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THE 8H00TINQ MATCH

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1"^ ' •'• / '' \ CXrjf^r

THE DOG CRUSOE

AND

HIS MASTER

A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies

TRobcrt /Iftlcbaci Jenllann^iic

Aulli>.i i.( " 1 lu- Lor.il I:,l.iii.l," "111. ^■.Hlll- I ur- I r.vUis,' " lii^;.na.'
•• riiL- lionll.i-iliintt rs," " Tliu Work! of Ite,'

'•M llli 1 1< itllL-f, '

N i: \v K I ) I r I o N

T. XE/..SOX A A- jy S O AS

.\j:ir )uA'A-

lSd3

CONTENTS.

CH.VrTKU 1

ThrUn-kirooihscttlnnnit-Crusoc'sparnifaucamlrayh,hislon,-n^

J"in,H and sorrows nf hi, tn,,>p,,/wo>f, and other in'crcstin., nnithr,. D

CHAPTEIl n.

.1 Hhooting-Mutch and its ,'onsequcncrs-Ncw friends introdiu^cd to the nmhr
^ —Crusoe nmUus mother ckun'jc masters lu

CHAPTER III.

»pecidatire remarks with which the reenhr ma>, or i,un, not aaree-An nhl
'T''''lr"T'' '"''^ "-''''<^>^<'^^nminuhd ,rith hard facts-The do;, Cruso,-s
'M

education hej/un.

CHAPTKR IV.

Onr hero enlarged upon— Grumps

.43

rilAl'TKIl V.

.1 mhsion of peace-Uncrpeded jo!,s^J>irk and Crusoe set of for the fand nf
the Redskms, and meet mth adventures h,, the tea,, as a matter of ,-our.., -

J^HI'dm the wild icoods... . ' -^

CHAPTKR Vr.

The great prairies of the far west-A remarkable eolon,, discovered, and a
miserable night endured....

b.»

CHAPTER VII.

The ''wallering'' peculiarities of buffalo bulls-The first buffalo hunt and its
conse,uences-C.n^^^^^^ comes to the rescue -Pa n-nees discovered -A monster
buffalo hunt-Joe acts the part of ambassador. -n

VI CUNT i: NTS.

CHAI'TKU VI If.

JJick find lim frioxls ritn't (he Iiidiunx <in<l f(r ukdui vomli rs — Crmtnc, fan,
f.r/i(rifnc(N a frir xitrjiri.'iis, (tml tdii'hm Indian dmis a Ugson — An Indian,
ildiidii — A f(i<)t-r<(<T It.")

CIFAPTER IX.

Crusoe nets a ronnpictinns mid hinnnni: pnrt — A frii nd [ininrd — A nrcnt
finst 110

CIIAPTKr. X.

Pcrjihxitiis — Our /iii)d> rs /i/cn flnir (kchjk — Un' rinctcl into-rn/ifinn — Tlir
tallies tumid — Cmmie nimods ininrii — Thc (.seajte iL'l

CHAPTF.U Xr.

Ennnnj mrditati(ms and morniwj reflict imt a— Buffaloes, l>ad;nvs, anfdopis, a ml
arcidcuts — An old hull and the irnlrrs — ^'' Mad tails''' — Htnri jlmivid,
etc loS

CHAPTER XII.

Wandrriuns on, the prairie— A var part>i—('hasrd Ini Indians — A huld Imp
for life 152

CIIAPTKR XIII.

Escape from Indians — A discovery — Alone in the desert 1(10

CHAPTER XIV.

C'rusix's rdurn, and his private adrrutun s anuniii thi Indians — Dick at a n r/i
low ebb — Crusoe saves him 170

CHAPTER XV.

Health and happiness r>turn — Inciihnts of the Journcii — .1 buffalo shut — A
wild horse *'creas(d" — Dirk's butth villi a mustan;/ 17S

CHAPTER XVI.

Dick bermnes a horse tamer — liesumes his Jourm u — Charlie's d(n'n;is— Misfor-
tunes irhich lead to, but do not terminate in, the liockif Moiinf<(ins- A
II rizzhi bea r 1!»5

CHAPTER XVII.

Dick's first jiijitt irith a iiri:r.l>i — Adventure irdli a ilar — A surprise 1207

CHAPTER XVIII.

A surprise, anil a piece of ijoad ni irs — The fur-traders — Crusoe jirovid, and
the Fciijans pursuid 2ir»

.1(10

^ (OXTKNTS. yjj

tH.\I'Ti:i; MX.

JJ!»

IIIAI'TKIJ XX.

^■'''■;''::^7';r;:'''-';''''^-''''''^'-'''''-^'''''''- '-• ../....w^ /,.„-.

CJfAPTKi: .\XI.

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:;;,'"■■'',"""■' """;■' ' -■- "■'"" •""< <"•■ ••-^w,„../„•■- :

' 2(53

<HAiTi;i; xxiT.

CI>nrlusa<lr,nf„as,rUh.,ra,,.an.ll.ar..- T ra^.i^n^'uf, 277

CHAITKU XXIIL
'"'■':;;, '"'7 'n'l' '"""'•"'•'^-'■'" "^----/.,//... .,,, auir ,l.U,„.^TI.

:iN4

CirAI'TKfl XXIV.

Vlun. an,l j,rn.,n.ts j,r, l,r U„u. ..irk, I u, nri ,u,.,,l.,.,ra>-Tl.r

Ju,luinsaU,u'l:(lu cawp-A Uow-up f,^

:{iii

\\'2-2

CHArTKR XXVIT.

;«i

THE DOG CRUSOE.

-♦♦-

CHAPTER I.

The backwooih nittleincnt—CruHortipnrnitafjc and mrhi historii — The (VKmizinrt
pains and sorrows of his puppiiliood, and other intcrtstinij laatlcrs.

THE dog Crusoe wa.s once a pup. Now do not,
courteous realer, toss your head contemptuously,
and exclaim, " Of course he was ; I could have told yoio
that." You know very well that you have often seen a
man above six feet high, broad and powerful as a lion,
with a bronzed shaggy visage and the stern glance of an
eagle, of whom you have said, or thought, or heard others
say, " It is scarcely possible to believe that such a man
was once a squalling baby." If you had seen our hero
in all the strength and majesty of full-grown doghood,
you would have experienced a vague sort of sui-prise
had we told you — as we now repeat— that the dog
Crusoe was once a pup — a soft, round, sprawling,
squeaking pup, as fat as a tallow candle, and as blind
as a bat.

But we draw particular attention to the fact of
Crusoe's having once been a pup, because in connection
with the days of his puppyhood there hangs a tale.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

This peculiar dog may thu^i be said to have had two
tails — one in connection with his hody, the other with
his career. This tale, though short, is very harrowing,
and as it is intimately connected with Crusoe's subse-
quent history we will relate it here. But before doing
so we nuist beg our reader to accompany us beyond the
civilized portions of the United States of America — -
beyond the frontier settlements of the " far west," into
those wild prairies which are watered by the great
Missouri River — the Father of Waters — and his numer-
ous tributaries.

Here dwell the Pawnees, the Sioux, the Delawarers,
the Ci'ows, the Blackfeet, and many other tribes of Red
Indians, who are gradually retreating step by step to-
wards the Rocky Mountains as the advancing white
man cuts down their trees and ploughs up their prairies.
Here, too, dwell the wild horse and the wild ass, the
deer, the buftalo, and the badger ; all, men and brutes
alike, wild as the power of untamed and ungovernable
passion can make them, and free as the wind that
sweeps over their mighty plains.

There is a romantic and exquisitely beautiful spot on
the banks of one of the tributaries above referred to —
a lono- stretch of mini>led woodland and meadow, with
a maonificent lake Ivinn' like a q:cu\ in its QTeen l)Osom
— which goes l)y the name of the IMustang Valley.
This remote vale, oven at the present day, is but thinly
peopled by white men, and is still a frontier settlement
round which the wolf and the bear prowl curiously,
and from wliich the startled deer bounds terrified away.
At the period of which we write the valley had just

l!i

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ay.

been taken possession of by several families of squatters,
who, tired of the turmoil and tlu.' squabbles of tlu' fht'U
frontier settlements, had pushed boldly into the far
Avest to seek a new home for themselves, where they
could have " elbow room," reo-ardlcss alike of the
danci'cvs they miijht encount(U' in unknown lands and of
the lledskins who dwelt there.

The squatters were well armed with axes, rifles, and
ammunition. Most of the women were used to dangers
and alarms, and placed implicit reliance in the power
of their fathers, husbands, and brothers to protect them -,
and well thev mitiht, for a bolder set of stalwart men
than these backwoodsmen never trod thi' wildernes.s.
Each had been trained to the nse of the rifle and the
axe from infancy, and many of them had spent so nuich
of their lives in the woods that they were more than a
match for the Indian in his own peculiar pursuits of
hunting and war. When the squatters first issued from
the woods bordering the valley, an innnense herd of
wild horses or mustangs wei-e browsing on the plain.
These no sooner beheld the cavalcade of white men
than, uttering a wild neigh, tlu'V tossed their flowiuii'
manes in the breeze and dashed away like a whirlwind.
This incident procured the valley its name.

The new-comers gave one satisfied jxhT-J^t'e at their
future home, and then set to work to ei-ect log huts
forthwith. Soon the axe was heard ringinu" throuuh
the forests, and tn^e after tree fell to th(^ ground, while
the occasional sharp ring of a rifle told that the hunters
were catering successfully for the camp. In course of
time the Mustang Valley began to assume the aspect of

THE DOG CRUSOE.

a thriving settlement, with cottages and waving fields
clustered too-ether in the midst of it.

Of course the savages soon found it out and paid it
occasional visits. These dark-skinned tenants of the
woods brought furs of wild animals with them, which
they exchanged with the white men for knives, and
beads, and baubles and trinkets of brass and tin. But
they hated the " Pale-faces " with bitter hatred, because
their encroachments had at this time materially cur-
tailed .the extent of their hunting-grounds, and nothing
but the numbers and known courage of the squatters
prevented these savages from butchering and scalping
them all.

The leader of this band of pioneers was a Major
Hope, a gentleman whose love for nature in its wildest
a.spects determined him to exchange barrack life for a
life in the woods. The major was a first-rate shot, a
bold, fearless man, and an enthusiastic naturalist. He
was past the prime of life, and being a bachelor, was
unencumbered with a family. His first act on reaching
the site of the new settlement was to commence the
erection of a block-house, to which the people might
retire in case of a general attack by the Indians.

In this block-house Major Hope took up his abode
as the guardian of the settlement. And here the dog-
Crusoe was born ; here he sprawled in the early morn
of life ; here ho leaped, and yelped, and wagged his
shaggy tail in the excessive glee of puppyhood ; and
from the wooden portals of this block -house he bounded
forth to the chase in all the fire, and strength, and
majesty of full-grown doghood.

Li ;:i

THE DOG CRUSOE.

nd
ed
(1

Crusoe's father and mother were magnificent New-
foundlanders. There was no doubt as to their being of
the genuine breed, for Major Hope had received them
as a parting gift from a brother officer, who had brought
them both from Newfoundhind itself. The father's
name was Crusoe, the mother's name was Fan. Why
the father had been so called no one could tell. The
man from whom Major Hope's friend had obtained the
pair was a poor, illiterate fisherman, who had never
heard of the celebrated " Robinson " in all his life. All
he knew was that Fan had been named after his own
wife. As for Crusoe, he had got him from a friend,
who had got him from another friend, whose cousin had
received him as a marriaoe-fjift from a friend of his;
and that each had said to the other that the dog's name
was " Crusoe," without reasons being asked or given on
either side. On arriving at New York the major's
friend, as we have said, made him a present of the dogs.
Not being much of a dog fancier, he soon tired of old
Crusoe, and gave him away to a gentleman, who took
him down to Florida, and that was the end of him. He
was never lieard of more.

When Crusoe, junior, was born, he was born, of
course, without a name. That was given to him after-
wards in honour of his father. He was also born in
company with a brother and two sisters, all of whom
drowned themselves accidentally, in the first month of
their existence, by falling into the river which flowed
past the block - house — a calamity which occurred,
doubtless, in consequence of their having gone out with-
out their mother's leave. Little Crusoe was with his

THE DOG CRUSOE.

brother and sisters at tlie time, and fell in alono; witli

by li

them, but was saved from sharing their fate by Jus
mother, who, seeing what had happened, dashed witli
an agonized liowl into the water, and, seizing him in
her nioutli, brought him ashore in a lialf-drowned con-
dition. Slie afterwards brouglit tlie others ashore one
by one, but the poor little things were dead.

And now we come to the harrowing part of our tale,
for the propor understanding of which the foregoing
dissertation was needful.

One beautiful afternoor , in that charminii' season of
the American year called the Indian sunnuer, there
came a fannly of Sioux Indians to the Mustang Valley,
and pitched their tent close to the block-house. A
young hunter stood leaning against the gate-post of the
palisades, watching the movements of the Indians, who,
having just finished a long " palaver " or talk with
Major Hope, were now in the act of preparing supper.
A fire had been kindled on the greensward in front of
the tent, and above it stood a tripod, from which de-
pended a large tin camp-kettle. Over this hung an ill-
favoured Indian woman, or squaw, who, besides attend-
ing to the contents of the pot, bestowed sundry culls and
kicks upon her little child, which sat near to her plajing
with several Indian curs that gambolled round the fire.
The master of the family and his two sons reclined on
buffalo robes, smoking their stone pipes or calumets in
silence. There was nothing peculiar in their appear-
ance. Their faces were neither dignified nor coarse in
expression, but wore an aspect of stupid apathy, which
formed a striking: contrast to the countenance of the

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imtf

i tl

THE DOG CRUSOE.

yoniiuf hunter, wlio seemed an amused .spectator of tlieir
proceeding's.

The youth referred to was very unlike, in many
respects, to wliat we are accustomed to suppose a bnck--
woods hunter shoukl V)e. He <lid not possess that quiet
gravity and staid demeanour whicli often characterize
these men. True, he M'as tall and strongly made, but
no one wouk.1 have called him stalwart, and liis frame
indicated grace and agility rather than strength. But
the point about him which rendered him diti'ercnt from
Ids companions was his bounding, irrepressible flow of
spirits, strangely coupled with an intense love of solitary
wandering in the woods. None seemed so well fitted
for social enjoyment as he ; none laughed so lieartily, or
expressed such glee in his mischief-loving eye ; yet foi*
davs together he went off alone into the forest, and
wandered where his fancy led him, as grave and silent
as an Indian warrior.

After all, there was nothing mysterious in this. The
boy followed implicitly the dictates of nature wiiliin
him. He was amiable, straightforward, sanguine, and
intensely earnest. When he laughed, he let it out, as
sailors have it, " with a will." When there was good
cause to be grave, no power on earth could make him
smile. We have called him boy, but in truth he was
about that uncertain period of life when a youth is said
to bo neither a man nor a boy. His face was good-
looking {every earnest, candid face is) and masculine ;
his hair was reddish-brown and his eye bright-blue.
He was costumed in the deerskin cap, leggings, mocca-
sins, and leathern shirt connnon to the wesiei'n hunter.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" You seem tickled \vi' the Injuns, Dick Varley,"
said a man who at that moment issued from the block-
house.

" That's just what I am, Joe Blunt," replied the
youth, turning with a broad grin to his companion.

" Have a care, lad ; do not laugh at 'em too much.
They soon take offence ; an' them Redskins never for-

give.

" But I'm only laughing at the baby," returned the
youth; pointing to the child, which, with a mixture of
boldness and timidity, was playing with a pup, wrink-
ling up its fat visage into a smile when its playmate
rushed away in sport, and opening wide its jet-black
eyes in grave anxiety as the pup returned at full gallop.

" It 'ud make an owl laugh," continued young Varley,
" to see such a queer pictur' o' itself."

He paused suddenly, and a dark frown covered his
face as he saw the Indian woman stoop quickly down,
catch the pup by its hind-leg with one hand, seize a
heavy piece of wood with the other, and strike it several
violent blows on the throat. Without taking the
trouble to kill the poor animal outright, the savage then
held its still writhing body over the fire in oi'der to
singe off the hair before putting it into the pot to be
cooked.

The cruel act drew young Varley 's attention more
closely to the pup, and it flashed across his mind that
this could be no other than young Crusoe, which neither
he nor his companion had before seen, although they had
often heard others speak of and describe it.

Had the little creature been one of the unfortunate

I ) I

I i :[ii 1

THE DOG CRUSOE.

the

niore
that

Kther
had

Indian curs, the two hunters would probably have
turned from the sickening sight with disgust, feeling
that, however much they might dislike such cruelty,
it would be of no use attempting to interfere with
Indian usaues. But the instant the idea that it was
Crusoe occurred to Varley he uttered a yell of anger,
and sprang towards the woman with a bound that
caused the three Indians to leap to their feet and grasp
their tomahawks.

Blunt did not move from the gate, but threw forward
his ritle with a careless motion, but an expressive glance,
that caused the Indians to resume their seats and pipes
with an emphatic " Wah ! " of disgust at having been
startled out of their propriety by a trifle ; while Dick
Varley snatched poor Crusoe from his dangerous and
painful position, scowled angrily in the woman's face,
and turning on his heel, walked up to the house, hold-
ing the pup tenderly in his arms.

Joe Blunt gazed after his friend with a grave, solemn
expression of countenance till he disappeared ; then he
looked at the ijround, and shook his head.

Joe was one of the regular out-and-out backwoods
hunters, both in appearance and in fact — broad, tall,
massive, lion-like ; gifted with the hunting, stalking,
running, and trail-following powers of the savage, and
with a superabundance of the shooting and fighting
powers, the daring, and dash of the Anglo-Saxon. He
was grave, too — seldom smiled, and rarely laughed.
His expression almost at all times was a compound of
seriousness and good-humour. With the rifle he was
a good, steady shot, but by no means a " crack "

pi i

if 1

ill
f I

THE DOG CRUSOE.

one. His ball never failed to hit, but it often failed
to hill.

After meditating a few seconds, Joe Blunt again
shook his head, and muttered to himself, "The boy's
bold enough, but he's too reckless for a hunter. There
was no need for that yell, now — none at all."

Having uttered this sagacious remark, he threw his
rifle into the hollow of his left arm, turned round, and
strode oti" with a long, slow step towards his own cot-
tage.

Blunt was an American by birth, but of Irish extrac-
tion, and to an attentive ear there was a faint echo of the
brogue in his tone, which seemed to have been handed
down to him as a threadbare and almost worn-out heir-
loom.

Poor Crusoe was singed almost naked. His wretched
tail seemed little better than a piece of wire filed off to
a point, and he vented his misery in piteous squeaks as
the sympathetic Varley confided him tenderly to the
care of his mother. How Fan managed to cure hiui no
one can tell, but cure him she did, for, in the course of
a few weeks, Crusoe was as well and sleek and fat as
ever.

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CHAPTER II.

A shootiivj-hKiU'h and its coiiticqacnrcs — New frit iuIk introduad In the
reader — Crusoe and Ids laotlicr chamje uiustirs.

SHORTLY after the incident narrated in the last
chapter the squatters of the Mustang Valley lost
their leader. Major Hope sud<k'nly announced his in-
tention of quitting the settlement and returning to the
civilized world. Private matters, he said, re<|uired his
presence there — matters which he did not choose to
speak of, but which would prevent his returning again
to reside among them. Go he must, and, being a man
of determination, go he did ; but before going he dis-
tributed all his goods and chattels among the settlers.
He even gave away his rifle, and Fan and Crusoe.
These last, however, he resolved should go together ;
and as they were well worth having, he announced that
he would give them to the best shot in the valley. He
stipulated that the winner should escort him to the
nearest settlement eastward, after which he might re-
turn with the rifle on his shoulder.

Accordingly, a long level piece of ground on the
river's bank, with a perpendicular cliff at the end of
it, was selected as the shooting-ground, and, on the
appointed day, at the appointed hour, the competitors
beijan to assemble.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Well, lad, first as usual," exclaimed Joe Blunt, as he
reached the ground and found Dick Varley there before
him.

" I've bin here more than an hour lookin' for a new
kind o' Hower that Jack Morgan told me he'd seen.
And I've found it too. Look here ; did you ever see
one like it before ? "

Blunt leaned his rifle against a tree, and carefully
examined the flower.

" Why, yes, I've seed a-many o' them up about ihe
Rocky Mountains, but never one here-away. It seems
to have gone lost itself. The last I seed, if 1 remimber
rightly, wos near the head-waters o' the Yellowstone
River, it wos — jest where I shot a grizzly bar."

" Was that the bar that gave you the wipe on the
choek ? " asked Varley, forgetting the flower in his
interest about the ^ear.

" It wos. I put six balls in that bar's carcass, and
stuck my knife into its heart ten times, afore it gave
out ; an' it nearly ripped the shirt ofl' my back afore I
wos done with it."

" I would give my rifle to get a chance at a grizzly ! "
exclaimed Varley, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.

" Whoever got it wouldn't have much to brag of," re-
marked a burly young backwoodsman, as he joined them.

His remark was true, for poor Dick's weapon was
but a sorry affair. It missed fire, and it hung fire ; and
even when it did fire, it remained a matter of doubt in
its owner's mind whether *Ae slight deviations from
the direct line made by his bullets were the result of
Jiis or its bad shooting.

^ 1

THE DOG ClUTSOE.

Further comment upon it was cliecked b}^ the anival
of a dozen or more Imntcrs on the scene of action.
They were a sturdy set of bronzed, bold, fearless men,
and one felt, on looking at them, that they \vould prove
more than a match for several hundreds of Indians in
open fifrht. A few minutes after, the major himself
came on the ground with the prize rifle on his shoulder,
and Fan and Crusoe at his heels — the latter tumbling,
scrambling, and yelping after its mother, fat and clumsy,
and happy as possible, having evidently quite forgotten
that it had been nearly roasted alive only a few weeks
before.

Innnediately all eyes were on the i-itle, and its merits
were discussed with animation.

And well did it deserve discussion, for such a piece
had never before been seen on the western frontier. It
was .shorter in the barivl and larger in the bore than
the weapons chiefly in vogue at that time, and, besides
being of beautiful workmanship, was silver-mounted.
But the grand peculiarity about it, and that which
afterwards rendered it the mystery of mysteries to the
savages, was that it had two sets of locks- -one per-
cussion, the other fiint — so that, when caps failed, by
takinn; off the one set of locks ami aflfixinu' the others,
it was converted into a flint rifle. The major, however,
took care never to run short of caps, so that the flint
locks were merely held as a reserve in case of need.

" Now, lads," cried Major Hope, stepping up to the
point whence they were to shoot, " remember the terms.
He who first drives the nail obtains the rifle, Ian, and
her pup, and accompanies me to the nearest settlement.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

lit

;'l

Each man shoots with his own gun, and draws lots for
the chance."

" Agreed," cried the men.

" AVell, then, wipe your guns and draw lots. Henri
will fix the nail. Hero it is."

The individual who stepped, or rather plunged for-
ward to receive the nail was a rare and remarkable
specimen of mankind. Like his comrades, he was half
a farmer and half a hunter. Like them, too, he was
clad 'in deerskin, and was tall and strong — nay, more,
he was gigantic. But, unlike them, he was clumsy,
awkward, loose-jointed, and a had shot. Nevertheless
Heriil was an immense favourite in the settlement, fr^r
his good-humour knew no bounds. No one ever saw
him frowv. Even when fighting with the savages, as
he was sometimes compelled to do in self-defence, he
went at them with a sort of jovial rage that was almost
laughable. Inconsiderate recklessness was one of his
chief characteristics, so that his comrades were rather
afraid of him on the war-trail or in the hunt, where
caution and frequently souvdlcss motion were essential
to success or safety. But when Henri had a comrade
at his side to check him he was safe enough, bcino-
humble-minded and obedient. Men used to say he
must have been born under a lucky star, for, notwith-
standin: , his natural inaptitude for all sorts of l)ack-
woods life, he managed to scramble through everything
with safety, often with success, and sometimes with
credit.

To see Henri stallv a deer was worth a long day's
journey. Joe Blunt used to say he was " all jints

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

together, from the top of his head to the sole of his
moccasin." He threw his immense form into the most
inconceivable contortions, and slowly wound his way,
sometimes on hands and knees, sometimes flat, through
bush and brake, as if there was not a bone in his body,
and without the slic^htest noise. This sort of work was
so much against his plunging nature that he took long
to learn it ; but when, through hard practice and the loss
of many a fine deer, he came at length to break himself
in to it, he gradually progressed to perfection, an<l
ultimately became the best stalker in the' valley. This,
and this alone, enabled him to procure game, for, being
short-siglited, ho could hit nothing beyond fifty yards,
except a bufialo or a barn-door.

Yet that same lithe body, which seemed as though
totally unhinged, could no more be bent, when the
nmscles were strung, than an iron post. No one
wrestled with Henri unless he wished to have his back
broken. Few couM equal and none could beat him
at running or leaping except Dick Varley. When
K(Miri ran a race even Joe Blunt lauohed outrio-ht, for
arms and legs went like independent flails. When he
leaped, ho hurled himself into space with a degree of
violence that seemed to insure a somersault; yet he
always came down with a crash on his foet. Plunging
was Henri's forte. He generally loimged about the
settlement when unoccupied, with his hands behind liis
back, apparently in a reverie, and when called on to act,
he seemed to fancy he must have lost time, and could
only make up for it by iilmig'nig. This habit got him
into many awkward scrapes, but his herculean power

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

as often got him out of them. He was a French-
Canadian, and a particularly bad speaker of the English
language.

We offer no apology for this elaborate introduction
of Henri, for he was as good-hearted a follow as ever
lived, and deserves special notice.

But to return. The sort of rifle practice called
" driving the nail," by which this match was to be
decided, was, and we believe still is, conuiion among the
hunters of the far west. It consisted in this : an
ordinary large-headed nail was driven a short way into
a plank or a tree, and the hunters, standing at a distance
of fifty yards or so, fired at it until they succeeded in
driving it home. On the present occasion the major
resolved to test their shooting by making the distance
seventy yards.

Some of the older men shook their heads.

" It's too far," said one ; " ye might as well try to
snuff the nose o' a mosquito."

" Jim Scraggs is the only man as'll hit that," said
another.

The man referred to was a long, lank, lantern-jawed
fellow, with a cross-grained expression of countenance.
He used the long, heavy Kentucky rifle, whicli, from
the ball being little larger than a pea, was called a pea-
rifle. Jim was no favourite, and had been named
Scraggs by his companions on account of his appearance.

In a few minutes the lots were di'awii, and the
shooting began. Each hunter wiped out tW barrel of
his piece with his ramrod as he stepped forward ; then,
placing a ball in the palm of his left hand, he drew the

U if

THE DOG CRUSOE.

stopper of his powder-liorn witli his teeth, and poured
out as much powder as sufTiced to cover tlie hullet.
This was the regular- measure auiono- them. Little
time was lost in firing, for these men did not " hano- "
on their aim. The point of tlui riile was slowly raised
to the object, and the instant the sight covered it the
ball sped to its mark. In a fuw minutes the nail was
encircled by bullet holes, scarcely two of which were
more than an inch distant from the mark, and one — •
lired by Joe Blunt — entered the tree close beside it.

" Ah, Joe ! " said the major, " I thought you would
have carried off the prize."

" So did not I, sir," r(!turned J)lunt, with a shake of
his head. " Had it a-bin a half-dollar at a hundred
yards, I'd ha' done better, but I never could hit the nail.
It's too small to hcc"

" That's cos ye've got no eyes," remarked Jim Scraggs,
with a sneer, as he stepp^.^d forward.

All tongues were now hushed, for the expected
champion was about to fire. The sharp crack of the
riile was followed by a shout, for »Jim had hit the nail-
head on the edge, and part of the bullet stuck to it.

" That wins if there's no better," said the mnjor,
scarce able to conceal his disappointment. " Who comes
next ? "

To this question Jlenri answered by stepping up to
the line, straddling his h'gs, and executing preliminary
movements with his rifle, that seemed to indicate an
intention on his part to throw the weapon bodily at the
mark. Ife was received with a shout of mingled laughter
and applause. After gazing steadily at the mark for

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THE UOG CRUSOE.

a few seconds, a broad grin over.sprea<l his countenance,
and looking round at his companions, lie said, —

" Ha ! mes boys, I can-not beliold dc nail at all ! "

" Can ye ' behold ' the tree ? " shouted a voice, when
the lauo'h that followed this announcement had some-
what abated.

" Oh ! oui," replied Henri quite coolly ; " I can see
him, an' a goot small bit of de forest beyond."

" Fire at it, then. If ye hit the tree ye desarve the
rifle — loastM^ays ye ought to get the pup."

Henri grinned again, and fired instantly, without
takinc: aim.

The shot was followed by an exclamation of surprise,
for the bullet was found close beside the nail.

" It's more be good luck than good shootin'," remarked
Jim Scrau'o-s.

" Possiblement," answered Henri modestly, as he re-
ti'eated to the rear and wiped out his rifle ; " mais I
have kill most of my deer by dat same goot luck."

" Bravo, Henri ! " said Major Hope as he passed ;
" you deserve to win, anyhow. Who's next ? "

" Dick Varley," cried several voices ; " where's Varley ?
Come on, youngster, an' take yer shot."

The youth came forward with evident reluctance.
" It's of no manner o' use," he whispered to Joe Blunt
as he passed, " I can't depend on my old gun."

" Never give in," whispered Blunt, encouragingly.

Poor Varley's want of confidence in his rifle was
merited, for, on pulling the trigger, the faithless lock
missed fire.

" Lend him another gun," cried several voices.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" 'Gainst rules laid down by ^[ajor Hope," said
Scrao'o;s.

" Well, so it is ; try again."

Varley did try again, and so successfully, too, that
the ball hit the nail on the head, leaving a portion o^
the lead stick ino; to its edo-e.

Of course this was greeted with a cheer, and a loud
dispute began as to which was the better shot of the
two.

" There are others to shoot yet," cried the major.
" Make way. Look out."

The men fell back, and the few hunters who had not
yet fired took their shots, but without coming nearer
the mark.

It was now agreed that Jim Scraggs and Dick Varley,
being the two best shots, should try over again, and it
was also ac^reed that Dick, shovdd have the use of Blunt's
rifie. Lots were again drawn for the first shot, and it
fell to Dick, who immediately stepped out, aimed some-
what hastily, and fired.

" Hit again ! " shouted those who had run forward to
examine the mark. " Half tlie bullet cut olF by the
nail head ! "

Some of the more enthusiastic of Dick's friends
cheered lustily, but the most of the hunters were grave
and silent, for they knew Jim's powers, and felt that he
would certainly do his best. Jim now stepped up to
the line, and, looking earnestly at the mark, threw for-
ward his rifie.

At that moment our friend Crusoe, tired of tor-
menting his mother, waddled stupidly and iiuiocently

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TJIE DOG CRUSOE.

into the midst of the crowd of men, and in so doing
received Henri's heel and the full weight of his elephan-
tine body on its fore paw. The horrible and electric
yell that instantly issued from his agonized throat could
only be compared, as Joe Blunt expressed it, " to the
last dyin' screccli o' a bustin' steam biler ! " We cannot
say that the effect was startling, for these backwoods-
men had been born and bred in the midst of alarms,
and were so used to them that a " bustin' steam biler "
itself ,' unless it had blown them fairly off their legs,
would not have startled them. But the effect, such as
it was, was sufficient to disconcert the aim of Jim
Scraggs, who fired at the same instant, and missed the
nail by a liair's-breadth.

Turnino' round in towerino; wrath, Scrao-o-s aimed a
kick at the poor pup, which, had it taken effect, would
certainly have terminated the innocent existence of that
remarkable <log on the spot ; but quick as lightning
Henri interposed the butt of his rifle, and Jim's shin
met it with a violence that caused him to howl with
rage and pain.

" Oh ! pardon me, broder," cried Henri, shrinking
back, with the drollest expression of mingled pity and
glee.

Jim's discretion, on this occasion, was superior to his
valour ; he turned away with a coarse expression of
ansfer and left tlie ground.

]\[ean\vliile the major handed the silver rifle to young
Varley. " It couldn't have fallen into better hands," he
said. " You'll do it credit, lad, I know that full well ;
and let me assure you it will never play you false.

THE doc; crtisoe.

loing
ihan-
ectric
could
the
annot
^roods-
larms,
biler "
c legs,
uch as
£ Jim
,ed the

Lined a
would
f that
Ihtning
s shin
1 with

finking

r,y and

1 to his
ion o£

roung
IS," he

well ;

false.

Only keep it clean, don't overcharge it, aim true, and it
will never miss the mark."

While the hunters crowded round ]3ick to conoTatu-
late him and examine the piece, he stood with a miiigle<l
feeling of hashfulness and delight at his unexpected good
fortune. Jlecoverini:>- himself suddenlv, he seized his old
rifle, and dropping quietly to the outskirts of the crowd,
while the men were still husy handling and discussing
the merits of the prize, went up, unobserved, to a boy
of about thirteen years of age, and touclied hiui on the
shoulder.

" Here, Marston, you know I often said ye should
have the old rifle when I was rich enough to o-et a new
one. Take it noiv, lad. It's come to ye sooner than
either o' us expected."

