The Buffalo Runners, Robert Michael Ballantyne [best fiction novels of all time .txt] 📗

Isn't that somethin' like them on the top o' the far bluff yonder? A fellow like you, wi' sharp sailor-eyes, ought to be able to make them out."

"You forget, lad, that I ain't a buffalo runner, an' don't know the cut o' the brutes' jibs yet. It does look like somethin'. Come, we'll go an' see." Putting their horses to the gallop, the two curiously matched friends, taking advantage of every knoll and hollow, succeeded in getting sufficiently near to perceive that a small herd was grazing quietly in a grassy bottom between two prairie waves. They halted at once for consultation.

"Now, then, Archie," said the sailor, examining the priming of his gun, "here we are at last, a-goin' to begin a pitched battle. There's this to be said for us, that neither you nor me knows rightly how to go to work, both on us havin' up to this time bin trained, so to speak, on hearsay. But what o' that? In the language o' the immortial Nelson, `England expec's every man to do his dooty.' Now it seems to me my dooty on the present occasion is to lay myself alongside of a buffalo an' blaze away! Isn't that the order o' battle?"

"Yes. But don't go for a bull, and don't go too close for fear he turns sharp round an' catches you on his horns. You know the bulls are apt to do that sometimes."

"Trust me, lad, I'll keep clear o' the bulls."

"And you understand how to re-load?" asked the boy.

"O yes, all right. Dan put me thro' the gunnery practice on the way out, an' I went through it creditably. Only a slight hitch now and then. Two or three balls in the mouth ready to spit into the gun--"

"Not all at once, though, Jenkins."

"In course not, lad: one at a time: no ramming; hit the butt on the saddle; blaze away; one down, another come on--eh?"

"That's it," said Archie, eager for the fray. "How I wish Dan had let me have a gun!"

"Safer not, lad. An' keep well in rear, for I may be apt to fire wide in the heat of action."

With this final caution, the mariner put his gun on full cock, shook the reins, and trotted quietly forward until he saw that the buffalo had observed him. Then, as he afterwards expressed it, he "clapped on all sail-stuns'ls alow and aloft, and sky-scrapers--and went into action like a true blue British tar, with little Archie Sinclair full sail astern."

He did not, however, come out of action with as much _eclat_ as he went into it, but justice obliges us to admit that he came out victorious.

We cannot do better than give his own description of that action as related beside the camp-fire that night, to a circle of admiring friends.

"Well, you must know," he began, after finishing his supper and lighting his pipe, "that long-legged frigate o' mine that Dan calls a chestnut-- though a cocoanut would be more like the thing, if you take size into account--he's as keen for the chase as a small boy arter a butterfly, an' before I could say `Jack Robinson,' a'most, he had me into the middle o' the herd an' alongside o' the big bull. Any one could tell it was him, in spite o' the dust we kicked up, by reason o' the side-glance o' his wicked little eye, his big hairy fore'id, an' his tail stickin' out stiff like a crook'd spankerboom.

"In course I was not a-goin' to fire into him, so I gave the frigate a dig wi' my heels--tho' I'd got no irons on 'em--an' tried to shove up alongside of a fat young cow as was skylarkin' on ahead. As we went past the bull he made a vicious dab wi' his horn, and caught the frigate on her flank--right abaft the mizzen chains, like. Whew! you should ha' seen what a sheer she made right away to starboard! If it hadn't bin that I was on the look-out, I'd ha' bin slap overboard that time, but I see'd the squall comin', an', seizin' my brute's mane, held on like a monkey wi' hand an' leg.

"Well, before I knew where I was, the cocoan--I mean the chestnut, had me alongside the cow. I stuck the muzzle a'most into her ribs, and let drive. Down she went by the head, fairly scuttled, an' I could hear young Archie givin' a wild cheer astern."

"`That's the way to go it, Jenkins!' he yelled. `Load again.'

"But it was easier said than done, I can tell you. You see, I've bin brought up to cartridges all my life, an' the change to pullin' a stopper out o' a horn wi' your teeth, pourin' the powder into your left hand, wi' the gun under your left arm, an' the pitchin' o' the frigate, like as if it was in a cross sea, was raither perplexin'. Hows'ever, it had to be done, for I was alongside of another cow in a jiffy. I nigh knocked out two o' my front teeth in tryin' to shove the stopper in my mouth. Then, when I was pourin' the powder into my hand, I as near as could be let fall the gun, which caused me to give a sort of gasp of anxiety, when two o' the three bullets dropped out o' my mouth, but I held on to the third wi' my teeth. Just then a puff o' wind blew the powder out o' my hand into the buffalo's eyes, causin' her to bellow like a fog-horn, an' obleegin' me to pour out another charge. I did it hastily, as you may well believe, an' about three times what I wanted came out. Hows'ever, I lost a deal of it in pourin' it into the gun; then I spat the ball in, gettin' another nasty rap on the teeth as I did so, but I'd bit the ball so that it stuck half-way down.

