The Boy Hunters
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Filled with these appalling thoughts, they crouched upon their hands and knees, now peering cautiously through the leaves of the aloes, and now whispering to each other the various plans of escape that suggested themselves. But all these plans ended in the faint hope that the bears might make a temporary absence from the ravine, and give them a chance to pass down. They could think of no other mode of extricating themselves from their dilemma.
At times the idea occurred to Basil, of taking good aim, and firing at one or other of the huge animals. François applauded this idea, while Lucien as strongly opposed it. The latter argued that it would only irritate the bears, and bring them up at once – that there was no chance of killing any of them by a single bullet, unless it passed through the brain or the heart; and this, aiming, as they must do, over a cliff, was a very problematical affair. Even should one fall, the others would avenge the death of their comrade. A volley would not be likely to kill them all.
Lucien’s arguments prevailed; and the less prudent brothers gave up their idea of firing, and remained, silently gazing down as before.
They lay for nearly half-an-hour watching and waiting. The bears finished their meal, having devoured every bit of the meat. Were they satisfied? No. A shoulder of mutton is but a morsel to the ravenous appetite of a grizzly bear; and it seemed only to have set theirs upon edge. They guessed whence their lunch had come – from above – and there was the place to go in search of their dinner. They looked up. The boys suddenly drew back their heads, hiding them behind the leaves. It was too late. The bears had seen them, and the next moment were galloping upward!
The first thought of our hunters was to fly, and with this intention they all sprang to their feet. But Basil, with a feeling of rage, was determined to try whether a rifle-bullet might not serve as a check to the advancing enemy. He levelled down the pass, and fired. His brothers, seeing him do so, followed his example – François emptying both barrels that had been loaded with buck-shot. One of the bears – the cub it was – tumbled back down the ravine but after the volley the largest of all was seen clambering up, growling fiercely as he came. The hunters, not having time to reload, ran off over the table – scarcely knowing what direction to take.
When they had got half-way across it, all three stopped and looked back. The foremost bear was just rising above the cliff; and the next moment his long body was stretched out in pursuit of them. They had been in hopes that the pieces of meat might have attracted his attention, and drawn him aside. This did not happen. The meat was not directly upon his path; moreover, the animal appeared infuriated as he approached. He had been stung by the shot, and was bent upon revenge.
It was a terrible moment. The angry monster was within three hundred yards of them. In a few seconds he would be upon them, and one or the other must become his victim.
In crises like these, bold minds are the most apt to conceive expedients. So it was with that of Basil. On other occasions he was rash and often imprudent, but in moments of extreme danger he became cool and collected, even more so than his philosophic brother, Lucien. A thought, which hitherto had strangely been overlooked both by himself and his brothers, now in the hour of peril came into his mind. He remembered that the grizzly bear is not a tree-climber! With the thought he shouted out, —
“To the trees! to the trees!” at the same time embracing one of the pines, and sprawling upwards as fast as he could climb.
Both Lucien and François imitated his example, each taking to the tree that grew nearest him – for the bear was not twenty paces behind them, and there was no time to pick and choose. Before the latter could come up, however, all three were perched in the pines, as high among the branches as they could safely get.
The bear galloped forward, and seeing where they had gone, ran from tree to tree, growling with rage and disappointment. He rose upon his hind-legs, and endeavoured to reach the lowermost branches with his fore-paws – as if he intended to draw himself up, or drag the tree down. One by one he assailed the pines, shaking them with violence, and with his claws making the bark fly off in large pieces. One in particular – that upon which François had taken refuge – being a small tree, vibrated so rapidly under the powerful efforts of the brute, that its occupant was in danger of being dashed to the ground. But the fear of such an event caused François to put forth all his energies; and, encouraged by the shouts of Basil and Lucien, he held on manfully. The bear, after a while, seeing he could not shake him off, gave it up; and again tried his strength upon the trees that had been climbed by the others. This ended as before; except that the bear completely skinned off the bark as high as he could reach, and made such an impression upon the trunks with his teeth and claws, that the boys feared he might take it into his head to cut down the trees altogether. He could easily have accomplished this; but, fortunately for them, the grizzly bear is not gifted with reasoning faculties, else their fate would have been a terrible one indeed.
