 | CHAPTER VI.
OUR FIRST CAMP. The border rover |  |
6. CHAPTER VI.
OUR FIRST CAMP.
Well do I remember our first camp beyond the
borders of civilization. It is one of the pictures which
still hang in the cabinet of memory. The spot selected
was in a little dell, beneath a clustering grove of
hickory, maple, ash, linden and sycamore, through
whose interlocking branches the grape-vine wound in
gay festoons, and made an arbour fit for a lady's siesta.
Through this delightful retreat rippled a rivulet, its
bright, clear waters rolling over a bed of white sand
and pebbles that sparkled like gems. The green,
luxuriant grass was variegated with flowers of many
hues, and birds of gay plumage played bo-peep and
sung songs amid the heavy foliage, or clove the air,
like winged jewels, as they passed over the adjacent
openings.
The face of the country was still the same as we
had passed over during the day—a rolling prairie of
high grass and flowers, alternating with ridges rocky
and steep, and wood-lined streams. Our camp, which
Varney christened Calyptra, was about a quarter of a
mile south of the great trail, and had evidently not
been visited by any of the parties passing so near.
We at once unsaddled our animals, which seemed
eager for the enjoyment before them, and, having
to work to erect our portable tent; which consisted
of small strong ash poles, made to lengthen by means
of iron slides, unite at the top, and fold together like
an umbrella. A sharp iron spike, at the bottom of
each pole, readily penetrated the earth, and made the
base firm; and there were rings and short hand spikes,
by which we could further secure it, with very little
trouble. Over the frame, when spread, we drew a
water-proof canvass, which we fastened down with
hooks; and thus our house was erected, with the cost
of only ten minutes' labor. Underneath this tent
we placed all our baggage, and swung our hammocks
to rings in the poles; so that, whatever might be the
weather without, we could sleep above ground, and
escape being drenched.
“There,” said Varney, when we had put everything
in order, “if the Indians will only be kind enough to
let us alone, I think we can sleep as comfortably as
twin monkeys in a menagerie.”
“It's all powerful nice fur you settlement fellers,”
said Botter, as he inspected outside and inside, with
a look of curiosity; “but I tell you what it is, hyer's
a nigger as 'ud sooner hev 'arth for a bed, and heaven
for a kivering, nor all sich squaw contrivances ever
made. Augh!”
“Every one to his liking,” said I.
“Wall, yes, expect—and that thar's what this hyer
old coon telled old Joe Nesbit's darter, Sal, when she
tuk to a hump-backed, squint-eyed tailor, 'stead of
that thar flimsy fixing is gwine to float out this hyer
way?”
“I see no reason why we may not carry it through
with us.”
“Don't ye now?” said Sam. “Wall, jest you wait
till one of them perrarie storms gits afoul on't, and
you'll hear so'thing howl, or else thar aint no b'ars.
Augh!”
“You think it wouldn't stand a storm-gust, then?”
“Some I've seed afore to-day, 'ud fotch it out like
a Kaintuck dandy-nigger's dickey, you kin gamble on
to that.”
“Well, we must take the chances. My friend,
being in delicate health, was afraid to venture sleeping
on the ground—at least until inured to the climate
and change of life. But where is your companion?”
“Gone fur meat. He seed a deer over yonder, and
felt like chawing—fur Wolfy's one of them as is
powerful on to feed.”
“I feel inclined to try the sport myself,” said I.
“Ever do arything to that sort?”
“Never.”
“Then its like you'll hev more fun nor meat.”
“You think I can't kill a deer, eh?”
“You kin try, Freshwater.”
“And try I will,” said I; “though I am free to
acknowledge myself more familiar with a day-book
than with a rifle.”
“Do not go far,” said Varney, with some uneasiness;
might get lost.”
“Have no fear, my friend! I will keep the camp
in view, and return by sunset, at the very latest.”
“Let's see what you've got fur a shooter,” said Sam;
and he gave my rifle a careful inspection. Then
levelling it for an aim, and holding it with an iron
nerve, that had no tremor, he discharged it—adding,
as he brought the breech to the ground: “Ef she's fit
fur a old hunter to sw'ar by, thar's a hole plum centre
in yon yaller leaf.”
