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Frank on the Prairie

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CHAPTER X
Hanging a Bear

WHEN they arrived at the wagon, they found Mr. Winters and old Bob eating their dinner. Although not as fortunate as Dick’s party, they had not returned empty-handed, for the old trapper had killed a big-horn, and Mr. Winters had knocked over a large gray wolf. Thinking that Frank might want the skin of the latter to mount in his museum, he had taken it off very carefully, and stretched it on a frame to dry.

Archie’s adventure with the grizzly was duly discussed, and, for an hour after dinner, the boys sat by the fire listening to the trapper’s stories. But they could not long endure this inactivity – there was “no fun in it,” as Archie said – so they saddled their horses and set out for a ride over the prairie. They were not after game this time. If they had been, it is not at all probable they would have discovered any, for they raced their horses over the swells, and shouted loud enough to frighten all the animals for a mile around. About the middle of the afternoon they grew tired of their ride, and turned their horses toward the camp. As they rode slowly along, about half a mile from the willows that skirted the base of the mountains, Archie, who, as usual, was leading the way, suddenly drew up his horse, exclaiming:

“See there, Frank! There’s another of the varmints!”

Frank looked toward the willows, and saw a large grizzly bear, seated on his haunches, regarding them as if not at all concerned about their approach.

“We’re safe now, Archie,” said he, as soon as he had satisfied himself that the bear had not the slightest intention of seeking safety in flight. “A grizzly can’t outrun a horse, so let’s shoot at that fellow.”

“I – I – believe I’d rather not meddle with him,” answered his cousin, shrugging his shoulders. “I say, let him alone if he lets us alone. What if our horses should get frightened and throw us? Wouldn’t we be in a fix? But I’ll shoot at him from here.”

“Why, it’s too far,” said Frank. “I am going up nearer.” As he spoke, he put his horse into a gallop and rode toward the bear, which was still seated in the edge of the willows. Archie did not at all like the idea of provoking a fight with the animal; but, after a moment’s hesitation, he followed his cousin. There might be no danger after all, he thought, for that bear certainly could not catch Sleepy Sam. The grizzly still kept his seat, closely watching the movements of the hunters, and once or twice he seemed inclined to advance on them; but, after walking a few steps, he again seated himself, as if to await their approach.

The boys had gone but a short distance, when their horses discovered the animal, and Pete at once stopped, and refused to go any further. He had evidently had some experience in bear hunting, for the sight of the animal seemed to terrify him. Words had more effect than the spurs, for when Frank spoke encouragingly to him, he would advance a few steps, and then, as if suddenly recalling his former experience, he would hastily retreat. In this way, he succeeded in getting further and further away from the bear, instead of going toward it. Archie now took the lead, in hopes that his cousin could induce his horse to follow the old buffalo hunter; but Pete utterly refused to go any nearer, and Frank at length dismounted and prepared to risk a shot at the bear at long range. The animal accepted this as a challenge, for he arose to his feet, growling savagely, and made toward the boys at a rate of speed that astonished them.

When Frank dismounted, he was careful to retain a firm hold of Pete’s bridle, for the actions of the horse plainly indicated that, if left to himself, he would take to his heels, and get as far as possible away from the dangerous neighborhood. When he saw that the bear was coming toward him, he snorted and plunged, rendering it impossible for Frank to shoot; and, in fact, the latter had no desire to do so, when he found that the grizzly was about to assume the offensive. His first thought was to remount; but the horse was so terrified that he would not stand still long enough for Frank to place his foot in the stirrup.

“Hurry up, there!” exclaimed Archie, excitedly. “The rascal is coming fast. He means fight, sure enough.”

Pete evidently thought so too, for he reared and plunged worse than ever, pulling Frank about over the prairie in spite of all he could do. Suddenly there was a loud snap, and the bridle, broken close to the bit, was violently pulled through Frank’s hand. The next moment Pete had disappeared behind a swell. For an instant the cousins gazed at each other in dismay. On foot, Frank could not hope to escape from the bear, which, in spite of his clumsy appearance, was making his way toward them with surprising rapidity; neither could he disable him by a shot from his rifle. Before, he had been as cool and collected as he possibly could be, for he knew that he had a way of escape. But Pete seemed to have carried the last particle of his master’s courage away with him, for Frank’s hand trembled so violently that he knew it would be useless to fire at the bear. But still there was a chance for escape, and Archie was the first to think of it.