"It was no time to think o' trifles. I gave the butt an extra bang on the pommel to send the ball home, shoved the muzzle right in among the hair an' pulled the trigger. There was a bang that sounded to me as if the ship's magazine had blown up. It was followed by a constellation o' fire-works and--Archie Sinclair must tell you what happened arter that, for I misremember the whole on it. The fire-works closed the scene to me."

Archie, nothing loath, and with glistening eyes, took up the narrative at this point, while the hero of the hour rekindled his pipe.

"The fact is," he said, "the gun had burst--was blown to atoms; not a bit o' the barrel left, and a great lump o' the stock struck Jenkins on the head, stunned him, and tumbled him off his horse."

"That was the magazine explosion and fire-works," explained Jenkins.

"But the queer thing was," continued Archie, "that the buffalo fell dead, and, on examining it, we found that a bit o' the barrel had been driven right into its brain."

"Ay, boy, but it was queerer still that none o' the pieces struck me or my horse 'cept that bit o' the stock. An' I'm none the worse, barrin' this lump on the head, that only serves to cock my hat a little more to one side than seems becomin' to a sober-minded man."

"We were sorry to be able to bring away so little o' the meat," said Archie, with the gravity of an old hunter; "but, you see, it was too late to send a cart for it after we got back."

"Never mind," said Dan Davidson, when the narrative was brought to a close, "you have done very well for a beginning."

"Moreover," added Fergus, "it iss a goot feast the wolves will be havin' on the plains this night, an' so, Archie, I'll be wishin' ye better luck next time."


CHAPTER NINETEEN.


BRIGHT HOPES TERMINATE IN FURIOUS WAR.

Turning once again to the colony at Red River, we introduce the reader to the Scotch settlers in the autumn of the year--at a time when there was some appearance of the commencement of a season of prosperity, after all the troubles that had befallen and surrounded, and well-nigh overwhelmed them in time past.

The Davidson and McKay families had re-established themselves on their farms, rebuilt their houses and planted their fields, and splendid crops of all kinds were now flourishing, ready for spade and sickle.

The soil was found to be excellent. In after years, forty-fold was no uncommon return. In one case, for a bushel of barley sown, fifty-six bushels were reaped; and from a bushel of seed potatoes were obtained one hundred and forty-five bushels! Industry, however, had not at that time been rewarded with such encouraging results, but there was sufficient to indicate cheering prospects in the near future, and to gladden the hearts of the pioneer settlers.

As a good number of these had, under the depressing influence of disappointment and failure in the past, neglected to sow extensively, not a few families were forced again to winter at Pembina, and draw their supplies from the chase to avoid consuming all the seed which alone ensured them against famine. Among these were the Swiss families, most of whom, being watch and clock makers, pastry-cooks, mechanics and musicians, were not well adapted for agricultural pursuits. Perhaps they were as ill-adapted for the chase, but seed takes time to sow and grow, whereas animals need no prolonged nursing--at least from man--and are quickly killed if one can shoot.

The young leader of the Switzers, however, Andre Morel, soon left his party at Pembina under the care of his lieutenant, and returned to Red River Settlement, bent on mastering the details of husbandry, so as to be able afterwards to direct the energies of his compatriots into a more profitable occupation than the chase.

For this purpose, he sought and obtained employment with the Davidsons in the new and enlarged edition of Prairie Cottage. His sister, Elise, was engaged by old McKay to act as companion and assistant to his daughter Elspie. Both the curly-haired Andre and the fair, blue-eyed Elise, proved to be invaluable acquisitions in the households in which they had found a home, for both were lively, intelligent companions, hard workers at whatever they undertook, and were possessed of sweet melodious voices. Andre also performed on the violin, an instrument which has played a prominent part in the wild Nor'-West ever since the white-man set down his foot there.

"What do you think, Elspie, of my brother's plan, of taking the farm just below this one, after he has had enough experience to be able to work it himself?" asked Elise.

"It will be very nice to have him settled so near us. Do you think he will take the whole of it?"

"I think so. You see, the terms on which the Earl has granted the land are so easy, and the supplies of goods, oatmeal, clothing, and farm implements sent us so generous, that Andre finds he will have money enough to enable him to start. Then, that strong, good-natured seaman, Fred Jenkins, has actually agreed to serve as a man on the farm for a whole year for nothing, except, of course,