We hastened to the object which he had selected,
at the distance of some seventy paces, and found it
bored through the centre.
“An admirable shot!” exclaimed I.
“Not a bad shooting-iron,” said Sam, indifferently.
“With a good eye, and steady arm, she'll do herself
a heap of credit; and that's more'n kin be said of
every — gim-crack like her!” alluding to the
silver-plated mountings. “I say, Freshwater, what'll
you gin fur a shoot to this hyer old nigger, a hundred
paces off.”
“I have no desire to kill you,” said I. Botter burst
into a horse-laugh.
“I'd jest like to gamble on to it, you can't hit nary
tree to that thar distance.”
“What will you bet?” inquired I, supposing him
to be joking.
“Money?”
“Anything you please.”
“I'll try your narves on to five dollars.”
“That I can't hit a tree at a hundred paces?”
“Rayther.”
“Done!” said I: “select your mark, and prepare to
lose;” and hastily, and under some excitement, I proceeded
to reload my rifle.
Botter pointed out a tree, and said:
“Ef you graze the bark, old One-Eyed owes you
five; ef you don't”—
“Young Two-Eyed owes you ten!” rejoined I,
laughing; and bringing my rifle to my shoulder,
with a quick and somewhat careless aim, I fired.
“Nary once, chaw me!” rejoined Sam, fixing his
one eye upon me, with a most ludicrous expression.
“I knowed it—you city chaps hain't the narve you
reckon you has.”
I hurried to the tree, and felt deeply chagrined to
find no trace of the bullet, high nor low.
“Perhaps you would like to double that bet?” said
I, somewhat nervously.
“Rayther.”
I went back, loaded, and fired again, with the same
result.
“The piece does not carry true,” said I, greatly
mortified.
“Double to quits,” returned Botter, with a broad
grin, “that this hyer one-eyed old nigger bores a
dollar with that thar same shooter.”
“Done!”
I fastened a white flower, the size of a dollar, to the
distance, loaded and fired with great deliberation.
The flower fell. I hastened to pick it up, and, to my
utter astonishment, found the ball had driven the pin
through its centre.
“The de'il is in it!” said I, perplexed and crestfallen.
“I will give over hunting deer for to-day,
and practice at a mark.”
“Let me try my hand!” said Varney.
“Two to one agin you, Shadbones!” roared Botter,
fairly holding his sides.
“That I don't hit the tree at this distance?”
“Expect.”
“My horse against yours, Sam!” said Varney,
flushing with excitement.
“Them's 'em—let her went!”
Varney loaded, fired, and missed the tree.
He looked perfectly blank at the result, and I enjoyed
a laugh at his expense.
“If I were as superstitious as some I have known,”
he said, looking curiously at the old trapper, “I would
be willing to swear you had bewitched this rifle. I
never missed such a mark before, at such a distance,
in my life.”
“Thar's tricks to all trades 'cept ourn,” rejoined
Botter, throwing himself upon the ground, in a
paroxysm of laughter.
Never had I seen the old trapper so completely
convulsed with merriment: he rolled, yelled and
screamed, till our horses pricked up their ears, and
unearthly cachinnation, something between the screech
of a catamount and the bellow of a bull, alternating
upon the upper and lower keys.
“He has played us some trick, you may depend!”
said Varney. “I know I am not such a bad shot as
to miss a tree at a hundred yards, even though I
might not hit a dollar.”
“But what can be his trick?” inquired I: “we
loaded the rifles ourselves.”
Varney again levelled the piece, ran his eye along
the barrel, and exclaimed:
“I have it! I have it! he has altered the hind
sight: no wonder we could not hit the tree!”
“Let that thar l'arn ye to al'ays keep your eye
skinned, and look to your hind sights as well as target!—look
close around your nose as well as a mile
ahead!—them's the lessons we old mountain-men larn
'arly!” said Botter, gathering himself up, and wiping
the tears from his one eye. “Augh!” he continued,
drawing a long breath; “this hyer old nigger hain't
had sich a right down good old Kaintuck yell, sence
he barked around his mamma's float-sticks—chaw
me!”
