CHAPTER III.
THE EMIGRANTS.
When he went out on the trail, the hunter's old experience did notdeceive him; and the traces he had followed up were really those ofan emigrant family. As it is destined to play a certain part in ourstory, we will introduce it to the reader, and explain, as briefly aspossible, by what chain of events it was at this moment encamped on theprairies of the Upper Mississippi, or, to speak like the learned, onthe banks of the Missouri.
The history of one emigrant is that of the mass. All are people who,burdened by a numerous family, find a difficulty in rendering theirchildren independent, either through the bad quality of the land theycultivate, or because, in proportion as the population increases, theland, in the course of a few years, gains an excessive value.
The Mississippi has become during the last few years the highway ofthe world. Every vessel that enters on its waters brings the newestablishments the means of supplying themselves, either by barter orfor money, with the chief commodities of existence. Thus the explorershave spread along both banks of the river, which have become thehighways of emigration, by the prospect they offer the pioneers ofpossessing fine estates, and holding them a number of years, withoutthe troublesome process of paying rent.
The word "country," in the sense we attach to it in Europe, does notexist for the North American. He is not, like our rustics, attached,from father to son, to the soil which has been the cradle of hisfamily. He is only attached to the land by what it may bring himin; but when it is exhausted by too large a crop, and the colonisthas tried in vain to restore its primitive fertility, his mind isspeedily made up. He disposes of things too troublesome or expensiveto transport; only keeps what is absolutely necessary, as servants,horses, and domestic utensils; says good-bye to his neighbours, whopress his hand as if the journey he is about to undertake is thesimplest matter in the world, and at daybreak, on a fine springmorning, he gaily sets out, turning a parting and careless glance atthat country where he and his family have lived so long. His thoughtsare already directed forward; the past no longer exists for him, thefuture alone smiles on him and sustains his courage.
Nothing is so simple, primitive, and at the same time picturesque, asthe departure of a family of pioneers. The horses are attached to thewagons, already laden with the bed furniture and the younger children,while on the other side are fastened the spinning wheels, and swayingbehind, a skin filled with tallow and pitch. The axes are laid in thebottom of the cart, and cauldrons and pots roll about pell-mell in thehorses' trough; the tents and provisions are securely fastened underthe vehicle, suspended by ropes. Such is the moveable estate of theemigrant. The eldest son, or a servant, bestrides the first horse,the pioneer's wife sits on the other. The emigrant and his sons, withshouldered rifles, walk round the wagon, sometimes in front, sometimesbehind, followed by their dogs, touching up the oxen and watching overthe common safety.
Thus they set out, travelling by short stages through unexploredcountries and along frightful roads, which they are generallycompelled themselves to make: braving cold and heat, rain and snow,striving against Indians and wild beasts, seeing at each spot almostinsurmountable difficulties rising before them: but nothing, stops theemigrants, no peril can check them, no impossibility discourage them.They march on thus for whole months, keeping intact in their heartsthat faith in their luck which nothing shakes, until they at lengthreach a site which offers them those conditions of comfort which theyhave sought so long.
But, alas! how many families that have left the cities of Americafull of hope and courage have disappeared, leaving no other trace oftheir passage of the prairie than their whitened bones and scatteredfurniture. The Indians, ever on the watch at the entrance of thedesert, attack the caravans, mercilessly massacre the pioneers, andcarry off into slavery their wives and daughters, avenging themselveson the emigrants for the atrocities to which they have been victimsduring so many centuries, and continuing, to their own profit, thatwar of extermination which the white men inaugurated on their landingin America, and which, since that period, has gone on uninterruptedly.
John Black belonged to the class of emigrants we have just described.One day, about four months previously, he quitted his house, which wasfalling to ruins, and loading the little he possessed on a cart, heset out, followed by his family, consisting of his wife, his daughter,his son, and two menservants who had consented to follow his fortunes.Since that period they had not stopped. They had marched boldlyforward, cutting their way by the help of their axes through the virginforests, and determined on traversing the desert, until they found aspot favourable for the establishment of a new household.