“Frank!” he exclaimed, “there’s only one way now – jump up behind me.”

His cousin was prompt to act upon the suggestion, and Sleepy Sam, in answer to a thrust from his master’s spurs, carried them both toward the camp at a rapid gallop.

They no longer thought of fighting the grizzly; their only desire was to reach the old bear’s hole as soon as possible, and procure the assistance of the trappers. They both thought that the animal would soon abandon the chase, and their only fear was, that before they could reach the camp and acquaint Dick with what had transpired, the bear would be safe among the mountains. But they soon discovered their mistake. The grizzly steadily followed them, and, although Sleepy Sam made excellent time for a horse encumbered with a double load, gained at every step. But they were rapidly nearing the old bear’s hole, and, at length, the boys saw their uncle and the trappers ride out of the willows. Dick was mounted on Frank’s horse. The animal, when he found himself at liberty, had made straight for camp, and his appearance there, without his rider, occasioned no little surprise and alarm. Dick, as usual, predicted that “Frank warn’t a bit hurt. He would be sartin to turn up all right.” But still he did not know but the young hunter had got himself into “some[Pg 129][Pg 130] scrape,” in which he would need assistance, and agreed with Mr. Winters that it would be best to hunt him up. The latter was fast falling in with the trapper’s opinion, that his nephews were “’bout the keerlessest chaps agoin’;” and although he knew that they always succeeded in bringing themselves “safe out of all their scrapes,” he felt considerably relieved, when he saw that Sleepy Sam had carried them out of reach of the claws of the grizzly.

Archie, when he found that assistance was at hand, stopped and faced the bear, intending to try a shot at him. But the trappers galloped toward them, Dick shouting, “Hold on thar, you keerless feller; me an’ Bob’ll take him off your hands. We’ll show you how they hunt bars in Mexico. We’ll hang the varmint.”

The trapper swung a lasso above his head, as he spoke, and brought it down across Pete’s sides, in a way that made the spirited animal prance in the most lively manner. The horse was still unwilling to approach the bear; but he knew full well that he carried a rider who was able to enforce obedience.

The grizzly stopped for a moment when he saw these new enemies approaching, then he rushed toward old Bob, who was in advance of his companion. But he was met by the trapper’s dog, which attacked him with such fury that the bear was obliged to stop and defend himself. Old Bob rode in a circle around the combatants, holding his lasso in his hand all ready for a throw, and yelling with all the strength of his lungs to encourage the dog. Dick was making desperate efforts to join his companion, but his horse stopped about a hundred yards from the bear, and stubbornly refused to go nearer. His rider, resolved to have his own way, beat him most unmercifully with his lasso, and, as the horse appeared to be equally determined, the boys were unable to decide how the battle would end. All this while Useless had kept up the contest with the bear, and the animal finding that he could not elude his attacks, rose on his haunches and struck at the dog with his paws. Old Bob had been waiting for this. Swinging his lasso around his head, he launched it at the bear, and as the noose settled down about his neck, he turned his horse and galloped off. The next moment there was a heavy thud, a smothered growl of rage, and the grizzly was prostrate on the prairie. He, however, quickly regained his feet, and, disregarding the attacks of the dog, rushed with open mouth toward old Bob. Now was the time for Dick. Having, at last, been whipped into obedience, Pete gamely approached the bear, and, in an instant more, the grizzly was powerless. Dick was on one side of him, old Bob on the other; and their lassos were drawn so taut he could not turn either way. If he attempted to attack Bob, he was checked by Dick; and if he rushed upon the latter, old Bob’s lasso stopped him. The grizzly’s struggles were desperate; his growls terrific. He tore at the lassos with his claws, and exerted all his tremendous strength to break the rawhide ropes, which were drawn as tight as a bow-string. But the conflict, desperate as it was, lasted only a short time. The grizzly’s struggles grew weaker, his growls fainter, and finally he sank on the prairie dead. The trappers slackened up their lassos, and Mr. Winters and the boys, who had closely watched this singular contest, rode up to examine their prize.

