Ellis Edward Sylvester
Bill Biddon, Trapper: or, Life in the Northwest

The tribe was driven to no such extremity as this while I was with them, and I saw no want myself. Jim was one of their best hunters and he supplied his own lodge before that of others. Yet, there were others who were not so fortunate, and who were often compelled to endure the pangs of hunger for days at a time. When food was secured, they gorged themselves nearly to bursting, and were the happiest of mortals, until the wants of nature again made themselves felt.

I could write far more of my experience with this tribe of Indians; but I feel it would be hardly in place here, as there are other characters in this narrative who must claim notice. My aim has been only to dwell long enough upon particulars, for an understanding of the events that follow. During my captivity, several things occurred to make me suspect that the mysterious captive referred to was in this village the whole time, and I was satisfied that the Indian Jim knew more of Nat than he would impart to me. These imaginings filled me with moody misgivings, and I made a resolve that as soon as spring came I would make my escape; and if I could learn nothing of the two beings whose fate was unknown to me, depart for the States. The life I was leading was a wearisome, monotonous one, and in time would become unbearable. Spring was but a month or two distant, and in its approach I placed my fondest hopes; but it was doomed to open an experience in my life of which I little dreamed.

CHAPTER IX
THE BUFFALO HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

During my captivity among the Indians, as stated in the last chapter, there was considerable suffering on account of the scarcity of food. The country to the north of Nebraska is the paradise of all species of game in the summer months, but during the winter the large animals proceed to the southward, and the deep snows prevent the capture of the smaller ones, except by means of traps. Spring, therefore, was looked forward to with eager expectation, as the harbinger of enjoyment and the season of the chase.

And it came at last. First, the sun grew hotter and blazed more fiercely; the snow became damp and cloggy, and the dripping of water could be heard through the day and night. Snow-shoe traveling was now nearly impossible, as long as the thaw continued. Huge streams of melted snow poured into the rivers all along the banks, and the ice became weaker and weaker each moment, till, at last, with a terrific crashing and thundering, the whole mass started, and, a week after, the clear, blue running water only was seen. The thaw continued, until at last all the snow had disappeared, and with feelings of indescribable joy, we once more saw the face of the earth. Vegetation now commenced with surprising growth, and, in an almost incredible short space of time, bright, radiant, glorious spring held indisputed reign. Indians were departing and arriving every day with loads of fish, wild fowl, and game, and the village was a scene of unbridled feasting for many a day.

One forenoon, a savage, who had been absent a day or two, announced that a herd of buffaloes were quietly browsing a few miles to the southward. This produced violent commotion throughout the village, and preparations were at once made for the grand hunt. Some twenty or thirty splendid Indian ponies were mounted by as many warriors, and, to my inexpressible delight, Jim informed me that I should accompany them. A small, high-spirited animal was given me as my charger. He was of a dark color, and his dappled haunches glistened in the sun like polished ebony.

About noon we sallied forth from the village, and struck a southward direction, restraining our animals to a walk, in order to preserve their wind for the severe test at hand. While riding along by the side of Jim, the thought of escape – which had not been absent from me for the last six months – came with double force. I was now mounted upon a fleet, long-winded animal, who could hold his own with any horse bestrode by the Indians, and what was to prevent my escape? In the bewilderment and excitement of the chase, I might wander miles away, and be gone many hours, without exciting suspicion. My captors, I suppose, had no thoughts of my attempting a flight, as I had permitted so many opportunities to pass, and I felt there would be no suspicious eyes watching my motions. The prairie stretched hundreds of miles to the southward, and it seemed my animal longed to bound away upon it. At any rate, I felt the time had come, and resolved that I should never return to the Indian village a captive.

An hour or so after, we came in sight of the drove, cropping the new grass of the prairie. So numerous were they, that, as we looked over them, it was impossible to see their extent. Far away, until they touched the horizon, the ocean of dark, swarming bodies could be seen.

Our animals now partook of the excitement of their masters. Arching their necks, they scented the prey afar, and it was nearly impossible to [Pg 177][Pg 178][Pg 179]restrain their impatience. They snorted, and plunged, champed their bits, and shook their heads, and seemed determined to rush forward despite all restraint.

