The Boy Hunters

Lucien was right. The animal was hit, or the wolves would not have embarked in a chase so hopeless as the pursuit of a prong-horn; for, strange to say, these cunning creatures can tell when game has been wounded better than the hunters themselves, and very often pursue and run it down, when the latter believes it to have escaped! It was evident, therefore, that Basil had hit the animal – though not in a deadly part – and the wolves were now following with the hope of hunting it down.

A new idea came into Basil’s mind. He thought he might yet be in at the death; and with this idea he ran up to his horse, drew the picket-pin, and leaping upon his bare back, directed him after the chase. He was soon in full gallop over the prairie, keeping the wolves in sight as he went. He could see the antelope, he had fired at, some distance ahead of the wolves, but far behind the rest of the herd, and evidently running heavily and with pain.

It cost the young hunter a five-mile gallop; and, at the end of that, while he was yet half-a-mile in the rear, he saw the wolves come up with the wounded antelope, and drag it down upon the prairie. He made all the haste he could – putting Black Hawk to the top of his speed. In a few minutes he was upon the ground, and scattered the wolves as he galloped among them; but once more he had arrived too late. The body of the antelope was torn to pieces, and more than half devoured; while only half-picked bones and pieces of skin remained to reward him for his long ride!

With an ejaculation, which came very near being a French oath, the disappointed hunter turned his horse, and rode slowly back – wishing the wolves far enough as he went.

When he returned, François assisted him in his maledictions; for François was tired of the bear-meat, and was vexed at being thus a second time cheated out of something fresh for supper.

Lucien, however, assured them both that the flesh of the antelope, as he had heard, was “no great eating,” after all; and this, in some degree, pacified them – so that, with a stew of the jerked bear and parsnips, and some piñon bread, which Lucien had prepared according to the Indian fashion, all three made a supper that was not to be sneered at under any circumstances. When it was eaten, they brought their horses closer to the camp – so as to have them near in case of necessity – and, having wrapped themselves in their blankets, they once more sought the refreshment of sleep.

Chapter Twenty Eight.

Scattering the Cimmarons

This night they were not permitted to sleep without interruption. Two or three times their horses bounded about at the end of their trail-ropes, frightened by some prowling animal. It might be wolves, thought they; but the dog Marengo, who did not mind the wolves, showed symptoms of terror, growling savagely it intervals, but all the while keeping in by the camp. The mule Jeanette, too, came close up to the fire – as near as her rope would allow her – and our adventurers could see that she trembled, as if in fear of some well-known enemy! Several times they could distinguish, amidst the howling of the wolves, a strange sound, differing altogether from the voices of the latter. It was a kind of continued snort, uttered in a low and querulous tone; and when uttered, it always caused Jeanette to start, and Marengo to crouch closer to them. Could it be the voice of the cougar? or, more fearful thought still, the snort of the grizzly bear? The latter was not unlikely. They were now in a region where these fierce animals are to be met with; and just in such a spot as one or more of them would choose for their abode.

It was a fearful apprehension, and it would have banished sleep from the eyes of the young hunters had they been certain that grizzly bears were in their neighbourhood. They were not certain, however; still they resolved not to sleep all at one time, but to keep watch in turns. The fire was replenished with fresh wood, so that the blaze would enable them to see for a good distance around; and then two of them lay down to sleep again, while the third watched, sitting up with his piece in readiness for any sudden attack. Each took a two-hours’ turn as sentinel until the morning broke, which put an end to their fears, as no enemy appeared to be near them.

They now bestirred themselves, let loose their horses upon the grass, performed their ablutions in the crystal water of the spring, and made ready their breakfast. They did not fail to observe, that their stock of the jerked meat could serve them but a day or two longer; for the wolves at their last camp had carried off a considerable portion of it. They were not without fears as to their future subsistence, as there seemed to be no game in that part of the country except antelopes; and their experience already taught them how little chance they had of capturing these. Should they not fall in with the buffalo, therefore, they might starve with hunger.

These thoughts occupied them while engaged in preparing and eating breakfast; and they resolved to go on half rations of the bear-meat, and economise the little of it that was left.

