The Boy Hunters

“No,” responded Basil. “Go you and François to sleep. Let me keep watch.”

“Brothers,” said François, “I am not a bit sleepy; let me be the sentry. I’ll keep ’em off.”

“No, no,” exclaimed Basil and Lucien, in a breath, “I – I.”

It was finally agreed that Basil should take the watch for a couple of hours or so – until he became sleepy – when he was to awake and be relieved by Lucien; who, in his turn, could arouse François. This being arranged, the two latter wrapped themselves in their blankets and lay down again, while Basil sat alone, now gazing into the fire, and then into the gloomy darkness beyond.

Both Lucien and François, notwithstanding the declaration of the latter, were soon snoring like a brace of tops. They had had an early awaking by the bear-scrape of the previous morning; besides, they had been at work all day, and were wearied. This they must have been, to have gone to sleep with such a discordant howling around them – enough to have kept an opium-eater awake. Basil was wearied as well as they; and he soon began to feel what a painful thing it is to keep awake when one is sleepy. The eyes of the wolves continued to glare upon him from all sides; but he did not dread them any more, than if they had been so many hares. There appeared to be a very large pack of them though. The odoriferous bear-meat had, no doubt, collected all there were for miles around – in addition to numbers that had been following the trail for days past. As Basil watched them, he saw they were growing bolder, and gradually approaching nearer. At length, some of them came upon the spot, where lay the bones of the bear at some distance out from the fire. These they attacked at once; and through the dim light Basil could see them rushing from all quarters to come in for a share. He could hear the bones cracking under their teeth, and could see them struggling and worrying the skeleton and each other in a moving mass. This soon ended. The bones were scraped clean in a twinkling; and the wolves now left them, and scattered over the ground as before.

“Come,” soliloquised Basil, “I must have more light; they may steal a march upon me;” and he rose up and threw several armfuls of wood upon the fire, which soon blazed up again, reflecting the yellow eyes of the wolves in dozens of pairs all around him. This helped to brighten Basil a little, and keep him awake; but he sat down again by the fire, and soon became drowsy as before. Every now and then he caught himself nodding; and, each time, as he shook himself awake, he noticed that the wolves had ventured nearer to the bear-meat. He could easily have shot any one of them, and thus drive them off for a time; but he did not wish either to waste his ammunition, or startle his companions.

As he sat cogitating how he would best keep awake, an idea came into his head, which caused him to leap to his feet, as if he intended to execute some purpose.

“I have it now,” said he to himself, placing his rifle against a tree. “I’ll get a good nap yet in spite of these filthy yelpers. Strange we didn’t think of the plan before.”

He took up a lasso, and, proceeding to the barbecue, which was close by, commenced laying all the pieces of bear-meat on one end of the rope. This did not occupy him long; and, when he had bundled all and looped them securely together, he flung the other end of the lasso over a high branch, until it hung down so that he could reach it. He now pulleyed up the meat – until it was ten feet or more from the ground – and then fastened his rope to a log.

“Now, gentlemen,” muttered he, fancifully addressing the wolves, “you may prowl about and howl till your throats are sore, but you don’t keep me five minutes longer from my rest – that you don’t.”

So saying, he laid himself down, and commenced wrapping himself in his blankets.

“Ha!” he continued, as he caught a glimpse of several of the animals running forward and looking upwards at the swinging meat; “Ha! Messieurs Loups, don’t you wish you may get it? Ha! ha! ha! Good night!”

So speaking and laughing, he stretched himself alongside his brothers, and in five minutes’ time was snoring as loudly as either of them.

But Basil, with all his craft, was not so cunning upon the present occasion as he thought himself – not half so cunning as the wolves, whom he believed he had outwitted. The latter, seeing that he had gone to sleep, boldly drew nearer and nearer, until scores of them covered the spot over which hung the meat. Here they ran about, tumbling over each other, and all looking upward. They remained silent, however, lest they might awake the sleepers. Some sat quietly on their hams with eyes fixed on the tempting morsel, but not making any effort to get at it, as they knew it was beyond their reach. These were, no doubt, the older and wiser ones. Others kept trying their prowess in lofty leaping; but, although the most active of them could get their noses within a few inches of the meat, it only tantalised them the more. One, however, who seemed the best jumper of the pack, at last succeeded in snatching a small piece that hung lower than the main bunch. He was immediately set upon as soon as he had touched the ground, and chased and worried by the rest, until he was glad to drop the morsel to save himself. His success, however, emboldened others to try; and they went on springing upward as before – but to no purpose.