" Dick," said the boy, grasping his friend's hand
warmly, " ye're true as heart of oak. It's good of 'eC;
that's a fact."

" Not a bit, boy ; it costs me nothin' to give away an
old gun that I've no use for, an's worth little, but it
makes mo rioht o-jad to have the chance to do it."

Marston had longed for a rifle ever since he could
walk ; hut his prospects of obtaining one were very poor
indeed at that time, and it is a question whether he did
not at that moment experience as much joy in handling
the old piece as his friend felt in shouldering the prize.

A difliculty now occurred which had not before been
thouo'ht of. This Mas no less than the absolute refusal
of Dick Varley's canine property to follow him. Fan
had no idea of chanirina' masters without her consent

])ein£f asked or her inclination heinir consulted.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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" You'll have to tie her up for a while, I fear," said
the major.

" No fear," answered the youth. " Dog natur's like
human natur' ! "

Saying this he seized Crusoe by the neck, stuffed
him comfortably into the bosom of his hunting-shirt,
and walked rapidly away with the prize rille on his
shoulder.

Fan had not bargained for this. She stood irresolute,
gazing' now to the right and now to the left, as the
major retired in one direction and Dick with Crusoe in
another. Suddenly Crusoe, who, although comfortable
in body, was ill at ease in spirit, gave utterance to a
melancholy howl. The mother's love instantly prevailed.
For one moment she pricked up her ears at the sound,
and then, lowering them, trotted quietly after her new
master, and followed him to his cottage on the margin
of the lake.

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CHAPTER III.

speculative rcriutrkn witli uliich thr rcmlrr iiuvi or iiuni not wire — An old
icoman — Hopes and ivishes comtiiimjhd with hard facts — The do'j Crutsoe's
education hegun.

IT is pleasant to look upon a serene, quiet, humble
face. On such a face did Richard Yarley look
every night when he entered his mother's cottage. Mrs.
Varley was a widow, and she had followed the fortunes
of her brother, Daniel Hood, ever since the death of her
husband. Love for her only brother induced her to
forsake the peaceful village of Maryland and enter upon
the wild life of a backwoods settlement. Dick's mother
was thin, and old, and wrinkled, but her face was
stamped with a species of beauty which never fades —
the beauty of a loving look. Ah ! the brow of snow
and the peach-bloom cheek may snare the heart of man
for a time, but the loving look alone can forge that
adamantine chain that time, age, eternity shall never
break.

Mistake us not, reader, and bear with us if wo attempt
to analyze this look which characterized Mrs. Varley.
A rare diamond is worth stopping to glance at, even
when one is in a hurry. The brightest jewel in the
human heart is worth a thought or two. By a loving

TirE DOG CRUSOE.

■X':i

look we do not mean a look of love bestowed on a
beloved object. Tluit is common enough ; and thankful
should we be tliat it is so common in a world that's
overfull of hatred. Still less do we mean that smile
and look of intense affection with which some people —
good people too — greet friend and foe alike, and l)y
which effort to work out their heaio ideal of the expres-
sion of Christian love they do signally damage their
cause, by saddening the serious and repelling the gay.
Much, less do we mean that iierpetual smile of good-will
which argues more of personal comfort and self-love
than anything else. No ; the loving look we speak of
is as often grave as gay. Its character depends very
much on the face through which it beams. And it
cannot be counterfeited. Its ring defies imitation. Like
the clouded sun of April, it can pierce through tears of
sorrow ; like the noontide sun of summer, it can blaze
in warm smiles ; like the northern lights of winter, it
can gleam in depths of woe ; — but it is always the same,
modified, doubtless, and rendered more or less patent to
others, according to the natural amiability of him or her
who bestows it. No one can put it on ; still less can
any one put it off. Its range is universal ; it embraces
all mankind, though, of course, it is intensified on a few
favoured objects ; its seat is in the depths of a renewed
heart, and its foundation lies in love to God.

Young Varley's mother lived in a cottage which was
of the smallest possible dimensions consistent with com-
fort. It was made of logs, as, indeed, were all the other
cottages in the valley. The door was in the centre, and
a passage from it to the back of the dwelling divided it

THE DOG CRUSOE.

into two rooms. One of tlioso was sub-divided by a
thin partition, the inner room lieiiig Mrs. Varley's bed-
room, tlie outer Dick's. ]3aiiiel Hood's dormitory was
a corner of the kitclien, wliicli apartment served also as
a parlour.

The rooms were lighted by two windows, one on each
side of the door, which gave to the house the appearance
of having a nose and two eyes. Houses of this kind
have literally got a sort of expression on — if we may
use the word — their countenances. Square windows
give the appearance of easy-going placidity ; lovgish
ones, that of surprise. Mrs. Varley's was a surprise
cottage ; and this was in keeping with the scene in
which it stood, for the clear lake in front, studded with
islands, and the distant hills beyond, composed a scene
so surprisingly beautiful that it never failed to call forth
an expression of astonished admiration from every new
visitor to the Mustang Valley.

" My boy," exclaimed ^Irs. Varley, as her son entered
the cottage wdth a bound, " why so hurried to-day ?
Deary me ! where got you the grand gun ? "

" Won it, mother ! "

" Won it, my son ? "

"Ay, won it, mother. Druve the nail almost, and
would ha' druve it altogether had I bin more used to
Joe Blunt's ritle."

Mrs. Varley's heart beat high, and her face flushed
with pride as she gazed at her son, who laid the rifle on
the table for her inspection, while he rattled oft' an
animated and somewhat disjointed account of the

match.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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"Deary mo! now that was good, that was cliver.
But what's that scraping at the door { "

" Oh ! tliat's Fan ; I foro-ot licr. Here ! horo ! Fan !
Come in, good dog," ho cried, rising and opening tlio
door.

Fan entered and stopped short, evidently uncomfort-
able.

" My boy, what do ye with the major's dog ? "

" Won her too, mother ! "

" Won her, my son ? "

" Ay, won her, and the pup too ; see, here it is 1 " and
he plucked Crusoe from his bosom.

Crusoe having found his position to be one of great
comfort had fallen into a profound slumber, and on
being thus unceremoniously awakened ho gave forth a
yelp of discontent that brought Fan in a state of frantic
sympathy to his side.

" There you are, Fan ; take it to a corner and make
yourself at home. — Ay, that's right, mother, give her
somethin' to eat ; she's hungry, I know by the look o'
her eye."

" Deary me, Dick ! " said Mrs. Varley, who now pro-
ceeded to spread i.ho youth's mid-day meal before him,
" did ye drive the nail three times ? "

" No, only once, and that not parfetly. Brought 'em
all down at one shot — rifle, Fan, an' pup ! "

" Well, well, now that was cliver ; but — " Here the
old woman paused and looked grave.

" But what, mother ? "

" You'll be wantin' to go ofl" to the mountains now, I
fear me, boy."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" "Wantin oioy !" exclaimed the youth earnestly ; " I'm
always wantin'. I've l>in wantin' ever since I could
walk ; but 1 won't .^o till 3'()u let nie, mother, that I
won't!" And he struck tlu^ tahle with his fist so for-
cibly that the platters nuii;' a^ain.

"You're a i:;-ood boy, ])ick ; but you're too young yit
to ventur' among the Redskins."

" An' yit, if I don't ventur' young, I'd better not ven-
tur' at all. You know, mother dear, I don't want to
leave you ; but I was born to be a hunter, and every-
l)ody in them parts is a hunter, and I can't hunt in the
kitchen you know, mother ! "

At this point the conversation was interrupted by a
sound that caused young Varley to spring up and seize
his rifle, and Fan to show her teeth and growl.

" Hist, mother ! that's like horses' hoofs," he whis-
pered, opening tlie door and gazing intently in the
direction whence the sound came.

Louder and louder it came, until an opening in the
forest showed the advancing cavalcade to be a party of
white men. In another moment they were in full view
— a band of about thirty horsemen, clad in the leathern
costume and armed with the long rifle of the far west.
Some wore portions of the gaudy Indian dress, wdiich
gave to them a brilliant, dashing look. They came on
straight for the block-house, and saluted the Yarleys
with a jovial cheer as they swept past at full speed.
Dick returned the cheer with compound interest, and
calling out, " They're trappers, mother ; I'll be back in an
hour," bounded off" like a deer through the woods, taking
a short cut in order to reach the block -house before

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36 THE DOG CRUSOE.

them. He succeeded, for, just as lie arrived at the
house, the cavalcade wheeled round the bend in the
river, daslied up the slope, and came to a sudden halt
on the green. Vaulting from their foaming steeds they
tied them to the stockades of the little fortress, which
they entered in a body.

Hot haste was in every motion of these men. They
were trappers, they said, on their way to the Rocky
Mountains to hunt and trade furs. But one of their
number had been treacherously murdered and scalped
by a Pawnee chief, and they resolved to revenge his
death by an attack on one of the Pawnee villages. They
would teach these " red reptihjs " to respect white men,
they would, come of it what might ; and they had
turned aside hero to procure an additional supply of
powder and lead.

In vain did the major endeavour to dissuade these
reckless men from their p'lrpose. They scoffed at the
idea of returning good for evil, arxd insisted on being
supplied. The log hut was a store as well as a place of
defence, and as they offered to pay for it there was no
refusing their request — at least so the major thought.
The ammunition was therefore given to them, and in
half-an-hour they wore away again at full galk;;* over
the plains on their mission of vengeance. " Vengeance
is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord." But these men
knew not what God said, because they never read his
Word and did not own his sway.

Young Varley's enthusiasm was considerably damped
when he learned the errand on v Inch the trappers were
bent. Trom that time forward ho gave up all desire

THE DOG CRUSOE.

to visit the mountains in company with such men, but
he still retained an intense lonoins: to roam at large
among their rocky fastnesses and gallop out upon the
wide prairies.

Meanwhile he dutifully tended his mother's cattle and
sheep, and contented himself with an occasional deer-
hunt in the neicjlibourino; forests. Fo devoted himself
also to the training of his dog Crusoe — an operation
which at first cost him many a dv?ep sigh.

Every one has heard of the sagacity and almost reason-
ing capabilities of the Newfoundland dog. Indeed, some
have even rjone the lenijth of sa^'ini;- that what is called
instinct in these animals is neither more nor less than
reason. And in truth many of the noble, heroic, and
sagacious deeds that have actuallj' been performed by
Newfoundland dogs incline us almost to believe that,
like man, they are gifted with reasoning povvers.

But every one does not know thy trouble and patience
that is required in order to get a juvenile dog to under-
stand what its master means when he is endeavouring
to instruct it.

Crusoe's first lesson was an interesting but not a very
successful one. We may remark here that Dick Varley
had presented Fan to his mother to be her watch-dog,
resolving to devote all his powers to the training of the
pup. We may also remark, in reference to Crusoe's
appearance (and wo did not remark it soon-^i", chiefly
because up to this period in his eventful history he was
little better than a I'all of fat and hair), that his coat
was mingled jet-black and pure white, and remai uibly
glossy, curly, and thick.

THE DOG CRUSOE,

1 1

ii^^

A week after the shooting-match Crusoe's education
began. Having fed him foi* that period with his own
hand, in order to gain his affection, Dick took him out
one sunny forenoon to the margin of the lake to give
him his first lesson.

And here again we must pause to remark that,
although a dog's heart is generally gained in the first
instance through his mouth, yet, after it is thoroughly
gained, his affection is noble and disinterested. He car.
scarcel}'^ be driven from his master's side by blows ; and
even when thus harshly repelled, is always ready, on the
shortest notice and with the slightest encourap;' vn/^ to
make it up again.

Well, Dick Varley began by calling out, " Crusoe !
Crusoe ! come here, pup."

Of course Crusoe know his name by this time, for it
had been so often u<^ d as a prelude to his meals that
he naturally expected a feed whenever he heard it.
This portal to his brain had already been open for
some days ; but all the other doors were fast locked,
and it required a great deal of careful picking to open
them.

" Now, Crusoe, come here."

Crusoe bounded clumsily to his master's side, cocked
his ears, and wagged his tail, — so far his education was
perfect. We say he bounded clumsily, for it must bo
remembered that ho was still a very young pup, with
soft, flabby muscles.

"Now, I'm goin' to begin yer cdication, pup; thiitl
o' that."

Whether Crusoe thouu'ht of that or not we cannot

THE DOG ClIUSCJE.

say, but he looked up in liis master's face as he spoke,
cocked his ears very high, and turned his head slowly
to one side, until it could not turn any farther in that
direction ; then he turned it as nuich to the other side ;
whereat his master burst into an uncontrollable fit of
laughter, and Crusoe innnediately began barking vocif-
erously.

" Come, come," said Dick, suddenly checking his mirth,
" we mustn't play, pup, we must work."

Drawing a leathern mitten from his belt, the youth
held it to Crusoe's nose, and then threw it a jard away,
at the same time exclaiming in a loud, distinct tone,
" Fetch it."

Crusoe entered at once into the spirit of this part of
his training ; he dashed gleefully at the mitten, and
proceeded to w^orry it with intense gratification. As
for " Fetch it," he neither unc'')rstood the words nor
cared a straw about tliem.

Dick Varley rose innnediately, and rescuing the
mitten, resumed his seat on a rock.

" Come here, Crusoe," he repeated.

" Oh ! certainly, by all means," said (Jrusoe — no ! he
didn't exactly my it, but really he looketl these words so
evidently that wc think it right to let them stand as
they are written. If he could have finished the sentence,
he would certainly have said, " Go on with that game
over again, old boy ; it's quite to my taste — the jolliest
thing in life, I assure you ! " At least, if we may not
positively assert that he would have said tliat, no one
else can absolutely afiirm that lie wouldn'l.

Well, Dick Varley did do it over again, nnd Crusoe

'T"

THE DOG CRUSOE.

f'M8

worried the mitten over again, utterly regardless of
" Fetch it."

Then they did it again, and again, and again, but
without the slightest apparent advancement in the path
of canine knowledge ; and then they went home.

During all this trying operation Dick Varley never
once betrayed the slightest feeling of irritability or im-
patience. He did not expect success at first ; he was
not therefore disappointed at failure.

Next day he had him out again — and the next — and
the next - i the next again, with the like unfavour-
able result. In short, it seemed at last as if Crusoe's
mind had been deeply imbued with the idea that he
had been born expressly for the purpose of worrying
that mitten, and he meant to fulfil his destiny to the
letter.

Young Varley had taken several small pieces of meat
in his pocket each day, with the intention of reward-
ing Crusoe when he should at length be prevailed on to
fetch the mitten ; but as Crusoe was not aware of the
treat that awaited him, of course the mitten never was
" fetched."

At last Dick Varley saw that this system would never
do, so he changed his tactics, and the next morning gave
Crusoe no breakfast, but took him out at the usual hour
to ^0 through his lesson. This new course of conduct
seemed to perplex Crusoe not a little, for on his way
down to the beach ho paused frequently and looked
back at the cottage, and then expressively up at his
master s face, jlut the master was inexorable ; he went
on, and Crusoe followed, for true love had now taken

THE DOG CRUSOE.

possession of the pup's young heart, and he preferred his
master's company to food.

Varley now began by letting the learner smell a piece
of meat, which he eagerly sought to devour, but was
prevented, to his innnense disgust. Then the mitten
was thrown as heretofore, and Crusoe made a few st'.ps
towards it, but being in no mood for play he turned
back.

" Fetch it," said the teacher.

"I won't," replied the learner mutely, Ity means of
that expressive sign — not doing it.

Hereupon Dick Varley rose, took up the mitten, and
put it into the pup's mouth. Then, retiring a couple of
yards, he held out the piece of meat and said, "Fetch it."

Crusoe instantly spat out the glove and bounded
towards the meat — once more to be disappointed.

This was done a second time, and Crusoe came for-
ward %vith the mitten in his mouth. It seemed as if it
had been done accidentally, for he dropped it before
coming quite up. If so, it was a fortunate accident,
for it served as the tiny fulcrum on which to place the
point of that mighty lever which was destined ere long
to raise him to the pinnacle of canine erudition. Dick
Varley immediately lavished upon him the tenderest
caresses and gave him a lump of meat. But he quickly
tried it again lest he should lose the lesson. The dog
evidently felt that if he did not fetch that mitten he
sliould liavo no meat or caresses. In order, however,
to make sure that there was no mistake, Dick laid the
mitten down beside the pup, instead of putting it into
his mouth, and, retiring a few paces, cried, " Fetch it."

•1=*^

1 ^

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Crusoe looked uncertain for a moment, then he picked
up the mitten and laid it at his master's feet. Tlie
lesson was learned at last ' Dick Varley tumbled all
the meat out of his pocket on the ground, and, while
Crusoe made a hearty breakfast, he sat down on a rock
and whistled with glee at having fairly picked the lock,
and opened another door into one of the many chambers
of his dog's intellect.

1 1

CHAPTER IV.

Our hero ailanjcd upon — Grunips

TWO years passed away. The IMustang. Valley settle-
ment advanced prosperously, despite one or two
attacks made upon it by the savages, who were, however,
firmly repelled. Dick Varley had now become a man,
and his pup Crusoe had become a full-grown dog. The
" silver rifle," as Dick's weapon had come to be named,
was well known among the hunters and the Iledskins of
the border-lands, and in Dick's hands its bullets were as
deadly as its owner's eye was quick and true.

Crusoe's education, too, had been completed. Faith-
fully and patiently had his young master trained his
mind, until he fitted him to bo a meet companion in the
hunt. To " carry " and " fetch " were now but trifiing
portions of the dog's accomplishments. ITe could dive
a fathom deep in the lake and bring up any article that
might have been dropped or thrown in. His swimming
powers \;'erc marvellous, and so powerful were his
nuiscles that he seemed to spurn the water while pass-
inix throunjh it, with his broad chest \\\d\\ out of the
curling wave, at a sp(!ed that neither man nor beast
could keep up with for a moment. His intellect now
was sharp and quick as a needle ; he never required a

^ I

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ii
'I

1 \

i !

second bidding. When Dick went out hunting, he
used frequently to drop a mitten or a powder-horn un-
known to the dog, and after walking miles away from
it, would stop short and look down into the mild, gentle
face of his companion.

" Crusoe," he said, in the same quiet tones with
which he would have addressed a human friend, " I've
dropped my mitten ; go fetch it, pup." Dick continued
to call it " pup " from habit.

One glance of intelligence passed from Crusoe's eye,
and in a moment he was away at full gallop, nor did
he rest until the lost article was lying at his master's
feet. Dick was loath to try how far back on his track
Crusoe would run if desired. He had often gone back
five and six miles at a stretch ; but his powers did not
stop here. He could carry articles back to the spot
from which they had been taken and leave them there.
He could head the game that his master was pursuing
and turn it back ; and he would guard any object he
was desired to " watch " with unflinching constancy.
But it would occupy too much space and time to
enumerate all Crusoe's qualities and powers. His
biography will unfold them.

In personal appearance he was majestic, having
grown to an immense size even for a Newfoundland.
Had his visage been at all wolfish in character, his
aspect would have been terrible. But he possessed in
an eminent degree that mild, humble expression of face
peculiar to his race. When roused or excited, and
especially when bounding through the forest with the
chase in view, he was absolutely magnificent. At other

i,;;

THE DOG CRUSOE.

suing

it he

mcy.

tc to

His

Iving
land.

his
tl in
[face
land

the
bher

times his gait was slow, and lie seemed to pref<^r a quiet
walk with ])ick Varley to aiiythinir else under the sun.
But when Dick was inclined to be boisterous, Crusoe's
tail and ears rose at a moment's notice, and he was
ready for anything. Moreover, he obeyed commands
instantly and implicitly. In this respect he put to
shame most of the boys of the settlement, wdio were by
no means famed for their habits of prompt obedience.

Crusoe's eye was constantly watching the face of his
master. When Dick said " Go '' hu went, wiiL-n he said
" Come " he came. If he h id been in the midst of an
excited bound at the throji,t of a stag, and Dick had
called out, " Down, Crus ' he would have sunk to the
earth like a stone. No doubt it took many months of
training to bring the dog to this state of perfection,
but Dick accomplished it by patience, perseverance, and
love.

Besides all this, Crusoe could speak ! He spoke by
means of the dog's dumb alphabet in a way that defies
description. He conversed, so to speak, with his ex-
tremities — his head and his tail. But his eyes, his soft
brown eyes, were the chief medium of communication.
If ever the language of the eyes was carried to perfec-
tion, it was exhibited in the person of Crusoe. But,
indeed, it would be difficult to say which part of his ex-
pressive face expressed most — the cocked ears of expec-
tation, the drooped ears oi sorrow ; the bright, full eye
of joy, the half-closed eye of contentment, and the
frowning eye of indignation accompanied with a slight,
a very slight pucker of the nose and a gleam of daz-
zling ivory — ha ! no enemy ever saw this last piece of

1)^

'I '

I I

* 1 -

'■i H

! l!

!':

.1 i

THE DOG CRUSOE.

canine language without a full appreciation of what it
meant. Then as to the tail — the modulations of moan-
ing in the varied wag of tliat expressive member — oh !
it's useless to attempt description. IMortal man cannot
conceive of the delicate shades of sentiment expressible
by a dog's tail, unless he has studied the subject — the
wag, the waggle, the cock, the droop, the slope, the
wriggle ! Away with description — it is impotent and
valueless here !

As we have said, Crusoe was meek and mild. He
had been bitten, on the sly, by half the ill-natured curs
in the settlement, and had only shown his teeth in re-
turn. He had no enmities — though several enemies —
and he had a thousand friends, particularly among the
ranks of the weak and the persecuted, whom he always
protected and avenged when opportunity offered. A
single instance of this kind will serve to show his char-
acter.

One day Dick and Crusoe were sitting on a rock be-
side the lake — the same identical rock near which, when
a pup, the latter had received his first lesson. They
were conversing as usual, for Dick had elicited such a
fund of intelligence from the dog's mind, and had in-
jected such wealth of wisdom into it, that he felt con-
vinced it understood every word he said.

" This is capital weather, Crusoe : i in't it, pup ? "

Crusoe made a motion with his head which was
quite as significant as a nod.

" Ha ! my pup, I wish that you and I might go and
have a slap at the grizzly bars, and a look at the Rocky
Mountains. Wouldn't it be nuts, pup ? "

THE DOG CRUSOE.

jh a
ill-
Icon -

Iwas

3ky

Crusoe looked dubious.

■' Wluit, you don't ag-reo witli nie ! Now toll mo.
pup, wouldn't ye like to grip a l>ar?"

Still Crusoe looked dubious, but made a ^'ontle motion
with his tail, as thouj^-h he would have said, " I've seen
neither Rocky Mountains nor grizzly bars, and know
nothin' about 'em, but I'm open to conviction."

" You're a bravo pup," rejoined Dick, stroking the
dog's huge head affectionately. " I wouldn't give you
for ten times j'our weight in golden dollars — if there
be sich thino-s."

Crusoe made no reply whatever to this. He regarded
it as a truism unworthy of notice ; he evidently felt that
a comparison between love and dollars was preposterous.

At this point in the conversation a little dog with a
lame lej^; hobbled to the edge of the rocks in front of
the spot where Dick was seated, and looked down into
the water, which was deep there. Whether it did so
for the purpose of admiring its very plain visage in the
liquid mirror, or finding out what was going on among
the fish, we cannot say, as it never told us ; but at that
moment a big, clumsy, savage-looking dog rushed out
from the neighbouring thicket and began to worry it.

" Punish him, Crusoe," said Dick quickly.

Crusoe made one bound that a lion mitjht have been
proud of, and seizing the aggressor by the back, lifted
him off his legs and held him, howling, in the air — at
the same time casting a look towards his master for
further instructions.

" Pitch him in," said Dick, making a sign with his
hand.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

' 1

^'Mi

Crusoe turned and quietly dropped tlie dog into the
hike. Havin'^' recjarded his struii'L-les there for a few
moments with grave severity of countenance, he walked
slowly back and sat down beside his master.

The little dog made good its retreat as fast as three
legs Vv^ould carry it ; and the surly dog, having swum
ashore, retired sulkily, with his tail very much between
his legs.

Little wonder, then, that Crusoe was beloved by
great and small among the well-disposed of the canine
tribe of the Mustang Valley.

But Crusoe was not a mere machine. When not
actively engaged in Dick Varley's service, he busied
himself with private little matters of his own. He
undertook modest little excursions into the v ds or
along the margin of the lake, sometimes aL ^, but
more frequently with a little friend whose whole heart
and being seemed to be swallowed up in admiration of
his big companion. Whether Crusoe botanized or
geologized on these excursions we will not venture to
say. Assuredly he seemed as though he did both, for
he poked his nose into every bush and tuft of moss,
and turned over the stones, and dug holes in the ground
— and, in short, if he did not understa,nd these sciences,
he behaved very much as if he did. Certainly he
knew as much about them as many of the human
species do.

In these walks he never took the slightest notice of
Grumps (tha*"' was the little dog's name), but Grumps
made up for this by taking excessive notice of him.
When Crusoe stopped, Grumps stopped and sat down

THE DOO TTJUSOE.

i^y

not

asied

is or

but

eart

n of

for

^oss,

imd

[ces,

Han

of
ips
im.

to look at him. When Crusoe trotted on, Oruiiips
trotted on too. When Crusoe examined a busli, Crumps
sat down to watch him ; and when he (hig a hcle,
Crumps looked into it to see what was there. Crumps
never helped him ; his sole delight was in looking on.
They didn't converse niuch, these two dogs. To he in
each other's company seemed to be happiness enough —
at least Crumps thought so.

There was one point at which dumps stopped short,
however, and ceased to follow his fri'^nd, and that was
when he rushed headlong into the lake and disported
himself for an hour at a time in its cool waters. Crusoe
was, both by nature and training, a splendid water-dog.
Crumps, on the contrary, held water in abhorrence ; so
he sat on the shore of the lake disconsolate when his
friend was bathing, and waited till he came out. The
only time when Crumps was thoroughly nonplussed
was when Dick Varley's w^histle sounded faintly in the
far distance. Then Crusoe would prick up his ears
and stretch out at full gallop, clearing ditch, and fence,
and brake with his strong elastic bound, and leaving
Crumps to patter after him as fast as his four-inch
legs would carry him. Poor Crumps usually arrived at
the village to find both dog and master gone, and would
betake himself to his own dwelling, there to lie down
and sleep, and dream, perchance, of rambles and gambols
with his gigantic friend.

'. ''

l]\\

CHAPTER V.

A mission of peace — Unexpected jojis — DicJc nnd Crusoe set of for the land of
the Redskins, "... ' meet v:ith adventures htj the urn/ as a matter of course —
Nt(jht in the wild 'voods.

ONE day the inhabita.^ts of Mustang Valley were
thrown into considerable excitement by the
arrival of an officer of the United States army and a
sraall escort of cavalry. They went direct to the block-
house, which, since Major Hope's departure, had become
the residence of Joe Blunt — that worthy having, by
general consent, been deemed the fittest man in the
settlement to fill the major's place.

Scon it began to be noised abroad that the strangers
had been riont b^^ Government to endeavour to brinix
about, if possible, a more friendly state of feeling be-
tween the Whites and the Indians by moans of presents,
and promises, and fair spccclios.

The party remained all niglit in the l)lock-]iouse, and
ere long it was reported that Joe Blunt liad been re-
queste(\ and liad consented, to be the leader and chief
of a party of throe men wlio should visit the neigli-
bourino" ti'ibos of Indians to the west and north of tlie
valley as Government agents. Joe's knowledge of two
or three difiV^rc^nt Indian dialoots. and his well-known

l_.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

and

rc-

|lucf

liiih-

tlic
Itvvo

)wn

sagacity, rendered him a most fitting messenger on such
an errand. It was also whispered that Joe was to have
the choosing of his comrades in this mission, and many
were the opinions expressed and guesses made as to who
would be chosen.

That same evening Dick Varley was sitting in his
mother's kitchen cleaning his rifle. His mother was
preparing supper, and talking quietly about the obsti-
nacy of a particular hen that had taken to laying her
eggs in places where they could not be found. Fan
was coiled up in a corner sound asleep, and Crusoe was
sitting at one side of the fire looking on at things in
general.

" I wonder," remarked Mrs. Varley, as she spread the
table with a pure white napkin — " I wonder what the
sodgers are doin' wi' Joe Blunt."

As often happens when an individual is mentioned,
the worthy referred to opened the door at that moment
and stepped into the room.

" Good e'en t'ye, dame," said the stout hunter, doffing
his cap, and resting his rifle in a corner, while Dick
rose and placed a chair for him.

"The same to you, IVlaster Blunt," answered the widow;
"you've jist comed in good time for a cut o' venison."

" Thanks, mistress , I s'pose we're beholden to the
silver rifle for that."

" To the hand that aimed it, rather," suggested the
wic^ow.

" Nay, then, say raither to the dog that turned it,"
said Dick Varley. " But for Crusoe, that buck would
ha' bin couched in the woods this niirht."

A — —

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Oh ♦ it* it comes to that," retorted Joe, " I'd lay it
to the door o' Fan, for if she'd niver bin born nother
would Crusoe. But it's good an' tender meat, whativer
ways ye got it. Howsiver, I've other things to talk
about jist now. Them sodgers that are catin' buffalo
tongues up at the block-house as if they'd niver ate meat
before, and didn't hope to eat again for a twelvemonth — ''

" Ay, what o' them ? " interrupted Mrs. Varley ; " I've
bin wonderin' what was their errand."

"Of coorse ye wos, Dame Varley, and I've comed
here a', purpis to tell ye. They want me to go to the
Redskins to make peace between them and us ; and
they've brought a lot o' goods to make them presents
withal — beads, an' knives, an' lookin'-glasses, an' ver-
milion paint, an' sich like, jist as much as'll be a light
load for one horse — for, ye see, nothin' can be done wi'
the Redskins without gifts.''

" 'Tis a blessed mission," said the widow ; " I wish it
may succeed. D'ye think ye'll go ? ''

" Go ? ay, that will I."

" I only wish they'd made the offer to me," said Dick
with a sigh.

" An' so they do make the offer, lad. They've gin
me leave to choose the two men I'm to take with me,
and I've comed straight to ask you. Ay or no, for we
must up an' away by break o* day to-morrow."

Mrs. Varley started. " So soon ? " she said, with a
look of anxiety,

" Ay ; the Pawnees are at the Yellow Creek jist at
this time, but I've heerd they're 'bout to break up
camp an' away west ; so we'll need to use haste."

Ci>.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" May I go, mother ? " asked Dick, with a look of
anxiety.

Tliere was evidently a conflict in the widow's breast,
but it quickly ceased.

" Yes, my boy," she said in her own low, quiet voice ;
" and God e'o with ve. I knew the time must come
soon, an' I thank him that your first visit to the Red-
skins will be on an errand o' peace. ' Blessed are the
peace-makers : for they shall be called the children of
God.' "

Dick grasped his mother's hand and- pressed it to his
cheek in silence. At the same moment Crusoe, seeing
that tlie deeper feelings of his master were touched, and
deeming it his duty to sympathize, rose up and thrust
his nose against liim.

" Ah, pup," cried the young man hastily, " you must
go too. — Of course Crusoe goes, Joe IMunt ? "

"Hum ! I don't know that. Tip re's no dependin' on
a dog to keep his to uc quiet in times o' danger."

"Believe me," exclaiiiKd Dirk, flashing \\\i\i enthu-
siasm, "Crusoe's more trusLnuithy than I am myself,
If ye can trust the master, ye're safe to trust the pup."

" Well, lad, ye may be right. We'll take him."

" Thanks, Joe. And who else goes with us ? "

" I've bin castin' that in my mind for some time, an'
I've fixed to take Henri. He's not the i'est man in
the valley, but he's the truest, that's a l.ict. And now,
youngster, get yer horse an' rifle ready, and come to the
block-house at daybreak to-morrow. — Good luck to ye,
mistress, till we meet agin."

Joe Blunt rose, and taking up his rifle — without

THE DOG CRUSOE.

J
'.1

which he scarcely ever moved a foot from his own door
— left the cottage with rapid strides.

" My son," said Mrs. Varley, kissing Dick's cheek as
he resumed his seat, " put this in the little pocket I
made for it in your hunting-shirt."

She handed him a dmall pocket Bible.

" Dear mother," he said, as he placed the book care-
fully within the breast of his coat, " the Kedsi'in that
takes that from me mus^ ^ake my scalp first. Ei:t
don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord would
protect me. So he will, njother, for sure it's an errand
o' peace."

" Ay, that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a
half -soliloquy.

Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his
mother, and next morning at daybreak he was at the
place of meeting, mounted on his sturdy little horse,
with the " silver rifle " on his shoulder and Crusoe by
his side.

" That's right, lad, tliat's right. Nothin' like keepin'
yer time," said Joe, as he led out a pack-horse from the
gate of the block-house, while liis own charger was held
ready saddled by a man named Daniel Branrl, who had
been appointed to the charge of the block -house in his
absence.

" Where's Henri ? — oh, here he comes ! " exclaimed
Dick, as the hunter referred to came thundering up
the slope at a charge, on a horse that resembled its
rider in size and not a little in clumsiness of appear-
ance.