When he found, at length, that he could neither drag down the trees, nor shake the boys out of them, he gave up the attempt; and for a time walked from one to the other, backwards and forwards, like a sentry, now and then uttering a loud “sniff,” and at intervals growling fiercely. At length he stretched his huge body along the ground, and appeared to sleep!
What had become of the female and the cub? Had both fallen by the shots fired at them? Neither had as yet made their appearance on the summit – for the boys from their perch could see every inch of its surface. They were still in the ravine then; but whether dead or alive could not be determined. The dog Marengo, by a wise instinct, had not attacked the bear, but had escaped to one edge of the table, where he was crouching and cowering with fear, taking care not to put himself in the way of being seen.
The young hunters were now in a worse situation than ever. They dared not venture out of the trees without the certainty of dropping into the jaws of the monster; and they were suffering pain as they sat straddled across the slender branches of the pines. Besides, they were thirsty – thirsty to an extreme degree. They had taken no water with them in the morning. The sun was fiercely hot; and, even while engaged in skinning the big-horns, they had been complaining for want of water. They now began to suffer from thirst, more than from any other cause. Should the bear remain for any length of time, what would become of them? They must either drop down to be at once torn to pieces, or perish slowly where they sat. These were the alternatives!
They could make no change in their situation. Their guns were upon the ground, where in their haste they had flung them. They dared not descend to recover them. They were utterly helpless; and could do nothing but await the result. As if to tantalise them, they now beheld for the first time the objects of their far expedition – the animals they had so long desired to come up with —the buffaloes! Away to the south-west a multitude of black bodies were seen upon the plain, like crowds of men in dark clothing. They were moving to and fro, now uniting in masses, and now separating like the squadrons of an irregular army. Miles of the green prairie were mottled by their huge dark forms, or hidden altogether from the view. They seemed to be moving northward, along the level meadows that stretched between the butte and the Llano Estacado. This proved to be the case; for in a few minutes the headmost had pushed forward on a line with the butte; and our young hunters could distinguish the shaggy, lion-shaped bodies of the bulls that formed the vanguard of the “gang.” Under other circumstances this would have been a glad sight indeed. As it was, it only served to render their situation more intolerable. The buffaloes were passing to the north. Even should they themselves escape, after a time they might not be able to overtake them; and although they could distinguish none that were white– for the main body was a great way off – it was highly probable that in so large a herd one or more of these would be found.
As all three continued to watch the black multitudes rolling past, an exclamation, or rather a shout of joy, was uttered by Basil. He was upon a tree that stood apart from the others and gave him an unobstructed view of the plains to the west.
“Voilà! yonder! yonder!” he cried: “see! in the middle of the drove! See, brothers! – it shines in the sun – white – white! Huzza! – huzza!”
Basil’s speech was scarcely coherent. Neither was that of his brothers, when they beheld the object to which he had alluded. It could be nothing else, all believed, than the object of their long wild hunt – a white buffalo. All three huzzaed loudly, and for a moment forgot the peril of their position. Their shouts started the grizzly monster below, who, lazily rising to his feet, once more commenced growling and shuffling about among the trees. The sight of him soon restored the hunters to a sense of the fearful realities that surrounded them.
Chapter Thirty.
An Escape from the Bear-Scrape
For hours they sat upon their painful perch – now glancing downward at the fierce gaoler that watched unweariedly below – now gazing out upon the plain, where the dusky droves still continued to move. For hours the buffaloes kept passing northward, until the setting sun glanced redly from their brown bodies. Once or twice again the boys thought they saw white ones in the herd; but their eyes had grown dim with watching, and the pain which they endured now rendered them indifferent to aught else than their own misery. Despair had conquered hope – for they were choking with thirst – and death stared them in the face.