A new idea, however, seemed now to have got into the heads of the older ones; they who up to this time had sat looking on. Several of these ran towards the log, where the lasso was tied; and, seizing the latter in their teeth, commenced gnawing it! It did not take them long to accomplish their purpose. In less than two minutes’ time, the heavy mass came down with a dead sound upon the shoulders of one of the pack, causing him to howl fearfully!

Marengo, who had been alert all this time, now growled louder than ever; and the combined noises awoke the three sleepers. Basil saw what it was; and, starting up, seized his rifle and ran forward, followed by François and Lucien.

All three dashed in among the wolves, firing their pieces as they ran, and then rushing on them with “clubbed” guns. The animals, of course, took to their heels, and scattered in every direction; but some of them, in their flight, did not fail to carry off choice pieces of the bear-meat. Two were killed by the rifle-bullets; and a third – which François had peppered with shot – was overtaken and worried to death by Marengo.

The meat was soon gathered up; and Basil, who though somewhat chagrined was still confident of his plan, once more looped it in the lasso, and pulleyed it up. This time, however, he tied the end of his rope to the high branch of a tree; and as the wolves are not tree-climbers, all felt certain that, cunning as these creatures are, they could not reach it thus secured.

After throwing more wood upon the fire, the three brothers again took to their blankets, expecting that nothing would occur to disturb them before the morning.

Chapter Twenty One.

The Circle of Fire

That expectation, however, was a vain one. Poor lads! they little thought what was before them. Their nerves were to be tried still farther, and by as severe a test as they had yet endured. The wolves howled fearfully around the camp, and their eyes still shone through the gloom. But this would not have kept the boys from sleeping, had their attention not been called to another sound – the voice of a far different creature. They heard it amidst the howlings of the wolves, and knew it at once, for it resembled not these. It was more like the squalling of an angry cat, but far louder, fiercer, and more terrible. It was the scream of the cougar!

I say that the young hunters recognised the voice of this animal at once – for they had heard it while hunting in the forests of Louisiana, although they had never been exposed to its attack. From ample testimony, however, they knew its power and fierce nature; and were, therefore, terrified by its scream – as men of strongest nerves had often been before them.

When its cry first reached their ears, it appeared feeble and distant – not louder than the mewing of a kitten. The animal was evidently far off in the forest. They knew, however, that it could soon traverse the ground that lay between it and their camp. They listened. A second scream sounded nearer. They sprang to their feet, and listened again. A third call appeared more distant. This, however, arose from a misconception on their part. They forgot that their ears were now farther from the ground.

They stood a moment gazing on each other with looks of terror and apprehension. What was to be done?

“Shall we mount our horses and fly?” asked Basil.

“We know not what way to go,” suggested Lucien. “We may ride right into its teeth!”

This was likely enough; for it is a singular fact that the scream of the cougar, like the roar of the lion, seems to come from any or every side. It is difficult to tell in what direction the animal is who utters it. Whether this illusion be produced by the terror of the listener is a question yet unsolved.

“What can we do?” said Basil. “Taking to a tree is of no use. These animals can climb like squirrels. What can we do?”

Lucien stood silent, as if considering.

“I have read,” said he, at length, “that the cougar will not cross fire. It is the case with most animals, although there are exceptions. Let us try that. Hush! Listen!”

All three remained silent. Again the cougar uttered his wild note, still far off.

“You hear,” continued Lucien; “he is distant yet. Perhaps he is not coming this way. It is best, however, to be prepared while we have time. Let us try the circle of fire!”