" Ah ! mes boy. Ilim is a go< 't one to go," cried

\\\ \

.Vi*=]

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Henri, remarking Dick's smile as he pulled up. " No
boss on de plain can beat dis one , surement."

" Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack ; we've
no time to palaver."

By this tiino they were joined by several of the
soldiers and a few hunters who had come to see them
start.

" Remember, Joe," said one, " if you don't come back
in three months we'll all come out in a band to seek von."

" If we don't come back in less than that time, what's
left o' us won't be worth seekin' for," said Joe, tighten-
ing; the siirth of his saddle.

" Put a bit in yer own mouth, Henri," cried another,
as the Canadian arranged his steed's bridle ; " ye'U need
it more tlian yer horse when ye git 'mong tlie red
reptiles."

" Vraiment, if mon mout' needs one bit, yours will
need one padlock."

"Now, lads, mount!" cried Joe Blunt as he vaulted
into the saddle.

Dick A^irley sprang liglitly on his horse, and Henri
made a rush at his steed and hurled his hu^e frame
across its back with a violence that ouirht to liave
brought it to the ground ; but the tall, raw-boned, broad-
chested roan was accustomed to the eccentricities of its
master, and stood the shock bravely. Being appointed
to lead the pack-horse, H.Miri seized its halter. Then
the three cavaliers shook tlieir reins, and, waving their
hands to tlieir comrades, they sprang into the woods at
full gallop, and laid their course for the "far west."

For some time they galloped side by side in silence,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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each occupied with his own thoughts, Crusoe keeping
close beside his master's horse. The two elder hunters
evidently ruminated on the object of their mission and
the prospects of success, for their countenances were
grave and their eyes cast on the ground. Dick Yarley,
too, thought upon the Red-men, but his musings were
deeply tinged with the bright hues of a Jirst adventure.
The mountains, the plains, the Indians, the bears, the
buffaloes, and a thousand other objects, danced wildly
before his mind's eye, and his blood careered through
his veins and flushed his forehead as he thought of
what he should see and do, and felt the elastic vigour
of youth respond in sympathy to the light spring of
his active little steed. He was a lover of nature, too,
and his flashing eyes glanced observantly from side to
side as they swept along — sometimes through glades
of forest trees, sometimes tlirough belts of more open
ground and shrubbery ; anon by the margin of a stream
or along the shores of a little lake, and often over short
stretches of flowering prairie-land — while the firm,
elastic turf sent up a muffled sound from the tramp of
their mettlesome chargers. It was a scene of wild,
luxuriant beauty, that might almost (one could fancy)
have drawn involuntary homage to its bountiful Creator
from the lips even of an infidel.

After a time Joe Blunt reined up, and they proceeded
at an easy ambling pace. Joe and his friend Henri
were so used to these beautiful scenes that they had
long ceased to be enthusiastically affected by them,
though they never ceased to delight in them.

" I hope," said Joe, " that them sodgers '11 go their

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

ways soon. I've no notion o' theui chaps when they're
left at a place wi' nothin' to do but whittle sticks."

" Why, Joe ! " exclaimed Dick Varley in a tone of
surprise, " I thought you were adniirin' the beautiful
face o' nature all this time, and ye're only thinkin' about
the sodgers. Now, that's strange ! "

" Not so strange after all, lad," answered Joe. " When
a man's used to a thing, he gits to admire an' enjoy it
without speakin' much about it. But it is true, boy,
that mankind 2fits in coorse o' time to think little o'
the blissin's he's used to."

" Oui, c'est vrai!" murmured Henri emphatically.

"Woll, Joe Blunt, it may be so, but I'm thankful
Ftn not used to this suit o' thing yet," exclaimed
Varley. " Let's have another gallop — so ho ! come
along, Crusoe ! " shouted the youth as he shook his reins
and flew over a long stretch of praii'ie on which at that
moment they entered.

Joe smiled as he followed his enthusiastic companion,
but after a short run he pulled up.

" Hold on, youngster," he cried ; " ye must larn to do
as ye're bid, lad. It's trouble enough to be among wild
Injuns and wild buffaloes, as I hope soon to be, without
havin' wild comrades to look after."

Dick laughed, and reined in his panting horse, " I'll
bo as obedient as Crusoe," he said, " and no one can
beat liim."

" Besides," continued Joe, "' the horses won't travel
far if we begin by runnin' all the wind out o'
them."

"Wall!" exclaimed Henri, as the led horse became

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

restive ; " I think we must give to him de paek-hoss for
to lead, eh ? "

" Not a bad notion, Henri. We'll make that the
penalty of runnin' oft' again ; so look out, Master Dick."

" I'm down," replied Dick, with a modest air, " obe-
dient as a baby, and won't run off again — till — the
next time. By the way, Joe, how many days' provisions
did ye bring ? "

" Two. That's 'nough to carry us to the Great
Prairie, which is three weeks distant from this. Our
own good rifles must make up the diflerencc, and keep
us when we get there."

" And s'pose we neither fin(? ilecr nor buffalo," sug-
gested Dick.

" I s'pose well have to starve."

" Dat is cumfer'able to tink upon," remarked Henri.

" More comfortable to think o' than to undergo," said
Dick ; " but I s'pose there's little chance o' that."

" Well, not much," replied ^oe Blunt, patting his
horse's neck, " but d'ye see, lad, ye niver can count for
sartin on anythin'. The deer and buffalo ought to be
thick in them plains at this time — and when the buffalo
are thick they covers the plains till ye can hardly see
the end o' them ; but, ye see, sometimes the rascally
Redskins takes it into their heads to burn the prairies,
and sometimes ye find the place that should ha' bin
black wi' buffalo, black as a coal wi' fire for miles an'
miles on end. At other times the Redskins go huntin'
in 'ticlur places, and sweeps them clean o' every hoof
that don't git away. Sometimes, too, the animals seems
to take a scunner at a place, and keeps out o' the way.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

But one way or another men ginrally manage to
scramble through."

" Look yonder, Joe," exclaimed Dick, pointing to the
summit of a distant ridge, where a small black object
was seen moving against the sky, " that's a deer, ain't
it?"

Joe shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly
at the object in question. " Ye're right, boy ; and by
good luck we've got the wind of him. Cut in an' take
your chance now. There's a long strip o' wood as'll
let ye git close to him."

Before the sentence was well finished Dick and
Crusoe were off at full gallop. For a few hundred
yards they coursed along the bottom of a hollow ; then
turning to the right they entered the strip of wood, and
in a few minutes gained the edge of it. Here Dick
dismounted.

" You can't help me here, Crusoe. Stay where you
are, pup, and hold my horse."

Crusoe seized the end of the line, which was fastened
to the horse's nose, in his moutJi, and lay down on
a hillock of moss, suljuiissively placing his cliin on his
forepaws, and watcl.'ing his master as he stepped noise-
lessly throuoh the wood. In a few minutes Dick
emerged from among the trees, and creeping from bush
to bush, succeeded in getting to within six hundred
yards of the deer, which was a l)eautiful little antelope.
Beyond the bush behind which he now crouched all was
bare open ground, without a shrub or a hillock large
enouo-h to conceal the hunter. There was a slio-ht un-
dulation in the ground, however, which enabled him to

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

advance about fifty j^arcls farther, by means of lying
down quite fiat and working himself forward like a ser-
pent. Farther than this he could not move without
being seen by the antelope, which browsed on the ridge
before him in fancied security. The distance was too
great even for a long shot ; but ]3ick knew of a weak
point in this little creature's nature which enabled him
to accomplish his purpose — a weak point which it shares
in common with animals of a higher order — namely,
curiosity.

The little antelope of the North American prairies is
intensely curious about everything that it does not
quite understand, and will not rest satisfied until it has
endeavoured to clear up the mystery. Availing himself
of this propensity, Dick did what both Indians and
hunters are accustomed to do on these occasions — he
put a piece of rag on the end of his ramrod, and keep-
ing his person concealed and perfectly still, waved this
miniature flag in the air. The antelope noticed it at
once, and, pricking up its ears, began to advance, timidly
and slowly, step by step, to see what remarkable phe-
nomenon it could be. In a few seconds the flao- w^as
lowered, a sharp crack followed, and the antelope fell
dead upon the plain.

" Ha, boy ! that's a good supper, anyhow," cried Joe,
as he galloped up and dismounted.

" Goot ! dat is better nor dried meat," added Henri.
" Give him to me ; I will put him on my boss, vich is
strongar dan 3'ourn. But ver is your boss ? "

" He'll be here in a minute," replied Dick, putting his
fingers to his mouth and giving forth a shrill whistle.

ill ' '
ill.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

The instant Crusoe heard the sound he made a savao'e
and apparently uncalled-i'or dash at the horse's heels.
This wild act, so contrary to the dog's gentle nature, was
a mere piece of acting. He knew that the horse would
not advance without oettinix a frii-ht, so he i^ave him
one in this way, which sent him off at a gallop. Crusoe
followed clo«e at his heels, so as to brintj the line alonc^-
side of the nag s body, and thereby prevent its getting
entangled ; but despite his best efforts the horse got on
one side of a tree and he on the other, so he wisely let
go his hold of the line, and waited till more open ground
enabled him to catch it again. Then he hung heavily
back, gradually checked the horse's speed, and finally
trotted him up to his master's side.

" 'Tis a cliver cur, good sooth," exclaimed Joe Blunt
in surprise.

" Ah, Joe ! you haven't seen much of Crusoe yet.
He's as good as a man any day. I've done little else
but train him for two years gone by, and he can do
most anything but shoot — he can't handle the rifle
nohow."

" Ha ! then, I tink perhaps hims could if he wos try,"
said Henri, plunging on to his horse with a laugh, and
arranging the carcass of the antelope across the pommel
of his saddle.

Thus they hunted and galloped, and trotted and
ambled on through wood and plain all day, until the
sun began to descend below the tree-tops of the bluffs
on the v/est. Then Joe Blunt looked about him for a
place on which to camp, and finally fixed on a spot
under the shadow of a noble birch by the margin of a

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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little stream. The carpet of grass on its banks was soft
like green velvet, and the rippling waters of the brook
were clear as crystal — v^ery different from the muddy
Missouri into which it flowed.

While Dick Varley felled and cut up firewood, Henri
unpacked the horses and turned them loose to graze,
and Joe kindled the fire and prepared venison steaks
and hot tea for supper.

In excursions of this kind it is customary to " hobble "
the horses — that is, to tie their fore-legs together, so
that they cannot run either fast or far, but are free
enough to amble about with a clumsy sort of hop in
search of food. This is deemed a sufficient check on
their tendency to roam, although some of the knowing
horses sometimes learn to hop so fast with their hobbles
as to give their owners much trouble to recapture them.
But when out in the prairies where Indians are kn wn
or supposed to be in the neighbourhood, the h'^rses are
picketed by means of a pin or stake attached to the
ends of their long lariats, as well as hobbled , for In-
dians deem it no disgrace to steal or tell lies, though
they think it disgraceful to be found out in doing either.
And so expert are these dark-skinned natives of the
western prairies, that they will creep into the midst of
an enemy's camp, cut the lariats and hobbles of several
hiorses, spring suddenly on their backs, and gallop away.

They not only steal from white men, but tribes that
are at enmity steal from each other, and the boldness
with which they do this is most remarkable. When
Indians are travelling in a country where enemies are
prowling, they guard their camps at night with jealous

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

(i3

care. The horses in particular are both hobbled and
picketed, and sentries arc posted all round the camp.
Yet, in spite of these precautions, hostile Indians manage
to elude the sentries and creep into the camp. When a
thief thus succeeds in effecting an entrance, his chi(>f
danger is past. He rises boldly to his feet, and wrap-
ping his blanket or buffalo robe round him, he walks up
and down as if he were a member of the tribe. At the
.same time ho dexterously cuts the lariats of .such horses
as he observes are not hobbled. He dare not stoop to
cut the hobbles, as the action would be observed, and
suspicion would be instantly aroused. He then leaps
on the best horse he can find, and uttering a terrific
war-whoop darts away into the plains, driving the loos-
ened horses before him.

No such dark thieves were supposed to be near the
camp under the birch-tree, however, so Joe, and Dick,
and Henri ate their supper in comfort, and let their
horses browse at will on the rich pasturage.

A brio-ht ruddv fire was soon kindled, which created,
as it were, a little ball of light in the midst of surround-
ing darkness for the special use of our hardy hunters.
Within this magic circle all was warm, comfortable, and
cheery ; outside all was dark, and cold, and dreary by
contrast.

When the substantial part of supper was disposed of,
tea and pipes were introduced, and conversation began
to flow. Tnen the three saddles were placed in a row ;
each hunter wrapped himself in his blanket, and pillow-
ing his head on his saddle, stretched his feet towards
the fi]-e and went to sleep, with his loaded rifle by his

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

side and his hunting-knit 3 handy in his belt. Crusoe
mDunted guard by stretching himself out couchant at
Dick Varloy's side. The faithful dog slept lightly, and
never moved all night ; but ha( . any one observed him
closely he would have seen that every fitful flame that
burst from the sinking fire, every unusual puff of wind,
and every motion of the horses that fed or rested hard
by, had the effect of revealing a speck of glittering
white in Crusoe's watchful eye.

lil.!

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CHAPTER VI.

The (jrcat prairies of the far west — A remarkable colony discovered, and a

miserable niyht endured.

OF all the hours of the night or clay the hour that
succeeds the dawn is the purest, the most joyous,
and the best. At least so think we, and so think hun-
dreds and thousands of the human family. And so
thought Dick Varley, as he sprang suddenly into a
sitting posture next morning, and threw his arms with
an exulting feeling of delight round the neck of Crusoe,
who instantly sat up to greet him.

This was an unusual piece of enthusiasm en the part
of Dick ; but the dog received it with marked satisfac-
tion, rubbed his big hairy cheek against that of his
young master, and arose from his sedentary position in
order to afford free scope for the use of his tail.

" Ho ! Joe Blunt 1 Henri ! Up, boys, up ! The sun
will have the start o' us. I'll catch the nags."

So saying Dick bounded away into the woods, with
Crusoe gambolling joyously at his heels. Dick soon
caught his own horse, and (^rusoe caught Joe's. Then
the former mounted and tjLuickly brought in the other
two.

Returning to the camp he found everything packed
and ready to strap on the back of the pack-horse.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" That's the way to do it, lad," cried Joe. " Here,
Henri, look alive and git ycr bca.st ready. I do believe
ve'rc oroin' to take another snooze ! "

Henri was indeed, at that moment, indulging in a
ffioantic stretch and a cavernous vawn ; but he finished
both hastily, and rushed at his poor horse as if he in-
tended to slay it on the spot. He only threw the saddle
on its back, however, and then threw himself on the
saddle.

" Now then, all ready ? "

'' Ay "— " Qui, yis ! "

And away they went at full stretch again on their
journey.

Thus day after day they travelled, and night after
night they laid them down to sleep under the trees of
the forest, until at length they reached the edge of the
Great Prairie.

It was a great, a memorable day in the life of Dick
Varley, that on which he first beheld the prairie — the
vast boundless prairie. He had heard of it, talked of
it, dreamed about it, but he had never — no, he had
never realized it. 'Tis always thus. Our conceptions
of things that wo have not seen are almost invariably
wrong. Dick's eyes glittered, and his heart swelled, and
his cheeks flushed, and his breath came thick and quick.

" There it is," he gasped, as the great rolling plain
broke suddenly on his enraptured gaze ; " that's it —
oh !— "

Dick uttered a yell that would have done credit to
the fiercest chief of the Pawnees, and being unable to
utter another word, he swung his cap in the air and

" Here,
believe

g in a

inished

he in-

sadtlle

on the

n their

it after

irees of

of the

.f Dick

e — the

ked of

lie had

sptions

-riably

id, and

quick.

plain

IS it —

Klit to
ible to
ir and

THE DOG CRUSOE.

sprang like an arrow from a bow over the mighty ocean
of grass. The sun had just risen to send a Hood of
golden glory over the scene, the horses were fresh, so
the elder hunters, gladdened by the beauty of all around
them, and inspired by the irresistible enthusiasm of
their young companion, gave the reins to the horses and
flew after him. It was a ghjrious gallop, that first
headlong dash over the boundless prairie of the " far

The prairies have often been compared, most justly,
to the ocean. There is the same wide circle of space
bounded on all sides by the horizon ; there is the same
swell, or undulation, or succession of long low unbroken
waves tliat marks the ocean when it is calm ; they are
canopied by the same pure sky, and swept by the same
untrammelled breezes. There are islands, too — chnnps
of trees and willow -bushes — which rise out of this
grassy ocean to break and relieve its uniformity ; and
these vary in size and niimbers as do the isles of ocean,
being numerous in some places, while in others they are
so scarce that the traveller does not meet one in a loiiij:
day's journey. Thousands of beautiful flowers decked
the greensward, and numbers of little birds hopped
about amonnf them.

" Now, lads," said Joe Blunt, reining up, " our troubles
begin to-day."

"Our ti'oublcs ? — our joys, you mean!" exclaimed
Dick Varley.

" P'r'aps I don't mean nothin' o' the soi^t," retorted
.loe. " Man wos never intended to swaller his joys
without a strong nuxtnr' o' troubles. \ s'pose he

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

Ye see we've got to the

couldn't stand 'em pure,
prairie now — "

" One blind hoss might see dat ! " interrupted Henri.

'•' An' we may or may not diskiver buttalo. An
water's scarce, too, so we'll need to look out for it pretty
sharp, I guess, else we'll lose our horses, in which case
we may as well give out at once. Besides, there's
rattlesnakes about in sandy places, we'll ha' to look out
for them ; an' there's badger holes, we'll need to look
sharp for them lest the horses put their feet in 'em ; an'
there's Injuns, who'll look out pretty sharp for us if
they once get wind that we're in them parts."

" Oui, yis. mes boys ; and there's rain, and tunder, and
lightin'," added Henri, pointing to a dark cloud which
was seen rising on the horizon ahead of them.

" It'll be rain," remarked Joe ; " but there's no thun-
der in the air jist now. We'll make for yonder clump
o' bushes and lay by till it's past."

Turning a little to the right of the course they had
been following, the hunters galloped along one of the
hollows between the prairie waves before mentioned, in
the direction of a clump of M'illows. Before reaching
it, however, they passed over a bleak and barren plain
where there was neither flower nor bird. Here they
were suddenly arrested by a most extraordinary sight —
at least it wos so to Dick Varley, who had never seen
the like before. This was a colony of what Joe called
" prairie-dogs." On first beholding them Crusoe uttered
a sort of half growl, half bark of surpi'ise, cocked his
tail and ears, and instantly prepared to charge ; but lie
glanced up at liis master first for permission. ()l)S(U'ving

THE DOG CRUSOE.

had

.f tlie

led, in

[clung

plain

they

•ht—

seen

jailed

Itered

id his

Lit he

I'ving

that his finger and his look coninianded " silence," he
dropped his tail at once and stepped to the rear. He
did not, however, cease to regard the prairie-dogs with
intense curiosity.

These remarkable little creatures have been egre-
giously niisnaiiied by the hunters of the west, for they
bear not the slin'htest resemblance to doo's, either in for-
mation or habits. Tliey are, in fact, the marmot, and in
size are little larger than scjuirrels, which animals they
resemble in some degree. They l)urrow under the light
soil, and throw it up in mounds like moles.

Thousands of them wei'e ruiminu' about amonu" their
dwellings when Dick first beheld them; Init tlie moment
they caught sight of the horsemen rising over the ridge
they set up a tremendous hubbub of consternation.
Each little beast instantly mounted guard on tlie top of
his house, and prepared, as it were, " to receive cavalry."

The most ludicrous thing about tliem was that, "al-
though the most timid and cowardly creatures in the
world, they seemed the most impertinent things that
ever lived ! Knowing that their holes afibrded them a
perfectly safe retreat, they sat close beside them; and as
the hunters slowly approached, they elevated their heads,
wagged their little tails, showcl their teeth, and chat-
tered at tliem like monkeys. Tl e nearer they came the
more angry and fui'ious did the prairie-dogs become,
until Dick Yarley almost fell oft' his horse with sup-
pressed laughter. Tliey let the hunters come close up,
waxing louder and louder in tlieir wrath ; but the in-
stant a hand was raisevl to tluow a stone or point a
gun, a thousand little heads dived into a thousand holes,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

and a thousand little tails wriofclcd for an instant in

t5t5'

the air — then a dead silence reigned over the deserted
scene.

" Bicn, them's have dive into de bo'-els of de eart',"
said Henri with a broad grin.

Presently a thousand noses appeared, and nervously
disappeared, like the wink of an eye. Then they ap-
peared again, and a thousand pair of eyes followed.
Instantly, like Jack in the box, they were all on the top
of their hillocks again, chattering and wagging their
little tails as vigorously as ever. You could not say
that you saiv tlicni jump out of their holes. Suddc ly,
as if by magic, they tuere out ; then Dick tossed up his
arms, and suddenly, u,-. if by magic, they were gone !

Their number was incredible, and their cities were
full of riotous activity. What their occupations were
the hunters could not ascertain, but it was perfectly
evident that they visited a great deal and gossiped
tremendou ly, for they ran about from house to house,
and sat chatting in groups ; but it was also observed
that they ne\ er went far from their own houses. Each
seemed to have a circle of acquaintance in the immediate
neighbourhood of his own residence, to which in case of
sudden danger he always fled.

But another thing about these prairie-dogs (perhaps,
considering their size, we should call them prairie-
doggies), another thing about them, wo say, was that
each doggie lived with nii owl, or, more correctly, an
owl lived with each dooo-io ! This is such an extraor-
dinary fdd that we could scarce hope that men would
believe us, were our statement not supported by dozens

THE DOG CRUSOE.

of trustworthy travellers who have visited and written
about these regions. The whole plain was covered with
these owls. Each hole seemed to be the residence of an
owl and a doggie, and these incongruous couples lived
together apparently in perfect harmony.

We have not been able to ascertain from travellers
v:hy the owls have gone to live with these doggies, so
we beg humbly to offer our own private opinion to the
reader. We assume, then, that owls find it absolutely
needful to have holes. Probably prairie-owls cannot dig
holes for themselves. Having discovered, however, a
race of little creatures that could, they very likely de-
termined to take forcible possession of the holes made
by them. Finding, no doubt, that when they did so
tlie doggies were too timid to object, and discovering,
moreover, that they were sweet, innocent little crea-
tures, the owls resolved to take them into partnership,
and so the thing was settled — that's how it came about,
no doubt of it !

There is a report that rattlesnakes live in these holes
also ; but we cannot certify our reader of the truth of
this. Still it is well to be acquainted with a report that
is current among the men of the backwoods. If it be
true, we are of opinion that the doggie's family is the
most miscellaneous and remarkable on the face of — or,
as Henri said, in tlie bo'-els of the earth.

Dick and his friends were so deeply absorbed in
watching these curious little creatures that they did not
oljsorve the rapid spread of the black clouds over the
sky. A few heavy drops of rain now warned them to
seek shelter, so wheeling round they dashed off at full

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

speed for the clump of willows, which they gained just
as the rain began to descend in torrents.

" Now, lads, do it slick. Off packs and saddles," cried
Joe Blunt, jumping from his horse. " I'll make a hut
for ye, right off*."

" A hut, Joe ! what sort o' hut can ye make here ? "
inquired Dick.

" Ye'U see, boy, in a minute."

" Ach ! lend me a hand here, Dick ; de bockle am
tight as de boss's own skin. Ah ! dere all right."

" Hallo ! what's this ? " exclaimed Dick, as Crusoe
advanced with something in his mouth. " I declare, it's
a bird o' some sort."

" A prairie-hen," remarked Joe, as Crusoe laid the
bird at Dick's feet ; " capital for supper."

" Ah ! dat chien is superb ! goot dog. Come here, I
vill clap you."

But Crusoe refused to be caressed. Meanwhile, Joe
and Dick formed a sort of beehive-looking hut by
bending down the stems of a tall bush and thrusting
their points into the ground. Over this they threw the
largest buffalo robe, and placed another on the ground
below it, on which they .iid their packs of goods.
These they further secured against wet by placing
several robes over them and a skin of parchment. Then
they sat down on this pile to rest, and consider what
should be done next.

" 'Tis a bad look-out," said Joe, shaking his head.

" I fear it is," replied Dick in a melancholy tone.

Henri said nothing, but he sighed deeply on looking
up at the sky, which was now of a uniform watery gray,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

while black clouds drove athwart it. The rain was
pouring in torrents, and the wind began to sweep it in
broad sheets over the plains, and under their slight cov-
ering, so that in a short time they were w^et to the skin.
The horses stood meekly beside them, with their tails
and heads equally pendulous ; and Crusoe sat before his
master, looking at him with an expression that seemed
to say, " Couldn't you put a stop to this if you were to
try ? "

" This '11 never do. I'll try to git up a fire," said
Dick, jumping up in desperation.

" Ye may save yerself the trouble," remarked Joe
dryly — at least as dryly as was possible in the circum-
stances.

However, Dick did try, but he failed signally. Every-
thincj; was soaked and saturated. There were no laroe
trees ; most of the bushes were green, and the dead ones
were soaked. The coverings were slobbery, the skins
they sat on were slobbery, the earth itself was slobbery ;
so Dick threw his blanket (which was also slobbery)
round his shoulders, and sat down beside his companions
to grin and bear it. As for Joe and Henri, they were
old hands and accustomed to such circumstances. From
the first they had resigned themselves to their fate, and
. wrapping their wet blankets round tliem sat down, side
by side, wisely to endure the evils that they could not
cure.

There is an old rhyme, by whom composed we know
not, and it matters little, which runs thus, —

" For every evil under tlie sun
There is a remedy — or there's none.

]

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

If there is — try and find it ;
If there isn't— never mind it ! "

There is deep wisdom here in small compass. The
principle involved deserves to be heartily recommended.
Dick never heard of the lines, but he knew the principle
well, so he began to " never mind it " by sitting down
beside his companions and whistling vociferously. As
the wind rendered this a difficult feat, he took to sing-
ing instead. After that he said, " Let's eat a bite, Joe,
and then go to bed."

"•Be all means," said Joe, who produced a mass of
dried deer's meat from a wallet.

" It's cold grub," said Dick, " and tough."
But the hunters' teeth were sharp and strong, so they
ate a hearty supper and A'ashed it down with a drink
of rain water collected from a pool on the top of their
hut. They now tried to sleep, for the night was ad-
vancing, and it was so dark that they could scarce see
their hands when held up before their faces. They sat
back to back, and thus, in the form of a tripod, began
to snooze. Joe's and Henri's seasoned frames would
have remained stiff as posts till morning ; but Dick's
body was young and pliant, so he hadn't been asleep a
few seconds when he fell forward into the mud and
effectually awakened the others. Joe gave a grunt,
and Henri exclaimed, " Ilah ! " but Dick was too sleepy
and miserable to say anything. Crusoe, however, rose
up to show his sympathy, and laid his wet head on his
master's knee as he resumed his place. This catastrophe
happened three times in the space of an hour, and by
the third time they were all awakened up so thoroughly

I i

THE DOG CRU80E.

that they gave up the attempt to sleep, r.nd amused
each other by recounting their hunting experiences and
telling stories. So engrossed did they become that day
broke sooner than they had expected, and just in pro-
portion as the gray light of dawn rose higher into the
eastern sky did the spirits of tliese weary men rise
within their soaking bodies.

'! ''

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CHAPTER VII.

The " wallcring" pcciiUaj'ities of buffalo bulls— The first buffalo hunt and Us
consequences — Crusoe comes to the rescue — Pawnees discovered — A monster
buffalo hunt — Joe acts the jmrt of ambassador.

FORTUNATELY the clay that succeeded the dreary
night described in the last chapter was warm
and magnificent. The sun rose in a blaze of splendour,
and filled the atmosphere with steam from the moist
earth.

The unfortunates in the wet camp were not slow to
avail themselves of his cheering rays. They hung up
everything on the bushes to dry, and by dint of extreme
patience and cutting out the comparatively dry hearts
of several pieces of wood, they lighted a fire and boiled
some rain-water, which was soon converted into soup.
This, and the exercise necessary for the performance of
these several duties, warmed and partially dried them ;
so that when they once more mounted their steeds and
rode away, they were in a state of comparative comfort
and in excellent spirits. The only annoyance was the
clouds of mosquitoes and largo flies that assailed men
and horses whenever they checked their speed.

" I tell ye wot it is," said Joe Blunt, one fine morning
about a week after they had begun to cross the prairie.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" it's my 'pinion tliat we'll come on buffaloes soon. Them
tracks are fresh, an' yomler's one o' their wallers that's
bin used not long aofone."

"I'll go have a look at it,' cried ])ick, trotting away
as he spoke.

Everything in these vast prairies was new to Dick
Varley, and he was kept in a constant state of excite-
ment during the first week or two of his journey. It
is true he was quite fandliar with the names and habits
of all the animals that dwelt there; for many a time and
oft had he listened to the " yarns " of the hunters and
trappers of the Mustang Valley, when the}^ returned
laden with rich furs from their periodical hunting ex-
peditions. But this knowledge of his only served to
whet his curiosity and his desire to see the denizens of
the prairies with his own eyes ; and now that his wish
was accomplished, it greatly increased the pleasures of
his journey.

Dick had just reached the " wallow " referred to by
Joe Blunt, and had reined up his steed to observe it
leisurely, when a faint hissing sound reached his ear.
Looking quickly back, he observed his two companions
crouching on the necks of their horses, and slowly de-
scending into a hollow of the prairie in front of them,
as if they wished to bring the rising ground between
them and some object in advance. Dick instantly fol-
lowed their example, and was soon at their heels.

" Ye needn't look at the waller," whispered Joe, " for
a' tother side o' the ridge there's a bull ivcdlerin'."

"■ Ye don't mean it ! '' exclaimed Dick, as they all dis-
mounted and picketed their horses to the plain.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

ii !

" Oai," said Henri, tumbling oft' his horse, while a
broad grin overspread his good-natured countenance,
" it is one fact I One buftalo bull be wollerin' like a
enormcirous liog. Also, dere be t'ousands o' buffaloes
fardor on."

" Can yo trust yer dog keepin' back ? " inquired Joe,
with a dubious glance at Crusoe.

" Trust him ! Ay, I wish I was as sure o' myself."

" Look to yer primin', then, an' we'll have tongues
and marrow bones for supper to-night, I'se warrant.
Histi down on yer knees and go softly. We might
ha' run them down on horseback, but it's bad to wind
yer beasts on a trip like this, if ye can help it ; an' it's
about as easy to stalk them. Leastways, we'll try.
Lift yer head slowly, Dick, an' don't show more nor the
half o t above the ridge."

Dick elevated his head as directed, and the scene that
met his view was indeed well calculated to send an
electric shock to the heart of an ardent sportsman.
The vast plain beyond was absolutely blackened with
countless herds of buPi'aloos, which were browsing on
the rich grass. They were still so far distant that their
bellowing, and the trampling of their myi'iad hoofs, only
reached the hunters like a faint murmur on the breeze.
Tn the immediate foreground, however, there was a
group of about half-a-dozen buil'alo cows feeding quietly,
and in the midst of them an enormous old bull was
enjo3 ing hiniself in his wallow. The animals, towards
whicii our Iiunters now crept with murderous nitent,
are the fiercest and the most ponderous of the ruminat-
inu' inhabitants nf tlie western wilderness. The name of

THE DOG CRUSOE.

hittfdlo, howi^vcr, is not correct. Thv animal is the hii^ov,
and bears no rcseniLlance whatever to the hiitt'alo pro-
per ; but as the hunters of the far west, and, indeed,
travellers generally, have adopted tlie misnomer, we bow
to the authority of custom and adopt it too.

Buflaloes roam in countless thousands all ovei* the
North American prairies, from the Hudson Bay Ter-
ritories, north of Canada, to tlie shores of the Gulf of
Mexico.

The advance of white men to the west lias driven
them to the prairies between the Missouri and the Rocky
Mountains, and has'somewliat dhninished their nundiers;
but even thus diminished, they are still innumerabh^ in
the more distant plains. Their colour is dark brown,
but it varies a good deal with the seasons. Tlu' haii'
or fur, from its great length in winter and spring and
exposure to the weather, turns cpiite light but Avhen
the winter coat is shed otl", the new growth is a beau-
tiful dark brown, almost approaching to jet-black. In
form the butlalo somewhat resembles the ox, but its
head and shoulders are nnich larger, and are covered
with a profusion of long shaggy hair which adds greatly
to the fierce aspect of the animal. It has a larger hump
on uhe shouhler, and its fore-quarters are much larger,
in proportion, than thr hind-({uarters. The horns are
short and thick, the hoofs are cloven, and the tail is
shoi't, wiib a tuft of liair at the extremity.

