Adventures in the Far West by W. H. G. Kingston (read any book .TXT) 📖

brace of pistols with long barrels, showing that he was accustomed to travel amongst enemies, and was prepared to make a stout fight if he was attacked. On seeing us, he enquired who we were, where we had come from, and in what direction we were going.

We told him without hesitation.

“I guess the old hoss will go with you some of the way,” he said. “Tell Master Praeger that Ben Folkard will pay him a visit before long, I can’t say when. He knows me, and he knows when I say I’ll do a thing I intend to do it.”

We promised to give old Folkard’s message, and soon afterwards we parted from him. Peter told us that he had heard his father speak of Ben Folkard as one of the most noted and skilful trappers of the Rocky Mountains, and that he never turned up without a large supply of skins and peltries.

We were fortunate in obtaining some fine Mexican mules and all the articles we required, though we had to pay somewhat highly for them. Well satisfied, we set off to return to Mr Praeger’s. The houses and the stores were few and far between, the intermediate country being still in a state of nature. As our laden mules could not travel fast, we had to camp on the way. We chose a grassy spot near a wood, offering sufficient attractions to our animals to prevent them from straying, though of course we hobbled them as an additional security.

While Peter remained in camp, Story and I took our guns to get a turkey, or any other game which might come in our way. We had not gone far when Story called my attention to an animal standing on the fallen trunk of a tree, and told me to keep back the dogs, which would be sure to suffer if they were to attack it. I was about to fire, when I caught sight of another animal of similar size with a long, thin body and sharp nose, which I at once recognised as a marten. It had apparently been watching the porcupine, who, unconscious of its approach, remained perfectly still, its spines scarcely visible. The marten was intent on taking its enemy by surprise; and, stealing up, threw itself on the unsuspicious porcupine before it had time even to raise its spines. The moment it felt itself seized, it began to lash its tail about and throw out its quills in all directions; but the marten, by its wonderful agility, escaped the blows aimed at it. In a short time it gained the victory, and was already sucking the blood of its victim when Story fired and hit it in the head. As the skin was of considerable value, we quickly flayed it, and with a couple of turkeys which we were fortunate enough to shoot, returned to camp, where, to our surprise, we found old Folkard seated smoking his pipe.

“I’m going along with you, boys,” he said. “Good company isn’t always to be got, and it’s not always safe, while the Redskins are on the war-path, to travel through the country alone. You can help me and I can help you, so that we shall be quits.”

We, of course, told the trapper that we should be very happy to have the benefit of his experience.

We passed the night quietly enough; but the next morning, to our excessive disgust, half the mules were missing. In spite of their hobbles, they had managed to get away. Peter and I with two men at once set off in search of them; but it was not until late in the day that we found the runaways. As soon as we had brought them back we started, but of course could make but a short distance. On camping, with the assistance of the old trapper we hobbled them more securely than on the previous night, and by his advice a watch was set, we all taking the duty in turns. Old Ben, however, excused himself from watching, declaring that his mules never ran away and that as he should have to keep wide awake during most nights by and by, he should prefer a sound sleep while he could get it.

To this we made no objection. We placed the packs on one side of our camp-fire, near which, having taken our suppers, the old trapper, Peter, and Story lay down to sleep; while I, with my rifle in my hand, walked off to look after the horses and mules. I kept walking up and down, keeping my eyes open, and when any of the animals appeared inclined to head off from the rest turned them back. The night was fine and the stars shone out brightly, but it was otherwise somewhat dark. At last I began to yawn and to wish heartily that Story would come and relieve me. Once or twice I heard cries in the distance very similar to those which had disturbed us when further to the west, but here, so near the settled districts, I thought nothing of the matter. I suspected that the cunning mules were watching me, for when I turned towards the camp to call Story, off one or two of them bolted. They had played me this trick two or three times, and at last one of them led me so long a chase that when I caught him I determined to punish the brute by securing him to a tree. Having done so I turned towards the camp, but the fire had burnt so low that I could scarcely see the spot. There was light enough, however, to enable me to distinguish several objects moving over the ground. Can they be Indians? I thought, as I ran forward hoping to arouse my companions in time to defend themselves. Before I got up to the camp, however, I saw what I at once knew to be a pack of wolves. On they came without bark or yelp, making straight for our baggage. Among the provisions we had purchased was a quantity of pemmican placed on the top. I really believe that the wolves, cunning as foxes, had surveyed our camp and knew exactly what to go in for. I shouted loudly, hoping to frighten them off and awaken my friends; but even old Ben was sleeping so soundly that for some time no one heard my voice, while I was afraid to fire at the wolves for fear—in the uncertain light—of hitting one of my sleeping companions. At length up sprang Story and Peter, and their cries aroused the old trapper. It was too late, however, to prevent the wolves making an onslaught on our baggage. Each seized something in his mouth, but our cries prevented them from remaining and devouring the whole of our provisions, which they undoubtedly otherwise would have done. Off they went, several of the rascals carrying bags of pemmican or of flour, or packages of hams in their mouths. I fired and stopped the career of one of them, while my companions, imitating my example, shot three others. We then, having reloaded, made chase and brought down two or three more.