Both Basil and François understood what their brother meant. All three flung down their rifles and, rushing among the trees, collected dry wood in armfuls. Fortunately, this was in abundance near the spot. Some dead trees had fallen long ago; and their branches, breaking into pieces as they fell, covered the ground with numerous fragments just fit for firewood. In the large pile already blazing, there was no lack of kindling stuff; and in a few minutes a complete circle of fires, almost touching one another, burnt upon the ground.

The boys had lost no time, working as if for their lives. It was well they did so; for the voice of the cougar, that they had heard at intervals, each time growing louder, now echoed through the aisles of the forest, drowning all other sounds. Strange to say, the howling of the wolves suddenly ceased, and these creatures were no longer to be heard. But there were other sounds audible – the stamping and snorting of the terrified horses. The young hunters, up to this time, had not thought of the safety of these poor animals. It was now too late to relieve them – the cougar was within a hundred yards of the camp!

All three, along with Marengo, placed themselves within the circle of fire. Fortunately, there was no wind – not a breath – and the smoke rose vertically upward, leaving them a breathing space within. There they stood, guns in hand. Around them the fires blazed and crackled; but above the snapping of the knots, and the hiss of the spurting piping tree gas, could be heard the wild cry of the cougar! It now became evident on what side the animal was; for, as the young hunters peered through the smoke and blaze, they could distinguish the yellow cat-like body, moving to and fro under the hanging meat. The rounded head, the long hollow back, the smooth tawny skin, were not to be mistaken. As if to add to their terrible situation, the boys now saw that not one, but a pair, of these fearful creatures were upon the ground, moving backward and forward, passing each other, and looking eagerly up at the meat where it hung.

It now occurred to the hunters what an oversight they had made, in not cutting down the meat. Had they done so, the cougars would no doubt have devoured it, and moved off after satisfying their hunger. Alas! it was too late for such a thought.

For several minutes the animals continued to walk backward and forward, eagerly eyeing the tempting object above them. Several times they sprang up, as if to seize it; but their efforts fell far short, and they desisted. One of them now ran up the tree, to which the lasso was fastened. His claws could be heard rattling upon the bark as he sprang upward. He first climbed to the branch over which the bear-meat hung. This he shook with violence, looking downward, to see if the suspended object would fall. Disappointed, he left this after a time, and came down to the other branch, where the lasso was tied in a knot. Here he again seized the rope in his claws, and shook it with violence, but with a like result. Although he had the advantage of the wolves in being able to climb the tree, he had not their cunning, else he would soon have let the meat down, by cutting the rope with his teeth. This idea, however, belonged to a higher development of brain than his; and, after seizing the lasso several times, and shaking it as before, he returned to the ground to his mate, who had sat all the while watching his manoeuvres.

These efforts to reach the meat occupied nearly an hour. During all that time the boys stood within the circle of fire, in the most distressing situation. They were half-roasted by the heat, that had been all along increasing, as the black logs burned into red embers. They had made their circle too small; and they stood as in the midst of a fiery furnace!

The smoke had partially cleared away, and they could witness every movement of the cougars; but the terrible heat that oppressed them had almost conquered their fear of these animals; and little would now have tempted them to rush forth and battle with them. The perspiration ran from every pore, and their guns felt like bars of hot iron!

“I can stand it no longer,” cried Basil; “let us fire at them, rush out, and take our chance.”

“Patience, brother,” replied Lucien. “One moment longer. Perhaps they may go away.”

As Lucien spoke, the cougars, who had now given up the bear’s meat, stealthily approached the fire. They crept forward like cats, when stealing upon their prey. At intervals they uttered a strange sound, like the low cough of a person in consumption. They gave forth another sound, which fell equally strange upon the ears of the hunters. It resembled the purring of a cat when caressed; but was much louder, and, in the forest, now silent, could be heard at a considerable distance. It was too plainly heard by those who were near. Both uttered it, as if to encourage one another in their approach; and they kept crawling on, waving their tails as they advanced. When within a few feet of the fire, they stopped, and laid themselves almost flat along the ground – yet evidently prepared to spring forward at any moment. It was a terrible sight to look upon these fierce creatures as they lay. The light of the great fire made every part of them fearfully apparent. Their claws, their teeth, half uncovered, and even the bright irides of their shining eyes were seen distinctly. But they looked not half so fearful as at first. The young hunters now contemplated them from a different point of view. They were suffering where they stood, so fearfully, that there seemed no danger beyond that hot circle of fire – not even from the claws of a cougar!

