Frank on the Prairie

CHAPTER VIII

The “Ole Bar’s Hole.”

NEXT morning, after a hasty breakfast, the boys saddled their horses, and, led by the trapper, set out to find the wagon. Now it was that the latter showed the young hunters his extraordinary “travelin’ qualities,” as he expressed it; for as soon as the boys were in their saddles, he shouldered his rifle and started off, at a rapid pace, which he did not slacken at all until they arrived on the banks of a small stream, where they stopped to quench their thirst.

“Now, youngsters,” said the trapper, seating himself on the ground, and wiping his forehead with his coat sleeve, “There’s the place. The Comanche’s camp war pitched jest in the edge of them ar’ willows, an’ right where you see them bushes war where I stood afore I started to run the gauntlet. The chief’s wigwam stood thar then. I tell you, it warn’t healthy fur a feller to go foolin’ ’round here them days.”

The boys gazed long and earnestly at every object the trapper pointed out, and listened to his narration of the various incidents that had transpired during his captivity, until they almost fancied they could see the prairie covered with painted savages, and their guide, in the midst of his foes, awaiting the signal to begin his race for life. Dick, himself, was no less interested, for he sat for a long time feasting his eyes on every familiar object; now and then casting suspicious glances toward the distant willows, as if he almost expected to catch a glimpse of a hostile warrior, or hear the war-whoop which had so often awoke the echoes of those very mountains.

“Wal, youngsters,” said he, at length, “let’s be movin’! I never expected to see the time when I could travel over these ere prairies without bein’ in danger of havin’ my har raised; an’ if you live to be as old as I am, you’ll see the day that ’em city chaps will ride through here on ’em steam railroads; an’ if they see this place, they’ll never dream that such things as I have told you about ever happened here.”

The travelers again set out, Dick leading the way, at a still more rapid pace, and in two hours they arrived at the camp. Mr. Winters and old Bob were lying in the shade of the wagon, and as the boys approached, the former raised himself on his elbow, and inquired:

“Well, boys, how do you like traveling on your own hook? Do you think you could find your way to California without a guide?”

“Oh, they war all right!” exclaimed Dick, leaning his rifle against the wagon, and picking up the antelope skin which Archie had thrown down, and which contained some choice pieces of meat. “They war all right! Me and Useless found ’em down on Muddy Creek, Bob. They had killed this prong-horn, made their camp, an’ war takin’ matters easy like, as though they had never heered tell on a Comanche – the keerless fellers.”

While Frank and Archie were unsaddling their horses, the trapper proceeded to recount their adventures, to which both Mr. Winters and old Bob listened attentively. The latter was not a little astonished to learn that the boys could so readily accommodate themselves to circumstances, and was more firm than ever in his belief that “the youngsters would make good trappers.”

Mr. Winters had, at first, been considerably alarmed at their absence; but, upon reflection, he remembered that the boys had often been in positions fully as dangerous, from which they had always succeeded in extricating themselves, and he soon fell in with the trapper’s opinion, that they would “turn up all right.” He did not think it necessary to caution them, for, from the description the trapper gave of their adventures, it was not at all probable that they would ever again be placed in a like situation.

After a hearty dinner, which Dick speedily served up, they again set out toward the mountains, which they reached about the middle of the afternoon. After riding along the edge of the willows, for half a mile, they came to a wide but very shallow stream, into which the trapper turned, and after following it for some distance, drove out on the bank and stopped.

“Here we are,” said he, as he climbed down out of his wagon. “Now, youngsters, you’re at the ole bar’s hole. But if you didn’t know it war here, you might hunt fur it till your har war whiter nor Bob’s, an’ then you wouldn’t find it, an’ that wouldn’t be no wonder neither; fur many a sharpeyed Comanche has looked an’ peeped fur it, but only one ever found it that I know of, an’ it didn’t do him no good, fur he never lived to tell of it.”