“And do you claim the bets for your trick?” I
inquired.
“Nary once, Freshwater—I'll gin in on to them
thar. Shadbones wants his hoss, I expect, and you've
been decent fur a greeny; so we'll quit squar'—or ef
you rayther, we'll wet on't to Bent's.”
“I shall remember my first lesson,” said I—and
I did.
“Trust in God and keep your powder dry,” was a
remark, which the position of the speaker, together
with its peculiarity and force, rendered immortal;
and “look close around your nose, as well as a mile
ahead,” though homely phraseology, certainly contained
good advice for one who, like myself, was venturing
upon an unknown region of danger.
Having properly adjusted the hind sight of my rifle,
and reloaded it, I made another trial of marksmanship;
and found I not only hit the tree, but within three
inches of the point at which I had aimed; and this,
even the old trapper admitted, was remarkably good
shooting for one having as little practice as myself.
“But fur all that thar, Freshwater,” he continued,
“I wouldn't be afeard to gamble high on to it, that
you don't fotch nary deer; and what's more to the
pi'nt, that you couldn't plug a live one to thirty
yard!”
“Why so?”
“'Kase you're young, green, and hain't the narve.”
“A fig for your sage opinion!” said I, with a laugh.
“You might have made me believe something of this,
if I had not discovered the trick you just now played
me; but nothing, save repeated failure, can convince
me I cannot lodge a ball in a deer as well as a tree.”
“You kin try it,” grinned Sam.
“And try it I will, this very day—that is, if there
are any deer to be found.”
“Skase, but about,” returned Botter, “and it's
good three hour to sundown. Now see hyer, boy! ef
you fotch in ary part of a deer, that you've shot, this
hyer old nigger'll back water agin all he's said about
greenness, and stand a heavy wet to Bent's hisself.
Augh!”
“If I don't,” rejoined I, “I will give you leave to
laugh and drink at my expense, and to call up as
many friends as you like.”
“Be careful, my friend, not to lose sight of the
camp, in your eagerness to establish a reputation as a
hunter!” said Varney.
“Have no fear! I will take the best of care of
myself, in every particular,” was my confident reply.
I then proceeded to equip myself for a hunt on
foot; and in less than a quarter of an hour, I had left
the camp, secretly exulting in my anticipated triumph.
I have said that the country was partly open and
partly timbered—the ground rolling, with an appearance
similar to large swells of the ocean. The face of
the country was so much alike in every direction, that
I saw one might easily lose himself, unless proper
precautions were adopted; but I set off directly south,
resolved not to go beyond a certain point, from which
I could easily retrace my steps. I soon started some
prairie-chickens from the covert of the tall grass; but
as I was bent upon bringing in a deer, I did not waste
any ammunition upon them. Next I came upon some
animals resembling the hare; but for the same reason,
I did not molest them. Deer, in this region, were
I espied a group of four in the distance; and creeping
carefully along to the leeward, I soon had the satisfaction
of placing a wooded knoll between them and
myself, which enabled me to draw near them with
less caution, and without being scented or seen.
I had never fired at an animal of the size of a deer
in my life; and I now felt myself laboring under
more excitement than I had anticipated; much of
which, however, I attributed to my eager desire to
convince the old trapper that he had greatly underrated
my hunting qualities. On reaching the knoll,
or ridge, I made a cautious ascent, through tangled
brush and brambles, fearful lest each snap of a dry
stick or twig might alarm the wary game. At length
I reached the summit; and crawling carefully on my
hands and knees over a ledge of rocks, I parted some
intervening bushes, and, to my great delight, beheld
four sleek, beautiful deer, daintily cropping the green
herbage within fifty yards of me. I now became so
nervously excited, that my long rifle shook like an
aspen, as I slowly pushed the muzzle forward, preparatory
to a fatal aim. I had just got my nerves a
little quieted, and was in the act of glancing along the
barrel, with my breath suspended, when I heard a
loud, ominous rattle close to my side. I started with
a thrill of horror, and a single glance showed me an
enormous rattlesnake, partly coiled, with head erect,
forked tongue, and fiery eyes, within three feet of me.
