With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Suddenly the dogs, which had been keeping alongside us, dashed forward, just at the moment that we, from the unevenness of the ground, were compelled to pull up. On reaching the summit of one of the undulations rather than hills, which rise in different parts of the prairie, we saw some objects in the distance which we both agreed must be waggons. As we got nearer we saw that two were upset, and that from a third smoke was ascending, while from another the tilt had been torn off, one only remaining intact.

“That must be the train we are in search of,” observed the Dominie; “it has too evidently been attacked by the Indians; but I see no one moving about. Perhaps the savages caught sight of us, and supposing that we were at the head of a large party, have gone off. We may be in time to help some of the poor people, if any have escaped with their lives, though I fear the worst, as the redskins seldom leave their work half finished, and the chances are that all the white men have been killed.”

We rode forward as fast as the rugged nature of the ground would allow, prepared at any moment to wheel round and gallop back should we catch sight of the savages.

We hoped, however, as the dogs did not return, that we should have no trouble on that account. We were still at some distance from the waggons, when we heard a loud yelping and barking.

“Those sounds came from a pack of wolves,” exclaimed Mr Tidey; “I see the brutes, they are calling to each other, expecting to enjoy a banquet on the dead bodies of the slain.”

Directly afterwards we caught sight of the animals making their way through the brushwood and trees which surrounded the waggons. Above their hideous yelps we could distinguish the deep honest bark of our own dogs. Forgetting for the moment the risk we ran of being surprised, we put spurs to our horses, and galloping over the uneven ground soon got up to the spot. Neither cattle nor horses were visible, they had evidently been carried off. The scene which soon met our eyes filled us with horror.

On the ground lay half-a-dozen men, each of whom had been scalped and their bodies partly stripped. Farther on were two or three more, who had fallen between the waggons. Some of the wolves, more daring than their companions, had advanced at the head of the pack, and would already have commenced the horrible repast had not our two noble dogs, barking furiously, kept them at bay.

“I am afraid we are too late here to be of any use except to bury the dead,” observed Mr Tidey as we surveyed the melancholy scene. “But holloa! what is that among the bushes? A woman,—I see her moving. Perhaps we may be in time to save her.”

Forgetting that the Indians might still be at hand, we dismounted, and fastening our horses to the wheels of one of the waggons, made our way through the brushwood. As we did so, a couple of wolves approached from an opposite direction, and were on the point of seizing the woman’s body, when Boxer and his companion springing forward, they took to flight. We hurried to the assistance of the poor woman. We now saw that it was not she who had moved, but a little girl whose arms were thrown round her.

“Oh! come help Lily!” exclaimed the child, at once recognising us as white men: “look up mother! oh, mother, mother! speak to Lily, one word. White man come to help you, no fear now.”