While the trapper was speaking, old Bob had dismounted from his horse, and, walking up to a thicket of bushes which grew at the foot of a high rock that overhung the bed of the stream, began pulling them aside, and finally disclosed to view an opening that appeared to lead down into the very bowels of the earth. Meanwhile, Dick had gathered some dry wood for a torch, and, after lighting it, he backed down into the hole and disappeared, followed by Frank and Archie, who were impatient to see the inside of the cave which had so often served their guide as a secure retreat from his enemies. The passage was long and winding, and it was with considerable difficulty that the boys worked their way into it. Besides, it was in some places so narrow that they could scarcely squeeze themselves through it. The trapper, however, worked his way along with a celerity that was surprising, and soon both he and the torch were out of sight, and the boys were left in pitch darkness. But there was little danger of their being lost in that narrow passage, and they crawled along as rapidly as possible, until at length Archie, who was leading the way, stopped, and began to rub his elbows and knees, which had received some pretty severe scratches from the sharp rocks.

“I say, Frank,” he exclaimed, “how do you suppose Dick ever squeezed his broad shoulders through a narrow place like this? What’s that?” he added, in a terrified voice, as they heard a savage growl, which seemed to sound directly over their heads.

Frank did not stop to answer, but throwing himself on his hands and knees, began to make the best of his way out of the passage, closely followed by his cousin, who urged him to go faster. They had not gone far when they were startled by the report of a rifle, which was followed by a roar that echoed and reëchoed through the cave like a heavy clap of thunder. What it was that had uttered that roar the boys were unable to determine; but they knew, by the report of the trapper’s rifle, and the sounds of a fierce struggle that came faintly to their ears, that Dick had found his old harboring-place occupied by some animal which did not feel disposed to give up possession; and they got out of the passage in much less time than it had taken them to get into it. When they reached the open air, the old trapper, who had heard the report of his “chum’s” rifle, threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled into the cave, followed by Mr. Winters. The boys at once ran to the wagon after their weapons, but by the time they had secured them, the fight was ended, and Dick made his appearance at the mouth of the passage. But he did not look like the man who had gone into that cave but a few moments before. His hunting-shirt and leggins were torn almost into shreds, his arms were bare to his shoulders, and were covered with wounds that were bleeding profusely. The boys were horrified; but their fears that the trapper had received serious injury were speedily set at rest, for he smiled as if nothing had happened, and exclaimed:

“Now you see what it is to be a trapper, youngsters. I shall allers think that ’ar cave has a good name, fur if me an’ Useless didn’t find the biggest grizzly bar in thar we ever sot eyes on, then thar aint no more beaver in the Missouri River.”

As he spoke, he divested himself of what remained of his hunting-shirt, and walked down to the creek to wash the blood off his hands and face, in which he was assisted by Mr. Winters. While this was going on, old Bob crawled out of the cave, carrying two cubs in his arms, which he presented to the boys, saying:

“Them’s young grizzlies. They don’t look now as if they would ever get to be as big and fierce as their mother war.”

As the boys took them, they both set up a shrill cry, and fought most desperately for such small animals, and their sharp little claws left more than one mark upon the hands and faces of the young hunters.

“Keep an eye open, Bob,” shouted Dick, who was seated on the ground, while Mr. Winters was bandaging his wounds. “Keep an’ eye open, ’cause the old man of the family may be ’round.”

Upon hearing this, Archie dropped his cub, and seizing his rifle, cast anxious glances upon the surrounding woods. But if the father was in the vicinity, he evidently thought it best to keep out of sight.

When Dick’s wounds had been cared for, and he had put on another suit of clothes, he seated himself on the ground, near the boys, while Bob kindled a fire and began preparations for supper.