At the period when our story takes place, emigration was much rarerthan it is at present, when, owing to the recent discovery ofauriferous strata in California and on the Fraser River, an emigrationfever has seized on the masses with such intensity, that the old worldis growing more and more depopulated, to the profit of the new. Gold isa magnet whose strength attracts, without distinction, young or old,men or women, by the hope, too often deceived, of acquiring in a littletime, at the cost of some slight fatigue, a fortune; which, however,rarely compensates for the labour undergone in its collection.
It was, therefore, unusual boldness on the part of John Black thus toventure, without any possible aid, into a country hitherto utterlyunexplored, and of which the Indians were masters. Mr. Black wasborn in Virginia: he was a man of about fifty, of middle height, butstrongly built, and gifted with uncommon vigour; and, although hisfeatures were very ordinary, his face had a rare expression of firmnessand resolution.
His wife, ten years younger than himself, was a gentle and holycreature, on whose brow fatigue and alarm had long before formed deepfurrows, beneath which, however, a keen observer could have stilldetected traces of no ordinary beauty.
William Black, the emigrant's son, was a species of giant of more thansix feet in height, aged two-and-twenty, of Herculean build, and whosejolly, plump face, surrounded by thick tufts of hair of a more thansandy hue, breathed frankness and joviality.
Diana, his sister, formed a complete contrast with him. She was alittle creature, scarce sixteen years of age, with eyes of a deepblue like the sky, apparently frail and delicate, with a dreamy browand laughing mouth, which belonged both to woman and angel; and whosestrange beauty seduced at the first glance and subjugated at thefirst word that fell from her rosy lips. Diana was the idol of thefamily--the cherished idol, that everyone adored, and who, by a wordor a glance, could command the obedience of the rude natures thatsurrounded her, and who only seemed to live that they might satisfy herslightest caprices.
Sam and James, the two labourers, were worthy Kentucky rustics, ofextraordinary strength, and who concealed a great amount of cunningbeneath their simple and even slightly silly aspect. These two youngfellows, one of whom was twenty-six, the other hardly thirty, had grownup in John Black's house, and had vowed to him an unbounded devotion,of which they had furnished proofs several times since the journeybegan.
When John left his house to go in search of a more fertile country,he proposed to these two men to leave him, not wishing to expose themto the dangers of the precarious life which was about to begin forhimself; but both shook their heads negatively, replying to all thatwas said to them, that it was their duty to follow their master, nomatter whither he went, and they were ready to accompany him to the endof the world. The emigrant had been obliged to yield to a determinationso clearly expressed, and replied, that as matters were so, they mightfollow him. Hence these two honest labourers were not regarded asservants, but as friends, and treated in accordance. In truth, thereis nothing like a common danger to draw people together; and duringthe last four months John Black's family had been exposed to dangersinnumerable.
The emigrant took with him a rather large number of beasts, whichcaused the caravan, despite all the precautions taken, to leave such awide trail, as rendered an Indian attack possible at any moment. Still,up to the present moment, when w
e pay them a visit, no serious dangerhad really menaced them. At times they were exposed to rather smartalarms; but the Indians had always kept at a respectable distance, andlimited themselves to demonstrations, hostile it is true, but neverfollowed by any results.
During the first week of their march, the emigrants, but little versedin the mode of life of the Redskins, who incessantly prowled round theparty, had been afflicted with the most exaggerated fears, expectingevery moment to be attacked by those ferocious enemies, about whomthey had heard stories which might make the bravest tremble; but, asso frequently happens, they had grown used to this perpetual threatof the Indians, and, while taking the strictest precautions for theirsafety, they had learned almost to deride the dangers which they hadso much feared at the outset, and felt convinced that their calm andresolute attitude had produced an effect on the Redskins, and that thelatter would not venture to come into collision with them.
Still, on this day a vague restlessness had seized on the party: theyhad a sort of secret foreboding that a great danger menaced them. TheIndians, who, as we have said, usually accompanied them out of reachof gunshot, had all at once become invisible. Since their start fromtheir last camping ground, they had not seen a single one, though theyinstinctively suspected that, if the Indians were invisible, they werenot the less present, and possibly in larger numbers than before.Thus the day passed, sorrowfully and silently for the emigrants: theymarched side by side, eye and ear on the watch, with their fingers onthe trigger, not daring to impart their mutual fears, but (to use aSpanish expression) having their beards on their shoulders, like menexpecting to be attacked at any moment. Still, the day passed withoutthe slightest incident occurring to corroborate their apprehensions.