After breakfast they held a council as to their future route. Should they go north, south, east, or west, from the butte? They were of different minds. At length, however, they all agreed that before coming to any determination, it would be best to climb the butte, and from its top get a view of the surrounding country, which might enable them to resolve upon the best route to be taken. Perhaps they might see the buffaloes from its summit – as it, no doubt, commanded an extensive view of the prairie on all sides.

Shouldering their guns, and leaving their blankets and utensils by the spring, they started on foot to find a place where they might ascend the eminence. They went round by the western end, for their camp was near its north-east side. As they proceeded, they began to fear that there was no place where the hill could be climbed. On all sides it appeared to be a precipice rising perpendicularly from the plain! Here and there loose rocks lay at its base, as if they had fallen from above; and trees grew out of its face, clinging by their roots in the seams of the cliff. Scattered pines standing upon its topmost edge, stretched their branches out over the plain; and the aloe plants, the yuccas, and cacti, added to the wild picturesqueness of its appearance.

On reaching the westernmost point of the butte, a new object presented itself to the eyes of our adventurers. It resembled a range of cliffs, or low mountains, at a great distance off to the west, and running from north to south as far as they could see. It was, in fact, a range of cliffs – similar to those of the butte. It was the eastern escarpment of the famous “Llano Estacado,” or “Staked Plain.” The boys had often heard hunters speak of this tableland, and they recognised its features at a glance. The butte around which they were travelling was nothing more than an outlying “mesa” of this singular formation of the prairies.

After gazing, for a moment, on the far-off bluffs, our young hunters continued on their course, keeping around the southern side of the eminence. Still the cliffs rose perpendicularly, and offered no slope by which they might be scaled. They appeared even higher on this side; and in some places hung over, with dark jutting rocks, and large trees growing horizontally outward.

At one place the boys had halted, and were gazing upward, when several strange-looking creatures suddenly appeared upon the edge of the precipice above them. They were animals, but such as they had never seen before. Each of them was as large as a common deer, and nearly of the same colour – reddish upon the back and flanks, though the throat, hips, and under parts, were of a whitish hue. They were nearly deer-shaped, though of somewhat stouter proportions, and to these they bore a strong resemblance in many other respects. In the form of their heads and general expression of their faces they resembled sheep more than any other animals. But the most singular part of them was the horns; and these enabled our hunters at a glance to tell what sort of animals they were. They were the “cimmarons,” or wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains.

In regard to their horns, they differed very much from one another; and at first sight there appeared to be two distinct species of animals. Some of them had short horns – not over six inches in length – rising from the crown of the head and bending slightly backward, without widening much between the tips. These were the females of the flock. The males, however, presented an appearance altogether different, owing to the immense size of their horns. These grew out immediately over their eyes, first curving backwards, and then forwards again, until their points nearly touched the jaws of the animals on both sides. The horns of some were more than a yard in length, and quite half as much in circumference at the base, where they were deeply indented with ring-like grooves and protuberances, such as are seen in those of the common ram. These huge appendages gave the creatures a singular and imposing appearance, as they stood out upon the brink of the precipice outlined against the blue sky. There were about a dozen of them in all – both males and females, – but the males could be more plainly seen, as they were farther forward upon the cliff, looking down and snuffing the tainted air.

As soon as our young hunters had recovered from their first surprise at this novel sight, all three levelled their pieces with the intention of firing. But the cimmarons seemed to have guessed their design; for, as the guns were pointed upward, they wheeled, and were out of sight in a twinkling.

The boys remained on the spot for more than a quarter of an hour, in hopes that the animals would again make their appearance on the precipice above. The latter, however, did not return. They had satisfied their curiosity; or else, wiser than the antelopes, they were not going to let it lure them into danger. Our hunters, therefore, were at length constrained to leave the spot, and continue their search for a path that might lead upward.

They were now more anxious than ever to reach the summit of the butte. There was a flock of wild sheep upon it, and from these they hoped to replenish their larder. As they proceeded, every crevice or ravine that seemed to lead up the cliff was carefully examined; but upon all its southern front no practicable path could be discovered.

“There must be some way up,” said François, “else how could the sheep have got there?”

“Maybe,” suggested Basil, “they were bred up there, and have never been down to the plain.”

“No,” said Lucien, “that is not likely, brother. There can be no water, I think, upon the table above; and these animals require drink as well as others. They must descend occasionally to the spring for it.”

“Then there is a path,” said François.