“It aint allers fun to be a trapper, youngsters,” said Dick, puffing away at his pipe, “’cause, afore a man can earn that name, he’s got to go through a heap of skrimmages, like the one I jest had. When I’m on the prairy, or in the mountains, I allers keep my eyes open, an’ the fust thing I seed as I crawled out of that passage into that ar’ cave war that grizzly bar. She seed me, too, and set up a growl, as if to tell me that I couldn’t get away from thar any too quick; but she didn’t wink more’n twice afore I sent a chunk of lead into her. The light of the torch, however, bothered me, an’ I didn’t shoot atween her eyes, as I meant to; an’ afore a feller could say ‘Gin’ral Jackson,’ she war comin’ at me. Now, I’ve been in jest such scrapes afore, an’ the way I’ve got pawed up, an’ seed other fellers that were bigger and stronger than me, clawed an’ torn, has showed me that no one man that ever lived is a match fur a full-grown grizzly; an’ when I seed ole Bob poke his rifle out of the passage an’ draw a bead on that bar’s head, I’ll allow it made me feel a heap easier. If he had stayed away five minits longer, I don’t believe I’d ever showed you the way to Californy. As it war, I got pretty well clawed up.”

This was the way the trapper described the fight in the cave, which was one of the most desperate he had ever engaged in, as the severe wounds he had received proved. But he looked upon such things as a matter of course. He expected to be engaged in many similar fights; always held himself in readiness for them, and when they were over, another notch was added to those on the handle of his knife (for Dick kept a strict account of the number of grizzlies he killed,) and he had another story to tell by the camp-fire.

After supper, the trappers procured torches, and, accompanied by Mr. Winters and the boys, proceeded to explore the cave. There, lying where she had fallen in defense of her young, was the grizzly, which was the first of these animals the boys had ever seen. As near as they could judge, she was fully twice the size and weight of the bear Frank had killed in the woods, and her claws, which she had used with such effect upon the trapper and his dog, (for, in defending his master, Useless had been most roughly handled,) measured eight inches in length. Every thing in the cave bore evidence to the fact that the fight had been a severe one. The floor and walls were covered with blood, and on the bear’s body were numerous wounds, made by the knife of the trapper, and the teeth of the faithful Useless.

After the boys had examined the bear to their satisfaction, old Bob began to remove the skin, while Dick pointed out other objects of interest in the cave. There were the withered hemlock boughs which had many a time served him and Bill Lawson for a bed, and under them was a hole about two feet square, which the trapper called his “pantry.” He told Mr. Winters the story of the “struggle in the cave,” and showed him the passage that led to the top of the hill where the Comanches had entered, and where he had for two days kept watch, awaiting the coming of old Bill.

They remained in the cave for an hour, listening to Dick’s stories; for in his mind the “Ole Bar’s Hole” was associated with many exciting events, and it was dark before they returned to the camp.

CHAPTER IX

Archie’s Adventure with a Grizzly

ON the following morning the boys, as usual, were up with the sun, impatient to try their skill on the big game, with which the woods abounded. The trapper, who, during his fight in the cave, had received wounds that would have prostrated an ordinary man, was already stirring, and, having attended to his mules, was moving about as lively as ever, preparing the morning meal. In a few moments their breakfast was cooked and eaten, and, after hanging their provisions on the trees, out of reach of any wild beast that might find his way into camp during their absence, they shouldered their rifles and followed the trappers into the forest. Here they divided into two parties, Mr. Winters going with old Bob, and the boys accompanying Dick.

“Now, youngsters,” said the latter almost in a whisper, “we haint huntin’ squirrels. We’re arter bigger game. I don’t s’pose you keer ’bout tacklin’ a grizzly bar arter seein’ me pawed up the way I war last night; so if you happen to come acrosst one of them varmints, you needn’t mind shootin’ at him. Thar’s plenty other game, an’ what we want to find now ar’ a big-horn. That’s an animal, I reckon, you never seed. Go easy, now, ’cause they’ve got ears like a painter’s, an’ noses sharper nor hounds.”

