 | A Fight on the Prairie. Wild scenes on the frontiers, or, Heroes of the West |  |
11. A Fight on the Prairie.
“It is a wild, glorious life for those who love the sports
of the chase—the life of the mounted hunter on the great
prairies of the Far West!” enthusiastically exclaimed a
friend of mine, who had passed a portion of his life beyond
what was then known as the borders of civilization.
“But then it has its perils and unpleasant passages,
which sometimes make one wish himself safely at home!”
I ventured to reply.
“True, we have our storms as well as sunshine,” he
rejoined; “but all joy has its sorrow, all good has its evil,
all sweet has its bitter, else perhaps the first would pall.
Life is made up of variety and contrast; and so a man has
more pleasure than pain, he is entitled, as things go in
this world, to lay claim to happiness. Speaking of perils,
though, by-the-by, and unpleasant passages, suppose I give
you a rather striking incident in my chequered career?”
“By all means,” said I; “the very favor I would have
asked—nothing could please me better.”
“Well, then, as I am one who always likes to come to
jump at once into the very heart of my story?”
“All right—proceed.”
“Well, then,” pursued my friend—who, by the way, was
a finely-built, athletic fellow, some thirty years of age, and
one of the best horsemen I ever saw—“the incident I refer
to, occurred during a buffalo hunt on what is known as the
great prairies, up near the head waters of the Arkansas.
A party of eight of us had opened our day's sport upon a
small herd of buffaloes, and had begun the slaughter in the
regular Western fashion—that is to say, by each singling
out his animal, dashing up alongside on his fiery steed,
discharging his holster pistols into the most vital part, and
so following up the cow or bull to its final fall and death,
and then immediately skinning it, taking a few select
pieces for our camp fare, rolling up the hide, strapping it
to the back of the saddle, mounting our horse, and dashing
on again as before, leaving the remainder of the carcass to
the cowardly coyotes, or small prairie wolves, which, with
an instinct like that of dogs, seldom failed to follow in our
steps,—we were thus engaged, I say, and I had become
separated from all of my companions save one—whose
animal, alike branching off from the herd, had taken the
same direction as mine—when suddenly we were both
startled by the cry of `Indians!' and looking behind us, we
saw, far away, some eight or ten mounted savages, bearing
our friends in the distance, who were also scattered and
flying in every direction.
“ `By heavens! here is something more than fun!' cried
young Summerfield, my companion, in alarm, instantly
turning off from his wounded buffalo, and dashing up
alongside of me. `What shall we do, Leland—eh?'
“ `Run or fight, I hardly know which!' said I, drawing
up my horse for a momentary consideration, and sweeping
the prairie with my eye.
“ `Let it be a run, by all means!' he returned, in an
eager, excited tone; `it is our only chance.'
“ `And what chance have we then?' said I, thoughtfully.
`These savages are doubtless better mounted than
we, and will soon run us down; and it will only be fight
or death at last—perhaps both. Doubtless if we were to
dismount, make a kind of breastwork of our horses, and
stand firm, the savages, after a few circles round us, a few
grand flourishes, and a fascinating display of their equestrian
skill, would leave us to ourselves—especially if, with
a careful aim, we should happen to unhorse one or two of
the most daring. Come! what do you say? We have
our rifles already loaded; and we shall have time to load
our pistols also before they get up; and the latter will
serve us even better than the former should it come to a
close encounter.'
“ `I think we can escape by flight, Leland,' returned
Summerfield, in a nervous, agitated tone; `and flight is
my choice. But whatever we do, we must do quickly; for
see! they are coming up furiously; and if we stand here
three minutes longer, it will be too late to choose—there
will be no alternative. If these were all, I would remain
and abide the consequences; but if we permit ourselves to
be surrounded, there is no knowing what moment the
others yonder may join this party; and even you, sanguine
as you are, cannot hope to long withstand such
odds.'
“This last remark struck me with force; it would be
the height of folly to think of holding out against a larger
party than the one in chase; by flight we should probably
draw them off from their companions, and thus have them
to themselves, even if it came to a fight at last; and so I
decided for flight.