It is scarcely possible to conceive a wilder or more
ferocious and terrible monster than a b lif'alo bull. He
often grows to the enormous weight of two thousand
pounds. His lion-like mane falls in shaggy confusion

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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quite over his head and shoulders, down to the ground.
When he is Avounded he l)eeomes imbued with the spirit
of a tiger : he stamps, bellows, roars, and foams forth
his rage with glaring eyes and steaming nostrils, and
charges furiously at man and horse with utter reckless-
ness. Fortunately, however, he is not naturally pug-
nacious, and can be easily thrown into a sudden panic.
Moreover, the peculiar position of his eye renders this
creature not so terrible as he would otherwise be to the
hunter. Owing to the stiff structure of the neck, and
the "sunken, dow^nward-looking eyeball, the buffalo can-
not, without an effort, see beyond the direct line of
vision presented to the habitual carriage of his head.
When, therefore, he is wounded, and charges, he does so
in a straight line, so that his pursuer can leap easily
out of his way. The joace of the bulfhlo is clumsy, and
(ipjiarcntly slow, yet, when chased, he dailies away over
the plains in blind blundei'ing terror, at a rate that
leaves all but good horses far behind. He cunnot ]:eep
the pace up, however, and is usunJly soon overtaken.
Were the buffalo capable of the same alert and agile
motions of head and eye peculiar to the deoi* or wild
horse, in addition to his " box'ine rage," he would bf the
most formidable brute on earth. There is no object,
perhaps, so terrible as the headlong advance of a herd
of these animals when thoroughly aroused by terror.
Tliey care not for their necks. All danger in front is
forgotten, or not seen, in the terror of that from which
they tly. No thundering cataract is more tremendously
irresistible than the black ludlowing torrent which some-
times pours through the narrow defiles of the Rocky

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Mountains, or sweeps like a roaring flood over the
trembling plains.

The wallowing, to which we have referred, is a luxury
usually indulged in during the hot months of sunnner,
wlien the buffaloes are tormented by flies, and heat, and
drought. At this season they seek the low grounds in
the prairies where there is a little stagnant water lying
amongst the grass, and the ground underneath, being
saturated, is soft. The leader of the herd, a shaggy old
bull, usually takes upon himself to prepare the wallow.

It was a rugged monster of the largest size that did
so on the present occasion, to the intense delight of
Dick Varley, who begged Joe to lie still and watch the
operation before trying to slioot one of the buffalo
cows. Joe consented with a nod, and the four spec-
tjitors — for Crusoe was as much taken up with the
prc/ceedings as any of them — crouched in the grass, and
looked on.

Comiijg up to the swampy spot, the old bull gave a
grunt of satisfaction, and going down on one knee,
plunged his short thick horns into the mud, tore it up,
and cast it aside. Having repeated this several times,
he plunged his head in, and brought it forth saturated
with dirty water and bedaubed with lumps of mud,
through which his fierce C3^es gazed, with a ludicrous
expression of astonishment, straight in the direction of
the hunters, as if he meant to say, " I've done it that
time, and no mistake!" The other bufl'aloos seemed to
tliink HO too, for they camo up and looked on with an
expression tliat seemed to say, " Well done, old fellow ;
try that again ! "

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

The old fellow did trv it aciain, and aoain, and ag-ain,
plunging, and raniniino-, and tearing up the earth, until
he formed an excavation laroe enough to contain his
huge body. In this bath he laid hiii self comfortably
down, and began to roll and wallow about until he
mixed up a trough full of thin soft mud, which
completely covered him. When he came out of the
hole there was scarcely an atom of his former self
visible !

The coat of mud thus put on by bulls is usually per-
mitted by them to dry, and is not finally got rid of
until long after, when oft-repeated rollings on the grass
and washings by rain at length clear it away.

When the old bull vacated this delectable bath,
another bull, scarcely if at all less ferocious-looking,
steppe d forward to take his turn ; but he was inter-
rupted by a volley from the hunters, which scattered
the animals right and left, and sent the mighty herds
in the distance Hying over the prairie in wild terror.
The very turmoil of their own mad flight added to their
panic, and the continuous thunder of their hoofs was
heard until the last of them disappeared on the horizon.
The family party which had been fired at, however, did
not escape so well. Joe's rifle wounded a fat young
cow, and Dick Varley brought it down. Henri had
done his best, but as the animals were too far distant
for his limited vision, he missed the cow he fired at, and
hit the young bull whose bath had been interrupted
The others scattc^red and lied,

" Well done, Dick," exclaimed Joe Blunt, as they all
ran up to the cow that had fallen. " Your first shot at

i . li .: 1

again,
, until
in his
rtably
itil he
which
3f the
}r self

ly per-
rid of

grass

i!y all
not at

THP] DOG CRUSOE.

the bufiklo was a good un. Come, now, an' I'll show ye
how to cut it up an' cany ott' the tit-bits."

" Ah, uion dear olc Ijull ! " exclaimed Henri, gazing
after the animal which he had wounded, and which was
now limping .slowly away. " You is not worth goin'
after. Farewell — adieu."

" He'll be toii'4'h enouu'h, I warrant," said Joe ; " an'
we've more meat here nor we can lift."

" But woiddu't it be as well to put the poor brute
out o' pain <'" suggested Dick.

"Oh, he'll die soon enough," ^-eplied J-oc, tucking up
his sleeves and (ha^vinl•• his lonLj huntinij'-knife.

Hick, however, was not satisfied with this way of
looking' at it. Saving that he would be back in a few
minutes, he reloaded his rifle, and calKng Crusoe to his
side, walked quickly after the woun<led Ijull, which was
now Idd from view in a hollow of the plaiii.

In a few miimtes lie came m sight of it, and ran
for^vard with his rifle in readiness.

" Down Crusoe," he whispered ; " wait for me here."

Crusoe crouched in the o-rass instantlv, and Dick
advanced. As he came on, the bull observed him, jiiid
turned round bellowing with rage and pain to receive
him. 'i'lui aspect of the brute o)i a near view was so
terrible that Dick involuntai'ily stopped too, and gazed
with a miugled feehng of wonder and awe, while it
l)ristlc<l with passion, and blood-streaked foam dropped
from its open jaws, and its eyes glared furiously.
Seeing tl at Dick <lid not advance, the bull chnrged him
with a tv/riific roar; but tlie youth had Arm nerves,
an<l although the I'uah of .such a savage creature at fuii

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

speed was calculated to try the courao'e of any man,
especially one who had never seen a biillalo bull befoi'e,
Dick did not lose presence of mind. He remembered
the many stories he had listened to of this very thing
that was now happening- ; so, crushing down his excite-
ment as well as he could, he cocked his rifle and
awaited the charge. He knew that it was of no use to
fire at the head of the advancing foe, as the thickness
of the skull, together with the matted hair on the fore-
head, rendered it impervious to a bullet.

When the bull was within a yard of him he leaped
lio-htlv to one side and it passed. Just as it did so,
Dick aimed at its lioart and fired, but his knowledge of
the creature's anatomy was not yet correct. The ball
entered the shoulder too hiu'h, and the bull, checkino;
himself as well as he could in his headlong rush, turned
round and made at Dick again.

The failure, coupled with the excitement, proved too
much for Dick ; he could not resist discharging his
second barrel at the brute's head as it came on. He
miirht as well have fired at a brick M^all. It shook its
shaggy front, and with a hideous bellow thundered for-
ward. Again Dick sprang to one side, but in doing so
a tuft of grass or a stone caught his foot, and he fell
heavily to the ground.

Up to this point Crusoe's admir.ible training liad
nailed him to the spot where he had been left, although
the twitching of every fibre in his body and a low con-
tinuous whine sIiowimI 1u)W gladly he would have hailed
permission to join in the combat; but the instant he
saw his m^ister down, and the bufi'alo turning to charge

THE DOG CRUSOE.

a<^"ain, ho spmno' forward witli a roar tliat would have
done 'jredit to his bovine enemy, and seized liini hy the
nos(^ So viii'orous was tlie rush that lie well-ni<jh
pr.iled the bull down on its side. One toss of its head,
iiowever, sent Crusoe high into the air ; but it acconi-
|)lished this feat at the expense of its nose, which was
torn and lacerated by the dog's teeth.

Scarcelv had Crusoe touched the jji-ound, which he
did with a sounding thump, than he sprang up and
flew at his adversary again. This time, however, he
adopted the plan of barking furiously and biting by
rapid yet terrible snaps as he found opportunity, thus
keeping the bull entirely engrossed, and affording Dick
an opportunity of reloading his rille, which he was not
slow to do. Dick then stepped close up, and while the
t;WO combatants were roaring in each other's faces, he
shot the bufi'alo through the heart. It fell to the earth
with a deep groan.

Crusoe's rage instantly vanished on beholding this,
and he seemed to be filled with tumultuous joy at Ins
master's escape, for he gambolled I'ound him, and wdiined
and fawned upon him in a manner that could not be
misunderstood.

" Good dog : thankee, my pnp,' said Dick, patting
Crusoe's head as he stooped to brush the dust from his
lecfo'infcs. " I don't know what would ha' become o' mc

or? O

but for your hel]i, Crusoe.'

Crusoe turiKMl his head a little to one si<lo, wa^•^•od
his tail, and looked !it Dick with an expression that
said (|uite jilainly, " I'd die for you, T would — not
once, or twice, but ten times, fifty times if need be —

'■9

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THE DUG CliUSOE.

and that not merely to save your life, but even to
please you."

Thero is no doubt whatever that Crusoe felt some-
thing of this sort. The love of a Newfoundland dog to
its master is beyond calculation or expression. He who
once u'ains such love carries the do<>'s life in his hand.
But let him who reads note well, and remember that
there is only one coin that can purchase such love, and
that is kindness. The coin, too, must be genuine. Kind-
ness merely expressed will not do, it must be felt.

*' Hallo, boy, ye've bin i' the wars ! " exclaimed Joe,
raisiuii' himself from his task as Dick and Crusoe re-
turned.

" You look more like it than I do," retorted Dick,
lauo'hinfj.

This was true, for cutting up a buli'alo carcass with
no other instrument than a large knife is no easy
matter. Yet western hunters and Indians can do it
without cleaver or saw, in a way that would surprise
a civilized butcher not a little. Joe was covered with
blood up to the elbows. His hair, happening to have
a knack of iiettin*]^ into his eves, had been so often
brushed off with bloody hands, that his whole visage
was speckled with gore, and his dress was by no means
innuacnlatc.

While Dick related his adventure, or 77? ?*«-ad venture,
with the bull, Joe and Henri completed the cutting out
of the most delicate portions of the bu Halo— namely,
the hump on its shoulder — 'Which is a choicer piece,
much finer than the best b(>ef — and the tongue, and
a few other parts. The tongues of buffaloes are supe-

THE DOG CRUSOE.

lior to those of domestic cattle. When all was ready
the meat was slung across the back of the pack-horse ;
and the party, remounting their horses, continued their
journey, having tirst cleansed themselves as well as they
could in the rather dirty waters of an old wallow.

" See," said Henri, turning to Dick and pointing to a
circular spot of green as they i-odo along, " that is one
old dry waller."

'• Ay," remarked Joe ; " after the waller dries, it be-
comes a ring o' greener grass than the rest o' the plain,
as ye see. 'Tis said the first hunters used to wonder
greatly at these myster'ous circles, and they invented
all sorts o' stories to account for 'em. Some said they
wos fairy-rings, but at last they comed to know they
wos nothin' more nor less than places where buffaloes
wos used to waller in. It's often seemed to me that if
we knowed the raisons o' things, we wouldn't be so
much puzzled wi' them as we are."

The truth of this last remark was so self-evident
and incontrovertible that it elicited no reply, and the
three friends rode on for a considerable time in silence.

It was now past noon, and they were thinking of
cnlling a halt for a short rest to the horses and a pipe
to themselves, when Joe was heard to give vent to one
of those peculiar hisses that always accompanied either
a surprise or a caution. In the present case it indi-
cated both.

" What now, Joe ? "

•' Injuns ! " ejaculated Joe.

" Eh ! fat }-ou say ? Ou is dey ? "

Crusoe at this moment uttered a low cfrowl. Ever

1 1

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

since the day he had been partially roasted he had
maintained a rooted antipathy to Red-men. Joe im-
mediately dismounted, and placing his ear to the ground
listened intently. It is a curious fact that by placing
the ear close to the ground sounds can be heard dis-
tinctly which could not be heard at all if the listener
were to maintain an erect position.

" They're arter the buffalo," said Joe, rising, " an' I
think it's likely they're a band o' Pawnees, Listen an'
ye'U hear their shouts quite plain."

Dick and Henri immediately lay down and placed
their ears to the ground.

" Now, me hear noting," said Henri, jumping up, " but
me ear is like me eyes — ver' short-sighted."

" I do hear something," said Dick as he got up, " but
the beating o' my own heart makes row enough to spoil
my hearin'."

Joe Blunt smiled. " Ah ! lad, ye're young, an' yer
blood's too hot yet ; but bide a bit — you'll cool down
soon. I wos like you once. Now, lads, what think
ye we should do ? "

" You know best, Joe."

" Oui, nodoubtedly."

" Then wot I advise is that we gallop to the broken
sand hillocks ye see yonder, get behind them, an' take
a peep at the Redskins, If they are Pawnees, we'll go
up to them at once ; if not, we'll hold a council o' war
on the spot."

Having arranged this, they mounted and hastened
towards the hillocks in question, which they reached
after ten minutes' gallop at full stretch. The sandy

THE DOG CRUSOE.

mounds afforded them concealment, an«l enaMcnl tliom
to watch the proceedings of the savages in the plain
below. The scene was the most curious and exciting
that can be conceived. Tlie centre of the plain before
them was crowded with hundreds of buffaloes, which
were dashing about in tlie most frantic state of alarm.
To whatever point they galloped they were met by
yelling savages on horseback, who could not have
been fewer in numbers than a thousand, all being-
armed with lance, bow, and quiver, and mounted on
active little horses. The Indians had completely sur-
rounded the herd of buffaloes, and were now advancing
steadily towards them, gradually narrowing the circle,
and whenever the terrified animals endeavoured to
break through the line, they rushed to that particular
spot in a body, and scared them back again into the
centre.

Thus they advanced until they closed in on their
prey and formed an unbroken circle round them, wdiilst
the poor brutes kept eddying and surging to and fro
in a confused mass, hooking and climbing upon each
other, and bellowing furiously. Suddenly the horse-
men made a rush, and the work of destruction beoan.
The tremendous turmoil raised a cloud of dust that
obscured the field' in some places, and hid it from our
hunters' view. Some of the Indians galloped round
and round the circle, sending their arrows whizzing up
to the feathers in the sides of the fattest cows. Others
dashed fearlessly into the midst of the black heaving
mass, and, with their long lances, pierced dozens of
them to the heart. In many instances the buffaloes.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

infuriated by wounds, turned fiercely on their assailants
nntl j^^ored tht; horses to death, in which cases the men
liad to trust to their nind)le legs for safety. Some-
times a horse got jammed in the centre of the sway-
ing mass, and could neither advance nor retreat. Then
the savage rider leaped upon the buffaloes' backs, and
springing from one to another, like an acrobat, gained
the outer edge of the circle ; not failing, however, in his
strang3 ilight, to pierce with his lance several of the
fattest- of his stepping-stones as he sped along.

A few of the herd succeeded in escaping from the
blood and dust of this desperate battle, and made off
over the plains ; but they were" quickly overtaken, and
the lance or the arrow brought them down on the green
turf. INlany of the dismounted riders were chased by
bulls ; but they stepped lightly to one side, and, as the
animals passed, drove their arrows deep into their sides.
Thus the tumultuous war went on, amid thundering
tread, and yell, and bellow, till the green plain was
transformed into a sea of blood and mire, and every
butlalo of the herd was laid low.

It is not to be supposed that such reckless warfare
is invariably waged without damage to the savages.
]\Iany were the wounds and bruises received that day,
and not a few bones were broken, but happily no lives
were lost.

" Now, lads, now's our time. A bold and fearless
look's the best at all tim(\s. Don't look as if yo
(loubted their friendshi}) ; and mi. id, wotever ye do,
don't use yer arms. Follow me."

Saying this, Joe Blunt leapcid on his horse, and,

THE ])()(; CKUSUE.

l)OUiKliiif( over tlie rklgo at full speed, galloped headluiig
jici'oss the plain.

The savages observed tlie sti'aiigors iiistaiitly, and a
loud yell announced the fact as they assenihU'd I'l'oni
all parts of the field brandishing their bows and s])ears.
Joe's quick eye soon distinguish('(l their chi(d', towards
whom he galloped, still at full speed, till within a yard
or two of his horse's liead ; then he reined up suddenly.
So rapidly did »!()(' antl his coiurjides a])pr()ach, and so
instantaneously <lid they pull u)», that their steeds were
thrown almost on theii* haunches.

The Indian chief did not move a muscle, lb' was
a tall, powerful savage,' almost naked, and mounted on
a coal-black charger, which he sat with the ease of a
man accustome(l to ridt; from infancy. He was, indee<l,
a splendid-looking savage, but his face wore a dark
frown, for, although he and his band had visited the
settlements and tratlicked with the fur-ti'aders on the
Missouri, he did not love the " Tale-faces," whom ho
regarded as intruders on the Imnting-grounds of liis
fathers, and the peace that existed Ijetween them at
that time was of a \ery fragile character. Indeed, it
was deemed by iho traders impossible to travel through
the Indian country at that period except in strong force,
and it was the very boldness of the j)resent attempt that
secured to our hunters anything like a civil reception.

Joe, who could sp(>ak the Pawn(H3 tongue iluently,
began by explaining the object of Ids visit, and spoke
of the presents which he had brought for the gr(Mit
chief; Imt it was evident that his words made liltle
impression As ho discoursed to them the savages

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

I '

crowded round the little party, and began to handle
and examine their dresses and weapons with a degree
of rudeness that caused Joe considerable anxiety.

" Mahtawa believes that the heart of the Pale-face
is true," said the savage, when Joe paused, " but he
does not choose to make peace. The Pale-faces are
grasping. They never rest. They turn their eyes to
the great mountains and say, ' There we will stop.'
But even there they will not stop. They are never
satisfied ; Mahtawa knows them well."

This speech sank like a death-knell into the hearts
of the hunters, for they knew that if the savages refused
to make peace, they would scalp them all and appro-
priate their goods. To make things worse, a dark-
visaged Indian suddenly caught hold of Henri's rifle,
and, ere he was aware, had plucked it from his hand.
'J'lie blood rushed to the Q-io-antic hunter's forehead, and
he was on the point of springing at the man, when Joe
said in a deep quiet voice, —

" Be still, Henri. You will but hasten death."

At this moment there was a movement in the out-
skirts of the circle of horsemen, and another chief rode
into the midst of them. He was evidently higher in
rank than Mahtawa, for he spoke authoritatively to the
crowd, and stepped in before him. The hunters drew
little comfort from the ap])earance of his face, how-
ever, for it scowled upon them. He was not so power-
ful a man as ^lahtawa, but he was more gracefully
formed, and had a more noble and commanding coun-
tenance.

" Have the Pale-faces no wigwams on the great river

THE DOG CHUSOi:.

that they should come to spy out tlie lands of the
Pawnee <' " he demanded.

" We hav^> not come to .vpy your country," answered
Joe, raising himsolf proudly as he spoke, and taking ott*
his cap. " We have come with a message from the gicat
chief of the Pale-faces, who lives in the village far
Ijeyond the great river where the sun rises, lie says,
Why .should the Pale-face and the lled-man fight ^
They are brothers. The same j\lanitou * watches over
both. The i'ale-faces have more beads, and guns, and
olankcts, and knives, and veiniilion than they recpiire ;
they wisli to mvc some of these things for the skins
and furs which the Red-man does not know what to
do with. The great chief of the Pale-faces lias sent me
to say, Why should we fight ? let us smoke the pipe of
peace."

At the mention of beads and blankets the face of the
wily chief brightened for a moment. Then he said
sternly, —

" The heart of the Pale-face is not true. He has
come here to trade for himself. San-it-sa-rish lias eyes
that can see ; they are not shut. Are not these your
goods ? " The chief pointed to the pack-horse as he spoke.

" Trappers do not take their goods into the lieart
of an enemy's camp," returned Joe. " San-it-sa-rish is
wise, and will understand this. These are gifts to the
chief of the Pawnees. There are more awaiting hikii
when the pipe of peace is smoked. I have said. What
niessaufe shall we take back to the iireat chief of the
Pale-faces ? "

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TIr' Tndiiin nanio fi)r God.

THE DOr; CRUSOE.

San-it-sa-ri.sli was evidently mollified.

" The luintin<if-field is not the council tent," he said.
" The Pale-faces will n'o with us to our village."

(Jf course Joe was too glad to agree to this proposal,
but he now deemed it politic to display a little tiruniess.

" We cannot go till our rifle is rcstortid. It will not
do to go back and tell the great chief of the Pale-faces
that the Pawnees are thieves."

The chief frowned angrily.

" The Pawnees are true ; they are not thieves. They
choose to look at the rifle of the Pale-face. It shall be
returned."

The rifle was instantlv restored, and then our hunters
rode off with the Indians towards their camp. On the
way they met hundreds of women and children going
to the scene of the great hunt, for it was their special
duty to cut up the meat and carry it into camp. The
men, considering that they had done quite enough in
killing it, returned to smoke and eat away the fatigues
of the chase.

As they rode along, Dick Varley observed that some
of the " braves," as Indian warriors are styled, were
eating pieces of the bloody livers of the buffaloes in a
raw state, at which he expressed not a little disgust.

" All, boy ! you're green yet," remarkinl Joe lUuiit in
an undertone. "IVIayhap ye'll be thankful to do that
same yerself some day."

" Well, I'll not refuse to try when it is needful," said
Dick with a laugh ; " meanwhile I'm content to see the
Redskins do it, Joe ijlunt."

CHAPTKU VIII.

Dick and li in friends visit the Inditnis and ki, niduti voiidcrs — Cnixnr, (no,
cxf^cricncis a few surprises, iind IkicIhh Indian dnijs a ka/ion — An liidtan.
dandii—A foot-race,

THE Pawnee village, at which they soon arrived, was
.situated in the midst of a most interesting and
picturesque scene.

It occupied an extensive plain which sloped gently
down to a creek,* whose winding course was mark(Ml
by a broken line of wood, here and there iniLiNperscl
with a line clump of trees, between the trunks of which
the blue waters of a hikij sparkled in the distance.
Hundreds of tents or "lodges" of buflalo-sk ins covered
the ground, and thousands of Indians — men, women,
and children — moved about the busy scene. Some
were sitting in their lodges, lazily smoking their pipes.
But these were chietly old and iniirm veterans, for all
the young men had gone to the hunt which we have just
described. The women were stooping over their fires,
busily preparing maize and meat for their husbands
and brothers ; while myriads of littli; brown and naked
children romped about everywhere, filling the air with
their yells and screams, which were only equallccl, if not
surpassed, by the yelping dogs that seemed iiniunu'rable.
* In Aiucricu small rivirs or livulota uio tunucJ "ciucks."

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THE DOG CllUSOPl

Far as the eye could reach were seen scattered herds
of liorses. These were tended by little boys who were
totally destitute of clothing, and who seemed to enjoy
with infinite zest the pastime of shooting-practice with
little bows and arrows. No wonder that these Indians
become expert bowmen. There were urchins there,
scarce two feet high, with round bullets of bodies and
short spindle-shanks, who could knock blackbirds off
the trees at every shot, and cut the heads off the taller
flowers with perfiict certainty ! There was much need,
too, for the utmost proficiency they could attain, for the
very existence of the Indian tribes of the prairies depends
on their success in hunting the buffalo.

There are hundreds and thousands of North American
savages who would undoubtedly perish, and their tribes
become extinct, if the buffaloes were to leave the prairies
or die out. Yet, although animals are absolutely essen-
tial to their existence, they pursue and slay them with
improvident recklessness, sometimes killing hundreds of
them merely for the sake of the sport, the tongues, and
the marrow bones. In the bloody hunt described in the
last chapter, however, the slaughter of so many was not
wanton, because the village that had to be supplied with
food was large, and, just previous to the hunt, they had
been living on somewhat reduced allowance. Even the
blackbirds shot by the brown-bodied urchins before men-
tioned had been thankfully put into the pot. Thus
precarious is the supply of food among the Red-men,
who on one day are starving, and the next are revelling
in superabundance.

But to return to our story. At one end of this vil-

THE I)0(J cni^soK.

lage the creek sprang ovc^r a Icclo-u of rock in a low cas-
cade and opened out into a beautiful lake, tlie bosom
of which was studded with small islands. Here were
thousands of those smaller species of wild water-fowl
which were either too brave or too foolish to be scared
away by the noise of the camp. And liere, too, dozens
of children were sporting on the beach, or paddling
about in their light l)arL canoes.

" Isn't it strange," remarked Dick to Henri, as they
passed among the tents towards the centre of the vil-
lage — " isn't it strange that them Injuns- should be so
fond o' fightin', when they've got all they can want — a
fine country, lots o' bufialo, an', as far as I can see,
happy liomes ? "

" Qui, it is remarkaibel, vraiment. Bot dey do more
love war to peace. Dey loves to be excit-ed, I s'pose."

" Humph ! One would think the hunt we seed a little
agone would be excitement enough. But, I say, that
nmst be the chief's tent, by the look o't."

Dick was right. The horsemen pulled up and dis-
mounted opposite the principal chief's tent, which was
a larfjer and more eleoaiit structure than the others.
Meanwhile an immense concourse of women, children,
and dogs gathered round tlie strangers, and M'hile the
latter yelped their dislike to white men, the former
chattered continuously, as they discussed the appear-
ance of the strangers and their errand, which latter soon
became known. An end was put to this by 8an-it-sa-
rish desiring the hunters to enter the tent, and spread-
ing a buffalo robe for them to sit on. Two braves
carried in their packs, and then led away their horses.

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All this time Crusfx! liad kept as closo as possil)!© to
his master's side, I'reUii;^' oxtreincly uiiconifortablo in tlie
midst of such a stran^o crowd, the more especially that
the ill-lookin-^' Indian curs jj^avc him expressive looks
of hatred, and exhibited some dcsirt^ to rush upon him
in a body, so that he had to k«'ep a sharp look-out
all round him. When therefore ])ick entered the tent,
Crusoe endeavoured to «lo so alonj;- with him ; but he
was met by a ]»l(jw on the nose from an old sf[uaw, who
scolded him in a slu'ill voice and bade him beL>'one.

Either our hero's knowledi-'c of the Indian lanouaiie
was insufficient to enable him to understand the onler,
or he had resolved not to obey it, for instead of retreat-
ing, he drew a deep i^in-gliiip- Invath, curled his nose,
and displayed a row of teeth that caused the old woman
to draw back in alarm. Crusoe's was a forgiving spirit.
1 istant that opposition ceased he forgot the injury,
and was meekly advancing, wdien Dick held up his
linger.

" Go outside, pup, and wait."

Crusoe's tail drooped ; with a deep sigh he turned
and left the tent. He took up a position near the en-
trance, however, and sat down resignedly. So meek,
indeed, did the poor dog look that six mangy-looking
curs felt tlicir dastardly hearts emboldened to make a
rush at him with boisterous yells.

Crusoe did not rise. Ho did not even condescend to
turn his hoatl toward them ; but he looked at them out
of the corner of his dark eye, wrinkled — very slightly
— the skin of his nose, exhibited two beautiful fangs,
and gave utterance to a soft remark, that might be de-

THE DOG CRUSOE.

vo a

ngs,
de-

scribed as quiet, deep-toned gurgling. It wasn't much,
but it was more than enough for the valiant six, who
paused and snarled violently.

It was a peculiar trait of Crusoe's gentle nature that,
the moment any danger ceased, he resumed his expres-
sion of nonchalant gravity. The expression on this
occasion was misunderstood, however ; and as about two
dozen additional yelping dogs had joined the ranks of
the enemy, they advanced in close order to the attack,

Crusoe still sat (piict, and kept his head high; but he
looked at them again, and exhibited four' fangs for their
inspection. Among the pack there was one Indian dog
of laro-o size — almost as large as Crusoe Ir'mself — which
kept well in the rear, and apparently urged the lesser
dogs on. The little dogs didn't object, for little dogs
are generally the most pugnacious. At this big dog
Crusoe directed a pointed glance, but said nothing.
Meanwhile a particularly small and vicious cur, with a
mere rag of a tail, crept round by the back of the tent,
and coming upon Crusoe in rear, snapped at his tail
sharply, and then fled shrieking with terror and sur-
prise, no doubt, at its own temerity,

Crusoe did not bark ; he seldom barked ; he usually
either said nothing, or gave utterance to a prolon^^ed
roar of indignation of the most terrible character, with
barks, as it were, mingled through it. It somewhat
resembled that peculiar and well-known species of thun-
der, the prolonged roll of which is marked at short
intervals in its course by cannon-like cracks. It was
a continuous, but, so to speak, knotted roar.

On receiving the snap, Crusoe gave forth the roar

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100

THE DOr, CRUSOE.

with a majesty and power that scattered the pugnacious
front rank of the enemy to the winds. Tliose tluit still
remained, half stupifie<l, he leaped over with a liuge
bound, and alijjfhted, fanjjfs first, on the back of the bii;
dog. There was one liideous yell, a muffled scramble of
an instant's duration, and the big dog lay dead upon
the plain !

It was an awful thing to do, but Crusoe evidently
felt that the peculiar circumstances of the case required
that an example should be made ; and to say truth, all
things considered, we cannot blame him. The news
must have been carried at once through the canine por-
tion of the camp, for Crusoe was never interfered with
again after that.

Dick witnessed this little incident ; but he observed
that the Indian chief cared not a straw about it, and as
his dog returned quietly and sat down in its old place
he took no notice of it either, but continued to listen
to the explanations which Joe gave to the chief, of the
desire of the Pale-faces to be friends with the Red-men.

Joe's eloquence would have done little for him on
this occasion had his hands been empty, but he followed
it up by opening one of his packs and displaying the
glittering contents before the equally glittering eyes of
the chief and his squaws.

" These," said Joe, " are the gifts that the great chief
of the Pale-faces sends to tlie great chief of the Pawnees.
And he bids me say that there are many more things in
his stores which will be traded for skins with the Red-
men, when they visit him ; and he also says that if the
Pawnees will not steal horses any more from the Pale-

THE DOU CRUSOE.

101

faces, tliey shall receive gifts of knives, and guns, and
powder, and blankets every year."

" Wall 1 " ijrunted the chief ; " it is o;nod. Tlie cfreat
eliief is wise. We will sniokc the pipe of peace."

The things that afforded so much satisfaction to San-
it-sa-rish were the veriest trifles. Penny looking-glasses
in yrllow gilt tin frames, beac^i of various colours, needles,
cheap scissors and knives, vermilion paint, and coarse
scarlet cloth, etc. They wore of priceless value, how-
ever, in the estimation of the ; ivages, who delighted to
adorn themselves with leggings made .from the cloth,
beautifully worked with beads by their own ingenious
women. Thev were thankful, too, for knives even of
the connnonest description, having none but Itonc ones
of their own ; and they gloried in daubing their faces
with intermingled streaks of charcoal and vermilion.
To gaze at their visages, when thus treated, in the little
penny looking-glasses is their sunmiit of delight !

Joe presented the chief with a portion of these coveted
goods, and tied up the remainder. We may remark
here that the only thing which prevented the savages
from taking possession of the whole at once, without
asking permission, was the promise of the annual gifts,
wdiich they knew w^ould not be forthcoming were any
evil to befall the deputies of the Pale-faces. Neverthe-
less, it cost them a severe struggle to restrain their
hands on this occasion, and Joe and his companions felt
that they would have to play their part well in order
to fulfil their mission wath safety and credit.

" The Pale-faces may go now and talk with the
bra<<res," said San-it-sa-rish, after carefully examining

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102

THE DOG CRUSOE.

everything that was given to him ; " a council will be
called soon, and we will smoke the pipe of peace."

Accepting this permission to retire, the hunters im-
mediately left the tent ; and being now at liberty to do
what they pleased, they amused themselves by wander-
ing about the villaoje.

" He's a cute chap that," remarked Joe, with a sar-
castic smile ; " I don't feel quite easy about gettin' away.
He'll bother the life out o' us to get all the goods we've
got, and, ye see, as we've other tribes to visit, we must
give away as little as we can here."

" Ha ! you is right," said Henri ; " dat fellow's eyes
twinkle at de knives and tings like two stars."

" Fire-flies, ye should say. Stars are too soft an'
beautiful to compare to the eyes o' yon savage," said
Dick, laughing. " I wish we were well away from
them. That rascal Mahtawa is an ugly customer."

" True, lad," returned Joe ; " had he bin the great
chief our scalps had bin dryin' in the smoke o' a Paw-
nee wigwam afore now. What now, lad ? "

Joe's question was put in consequence of a gleeful
smile that overspread the countenance of Dick Varley,
who replied by pointing to a wigwam towards which
they were approaching.

" Oh ! that's only a dandy," exclaimed Joe. " There's
lots o' them in every Injun camp. They're fit for
nothin' but dress, poor contemptible critters."

Joe accompanied his remark with a sneer, for of all
pitiable objects he regarded an unmanly man as the
most despicable. He consented, however, to sit down
on a grassy bank and watch the proceedings of this

THE DO(} CKUSOE.

J03

Indian dantly, who had just seated himself in front of
his wigwam for tlie purpose of making his toilet.

