Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 7

"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 in several loud laughs at the flying fugitive. Nat continued his mad career until he had gone a good distance, when, seeing how far behind he had left us, he reined up and awaited our approach.

The savages, in the meantime, were hurrying on in pursuit. I know not what 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 or bottom 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 as is 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 his horse, took a quick aim along its long barrel and fired. To my astonishment, the Indian mentioned uttered a wild shriek, and springing high in the air, fell to the earth.

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

I raised mine to my shoulder, and pointing it toward a conspicuous savage, pulled the trigger. As might be expected, I came about as near to 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 bite the dust.

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

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

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

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

"What of it?" gruffly asked Biddon.

"That's a pretty question to ask, I should think! I swow I won't stand any 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 have free rein.

The race was now decided. At such speed as we went, of course the pursuers 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, and were obliged to make a long _detour_ to regain the trail. We camped at night about as far south as the previous camp, but farther west. In the morning we struck due north, and continued in this direction for several days.

It is not necessary to give the particulars of our journey to the northwest. We continued traveling onward for three days, when we reached the region where it was intended we should remain until spring. This was much further northward than I suspected; in fact, it was but a few miles distant from the Hudson Bay Territory, and upon one of the remote tributaries of the Missouri. We had entered a climate that even now, was like the winter of the one we had left. We had entered a mighty wilderness, where, ere we left it, we were doomed to pa.s.s through some strange experiences, and of which I now shall speak.

We had detected signs of beavers at several streams which we crossed during the last day or two of our journey, but Biddon paid no attention to them until about the middle of the afternoon, when we reached a small river, flowing nearly due south, and pa.s.sing through the Hudson Bay Territory in its course. This stream we forded, and, as we 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 pa.s.sed over no clear prairie during the day, and were in the midst of a deep wood. The trees were of nearly every conceivable kind--the cottonwood predominating, with oak, elm, ash, walnut, and such as are common in our own forests.

After crossing, the trapper headed directly up-stream for a short distance, when he turned to the left and descended into a valley. Here he 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 and reds."

The spot selected was a broad bottom of rich gra.s.s, inclosed by thick walls 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 big trail."

We followed nearly a quarter of a mile directly up-stream, when he halted, 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' hold on a minute."

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

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

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

We joined him, although our combined weight brought the frail vessel down to its very gunwales. It was made of bark after the Indian fashion, very light, but strong. Biddon dipped a long Indian paddle in the water and we moved slowly up-stream. After going a short distance, he again touched the bank, and from beneath another lot of shrubbery drew forth a number of beaver traps. These were similar to the common trap used in all parts of the world, and set much after the same fashion, but with a very different bait. At every point where signs of the animals were visible, he dug down the bank, so as to make a certain spot perpendicular. Just beneath the surface of the water he then placed the trap. The next and last proceeding was to smear the banks around with a very odoriferous oil, obtained from the beaver itself. This smell attracts the beavers in the vicinity, who immediately swim to the sh.o.r.e to learn more of it. The trap is so arranged that one is sure to place his foot directly upon it for support in ascending the bank, and the natural consequence follows. He is caught and falls into his mortal enemy's hands.

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

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

"If you had read much of these animals, you would know that the part mentioned 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 take us?"

"You'll find out when we get thar."