Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Life in the Northwest

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Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Life in the Northwest Page 4

by Edward Sylvester Ellis


  CHAPTER IV.

  THE TRAPPING GROUNDS.

  I was agreeably surprised upon waking to see Nat standing within a fewfeet, holding two horses by the bridle.

  "Which one will you choose?" he asked with a broad smile.

  "How did you come by them?" asked I.

  "I s'pose it must have been about the time you left us last night,that Biddon woke me up, and told me to follow him, as there was a_powerful_ chance to get a couple of hosses for you and me. I askedhim where you could be, and he said he s'posed you'd gone furtherup-stream to sleep by yourself, though he hadn't seen you go.Howsumever, we wasn't worried, as we thought you were old enough totake care of yourself, so we started down the bed of the stream. Wewent about half a mile, when Biddon showed me a small camp-fire,burned down to a few coals and ashes; but there was enough light toshow us two hosses picketed a few yards away, and we seen the feet ofa couple of redskins turned toward the fire. Biddon said as how theywas a couple of hunters, sound asleep, and we might _borrow_ theirhorses, if I didn't make too much noise. He told me to stand still,and keep my gun pointed at them, and the minute one stirred to shoothim, and then rush in, and dispatch the other. I promised to do so,and he stole around to the hosses on his hands and knees. He had cutboth the lariats and was leading them away, when one of the Indiansraised his head and looked around, and as soon as he seen the hossesmoving off, give a grunt and jumped up and ran toward them. Iremembered it was my duty to shoot, and as the Indian was runningpurty fast, I aimed about ten feet ahead of him, supposing, of course,the villain would git there as soon as the bullet did; but, I'll behanged if he wasn't mean enough to stop, and let the bullet be wasted.My gun kicked like blazes, and the Ingins I s'pose thought a wholetribe was upon them; for setting up a great howl, they _skooted_ offin the darkness, leaving us alone with the animals. Running back, Iovertook Biddon, who was riding along as though nothing had happened.He asked me to ride and of course I jumped on, and here I am. Butwhich hoss do you want?"

  "I do not see as there is much room for choice," I replied; "both aresplendid animals, and a most opportune blessing."

  "If it's all the same to you, this gentleman is mine;" and handing thebridle to me, he vaulted upon the other. The latter was a magnificentIndian pony, of a deep bay color, probably captured when very young,and high spirited and fiery. Both manifested considerable uneasiness,knowing they were in the hands of strangers, and Nat's made one or twoefforts to dislodge him; but he was a good horseman, and maintainedhis place with apparent ease despite the struggles, which were franticand desperate at first. Mine was somewhat larger, of a coal-blackcolor, and with as much spirit and fire as the other, but in a fewmoments we had them both under perfect control.

  Besides these two animals, we gained two fine Indian saddles, and werenow as well mounted as we could wish. Nat remarked, that when thebuffaloes thundered by he felt some apprehension for me, but thetrapper expressed none, saying that I would be found all right in themorning. As soon as there was light, Nat commenced searching the bedof the stream for me, and failing in this, he climbed a tree and tooka survey of the prairie on both sides. From his elevation hediscovered what he believed to be my dead body; and, accompanied byBiddon and the horses, hastened toward me. Upon reaching me, theyunderstood instantly the whole matter, and it was their loud laughterthat had aroused me.

  We were now pretty far to the northwest of Nebraska Territory. Theface of the country was materially different, and I began to notice achange of temperature. The summer had just closed, and the earlyautumn was like the approach of winter. The nights were cool andchilling, and the days generally mild at noon, but often keen andexhilarating. The prairie was mostly of the rolling kind, but thebelts of timber were more common, and the vegetation richer and moreexuberant. It was plain, too, that we were journeying into a sectionwhere the foot of civilization had not been. The vast, undulatingswell of the prairie, the mighty fields of verdure, and the broadrivers and streams, bore only the marks of the red man and wild beast.

  Toward noon, Nat descried a solitary antelope far ahead. It was near agrove of timber, from which it had just wandered, and stood gazingwonderingly at our approach. We rode on in silence for some time, whenBiddon raised his hand for us to halt.

  "What do you intend doing?" I asked.

  "Jes' hold on and see," he replied, as he dismounted.

  He made a circuit, skirting the prairie, so as to reach the grovementioned upon the opposite side from the antelope. I still was at aloss to understand his intention, as the animal was too distant fromthe timber to be brought down with a rifle-shot from that point.

  "What under the sun does he intend doing?" I asked, turning to Nat.