After a long while the bear again lay down, and placing his fore-paws over his head appeared once more to sleep. Basil could stand it no longer; and now resolved to make an effort to escape. At all events he would try to bring about some change in their painful situation.
Cautioning his brothers to remain silent, he slipped down from his tree; and, with the stealthy tread of a cat, crept over the ground in search of his rifle. He soon laid hands upon it; and then, returning to his tree, climbed up again. The shaking of the branches as he did so, awoke the bear; who sprang to his feet, and rushed towards the tree. Had he been a moment sooner, it would have been ill for Basil, for the snout of the animal, as he reared upward against the trunk, almost touched the boy’s feet. It was an “inch of a miss as good as a mile,” and Basil was saved. The next moment he was seated among the branches, and leisurely loading his rifle!
Strange to say, the bear appeared to comprehend this movement. As if aware of his danger, he kept out farther from the trees; and, while rambling about, now, for the first time, stumbled upon what remained of the carcasses of the big-horns. These he proceeded to tear up, and devour. He was still within range of the rifle, though not for a sure shot; but Basil, who knew he could load again, was determined either to force him farther off, or bring him within reach; and with this intent he took aim and fired. The bullet hit the bear in the fore-shoulder, for he was seen to turn his head and tear at the spot with his teeth, all the while growling with rage and pain. Strange to say, he still continued to devour the meat!
Again Basil loaded and fired as before. This time the animal received the shot about the head, which caused him to make fresh demonstrations of his fury. He dropped his prey, and galloped back among the trees, first clutching one and then another, making repeated efforts to drag them down. He at length came to Basil’s tree, and seized it in his fierce hug. This was exactly what the young hunter wanted. He had hastily reloaded, and as the bear stood upright under the branches, he leant downwards until the muzzle of his rifle almost touched the snout of the animal. Then came the report – a stream of fire was poured into the very face of the bear – and a crashing sound followed. As the smoke cleared off, the huge body was seen kicking and sprawling upon the ground. The leaden messenger had done its work. It had passed through the brain; and in a few seconds the shaggy monster lay motionless upon the earth.
The boys now dropped from the trees. François and Lucien ran for their guns, and all three having loaded with care, proceeded toward the ravine. They stayed not to examine the enemy that had been slain. Thirst urged them on, and they thought only of getting to the spring below. They were full of hope that the she-bear and her cub had been killed by their first fire, and that they would now find the road clear.
What was their disappointment when, on looking down the ravine, they saw the cub lying doubled up, near the bottom, and the old one standing sentry over it! The cub was evidently dead. So much the worse – as the mother would not now leave it for a moment, and both were directly in the path. The latter was moving backward and forward upon a ledge of rock, at intervals approaching the cub and tossing its body with her snout, and then uttering a low querulous moan, that was painful to listen to!
The hunters saw at once that their situation was as bad as ever. Their retreat was cut off by the infuriated mother, who might remain where she was for an indefinite time. Should they fire down upon her, and take the chances of once more escaping to the trees? This was an alternative which they had reason to dread. Their painful experience decided them against it. What then? Remain until after night-fall, and try to steal past in the darkness? Perhaps the bear might retire to her cave, and give them an opportunity to do so. But in the meantime they were dying of thirst!
At this moment a happy idea suggested itself to Lucien. He saw the cactus plants growing near. There were large globes of the echinocactus. He remembered having read that these often assuaged the thirst of the desert traveller. The plants were soon reached, and their succulent masses laid open by the knives of the hunters. The cool watery fibres were applied to their lips; and in a few minutes their thirst was alleviated and almost forgotten. Still the bear occupied the ravine, and so long as she remained there, there was no possible chance of their getting back to camp. They saw, however, that they could do nothing better than wait for the night, in hopes that the darkness might bring about something in their favour.