We continued stealthily approaching in a body, preserving strict silence, in order not to alarm the game. In this way, we came within a hundred yards, when a bull raised his alarmed gaze at us, and, giving a loud snort, heaved his huge body round, and plunged madly into the herd. All took the alarm, and went thundering away, making the earth tremble with their multitudinous tread.

It was now wholly useless to undertake to check our animals longer, and, setting up a wild yell, the Indians scattered and plunged after them. The buffalo is not a runner, and, owing to the shortness of his fore-legs, appears to roll in his gait. The Indians’ horses soon bring their riders alongside the bisons, and as soon as the shot is given, they shy off to avoid the infuriated animal’s horns. Before I was prepared for it, my animal was abreast of a buffalo, and waiting for my shot. Here I committed a blunder common to all beginners of the hunt. I fired while holding the reins in my hands. The consequence was, my bullet struck the animal somewhere about the head, got entangled in his mane, where it would drop out in a day or two. My horse immediately veered to one side, and allowed the buffalo to run until I could reload. I now saw my beast knew more of the chase than I did, and dropping the rein upon his neck, allowed him full freedom.

Cautiously, but rapidly, he came alongside the plunging buffalo, and taking more care, I sent a bullet through the fore part of his body. It was his death-wound; and, seemingly conscious of his fate, and determined on revenge, he wheeled instantly round, drove his fore-feet into the ground, and dropped his head to rip up my charger. This movement was so sudden, and we were so close upon him, that my horse could neither check his speed nor turn to one side. But he avoided him for all that. Dropping upon his haunches with a snort, he made a terrific bound upward and went clean over the buffalo. The maddened animal expected this, and plunged his horns upward at him, expecting to still kill him. The instinct of the horse was too much, however; he, too, feared such a fate, and leaped high enough to avoid him. As he came to the earth again, he plunged swiftly away, the enraged buffalo in full pursuit; but he easily kept clear from him, wheeling and dodging, and still remaining nigh enough for me to give my shot. My gun was unloaded, and before I could charge it, the buffalo had fallen to the earth and was fast dying.

I now looked about me. Buffaloes were flying in every direction, and the forms of the savages could be seen darting to and fro among them, dealing death and destruction at every turn. The main herd was pouring simultaneously southward, while the scores which had been cut off, were endeavoring to rejoin them, carrying us along with them. In different parts of the prairie could be seen the dark, motionless forms of the slain buffaloes, showing how successful the chase had been thus far.

The sky, which in the morning was fair and clear, was now becoming overcast with heavy clouds, and two or three warning rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance. Still, the savages were too excited to notice the interruption, as long as a single buffalo remained. I saw Jim plunge his horse unhesitatingly into a crowd of a dozen or so, when, as he commenced dealing destruction, his horse became entangled, and he was compelled to make a flying leap over the backs of the animals around him. This he accomplished successfully, leaping from one back to the other, until he was clear of them all.

Suddenly, it occurred to me, while holding my fiery horse, that if I meditated escape it was high time to be about it. Turning to the southward, I could just descry the drove thundering away, a vast cloud of dust circling above them. The rein was dropped upon the neck of my horse, and, stretching out his head, he bounded away like the wind. He was a noble animal, and was now in his element. He enjoyed the chase as much as any of the savages; and, as mile after mile of prairie flew beneath his feet, he was only warming into the excitement. As I looked back, I could just discern the Indians, like specks in the distance, still at their bloody work.