  "Guess he's getting off there to shoot us."

  On the outer edge of the grove, next to the antelope, I saw himemerge, holding a stick over his head, to which was affixed ahandkerchief or rag. He walked a short distance, and then lay downflat upon the prairie, perfectly concealed in the grass. The rag wasvisible, fluttering above him. I now watched the motions of theantelope. He stood gazing at us, until the trapper came into view,when, with a startled glance at him, he wheeled and ran. In a moment,however, he paused and turned quickly around. His looks were now fixedupon the fluttering signal. He stood motionless a moment, and thencautiously lifting his foot, made a step toward it. Thus he continuedto approach, step by step, with apparent fear, and yet evidentlyimpelled by an ungovernable curiosity, until he was scarce a hundredyards distant from the prostrate form of the trapper. Still he wasmoving stealthily onward, when suddenly a red tongue of fire spoutedfrom the grass, and, as the sharp crack of Biddon's rifle reached us,we saw the antelope give a wild leap into the air, and, bounding ashort distance, fall to the ground. The trapper immediately sprang tohis feet and hastened to the fallen animal.

  "Let us ride to him," said I, walking my horse onward.

  We had ridden a short distance when Nat halted and asked:

  "What's got into Biddon? Just look at him!"

  I did look up, and for a moment believed the man had turned crazy. Hehad seen us approaching, and was now making furious gesticulationstoward us. I watched him a moment, and then remarked:

  "He is either signaling for us to come on or to stop."

  "He means us to wait, I guess, and we had better pause until hereturns."

  We reined in our horses and watched him. He was apparently satisfiedwith our stopping, and stooped and commenced working at the animal. Ina few moments he arose, and slinging a huge piece on his shoulder,made his way into the grove. From this he emerged in due time, andmade his way toward us, motioning, meanwhile, for us to remain in ourplaces.

  "Why didn't you wish us to approach?" I asked, as soon as he camewithin speaking distance.

  He made no answer, but throwing his meat upon the ground, hastilymounted his horse. Then he spoke in a deep whisper:

  "Boys, did you 'spose there's over twenty redskins among them trees?"

  "Heavens! it isn't possible?" I exclaimed, catching my breath.

  "It's so; I seed 'em, and thar eyes are on us this minute. They'rewaitin' for us to go on, an' they'll give us thunder and lightnin'."

  "What's to be done?" queried Nat.

  "Jes' keep still, an' don't kick up, or they'll see it. We've got tomake a run for it. Keep close to me, and when I start, let your horseswent."

  "But the meat?" I hurriedly asked.

  "Can't take it. We have a long run, an' our horses won't want to carryno extra load. I didn't see thar animals, but I guess they ain'tmounted. Ready!"

  With this, Biddon wheeled his horse quickly around, and vanished fromhis place with the speed of lightning, while ours almostsimultaneously shot ahead like an arrow. An instant after, I heardthe faint discharge of guns, and, looking back, saw a host ofsavage forms pouring hastily from the timber.

  "Looking back saw a host of savage forms."]

  "No need of hurrying. They are not mounted," I called out to Nat, whohas hurrying his horse to
the utmost.

  "I don't believe it," he exclaimed, still speeding furiously onward.

  "Go it, Todd! you'll fetch up at Fort Laramie," yelled Biddon.

  The latter drew his horse into a steady canter, and indulged inseveral loud laughs at the flying fugitive. Nat continued his madcareer until he had gone a good distance, when, seeing how far behindhe had left us, he reined up and awaited our approach.

  The savages, in the meantime, were hurrying on in pursuit. I know notwhat led them to expect any success in this chase, for, as remarked,not one was mounted. They may have had little faith in the speed orbottom of our horses, and trusted they would be able to run us down.Biddon half turned in his seat, and, looking back a moment, asked:

  "Do you see that red, diggin' like all mad off on one side? The one asis tryin' to surround us?"

  I glanced back and answered in the affirmative.

  "Do you want to see a red drop in purty style?"

  I answered again in the affirmative.

  "Wal, jis keep yer peeper on him."

  So saying, he raised his rifle, without checking the speed of hishorse, took a quick aim along its long barrel and fired. To myastonishment, the Indian mentioned uttered a wild shriek, andspringing high in the air, fell to the earth.

  "He's done for," remarked the trapper, quietly. "While I fodder myiron, 'sposen you try your hand."

  I raised mine to my shoulder, and pointing it toward a conspicuoussavage, pulled the trigger. As might be expected, I came about as nearto him as I did to Nat, in front.