To say that I sprung to my feet, and went down the
in the shortest possible time, is only to admit that the
instincts of nature acted for my preservation, without
calling upon reason, or any of the slow, operating
faculties.
It is no use to deny it—I was scared. I felt cold
chills run down my back, and my hair gather itself
on end; while my legs displayed a power of locomotion,
as they bore me through the valley below and
after the flying deer, which even my long familiarity
with them had previously failed to discover and place
to their credit. I will not say I ran; for to run, even
from a rattlesnake, would by some be considered
cowardly; but I will venture to assert, that, in,
Western parlance, “I did some pretty tall walking.”
Ere I reached the opposite slope, my rifle and hat
went off at the same instant—the one in front, the
other behind. As I stopped and stooped for my hat,
something whizzed over my head; and immediately
after, I heard the report of a rifle; while from a
thicket, distant some hundred and fifty or two hundred
yards, I saw a wreath of thin blue smoke float
lazily upward and disperse in the light breeze.
Here was another narrow escape from another
danger, and for the time being the rattlesnake was
driven from my mind. I had evidently been shot at
by a good marksman, and the stooping for my hat
had saved my life. But why had I been shot at? and
by whom? I was in a region of country thinly peopled
by Indians; but then they were known to be
to them by our Government. Had I been mistaken
for a deer? I glanced down at my green hunting
frock, and fringed buckskin trousers, and could fancy
no resemblance to that innocent quadruped, except in
the quickness with which I had lifted one foot after
the other from among the tall grass.
Suddenly, a horrible suspicion seized me. Wolfy
Jake, who was out hunting deer like myself, had probably
seen me, and sought to gratify his malignant
passions by a cold-blooded murder. I shuddered all
over as the thought flashed through my mind, and I
made all haste to bury myself in the brushwood of
the swell or ridge toward which I had shaped my
flight from my more magnanimous foe, and which
fortunately was within fifty yards of where I had
made my second escape from an awful death.
Being now fairly screened by a dense copse, I drew
a long, quavering breath of momentary relief, and
proceeded to reload my rifle with a trembling hand;
while my knees knocked together from a sort of nervous
weakness, and a cold, clammy perspiration
seemed to start from every pore. My rifle again
loaded, I felt my courage again return; and with the
reaction from an almost paralytic surprise and terror,
came a wicked indignation; and as my blood again
leaped through its natural channels, with a burning
sensation, I solemnly resolved, if I discovered Stericks
anywhere in the vicinity, to shoot him down as
I would a wild beast.
This was not a very Christian-like intention, I
know; and under less excitement, I should never
have so determined; but I was not then in a condition
to reason calmly on a matter involving crime. I
was beyond the limits of civilization, and in a country
where the strong arm, keen eye, and sure rifle must
stand me in place of law. My life had been sought;
I had the right of self-protection, by any and every
means; and the fact of his being in the vicinity, would
have then been sufficient proof to my mind, that he
alone was the deadly foe whom personal safety required
me to destroy.
Fortunately for my subsequent peace of mind, to
say nothing worse, I did not discover him. I crept
through the bushes to a point whence I could overlook
the covert from which the smoke had issued,
and also the adjacent country; but though I kept a
careful watch till the sun, large and red, went down
behind the western line of earth and sky, I saw no
human being. The gathering shades of night now
warned me that it was high time to set out upon my
return to camp; and looking carefully to the priming
of my rifle, and laying my course with my eye, I was
soon hastening through the tall grass of the valley
already mentioned. Avoiding Rattlesnake Ridge, as
I mentally christened the point of my first peril, I
kept along the hollow some half a mile, and then
turned off to the right, over what I supposed to be the
very undulations I had previously traversed.
So confident was I of pursuing the proper direction,
events of the last few hours, that the possibility of
missing my way did not occur to me till night had
fairly set in; when suddenly looking up and around,
a moment's reflection convinced me that I had already
passed over more ground than lay in a direct line between
the furthest point I had visited and the camp.
Instantly a glow of heat passed over me, a new alarm
thrilled through me, and I fairly shuddered at the
thought that perhaps I was lost.
| CHAPTER VI.
OUR FIRST CAMP. The border rover | |