Night soon came on, but not darkness. It chanced to be a clear moonlight; and they saw at once that it would then be quite as perilous to go down the ravine as it had been during the day. They could hear the snorting and growling of the monster below; and they knew she still held the pass. Should they attempt to descend, she would discover them long before they could get down. She could hear them clambering among the rocks and bushes. The advantage would be hers, as she could attack them unawares. Besides, even had the coast been quite clear, they would have found it difficult to get down the steep descent in the night. They dared not attempt it. After much deliberation, therefore, they resolved to wait for the morning.
Throughout all the live-long night they kept awake. They heard their steeds neighing below – wondering, poor brutes, what had become of their masters. The hinny of Jeanette echoed wildly from the cliffs, and was answered by the bark and howl of the prairie-wolf. These sounds, together with the more ominous snort of the bear, kept sleep from the eyes of our adventurers. They dared not go to sleep, unless by perching themselves in the trees; as they knew not the moment the bear might come up to the summit. Sleeping upon the slender branch of a mountain pine is more painful than pleasant; and all three preferred keeping awake.
Morning broke at length. The first light showed that the shaggy sentinel was still at her post. She sat upon the same spot, as though she was guarding her dead offspring. The young hunters, but particularly Basil, began to grow impatient. They were hungry, though there were still left some fragments of the wild mutton, which they could have eaten. But they were thirsty as well. The juice of the cactus allayed, but did not quench, their thirst. They longed for a draught of cool water from the spring below. The buffaloes, too, were gone northward, “on the run.” They might never overtake them. They might never again have such an opportunity of procuring that for which they had endured all this suffering. These thoughts influenced all three, but Basil more than any. Some attempt must be made to reach the plain, and escape from their elevated prison.
Basil proposed provoking the bear, by firing upon her. She would pursue them, he urged, as the other had done, and meet with a similar fate. This might have succeeded, but it would have been a dangerous experiment. Lucien suggested that two of them should go round the edge of the precipice and examine it more carefully, while the third kept a watch upon the bear. Perhaps there might yet be found some other path that led to the plain. This offered but a faint hope; still it would take only a few minutes to make the examination, and Lucien’s proposal was therefore agreed to.
“If we only had a rope,” suggested François, “we could let ourselves over the cliff, and then the old grizzly might stay there for ever, if she pleased.”
“Ha!” shouted Basil, as if some plan had suddenly come into his mind, “what dunces we have been! Why did we not think of it before? Come, brothers! I’ll get you down in the twinkling of an eye – come!”
As Basil uttered these words, he strode off towards the spot where they had butchered the big-horns. On reaching it he drew his hunting-knife; and having spread out one of the skins, proceeded to cut it into strips. Lucien, at once guessing his design, assisted him in the operation; while François was sent back to the head of the ravine, in order to watch the bear.
In a few minutes the brothers had cut up both of the hides, until the ground was covered with long strips. These they knotted firmly together – placing cross-pieces of pine branches in the knots – until they had made a raw-hide rope over one hundred feet in length!
They now proceeded to a convenient point of the cliff – where a pine-tree grew near its edge – and tied one end of the new-made rope around the trunk. To the other end they fastened Marengo, the three guns – for François had arrived upon the ground – and, along with these, a large stone – in order to test the strength of the rope before any of themselves should venture upon it. All these things were now lowered down until they could see them resting upon the prairie below.
The rope was next made taut above; and the weight of the stone – which was too heavy for Marengo to move – kept all fast below. François slipped down the rope first. There was but little difficulty in his doing so; as the pieces of wood formed rests, or steps, that prevented him from sliding too fast. Lucien followed next, and then Basil; so that in less than half an hour, from the time that this plan of escape had occurred to them, all three found themselves safe upon the level of the prairie!