We were now at no great distance from the herd, and my horse catching sight of an old worried bull, somewhat in the rear, instantly made toward him. He was too jaded to hasten his pace, and I could see his fury was roused. I prepared to shoot him, as it would go to show my pursuers, if I should have any, that the excitement of the chase had alone carried me away. While yet some distance, he shied to one side, and turned his head warningly toward us, but without halting. The horse, however, finding that I still restrained my shot, continued to bring me closer. At last, the bison struck into a swifter run, and made desperate efforts to rejoin his companions. In an instant I was beside him, and holding my gun to my shoulder, was just on the point of firing, when he suddenly stood at bay, in precisely the same manner as the other. My horse, instead of making a running leap this time, stopped instantaneously, planting his feet firmly in the ground. I was not prepared for this, and shot a dozen feet over his head, falling upon my face within a foot of the buffalo. The shock was terrible, and I was severely injured. I endeavored to rise, fearing that I should be gored and trampled to death, but was unable, and heard the buffalo scampering away. I placed my hand to my face, and found it covered with blood, and a strange bewilderment was coming over me. I arose to my knees, and gazed about me. The buffalo was plunging in the rear of his drove, while my horse was galloping wildly around me, his mane and bridle flying in the wind. I heard the bursting of thunder overhead, and everything was growing dark and confused. I tried again to rise, but failed. There was a thick darkness about me, a heavy hand pressing me to the earth, and all become chaotic.

When consciousness returned, all was blank darkness. The rain was pouring down in torrents, and, stunned and bleeding, I lay on the soaked, cold, spongy earth. Gradually, the remembrance of my misfortune came over me. I must have been lying several hours upon the prairie, exposed to the cold, dismal storm. My clothes were saturated with the chilling rain, and my face and hands bedabbled with mud and dirt.

I struggled desperately to my feet, and endeavored to pierce the Stygian gloom around; but it was useless; not the smallest point of the faintest light could be seen in any direction. Up, down, on every hand, the same solid walls of darkness enveloped me. I was many miles from the Indian village, and had lost its direction. At that moment, I would have given worlds to have been within Jim’s lodge. Flight, in my present condition, was not to be thought of, and I must soon receive succor or I should perish.

I listened. In the dismal sweep of the rain something like a footstep was heard. I called out, but there was no reply. Again the splash of a foot was heard, now from a different point. Soon I discovered some animal was walking around me in a circle. Feeling round in the spongy prairie, I found my rifle, but it was useless as a means of defense, as the charge was thoroughly wetted. I clubbed it, and waited for the attack. Still around and around the same step went. At first I fondly hoped it might be Jim, or one of his companions, but its footfall showed it to be a quadruped, and its approach was too cautious. Suddenly it halted and walked directly toward me. I drew my rifle back, ready to brain it the minute it was within my reach. A faint neigh was heard – joy inexpressible! it was my faithful horse. As I called to him, he approached, and lowered his head for me to take his bridle. With a feeling of deep thankfulness and hope, I clambered into the saddle, and he bounded away, his unerring instinct leading him straight toward home.

The rain continued to beat, cold and dismal, and I felt already burning within me a hot, fiery fever, from the terrible suffering I had undergone. I should soon be prostrated, and without some kindly hand to nurse me, would inevitably perish. But the horse was certain; and, after an hour or two, my heart leaped, as we entered the silent Indian village. But one light was burning, and that was in the lodge of Jim, showing that he expected my return. I rode instantly up to the entrance and dismounted, while my noble horse made off to look out for himself. Jim arose as he heard my approach, and, lifting his torch, advanced to meet me.

“You had long hunt – ”

He started back in horror at my appearance. Then, holding his light over his head, and peering at me, he asked:

“What de matter? Been in fight?”

“No; I was thrown from my horse, and lay senseless upon the prairie until a short time ago. I feel bad, Jim, and fear I am severely injured,” said I, starting to seat myself.

“Wait minute; am hurt; let me fix ’em.”

He clapped his hands, and instantly the bundle of blankets at the side of the lodge arose to an upright position, and his squaw walked forth. My wounds were now dressed, my garments changed for dry ones, and with a hot cup of drink, I was swathed in blankets, and placed by the fire. Jim said it was not far from morning, and if at that time I was worse, he would call in the Medicine Man.

All night the fever burned and raged, and when morning came I was partially delirious. Jim examined my pulse, shook his head doubtingly, and departed from the lodge. In a short time he returned, and with him came the Medicine Man, an Indian considerably advanced in years, and much loved and honored by his tribe. He, too, looked grave, and held a consultation in an undertone with Jim. From these signs, I knew I was dangerously, probably fatally injured.