  "It will take a long time for me to accomplish that feat," said I.

  "Wal, yer goes agin."

  And again was the fatal rifle discharged, and again did a savage bitethe dust.

  Still the pursuers maintained their ground, seemingly determined toovertake us at all hazards. They were separating and scattering overthe prairie, with the evident intention of hemming us in. At thismoment we came up to Nat.

  "Why don't you run?" he asked, impatiently. "They'll shoot us allafore we know it."

  He had scarcely finished his words, when the pursuers did fire, andwith an uncomfortable effect, too. The bullets were plainly heardwhistling through the air beside us, and one actually cut its waythrough the upper part of Nat's hat, some eight or ten inches from thecrown of his head. He dodged nervously, and jerking the hat off hishead, held it up to view.

  "Just look there!" he exclaimed, indignantly, putting his fingerthrough the orifice.

  "What of it?" gruffly asked Biddon.

  "That's a pretty question to ask, I should think! I swow I won't standany such work as this."

  And giving his horse the rein, he shot rapidly ahead.

  "I guess we mought as well," remarked Biddon, letting his horse havefree rein.

  The race was now decided. At such speed as we went, of course thepursuers were soon left behind, and in an hour not one was visible,all of them being either distanced or having voluntarily withdrawn.

  Our course was southwest; so that we had lost considerable ground, andwere obliged to make a long _detour_ to regain the trail. We camped atnight about as far south as the previous camp, but farther west. Inthe morning we struck due north, and continued in this direction forseveral days.

  It is not necessary to give the particulars of our journey to thenorthwest. We continued traveling onward for three days, when wereached the region where it was intended we should remain untilspring. This was much further northward than I suspected; in fact, itwas but a few miles distant from the Hudson Bay Territory, and uponone of the remote tributaries of the Missouri. We had entered aclimate that even now, was like the winter of the one we had left. Wehad entered a mighty wilderness, where, ere we left it, we were doomedto pass through some strange experiences, and of which I now shallspeak.

  We had detected signs of beavers at several streams which we crossedduring the last day or two of our journey, but Biddon paid noattention to them until about the middle of the afternoon, when wereached a small river, flowing nearly due south, and passing throughthe Hudson Bay Territory in its course. This stream we forded, and, aswe reached the opposite side, he remarked:

  "Yer' the spot whar we're goin' to squat."

  It is perhaps worth remarking that the section was a wooded country.We had passed over no clear prairie during the day, and were in themidst of a deep wood. The trees were of nearly every conceivablekind--the cottonwood predominating, with oak, elm, ash, walnut, andsuch as are common in our own forests.

  After crossing, the trapper headed directly up-stream for a shortdistance, when he turned to the left and descended into a valley. Herehe dismounted.

  "Take yer fixins'," said he, "and turn the hosses loose."

  "Won't they wander away?" I asked.

  "_Yourn_ may, but mine _won't_; you've got to take your chances,though. 'Tain't likely they'll be 'sturbed, 'cept by grizzlys andreds."

  The spot selected was a broad bottom of rich grass, inclosed by thickwalls of undergrowth upon every side. Here we left our horses, and,taking our saddles and trappings, moved away.

  "Have you ever been here before?" I asked of the trapper.

  "I stayed yer last season, but didn't 'spect to come back. Howsumever,I changed my mind, and yer we is. Move keerful and don't make a bigtrail."

  We followed nearly a quarter of a mile directly up-stream, when hehalted, and looked carefully about him.

  "I don't s'pose thar's reds 'bout, but thar's no tellin' whar they is.I didn't see none last year, but they mought be 'bout now. Jes' holdon a minute."

  The banks of the stream were fringed by a deep under-growth upon bothsides. Stepping forward to the water's edge, the trapper parted thebranches, and glancing a moment within, motioned for us to approach.

  "It's all right," said he, "there hain't been no reds poki' 'bout yerwhile I's gone."

  With this he stooped and pushed a small canoe into the water andslipped within it.

  We joined him, although our combined weight brought the frail vesseldown to its very gunwales. It was made of bark after the Indianfashion, very light, but strong. Biddon dipped a long Indian paddle inthe water and we moved slowly up-stream. After going a short distance,he again touched the bank, and from beneath another lot of shrubberydrew forth a number of beaver traps. These were similar to the commontrap used in all parts of the world, and set much after the samefashion, but with a very different bait. At every point where signs ofthe animals were visible, he dug down the bank, so as to make acertain spot perpendicular. Just beneath the surface of the water hethen placed the trap. The next and last proceeding was to smear thebanks around with a very odoriferous oil, obtained from the beaveritself. This smell attracts the beavers in the vicinity, whoimmediately swim to the shore to learn more of it. The trap is soarranged that one is sure to place his foot directly upon it forsupport in ascending the bank, and the natural consequence follows. Heis caught and falls into his mortal enemy's hands.