 

“Thar’s your bar, you keerless fellers,” said Dick. “If you don’t let these yere varmints alone, you’ll git yourselves in a bad scrape, one of these days, now, I tell you. A grizzly don’t wait fur a feller to walk up an’ shake his fist in his face, an’ say, ‘Do ye want to fight?’ He b’lieves in makin’ war on every one he sees.”

“We know that!” replied Archie. “This fellow made at us before we got near enough to shoot at him.”

“Then you did mean to fight him, did you?” asked the trapper, as he and old Bob began to skin the bear. “Wal, it aint every feller that would keer ’bout meddlin’ with a grizzly so long as the critter let him alone. I’ve seed trappers – an’ brave ones, too – that would shoulder their we’pons an’ walk off if they happened to come acrost a bar. It aint allers fun to hang a grizzly, neither; fur if your hoss falls down, or your lasso breaks, you’re a’most sartin to go under. I’ve seed more ’n one poor chap pawed up ’cause his hoss warn’t quick enough to git out of the varmint’s reach.”

In this way the trapper talked to the boys until the skin of the grizzly was taken off, when the travelers returned to their camp. As Archie remarked, it had been “a great day for bears,” and the evening was appropriately passed in listening to the stories the trappers related of their adventures with these animals.

CHAPTER XI
A Buffalo Hunt

THE next morning, after breakfast, the boys seated themselves by the fire, and while Frank mended his bridle, which Pete had broken the day before, Archie was endeavoring to conjure up some plan for the day’s amusement. Even in that country, which abounded with game, the boys were at a loss how to pass the time, for the grizzlies had interfered with their arrangements considerably. If they went hunting in the mountains, they might come across another bear; and their recent experience with those animals had shown them that the hunters were sometimes the hunted. They had no desire for further adventures with the monsters, and they had at last decided that they would take a gallop over the prairie, when they were startled by the clatter of horses’ hoofs in the creek, and old Bob – who, at daylight, had started out on a “prospecting” expedition – galloped into camp, breathless and excited. The boys very naturally cast their eyes toward the prairie, to see if he were not followed by a grizzly; but the sight of one of those animals never affected the old trapper in that manner. He had seen what he considered larger and more profitable game.

“Dick,” he exclaimed, drawing up his horse with a sudden jerk – “Dick, have some buffaler hump for dinner?”

“Sartin,” replied the trapper, hastily rising to his feet, and throwing away his pipe. “In course. Saddle up to onct, youngsters. We’ll have some game now as is game.”

The announcement that there is a herd of buffaloes in the vicinity, always creates an uproar in a hunter’s camp, and there was no exception to the rule this time. The boys had never seen the trapper so eager; and even Mr. Winters, generally so cool and deliberate, was not so long in saddling his horse as usual. This, of course, had an effect upon the boys; but, as is always the case, their hurry occasioned them a considerable loss of time. Archie could not find his bridle, and Frank, in his eagerness, broke his saddle-girth; and, to increase their excitement, the others, as soon as they had saddled their horses (Dick rode one of the mules) and secured their weapons, rode off, leaving them alone. Archie, after a lengthy search, found his bridle in the wagon, and Frank at last succeeded in mending his saddle-girth with a piece of buckskin. The boys’ rifles stood together against a tree, close by, with all the accouterments hanging to the muzzles. Frank’s being a common “patch” rifle, he, of course, had a powder-horn and bullet pouch, while Archie carried the ammunition for his breech-loader in a haversack. The latter was ready first, and hastily seizing the gun that came first to his hand, secured Frank’s instead of his own, and, putting his horse into a gallop, rode down the bed of the creek, throwing the powder-horn and bullet pouch over his shoulder as he went. Frank was ready a moment afterward, and finding his own rifle gone, he, of course, took Archie’s. Although he thought nothing of it at the time, he afterward looked upon it as a lucky circumstance. In addition to their rifles, the boys each had two revolvers, which they carried in their holsters. Frank overtook the hunters at the edge of the prairie, where they had stopped to wait for him, and to hold a consultation. The high swells that rose in every direction shut them out from the view of the game, but old Bob knew exactly where to go to find it. As they went along, at an easy gallop, Dick rode up beside the boys, and, addressing himself to Frank, said:

“Now, youngster, this’ll be new bisness to you, so don’t be keerless. You must ’member that your hoss ar’ as green as a punkin in buffaler huntin’, an’, if you let him get stampeded, he’ll take you cl’ar to Mexico afore he stops.”