“No doubt, for them there is,” replied Lucien; “but for all that, we may not be able to follow it. These animals, although hoofed as sheep are, can scale a cliff like cats, or spring down one like squirrels. It is in that way they are enabled to escape from wolves, panthers, and other beasts who would prey upon them.”

“I have heard,” said Basil, “that they can fling themselves down for a hundred feet or more upon their horns, without receiving the slightest injury. Is that true, Luce?”

“Both the Indians and trappers affirm it, and intelligent travellers have believed them. Whether it be true or not is a question among naturalists, that remains to be cleared up. It is certain that they can leap downward for a very great distance – that they can alight on the narrowest shelves of a precipice without a hoof slipping – that they can spring across fearful chasms, and run swiftly along ledges where a dog or a wolf would not dare to venture. Indeed, they seem to delight in such situations – as if it gave them a pleasure to court danger, just as a school-boy likes to luxuriate in perilous feats of agility.”

“Are these the same that are called ‘big-horns’ by the hunters?” demanded François.

“The same,” answered Lucien; “‘cimmaron’ is the name given by the Spaniards – the earliest explorers of these regions. Naturalists have named them ‘argali,’ from their resemblance to the argali (Ovis ammon), or wild sheep of Europe. They are not the same species, however. In my opinion, they are not wild sheep at all, but true antelopes, as much so as the chamois of the Alps, or the prong-horns of the prairie. Indeed, to say that our common sheep sprung from the argali seems a very absurd theory. There is but little resemblance between the two animals, except about the head and horns of the rams; and, I think, no circumstances could have caused such a difference as there exists between them in other respects. I should say, then, that the big-horns are not sheep, but antelopes —mountainantelopes, you might call them, to distinguish them from their prong-horned cousins, who prefer to range over the plains, while they, on the contrary, spend most of their time among the steep and craggy cliffs.”

An exclamation from Basil, who was walking a few paces in advance, at this moment summoned the attention of his brothers, and put an end to this conversation. They had arrived at the eastern end of the butte, which on that side presented a different appearance from either of the others. There was a deep ravine that indented the cliff, and along its channel a sloping path appeared to lead up to the top. This channel was filled with large loose rocks, surrounded by an underwood of cacti and acacia thorns; and it seemed as though the slope was sufficiently easy to be ascended by a person on foot. Near the bottom of the ravine were very large boulders; and a spring, more copious than the one where the hunters had encamped, ran out from among them, and flowed south-eastward through a fringe of grass and willows.

As the boys came up to the spring branch, some tracks in the soft mud drew their attention. They were of an oblong shape, and larger than the footprints of a man; but the deep holes made by five great claws at the end of each told what animal had made them. They were the tracks of the grizzly bear. There could be no doubt of this, for there were the prints of the long plantigrade feet, the tubercules of the toes, and the holes where the curving claws had sunk several inches into the mud. No other animal could have made such marks – not even the black or brown bear, whose claws are short in comparison with those of the grizzly monster of the mountains.

For some moments our hunters hesitated under feelings of alarm; but, as the animal that had made the tracks was not in sight, their fears gradually subsided to some extent, and they began to consider what was best to be done. Should they go up the ravine, and endeavour to reach the summit? This would only be carrying out their original intention, and they would have started upward without hesitation, had they not discovered the bear-tracks. Seeing these, however, had put a new aspect on the matter. If there were grizzly bears in the neighbourhood – and this seemed very certain – the ravine was the most likely place to find them in. Its thick underwood, with the numerous crevices that, like caverns, appeared among the rocks on each side, were just such places as grizzly bears delight in. Their lair might be in this very ravine, and it would be a dangerous business to stumble upon it in passing up. But our young hunters were full of courage. They had a keen desire to ascend the butte – partly out of curiosity, and partly to get a shot at the big-horns – and this desire triumphed over prudence. They resolved to carry through what they had begun; and at length commenced to ascend, Basil taking the lead.

It was severe climbing withal; and now and again they had to pull themselves up by laying hold of branches and roots. They noticed that there was a trail, which they followed upward. No doubt the big-horns, or some other animals, had made this trail as they passed up and down – though it was only distinguishable by a slight discoloration upon the rocks, and by the earth being packed firmer in some places, as if by hoofs or feet. A little better than half-way up the boys observed a fissure, like the entrance of a cave, on one side of the ravine and close to the trail. Around this the earthy colour of the rocks, the absence of herbage, and the paddled appearance of the soil, suggested the idea that some animal made its den there. They passed it in silence, climbing as quickly as the nature of the ground would allow them, and looking backwards with fear. In a few minutes they had reached the escarpment of the butte; and, raising themselves by their hands they peeped over, and at once obtained a view of its whole table-like summit.