  "Ef one don't have a dinner on beaver tails tomorrow, then I'm abeaver," remarked Biddon, after he had set all his traps, and headedhis canoe down stream.

  "A dinner on beaver tails!" exclaimed Nat, in astonishment. "That mustbe a fine dinner, I swow."

  "If you had read much of these animals, you would know that the partmentioned by Biddon, is the most delicious and nourishing portion,"said I.

  "And when you gits a bite of it, you'll find it so, I reckons!"

  "Perhaps so," replied Nat, doubtingly; "but whar ar' you going to takeus?"

  "You'll find out when we get thar."

  The trapper rowed the canoe quite a distance down stream, when hesheered it into shore close to where a huge chestnut, larger than anyI had ever before witnessed, overhung the water. Its base wasenveloped by a mass of undergrowth, denser than common, and we wereobliged to stoop to the edge of the boat before we could make our waybeneath it. As we sprang up the bank, it pulled up behind us, and Ithen noticed that the chestnut was hollow, and had a deep orifice atits base.
>
  "Foller," commanded Biddon, stooping and crawling beneath it.

  We did so, although there was some hesitation upon my part, and myastonishment was unbounded at what I witnessed when within. At firstthere was nothing visible but the intense darkness, and I stood,fearful of advancing or retreating.

  "Where are you, Biddon?" asked Nat, in a slightly wavering tone. Thenext instant the trapper struck a light; and as its rays filled thechamber, I repeat, my astonishment was unbounded. We were standing inan open space, at least eight feet in diameter. The chestnut was but amere shell, with its trunk but a few inches in thickness at the most.The interior of this was fitted up like a house. The rotten chunksupon the sides had been torn down and formed a pleasant, velvetycarpet beneath the feet. All around the _walls_ were hung numerousfurs, and a pile at one side afforded a bed such as we had not enjoyedfor weeks. Added to all this, there was an arrangement so as to makeit perfectly easy and convenient to kindle a fire. Nat was the firstto express his unbounded astonishment.

  "This beats all. I never seen anything like it. But don't the Injinsknow anything of it?"

  "No, _sir_; and I cac'late as how they won't neyther, ef you don'ttell 'em."

  "Oh! I won't tell them. I swow this is queer," and he looked slowlyabout and above him. "What's that hole for?" he asked, pointing to asmall orifice just visible far above us.

  "That's fur the smoke to go out."

  "But it must be likely to attract attention," I remarked.

  "I never start a fire 'cept at night."

  "I see--wonderful!" and I, too, gazed admiringly about me. The lightmade the whole interior visible. The dark, snuff-colored fragments ofdecayed wood hung in ponderous masses above us, and the immensediameter gradually tapered as it ascended, until only the smallopening, far above, was seen, resembling a faint star. The thicknessof the wood, together with the great number of furs, protected us sowell from the cold, that there could be little need of fire in thecoldest weather, except for cooking purposes.

  "This is rather odd, I allow, to you, Jarsey; but ef you had been withme down on the Yallerstone, you'd seen suthin' as would've made youlook, you would. You may shoot me, ef you wouldn't."

  "I suppose I should, but not more than this has."

  "Mebbe not, but don't stand gapin' there all day. It's gittin' dark,and we'll have our fodder."

  The fire was now started, and the smoke ascended finely, escaping atthe outlet. A good slice of meat was cooked, and we made a heartysupper upon it. After this the fire was allowed to slumber, but thelight remained burning until a late hour. We lit our pipes, andchatted dreamily for a long time in our new home. The trapper, feelingin the mood, related many reminiscences of his life, includingadventures both tragical and comical, and Nat gave a few of his ownexperiences. At a late hour we ceased, and fell into a peaceful,dreamless slumber.

  When I awoke the trapper had disappeared. Nat was stretched beside mestill asleep. In a short time the former entered as noiselessly as hehad departed.

  "What fortune?" I asked.

  "Good; had two fat fellers. Wake up, and we'll have a meal as is ameal."