So saying, the trapper led the way through a narrow ravine that lay between two mountains, whose tops seemed to pierce the clouds. The ravine, being thickly covered with bushes and logs, rendered their progress slow and tedious, and the boys, who could not help thinking what a fine hiding-place it would afford for a bear or panther, often cast uneasy glances about them, and kept as close to the trapper as possible. After they had gone about half a mile, the latter suddenly stopped and said:

“If these yere trees could talk, a’most every one of ’em would have a story to tell you ’bout me an’ ole Bill Lawson, ’cause we’ve often come through this gully when it war chuck full of Comanches. You ’member I onct told you ’bout waitin’ at the ole bar’s hole fur him, an’ that the ole feller had hid the black mustang in the bushes! Wal, here’s the very spot.”

As the trapper spoke, he pushed his way into a dense thicket, and showed the boys the sapling to which the old man had tied the horse.

“Wal, that ar’ animal,” continued Dick, “stood here fur two hours quiet an’ still as a mouse, an’ we tuk him out an’ got safe off without the varlets bein’ the wiser fur it. All the way through here we could hear ’em talkin’ to each other, an” – Look thar, youngsters, quick!”

Before the boys could look up to see what had attracted the trapper’s attention, the sharp report of his rifle rung through the gully, and a queer-looking animal come tumbling down the mountain, landing almost at their feet. Far up above the tree tops they saw the remainder of the flock bound over the rocks and disappear.

“That’s a sheep,” said the trapper, hastily reloading his rifle. “He’ll make a fust rate dinner, an’, if we keep our eyes open, we may get another.”

The game did bear a close resemblance to sheep, the only difference being his enormous horns, which looked altogether too large and heavy for so small an animal to carry. But the trapper did not allow them to closely examine their prize, for he exclaimed:

“If we want more of ’em fellers, we mustn’t waste no time. But, fust, we must separate, ’cause the further apart we get, the more likely we are to have a shot at ’em. Are you afraid to stay here, little un?”

“Of course not,” replied Archie, quickly.

“Wal, then, keep your eyes up the mountain, an’ if you see ’em ag’in, blaze away. Come on, Frank. I’ll show you whar to stand.”

The latter moved off with Dick, and Archie was left to himself. After examining the game to his satisfaction, he took up a position where he could obtain a good view of the side of the mountain, leaned back against a tree, and impatiently waited for the re-appearance of the big-horns. In front of him ran a deer path, hard and well-beaten as any road. It was, no doubt, used as a highway by animals traveling through the ravine; and Archie now and then directed his gaze up and down the path, in hopes he might discover some game in that direction.

He had remained in this position for nearly half an hour, when he did see an animal coming leisurely down the path, about fifty yards from him. It was an enormous grizzly bear. It did not appear to have determined upon any thing in particular, for it approached very slowly, stopping every few feet to snuff the air, and finally seated itself on its haunches, and proceeded to wash its paws and face, after the manner of a house cat. Archie had a good view of it. It was nearly as large as the one the trapper had killed in the cave, and the sight of its powerful claws, and the frightful array of teeth it exhibited, made the young hunter shudder. He had not been expecting so formidable a visitor, and to say that he was frightened would but feebly express his feelings. He had presence of mind enough, however, to move behind his tree, out of sight; but still he could not remove his eyes from the animal, neither could he determine upon any plan to extricate himself from his unpleasant situation. The grizzly had not yet discovered him, and Archie had his wits about him sufficiently to note the fact, that what little wind there was, was blowing from the bear toward himself. For fully five minutes – it seemed much longer to Archie – the grizzly sat in the path, sometimes looking lazily about him, and then licking his jaws like a dog that had just enjoyed a good meal; and for the same length of time did the young hunter remain behind his tree watching his movements, and wondering what course he could pursue to rid himself of his dangerous neighbor. It was not at all probable that the bear would remain in that position until the trapper returned. What if he should take it into his head to come further down the path? Archie would certainly be discovered, for the path run close by the tree, behind which he was concealed, and what would the bear do then? It was something he did not like to think about. He knew, from what he had heard the trapper say, that the grizzly’s disposition is very different from that of the black bear. The latter, unless rendered desperate by hunger, will generally take to his heels at the sight of a human being; but the grizzly looks upon all who invade his dominions as enemies, and believes in punishing them accordingly.