They did not waste time when they had got there. Marengo was released, and the whole party hurried in the direction of their horses. These were soon reached, caught, and saddled; and our hunters, now that they could mount at any moment they pleased, felt themselves safe.
They resolved, however, to remain no longer by the butte, but to ride away from it, as soon as they had eaten a morsel. A small fire was, therefore, kindled; and a piece of bear-meat, hastily broiled, satisfied their hunger. Basil would have gone back on horseback, to attack the old she-bear in the ravine; but the more prudent Lucien dissuaded him; and, holding their horses in readiness, they packed their camp equipments upon Jeanette, and once more took the route.
Chapter Thirty One.
The Vultures and their King
They turned their horses’ heads westward. It was their intention to travel in that direction, until they should strike the tracks of the buffaloes, when they would turn to the north, follow upon the trail of these animals, and endeavour to come up with the great herd. This was clearly the best course they could adopt.
As they were riding past the western extremity of the butte, a flock of large birds drew their attention. They were vultures. The boys now remembered the cimmaron that had fallen over the cliff; and, looking up, they beheld its body still swinging from the tree. It was that which had attracted the vultures.
There were many of them – over an hundred in the flock. Some were sailing about in the air. Others had alighted on the top of the cliff, or perched themselves on the branches of the pines, while a few hovered around the carcass, occasionally settling a moment upon its stiffened limbs, and endeavouring to penetrate the hide with their beaks. They had already torn out the eyes of the animal, but the tough skin of the body still resisted their attacks.
These birds were larger than ravens, and of a dark colour – nearly black. At a distance they appeared purely black; but, upon a nearer view, an admixture of brownish feathers could be perceived, and this was apparent in some of them more than in others. To a careless observer they would all have passed for birds of the same species, although that was not the case. There were two distinct species of them, the “turkey-buzzard” (Cathartes aura), and the black vulture (Cathartes atratus). Our boys knew them well enough – for both kinds are common in Louisiana, and throughout all the southern part of the United States.
I have said that a careless observer would mistake the one species for the other. They are nearly of the same size and colour, though the carrion-crow is of a deeper black than the buzzard; but there are other points of difference that would strike the eye of a naturalist at once. The buzzard is a much more handsomely formed bird, and is more graceful, both upon the ground and while sailing through the air. His wings are longer and more elegantly plumed, and his tail is more tapering. The skin of his naked head and neck, as well as that of his legs, is of a reddish or flesh colour; while the same parts of the black vulture are a mixture of black and grey – the black being caused by a down that grows thinly over the skin. They are easily distinguished in the air. The black vulture flies rather heavily – flapping his wings several times with a quick repetition, and then holding them horizontally for a hundred yards or so – while his short ill-proportioned tail is spread out like a fan. The buzzard, on the contrary, holds his wings at rest – not in a horizontal position, but bent considerably upward. In this attitude he will skim along for a quarter of a mile, without a single stroke of his wings, and that, too, not downward as may be supposed, but along a level, or a line often curving upward! How he executes this upward movement is not known. Some suppose that he possesses the power of inflating himself with heated air, which enables him to soar upward without using his wings. This theory is not very clear, and requires demonstration before it can be accepted as the true one. Others say that he is carried up by the impetus he has already obtained, by having previously descended from an equal or greater height. This is not true, however, as the buzzard may be often seen to rise in this way after a long flight along the level line. It is just possible that the same principle by which the New Holland savages direct their boomerangs, or by which flat stones thrown horizontally often take an upward direction – a fact known to every boy – I say it is just possible that this principle, as yet but little understood, may be instructively acted on by the buzzard, and have something to do with his flight. Be the facts as they may, it is an interesting sight to watch one of these birds, with broad wings outlined against the blue background of the heavens, now swimming in circles, now shooting off in horizontal lines, and anon soaring upward or tracing the undulating curves of the ogee. It is, to say the least of it, a striking and beautiful sight.