“Stampeded!” repeated Frank. “Does a horse ever get stampeded with buffaloes?”

“Sartin he do,” answered the trapper, with a laugh; “an’ if you ever get teetotally surrounded by a thousand bellerin’, pitchin’ buffalers, you’ll say it’s the wust scrape you ever war in. So don’t go too clost to ’em. If your hoss gets frightened, stop him to onct, and quit follerin’ ’em.”

Dick was then proceeding to instruct the boys in the manner of hunting the buffaloes, when old Bob, who had been leading the way, suddenly came to a halt.

“They’re jest behind that swell,” said he. “Don’t you hear ’em? Now, we must separate.” Then, in hurried whispers, he pointed out the station he wished each to occupy, and, after Dick had again cautioned Frank to keep his horse completely under his control, the boys rode away in different directions.

When Frank reached his station, he stopped his horse, examined his rifle, opened his holsters, so that he could readily draw his revolvers, and waited impatiently for the signal. The hunters were stationed about a quarter of a mile apart. Old Bob was in the center of the line. After satisfying himself that they were all in their places, he waved his hat – the signal for the advance. They all started at the same moment, and, before Frank could think twice, his horse had carried him to the top of the swell, and he was in full view of the game. The sight that met his eyes astonished him.

He had often read of the prairie being black with buffaloes, but he had never seen it before. The herd was an immense one, and stretched away in all directions as far as his eye could reach. But he was allowed no time for admiration, for, the moment the hunters made their appearance, the buffaloes discovered them, and made off at the top of their speed, the noise of their hoofs sounding on the hard prairie like the rolling of thunder. Pete was not afraid of buffaloes, and he soon carried his master within easy range of the herd, the nearest of which fell at the crack of his rifle. Too impatient to reload his gun, Frank drew one of his revolvers, and, forgetting, in his excitement, all the trapper’s advice, spurred after the flying herd; and, so close was he to them, that he seldom missed his mark. When he had fired all the charges, he returned his empty weapon to his holster, and, as he drew the other, he cast his eye in the direction of his companions, and was a good deal surprised to discover that some of the herd had got between him and the rest of his party, and were running almost side by side with him. On the outer edge of the herd, he saw his cousin in company with the trappers. Archie had, doubtless, emptied all his weapons, for he appeared to be engaged in reloading. Further back, he saw Mr. Winters, who had stopped to “settle” a large bull he had wounded. He also noticed that the mule, on which Dick was mounted, being entirely unaccustomed to such business, and frightened by the discharges of the fire-arms, and the noise of the rushing herd, was making desperate but unsuccessful attempts to throw his rider. Frank, taking this all in at a glance, then turned his attention to the animals nearest him, and soon emptied his second revolver.

All this while Pete had been running with the bridle hanging loose on his neck; now, as Frank gathered up the reins, he noticed, for the first time, that he was going at a rate of speed he had never before accomplished. This, however, did not alarm him; but, seeing that he was leaving his companions behind, he thought he would slacken his pace and wait for them to come up. He drew in the reins, but it had no effect on the horse, which, looking back over his shoulder, as if frightened at something that was pursuing him, bounded off faster than ever. Taking a firmer hold of the reins, Frank pulled again with all his strength, but to no purpose. Had he been at sea, in an open boat, without rudder, sails, or oars, he could not have been more helpless than he was at that moment. His horse, perfectly unmanageable, was running away with him! In an instant, the thought flashed through Frank’s mind, that he was in the very position the trapper had so emphatically cautioned him to avoid. But still he was not frightened, until he cast his eyes behind him, and, to his utter dismay, discovered that the herd had closed in on all sides of him. Around his horse was a clear space of perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, which was slowly but surely growing smaller, as the frightened animals pressed and crowded against each other. On every side he saw a mass of horns, and tails, and shaggy shoulders, which, like a wall, shut him away from his companions. Away off to the right, he saw the trappers, Archie, and Mr. Winters, no longer pursuing the game, but gazing after him, and throwing their arms wildly about. If they shouted, Frank did not hear what they said, for the noise of that multitude of hoofs would have drowned the roar of Niagara. They could not assist him, neither could he help himself. That very morning the trapper had told him of seeing a man trampled to death by a herd of buffaloes, and now a similar fate was in store for himself. The appalling thought seemed to deprive him of the last particle of strength, for he reeled in his saddle, and only caught the mane of his horse just in time to save himself from falling to the ground. But, as was always the case with Frank, when placed in situations of extreme danger, this burst of weakness quickly passed. While he had life, he could not relinquish all hope of being able to bring himself safely out of even this, the most perilous position in which he had ever found himself. He could determine upon no particular plan for escape, so long as he was surrounded by those frantic buffaloes. The only course he could pursue was to compel Pete to keep pace with the herd. But this plan did not place him out of the reach of danger. He knew that buffaloes, when stampeded, turn aside for nothing. Neither hills nor rivers check their mad flight, and any living thing that stands in their way is trampled to death. Even the exhausted members of the herd, unable to keep pace with the others, are borne down and crushed to a jelly. They neither seem to hear or see any thing; all their senses being merged into the desire to get as far as possible from the object that has excited their alarm; and they seldom stop until completely exhausted.