These thoughts passed rapidly through Archie’s mind, and in a moment more his resolve was taken. Keeping his eyes fastened on the bear, he cautiously raised his hand above his head, and, to his joy, found that he could easily reach the lowest limbs of the tree, and that they were strong enough to sustain his weight. But it was not his intention to leave the grizzly in peaceable possession of the field; for, as soon as he had satisfied himself that he had found a way of escape, he cocked his rifle and cautiously raised it to his shoulder. He was trembling violently, but at length he succeeded in quieting his nerves sufficiently to cover the bear’s head with the sight and pull the trigger. The grizzly, however, arose to his feet just as Archie fired, and the ball, instead of finding a lodgment in his brain, entered his shoulder. It brought him to the ground, and Archie caught one glimpse of him struggling in the path, and heard his growls of rage and pain, as he dropped his rifle and swung himself into the lowest branches of the tree.

It was evident that the bear meant to take ample revenge on him, for Archie heard him coming up the path. But he knew that the grizzly could not climb, and, after settling himself among the branches, he looked down at his enemy in perfect security. The bear knew where he had gone, for he ran directly to the foot of the tree, and, after smelling at the rifle and pawing it out of his way, he began walking up and down the path, all the while uttering those terrific growls, that made the young hunter tremble.

At this moment Archie heard the report of a rifle far up the mountain, which was quickly followed by another that sounded nearer. Then came a crashing in the bushes, as the big-horns fled before the hunters, and Archie heard his companions shouting to him:

“Look out, down there,” said Frank; “they’re running directly toward you, Archie.”

“Keep your eyes open, youngster,” chimed in Dick. “Don’t let ’em go by you.”

But Archie was not in a situation to intercept them, and he heard the big-horns dash across the ravine and bound up the mountain on the opposite side, closely followed by the dog, which barked fierce and loud at every jump.

“Archie, why don’t you shoot?” again shouted Frank, his voice sounding as though he was coming down the mountain.

“I can’t,” answered Archie. “Look out! Don’t come down here. I’m treed by a grizzly.”

“By a grizzly?” repeated Frank, in astonishment. “Has he hurt you?”

“No,” shouted Archie, from his tree, “I am all right; but I hurt him, I guess. Look out, Frank! he’s going toward you.”

This was a fact. The grizzly had stood perfectly still under the tree, listening to the sounds of the chase, until, finding that he could not reach Archie, he determined to revenge himself upon some one else. He had not gone far before Useless, having overtaken and killed a big-horn that his master had wounded, came up, and, discovering the grizzly, instantly gave chase. The bear, maddened by the pain of his wound, advanced with open mouth to meet him; but the dog, easily eluding his attacks, kept him busy until the trapper arrived, and put an end to the fight by shooting the bear through the head. Archie had watched the struggle from his perch, and, seeing that the grizzly was dead, he came down out of his tree, feeling very much relieved.

“You keerless feller!” exclaimed the trapper, “didn’t I tell you not to mind shootin’ at a grizzly bar?”

By this time Frank had come up with a big-horn on his shoulder, and, after having regained his rifle, Archie gave them an account of what had transpired.

“Wal,” said the trapper, “it war keerless to go a foolin’ with a bar that ar’ way. Now, you stay here, an’ I’ll go an’ get that big-horn that Useless killed.”

The dog, as if understanding what was said, led his master to the place where he had left the game. When the trapper returned, he removed the skin of the grizzly, intending to cure it, and give it to Archie to remember his “keerlessness by,” as he said. After which, they shouldered their game and returned to camp.

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.