At sunset, the caravan was at the foot of one of those numerous moundsto which we have already alluded, and so large a number of which borderthe banks of the river at this spot. John Black made a sign to his son,who drove the cart, to stop, get down, and join him: while the twofemales looked around them restlessly, the four men, assembled a fewpaces in the rear, were engaged in a whispered conversation.
"Boys," Mr. Black said to his attentive companions, "the day is ended,the sun is descending behind the mountains over there, it is time tothink about the night's rest. Our beasts are fatigued; we ourselvesneed to collect our strength for tomorrow's labour; I think, thoughopen to correction, that we should do well to profit by the short timeleft us to establish our camp."
"Yes," James answered, "we have in front of us a hillock, on the top ofwhich it would be easy for us to take up our quarters."
"And which," William interrupted him, "we could convert into an almostimpregnable fortress in a few hours."
"We should have a hard job in getting the wagon up the hill," thefather said, shaking his head.
"Nonsense," Sam objected, "not so much as you suppose, Master Black; alittle trouble, and we can manage it."
"How so?"
"Why," the servant replied, "we need only unload the wagon."
"That's true; when it's empty, it will be easy to get it to the top ofthe hill."
"Stay," William observed, "do you think, father, that it is reallynecessary to take all that trouble? A night is soon spent, and I fancywe should do well to remain where we are: the position is an excellentone; it is only a few paces to the river bank, and we can lead our oxento water."
"No; we must not remain here, the place is too open, and we should haveno shelter if the Indians attacked us."
"The Indians!" the young man said, with a laugh; "why, we have notseen a single one the whole day."
"Yes; what you say, William, is correct, the Redskins have disappeared;but shall I tell you my real thoughts? It is really this disappearance,which I do not understand, that troubles me."
"Why so, father?"
"Because, if they are hiding, they are preparing some ambuscade, and donot wish us to know the direction where they are."
"Come, father, do you really believe that?" the young man remarked in alight tone.
"I am convinced of it," the emigrant said earnestly. The two servantsbowed their heads in affirmation.
"You will pardon me, father, if I do not share your opinion," the youngman continued. "For my own part, on the other hand, I feel certain thatthese red devils, who have been following us so long, have eventuallyunderstood that they could gain nothing from us but bullets, and, likeprudent men, have given up following us further."
"No, no; you are mistaken, my son, it is not so."
"Look ye, father," the young man continued, with a certain amount ofexcitement, "allow me to make an observation which, I think, will bringyou over to my way of thinking."
"Do so, my son; we are here to exchange our opinions freely, and selectthe best: the common interest is at stake, and we have to act for thesafety of all: under circumstances so grave as the present, I shouldnever forgive myself for neglecting good advice, no matter from whom itcame; speak, therefore, without timidity."
"You know, father," the young man went on, "that the Indians understandhonour differently from ourselves; that is to say, when the success ofan expedition is not clearly proved to them, they have no shame aboutresigning it, because what they seek in the first place is profit."
"I know all that, my son; but I do not see yet what you are driving at."
"You will soon understand me. For nearly two months, from sunrise, themoment we set out, to sunset, which is generally the time of our halt,the Redskins have been following us step by step, and we have beenunable to escape for a single moment these most troublesome neighbours,who have watched our every movement."
"That is true," John Black said, "but what do you conclude from that?"
"A very simple thing: they have seen that we were continually on ourguard, and that if they attempted to attack us, they would be beaten;hence they have retired, that is all."
"Unfortunately, William, you have forgotten one thing."
"What is it?"
"This: the Indians, generally not so well armed as the white men, areafraid to attack them, especially when they suppose they shall have todeal with persons almost as numerous as themselves, and in the bargain,sheltered behind wagons and bales of merchandise; but that is not atall the case here: since they have been watching us, the Indians havehad many opportunities of counting us, and have done so long ago."