  Nat soon made a movement, and, after several yawns, became fullyawake. The trapper kindled a small fire, and cooked his beaver tails.The two made as choice and delicious a meal as I had ever eaten. Natwas convinced by one taste.

  The day was clear and pleasant, and Biddon expressed his determinationof going up the stream in order to see the signs of game. Iaccompanied him, but Nat chose to remain at home and sleep a few hourslonger.

  We sauntered carelessly forth up the stream through the tangledunderwood. It was a clear day in autumn; the air was keen and bracing,and the woods gloriously fine. Some of the leaves were just beginningto fall, and they made a dappled and fiery carpet for our feet,rustling with a soft, pleasant sound at every step. Now and then wecould hear the shrill notes of some songster of the forest, and onceor twice the faint bay of some distant animal.

  We had wandered some distance, when Biddon proposed turning back, ashe had just discovered he had forgotten his pipe. I was too wellpleased, however, with the prospect to retrace my footsteps.Accordingly, we parted company for a time, he remarking that probablyhe would return when he had regained his indispensable article.

  Left alone, I now wandered dreamily onward, in a pleasant reverie,hardly conscious of what I was doing, until I was recalled to mysenses by the grandeur of a new scene that suddenly burst upon myview. I had ascended a small rise on the bank of the stream, fromwhich I had an extended view of the river. I stood for a moment wraptin the glories of the scene. Far behind could be discerned the broadbosom of the river, stretching away like a vast body of molten silver,bordered on either side by the mighty forest, until it disappeared ina sweeping curve, within the interminable wilderness. Above me forseveral miles the same winding course could be seen, brightlyglistening for miles. Not a ripple disturbed the surface, save when abird skimmed over it, just tipping its wings, and making a flashingcircle or two. The blue sky above, unflecked by a single cloud,harmonized so well with the magnificent view, that I stood a longtime, drinking in the splendor of the scene.

  My eye was still resting upon the glistening bend of the river above,when the quietness of the scene was interrupted by a dark speck whichsuddenly came in view, around a curve about a mile above. At first Isupposed it to be some animal or log floating upon the surface; but asI looked at it, I saw to my astonishment that it was a canoe comingdown-stream. Several forms were visible, yet their number, at thatdistance, was uncertain. The bright flash of their paddles was visiblein the morning sunshine, and they maintained their place near thecenter of the stream.

  "In the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a youngfemale."]

  I scrutinized them, vainly to make out their number, until it occurredto me that it would be best to make myself invisible. The approachingcanoe might contain nothing but Indians, and it was not desirable thatour presence in this section should be known to any but ourselves. Islipped behind the trunk of a tree, nearer the water, yet still uponthe elevated knoll, which entirely concealed my body from sight.

  From this point I watched the approach of the canoe with interest.Soon it came nigh enough to enable me to distinguish the forms withinit. There were two Indian warriors seated each with a paddle in hishand, but not using them, except to keep the canoe in the channel, andin the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female. I supposed her asquaw, belonging to the same tribe with her companions, andscrutinized her as closely as my position would permit. She wore abeautiful head-dress, gayly ornamented with stained porcupine quillsand beads, and a brilliant crimson shawl enveloped her slight form.The savages maintained their places as motionless as statues, theirgaze apparently resting upon the stream behind them; while that of thefemale was fixed upon the stream in front, and her whole attentionabsorbed in directing her canoe.

  I know not whether the inmates discovered me before I concealedmyself, but I fancied I detected a glance of the Indians at myhiding-place, as they floated slowly by, and some cause led thefemale, when directly opposite, and but a few hundred feet distant, toturn her face toward me. Judge of my astonishment, at perceiving thatshe was not an Indian--but a white woman! Her appearance, as sheturned her gaze directly upon the spot where I was standing, I cannever forget. She was so close at hand, and my view so perfect in theclear sunlight, that I saw every feature. The pale white face,surrounded by dark, luxuriant hair falling upon the shoulders, thedark eyes shaded by long inky lashes, and the mute, untranslatablelook, haunted me for many a night after. She merely glanced toward me,and slowly floated past.

  Dropping upon my hands and knees, I crept hastily from the knoll intothe undergrowth below, and made my way hurriedly but noiselessly tothe stream. I could not have been over a minute in so doing, but whenI reached the water, and peered through the bushes, not a trace of thecanoe was visible. I looked closely into each shore, up and down thestream, everywhere that I could look, but could not detect thesligh
test ripple or movement to account for this mysteriousdisappearance. For over an hour I waited in the hope that the canoewould reappear, but I saw nothing more of it.

 

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