Frank knew this, and the question that arose in his mind was, “How long could his horse stand that rapid gallop?” He appeared to be as thoroughly frightened as the buffaloes, and it was not at all probable he would show any inclination to stop, so long as he saw that shaggy mass behind him, or could hear the noise of their hoofs, which sounded like the rumbling of an immense cataract. The more he thought of his critical situation, the firmer was his belief that there was but one way open to him, and that was to keep ahead of the animals, which were behind him. Having determined upon this, he again cast his eyes toward the place where he had last seen his friends. They were gone, and Frank was alone in the midst of that multitude of frantic buffaloes.

When the trappers had discovered Frank’s situation, they knew it was out of their power to assist him. After following him a short distance, in the vain hope of making him hear the words of advice and encouragement which they sent after him with all the strength of their lungs, they had fallen back out of sight. Dick had advised this course, “Fur,” said he, “the longer we foller ’em, the faster they’ll run. They won’t stop till they’re clean gin out. If the youngster stays on his hoss, an’ keeps ahead of ’em till they’re a leetle over their fright, he’s all right.”

 

Dick, however, did not intend to leave his young companion altogether. At his request, Archie gave up Sleepy Sam to him, and, after assuring the others, who were in a state of intense excitement and alarm, that he would certainly find Frank and bring him back safe, he rode off in the direction the buffaloes had gone, while the rest of the party returned to collect their game.

Meanwhile, Pete, rendered frantic by the deafening noise, was carrying Frank over the prairie at a terrific pace. The young hunter’s alarm had somewhat abated, and he appeared as calm as though he was merely taking a ride for amusement; but his mind was exceedingly busy, and, in a very short space of time, he lived over his whole life. He cast frequent and anxious glances behind him, but could see no change for the better in his situation. The buffaloes, as far as his eye could reach, pushed and crowded against each other, apparently as frightened as ever, but taking no notice whatever of the horseman in their midst. The space around his horse was gradually growing smaller, which made Frank shudder when he thought what the result would be if they should close in upon him.

One hour passed, and still the frightened herd dashed on, with the frantic horse and his helpless rider in their midst, without, in the least, slackening their pace. Pete was evidently in distress. That mad gallop was telling on him severely; but, while those buffaloes were behind him, all attempts to stop him would have been useless. Another hour glided by, and, to his joy, Frank discovered that the animals behind him were scattering, and that the line of his pursuers was growing thinner. Those in front still ran as fast as ever – no doubt, pushed onward by those behind them, while those in the extreme rear were evidently getting over their fright. Frank looked again and again, to satisfy himself that he was not mistaken, and he was confident that, if his horse could hold out half an hour longer, the buffaloes, slowly dividing right and left, would leave a way of escape open to him. The minutes seemed lengthened into hours; but his pursuers were now rapidly taking up their places on the flanks of the herd, and, in a short time, not a buffalo was to be seen behind him.

Again Frank pulled the reins, and Pete, almost exhausted, and no longer hearing that terrific noise behind him, willingly stopped. Frank, filled with gratitude for his escape, threw himself from the saddle, just as the last of the buffaloes were disappearing over a neighboring swell.