“I shall stand it no longer,” cried Basil. “We’ll be roasted outright. You, brothers, take that one, I’ll aim at this – so – now – fear not – fire!”

As Basil ceased speaking, the three cracks sounded almost together; and, as soon as they had fired, all three leaped out of the blazing cordon. Whether Lucien and François had missed their aim was not known until afterwards; but Basil had not missed his. He had wounded the cougar; and scarcely had the young hunters got clear of the fiery circle, when the infuriated animal sprang into it, and was seen, now upon its feet, and now rolling over the ground in the throes of death. Marengo attacked it; but both got among the red cinders, and the dog was fain to make his escape out again. The cougar, left to itself, soon ceased its struggles, and lay upon the ground, to all appearance, dead.

But what of the other?

As all three stood listening, the snorting and stamping of horses fell upon their ears, and above all was heard the squealing of the mule Jeanette! This lasted for a few minutes, and at length all was silent as before.

“Poor Jeanette!” thought they. “The other has made a meal of her. Well – we must do without her, that’s all.”

They kept watch until daybreak, still fearful that the cougar might come back for its mate. The rain had now begun to fall, and poured down in torrents, drowning out their fires. They did not attempt to rekindle them; but stood, with their blankets around their shoulders, sheltering themselves as they best could under the trees.

When the daylight came, what was their surprise as well as joy to see Jeanette quietly browsing at the end of her trail-rope, and close by her the body of the cougar lying dead upon the ground! It had been wounded by the shots; but that, as they soon ascertained, was not the cause of its death, for its body was crushed and its ribs broken! For some time they could not understand this. At length, however, it was explained to them. The situation in which the animal was found enabled them to clear up the mystery. It was lying by the foot of a large tree, against which, no doubt, it had got the squeeze that had killed it. While retreating it had sprung upon Jeanette; and the latter, in her endeavours to escape, had in the darkness rushed violently against the tree, crushing the cougar, and killing it instantly!

The fierce brute had left the trace of its claws upon Jeanette’s back and withers; and a deep gash under her throat showed where its teeth had been buried. It was fortunate for the mule she had rushed against the tree, else the cougar would have held on until he had drunk the life-blood from her veins – as this is the mode by which these animals put their prey to death.

It was now morning, but the young hunters having been awake nearly all the night, were weary and could have gone to rest. This, however, they did not think prudent. They believed they had got themselves into a part of the forest where there were many dangerous creatures, and they came to the determination to shift their camp, and travel as far from the spot as possible before night. The truth is, they were upon a timbered stream – an affluent of the Trinity river; and as the latter was at this season overflowed, all the wild animals – bears, cougars, wolves, lynxes, and javalies – had been driven out of the low bottoms, and were roaming through the adjacent woods, more hungry and fierce than they commonly are.

Having saddled their horses, and packed Jeanette with their robes, blankets, and meat, our adventurers again took the route westward. After proceeding a few miles they issued from the woods, and struck out into the open prairie.

Chapter Twenty Two.

The Lone Mound

Their route led them through one of those lovely landscapes which are met with only in this southern region —a flower-prairie. They travelled in the midst of flowers. Flowers were before them, behind, and on every side. Their shining corollas covered the prairie as far as the eye could see. There were golden sunflowers (helianthi), and red malvas, euphorbias, and purple lupins. There were the rose-coloured blossoms of the wild althea, and the brilliant orange of Californian poppies – glancing among the green leaves like so many balls of fire – while lower upon the surface grew the humble violas, sparkling like azure gems.