He began it by greasing his whole person carefully
and smoothly over with butValo fat, until he shone like
a patent leather boot ; then he rubbed himself almost
dry, leavini;- the skin sleek and glossy. IFaving pi'o-
ceeded thus far, he took up a small mirror, a iV^w inches
in diameter, which he or some other member of the trilje
nmst have procured during one of their few excursions
to the tradinij'-forts of the Pale-faces, and examined him-
self, as well as he could, in so limited a space. Next,
lie took a little vermilion from a small parcel and
rubbed it over his face until it presented th(i somewhat
demoniac appearance of a fiery red. He also drew a
broad red score along the crown of his head, which was
closely shaved, with the exception of the usual tuft or
scalplock on the top. This scalplock stood bi'istling
straight up a few iiiches, and then curved over and
hung down his back about two feet. Innnense care and
attention was bestowed on this lock. He smoothed it,
greased it, and plaited it into the form of a pigtail.
Another application was here mmh to the glass, and the
result was evidently satisfactory, to judge from tho
beaming smile that played on his features. But, not
content with the general ctl'ect, he tried tlu^ effect of ex-
pression — frowned portt.Mitously, scowled savagely, gaped
hideously, and grinned horribly a ghiustly smile.

Then our dandy fitted into his ears, which were
bored in several places, sundry ornaments, such as rings,
wampum, etc., and hung several strings of beads round
his neck. Besides these he affixed one or two ornu

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104

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ments to his arms, wrists, and ankles, and touched in a
few effects with vermilion on the shoulders and breast.
After this, and a few more glances at the glass, he put
on a pair of beautiful moccasins, which, besides being
richly wrought with beads, were soft as chamois leather
and fitted his feet like gloves. A pair of leggings of
scarlet cloth were drawn on, attached to a waist-belt,
and bound below the knee with broad garters of varie-
gated bead-work.

It was some time before this Adonis was quite satis-
fied with himself. He retouched the paint on his shoul-
ders several times, and modified the glare of that on his
wide-mouthed, high-cheek-boned visage, before he could
tear himself away ; but at last he did so, and throwing
a large piece of scarlet cloth over his shoulders, he thrust
his looking-glass under his belt, and proceeded to mount
his palfrey, which was held in readiness near to the
tent door by one of his wives. The horse was really a
fine animal, and seemed worthy of a more warlike
master. His shoulders, too, were striped with red paint,
and feathers were intertwined with his mane and tail, while
the bridle was decorated with various jingling ornaments.

Vaulting upon his steed, with a large fan of wild-
goose and turkey feathers in one hand, and a whip
dangling at the wrist of the other, this incomparable
dandy sallied forth for a promenade — that being his
chief deliufht when there was no buflTalo huntinix to be
done. Other men who were not dandies sharpened
their knives, smoked, feasted, and mended their spears
and arrows at such seasons of leisure, or played at
athletic games.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

105

" Let's follow my buck," said Joe Blunt.

" Qui. Come 'long," replied Henri, striding after the
rider at a pace that almost compelled his conn^ades
to run.

" Hold on ! " cried Dick, laughing ; " we don't want
to keep him company. A distant view is quite enough
o' sich a chap as that."

" Mais you forgit I cannot see far."

" So much the better," remarked Joe ; " it's my
opinion we've seen enough o' him. Ah ! he's goin' to
look on at the games. Them's worth lookin' at."

The games to which Joe referred were taking place
on a green level plain close to the creek, and a little
above the waterfall before referred to. Some of the
Indians were horse-racing, some jumping, and others
wrestling ; but the game which proved most attractive
was throwing the javelin, in which several of the young
braves were emxacfed.

This game is played by two competitors, each armed
with a dart, in an arena about fifty yards long. One
of the players has a hoop of six inches in diameter.
At a signal they start off on foot at full speed, and on
reaching the middle of the arena the Indian with the
hoop rolls it along before them, and each does his best
to send a javelin through the hoop before the other.
He who succeeds counts so many points ; if both miss,
the nearest to the hoop is allowed to count, but not so
much as if he had " ringed " it. The Indians are very
fond of this game, and will play at it under a broiling
sun for hours together. But a good deal of the interest
attaching to it is owing to the fact that they make it a

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

means of gambling. Indians arc inveterate gamblers,
and will sometimes go on until they lose horses, bows,
blankets, robes, and, in short, their whole personal
property. The consequences are, as might be expected,
that fierce and bloody quarrels sometimes arise in which
life is often lost.

" Try your hand at that," said Henri to Dick.

" By all means," cried Dick, handing his ritle to his
friend, and springing into the ring enthusiastically.

A general shout of applause greeted the Pale-face,
who threw off his coat and tightened his belt, while a
young Indian presented him with a dart.

" Now, see that ye do us credit, lad," said Joe.

" I'll try," answered Dick.

In a moment they were off. The young Indian
rolled away the hoop, and Dick threw his dart with
such \igour that it went deep into the ground, but
missed the hoop by a foot at least. The young Indian's
first dart went through the centre.

" Ha ! " exclaimed Joe Blunt to the Indians near him,
" the lad's not used to that game ; try him at a race.
Bring out your best brave — he whose bound is like the
hunted deer."

We need scarcely remind the reader that Joe spoke
in the Indian language, and that the above is a correct
rendering of the sense of what he said.

The name of Tarwicadia, or the little chief, immedi-
ately passed from lip to lip, and in a few minutes an
Indian, a little below tlie medium size, bounded into
the arena with an iudiarubber-like elasticity that caused
a shade of anxiety to pass over Joe's face.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

107

" Ah, boy ! " ho whispcrecl, " I'm afeard you'll find
him a tough customer."

"That's just what I want," replied Dick. "He's
supple enough, but he wants muscle in the thigh.
We'll make it a Ions: heat."

" Right, lad, ye're right."

Joe now proceeded to arrange the conditions of the
race with the chiefs around him. It was fixed that the
distance to be run should be a mile, so that the race
would be one of two miles, out and back. Moreover,
the competitors were to run without any clothes, except
a belt and a small piece of cloth round the loins. This
to the Indians was nothing, for they seldom wore more
in warm weather ; but Dick would have preferred to
keep on part of his dress. The laws of the course,
however, would not permit of this, so he stripped and
stood forth, the beau-ideal of a well-formed, agile man.
He was greatly .superior in size to his antagonist, and
more muscular, the savage being slender and extremely
lithe and springy.

" Ha ! I will run too," shouted Hemi, bouncing for-
ward with clumsy energy, and throwing off his coat
just as they were going to start.

The savages smiled at this unexpected burst, and
made no objection, considering the thing in the light of
a joke.

The signal was given, and away they went. Oh 1 it
would have done you good to have seen the way in
which Henri mana^uvrcd his limbs on this celebrated
occasion ! He went over the ground with huge elephan-
tine bounds, runs, and jumps. He could not have been

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108

THE DOG CRUSOE.

said to have one stvle of running; ; he had a dozen
styles, all of which came into play in the course of half
as many minutes. The other two ran like the wind ;
yet although Henri a2^peared to be going heavily over
the ground, he kept up with them to the turning-point.
As for Dick, it became evident in the first few minutes
that ho could outstrip his antagonist with ease, and
was hanging back a little all the time. He shot ahead
like an arrow when they came about half-way back,
and it was clear ihat the real interest of the race was
to lie in the competition between Henri and Tarwicadia.

Before they were two-thirds of the way back, Dick
walked in to the winning-point, and turned to watch
the others. Henri's wind was about gone, for he ex-
erted himself with such violence that he wasted half
his strength. The Indian, on the contrary, was com-
paratively fresh, but he was nob so fleet as his anta-
gonist, whose tremendous strides carried him over the
ground at an incredible pace. On they came neck and
neck, till close on the score that marked the winning-
point. Here the value of enthusiasm came out strongly
in the case of Henri. He felt that he could not gain
an inch on Tarwicadia to save his life, but just as he
came up he observed the anxious faces of his comrades
and the half-sneering countenances of the savages. His
he.«rt thumped against his ribs, every muscle thrilled
with a gush of conflicting feelings, and he hurled him-
self over the score like a cannon shot, full six inches
ahead of the little chief !

But the thing did not by any means end here. Tar-
wicadia pulled up the instant he had passed. Not so

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100

our Canadian. Such a clumsy and colossal frame was
not to be checked in a moment. The crowd of Indians
opened up to let him pass, but unfortunately a small
tent that stood in the way was not so obliging. Into
it he went, head foremost, like a shell, carried away the
corner post with his shoulder, and brought the whole
affair down about his own ears and those of its inmates,
among whom were several children and two or three
dogs. It required some time to extricate them all from
the ruins, but when this was effected it was found that
no serious damage had been done to life. or limb.

CHAPTER IX.

!?. I

S i

Crusoe acts a coyispicuous and humane part — A friend gained —A great feast.

WHEN the foot-race was concluded the three
hunters hung about looking on at the various
games for some time, and then strolled towards the lake,

"Ye may be thankful yer neck's whole," said Joe,
grinning, as Henri rubbed his shoulder with a rueful
look. " An' we'll have to send that Injun and his family
a knife and some beads to make up for the fright they
got."

" Ha ! an' fat is to be give to me for my broke
shoulder ? "

" Credit, man, credit," said Dick Varley, laughing.

"Credit! fat is dat?"

" Honour and glory, lad, and the praises of them
savages."

" Ha ! de praise ? more probeebale de ill-vill of de
rascale. I seed dem scowl at me not ver' pritty."

" That's true, Henri ; but sich as it is it's all ye'll git."

" I visli," remarked Henri after a pause — " I vish I
could git de vampum belt de leetle chief had on. It
vas superb. Fat place do vampums come from ? "

" They're shells—"

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Ill

" Oui," interrupted Henri ; " I know fat dey is. Dey
is sliells, and de Injuns tink deni goot monish • niais I
ask you fat placG de come from."

" They are thought to he gathered on the shores o'
the Pacific," said Joe. " The Injuns on the west o' the
Rocky Mountains picks them up and exchanges them
wi' the fellows hereaway for horses and skins — so I'm
told."

At this moment there was a wild cry of terror heard
a short distance ahead of them. Rushing forward Hiey
observed an Indian woman flying frantically down the
river's bank towards the waterfall, a liundred yards
above which an object was seen struggling in the water.

" 'Tis her child," cried Joe, as the mother's frantic cry
reached bis ear. " It'll be over the fall in a minute !
Run, Dick, you're quickest."

They had all started forward at speed, but Dick and
Crusoe were far ahead, and abreast of the spot in a few
seconds.

" Save it, pup," cried Dick, pointing to the child,
which had been caught in an eddy, and was for a few
moments hovering on the edge of the stream that rushed
impetuously towards the fall.

The noble Newfoundland did not require to be told
what to do. It seems a natural instinct in this saga-
cious species of dog to save man or beast that chances
to be struggling in the water, and many are the authentic
stories related of Newfoundland dogs savino' life in cases
of shipwreck. Indeed, they are regularly trained to the
work in some countries ; and nobly, fearlessly, disinter-
estedly do they discharge their trust, often in the midst

112

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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of appalling dangers. Crusoe sprang from the bank
with such impetus that his hroad chest ploughed up the
water like the bow of a boat, and the energetic work-
ings of his muscles were indicated by the force of each
successive propulsion as he shot ahead.

In a few seconds he reached the child and caught it
by the hair. Then he turned to swim back, but the
stream had got hold of him. Bravely he struggled, and
lifted the child breast-high out of the water in his
powerful efforts to stem the current. In vain. Each
moment he was carried inch by inch down until he was
on the brink of the fall, which, though not high, was a
large body of water and fell with a heavy roar. He
raised himself hiojh out of the stream with the vio'our of
his last struggle, and then fell back into the abyss.

By this time the poor mother was in a canoe as close
to the fall as she could with safety approach, and the
little bark danced like a cockle-shell on the turmoil of
waters as she stood with uplifted padtlle and staring
eyeballs awaiting the rising of the child.

Crusoe came up almost instantly, but alone, for the
dash over the fall had wrenched the child from his teeth.
He raised himself high up, and looked anxiously round
for a moment. Then he caught sight of a little hand
raised above the boilinc!' flood. In one moment he had
the child again by the hair, and just as the prow of the
Indian woman's canoe touched the shore he brought the
child to land.

Springing towards him, the mother snatched her child
from the flood, and gazed at its death-like face with eye-
balls starting from their sockets. Then she laid her

TTTE DOO CRUSOE.

113

clieek on its cold la-east, and stood like a statue of de-
spair. There was one slight pulsation of the heart and
a jT^entle motion of the hand ! The child still lived.
Opening up her blanket she laid her little one against
her naked, warm bosom, drew the covering close around
it, and sitting down on the bank wept aloud for joy.

" Come — come 'way quick," cried Henri, hurrying ofF
to hide the emotion which he could not crush down.

" Ay, she don't need our help now," said Joe, follow-
ino' his comrade.

As for Crusoe, he walked along by his master's side
with his usual quiet, serene look of good-will towards all
mankind. Doubtless a feelino- of scladness at havino-
saved a human life filled his shaggy breast, for he wagged
his tail gently after each shake of his dripping sides ;
but his meek eyes were downcast, save when raised to
receive the welcome and unusually fervent caress. Cru-
soe did not know that those three men loved him as
though he had been a brother.

On their way back to the village the hunters were
met by a little boy, who said that a council was to be
held immediately, and their presence was requested.

The council was held in the tent of the principal
chief, towards which all the other chiefs and many of
the noted braves hurried. Like all Indian councils, it
was preceded by smoking the " medicine pipe," and was
followed by speeches from several of the best orators.
The substance of the discourse differed little from what
has been already related in reference to the treaty be-
tween the Pale-faces, and upon the whole it was satis-
factory. But .Too Blunt could not fail to notice that

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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't'

jNIalitawa iiiaintaincd sullen siluncu (luring the whole
course of the ineetini!:.

He observed also that there was a considerable chanoe
in the tone of the meeting- when he informed them that
he was ])0und on a similar errand of peace to several of
the other trilies, especially to one or two tribes wdiich
M'ero the Pawnees' bitter enemies at that time. These
grasping savages having quite made up their minds that
they were to obtain the entire contents of the two bales
of goods, were mucli mortified on hearing that part was
to go to other Indian tribes. Some of them even hinted
that this would not be allowed, and Joe feared at one
time that things were goinc: to take an unfavourable
turn. The hair of his scalp, as he afterwards said,
" began to lift a little and feel oneasy." But San-it-sa-
rish stood honestly to his word, said that it would be
well that the Pale-faces and the Pawnees should be
brothers, antl hoped that they would not forget the
promise of annual presents from the hand of the great
chief who lived in the bio- village near the rising sun.

Having settled this matter amicably, Joe distributed
among the Indians the proportion of his goods designed
for them ; and then they all adjourned to another tent,
where a great feast w^as prepared for them.

" Are ye hungry ? " inquired Joe of Dick as they
walked alonof.

" Ay, that am I. I feel as if I could eat a buffalo
alive. Why, it's my 'pinion we've tasted nothin' since
daybreak this mornin'."

" AVell, r\'e often told ye tha- them Redskins think
it a disgrace to give in eatin' till all that's set before

THE DOG CRUSOE.

115

them at a feast is bolted. We'll ha' to stretch oursel's,
we will."

" I'se got a plenty room," remarked Henri.

" Ye have, but ye'U wish ye had more in a little."

" Bien, I not care ! '

In qmirter of an hour all the guests invited to this
Cfreat " medicine feast " were assembled. No women were
admitted. They never are at Indian feasts.

We may remark in passing that the word " medicine,"
as used among the North American Indians, has a very
much wider signification than it has with us. It is an
almost inexplicable w^ord. When asked, they cannot
give a full or satisfactory explanation of it themselves.
In the general, we may say that whatever is mysterious
is " medicine." Jugglery and conjuring, of a noisy,
mysterious, and, we must add, rather silly nature, is
" medicine," and the juggler is a " medicine man." These
medicine men undertake cures ; but they are regular
charlatans, and know nothing whatever of the diseases
they pretend to cure or their remedies. They carry
bags containing sundry relics; these are "medicine bags."
Every brave has his own private medicine bag. Every-
thing that is incomprehensible, or supposed to be super-
natural, religious, or medical, is " medicine." This feast,
being an unusual one, in honour of strangers, and in
connection with a peculiar and unexpected event, was
" medicine." Even Crusoe, since his gallant conduct in
saving the Indian child, was " medicine ; " and Dick
Varley's double-barrelled rifle, which had been an object
of wonder ever since his arrival at the village, was
tremendous " medicine ! "

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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h ;

Of course the Indians were arrayed in their best.
KSeveral wore necklaces of the claws of the grizzly bear,
of which they are extremely proud ; and a gaudily pic-
turesque group they were. The chief, however, had
undergone a transformation that well-nigh upset the
gravity of our hunters, and rendered Dick's efforts to
look solemn quite abortive. San-it-sa-rish had once been
to the trading-forts of the Pale-faces, and while there
had received the customary gift of a blue surtout with
brass buttons, and an ordinary hat, such as gentlemen
wear at home. As the coat was a good deal too small
for him, a terrible length of dark, bony wrist appeared
below the cuffs. The waist was too high, and it was
with great difficulty that he managed to button the
garment across his broad chest. Being ignorant of the
nature of a hc-o, the worthy savage had allowed the
paper and string with which it had been originally
covered to remain on, supposing them to be part and
parcel of the hat; and this, together with the high collar
of the coat, which gave him a crushed-up appearance,
the long black naked legs, and the painted visage, gave
to him a tout ensemble which we can compare to nothing,
as there was nothing in nature comparable to it.

Those guests who assembled first passed their time in
smoking the medicine pipe until the others should arrive,
for so long as a single invited guest is absent the feast
cannot beoin. Dionificd silence was maintained while
the pipe thus circulated from hand to hand. When the
last guest arrived they began.

The men were seated in two rows, face to face.
Feasts of this kind usually consist of but one species of

THE DOG CRUSOE.

117

food, and on the present occasion it was an enormous
caldron full of maize which had to be devoured. About
fifty sat down to eat a quantity of what may be termed
thick porridge that would have been ample allowance
for a hundred ordinary men. Before commencing, San-
it-sa-rish desired an aoed medicine man to make an ora-
tion, which he did fluently and poetically. Its subject
was the praise of the giver of the feast. At the end of
each period there was a general " hou ! hou ! " of assent
— equivalent to the " hear ! hear ! " of civilized men.

Other orators then followed, all of whom spoke with
great ease and fluency, and some in the most impassioned
strains, working themselves and their audience up to the
highest pitch of excitement, now shouting with frenzied
violence till their eyes glared from their sockets and the
veins of their foreheads swelled almost to bursting as
they spoke of war and chase, anon breaking into soft
modulated and pleasing tones while they dilated upon
the pleasures of peace and hospitality.

After these had finished, a number of wooden bowls
full of maize porridge were put down between the guests
— one bowl to each couple facing each other. But before
commencing a portion was laid aside and dedicated to
their gods, with various mysterious ceremon js ; for here,
as in other places where the gospel is not known, the
poor savages fancied that they could propiiiate God with
sacrifices. They had never heard of the " sacrifice of a
broken spirit and a contrite heart." This offering being
made, the feast began in earnest. Not only was it a
rule in this feast that every mouthful should be swal-
lowed by each guest, however unwilling and unable he

118

THE DOG CRUSOE.

■! I

should be to do so, but he who could dispose of it with
greatest speed was deemed the greatest man — at least
on that occasion — while the last to conclude his supper
was looked upon with some degree of contempt !

It seems strange that such a custom should ever have
arisen, and one is not a little puzzled in endeavouring
to guess at the origin of it. There is one fact that
occurs to us as the probable cause. The Indian is, as
we have before hinted, frequently reduced to a state
bordering on starvation, and in a day after he may be
burdened with superabundance of food. He oftentimes
therefore eats as much as he can stuff into his body
when he is blessed with plenty, so as to be the better
able to withstand the attacks of hunger that may pos-
sibly be in store for him. The amount that an Indian
will thus eat at a single meal is incredible. He seems
to have the power of distending himself for the recep-
tion of a quantity that would kill a civilized man.
Children in particular become like tightly inflated little
balloons after a feast, and as they wear no clothing, the
extraordinary rotundity is vciy obvious, not to say
ridiculous. We conclude therefore that unusual powers
of gormandizing, being useful, come at last to be culti-
vated as praiseworthy.

By good fortune Dick and Joe Blunt happened to
have such enormous gluttons as vis-d-vis that the por-
tions of tlieir respective bowls which they could not
devour were gobbled up for them. By good capacity
and digestion, with no small amount of effort, Henri
managed to dispose of his own share ; but he was last of
being done, and fell in the savages' esteem greatly, The

THE DOG CRUSOE.

119

way in which that sticky compost of boilecl maize wont
down was absolutely amazing. The man opposite Dick,
in particular, was a human boa-constrictor, He well-
nigh sufibcated Dick with suppressed laughter. He was
a great raw-boned savage, with a tliroat of indiarubber,
and went quickly and quietly on swallowing mass after
mass with the solemn gravity of an owl. It mattered
not a straw to him that Dick took comparatively small
mouthfuls, and nearly choked on them too for want of
liquid to wash them down. Had Dick eaten none at all
he would have uncomplainingly disposed of the whole.
Jack the Giant-Killer's feats were nothing to his ; and
when at last the bowl was empty, he stopped short like
a machine from which the steam had been suddenly cut
otf, and laid down his buffalo horn-spoon without a sigh.

Dick sighed, though with relief and gratitude, when
his bowl was empty.

" I hope I may never ha\ c to do it again," said Joe
that night as they wended their way back to the chief's
tent after supp(n\ " I wouldn't be fit for anything for
a week arter it."

Dick could only laugh, for any allusion to the feast
instantly brought back that owl-like goiu'mand to whom
he was so deeply indebted.

Henri groaned. " Oh ! mes boy, I am speechless I I
am ready for bust ! Qui — hah ! 1 veesh it vas to-
morrow."

Many a time that night did Henri " veesh it vas to-
morrow," as he lay helpless on his back, looking up
through the roof of the chief's tent at the stars, and
listening enviously to the plethoric snoring of Joe Blunt.

ili

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

He was entertained, however, during those waking
hours with a serenade such as few civilized ears ever
listen to. This was nothing else than a vocal concert
performed by all the dogs of the village, and as they
amounted to nearly two thousand the orchestra was a
pretty full one.

These wretches howled as if they had all gone mad.
Yet there was " method in their madness ; " for they con-
£jrer)'ated in a crowd before befiinnino- and sat down on
their haunches. Then one, which seemed to be the con-
ductor, raised his snout to the sky and uttered a long,
low, melancholy wail. The others took it up by twos
and threes, until the whole pack had their noses pointing
to the stars and their throats distended to the uttermost,
while a prolonged yell filled the air. Then it sank
gradually, one or two (bad performers probably) making
a yelping attempt to get it up again at the wrong time.
Again the conductor raised his nose, and out it came —
full swinnj. There was no vociferous barkino-. It was
simple wolfish howling increased in fervour to an electric
yell, with slight barks running continuously through it
like an obbligato accompaniment.

When Crusoe first heard the unwonted sound he
sprang to his feet, bristled up like a hyena, showed all
his teeth, and bounded out of the tent blazing with in-
dignation and astonishment. When he found out what
it was he returned quite sleek, and with a look of pro-
found contempt on his countenance as he resumed his
place by his muster's side and went to sleep.

CHAPTER X.

Perplexities — Our huntej's plan their escape — Unexpected interruptuin — The
tables turned — Crasoe inouiits (juard- -The escaj'C.

DICK VARLEY sat before the fire ruminating. We
do not mean to assert that Dick had been pre-
viously eating grass. By no means. For several days
past he had been mentally subsisting on the remark-
able thino's that he heard and saw in the Pawnee villacje,
and wondering how he was to get away without being
scalped. He was now chewing the cud of this intellectual
fare. We therefore repeat emphatically — in case any
reader should have presumed to contradict us — that
Dick Varley sat befoi-e the fire rumlnatinfj !

Joe Blunt likewise sat by the fire along with him,
ruminating too, and smoking besides, tienri also sat
there smoking, and looking a little the worse of his
late supper.

" I don't like the look o' things," said Joe, blowing
a whifi' of smoke slowly from his lips, and watching it
as it ascended into the still air. " That blackguard
Mahtawa is determined not to let us oft' till he gits all
our goods ; an' if he gits them, he may as well take our
scalps too, for we would come poor speed in the prairies
without guns, horses, or goods."

!f!

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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Dick looked at his friend with an exj)ression of con-
cern. " What's to be done ? " said he.

" Ve must escape," answered Henri ; but his tone was
not a hopeful one, for he knew the danger of their
position better than Dick.

"Ay, we must escape — at least we must try," said
Joe. " But I'll make one more effort to smooth over
San-it-sa-rish, an' git him to snub that villain Mahtawa."

Just as he spoke the villain in question entered the
tent with a bold, haughty air, and sat down before the
fire in sullen silence. For some minutes no one spoke,
and Henri, who happened at the time to be examining
the locks of Dick's rifle, continued to inspect them with
an appearance of careless indifference that he was far
from feeling.

Now, this rifle of Dick's had become a source of
unceasing wonder to the Indians — wonder which was
greatly increased by the fact that no one could discharge
it but himself. Dick had, during his short stay at the
Pawnee village, amused himself and the savages by ex-
hibiting his marvellous powers with the " silver rifle."
Since it had been won by him at the memorable match
in the Mustang Valley, it had scarce ever been out of
his hand, so that he had become decidedly the best shot
in the settlement, could " bark " squirrels (that is, hit
the bark of the branch on which a squirrel happened
to be standing, and so kill it by the concussion alone),
and could " drive the nail " every shot. The silver rifle,
as we have said, became " great medicine " to the Red-
jien when they saw it kill at a distance which the few
wretched guns they had obtained from the fur-traders

THE DOG CRUSOE.

123

pne),
[•ifle,

Ifew
llers

could not even send a spent ball to. The double shot,
too, filled them with wonder and adnnration ; but that
which they regarded with an almost supernatural feeling
of curiosity was the percussion cap, which, in Dick's
hands, always exploded, but in theirs was utterly use-
less !

This result was shiiply owing to the fact that Dick,
after firing, handed the rifle to the Indians without
renewing the cap ; so that when they loaded and at-
tempted to fire, of course it merely snapped. When he
wished again to fire, he adroitly exchanged the old cap
for a new one. He was immensely tickled by the
solemn looks of the Indians at this most incomprehen-
sible of all " medicines," and kept them for some days
in ignorance of the true cause, intending to reveal it
before he left. But circumstances now arose which
banished all trifling thoughts from his mind.

Mahtawa raised his head suddenly, and said, pointing
to the silver rifle, " Mahtawa wishes to have the two-
shotted medicine mm. He will mve his best horse in
exchange,"

" Mahtawa is liberal," answered Joe ; " but the pale-
faced youth cannot part with it. He has far to travel,
and must shoot buflaloes by the way."

" The pale-faced youth shall have a bow and arrows
to shoot the buffalo," rejoined the Indian.

" He cannot use the bow and arrow," answered Joe.
" He has not been trained like the Red-man."

Mahtawa was silent for a few seconds, and his dark
brows frowned more heavily than ever over his eyes.

" The Pale-faces are too bold," he exclaimed, working

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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himself into a passion. " They are in the power of
Mahtawa. If they will not give the gun he will take
it."

He sprang suddenly to his feet as he spoke, and
snatched the rifle from Henri's hand.

Henri beino- icrnorant of the lan":uao:e had not been
able to understand the foregoing conversation, although
he saw well enough that it was not an agreeable one ;
but no sooner did he find himself thus rudely and un-
expectedly deprived of the rifle than he jumped up,
wrenched it in a twinkling from the Indian's grasp, and
hurled him violently out of the tent.

In a moment Mahtawa drew his knife, uttered a
savage yell, and sprang on the reckless hunter, who,
however, caught his wrist, and held it as if in a vice.
The yell brought a dozen warriors instantly to the spot,
and before Dick had time to recover from his astonish-
ment, Henri was surrounded and pinioned despite his
herculean struggles.

Before Dick could move, Joe Blunt grasped his arm,
and whispered quickly, " Don't rise. You can't help
him. They daren't kill him till San-it-sa-rish agrees."

Though much surprised, Dick obeyed, but it required
all his eflbrts, both of voice and hand, to control Crusoe,
whose mind was much too honest and straightforward
to understand such subtle pieces of diplomacy, and who
strove to rush to the rescue of his ill-used friend.

When the tumult had partly subsided, Joe Blunt rose
and said, —

" Have the Pawnee braves turned traitors that thev
draw the knife against those who have smoked with

THE DOG CRUSOE.

125

them the pipe of peace and eaten their maize ? The
Pale-faces are throe ; the Pawnees are thousands. ]f
evil has been done, let it be laid before the chief.
Mahtawa wishes to have the medicine oun. Althouijh
we said, No, we could not part with it, he tried to take
it by force. Are we to go back to the great chief of
the Pale-faces and say that the Pawnees are thieves ?
Are the Pale-faces henceforth to tell their children when
they steal, ' That is bad ; that is like the Pawnee ? '
No ; this must not be. The rifle shall be restored, and
we will foroet this disaoroement. Is it not so ? "

There was an evident disposition on the part of
many of the Indians, with whom Mahtawa was no fav-
ourite, to applaud this speech ; but the wily chief sprang
forward, and, with flashing eyes, sought to turn the
tables.

" The Pale-face speaks with soft words, but his heart
is false. Is he not going to make peace with the ene-
mies of the Pawnee ? Is he not going to take goods to
them, and make them gifts and promises ? The Pale-
faces are spies. They come to see the weakness of the
Pawnee camp ; but they have found that it is strong.
Shall we suffer the false hearts to escape ? Shall they
live ? No ; we will hang their scalps in our wigwams,
for they have struck a cJiief, and we will keep all their
goods for our squaws — wah ! "

This allusion to keeping all the goods had more effect
on the minds of the vacillatino' savaj^es than the chief's
eloquence. But a new turn was given to their thoughts
by Joe Blunt remarking in a quiet, almost contemp-
tuous tone, —

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Mahtawa is not the nreat chief."

" True, true," they cried, and immediately hurried to
the tent of San-it-sa-rish.

Once again this chief stood between the hunters and
the savages, who w^anted but a signal to fall on them.
There was a long palaver, which ended in Henri being
set at liberty and the rifle being restored.

That evening, as the three friends sat beside their
fire eating their supper of boiled maize and buflalo meat,
they laughed and talked as carelessly as ever ; but the
gaiety was assumed, for they w^ere at the time planning
their escape from a tribe which, they foresaw, would
not long refrain from carrying out their wishes, and
robbing, perhaps murdering them.

*' Ye see," said Joe with a perplexed air, while he
drew a piece of live charcoal from the fire with his
fingers and lighted his pipe — " ye see, there's more diffi-
culties in the way o' gettin' off" than ye think — "

" Oh, nivare mind de difficulties," interrupted Henri,
whose wrath at the treatment he had received had not
yet cooled down. " Ve must jump on de best horses
ve can git hold, shake our fists at de red reptiles, and
go away fast as ve can. De best boss oiiust vin de
race."

Joe shook his head. " A hundred arrows would be
in our backs before we got twenty yards from the
camp. Besides, we can't tell which are the best horses.
Our own are the best in my 'pinion, but how are we to
git 'em ? "

*' I know who has charge o' them," said Dick. " I
saw them grazing near the tent o' that poor squaw

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127

whose baby was saved by Crusoe. Either lior husband
looks after them or some neighbours."

"That's well," said Joe. "That's one o' my diffi-
culties o-one."

" What are th^ others ? "

" Well, d'ye see, they're troul)lesome. We can't git
the horses out o' camp without bein' seen, for the red
rascals would see what we were at in a jitt'y. Then, if
we do git 'em out, we can't go oft' without our bales,
an' we needn't think to take 'em from under the nose
o' the chief and his squaws without bein' axed questions.
To go off without them would niver do at all."

" Joe," said Dick earnestly, " I've hit on a plan."

" Have ye, Dick— what is't ? "

" Come and I'll let ye see," answered Dick, rising
hastily and quitting the tent, followed by his comrades
and his faithful do<x-

It may be as well to remark here, that no restraint
whatever had yet been put on the movements of our
hunters as long as they kept to their legs, for it was
well known that any attempt by men on foot to escape
from mounted Indians on the plains would be hopeless.
Moreover, the savages thought that as long as there was
a prospect of their being allowed to depart peaceably
with their goods, they would not be so mad as to fly
from the camp, and, by so doing, risk their lives and
declare war with their entertainers. They had there-
fore been permitted to wander unchecked, as yet, far
beyond the outskirts of the camp, and amuse themselves
in paddling about the lake in the tiiiiall Indian canoes
and shooting wild-fowl.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

Dick now led the way through tlio labj^rinths of
tents in the direction of the lake, and they talked and
laughed loudly, and whistled to Crusoe as they \vent,
in order to prevent their purpose being suspected. For
the purpose of further disarming suspicion, they went
without their rifles. Dick explained his plan by the
way, and it was at once warndy approved of by his
comrades.

On reaching the lake they launched a small canoe,
into which Crusoe was ordered to jump ; then, embark-
ing, they paddled swiftly to the opposite shore, singing
a canoe song as they dipped their paddles in the moon-
lit waters of the lake. Arrived at the other side, they
hauled the canoe up and hurried through the thin belt
of wood and willows that intervened between the lake
and the prairie. Here they paused.