"Yes," Sam said.
"Well, they know that we are only four--they are at least fifty, ifthey are not more numerous. What can four men, in spite of all theircourage, effect against such a considerable number of enemies? Nothing,The Redskins know it, and they will act in accordance; that is, whenthe opportunity offers, they will not fail to seize it."
"But--"--the young man objected.
"Another consideration to which you have not paid attention," JohnBlack quietly continued, "is that the Indians, whatever the number oftheir enemies may be, never quit them without having attempted, atleast once, to surprise them."
"In truth," William answered, "that astonishes me on their part:however, I am of your opinion, father; even if the precautions wepropose taking only serve to reassure my mother and sister, it would bewell not to neglect them."
"Well spoken, William," the emigrant remarked, "let us therefore set towork without delay."
The party broke up, and the four men, throwing their rifles on theirshoulders, began making active preparations for the encampment. Samcollected the oxen by the aid of the dogs, and led them down to theriver to drink. John, in the meanwhile, went up to the wagon.
"Well, my love," his wife asked him, "why this halt, and this longdiscussion? Has any accident occurred?"
"Nothing that need at all alarm you, Lucy," the emigrant answered; "weare going to camp, that is all."
"Oh, gracious me! I do not know why, but I was afraid lest somemisfortune had happened."
"On the contrary; we are quieter than we have been for a long time."
"How so, father?" Diana asked, thrusting her charming face from
underthe canvas which concealed her.
"Those rascally Indians, who frightened us so much, my darling Diana,have at length made up their minds to leave us; we have not seen asingle one during the whole day."
"Oh, all the better!" the girl said quickly, as she clapped her daintypalms together; "I confess that I am not brave, and those frightful Redmen caused me terrible alarm."
"Well, you will not see them again, I hope," John Black said, gaily;though while giving his daughter this assurance to appease her fears,he did not believe a word he uttered. "Now," he added, "have, thegoodness to get down, so that we may unload the wagon."
"Unload the wagon," the old lady remarked, "why so?
"It is just possible," the husband answered, anxious not to reveal thereal reason, "that we may remain here a few days, in order to rest thecattle."
"Ah, very good," she said; and she got out, followed by her daughter.
The two ladies had scarce set foot on ground, ere the men beganunloading the wagon. This task lasted nearly an hour. Sam had timeenough to lead the cattle to water, and collect them on the top of thehill.
"Are we going to camp, then?" Mrs. Black asked.
"Yes," her husband answered.
"Come, Diana," the old lady said.
The two women packed up some kitchen utensils, and clomb the hill,where, after lighting the fire, they began preparing supper. So soon asthe cart was unloaded, the two labouring men, aided by William, pushedit behind, while John Black, at the head of the team, began floggingthe horses. The incline was rather steep, but owing to the vigour ofthe horses and the impatience of the men, who at each step laid rollersbehind the wheels, the wagon at last reached the top. The rest was asnothing, and within an hour the camp was arranged as follows.
The emigrants formed, with the bales and trees they felled, a largecircle, in the midst of which the cattle were tied up, and then put upa tent for the two women. When this was effected, John Black cast aglance of satisfaction around. His family were temporarily protectedfrom a coup de main--thanks to the manner in which the bales and treeswere arranged, and the party were enabled to fire from under cover onany enemy that might attack them, and defend themselves a long timesuccessfully.
The sun had set for more than an hour before these various preparationswere completed, and supper was ready. The Americans seated themselvesin a circle round the fire, and ate with the appetite of men accustomedto danger--an appetite which the greatest alarm cannot deprive them of.After the meal, John Black offered up a prayer, as he did every eveningbefore going to rest; the others standing, with uncovered heads,listened attentively to the prayer, and when it was completed, the twoladies entered the hut prepared for them.
"And now," Black said, "let us keep a careful watch the night is dark,the moon rises late, and you are aware that the Indians choose themorning, the moment when sleep is deepest, to attack their enemies."
The fire was covered, so that its light should not reveal the exactposition of the camp; and the two servants lay down side by side on thegrass, where they soon fell asleep: while father and son, standing ateither extremity of the camp, watched over the common safety.
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