“Our conversation had been very rapid, and our halt
had not extended beyond a minute, during which time I
had constantly employed myself in sweeping the broad,
level plain with my eyes, and considering the chances of a
successful run.
“Far, far as my sight could reach, in every direction
save one, the blue horizon shut down to the level earth—
the exception being a black point in the distance, not
unlike a small cloud, which I believed to be a wooded
chain, thrown forward like the vanguard of an army.
“Over this plain, less than half a mile distant, but in a
direction opposite to the black point in question, our
mounted foes were swiftly advancing, yelling like demons;
while away to the right, with horses and buffaloes mingled
in strange confusion, our scattered friends were flying in
terror, each hotly pursued by a small band of mounted
savages. It was indeed a moment of peril, and a scene
to make the hair rise with excitement, and the blood to
course swiftly through the veins.
“ `On!” I shouted—`to yonder distant wood! Our
lives may depend upon our reaching that before our enemies.'
“And instantly setting our horses' heads in the proper
direction, we buried our rowels in their flanks, and bounded
forward like lightning, the Indians yelling even more furiously
as they witnessed the result of our determination,
and pressing even more eagerly forward in pursuit.
“Could we reach the point at which we aimed in
advance of our pursuers? It was a long distance—many
a long league; but then our horses were comparatively
fresh; and though not, perhaps, all things being equal,
of the same speed and bottom as those of our foes,
yet sufficiently so, with the start we had, to give us
hope.
“ `At all events,' said I, `we can shoot as quick, and as
far, and as certain as the best of them.'
“ `But not so many times,—for they outnumber us four
to one!' returned my companion, who seemed more alarmed
than it pleased me to perceive.
“ `But once for each mark will do,' I rejoined; `and if
we find them gaining on us, it must be tried. These
savages are a cowardly pack, whenever they see certain
death before them; and my word for it, if we can draw
them away from the main body, and send a couple to their
master, the rest will leave us to ourselves. Meantime let
us load our pistols, and be prepared to take advantage of
all the chances.'
“Accordingly, casting our bridle-reins over the high
pommels of our saddles, we proceeded to put all our
weapons in order, still spurring forward and keeping an
eye to our enemies, who were pressing rapidly on, almost
in a body, and, as I fancied, gaining on us slightly.
“We each had a brace of holster pistols, which would
carry a large ball for the distance of thirty or forty yards,
with the trueness and almost the force of a rifle; and
having loaded these, reprimed our rifles, loosened our
knives, and thus seen every thing in order, and well disposed
for action, we somewhat quietly settled down, and
gave our whole attention to the race.
“On, on, we flew! our gallant animals straining every
take part in our hopes and our fears; and on came our
pursuers, at the very top of their speed, eager for our
destruction, and now and then causing us to thrill
strangely with their fierce, demoniacal yells.
“On, on, we sped—minute after minute—mile after
mile; the dark spot, the haven of our hopes, rising a little
to our view, but still seeming interminably distant; and
our savage pursuers gaining on us perceptibly, and seeming
to yell more triumphantly as they grew more certain
of securing their victims.
“ `Oh, my God! we are lost, Leland!' cried poor Summerfield,
looking around in horror. `Already the savages
have shortened the distance one-half! and they will certainly
be upon us before we can reach yonder wood, or
even bring it fairly into view. See! Leland, see! our
poor horses are blowing and foaming even now—while
those of our blood-thirsty pursuers seem almost as fresh as
when we started. We can do no more; and an hour, or
even half an hour, will bring them up to us. Ha! those
yells again! those horrid yells! they know we are at their
mercy now! And such a death! shot down—butchered in
the very prime of manhood—our mutilated bodies left to
the ravenous wolves—our fates for ever unknown to our
friends—oh, God! it is terrible! terrible!'
“ `But why talk or think of dying, with so many chances
by what I considered the paltry fears of my companion.
`Cowards are ever dying—the brave man falls but
once.'
“ `Oh, Leland,' replied Summerfield, turning upon me
the most wretched, ghastly, wo-be-gone countenance I ever
beheld—`do not blame me for what I cannot help! A
horrible presentiment is on me, that my hour is at hand;
and I have that to live for which makes life desirable; and
my wandering thoughts have taken in the misery my friends
will suffer when they shall discover that time brings not the
wanderer back.'
