not tempt us to rest longer than was necessary.

“On again we went. ‘Where is the wood in which we are to pass the night?’ I asked of the Delaware. ‘It is yet far-off,’ was his unsatisfactory answer. Evening was drawing on. I saw a bleak hill, but no wood capable of affording us shelter. Just then a snowflake settled on my face. It was a slight thing. How indifferent should I have been to it at other times! Now it made my heart sink lower than it had ever done before. Another and another fell; then down the snowflakes came rapidly, thickly sprinkling the ground and our garments. The wind sent them driving against us over the prairie. The Delaware pointed to the hill. On towards it we pushed. The snow in a few minutes completely covered the ground, a sheet of white was spread out where lately all had been black, here and there only the taller tufts of grass appearing above it. There was no prospect of the snow ceasing to fall. Soon it covered our moccasins and reached to our ankles. Walking became more and more difficult. It was half-way up to our knees, still we pushed on. My companion remained silent. I did not trouble him by asking questions. He had hopes of escaping, or he would, I thought, very likely have sat down where he was and quietly awaited his fate. Had he done so, it would have been my business to rouse him to exertion. The snow fell thicker and thicker. Daylight was rapidly decreasing. It grew less and less. All we could see was the sheet of snow immediately surrounding us. Still my companion went steadily on.