We should have regained the whole of our provisions, but, in several instances, the moment a wolf was shot another brute seized his prize and made off with it. Under other circumstances we should not have expended powder on the brutes. We fired away, however, as long as any remained within shot, and on searching for the booty we recovered nearly the whole of it. Our chief loss was in our flour, as the animals, while grabbing the bags from each other, had well nigh torn them to pieces and let the contents run out.

Old Ben took matters very coolly, but Story and Peter were so vexed that they undertook to ride back and replace our loss, if we would consent to move on slowly with the rest of the animals. This we gladly did, the old trapper managing them with perfect ease. He said that he had seldom known a pack of wolves to come so far east, and advised that in future we should keep a sharp look-out lest we might encounter others.

Our friends overtook us the next day, and in the evening we reached Mr Praeger’s. We found Dick quite recovered and ready to set off again; but it seemed doubtful whether Armitage would continue his expedition. It struck me that although Mr Praeger was very civil, he would be glad to have us go. To say the least, we occupied a great deal of the attention of the ladies of the family, and Charley hinted that honest Dick was somewhat spoony on one of them. Story had also been warm in his praises of another, and it struck me that the young lady’s colour heightened and her eyes brightened when he spoke to her.

Mr Praeger seemed less contented with his location than I should have thought. He had evidently been captivated by the accounts of the wealth of California, and he made his “woman kind” somewhat uneasy by talking of travelling across the country, bag and baggage, to settle in the new Eldorado. They evidently had no wish to move; which was but natural, as they appeared to me to have everything they could desire, besides being free from the risk of Indian raids to which the settlers farther west were constantly exposed. Dick, Story and I now made active preparations for our departure; and, to my surprise, and much to our satisfaction, Armitage expressed his intention of accompanying us.

I thought that Ellen’s countenance and those of some of the other young ladies had a shade of sadness on them as they saw us engaged in doing up our packs and trying our newly-bought mules. Dick and I each purchased a strong, active horse from Mr Praeger, for which we gave him long prices as some return for his hospitality; and we then presented him with our own steeds, which were likely to pick up muscle and flesh on his rich pastures.

Though he was as courteous as ever, he did not press us to stay, and at length, all our traps being prepared, we set off, accompanied by old Folkard, who did not even ask whether we wished for his society or not. Armitage remained behind, so I did not witness his parting with Miss Hargrave, but he soon galloped after us. Peter accompanied us as far as his brother’s, to take the place of poor Mark, who was still unfit for work, though in a fair way of recovery. We spent a day with the young backwoodsmen, whose hearts were delighted with a present of a first-rate Joe Manton. Our intention was to push on for the base of the Rocky Mountains to a region where deer and buffalo and big-horns abounded. We shot several deer, but as we had come across no buffalo, the larger herds had, we supposed, moved northward. We had encamped one afternoon earlier than usual, being tempted to halt by a wide stream and a wood near at hand. Our fire being lighted and our meat put on to roast and stew, Armitage, Story, and I took our guns to go out in search of turkeys or other small game, should we be unable to find deer. Armitage took two of his dogs, though they often gave us more trouble than assistance in hunting. We had, however, been tolerably successful, and shot three fine gobblers and some smaller birds, when, as we were returning towards camp, the dogs gave tongue and started off to the right, refusing to return at their master’s call.

We hurried on as fast as the rough nature of the ground would allow us. We were on the top of some low cliffs which had formed at some time or other of the world’s history the side of a torrent now dried up and overgrown