" Is that the bluff, Joe ? "

" No, Dick ; that's too near. T'other one '11 be best^
far away to the right. It's a little one, and there's
others near it. The sharp eyes o' the Redskins won't
be so likely to be prowlin' there."

" Come on, then ; but w e'll have to take down by the
lake first."

In a few minutes the hunters were threading their
vv^ay through the outskirts of the wood at a rapid trot,
in the opposite direction from the bluff", or wooded knoll,
which they wished to reach. This they did lest prying
eyes should have followed them. In (quarter of an hour
they turned at right angles to their track, and struck
straight out into the prairie, and after a long run they
edged round and came in upon the blufl' from behind.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

129

It was merely a collection of stunted but thick-orowinir
willows.

Forcing tlieir way into the centre of this they began
to examine it.

" It'll do," said Joe.

" De very ting," remarked Henri.

" Come here, Crusoe."

Crusoe bounded to his master's side, and looked up
in his face.

" Look at this place, pup ; smell it well."

Crusoe instantly set oti" all round among the willows,
in and out, snuffino- everywhere, and whinino- with excite-

'Oft/' o

ment.

" Come here, good pup ; that will do. Now, lads,
we'll go back." So saying, Dick and his friends left
the blutt', and retraced their steps to the camp. Before
they had gone far, however, Joe halted, and said, —

" D'ye know, Dick, I doubt if the pup's so cliver as
ye think. What if he don't quite onderstand ye ? "

Dick replied by taking oft' his cap and throwing it
down, at the same time exclaiming, " Take it yonder,
pup," and pointing with his hand towards the bluff".
The dog seized the cap, and went off" with it at full
speed towards the willows, where it left it, and came
galloping back for the expected reward — not noWj as in
days of old, a bit of meat, but a gentle stroke of its
head and a hearty clap on its shaggy side.

' Good pup ! go now an' fetch it."

Away he went with a bound, and in a few seconds
came back and deposited the cap at his master's feet.

" Will that do ? " asked Dick, triumphantly.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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"Ay, lad, it will. The pup's worth its weight in
goold."

" Oui, I have said, and I say it agen, de dog is human,
so him is. If not, fat am he ? "

Without pausing to reply to this perplexing question,
Dick stepped forward again, and in half -an -hour or
so they were back in the camp.

" Now for your part of the w^ork, Joe. Yonder 's the
squaw that owns the half-drowned baby. Everything
depends on her."

Dick pointed to the Indian woman as he spoke. She
was sitting beside her tent, and playing at her knee
was the identical youngster whj had been saved by
Crusoe.

" I'll manage it," said Joe, and walked towards her,
while Dick and Henri returned to the chiefs tent.

" Does the Pawnee woman tliank the Great Spirit
that her child is saved ? " began Joe as he came up.

" She does," answered the woman, looking up at the
hunter. " And her heart is warm to the Pale-faces."

After a short silence Joe continued, —

" The Pawnee chiefs do not love the Pale-faces.
Some of them hate them."

"The Dark Flower knows it," answered the woi.ian;
" she is sorry. She would help t)ie Pale-faces if she
could."

This was uttered in a low tone, and with a meaning
glance of the eye.

Joe hesitated again — could he trust her ? Yes ; the
feelings that filled her breast an('» prompted her words
were noi those of the Indian just now — they were

THE TlOG CRUSOE.

rcls
ere

those of a mother, whose gmtitude was too full for
utterance.

" Will the Dark Flower," said Joe, catching the name
she had given herself, " help the Pale-face if he opens
his heart to her ? Will she risk the ani>er of her
nation ? "

" She will," replied the woman ; " she will do what
she can."

Joe and his dark friend now dropped theii high-
sounding style of speech, and spoke for some minutes
rapidly in an undertone. It was finally arranged that
on a given day, at a certain hour, the woman should
take the four horses down the shores of the lake to
its lower end, as if she were going for firewood, there
cross the creek at the ford, an 1 drive them to the
willow blufi', and guard tliem till the Inuiters should
arrive.

Having settled this, Joe returned to the tent and
infojiued his comrades of his success.

During the next three days Joe kept the Indians in
good-humour by giving them one or two trinkets, and
speaking in glowing terms of the richi^s of the white
men, and the readiness with which tii' y would part
with them to the savages if they would only make
peace.

Meanwhile, during the dark liours of each night,
Dick managed to abstract small quantities of goods
from their pack, in room of v^icli he stuffe<l in pieces
of leather to keep up the size and appearance. Thv
goods thus taken out ho concealed about ids pe ^on, and
went off with a careless swagger to tlie outskirts of

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

j-f

the village, with Crusoe at his heels, iVrrived there,
he tied the goods in a small piece of deerskin, and gave
the bundle to the dog, with the injunction, " Ttdce it
yonder, pup."

Crusoe took it up at once, darted off' at full speed
w^ith the bundle in his month, down the shore of the
lake towards the ford of the river, and was soon lost
to view. In this way, little by little, the goods w^ere
conveyed by the faithful dog to the willow blufr and
leit there, while the stuffed pack still remained in safe
keeping in the chief's tent.

Joe did not at first like the idea of thus sneak n;:
from the camp, and more than once made strong efforts
to induce San-it-sa-rish to let him go ; but even that
chief's countenance was not so favourable as it had been.
It was clear that he could not make up his mind to let
slip so good a chance af obtaining guns, powder and
shot, horses, and goods, without any trouble , so Joe
made up his mind to give them the slip at once.

A dark night was chosen for the attempt, and the
Indian woman went off with the horses to the place
where firewood for the camp was usually cut. Unfor-
tunately, the suspicion of that wily savage Mahtawa
had been awakened, and he stuck close to the hunters
all day — not knowing what was going on, but feeling
convinced that something was brewing v/hich he re-
solved to watch, without mentioning his suspicions to
any one.

" I think that villain's away at last," whispered Joe
to his comrades. "It's time to go, lads; the noon
won't be up for an hour. Come along."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

13^^

the
(lace
ifor-
Itawa
iters
iling
re-
\s to

Joe
kioon

" Have ye got the big powder-horn, Joe ? "

" Ay, ay, all right."

" Stop ! stop ! iny knife, my coutean. Ah, here I be I
Now. boy."

The three set ott' as usual, strolling carelessly to the
outskirts of the camp ; then they quickened their pace,
and, gaining the lake, pushed oft' in a small canoe.

At the same moment Mahtawa stepped from the
bushes, leaped into another canoe, and followed them.

" Ha ! he must die," muttered Henri.

" Not at all," said Joe ; " we'll manage him without
that."

The chief landed and strode boldly up to them, for
he knew well that whatever their purpose might be
they would not venture to use their rifles within sound
of the camp at that hour of the night. As for tlieir
knives, he could trust to his owr active limbs and the
woods to escape and give the alarm if need be.

" The Pale-faces hunt very late," ho said, with a
malicious grin. " Do they love the dark better than
the sunshine ? "

" Not so," replied Joe, coolly ; " but we love to
walk by the light of the moon. It will be up in less
than an hour, and we mean to take a long ramble to-
night."

" The Pawnee chief loves to walk by the moon, too ;
he will go with the Pale-faces."

" Good ! " ejaculated Joe. " Come along, then."

The party immediately set forward, although the
savage was a little taken by surprise at the inditl'erent
way in which Joe rec<!ived his proposal to accompany

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

them. He walked on to the edge of the prairie, how-
ever, and then stopped.

" The Pale-faces must go alone," said he ; " Mahtawa
will return to his tent."

Joe replied to this intimation by seizing him suddenly
by the throat and choking back the yell that would
otherwise have brought the Pawnee warriors rushinq; to
the scene of action in hundreds. Mahtawa's hand was
on the handle of his scalping-knife in a moment, but
before, he 'ould draw it his arms were glued to his sides
by the beai. , ; embrace of Henri, while Dick tied a
handkerchief quickly yet firmly round his mouth. The
whole thing was accomplished in two minutes. After
taking his knife and tomahawk away, they loosened
their gripe and escorted him swiftly over the prairie.

Mahtawa was perfectly submissive after the first
convulsive struggle was over. He knew that the men
who walked on each side of him grasping his arms were
more than his match singly, so he wisely made no re-
sistance.

Hurrying him to a clump of small trees on the plain
which was so far distant from the village that a yell
could not be heard, they removed the bandage from
Mahtawa's mouth.

" ]\fast he be kill ? " inquired Henri, in a tone of
cor.iiiiseration.

" Not at all," answered Joe ; " we'll tie him to a tree
and leave him here."

" Then he vill bo starve to deaf. Oh, dat is more
horrobell ! "

" He must take his chance o' that. I've no doubt

lore

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

185

■

his friends '11 find him in a day or two, an' he's game
to last for a week or more. But you'll hav^e to run to
the willow blufi* Dick, and bring a bit of line to tie him.
We can't spare it well ; but there's no help."

" But there is help," retorted Dick. " Just order the
villain to climb into that tree."

" Why so, lad ? "

" Don't ask questions, but do what I bid ye."

The hunter smiled for a moment as he turned to the
Indian, and ordered him to climb up a small tree near
to which he stood. Mahtawa looked surprised, but
there was no alternative Joe's authoritative tone
brooked no delay, so he sprang into the tree like a
monkey.

" Crusoe," said Dick, " watck hhii ! "

The dog sat quietly down at the foot of the tree, and
lixed his eyes on the savage with a glare that spoke
unutterable things. At the same time he displayed his
full complement of teeth, and uttered a sound like
distant thunder.

Joe almost laughed, and Henri did laugh out-
right.

" Come along ; he's safe now," cried Dick, hurrying
away in the direction of the willow bluff', which they
soon reached, and found that the faithful squaw had
tied their steeds to the bushes, and, moreover, had
bundled up their goods into a pack, and strapped it on
the back of the pack-horse ; but she had not remained
with them.

" Bless yer dark face ! " ejaculated Joe, as he sprang
into the saddle and rode out of the clump of bushes.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

He was followed immediately by the others, and in
three minutes they were flying over the plain at full
speed.

On gaining the last fai'-off ridge, that afforded a
distant view of the woods skirting the Pawnee camp,
they drew up ; and Dick, putting his fingers to his
mouth, drew a long, shrill whistle.

It reached the willow bluff' like a faint echo. At the
same moment the moon arose and more clearly revealed
Crusoe's cataleptic glare at the Indian chief, who, being
utterly unarmed, was at the dog's mercy. The instant
the whistle fell on his ear, however, he dropped his eyes,
covered his teeth, and, leaping through the bushes, flew
over the plains like an arrow. At the same instant
Mahtawa, descending from his tree, ran as fast as he
could towards the village, uttering the terrible war-
whoop when near enough to be heard. No sound sends
such a thrill through an Indian camp. Every warrior
flew to arms, and vaulted on his steed. So quickly
was the alarm given that in less than ten minutes a
thousand hoofs were thundering on the plain, and
faintly reached the ears of the fugitives.

Joe smiled. " It'll puzzle them to come up wi' nags
like ours. They're in prime condition, too — lots o' wind
in 'em. If we only keep out o' badger holes we may
laugh at the red varmints."

Joe's opinion of Indian horses was correct. In a very
few minutes the sound of hoofs died away ; but the
fugitives did not draw bridle during the remainder of
that night, for they knew not how long the pursuit
might be continued. By pond, and brook, and bluff'

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

137

they passed, clown in the grassy bottoms and over the
pran-ie waves— nor checked their headlong course till
the sun blazed over the level sweep of the eastern plain
as if it arose out of the mighty ocean.

Then they sprang from the saddle, and hastily set
about the preparation of their morning meal.

' {

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CHAPTER XL

Eirnnif) nirditfitinjin and morning reflections — Buffaloes, l/tah/crs, antdopm, and
accidents — Aii, old bull and the loolves—'''' Mad tails" — Henri floured, etc.

THERE is nothing that prepares one so well for the
enjoyment oi* rest, botli mental and physical, as a
long-protracted period of excitement and anxiety, fol-
lowed up by bodily fatigue. Excitement alone banishes
rest ; but, united with severe physical exertion, it pre-
pares for it. At least, courteous reader, this is our
experience ; and certainly this was the experience uf our
three hunters as they lay on their backs beneath the
branches of a willow bush and gazed serenely up at the
twinkling stars two days after their escape from the
Indian village.

They spoke little ; they were too tired for that, also
they were too comfortable. Their respective suppers of
fresh antelope steak, shot that day, had just been dis-
posed of. Their feet were directed towards the small
tire on which the said steaks had been cooked, and
which still threw a warm, ruddy glow over the encamp-
ment. Their blankets were wrapped comfortably round
them, and tucked in as only hunters and mothers know
liov) to tuck them in. Their respective pipes delivered
forth, at stated intervals, three richly yellow puffs of

THE DOG CRUSOE.

139

le
le

smoke, as if a three-gun battery were playing upon the
sky from that particular spot of earth. The horses
were picketed and liobbled in a rich grassy bottom close
by, from which the quiet munch of their equine jaws
sounded pleasantly, for it told of healthy appetites,
and promised speed on the morrow. The fear of being
overtaken during the night was now past, and the
faithful Crusoe, by virtue of sight, hearing, and smell,
cjuaranteed them against sudden attack durinij the hours
of slumber. A perfume of wild flowers mingled with
the loved odours of the " weed," and the tinkle of a
tiny rivulet fell sweetly on their ears. In shoi't, the
" I'ale-faces " were supr'^- ely happy, and disposed to be
thankful for their recent deliverance and their present
comforts.

" I wonder what the stars are," said Dick, languidly
taking the pipe out of his mouth.

" Bits o' fire," suggested Joe.

" I tink dey are vorlds," muttered Henri, " an' have
peepels in dem. I have hear men say dat."

A long silence followed, duruig which, no doubt, the
.star-gazers were working out various theories in their
own minds.

" Wonder," said Dick again, " how far off they be."

" A mile or two, maybe," said Joe.

Henri was about to lauiih sarcastically at this, but
on fiu'ther consideratiori he thought it would be more
comfortable not to, so he lay still. In another minute
he said, —

" Joe Blunt, you is ver' igrant. Don't you know dat
de books say de stars be hondreds, tousands — oh 1

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140

THE DOG CRUSOE

milleryons of mile away to here, and dat dey is more
bigger dan dis vorld ? "

Joe snored liglitly, and his pipe fell out of his
mouth at this point, so the conversation dropped.
Presently Dick asked in a low tone, " I say, Henri,
are ye asleep ? "

" Oui," replied Henr}' faintly. " Don't speak, or you
vill vaken me."

" Ah, Crusoe ! you're not asleep, are you, pup ?" No
need to ask that question. The instantaneous wag of
that speaking tail and the glance of that wakeful eye,
as the dosx lifted his head and laid his chin on Dick's
arm, showed that he had been listening to every word
that was spoken. We cannot say whether he under-
stood it, but beyond all doubt he heard it. Crusoe
never presumed to think of going to sleep until his
master was as sound as a top, then he ventured to indulge
in that light species of slumber which is familiarly known
as "sleeping with one eye open." But, comparatively as
well as figuratively speaking, Crusoe slept usually with
one eye and a half open, and the other half was never
very tightly shut.

Gradually Dick's pipe fell out of his mouth, an
event which the dog, with an exercise of instinct al-
most, if not quite, amounting to reason, regarded as a
signal for him to go off. The camp lire went slowly
out, the stars twinkled down at their reflecHons in the
brook, and a deep breathing of wearied men was the
only sound that rose in harmony with the purling
stream.

Before the sun rose next morning, and while many of

THE DOG CRUSOE.

141

the brighter stars were still struggling for existence
with the approaching clay, Joe was up and buckling on
the saddle-bags, while he shouted to his unwilling com-
panions to rise.

" If it depended on you," he said, " the Pawnees
wouldn't be long afore they got our scalps. Jump, ye
dogs, an' lend a hand, will ye ? "

A snore from Dick and a deep sigh from Henri was
the answer to this pathetic appeal. It so happened,
however, that Henri's pipe, in falling from his lips, had
emptied the ashes just under his nose, so that the sigh
referred to drew a quantity thereof into his throat and
almost choked him. Nothing could have been a more
effective awakener. He was up in a moment coughing
vociferously. Most men have a tendency to vent ill-
humour on some one, and they generally do it on one
whom they deem to be worse than themselves. Henri,
therefore, instead of growling at Joe for rousing him,
scolded Dick for not rising.

" Ha, mauvais dog ! bad chien ! vill you dare to look
to me ? "

Crusoe did look with amiable placidity, as though to
say, " Howl away, old boy, I won't budge till Dick does."

With a mighty effort Giant Sleep was thrown off at
last, and the hunters were once more on their journey,
cantering lightly over the soft turf.

" Ho, let's have a run ! " cried Dick, unable to repress
the feelings aroused by the exhilarating morning air.

" Have a care, boy," cried Joe, as they stretched out
at full gallop. •' Keep off the ridge ; it's riddled wi
Ha

badger —

I thought so."

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

At tliat moment Dick's horse put its foot into a
baclger-hole and turned completely over, sending its
rider throuoh the air in a curve that an East Indian
acrobat would have envied. For a few seconds Dick
lay fiat on his back, then he jumped up and laughed,
while his comrades hurried up anxiously to his assistance.

" No bones broi^e ? " inquired Joe.

Dick gave a hysterical gasp. " I — I think not."

" Let's have a look. No, nothin' to speak o', be
good luck. Ye should niver go slap through a badger
country. like that, boy ; always keep i' the bottoms, where
the grass is short. Now then, up ye go. That's it ! "

Dick remounted, though not with quite so elastic a
spring as usual, and they pushed forward at a more
reasonable pace.

Accidents of this kind are of common occurrenc
the prairies. Some horses, however, are so well trained
that they look sharp out for these holes, which are gen-
erally found to be most numerous on the high and dry
grounds. But in spite of all the caution both of man
and horse many ugly falls take place, and sometimes
bones are broken.

They had not gone far after this accident when an
antelope leaped from a clump of willows, and made for
a belt of woodland that lay along the margin of a stream
not half-a-mile off.

"Hurrah!" cried Dick, foro-ettino- his recent fall.
" Come along, Crusoe." And away they went again
full tilt, for the horse had not been injured by its
somersault.

The antelope which Dick was thus wildly pursuing

in
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THE DOG CRU.SOE.

143

was of the same .species as the one he had shot sonic
time before — namely, the prong-horned antelope. These
graceful creatures have long, slender limbs, delicately-
formed heads, and large, beautiful eyes. The horns are
black, and rather short; they have no branches, like
the antlers of the red-deer, but have a single projection
on each horn, near the head, and the extreme points
of the horns curve suddenly inwards, forming the
hook or prong from which the name of the animal
is derived. Their colour is dark yellowish brown.
They are so fleet that not one hoi-se in a hundred
can overtake them ; and their sight and sense of smell
are so acute that it would be next to impossible to kill
them, were it not for the inordinate curiosity which
we have before referred to. The Indians manage to
attract these simple little creatures by merely lying
down on their backs and kicking their heels in the air,
or by waving any white object on the point of an arrow,
while the hunter keeps concealed by lying flat in the
grass. By these means a herd of antelopes may bo
induced to wheel round and round an object in timid
but intense surprise, gradually approaching until they
come near enough to enable the hunter to make sure of
his mark. Thus the animals, which of all others oufjld
to be the most difficult to slay, are, in consequence of
their insatiable curiosity, more easily shot than any other
deer of the plains.

May we not gently suggest to the reader for his or
her consideration that there are human antelopes, so to
speak, whose case bears a striking tesemblance to the
prong-horn of the North American prairie ?

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

Dick's horse was no match for the antelope, neither
was Crusoe ; so they pulled up shortly and returned to
their companions, to be laughed at.

" It's no manner o' use to win'l yer horse, lad, after
sich game. They're not much worth, an', if I mistake
not, we'll be among the buffalo soon. There's fresh
tracks everywhere, and the herds are scattered now. Yc
see, when they keep together in bands o' thousands ye
don't so often fall in wi' them. But when they scatters
about in twos, an' threes, an' sixes, ye may shoot them
every day as much as ye please."

Several groups of buffalo had alieady been seen on
the horizon, but as a red -deer had been shot in a belt
of woodland the day before they did not pursue them.
The red-deer is very much larger than the prong-horned
antelope, and is highly esteemed both for its flesh and
its skin, which latter becomes almost like chamois
leather when dressed. Notwithstanding this supply of
food, the 1 unters could not resist the temptation to give
chase to a herd of about nine buffaloes that suddenly
came into view as they overtopped an undulation in the
plain.

" It's no use," cried Dick, ' T must go at them ! "

Joe hnnself caught fire from the spirit of his young
friend, so calling to Henri to come on and let the pack-
horse remaii\ to feed, he dashed away in pursuit. The
buffaloes gave one stare of surprise, and then fled as fast
as possible. At first it seemed as if such huge, un-
wieldy carca.sses could not run very fast; but in a few
minutes they managed to get up a pacj that put the
horses to their mettle. Indeed, at first it seemed as if

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146

the himter.s did not gain an inch ; but by deg-rees they
closed with them, for bnttaloes are not long winded.

On nearino- the herd, the three men divercjed from
each other and selected their animals. Henri, being
short-sighted, naturally singled out the largest ; and the
largest — also naturally — was a tough old bull. Joe
brought down a fat young cow at the first shot, and
Dick was equally fortunate. But he well-nigh shot
Crusoe, who, just as he was about to fire, rushed in un-
expectedly and sprang at the animal's throat, for which
piece of recklessness ho was ordered back to watch the
pack-horse.

Meanwhile, Henri, by dint of yelling, throwing his
arms wildly about, and digging his heels into the sides
of his long-legged horse, succeeded in coming close up
with the bull, which once or twice turned his clumsy
body half round and glared furiously at its pursuer
with its small black eyes. Suddenly it stuck out its
tail, stopped short, and turned full round. Henri stopped
short also. Now, the sticking out of a bufifalo's tail has
a peculiar significance which it is well to point out. It
serves, in a sense, the same purpose to the hunter that
the compass does to the mariner — it points out where to
go and what to do. When galloping away in ordinary
fiight, the buft'alo carries his tail like ordinary cattle,
which indicates that you may push on. When wounded,
he lashes it from side to side, or carries it over his back,
up in the air ; this indicates, " Look out ! haul ofi' a
bit'!" But when he carries it stiff and horizontal, with
a dighf curve in the middle of it, it says plainly, " Keep
back, or kill nic as quick as you can," for that is what

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

Indians call the mad tail, and is a sign that mischief is
brewing.

Henri's bull displayed the mad tail just before turning,
but he didn't observe it, and, accordingly, waited for the
bull to move and show his shoulder for a favourable
shot. But instead of doing this he put liis head down,
and, foamino; Avith raoe, went at him full tilt. The biix
horse never stirred ; it seemed to be petrified. Henri
had just time to fire at the monster's neck, and the next
moixient was sprawling on his back, with the horse roll-
ing over four or five j^ards beyond him. It was a most
effective tableau — Henri rubbino- his shins and cTinning
with pain, the horse gazing in afi'right as he rose -trem-
bling from the plain, and the bufialo bull looking on
half stunned, and evidently very much surprised at the
result of his charge.

Fortunately, before he could repeat the experiment,
Dick galloped up and put a ball through his heart.

Joe and his comrades felt a little ashamed of their
exploit on this occasion, for there was no need to have
killed three animals — they could not have carried with
them more than a small portion of one — and they up-
braided themselves several times dining the operation of
cutting out the tongues and other choice portions of the
two victims. As for the bull, he was almost totally
useless, so they left him as a gift to the wolves.

Now that they had come among the buffalo, wolves
were often seen sneaking about and licking their hungry
jaws; but although tJiey approached pretty near to the
camp at nights, tliey did not give the hunters any con-
cern. Even Crusoe became accustomed to them at last,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

147

and ceased to notice them. These creatures are very
dangerous sometimes, however, and when hard pressed
by hunger will even attack man. The day after this
hunt the travellers came upon a wounded old buflalo
which had evidently escaped from the Indians (for a
couple of arrows were sticking in its side), only to fall
a prey to his deadly enemies, the white wolves. These
savaoe brutes hano- on the skirts of the herds of buffaloes
to attack and devour any one that may chance, from
old age or from being wounded, to linger behind the rest.
The butlalo is tough and fierce, however, and fights so
desperately that, although surrounded by fifty or a
hundred wolves, he keeps up the unecpial combat for
several days before he finally succumbs.

The old bull that our travellers discovered had evi-
dently been long engaged with his ferocious adver-
sai'ies, for his limbs and flesh were torn in shreds in
many places, and blood was streaming from his sides.
Yet he had foufjlit so •iuiiantlv that he had tossed and
stamped to death dozens of tl^c enemy. There could
not have been fewer than fifty wolves round him; and
they had just concluded another of many futil' attacks
when tlio hunters came up, for they weiv innged in a
circle round their huge adversary — some h'^^S <^^o^^'*b
some sitting on their haunches to rest, and othors sneak-
ing about, lolling out their red tongues and ' -king their
chops as if impatient to renew the combat. The poor
buffalo was nearly spent, and it was clear that a few
hours more would see him torn to shreds and his bones
picked clean.

"Ugh ! de brutes," ejaculated Henri.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" They don't seem to mind us a bit," remarked Dick,
as they rode up to within pistol shot.

" It'll be merciful to give the old fellow a shot," said
Joe. "Them varmints are sure to finish him at last."

Joe raised his rifle as he spoke, and fired. The old
bull gave his last groan and fell, while the wolves,
alarmed by the shot, fled in all directions ; but they did
not run far. They knew w^ell that some portion, at
least, of the carcass Avould tall to their share ; so th^v
sat. down at various distances all round, to wait as
patiently as they might for the hunters to retire. Dick
left the scene wdth a feelino- of rec^ret that the villanous
wolves should have their feast so much sooner than they
expected.

Yet, after all, why should we call these wolves vil-
lanous ? They did nothing wrong — nothing contrary to
the laws of their peculiar nature. Nay, if we come to
reason upon it, they rank higher in this matter than
man; for while the wolf does no violence to the laws of
its instincts, man often deliberately silences the voice of
conscience, and violates the laws of his own nature.
But we will not insist on the term, good reader, if you
object .strongly to it. We are willing to admit that the
wolves are not villanous, but, assuredly, they are un-
lovable.

In the course of the afternoon th(^ tliree horsemen
reached a small creek, the banks of which were lined
with a few stunted shrubs and trees. Having eaten
nothing since the night before, they dismounted here to
" feed," as Joe expr(\ssed it.

" Cur'oUH thing," remarked Joe, as he struck a light

THE DOG CRUSOE.

149

by means of flint, steel, and tinder-box — " cur'ous thing
that we're made to need sich a lot ' ' grub. If we could
only get on like the sarpints, now, wot can breakfast on
a rabbit, and then wait a montli or two for dinner !
Ain't it cur'ous ? "

Dick admitted that it was, and stooped to blow the
fire into a blaze.

Here Henri uttered a cry of consternation, and stood
speechless, with his mouth open.

" What's the matter ? what is't ? " cried Dick and Joe,
seizing their rifles instinctively,

" De — grub — him — be — forgat ! '

There was a look of blank horror, and then a burst
of laughter from Dick A^arley. " Well, well," cried he,
" we've got lots o' tea an' sugar, an' some flour ; we can
git on wi' that till we shoot another buflfalo, or a — ha!"

Dick observed a wild turkey stalking among the
willows as he spoke. It was fully a hundred yards ofl*
and only its head was seen above the leaves. This was
a matter of little moment, however, for by aiming a
little lower he knew that he must hit the body. But
Dick had driven the nail too often to aim at its body ;
he aimed at the bird's eye, and cut its head ofl*.

" Fetch it, Crusoe."

In three minutes it was at Dick's foet, and it is not
too much to say that in Ave minutes more it was in the
pot.

As this unexpected supply made up for the loss of the
meat which Henri had forgotten at their last halting-
place, their equanimity was restored ; and while the meal
was in preparation Dick shouldered his rifle and went

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

into the bush to try for another turkey. He did not
get one, however, but he shot a couple of prairie-hens,
which are excellent eating. Moreover, he found a large
quantity of wild grapes and plums. These were un-
fortunately not nearly ripe, but Dick resolved to try his
hand at a new dish, so he stuti'ed the breast of his coat
full of them.

After the pot was emptied, Dick washed it out, and
put a little clean water in it. Then he poured some
Hour in, and stirred it well. While this was heating, he
squeezed the sour grapes and plums into what Joe
called a " mush," mixed it with a spoonful of sugar, and
emptied it into the pot. He also skimmed a quantity
of the fat from the remains of the turkey soup and
added that to the mess, which he stirred with earnest
diligence till it boiled down into a sort of thick por-
ridge.

" D'ye think it'll be good ? " asked Joe gravely ; " I've
me doubts of it."

« We'll see.— Hold the tin dish, Henri."

" Take care of de fingers. Ha ! it looks magnifique
— superb ! "

The first spoonful produced an expression on Henri's
face that needed not to be interpreted. It was as sour

as vinegar.

"Ye'll ha' to eat it yerself, Dick, lad," cried Joe,
throwing down his .spoon, and spitting out the un-
savoury mess.

" Nonsense," cried Dick, bolting two or three mouth-
fuls, and trying to look as if he liked it. " Try again ;
it's not so bad as you think."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

151

" Ho-o-o-o-o ! " cried Henri, after the second uiontht'ul.
" 'Tis vinegre. All de sugare in de pack would not
make more sweeter one bite of it."

Dick was obliged to confess the dish a failure, so it
was thrown out after having been offered to Crusoe,
who gave it one snitf and turned away in silence. Then
they mounted and resumed their journey.

At this place mosquitoes and horse-flies troLd)led oui"
hunters and their steeds a good deal. The latter especi-
ally were very annoying to the poor horses. They bit
them so much that the blood at last came trickling
down their sides. They were troubled also, once or
twice, l>y cockchafers and locusts, which annoyed them,
not indeed by biting, but V-y fiylng blindly against their
faces, and often narrowly missed hitting them in the
eyes. Once particularly they w^erc so bad that Henri
in his wrath opened his lips to pronounce a malediction
on the whole race, when a cockchafer flew straight into
his mouth, and, to use his own forcible expression,
" nearly knocked him off de boss." But these were
minor evils, and scarcely cost the hunters a thought.

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I. I

CHAPTER XII.

Wanderings on the prairie — A ivar party— Chased hy Indians — A hold

leap for life.

FOR many daj'-s the three hunters wandered over
the trackless prairie in search of a village of the
Sioux Indians, but failed to find one, for the Indians
were in the habit of shifting their ground and following
the buffalo. Several times they saw small isolated bands
of Indians ; but these they carefully avoided, fearing
they might turn out to be war parties, and if they fell
into their hands the white men could not expect civil
treatment, whatever nation the Ix.iians might belong to.

During the greater portion of this time they met with
numerous herds of buffalo and deer, and were well sup-
plied with food ; but they had to cook it during the day,
being afraid to light a fire at night while Indians were
prowling about.

One night they halted near the bed of a stream whicli
was almost dry. They had travelled a day and a night
without water, and both men and horses were almost
choking, so that when they saw the trees on the horizon
which indicated tlie presence of a stream, they pushed
forward with almost frantic haste.

" Hope it's not dry," said Joe anxiously as they gal-

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

153

loped up to it. " No, there's water, lads," and they
dashed forward to a pool that Lad not yet been dried
up. They drank long and eagerly before they noticed
that the pool was strongly hnpregna^ed with salt. Many
streams in those parts of the prairies are quite salt, but
fortunately this one was not utterly undrinkable, though
it was very unpalatable.

" We'll make it better, lads," said Joe, digging a deep
hole in the sand with his hands, a little below the pool.
In a short time the water iiltered through, and though
not rendered fresh, it was, nevertheless, much ir^iproved.

" We may light a fire to-night, d'ye think ? " inquired
Dick ; " we've not seed Injuns for some days."

" P'raps 'twould be better not," said Joe ; " but I dare-
say we're safe enough."

A fire was therefore lighted in as sheltered a spot as
could be found, and the three friends Invouacked as
usual. Towards dawn they were aroused by an angry
growl from Crusoe.

" It's a wolf likely," said Dick, but all three seized and
cocked their rifles nevertheless.

Again Crusoe growled more angrily than before, and
springing out of the camp snufi'ed the breeze anxiously.

" Up, lads ! catch the nags ! There's something in the
wind, for the dog niver did that afore."

In a few seconds the horses were saddled and the
packs secured.

" Call in the dog," whispered Joe Blunt ; " if he barks
they'll find out our whereabouts."

" Here, Crusoe, come — "

It was too late ; the dog barked loudly and savagely

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

at the moment, and a troop of Indians came coursing
over the plain. On hearing the unwonted sound they
wheeled directly and made for the camp.

" It's a war party ; fly, lads ! nothin' '11 save our
scalps now but our horses' heels," cried Joe.

In a moment they vaulted into the saddle and urged
their steeds forward at the utmost speed. The savages
observed them, and with an exulting yell dashed after
them. Feeling that there was now no need of conceal-
ment, the three horsemen struck off' into the open prairie,
intending to depend entirely on the speed and stamina
of their horses. As we have before remarked, they
were good ones ; but the Indians soon proved that they
were equally well if not better mounted.

