With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Let no one fire until they are half-way across, and then don’t throw a shot away,” cried my father, as the rest of the men joined us.

The leading waggons formed in line along the bank. The savages, unwilling to lose so rich a prize as they hoped to obtain by the capture of our train, came galloping forward, shouting and shrieking as before.

“Let them whoop again as loud as they like, but they’ll not frighten us,” cried Martin Prentis; “we’ll give them a British cheer in return,” and raising his voice, every person joining, a cheer was uttered which must have astonished the redskins: their pace slackened, but still they advanced, encouraged by a chief, who, waving a spear, rode on ahead. He was not aware how far our bullets could reach.

Uncle Denis, raising his rifle, took a steady aim. The steed galloped on a few yards, when the chief, waving his spear and shouting to the last, fell dead to the ground. His followers, coming up, reined in their horses, uttering loud wails, and then, wheeling round, bore him away with them, nor stopped until they were out of sight. As they made no further attempt to recover the bodies of those who had before fallen, it was an acknowledgment of their complete defeat, and we had reason to hope that we should not be further molested. We now set busily to work to form our camp, to cut wood for our fire, keeping, notwithstanding our success, a vigilant watch on all sides. It was possible that other bands of Indians might be on the western bank of the river and that we should still have to fight our way to the fort.

The night passed tranquilly by, and the next morning we proceeded as before. The apparently boundless prairie stretched out ahead, covered chiefly with long grass and here and there small bushes, which the buffalo and deer had allowed to struggle into existence. We advanced as rapidly as we could, steering by the compass, the scenery monotonous in the extreme, not a hill to be seen to break the wide circle of the horizon. One advantage was that we could not be taken by surprise, as we could see for a long distance any enemy which might approach us. We found numberless skeletons of buffaloes as well as their wallows, though we had not hitherto fallen in with any to which we might give chase.

Mr Tidey and I were, as usual, leading ahead, taking care always to keep the train in view. Every now and then he stood up in his stirrups, in the hopes of seeing buffalo, but no buffalo appeared. We, however, after proceeding about a dozen miles from the river, saw away to the left, over a wide extent of ground, a number of small hillocks, which, had I been on foot, I might have mistaken for a range of hills in the distance. As it would not take us much out of our way, we rode towards them, when, as we approached we saw to our surprise that the top of every mound was occupied either by a small animal or a bird of an owl-like appearance, which appeared to be watching the rest of the community, employed in cropping the grass or running about in the immediate neighbourhood.

As the little creatures perceived us, they rushed to their look-out station at the top of the mounds, while at the same moment a number of small heads popped up from holes in the ground, and we were saluted by a chorus of sharp, angry barks, while the animals shook their sides and wagged their tails at every bark, as if they would wag them off; then, having thus exhibited either their pleasure or fear—it was difficult to say which—uttering a fresh volley of barks, they rushed headlong into their burrows, wagging their tails to the last as they disappeared beneath the surface. The little owls, however, kept their posts and regarded us with their round eyes, utterly destitute of fear.

I burst into a fit of laughter. “What are these funny creatures, I wonder?” I asked.

“They are prairie dogs, and we have fallen in with a prairie dog town, though I little expected to find one so far north,” answered the Dominie; “we should farther away find them covering acres of ground. It is said that an owl and a rattle-snake are invariably to be found in each hole, living in perfect amity with its inmates, but I suspect that although rattlesnakes are often to be found in the abodes of the small rodents, their object in going there is rather to devour the young prairie dogs than for any friendly purpose, though it is possible that the owls take up their residence among them for the sake of society.”

The animals we were watching were of the size of a rabbit, with hair like that of a rat, the colour being of a light red, resembling the squirrel. Their tails, however, instead of curling over, stood straight up over their backs and seemed formed for the express purpose of wagging, which they did to a prodigious amount. They are of the most sociable disposition, and are generally found living in large colonies on the prairies. We watched for a minute or two, but they did not again show their noses above the ground. No sooner, however, had we turned our horses’ heads, and begun to ride off, than we were saluted by a chorus of barks, which was kept up until we were out of hearing.