And now came days of those strange, indescribable visions that come over one in high fever. I was in all imaginable places, and saw wonderful persons and scenes. Now and then, there were moments when reason flitted to its throne. At such times I saw the Medicine Man or Jim near me; and once, as I wonderingly opened my eyes, I saw the mysterious captive bending over me. I looked straight into her dark, liquid eyes, and reached forth and touched her garment, to satisfy myself that it was no freak of mind. My fixed stare alarmed her, and she looked inquiringly at the Medicine Man. He mumbled something, and she departed.

About a week after my accident, as I subsequently learned, I awoke with my full reason. As I looked wonderingly about me, the first object that encountered my eyes was the captive to whom I have alluded. My fixed stare at her seemed to alarm her, and she arose to pass out.

“Wait,” said I; “pray do not leave me.”

“But you should not talk,” she replied, much agitated; “the Medicine Man would not allow it; you will surely injure yourself.”

“You and the Medicine Man are both mistaken, if he thinks thus. I know I have been sick and delirious, but my mind was never clearer than it is this instant, and I know a few moments’ conversation cannot injure me. Let me beg you not to refuse me this, as I cannot tell whether the opportunity will ever again be offered.”

The being before me was much embarrassed, and for a moment hesitated, seemingly in doubt between duty and inclination. Seizing the opportunity, I urged my wish with greater fervor than ever. Finally she glanced furtively around, as though she expected to meet the twinkling orbs of the Medicine Man, and then answered:

“I cannot refuse your request, and yet it seems wrong that I should thus disobey the injunctions that were given for your good. What is it that you wish to ask me?”

“Am I out of danger?”

“Not yet. You have been crazy for a long time, and more than once the Medicine Man has shaken his head in doubt when he looked upon you.”

“Have you not watched by me nearly all the time I have been thus?” I gazed full in her face as I uttered this question, and she dropped her eyes in confusion, as she replied:

“I have assisted the Medicine Man several times as he wished me to, and I have done no more to you than I would to any one in similar circumstances.”

“No, sweet being, I know you haven’t,” I exclaimed, in admiration; “your heart is open to any one. Who you are I know not, but I can see your race is similar to my own, and judge you to be a willing prisoner among these Indians. Your image has long been before me, and I can never forget your fair, angelic face. What first was merely interest upon my part, has grown into a stronger passion for you, though I fear – ”

I paused as she suddenly arose to her feet, and raised her hand in a warning manner. Before I could ask the meaning of this, a shuffling step was heard, and the next minute the Medicine Man made his appearance. He gesticulated angrily toward her, and she passed quietly out of the lodge. I followed her with my eyes, and as she reached the passage way, she turned toward me with a look that told more than words.

The Medicine Man evidently suspected what I had been doing; for I could see he was excited, and mumbled continually to himself. He forced a bitter, scalding drink into my mouth, which was soothing in its effects, and in a short time I slept.

Now comes a long blank in my memory. After this incident, black night shut around my mind. There is a faint recollection of again seeing Jim and the Medicine Man bending over me, and the sweet pale face of the fair captive, and then again came utter oblivion.

CHAPTER X
AN AWFUL AWAKENING

I have now reached a point in my life over which I would fain pass in silence. It is an experience so strange, so like some horrid vision of sleep, so different from what usually falls to the lot of man, that, at this remote day, I cannot look upon it without a recoiling shudder of horror. I have sometimes persuaded myself that it was unreal; but no, it is true, and time can never clothe the memory of it in a different dress than that of unearthly terror. Bleak and bare it stands alone, in my checkered lot, and the silver that now glistens prematurely in my hair, came upon that night.

I remember falling into a deep sleep, in which the last form that passed before my eyes was that of the dark Medicine Man; there was a confused murmur of voices, and then all became blank and dark. Gradually the darkness was swept by the glittering folds of a dream – a dream which had little form or theme, but the minutest particulars of which I remember to this day. There were airy, waving figures gliding silently about me without voice, but with every variety of motion. They passed and repassed before my face, frequently pausing and extending their arms over my body, and sometimes standing and intently scanning my countenance. This continued a long time, not a word spoken either by myself or the forms, when suddenly the whole changed. The waving figures darted with the rapidity of lightning among each other, and the quiet radiance became instantly as black as night. In this, I could distinguish the rushing forms growing fainter and fainter, until, at last, all was blackness again.