“ `Pshaw!' returned I, sharply, though not a little
touched by his singular appearance and the peculiar
melancholy of his tone; `let us think of any thing now
rather than the sentiment of a love-sick swain or a school-girl!
With such fancies in your head, the savages will
kill you, sure enough; but if you will only be the man I
have always taken you for, you will live to go back and
tell your own story.'
“ `How can we escape—what can we do?' he dejectedly
inquired.
“ `Fight!' said I—`just what I intended to do in the
first place. Our foes are gaining on us, as you say; we
cannot outrun them; there is no alternative. But we have
drawn them too far from the main body for them to get
determination, the day may be our own.'
“ `Yours it may be, Leland—but not mine!' he rejoined;
`for I know I shall not survive. However, do as you
think best, and I will stand by you while I do live.'
“ `See!' said I; `there are two of our pursuers already
some rods in advance of the others. Let us slack up
gradually—so that they may suppose they are overtaking
us from our exhaustion—and, when near enough to make
our aim sure, wheel suddenly and try our marksmenship.'
“ `I am ready,' replied my companion, with a melancholy
shake of his head.
“We continued on about a mile further, by which time
the foremost of our pursuers were yelling fiercely within
the distance of a hundred yards.
“ `Now is our time!' cried I. `Rifles ready!—halt!—
wheel!—fire!'
As the words were uttered, each was acted upon with
promptness and decision, and at the last our pieces spoke
together.
“We were both good marksmen, and had long practised
the art of shooting on horseback, even when under
full headway; so that the result astonished us less, probably,
than it did the savages; who, not aware of our intentions,
were not prepared for so sudden a shot. The one
I had selected for my mark immediately fell from his beast,
being not so sure in his aim, merely lodged his ball in the
brain of the other's horse. The animal dropped suddenly,
and would probably have have seriously injured any rider
less expert than his own; but the agile savage cleared his
back before he touched the ground, and immediately ran
howling back to his advancing comrades.
“Fearfully wild and savage were the yells with which
the Indians greeted our sudden display of heroism; and
quickly spreading out on either side, they began to circle
round us—bending over, keeping their persons concealed
behind their horses, and letting fly their arrows from under
the necks of their rushing animals.
“I now saw there would be little chance for us, if we
dismounted, as we could not guard ourselves on all sides;
and so tclling Summerfield to load up as quick as possible,
and then take a better sight than before, I proceded to do
the same—we keeping our enemies at a distance, meanwhile,
by a display of our pistols—and occasionally dodging
our heads as an arrow whistled closer than usual past our ears.
“Just as we had succeeded in getting our rifles loaded,
primed, and brought to our shoulders, ready for the first
certain mark that should offer, one daring fellow came
swooping round on the side of my companion. The next
moment there was a flash, a crack, and the twang of a bow;
and both marksmen fell; the Indian howling and rolling
arrow drove through his brain between his eyes.
“I saw at once that he was killed—that his presentiment
had proved too real—that I could no longer be of any service
to him—and instantly I resolved to escape upon the
horse of the Indian I had shot, which was still running at
large between me and my foes.
“I had reserved my fire, and the savages knew it; and,
warned by what had occurred, they took care to give me a
wide berth—though still circling round, and sending their
arrows from a distance; and suddenly spurring my horse
forward, my foes retreating as I advanced, I was soon by
the side of the animal I sought. Grasping his halter, I
threw myself upon his back; and the next moment I was
dashing swiftly across the plain—too swiftly for pursuit—
to the utter chagrin of my enemies, who could only impotently
howl forth their rage at the loss of their best racer
and the foe they had counted as a victim. When fairly
clear of them, I turned—gave a loud yell of triumph—fired
my rifle in defiance—and then sped onward like the wind.
“At nightfall I reach Fort Bent, where I found two of
my companions, who reported all the rest killed. But the
next day, one by one, the others dropped in—all save poor
Summerfield—the only victim of that day's chase—to
whose memory we all sadly paid the tribute due to a companion
and a friend.”
| A Fight on the Prairie. Wild scenes on the frontiers, or, Heroes of the West | |