" It'll be a hard run," said Joe in a low, muttering
tone, and looking furtively over his shoulder. " The
varmints are mounted on wild horses — leastways they
were wild not long agone. Them chaps can throw the
lasso and trip a mustang as well as a Mexican. Mind
the badger-holes, Dick. — Hold in a bit, Henri ; yer nag
don't need drivin' ; a foot in a hole just now would
cost us our scalps. Keep down by the creek, lads."

" Ha ! how dey yell," said Henri in a savage tone,
looking back, and shaking his rifle at them, an act that
caused them to yell more flercely than ever. *' Dis old
pack-hoss give me moche trobel."

The pace was now tremendous. Piu'suers and pur-
sued rose and sanlv on the prairie billows as they swept
along, till they came to what is termed a " dividing
ridge," which is a cross wave, as it were, that cuts the
others in two, thus forming a continuous level. Here

THE DOG CRUSOE.

155

ive our

they advanced more easily ; but the advantage was
equally shared with their pursuers, who continued the
headlong pursuit with occasional yells, which served to
show the fugitives that they at least did not gain
rrround.

A little to the rio-ht of the direction in which thev
were flying a blue line was seen on the horizon. This
indicated the existence of trees to Joe's practised eyes,
and feeling that if the horses broke down they could
better make a last manful stand in the wood than on
the plain he urged his steed towards it. The savages
noticed the movement at once, and uttered a yell of
exultation, for they regarded it as an evidence that the
fugitives doubted the strength of their horses.

" Ye haven't got us yet," muttered Joe, with a sar-
donic grin. " If they get near us, Dick, keep yer eyes
open an' look out for yer neck, else they'll drop a noose
over it, they will, afore ye know they're near, an' haul
ye off like a sack."

Dick nodded in reply, but did not speak, for at that
moment his eye was fixed on a small creek ahead which
they must necessarily leap or dash across. It was
lined with clumps of scattered shrubbery, and he
glanced rapidly for the most suitable place to pass.
Joe and Henri did the same, and having diverged a
little to the different points chosen, they dashed through
the shrubbery and were hid from each other's view.
On approaching the edge of the stream, Dick found to
his consternation that the bank was twenty feet high
opposite him, and too wide for any horse to clear.
Wheeling aside without checking speed, at the risk of

156

THE DOG CRUHOE.

''li

throwing his steed, he rode along the margin of the
stream for a few hundred yards until he found a ford
— at least such a spot as might be cleared by a bold
leap. The temporary check, however, had enabled an
Indian to gain so close upon his heels that his exulting
yell sounded close in his ear.

With a vigorous bound his gallant little horse went
over. Crusoe could not take it, but he rushed down
the one bank and up the other, so that he only lost a
few yards. These few yards, however, were sufficient
to bring the Indian close upon him as he cleared the
stream at full gallop. The savage whirled his lasso
swiftly round for a second, and in another moment
Crusoe uttered a tremendous roar as he was tripped up
violently on the plain.

Dick heard the cry of his faithful dog, and turned
quickly round, just in time to see him spring at the
horse's throat, and bring both steed and rider r* Avn
upon him. Dick's heart leaped to his throat. Had a
thousand savages been rushing on him he would have
Hown to the rescue of his favourite ; but an unexpected
obstacle came in the way. His fiery little steed, ex-
cited by the headlong race and the howls of the Indians,
had taken the bit in his teeth and was now unmanage-
able. Dick tore at the reins like a maniac, and in the
height of his frenzy even raised the butt of his rifle with
the intent to strike the poor horse to the earth, but his
better nature prevailed. He checked the uplifted hand,
and with a groan dropped the reins, and sank alnost
helplessly forward on the saddle ; for several of the In-
dians had left the main body and were pursuing him

THE DOG CRUSOE.

alono, so that there would have been now no chance of
his reachhig the place where Crusoe fell, even if he could
have turned his horse.

Spiritless, and utterly indifferent to what his fate
might be, Dick Varley rode along with his head droop-
ing, and keeping his seat almost mechanically, while the
mettlesome little steed flew on over wave and hollow.
Gradually he awakened from this state of despair to a
sense of dani^er. Glancing round he observed that the
Indians were now far behind him, though still pursuing.
He also observed that his companions were galloping
miles away on the horizon to the left, and that he had
foolishly allowed the savages to get between him and
them. The only chance that remained for him was to
outride his pursuers, and circle round towards his com-
rades, and this he hoped to accomplish, for his little
horse had now proved itself to be superior to those of the
Indians, and there was good ruiming in him still.

Ursfinix him forward, therefore, he soon left the savaoes
still farther behind, and feeling confident that they could
not now overtake him he reined up and dismounted.
The pursuers quickly drew near, but short though it
was the rest did his horse good. Vaulting into the
saddle, he again stretched out, and now skirted along
the margin of a wood which seemed to mark the position
of a river of considerable size.

At this moment his horse put his foot into a badger-
hole, and both of them came heavily to the ground.
In an instant Dick rose, picked up his gun, and leaped
unhurt into the saddle. But on urging his poor horse
forward he found that its shoulder was badly sprained.

158

THP: dog CRUSOE.

There was no room for inercj, however — life and death
werr in the balance — -so ho plied the lash vigorously,
and the noble steed warmed into something like o run,
when aoain it stumbled, and fell with a crash on tlic
groinid, while the blood burst from its mouth and nos-
trils. Dick could hear the shout of triumph uttered by
his pursuers.

" My poor, poor horse ! " he exclaimed in a tone of the
deepest commiseration, while he stooped and stroked its
foam-studded neck.

The dying steed raised its head for a moment, it al-
most seemed a;> if to acknowledge the tones of affection,
then it sank down with a gurgling groan.

])ick sprang up, for the Indians were now upon him,
and bounded like an antelope into the thickest of the
shrubbery ; wlnich was jiowher > tliick enough, however,
to prevent the Indians following. Still, it sufficiently
r(>tarded them to render the chase a more equal one than
could have been expected. In a few minutes Dick
gained a strip of open ground b'jyond, and found
himself on the bank of a broad river, whose evidently
deep waters rushed impetuously along their unob-
structed channel. The bank at the spot where ho
reached it was a sheer precipice of bet'ween thirty and
forty feet high. Glancing up and down the rive:.* he
retreated a few paces, turned round and shook his
clenched fist at the savages, acconipanying the action
with .; .shout of defiance, and tiien running to the edge
of iho bank, sprang far out into the boiling flood and
sank.

The Indians pulled up ni reaching the spot. There

THE DOG CRUSOE.

was no possibility of giillopiiig down the wood-oncnni-
beved banks aftei" the fugitive; but quick as tbouglit
each Red-man leaped to the ground, and fitting an arrow
to his bow, awaited Dick's re-appearance with eager

gaze.

Young though he was, and unskilled in such wild
warfare, Dick knew well enough what sort of reception
he wonld meet with on coming to the surface, so he kept
nnder water as long as he could, and struck out as vigor-
ously as the care of his riile would permit. At last h(i
rose for a few seconds, and innnediately half-a-dozen
arrows whizzed through the air ; Init most of them fell
short — only one passed close to his cheek, and wei.t with
a " whip " into the river. He immediately sank again,
and the next time he rose to breathe he was far beyond
th(i reach of his Indian en(Mnies.

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CHAPTER XIIL

Kica pr^ from Indiana — .-1 discoirrii — Alone in the desert.

DICK VAllLEY had spent so much of his boyhood
in sporting about among the waters of the rivers
and lakes near which he had been reared, and especially
during the last two years had spent so much of his
leisure time in rollino- and divino- with his doo- Crusoe

O c5 »Ti

in the lake of the j\lustang Valley, that he had become
almost as expert in the water as a South Sea islander ;
so that when he found himself whirling down the rapid
river, as already described, he was more impressed with
a feeling of gratitude to God for his escape from the
Indians than anxiety about getting ashore.

He was not altogether blind or indifferent to the
danijer into which he miyht be hurled if the channel of
the river should be found lower down to bo broken with
rocks, or should a waterfall um^xpectedly appear. After
floating down a suflleient distance to render piu'suit
out of the qu(^stion, he struck into the bank opposite to
that from which he had plunged, and clambering up
to the greensward al)0ve, stripped off the greater part
of his clothing and hung it on the branches of a bush to
dry. Then ho sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree

THE DOG CRUSOE.

to consider what course he had best pursue in his pre-
sent circumstances.

These circumstances were by no means calculated to
inspire him with hope or comfort. He was in the
midst of an unknown wilderness, hundreds of miles
from any white man's settlement ; surrounded by
savages ; without food or blanket ; his companions
gone, he knew not whither — perhaps taken and killed
by the Indians ; his horse dead ; and his dog, the most
trusty and loving of all his friends, lost to him, pro-
bably, for ever ! A more veteran heart might have
quailed in the midst of such accumulated evils ; but
Dick Varley possessed a strong, young, and buoyant
constitution, which, united with a hopefulness of dispo-
sition that almost nothing could overcome, enabled him
very quickly to cast aside the gloomy view of his case
and turn to its brighter aspects.

He still grasped his good rifle, that was some comfort ;
and as his eye fell upon it, he turned with anxiety to
examine into the condition of his powder-horn and the
few things that he had been fortunate enough to carry
away wHh hini about his person.

The horn in which western hunters carry their powder
is usually that of an ox. It is closed up at the large
end with a piece of hard wood fitted tightly into it, and
the small end is closed with a wooden peg or stopper.
It is therefore completely water-tight, and may be for
hours innnersed without the powder getting wet, unless
the stopper should chance to be knocked out. Dick
found, to his great satisfaction, that the stopper was
fast and the powder perfectly diy. Moreover, he had

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

by good fortune filled it full two days before from the
package that contained the general stock of ammunition,
so that there were only two or three charges out of it.
His percussion caps, however, were completely destroyed ;
and ev^en though they had not been, it would have mat-
tered little, for he did not possess more than half-a-dozen.
But this was not so great a misfortune as at first it
might seem, for he had the spare flint locks and the little
screw-driver necessary for fixing and unfixing them
stowed away in his shot pouch.

To examine his supply of bullets was his next care,
and slowly he counted them out, one by one, to the
number of thirty. This was a pretty fair supply, and
with careful economy would last him many days. Hav-
ing relieved his mind on these all-important points,
he carefullj'' examined every pouch and corner of his
dress to ascertain the exact amount and value of his
wealth.

Besides the leather leo-o-injrs moccasins, deerskin luuit-
ing-shirt, cap, and belt which composed his costume, he
had a short heavy hunting-knife, a piece of tinder, a
little tin pannikin, which he had been in the habit of
carrying at his belt, and a large cake of maple sugar.
This last is a species of sugar which is procured by the
Indians from the maple-tree. Several cakes of it had
been carried ofl' from the Pawnee village, and Dick
nsuallv carried one in the breast of his coat. Besides
these things, ho found that the little Bible, for which
his mother had madc^ a small insidi.- breast-pocket, was
safe. ])ick's lieart smote him when he took it out and
undid the clasp, for he had not looked at it until that

THE DOG CRUSOE.

163

clay. It was firmly bound with a brass clasp, so that,
although the binding and the edges of the leaves -were
soaked, the inside was quite dry. On opening the book
to see if it had been damaged, a small paper fell out.
Picking it up quickly, he unfolded it, and read, in his
motlier's handwriting : " Gall uj)on ine in the time of
trouble ; and I ivill deliver thee, and thou shall glorify
me. My son, give me thine heart."

Dick's eyes filled with tears while the sound, as it
were, of his mother's voice thus reached him unexpect-
edly in that lonely wilderness. Like too many whose
hearts are young and gay, Dick had regarded religion, if
not as a gloomy, at least as not a cheerful thing. But
he felt the comfort of these words at that moment, and
he resolved seriously to peruse his mother's parting gift
in time to come.

The sun was hot, and a warm breeze gently shook
the leaves, so that Dick's garments were soon dry. A
few minutes served to change the locks of his rifle, draw
the wet charges, dry out the barrels, and re-load. Then
throwing it across his shoulder, he entered the wood and
walked lightly away. And well he might, poor fellow,
for at that moment he felt light enough in person if not
in heart. His worldly goods were noi such as to oppress
him ; but the little note had turned his thoughts towards
home, and he felt comforted.

Traversing the belt of woodland that marked the
course of the river, Dick soon emerged on the wide
prairie beyond, and here he paused in some uncertainty
as to how he should proceed.

He was too good a backwoodsman, albeit so young, to

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

feel perplexed as to the points of the compass. He
knew pretty well what hour it was, so that the sun
showed him the general bearings of the country, and he
knew that when night came he could correct his course
by the pole star. Dick's knowledge of astronomy was
limited ; he knew only one star by name, but that one
was an inestimable treasure of knowledge. His per-
plexity was owing to his uncertainty as to the direction
in which his companions and their pursuers had gone ;
for he had made up his mind to follow their trail if
possible, and render all the succour his single a"m
might afford. To desert them, and make for the set-
tlement, he held, w^ 4d be a faithless and cowardly
act.

While they were together Joe Blunt had often talked
to him about the route he meant to pursue to tlie Rocky
Mountains, so that, if they had escaped the Indians, he
thought thore might be some chance of finding them at
last. But, to set against this, there was the probability
that they had been taken and carried away in a totally
different direction ; or they might have taken to the
river, as he had done, and gone farther down without
his observing them. Then, again, if they had escaped,
they would be sure to return and search the country
round for him, so that if he left the spot he might miss
them.

" Oh for my dear pup Crusoe ! " he exclaimed aloud
in this dilemma ; but the faithful ear was shut now,
and the deep silence that followed his cry was so op-
pressive that the young hunter sprang forward at a run
over the plain, as if to fly from solitude. He soon be-

THE DOG CRUSOE.

165

came so absorbed, however, in his efforts to find the
trail of his companions, that he forgot all other con-
siderations, and ran straight forward for hours together
with his eyes eagerly fixed on the ground. At last he
felt so hungry, having tasted no food since supper-time
the previous evening, that he halted for the purpose of
eating a morsel of maple sugar. A line of bushes in
the distance indicated water, so he spell on again, and
was soon seated beneath a willow, drinking water from
the cool stream. No game was to be found here, but
there w^ere several kinds of berries, among which wild
grapes and plums grew in abundance. With these and
some sugar he made a meal, though not a good one, for
the berries w^ere quite green and intensely sour.

All that day Dick Varley followed up the trail of his
companions, which he discovered at a ford in the river.
They had crossed, therefore, in safety, though still pur-
sued ; so he ran on at a regular trot, and with a little
more hope than he had felt during the day. Towards
night, however, Dick's heart sank again, for he came
upon innumerable buffalo tracks, among which those of
the horses soon became mingled up, so that he lost them
altogether. Hoping to find them again more easily by
broad daylight, he went to the nearest clump of willows
he could find, and encamped for the night.

Remembering the use formerly made of the tall wil-
lows, he set to work to construct a covering to protect
him from the dew. As he had no blanket or buffalo
skin, he used leaves and grass instead, and found it a
better shelter than he had expected, especially when the
fire was lighted, and a pannikin of hot sugar and water

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THE DOG CRU80E.

smoked at his feet ; but as no game was to be found, he
was again compelled to sup off unripe berries. Before
lying down to rest he remembered his resolution, and
pulling out the little Bible, read a portion of it by the
fitful blaze of the fire, and felt great comfort in its blessed
words. It seemed to him like a friend with whom he
could converse in the midst of his loneliness.

The plunge into the river having broken Dick's pipe
and destroyed his tobacco, he now felt the want of that
luxury very severely, and, never having wanted it be-
fore, he was greatly surprised to find how much he had
become enslaved to the habit. It cost him more than
an hour's rest that night, the craving for his wonted
pipe.

The sagacious reader will doubtless not fail here to
ask himself the question, whether it is wise in man to
create in himself an unnatural and totally unnecessary
appetite, which may, and often does, entail hours — ay,
sometimes months — of exceeding discomfort ; but we
would not for a moment presume to suggest such a
question to him. We have a distinct objection to the
ordinary method of what is called " drawing a moral."
It is much better to leave wise men to do this for
themselves.

Next morning Dick rose with the sun, and started
without breakfast, preferring to take his chance of find-
ing a bird or animal of some kind before long, to feeding
again on sour berries. He was disappointed, however,
in finding the tracks of his companions. The ground
here was hard and sandy, so that little or no impression
of a distinct kind was made on it; and as butt'aloes

THE DOG CRUSOE.

167

had traversed it in all directions, ho was soon utterly
bewildered. He thought it possible that, by running-
out for several miles in a straight line, and then taking
a wide circuit round, he might find the tracks emerging
from the confusion made by the bufi'aloes. But he was
again disappointed, for the butialo tracks still continued,
and the ground became less capable of showing a foot-
print.

Soon Dick began to feel so ill and weak from eating
such poor fare, that he gave up all hope of discovering
the tracks, and was compelled to push forward at his
utmost speed in order to reach a less barren district,
where he might procure fresh meat ; but the farther ho
advanced the worse and more sandy did the district
become. For several days he pushed on over this arid
waste without seeing bird or beast, and, to add to his
misery, he failed at last to find water. For a day and
a night he wandered about in a burning fever, and his
throat so parched that he was almost sufibcated. To-
wards the close of the second day he saw a slight line
of bushes away down in a hollow on his right. With
eager steps he staggered towards them, and, on drawing
near, beheld — blessed sight ! — a stream of \Nater glanc-
injjf in the beams of the settinsj sun.

Dick tried to shout for joy, but his parched throat
refused to give utterance to the voice. It mattered
not. Exertinof all his remainino- strenoth he rushed
down the bank, dropped his rifie, and plunged head-
foremost into the stream.

The first mouthful sent a thrill of horror to his heart ;
it was salt as brine '

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

o" the bank in a speci:s of w, """' '^^ '^''"'^ ^^^^^

he awakened next L'in! ^ I?" "^T ^™'" -hich
.^oon rendered him insea^ble to''°^"" '''• ""''""•"
«« rose like a ball of tire and . , ™"'"""^- ^he

ing power on the arid pLT^ "v/'r" "''«> -°™h-
Dick ? He was far aw J t;, . ""'^*^'-'^ '* *<>
f -tang Valle,. eh^sL^^,: cW- 1"? ^^'•''^^•' <^^ "-
frequently eoolins. his iLb! T *'""'' ''"' ™o>-e

■" *e bright blu'e lalKorL ■''"""'" ^"* ^--
cottage, telling, her how h 7 , /'"' '" ^"^ ™°ther's
f- away on The praw! at. t /'°"=''' °*' ''^ -h-

f - she had wL;™d? St: ''°"'"' ^""^^* --■

too Anon he was seourin. o.lr t ~ "^ ""-^Pectedly.

back, with the savao-es at h;.T, ^ ■""' "" ^orse-

Diek w^ould spring wUh'r Y' ' ^»'' -* '"eh time.s
from the ground, and r„„ IT '"P«™«*«--' strength
•-'- as if by a spels oTfa :£rV'" '"™'"=" P'^" '•
to the .salt river, and san "' "'"^^ ''<"«■"«'•

Pi;nged helplessly in^oirit::^^'^^ '' "^ ^'''<'' -

ehort'':;;:T:er::rhe rrr ''-''-' '^- ^- «

-cl gnaw a .nor.sel of ^ J", ' """' "P "^ ^-^k
eat much, for it was n TT T^'"'' *•"' ^^ '^""'d not
hi« jaw.s had not power to h ,' '^'"^'^^ '^^''- "'Wch
the next night he layTtl , "? " ^" "'''' <lay and
- rushed w^ildly JZ the pH^ ^^ "^^^ '^*--.
the .second day after his 21",- tf .T ""* "°°" "^
-' of the water, into ^h h te ! ", "'"''" ^'"""^
seconds before. Hi, ,„:„, " '"''' P^mged a few

'»»J was restored, but he felt an

THE DOG CRUSOE.

160

indescribable sensation of weakness, that seemed to him
to be the approach of death. Creeping towards tlio
place where his rifle lay, he fell exhausted beside it,
and laid his cheek on the Bible, which had fallen out
of his pocket there.

While his eyes were closed in a dreamy sort of half-
waking slumber, he felt the rough, hairy coat of an ani-
mal brush aoainst his forehead. The idea of beinof torn
to pieces by wolves flashed instantly across his mind,
and with a shriek of terror he sprang up — to be almost
overwhelmed by the caresses of his faitliful dog.

Yes, there he was, bounding round his master, bark-
ing and whining, and giving vent to every possible
expression of canine joy !

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CHAPTER XIV.

Crusoe's return, and his private adventures anionti the Indians — Dic/c at a
very low cLb^Crusoe saves hiiu.

THE means by whicli Crusoe managed to escape
from his two-legged captors, and rejoin his master,
require sepaiate and special notice.

In the struggle with the fallen horse and Indian,
which Dick had seen begun but not concluded, he was
almost crushed to death ; and the instant the Indian
gained his feet, he sent an arrow at his head with
savage violence. Crusoe, however, had been so well
used to dodoino- the blunt-headed arrows that were
wont to be shot at him by the boys of the Mustang
Valley, that he was quite prepared, and eluded the
shaft by an active bound. Moreover, he uttered one of
his own peculiar roars, flew at the Indian's throat, and
dra<xocd him down. At the same moment the other
Indians came up, and one of them turned aside to the
rescue. This man happened to have an old gun, of
the cheap sort at that time exchanged for peltries by
the fur-traders. With the butt of this he struck
Crusoe a blow on the head that sent him sprawling on
the grass.

The rest of the savages, as we have seen, continued

THE DOG CRUSOE.

171

in pursuit of Dick until he leaped into the river ; then
they returned, took the saddle and bridle ott" his dead
horse, and rejoined their comrades. Here they held a
court-martial on Crusoe, who was now bound foot and
muzzle with cords. Some were for killing- him ; others,
who admired his noble appearance, immense size, and
courage, thought it would be well to carry him to their
village and keep him. There w^as a pretty violent dis-
pute on the subject, but at length it was agreed that
they should spare his life in the meantime, and perha2)s
have a dog-dance round him when they got to their

wigwams.

This dance, of which Crusoe was to be the chief
though passive performer, is peculiar to some of the
tribes east of the Rocky Mountains, and consists in
killincr a dofj and cuttinq; out its liver, wdiich is after-
wards sliced into shreds or strings and hung on a pole
about the height of a man's head. A band of warriors
then come and dance wildly round this pole, and each
one in succession goes up to the raw liver and bites a
piece oft' it, without, however, putting his hands near
it. Such is the dog-dance, and to such was poor Crusoe
destined by his fierce captors, especially by the one
whose throat still bore very evident marks of his teeth.

But Crusoe was much too clever a dog to be disposed
of in so disgusting a manner. He had privately re-
solved in his own mind that he would escape ; but the
hopelessness of his ever carrying that resolution into
effect would have been apparent to any one who could
have seen the way in v/hich his muzzle was secured,
and his four paws were tied together in a bunch, as

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THE UOG CKUSOE.

^'' ^^""- «"spended across the .acldlo f

savages/ ^ saddJe of one of the

This particular nartv ni- t t

Dick Vavley deteji^l^ot to ^ f " '"' ^"""^^

their ccnrades who we J " *°'' *''^ ^^'"■■" of

''unters, but to t Zl^ T^ "' "^ °*« *-

«>ey ffaUoped away ^t;^ the n"""' • " '"'' ■"^^™' ^''>-

'^P-o of oM iumbe: :;;, ;t';.:" "^« »"~-^ ^^e
--P of food till .nornin,, wVfwa " ^"^ " """
■■'ci-os.s the horse of his e1,\Z , ''"'"" *'"■««■«

«- vi,U,e was rea c^Vl f ^fu ™™' °"- ^^'''-
?'-onncl, and would certa nl^ 1 " ''«''"' °» '^o

«ve Minutes h, the S Z: ^r^" *« P^- -
i-ound hiua. had i, ,t an nU ' "^'"^ ''""'^ing

-" "•■iv-n then at; ° wrZ ,7" f "'^ ~
«on-a little naked ereltur \ m '^ "^ ''^'' S^^«'-
to ,sta8.ger-.she draped ,,;" :""" '° "''"^' «^- ^ther

Although lyin,r in , J ; "'' °'^''''«' )>"» a bone.

An awful crash wa. followed b! ''"^'"' "^"^ ''•
^vas gone ! and (>usoo Innl , """ehes-and it

i-o With a look that . a nh f "^'" "" *' ■^l"^^"^
P!e-. and as quief r^' S:^'' :;^"°"- "^ the «an>e,

h-m another, and then a lu,,,; / ' "''""^" S'"^^"
went down with a .„,. . , ' "^ °* ■"•■'^'- "'hich latter

f. -- -" he didn^ etk . aC^'J'''' " ' -''
)'■">. and Crusoe .spent the , , " "1™"' '«ft

f-ving .he eord,s'th:t il,TZY^^'' "'^'"*

THE DOG CRUSOE.

173

liberately out of the tent. Then lie shook liiinself, and
with a yell that one mi^ht have fancied was intended
for defiance he boun<led Joyfully away, and was soon
out of sight.

To a dog with a good appetite which had been on short
allowance for several days, the mouthful given to him by
the old squaw was a mere nothing. All that <lay he
kept bounding over the plain from bluff to bluff in
search of something co eat, but found nothing until
dusk, when he pounced suddenly and most unexpectedly
on a prairie-hen fast asleep. In one moment its life
was gone. In less than a minute its body was gone
too — feathers and bones and all down Crusoe's raven-
ous throat.

On the identical spot Crusoe lay down and slept like
a top for four hours. At the end of that time he
jumped up, bolted a scrap of skin that somehow liad
been overlooked at supper, and flew straight over the
prairie to the spot where he had had the scuffle M'ith
the Indian. He came to the edge of the river, took
precisely the same leap that his master had done before
him, and came out on the other side a good deal higher
up tlum Dick had done, for the dog had no savages to
dodge, and was, as we have said before, a powei-ful
swinnner.

It cost lum a good deal of running about to find the
trail, and it was nearly dai'k before he resumed his
journey ; then, putting his keen nose to the ground, he
ran step by step over Dick's track, and at last found
ln*m, as we have shown, on the banks of the salt creek.

It is quite impossible to describe the intense joy

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174

THE DOG CRUSOE.

wliich filled Dick's heart on again beholding his favour-
ite. Only those who have lost and found such an one
can know it. Dick seized him round the neck and
hugged him as well as he could, poor fellow ! in his
feeble arms ; then he wept, then he laughed, and then
lie fainted.

This was a consummation that took Crusoe quite
aback. Never liaving seen his master in such a state
before he seemed to think at first that he was playing
some trick, for he bounded round him, and barked, and
wagged his tail. But as Dick lay quite still and
motionless, he went forward with a look of alarm ;
snuffed him once or twice, and whined piteously ; then
he raised his nose in the air and uttered a long melan-
clioly wail.

The cry seemed to revive ])ick, for he movi d, and
with some difficulty sat up, to the dog's evident relief.
There is no doubt whatever that ('ruso(^ learned an
erroneous lesson that day, and was firmly convinced
thenceforth that the best cure for a fainting fit is a
melancholy yell. So easy is it for the wisest of dogs
as well as men to fall info gross erroi' !

" Crusoe," said Dick, in a feeble voice, " dear gooil
pnp, come here." He crawled, as he spoke, down to
the water's edge, where there was a level patch of dry
sand.

" Dig," said Dick, pointing to the sand.

Crusoe looked at him in surprise, as well he might,
for he had nc^ver heard the word " dig " in all his life
I >ef ore.

Dick ])(>ndered a minute ; then ;i, tliought struck him.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

175

He tui'ned up a little of the snnd with his fingers, find,
pointing to the hole, cried, " Seek hini out, j)^}^ I "

Ha ! Crusoe understood that. ^lany and many a
time had he unhoused rabbits, and squirrels, and other
creatures at that word of conniiand ; so, witliout a mo-
ment's delay, he commenced to dig down into the sand,
every now and then stopping for a moment and shoving
in his nose, and snuffing interrogatively, as if he fully
expected to find a butlalo at the bottom of it. Then he
would resume again, one paw after another so fast that
you could scarce see them going — "hand over hand," as
sailors would have called it— while the sand fl( \v out
lietween his hind ley's in a continuous shower. When
the sand accumulated so nuich ])ehind him as to impede
his motions he scraped it out of his way, and set to
work again with tenfold earnestness. After a good
while he paused and looke<l up at Dick with an " it-
v7on't-do,-T fear,-therc's-nothing-herc " expression on his
face.

" Seek him out, pup ! " repeated Diek.

" Oh I very good,'' mutely answered the dog, and went
at it again, tooth and nail, harder than ev(>r.

Tn the course of a quarter of an hour there was a
deep yawning hole in the sand, into which Dick peered
with intense anxiety. The bottom appeared slightly
(l(f)trp. Hope now reanimated Dick Varley, and by
various devices he succeed(Ml in getting the dog to scrape
away a sort of tunnel from th(> hole, into which he
might roll himsf^lf and put down his lips to drink when
the water should rise high enough. Impatiently and
anxiously h(^ lav watching the moisture slowlv accunm-

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176

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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late in the bottom of the hole, drop by drop, and while
he gazed he fell into a troubled, restless slumber, and
dreamed that Crusoe's return was a dream, and that he
was alone again, perishing for want of wrcer.

When he awakened the hole was half full of clear
water, and Crusoe was lapping it greedily.

" Back, pup ! " he shouted, as he crept down to the
hole and put his trembling lips to the water. It was
brackish, but drinkable, and as Dick drank deeply of
it he esteemed it at that moment better than nectar.
Here he lay for half-an-hour, alternately drinking and
mizinii' in surnrise at hia own emaciated visao-e as re-
fleeted in the pool.

The same afternoon Crusoe, in a private hunting ex-
cursion of his own, discovered and caught a prairie-hen,
which lie quietly proceeded to devour on the spot, when
Dick, who saw what had occurred, whistled to him.

Obedience was engrained in eveiy fibre of Crusoe's
mental and corporeal being. He did not merely ans\ver
at once to the call — he sprang to it, leaving the prairie-
hen untastcd.

" Fetch it, pup/' cried Dick eagerly as the dog came
up.

In a few moments the hen was at his feet. Dick's
circumstances could not brook the delay of cookery ; he
gashed the bird with his knife and diank the blood, and
then gave the flesh to the dog, while lie crept to the
pool again for another draught. Ah ! think not, reader,
tliat although we have treated this subject in a slight
vein of pleasantry, because it ended well, that thei-efore
our tale is pure fiction. Not only are Indianh glad to

clear

THE DOG CRUSOE.

177

satisfy the urgent cravings of hunger with raw flesh,
but many civilized men and delicately nurtured have
done the same — ay, and doubtless will do the same
again, as long as enterprising and fearless men shall go
forth to dare the dangers of Hood and field in the wild
places of our wonderful world !

Crusoe had finished his share of the feast before Dick
returned from the pool. Then master and dog lay down
together side by side and fell into a long, deep, peaceful
slumber.

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CHAPTER XV.

Health and happiness return — Incidents of the jnnrncii—A buffalo shot— A
wild horse ''^creased''' — Dick's battle vitli a mustawf.

i! ilii ,

''' ■.[

DICK VARLEY'S fccars and troubles, in the mean-
time, were ended. On the day following ho
awoke refreshed and happy — so happy and light at
lieart, as he felt the glow of returning health coursing
tlirough his veins, that he fancied he must have dreamed
it all. In fact, he was so certain that his muscles were
strong that he endeavoured to leap up, hut was power-
fully convinced of his true condition hy the miserable
stagger that resulted from the etibrt.

However, he knew he Avas recovering, so he rose, and
thanking God for his recovery, and for the new hope
that was raised '\n his heart, he went down to the pool
and drank deeply of its water. Then he returned, and,
sitting down beside his dog, opened the Bible and read
long — and, for the first time, carnetithj — the story of
Christ's love for sinful man. Ho at last fell asleep ovei*
the book, and when he awakened felt so much refreshed
in body and mind that he determined to attempt to
pursue his journey.

He had not proceeded far when he came upon a
colony of prairie-dogs. 1 ^pon this occasion he was little

and

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rccad

of
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bed

^tle

THE DOG CRUSOE.

170

inclined to take a humorous view of the vagaries of
these 'urious little creatures, but he shot one, and, as
befor J, ate part of it raw. These creatures are so active
thai) they are difficult to shoot, and even when killed
generally fall into their holes and disappear. Crusoe,
however, soon unearthed the dead animal on this occa-
sion. That nifjht the travellers came to a stream of
fresh water, and Dick killed a turkey, so that he deter-
mined to spend a couple of days there to recruit. At
the end of that time he again set out, but was able only
to advance five miles when he broke down. In fact, it
became evident to him that he must have a longer period
of absolute repose ere he could hope to continue his
journey ; but to do so without food was impossible.
Fortunately there was plenty of water, as his course lay
along the margin of a small stream, and, as the arid
piece of prairie was now behind him, he hoped to fall in
with birds, or perhaps deer, soon.