Then came a feeling as though the thick darkness in one volume were gradually crushing me beneath it, and then a strange feeling of being cramped and held forcibly still. Then came a long, deep, indrawn breath, and I awoke.

All was confused and inexplicable. Open my eyes as wide as I might, I could not pierce the Stygian gloom. I tried to move, but could not – could not stir a limb, and only the fingers of my hand. The air was steamy and hot, and I was surrounded by something which chained every part. I strove to collect my thoughts. I remembered the consultation in the hut, the coming unconsciousness, and – my present awakening. My first impression, after this, was that the house had fallen over me. I clenched my hands —they closed upon earth! I reached forward and licked the darkness. I tasted earth!– and then came the sudden, overwhelming knowledge —

I was buried alive!!

No pen can draw the faintest picture, no soul conceive the unutterable horror, unless that soul has gone through the same awful experience that filled my soul at that discovery. Such a whirlwind of fire as seethed through my bursting brain, such a perfect blaze of all the passions that can rack the human mind, I cannot portray with this feeble pen. For a moment I was frantic, and then suddenly a dreadful and frightful calmness soothed my frame.

Ay, I was buried alive! The savages had mistaken my trance-like stupor for death itself, and I had been hurried prematurely into the grave.

Oh, the appalling discovery! To die while in the grave! The thought was too horrible! I was not yet ready to give way to utter despair. I durst not pause a second for thought, for I knew it would surely come. I twisted and struggled with the strength of fury. I could turn my body around, and use my arms. There was an open space before my face, as I had been buried in the sitting position. Had I lain back I could not have survived five minutes; as it was, my limbs were immovably secured, and it was absolutely impossible for me to free myself.

It was a long time, for such an experience, before I admitted this, but I was compelled to at last. Death by suffocation was rapidly approaching, and all that was left for me was to prepare for it. The small breath of air around me had already been breathed over and over again, and was become hot, steamy, and sickening. I was gasping and panting, but strove to collect my thoughts and keep them from wandering. I commenced praying.

Suddenly a muffled sound reached my ear, as though something had fallen to the earth above. I listened – it was repeated directly over me, now rapidly and regularly. What could it mean? Was it the sign of dissolution, or was it real? I listened, and heard it plainer and plainer above the mild throbs of my heart. It was real! Something or somebody was digging at the grave above!

Could I now hold out till I was reached? The air had already become thick and palpable, and strange fires were flitting before my eyes. I held my breath till the distended blood-vessels seemed bursting, and then as I respired, the earth turned to soft mud around me; and then the long-labored inspiration was like drawing in some loathsome reptile.

But what was above? It could not be a person, as I had been buried by them. It must be some famished animal hastening to devour me. Yet this would be a relief, to gain one more draught of the sweet, cool air of heaven before death.

Now I heard the murmur of voices! I shouted – there was a pause and stillness; then the efforts were renewed with greater vigor. I shouted again. I could feel the jarring tremble of the loose earth above. Some one was endeavoring to rescue me from my awful fate, thank God!

A moment after, and the cool air brushed my face; a strong hand seized my arm, and – Oh, joy inexpressible! I was on the earth again.

For a moment I was bewildered and dizzy, and my pulse fluttered wildly, for I had been very, very nigh death. I was recalled to full consciousness by the familiar voice of Jim.

“Got in a tight fix, Bill. Ole Jim jus’ in time.”

I took the savage’s hand without a word, and, sinking upon my knees, sent up a deep, heartfelt prayer to the Merciful Being who had thus snatched me from the most appalling death. There was a bright moon shining, and, as I turned, I saw the dark Indian’s eyes fixed wonderingly upon me.

“Jim,” said I, solemnly, “may the God who has put it into your heart, reward you for this act. I never, never can.”

“Jim didn’t do it,” he quickly interrupted. “She did!” and, disengaging his grasp, he darted out of sight I turned and looked behind me. There, standing motionless as a statue, her slight form wrapped in a thick mantle, her sweet, white face appearing like a spirit’s, stood the fair, mysterious captive.³

For a moment, I was disposed to believe it was a spirit before me, so still and motionless she remained. Suddenly she turned to depart.