It was, as they had conjectured, perfectly level upon the top, with an area-surface of about twenty or thirty acres. Pine-trees grew thinly over it, with here and there a bush or two of acacia, the species known as “mezquite.” There was plenty of grass among the trees, and large tussocks of “bunch grass” mingling with cactus and aloe plants, formed a species of undergrowth. This, however, was only at two or three spots, as for the most part the surface was open, and could be seen at a single view. The hunters had hardly elevated their heads above the cliff, when the herd of big-horns became visible. They were at the moment near the western extremity of the table; and, to the astonishment of all, they appeared leaping over the ground as if they were mad! They were not attempting to escape; for they had not as yet noticed the boys, who, on getting above, had crept cautiously behind some bushes. On the contrary, the animals were skipping about in different directions at the same time, and bounding high into the air. After a moment it was observed that only those with the large horns were taking part in this exercise, while the others were browsing quietly near them. It was soon evident what the males were about. They were engaged in a fierce conflict; and their angry snorts, with the loud cracking of their horns, told that they were in terrible earnest. Now they backed from each other – as rams usually do – and anon they would dash forward until their heads met with a crash, as though the skulls of both had been splintered by the concussion. Sometimes two fought by themselves, and at other times three or four of them would come together, as if it mattered little which was the antagonist. They all appeared to be equally the enemies of one another. Strange to say, the ewes did not seem to trouble themselves about the matter. Most of these were feeding quietly, or if at times they looked up towards their belligerent lords, it was with an air of nonchalance and indifference, as if they cared nothing at all about the result.

Our hunters felt confident that they had the whole flock in a trap. They had only to guard the pass by which they themselves had come up, and then hunt the big-horns over the table at their leisure. It was agreed, therefore, that Lucien with Marengo should remain there, while Basil and François stole up for a first shot. They lost no time in putting this plan into execution. They perceived that the fight completely occupied the attention of the animals; and, taking advantage of this, Basil and François crept over the ground – sheltering themselves, as well as they could – until they had got within easy range. Both arrived together behind a little clump of acacias; and, by a signal from Basil, they raised themselves together to take aim. As they did so, they saw one of the rams, who had been backing himself for a rush, suddenly disappear over the edge of the cliff! They thought he had tumbled over – as his legs were the last of him they had seen – but they had no time to speculate upon the matter, as both pulled trigger at the moment. Two of the animals were laid prostrate by their fire; while the rest bounded off, ran out to a point of the table, and there halted.

Basil and François leaped to their feet, shouting for Lucien to be on the alert: but, to their great surprise, the cimmarons, as if newly terrified by their shouts, and finding their retreat cut off, sprang over the precipice, disappearing instantly from view!

“They must be all killed,” thought Basil and François; and, calling Lucien to come up, all three ran to the point where the animals had leaped off, and looked over. They could see the plain below, but no big-horns! What had become of them?

“Yonder!” cried François; “yonder they go!” and he pointed far out upon the prairie where several reddish-looking objects were seen flying like the wind toward the far bluffs of the Llano Estacado. Lucien now directed the eyes of his brothers to several ledge-like steps upon the cliff, which, no doubt, the animals had made use of in their descent, and had thus been enabled to reach the bottom in safety.

As soon as the cimmarons were out of sight, the hunters turned towards the two that had been shot – both of which, a male and female, lay stretched upon the grass and quite dead. The boys were about to commence skinning them, when Basil and François remembered what they had observed just before firing; and, curious to convince themselves whether the big-horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by accident or leaped off by design, they walked forward to the spot. On looking over the edge, they saw a tree shaking violently below them, and among its branches a large red body was visible. It was the cimmaron; and, to their astonishment, they perceived that he was hanging suspended by one of his huge horns, while his body and legs, kicking and struggling, hung out at their full length in the empty air! It was evident he had tumbled from the top contrary to his intentions; and had been caught accidentally in the branches of the pine. It was a painful sight to witness the efforts of the poor creature; but there was no means of getting him off the tree, as he was far beyond their reach; and Basil, having loaded his rifle, in order to put an end to his agony, sent a bullet through his heart. The shot did not alter his position – as the horn still held on to the branch – but the animal ceased struggling and hung down dead, – to remain there, doubtless, until some hungry vulture should espy him from afar, and, swooping down, strip the flesh from his swinging carcass!