The glorious sun was shining over all; and the late rain that had washed them seemed to have added to the fragrance and brilliancy. Millions of butterflies flew over them, or rested in their soft cups, not less brilliant than the flowers themselves. Some of these were of vast dimensions, their downy wings speckled and striped with varied and gorgeous tints. There were other insects of gay colours and glancing wings. The giant spider-fly flew around, now poised on whirring wing, and now darting off like a thread of lightning to some other part of the boundless garden. There were bees, too; and bee-birds humming from flower to flower, and robbing their rich nectaries. Now and then partridges and ruffed grouse whirred up before the horses; and François succeeded in shooting a brace of the latter, and hanging them behind his saddle.

Through these great flower-beds our travellers rode on, crushing many a beautiful corolla under their horses’ hoofs. Sometimes the flowers grew upon tall stalks that stood thickly together, and reached up to the shoulders of the horses, completely hiding them from the view of one at a distance. Sometimes the travellers passed through beds of helianthi alone – whose large heads, brushing against their thighs, covered them with yellow pollen-dust.

It was, altogether, a rare and beautiful landscape; and the young hunters would have enjoyed it much, had they not been suffering from weariness and want of sleep. The fragrance of the flowers seemed at first to refresh them; but after a while they became sensible of a narcotic influence which it exercised over them, as they felt more sleepy than ever. They would have encamped among them, but there was no water; and without water they could not remain. There was no grass, either, for their animals; as, strange to say, upon these flower-prairies grass is seldom met with. The flower-stalks usurp the soil, and no turf is ever found about their roots. The travellers, therefore, were compelled to ride on, until they should reach some spot having grass and water – two of the necessary requisites of a “night-camp.”

After proceeding about ten miles the flowers began to appear more thinly scattered over the surface, and at length declined into the grass prairie. Two or three miles farther brought our adventurers to a small “spring branch” that ran through the open plain, with no timber upon its banks, except a few willows. Here they were glad to halt for the night, and they dismounted, and staked their animals upon the tempting sward.

All three were weary, and could have slept; but they were hungry as well, and must first eat – so they set about preparing supper. The willows were green, and would not burn very well; but by dint of perseverance they managed to make a fire. François’ grouse were plunged into the kettle. These, seasoned with wild onions, nasturtium, and prairie-turnips – which Lucien had gathered along the route, – made a dish that was far from unpalatable. The stock of bear-meat was not touched – with the exception of a small piece, which, with the heads and other refuse parts of the grouse, formed the supper of Marengo. As soon as they had finished eating, the hunters spread their buffalo-robes upon the grass; and, drawing their blankets over them, went off into a sound sleep.

This night they were not disturbed. When awake they could hear the howling of wolves upon the distant prairie, and near their camp. But they were used to this serenading music, and did not regard it. All three slept soundly throughout the live-long night.

They were awake by grey dawn, and felt quite refreshed. They watered their horses, and prepared their breakfast of jerked bear-meat. This is not bad eating at any time; but to appetites like theirs it was a luxury indeed; and they broke their fast cleverly enough – eating nearly a pound a-piece. They all felt quite merry and jocund. Marengo was merry, though the claws of the cougar had scored his countenance sadly. Jeanette, too, frisked about, kicking at the flies as she fed. Basil had given her shanks a fresh touch of the bear’s grease; and the scars which the cougar had made were likely to cicatrise speedily. They remained all next day by that sweet spring, and enjoyed another night of undisturbed rest. On the second morning they continued their journey, and in a few days reached the “Cross Timbers,” – those celebrated groves that have so long puzzled the speculations of the curious naturalist. Our travellers did not remain long by them – as they saw no signs of the buffalo – but kept still farther to the west, crossing the head-waters of numerous streams that run into the river Brazos.

About the third day, after leaving the Cross Timbers, they encamped on one of these streams – a very small one – that meandered through the prairie, without any timber upon its banks. But our travellers did not feel the want of this, as they could make their fire out of an article – the sight of which had been gladdening their eyes during the whole of that day’s journey. It was the bois de vache, or buffalo “chips,” as it is called by the trappers; and they knew that where this was found, the buffaloes themselves would not be far off. They had now got within the range of these animals; and might expect to fall in with them at any moment.