“Hold!” exclaimed I, springing forward and seizing her arm; “hold one moment, till I thank thee.”

“Thank the Great One above,” she replied, in a low, sweet voice. “He it is who has preserved your life.”

As she uttered these words, she turned her dark eyes upward, and the moonlight streaming down upon her face, threw a vail like the halo of glory around it. Then looking me calmly in the face, she added:

“You have escaped an awful death, it is true; and you are not the only one who has thus risen from the grave. When delirious, you spoke of home and of friends there, and I know your presence is prayed for. The chance of reaching them is now placed within your reach. A horse is saddled and bridled, and awaiting you, but a short distance away. Jim will furnish you with a rifle. You know the direction to take, and let me urge you to flee.”

Again she turned to go, but I restrained her.

“You are a white person, and do you wish to live and die with these savages?”

The tears glistened on her face as she replied, “I have not a friend in the civilized world. My parents were murdered by the Indians, and myself and sister carried away in captivity. We were separated; I was taken eastward, and she westward beyond the Rocky Mountains. She cannot be living, for she was a delicate child, younger than me, and incapable of bearing one-half the suffering that must have been imposed upon her. Should I ever see the land I left when a child, I should be a stranger among strangers. There are those here who love me, and I will remain behind and die among them.”

“Flee with me,” I impetuously urged. “You will not be a stranger. Hundreds will love you, and you can die with your own kindred. Jim, who is faithful to you, will furnish us both with a fleet horse, and we can elude all pursuit. I – ”

I paused, for her agitation had become painful. She was sinking to the earth, when I caught her, and, leading her a short distance, seated myself beside her upon a fallen tree. Then I gently pulled her head over on my bosom, and looked down upon her features. Her gaudy head-dress was removed, and her white face lay among the mass of jetty hair like a jewel set in darkness. The dark, sweeping lashes, the faint roseate glow of each cheek, the delicate nose and lips, as the moonlight rested on them, were indescribably beautiful. There was, too, an utter abandonment about her, – a tumultuous throbbing, that showed what a powerful emotion was agitating her.

What was that emotion? Was it a response to my own great passion? What else could it be? Encouraged by the certainty that the latter was the case, I urged my suit with redoubled ardor. I pictured the happiness that would be hers in a civilized country, and the utter misery that must follow her life among the savages. She informed me that she was a captive, not of the tribe near at hand, but of one further north, which had held her ever since the massacre of her parents; and that she had been told, in case she attempted to leave them, instant death would be the result. I saw she wished – she longed to flee, and the objections she offered were only suggested by her fears.

“Hist!” she whispered, “there is some one.”

I turned on the defensive. In an instant Jim stood beside me.

“How soon goin’?” he asked, anxiously, turning toward me.

“Shortly; why do you ask?”

“Day clus comin’, and if you cotched, no use!” he replied, meaningly.

“I was not aware, Jim, that I had enemies among you.”

“You hain’t; but – ”

The rest of the sentence was gesticulated, first pointing to me and the fair one beside me.

“Do you not understand?” asked the latter. “There are several in the tribe who look upon me with envious eyes, and were they conscious that you knew of my existence, you would not be spared a moment. This is what Jim means, and his words must be heeded.”

“Must I travel afoot and alone?” I asked of the Indian.

“There’s the hoss what tossed you over the buffler there,” he answered, pointing to a clump of trees, “and I’ve brought you them other things,” he added, handing me my knife, powder-horn, and rifle, “and I’ll show you through the woods to the peararie.”

“Thank you; but I shall not need you, as I know the way well enough.”

“How soon you goin’ to start?” he asked, turning to depart.

“In less than an hour I shall bid you farewell.”

“Jim,” interposed the fair captive, “bring my horse to the same spot. I think I shall also leave for home to-night. If inquiry is made, you can tell them this, and add that I shall probably be with them in a few days again. As I know the wilderness well, I will guide our friend here through it.”

The savage looked cautiously at us both. If he was shrewd enough to suspect the truth, he was polite enough not to show it. He replied that her wish should be gratified, and he disappeared as noiselessly as he came. It was now getting far in the night. The moon rode high in the heavens, and shed a full, perfect light down upon us.