Chapter Twenty Nine.

Besieged by Grizzly Bears

The young hunters now laid aside their guns, drew their knives, and skinned the cimmarons with the dexterity of practised “killers.” They then cut up the meat, so as the more conveniently to transport it to their camp. The skins they did not care for; so these were suffered to remain on the ground where they had been thrown.

As soon as the “mutton” was quartered, each shouldered a piece, and commenced carrying it toward the ravine, intending to return and bring the rest at another load or two. On reaching the point where the path came up on the table, they saw that it would be difficult for them to descend with their burdens – as it is more easy to climb a precipice than to get down one. Another plan suggested itself; and that was, to pitch the pieces down before them to the bottom of the ravine. This they could accomplish without difficulty. It would do the meat no harm – as they intended to cut it up for jerking – and they could easily wash out the dirt and gravel at the spring, when they had got it all there.

This plan was at once adopted; and, taking up piece by piece they flung them down the chasm, and could see them lying among the rocks at the bottom. They then went back to the carcasses, took up fresh loads, and returned with them to the ravine.

As they stepped forward to fling them over, a sight met their eyes that caused each one to drop his load upon the spot. Down near the bottom of the ravine, and moving among the pieces of meat, was a hideous object – a huge and ill-shaped animal. Its great size – its long shaggy hair and greyish brown colour – but, above all, its fierce aspect, left no doubt upon the minds of our hunters as to what sort of animal it was. There was no mistaking the dreaded monster of the mountains – the grizzly bear!

It was nearly twice the size of the common bear; and it differed from the latter in other respects. Its ears were more erect; its eyes, of burnt sienna colour, looked more fiery and glaring; its head and muzzle were broader – giving it an appearance of greater boldness and strength – and its long crescent-shaped claws, protruding from the shaggy covering of its feet, could be distinctly seen from the top of the cliff. With these it had just torn one of the pieces of mutton into smaller fragments, and was eagerly devouring it as the boys arrived on the height above. It was so busily engaged that it did not notice them.

All three, as we have said, dropped their loads on the ground; and, after pausing for a moment to look down, ran precipitately back for their guns. These they got hold of, and examined with care, looking to their caps and nipples. They had already loaded them, before commencing to skin the cimmarons. They now stole cautiously back to the ravine, and again looked over its edge. To their consternation, not one bear, but three of these horrid animals were busy with the meat below! One was smaller than either of the others, and differed from them in colour. It was quite black; and might have passed for a full-grown bear of the black species. It was not that, however; but a large cub, of which the other two were the parents.

All three were tearing away at the fresh meat, evidently in high glee, and not caring to consider whence such a windfall had come, so long as they were getting the benefit of it. They occasionally uttered loud snorts – as if to express their gratification – and at intervals the old male one growled as the cub interfered with his eating. The female, on the contrary, as she tore the mutton into fragments, kept placing the daintiest morsels before the snout of her black progeny; and with playful strokes of her paw admonished it from time to time to fall to and eat. Sometimes they ate standing erect, and holding the meat between their fore-paws. At others they would place the piece upon a rock, and devour it at their leisure. Their jaws and claws were red with the blood – that still remained in the hastily-butchered meat – and this added to the ferocious aspect of the trio.

Our adventurers gazed down upon the scene with feelings of the utmost terror; and no wonder. They had heard such stories of the grizzly bear, as would have inspired stouter hearts than theirs with feelings of the kind. They knew that no hunter, when dismounted, ever dares to attack this animal; and, even when on horseback and armed with his trusty rifle, he will only venture to do so when the ground is open, and he is sure of escape through the fleetness of his horse. They knew that hunters, even when in large parties, are often chased by a single bear of this kind, after each of them had given him a shot; for as many as twenty bullets have been fired into the body of a grizzly bear without bringing him to the ground. All these facts came into the minds of our boy hunters at the moment. No wonder they felt fear.