With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“We all right now, Massa Mike,” sang out Dio; “dis is de wood: we get off and build a hut under some of dese trees.”

On dismounting, as Dio proposed, I found that the snow was scarcely an inch deep. By creeping about we discovered a clump of trees, under the lee of which but little snow had rested. We could feel that there was grass, and were consequently sure that our horses would not stray from the spot. We therefore took off the saddles and saddle-bags, and, having put on their halters instead of their bridles, left them to feed, while we broke off, from the lower branches and bushes, a sufficient amount of dead wood to kindle a fire. It was somewhat doubtful, however, whether the wind would allow us to light it, or if we succeeded in doing so, whether it would scatter the sparks about, and perhaps ignite some of the underwood, so as to set the whole forest in a blaze. Against such a catastrophe as this we had especially to guard. The idea also occurred to me that possibly some old bear might have taken up its winter-quarters in the hollow trunk of one of the trees, but I was satisfied from Boxer’s quiet behaviour that such was not likely to be the case; he followed close at my heels wherever I went, and I knew that he would spring forward, should any savage animal be near, to do battle in my defence. Dio and I kept talking the whole time, that we might not run the risk of being separated. As I was groping about, I observed a luminous appearance, somewhat like the embers of a fire, though of a paler hue. It was a mass of touchwood in the hollow of a tree. I put my hand in and broke off a lump. Though it would not afford flame itself, it would enable us to kindle a blaze. Close below it I discovered a quantity of dry leaves, and we now had the means of making what we so much required, a fire to warm our benumbed limbs. No hunter in the prairies is ever without a flint and steel, and we soon had a cheerful fire, burning away between the roots of a thick tree, round which we crouched with our buffalo robes over our shoulders, Boxer joining us to enjoy the warmth. We had had no food since the morning, and as we began to grow warm our hunger also increased.

“Where are the saddle-bags?” I asked, thinking they were close at hand.

“I put dem down whar’ we unsaddled the horses—I go get dem,” said Dio. Jumping up he speedily returned with them, bringing also the saucepan and tin mugs, with a water-bottle which was still quite full, but he left the saddles, where they had been first placed on the ground. Our hunger made us immediately apply to the contents of the saddle-bags, while we put on our saucepan to brew some tea, which served more quickly than anything else to restore warmth to our bodies. Poor Boxer, however, came off but badly, as we could only afford to give him a small portion of the bacon and bread, being disappointed of the game we hoped to shoot to feed him. As to building a hut, besides the difficulty of obtaining materials, both Dio and I were so fatigued, that once having sat down we felt no inclination to move about more than was necessary. All we could do, indeed, was to collect a further supply of wood to keep up our fire. On looking at my watch I found that it wanted scarcely three hours to morning. I felt by this time an overpowering inclination to sleep, and Dio, I saw by the way he uttered his words, was affected in the same manner. As far as we could judge the snow continued to come down as heavily as before, but as we were protected by the thick overhanging limbs of the trees, very little fell on us. We could hear our horses cropping the grass, where we had tethered them, and we hoped they would obtain sufficient to enable them to continue the journey the next day. To keep awake any longer I found was impossible, so, drawing my blanket tightly round me, I lay down with my feet towards the fire, as near as I could venture to place them without fear of being burned. Dio was already asleep, and I dropped off immediately afterwards. I do not know how long it was after I had closed my eyes, when I became conscious that Boxer was crawling close to me, licking my face, trembling and whining in a peculiar manner. I was, however, so heavy with sleep, that I did not comprehend for some time the cause of this. Finding that he could not rouse me, he rushed across to Dio, whose voice I soon heard.

“Some ting de matter, Massa Mike. Wake up, wake up. Boxer know dat red-skin not far off.”

Boxer again came back to me and gave a pull at my blanket, which effectually awakened me.

“Red-skins!” I cried out, sitting up and listening. “I can hear nothing.”

“Boxer does dough,” answered Dio.

The fire had burnt low, a few glowing embers alone remained, insufficient to cast a light to any distance, I sprang up, intending to put some more wood on to kindle a blaze, when the sound of horses’ feet reached my ears. “Our animals have got loose at all events, and if we are not quick about it, we shall have a hard job to recover them,” I exclaimed.

Without a moment’s delay I dashed forward in the direction in which we had left the horses tethered, followed by Dio. They were both gone. If they had pulled up the tether-pegs, and we were under a mistake in supposing that Indians had carried them off, we might easily catch them in the morning. Should we follow them now, we might run the risk of losing ourselves, and indeed it was too dark to see their tracks in the snow; still, hoping that we might come up with them before we lost sight of our fire, we went on, until Dio stumbled over the trunk of a fallen tree, and I, knocking my head against a bough, was almost stunned. I heard Dio cry out, but I was too much hurt to reply. Boxer was close at my heels; he uttered a bark which brought the black to my assistance. In less than a minute I recovered.