While he was plodding heavily and wearily along,
pondering these things, he came to the brow of a wave
from which he beheld a most magnificent view of green
grassy plains decked with flowers, and rolling out to
the horizon, with a stream meandering through it, and
clumps of trees scattered everj'where far and wide. It
was a glorious sight ; but the most glorious object in it
to Dick, at that time, was a fat buffalo which stood
grazing not a hundred yards otF The wind was blow-
ing towards him, so that the animal did not scent him,
and, as he came up very slowly, and it was turned away,
it did not see him.

Crusoe would have sprung forward in an instant, but

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

his master's finger imposed silence and caution. Trem-
bling with eagerness, Dick sank flat down in the grass,
cocked both barrels of his piece, and, resting it on his
left hand with his left elbow on the ground, he waited
until the animal should present its side. In a few
seconds it moved ; Dick's eye glanced along the barrel,
but it trembled — his wonted steadiness of aim was
gone. He fired, and the buffalo sprang off' in terror.
With a groan of despair he fired again — almost reck-
lessly — and the buffalo fell ! It rose once or twice and
stumbled forward a few paces, then it fell again. ]\Iean-
while Dick reloaded with trembling hand, and advanced
to give it another shot ; but it was not needful — the
buffalo was already dead.

" Now, Crusoe," said Dick, sitting down on the buffalo's
shoulder and patting his favourite on the head, " we're
all right at last. You and I shall have a jolly time o't,
pup, from this time for'ard."

Dick paused for breath, and Crusoe wagged his tail
and looked as if to say — pshaw ! " as if! "

We tell you what it is, reader, it's of no use at all to
go on writing " as if," when we tell you what Crusoe
said. If there is any language in eyes whatever — if
there is language in a tail, in a cocked ear, in a mobile
eyebrow, in the point of a canine nose, — if there is
language in any terrestrial thing at all, apart from that
which flows from the tongue, then Crusoe spoke ! Do
we not speak at this moment to you? and if so, then
tell me wherein lies the diflerence between a written
letter and a given sign?

Yes, Crusoe spoke. lie said to Dick as plain as dog

THE DOG CRUSOE.

181

could say it, slowly and emphatically, " That's my opinion
precisely, Dick. You're the dearest, most beloved, jolliest
fellow that ever walked on two legs, you are ; and
whatever's your opinion is mine, no matter hoiv absurd
it may be."

Dick evidently understood him perfectly, for he
laughed as he looked at him and patted him on the
head, and called him a " funny dog." Then he continued
his discourse : —

" Yes, pup, we'll make our camp here for a long bit,
old dog, in this beautiful plain. We'll make a willow
wigwam to sleep in, you and I, jist in yon clump o'
trees, not a stone's-throw to our right, where we'll have
a run o' pure water beside us, and be near our buffjilo
at the same time. For, ye see, w^e'U need to watch him
lest the wolves take a notion to eat him — that'll be
your duty, pup. Then I'll skin him when I get strong
enough, which'll be in a day or two, I hope, and we'll
put one-half of the skin below us and t'other half above
us i' the camp, an' sleep, an' eat, an' take it easy for a
week or two — won't we, pup ? "

" Hoora-a-a-y ! " shouted Crusoe, with a jovial wag of
his tail, that no human arm with hat, or cap, or kerchief
ever equalled.

Poor Dick Yarlcy ! He smiled to think how earnestly
he had been talking to the dog ; but he did not cease to
do it, for althouo'h he entered into discourses the drift
of which Crusoe's limited education did not permit him
to follow, he found comfort in hearing the sound of his
own voice, and in knowing tliat it fell pleasantly on
another ear in that lonely wilderness.

J id

182

THE DOG CRUSOE.

r ti.

;!■ 'it'

li ii:i;:ii:

Our liero now set about his preparations as vigorously
as he could. He cut out the buffalo's tonjjue — a matter
of great difficulty to one in his weak state — and carried
it to a pleasant spot near to the stream where the turf
was level and green, and decked with wild flowers.
Here he resolved to make his camp.

His first care was to select a bush whose branches
were long enough to form a canopy over his head when
bent, and the ends thrust into the ground. The com-
pleting of this exhausted him greatly, but after a rest
he resumed his labours. The next thino; was to lioht a
fire — a comfoi't which he had not enjoyed for many
weary days. Not that he required it for warmth, for
the weather was extremely warm, but he required it to
cook with, and the mere sight of a blaze in a dark place
is a most heart-cheering thing, as every one knows.

When the fire was lighted he filled his pannikin at
the brook and put it on to boil, and cutting several
slices of buffalo tongue, he thrust short stakes through
them and set them up before the fire to roast. By this
time the water was boiling, so he took it off with diffi-
culty, nearly burning his fingers and singeing the tail of
his coat in so doing. Into the pannikin he put a lump
of maple sugar, and stirred it about with a stick, and
tasted it. It seemed to him even better than tea or
coffee. It was absolutel}^ delicious !

Really one has no notion what he can do if he makes
believe very Jucrd. The human mind is a nicely balanced
and extremely complex machine, and when thrown a
little off the balance can be made to believe almost any-
thing, as we see in the case of some poor monomaniacs,

kes
led
a

p-
|cs,

THE DOG eilUSOE.

18:i

who have fancied that tlioy were made of all sorts of
things — ghiss and porcelain, and such like. No wondt^r
then that poor Dick Varley, after so much suffering and
hardship, came to regard that pannikin of hot sirup as
the most delicious beverage ho evav drank.

During all tliese operations Crusoe sat on his haunches
beside him and looked. And you haven't, no, you
haven't got the most distant notion of the way in which
that dog mancruvred with bis head and face. He opened
liis eyes wide, and cocked his ears, and turned his head
tirst a little to one side, then a little to- the other. After
that he turned it a good deal to one side, and then a
tjood deal more to the other. Then he broutrht it straight,
and raised one eyebrow a little, and then the other a
little, and then both together very much. Then, when
Dick paused to rest and did nothing, Crusoe looked mild
for a moment, and yawned vociferously. I'resently Dick
moved — up went the ears again, and Crusoe came, in
military parlance, " to the position of attention ! " At
last supper was ready and they began.

Dick had purposely kept the dog's supper back from
him, in order that they might eat it in company. And
between every bite and sup that Dick took, he gave a
bite — but not a sup— to Crusoe. Thus lovingly they
ate together; and when Dick lay that night undei- the
willow branches, looking up through them at the stars,
with his feet to the fire and Crusoe close along his side,
he tliought it the best and sweetest supper he ever ate,
and the happiest evening he ever spent — so wonderfully
do circumstances modify our notions of felicity.

Two weeks after this " Richard was himselt" again.'

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184

THE DOU CRUSOE.

Tlio muscles were springy, and the blood coursed fast
and free, as was its wont. Only a slight, and, perhaps,
salutary feeling of weakness remained, to remind him
that young muscles might again become more helpless
than those of an aged man or a child.

Dick had left his encampment a week ago, and was
now advancing by rapid stages towards the Rocky
Mountains, closely following the trail of his lost com-
rades, which he had no difficulty in finding and keeping
now that Crusoe was with him. The skin of the butialo
that he had killed was now strapped to his shoulders,
and the skin of another animal that he had shot a few
•lays after was cut up into a long line and slung in a
coil round his neck. Crusoe was also laden. He had a
little bundle of meat slung on each side of him.

For some time past numerous herds of mustangs, or
wild horses, had crossed their path, and Dick was now
on the look-out for a chance to crease one of those mag-
nificent creatures.

On one occasion a band of mustangs galloped close
up to him before they were aware of his presence, and
stopped short with a wild snort of surprise on beholding
him ; then, wheeling round, they dashed away at full
gallop, their long tails and manes fi3'ing wildly in the
air, and their hoofs thundering on the plain. Dick
did not attempt to crease one upon this occasion, fearing
that his recent ilhiess miiiht have rendered his hand too
unsteady for so extremely delicate an operation.

In order to crease a wild h-^rsc^ the hunter requires
to be a perfect shot, and it is not every man of the west
who carries a lifle that can do it successfully. Creasing

THE Don CKUSOK.

185

consists ill sending' a bullet throuL;li the «;ristle of the
mustang's iicck, just above the bone, so as to stun the
animal. If the ball enters a hair's-breadth too low,
the horse falls dead instantly. If it hits the exact
spot, the horse falls as instantaneously, and dead to all
appearance ; but, in reality, he is oidy stuinied, and if
left for a few minutes will rise and gallop away nearly
as well as ever. When hunters crease a horse success-
fully they put a rope, or halter, round his under jaw
and hobbles round his feet, so that when he rises he
is secured, and, after considerable trouble, reduced to
obedience.

The mustanfjs which roam in wild freedom on the
prairies of the far west are descende*! from the noble
Spanish steeds that were brought over by the wealthy
cavaliers who accompanied Fernando Cortez, the con-
queror of ]\Iexico, in his expedition to the New World in
1518. These bold, and, we may add, lawless cavaliers
were mounted on the finest horses that could be procured
from Barbarv and the deserts of the C)M World. The
poor Indians of the New World were sti'uck with amaze-
ment and terror at these awful beings, for, never having
seen horses before, they believed that horse and rider
were one animal. ])iiring th(^ wars that followed many
of the Spaniards wen; killed, and their steeds boundeil
into the wilds of the new counti'V, to eniov a life of
unrestrained freedom. '^Fhese were the fonrnlhers of
the present race of mngnlilccnt cri'atures which an;
found in innnense droves all over the western wiMer-
ncss, from the Gulf of Mexico to the confines of the
snowy regions of the far north.

186

TIIK 1)()0 (!RUS()K.

At first tin' Tiidiaiis belu'ld those liorsos with Jiwo and
terror, Ijut •n-suhuillv tliey became accustomed to tliem,
and finally succeeded in capturing pjreat numbeivs and
reducing them to a state ot* servitude. Not, however,
to the service of the cultivated field, but to the service
of th(.^ cliase and war. The savages soon acijuired the
method of capturing wild horses by means ol the his.so
— ^as tlie noose at that end of a long line of raw lii<le is
termed — which thev adj'oitlv threw over the heads of
the animals and secured them, having previously run
them down. At the present day many of tlie savage
tribes of the west almost live upon horseback, an<l
without these useful creatures they could scarcely sul)-
sist, as they are almost indispensable in the chase of
the butJalo.

Mustangs are regularly taken bv the Indians to the
settlements of tlie white men for trade, but very poor
specimens are these of the breed of wild horses. This
arises from two causes. First, the Indian cannot overtake
the finest of a drove of wild nnistangs, because his own
steed is i)iferior to tlie best among the wild ones, beside>'
Ixnng weighted with a rider, so that only the weak and
inferior animals arc captuivd. And, secondly, wlien the
Indian does succeed in lassoing a first-rate horse lie
keeps it for his own use. Thus, those who have not
visited the far-otf prairies and seen the nuistang in all
the glory of untranuuelled fivedom, can form no ad(M]uate
idea of its beauty, fieetness, and strengtli.

The horse, however, was not the only creature im-
poi-ted by (V)rt(^z. There were priests in his army who
rode upon asses, and although we cannot imagine that

TITE I)()(J lUUSOK.

1.S7

the " fathers " chart^od with tl»o cavaliers and were un-
horsed, or, ratlier, uii-JHsed in battle, yet, somehow, the
asses ^ot rid of the r riders an<l joined tlie Spanish
ehargf'N in their joyous bound into a new life of free-
tloni. Hence wild asses also are found in the western
])rairies. Ihit think not, reader, of those poor miserable
wretches we see at home, which seem little better th;ni
roui;h door-mats sewed up and stuti'ed, with liead, t;iil,
and le^s attached, and just enouuh of life iid'ust'd to
make them move ' No, the wihl ass of the praiiie is a
lariMfe powerful, swift creature. He has the same lone,'
ears, it is true, and the same hi<leous, exasperatin;;" bray,
and the same tendency to flourish liis heels; but for all
that he is a very tine animal, and often wa«jes succcssi'nl
warfare with the wild horse.

But to return. The next drove of nnistanns that
J^ick and Crusoe saw were feeding- ([uietly and unsns-
pectinely in a rich j;Teen hollow in the plain. Dick's
lieart leaped up as his eyes suddeidy fell on them, for
he had almost <liscovered him.self before he was awari^
of their presence.

"Down, pnp ! " he whispered, as he sank and <lis-
appeared amonn,' the ^rass, which was just long enough
to cover him when lying (piite flat.

Crusoe crouched innnediately, and his master niiule
his observations of the drove, and the dispositions of
the ground that might favour his ap])roach, f(>r they
were not within rille range. Having done so he crept
slowly back until the undulation of the prairie hid him
from view ; then he sprang to his feet, and ran a con-
siderable distance aloU'' the bottom until he e;ained the

«!

lU i

188

THH: IHHi CRUSOE.

t!'i

(

oxti'onie end of a belt of low bushes, ■\vliich would eti'ec-
tually conceal him while he approached to within a
hundred yards or less of the troop.

]I(!re he made his .arrangements. Throwing" down
his buH'alo robe, he took the coil of line and cut ott' a
piece of about three yards in leuL^th. On this he made
a running noose. The longer line he also prepared
with a running noose. These he threw in a coil over
his arm.

He also made a pair of hobbles, and placed them in
the breast of his coat, and then, taking up his rifle,
advanced cautiously through the bushes — Crusoe follow-
inir close behind him. In a few minutes he was gazincs;
in admiration at the mustangs, which were now within
easy shot, and utterly ignoi'ant of the presence of man,
for Dick had taken care to approach in such a way
that the wind did not carry the scent of him in their
direction.

And well might he admire them. The wild horse of
these regions is not. very large, but it is exceedingly
powerful, with prominent eye, sharp nose, distended
nostril, small fc^et, and a delicate leg. Their beautiful
manes hung at great length down their arched necks,
and their thick tails swept the ground. One mag-
nificent fellow in particular attracte<l Dick's attention.
He was of a rich dark-brown colour, with l)lack mano
and tail, and seemed to be the leader of the drove.

Although not the neansst to him, he i-esolved to crease
this horse. It is said that creasing generally destroys
or damages the spirit of the horse, so Dick determined
to try whether his powers of close shooting would not

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ISO

serve liiiii on tliis occasion. (loincj down on one knco
ho .liiiu'd {it thv crcjiturc's neck, just a lunr's-ljivadtli
above tlie spot wliere he liad liccn told tliat linnttrs
usually liit them, and tired. The etlect upon the group
was absolutely tremendous. Witli wihl cries and snort-
ing terror they tossed their ])roud lieads in tlie air,
uncertain for one moment in which direction to fly ;
tlien there was a rusli as it' a luirricane swept over the
place, and they were gone.

But the ]»rown horsc^ was <lown. Dick did not wait
until the others had fleib He (hopped his I'iile, and
with the speed of a deer sprang towards the fallen
horse, and affixed the liobbles to his legs. His aim liad
been true. Although scarcely half a minute elapsed
between the shot and the fixing of the hobbles, the
animal recovered, and with a frantic exertion rose on
his liaunches, just as Dick had fastened tlie noose of
the short hue in his under jaw. But this was not
enough. If the horse had gained liis feet bef(n'c the
longer line was placed round liis neck, he would have
escaped. As the mustang made the second violent
plunge that placed it on its legs, Dick Hung the noose
hastily ; it caught on one ear, and would have fallen
off, liad not the horse suddenlv shaki'ii its head, and
miwittingly sealed its own fate by bringing the nooso
roiuid its neck.

And nov7 the struggle began. Dick knew well
enough, from hearsay, the method of " breaking down "
a wild horse. He knew that the Indians choke them
with the noose roun<l the neck until thev fall down
exhausted and covered with foam, when they creep up.

i I

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'In

Mil
i

IfK)

THE DOG CRUSOE.

fix the liobhlcs, and tho lino in the lower jaw, and then
loosen tlu^ lasso to let the horse breathe, and resume its
plunL;incjs till it is almost subdued, when they gradually
<lraw near and breathe into its nostrils. But the vio-
lence and strenn'th of this animal rendered this an
apparently hopeless task. We hc'ive ah'eady seen that
the hobl)les and noose in the lower jaw had been fixed,
so that ])ick had nothing- now to do but to choke his
captive, and tire him out, while Crusoe remained a quiet
though excited spectator of the scene.

But there seemed to be no possibility of choking this
horse. Either the muscles of his neck were too strong,
or there was something wrong M'ith the noose which
prevented it from acting, for the furious creature dashed
and bounded backwards and sideways in its terror for
nearly an hour, dragging J)ick after it, till he was
almost exhausted ; and yet, at the end of that time,
although Hocked with foam and panting with terror,
it seemed as strong as ever. ])ick held both lines, for
the short one attached to its lower jaw gave liim great
power over it. At last he thought of seeking assistance
from his dog.

" Crusoe," he cried, " lay hold, pup ! "

The dog seized tho long line in his teeth and pulled
with all his might. At tho same moment Dick lot go
tho short lino and throw all his weight upon the long
one. The noose tightened suddenly under this strain,
and the nmstang, with a gasp, fell choking to tho
ground.

Dick had often heard of the manner in which the
Mexicans " break " their horses, so he determined to

THE doc; ckusoe.

101

iibainlon thv nictliocl whidi had already almost worn
liiin out, and adopt the, other, as far as the means in
liis power rendered it [)Ossible. Inst<'ad, therefore, of
loosenini:;" the lasso and re-connnencini;" the struii'^le, ho
tore a hranch from a neinhbourinc; hush, cut the hohhles,
strode with his lens across the fallen stce<l, seized the
end of the short line or bridle, and then, orderini;- Crusoe
to quit his hold, he loosened the noose M'hich compressed
the horse's neck and had already well-niL;h terminated
its existence.

Oni! or two deep sobs restored it, and in a moment
it leaped to its feet with ])ick tirndy on its back. To
say that the animal leaped and kicked in its frantic
efforts to throw this intohn-able burden would be a tamo
manner of expressing what took place. Words cannot
adequately describ(; the scene. It rearc<l, phuif^^ed,
shrieked, vaulted into the aii*, stood straight np on
its hind legs, and then almost as straight upon its fonj
ones ; but its I'ider held on like a burr. Then the
mustang raced wildly forwards a few paces, th(>n as
wildly back, and then stood still and trembled violently.
But this was only a Ijrief lull in the storm, so Dick saw
that the time was now com(^ to assert the superiority of
his race.

" St.iy b.'iek, Crusoe, and watch my ritle, pup," he
cried, and raising his heaw switch he brought it down
with a sharp cut across the horse's flank, at the same
time loosening the rein which hitherto ho had lield
tight.

The wild horse uttered a passionate cry, and sprang
forward like the bolt from a cross-bow.

«!

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1.2

102

TIIK DOG CRUSOE.

And now conniicnced a race wliich, if not so pro.
longed, was at least as furious as tliat of the far-famed
Mazeppa. ^)iek was a splendid rider, however — at
least as far as " stickinu' on " ijfoes. He nii^jlit not
have come up to the precise pitch desiderated l)y a
riding-master in regard to cari-iage, etc., but he rode
that wild horse of the prairie with as much ease as he
had formerly ridden his own good steed, whose bones
had been picked by the wolves not long ago.

The pace was tremendous, for the youth's weight
was nothing to that muscular frame, which bounded
with cat-like agility from wave to wave of the undulat-
ing plain in ungovernable terror. In a few minutes
the clump of willows where Crusoe and his rille lay
were out of sight behind ; but it mattered not, for Dick
had looked up at the sky and noted the position of the
'in at the moment of starting. Away they went on
the wings of the wind, mile after mile over the ocean-
like waste — curving slightly aside now and then to
avoid the blufts that occasionally appeared on the
scene for a few minutes and then swept out of sight
behind them. Then they came to a little rivulet. It
was a mere brook of a few feet wide, and two or three
yards, perhaps, from bank to bank. Over this they
flew so easily that the spring was scarcely felt, and
continued the headlong course. And now a more
barren country was around them. Sandy ridges and
scrubby grass appeared everywhere, reminding Dick of
the place whei'e he liad been so ill. Rocks, too, were
scattered about, and at one place the horse dashed
with clattering hoofs between a couple of rocky sand-

THE DOG CllUSOE.

103

pro.

and
more

and
Ik of
Ivere

shed

md-

liills wliich, for a few seconds, liid the prairie from
view. Here the mustang suddenly shied witli sucli
violcsnce tliat his rider was nearly thrown, while a
rattlesnake darted from the path. Soon they emerged
from this pass, and ai^^ain the plains became green and
verdant. Presently a distant line of trees showed that
they were approaching water, and in a few minutes
they were close on it. For the first time Dick felt
alarm. He sought to check his steed, but no force lie
could exert had the smallest influence on it.

Trees and bushes flew past in bewihlering confusion.
The river was before him ; what width, he could not
tell, but he was reckless now, like hirt charger, which he
struck with the willow rod with all Ids force as they
came up. One tremendous bound, and they were
across, but Dick had to lie flat on the mustang's back
as it crashed through the bushes to avoid being scraped
off by the trees. Again they w^ere on the open plain,
and the wild horse bejxan to show siq-ns of exhaustion.

Now was its rider's opportunity to assert his do-
minion. He plied the willow rod and urged the pant-
ing horse on, until it was wdiite with foam and laboured
a little in its gait. Then Dick gently drew the halter,
and it broke into a trot ; still tighter, and it walked,
and in another minute stootl still, trembling in every
limb. Dick now quietly rubbed its nock, and spoke
to it in soothing tones ; then he wheeled it gently
round, and urged it forward. It was quite subdued
and docile. In a little time thev came to the river
and forded it, after which they went through the belt
of woodland at a walk. By the time they reached the

I.I
I

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194

THP: dog CRUSOE.

open prairie tlie mustang was recovered sufficiently to
feel its spirit returning, so Dick gave it a gentle touch
with the switch, and away they went on their return
journey.

JJut it amazed Dick not a little to find how long
that journey was. Very diti'erent was the pace, too,
from the previous mad gallop, and often would the poor
horse have stopped had Dick allowed him. But this
might not be. The shades of night were approaching,
and the camp lay a long way ahead.

At last it was reached, and Crusoe came out with
great demonstrations of joy, but was sent back lest he
should alarm the horse. Then Dick jumped off his
back, stroked his head, put his cheek close to liis
moutii and whispered softly to him, after which he
fastened him to a tree and rubbed him down slightly
with a bunch of grass. Having done this, he loft liim
to graze as far as his tether would permit ; and, after
supping with Crusoe, lay down to rest, not a little
elated with his success in this first attempt at " creas-
and " breaking " a mustang.

ing

CHAPTER XVI.

Dick Imninot II Ao/'.sr Itiini r Hnfn ir.s Iuk Jintrniil — Ck(irli<\i dtiinitu - .l//.v^)C-
tutus irliirk lead to, but do a' tinahuitt in, tin Rockij Mountains - A
livizdii licur.

TlfEUE is a proverb — or a sayini'' — or at least
somebody or Itook has told us, that some Ji'ish-
iiian once said, " Be aisy ; or, it' ye can't be aisy, be as
aisy as ye can."

Now, wc count that good advice, and strongly re-
commend it to all and sundry. Had we been at the
side of Dick Varley on the night after his taming of
the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that
advice upon him. Whether he would have listened
to it or not is (juite another question ; we rather think
not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go and do
what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations
about the region of the loins after it, wc will tell you
why Dick Varley wouldn't have listened to that ad-
vice. Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenched
out of their sockets, and listen to advice — be that
advice good or bad ? Can he f-'cl as though these
joints were trying to re-set and re-dislocate themselves
perpetually, and listen to advice ? Can he feel as if
ho were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not

?tlj

106

THE DOG CRUSOE.

i ]

i !'

si'iting down at all, and listen to advice ? Can he —
but no ! why pursue the subject. Poor Dick spent
that nij^ht in misery, and the greater part of the follow-
ing day in sleep, to make up for it.

When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon he felt
much better, but shaky.

" Now, pup," he said, stretching himself, " we'll go
and see our horse. Ours, pup ; yours and mine : didn't
you help to catch him, eh, pup ? "

Crusoe acknowledged the fact with a wag and a play-
ful " bow-wow — wow-oo-ow ! " and followed his master
to the place where the horse had been picketed. It
was standing there quite quiet, but looking a little
timid.

Dick went boldly up to it, and patted its head and
stroked its nose, for nothing is so likely to alarm either
a tame or a wild horse as any appearance of timidity or
hesitation on the part of those who approach them.

After treating it thus for a short time, he stroked
down its neck, and then its shoulders — the horse ey-
ing him all the time nervously. Gradually he stroked
its back and limbs gently, and walked quietly round
and round it once or twice, sometimes approaching
and sometimes going away, but never either hesitating
or doing anything abruptly. This done, he went down
to the stream and filled his cap with water and carried
it to the horse, which snuffed suspiciously and backed
a little ; so ho laid th'> cap down, and went up and
patted him again. Presently ho took up the cap and
carried it to his nose. The poor creature was almost
choking with thirst, so tiiat, the moment he understood

THE DOG CRUSOE.

197

felt

brokod
jc cy-
bvoketl
iround
gelling
bating
I down
irried
icked
and
and
huost
Istood

what was in the cap, he buried his lips in it and sucked
it up.

This was a great point gained : he had accepted a
benefit at the hands of his new master ; he had be-
come a debtor to man, and no doubt he felt the obli-
gation. Dick filled the cap and the horse emptied it
again, and again, and again, until its burning thirst
was slaked. Tlien Dick went up to his shoulder, patted
him, undid the line that fastened him, and vaulted
lightly on his back !

We say lightly, for it was so, but it wasn't easily, as
Dick could have told you ! However, he was deter-
mined not to forego the training of his steed on account
of what he would have called a " little bit pain."

At this unexpected act the horse plunged and reared
a good deal, and seemed inclined to go through the per-
formance of the day before over again ; but Dick patted
and stroked him into quiescence, and having done so,
urged him into a gallop over the plains, causing the dog
to gambol round in order that he might get accustomed
to him. This tried his nerves a good deal, and no wonder,
fo)' if he took Crusoe for a wolf, which no doubt ho did,
he must have thought him a very giant of the pack.

By degrees they broke into a furious gallop, and
after breathing him well, Dick returned and tied him
to the tree. Then ho rubbed him down again, and
gave him another drink. This time the horse smelt
his new master all over, and Dick felt that ho had
conquered him by kindness. No doubt the tremen-
dous run of the day before could scarcely be called
kindness, but without this subduing run he never could

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198

THE DOG CRUSOE.

have brought the offices of kindness to bear on so wild
a steed.

During all these operations Crusoe sat looking on
with demure sagacity — drinking in wisdom and taking
notes. We know not whether any notes made by the
canine race have ever been given to the world, but
certain are we that, if the notes and observations made
by Crusoe on that journey were published, they would,
to say the least, surprise us !

Next day Dick gave the wild horse his second lesson,
and his name. He called him " Charlie," after a much-
loved companion in the Mustang Valley. And long and
heartily did Dick Varley laugh as he told the horse his
future designation in the presence of Crusoe, for it struck
him as somewhat ludicrous that a mustang which, two
days ago, pawed the earth in all the pride of independent
freedom, should suddenly come down so low as to carry
a hunter on his back and be named Charlie.

The next piece of instruction began by Crusoe being
led up under Charlie's nose, and while Dick patted the
dog with his right hand he patted the horse with his
left. It backed a good deal at first and snorted, but
Crusoe walked slowly and quietly in front of him
several times, each time coming nearer, until he again
stood under his nose ; then the horse smelt him nerv-
ously, and gave a sigh of relief when he found that
Crusoe paid no attention to him whatever. Dick then
ordered the dog to lie down at Charlie's feet, and went
to the camp to fetch his rifle, and buffalo robe, and
pack of meat. These and all the other tilings belong-
ing to him were presented for inspection, one by one,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

199

to the horse, who arched his neck, caiul put forward his
ears, and eyed them at first, but smelt them all over,
and seemed to feel more easy in his mind.

Next, the butt'alo robe was rubbed over his nose, then
over his eyes and head, then down his neck and shoulder,
and lastly was placed on his back. Then it was taken
otf and jUiiKj on ; after that it was strapped on, and the
various little items of the camp were attached to it.
This done, Dick took up his rifle and let him smell it ;
then he put his hand on Charlie's shoulder, vaulted on
to his back, and rode away.

Charlie's education was completed. And now our
hero's journey began again in earnest, and with some
prospect of its speedy termination.

In this course of training through which Dick put
his wild horse, he had been at much greater pains and
had taken far longer time than is usuall}'' the case among
the Indians, who will catch, and " break," and ride a
wild horse into camp in less than three hours. But
Dick wanted to do the thing well, which the Indians
are not careful to do ; besides, it must be borne in re-
membrance that this was his first attempt, and that his
horse was one of the best and most high-spirited, while
those caught by the Indians, as we have said, are gen-
erally the poorest of a drove.

Dick now followed the trail of his lost companions at
a rapid pace, yet not so rapidly as he might have done,
being averse to exhausting his good dog and his new
companion. Each night he encamped under the shade
of a tree or a bush when he could And one, or in the
open prairie when there were none, and, picketing his

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200

THE DOG CRUSOE.

liorse to a short stake or pin which ho carried with him
for the purpose, lit his fire, had supper, and lay down
to rest. In a few days Charlie became so tame and so
accustomed to his master's voice that he seemed quite
reconciled to his new life. There can be no doubt what-
ever that he had a great dislike to solitude ; for on one
occasion, when Dick and Crusoe went off a mile or so
from the camp, where Charlie was tied, and disappeared
from his view, he was heard to neigh so loudly that
Dick ran back, thinking the wolves must have attacked
him; He was all right, however, and exhibited evident
tokens of satisfaction when they returned.

On another occasion his fear of beino: left alone was
more clearly demonstrated.

Dick had been unable to find wood or water that day,
so he was obliged to encamp upon the open plain. The
want of water was not seriously felt, however, for he
had prepared a bladder in which he always carried
enough to give him one pannikin of hoi sirup, and
leave a mouthful for Crusoe and Charlie. Dried buffalo
dung formed a substitute for fuel. Spreading his buffalo
robe, he lit his fire, put on his pannikin to boil, and
stuck up a piece of meat to roast, to the great delight
of Crusoe, who sat looking on with much interest,

Suddenly Charlie, wdio was picketed a few hundred
yards off' in a grassy spot, broke his halter close by the
headpiece, and with a snort of delight bounded away,
prancing and kicking up his heels !

Dick heaved a deep sigh, for he felt sure that his
horse was gone. However, in a little Charlie stopped,
and raised his nose high in the air, as if to look for

THE DOO CRUSOE.

201

Idred
the
tvay,

his
)ed,
for

his old equine companions. But they were gone : no
answering neigh replied to his ; and he felt, probably
for the lirst time, that he was really alone in the world.
Having no power of smell, whereby he might have
traced them out as the dog would have done, he looked
in a bewildered and excited state all round the horizon.
Then his eye fell on Dick and Crusoe sitting by their
little fire. Charlie looked hard at them, and then aixain
at the horizon ; and then, coming to the conclusion, no
doubt, that the matter was quite beyond his comprehen-
sion, he quietly took to feeding.

Dick availed himself of the chance, and tried to catch
him ; but he spent an hour with Crusoe in the vain
attempt, and at last they gave it up in disgust and re-
turned to the fire, where they finished their supper and
went to bed.

Next morning they saw Charlie feeding close at hand,
so they took breakfast, and tried to catch him again.
But it was of no use ; he was evidently coquetting with
them, and dodged about and defied their utmost eftbrts,
for there were only a few inches of line hanging to his
head. At last it occurred to Dick that he would try
the experiment of forsaking him. So he packed up his
things, rolled up the buftalo robe, threw it and the riile
on his shoulder, and walked deliberately away.

" Come along, Crusoe ! " he cried, after walking a few
paces.

But Crusoe stood by the fire with his head up, and
an expression on his face that said, " Hallo, man ! what's
wrong? You've forgot Charlie! Hold on! Are you
mad ?"

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

"Come here, Crusoe!" cried his master in a decided
tone.

Crusoe obeyed at once. Whatever mistake there
might be, there was evidently none in that command ;
so he lowered his head and tail humbly, and trotted on
with his master, but he perpetually turned his head as
he went, first on this side and then on that, to look and
wonder at Charlie.

When they were far away on the plain, Charlie sud-
denly beca ne aware that something was wrong. He
trotted to the brow of a slope, with his head and tail
very high up indeed, anl looked after them ; then he
looked at the fire, and neighed ; then he trotted quickly
up to it, and seeing that everything was gone he began
to neigh violently, and at last started ofl:' at full speed,
and overtook his friends, passing within a few feet of
them, and, wheeling round a few yards off* stood trem-
bling like an aspen leaf.

Dick called him by his name and advanced, M'hile
Charlie met him half-way, and allowed himself to be
saddled, bridled, and mounted forthwith.

After this Dick had no further trouble with his wild
horse.

At his next camping-place, which was in the midst of
a cluster of bushes close beside a creek, Dick came unex-
pectedly upon a little wooden cross which marked the
head of a grave. There was no inscription on it, but the
Christian symbol told that it was the grave of a white
man. It is impossible to describe the rush of mingled
feelinrjs that filled the soul of the vouuGf hunter as he
leaned on the nmzzle of his rifie and looked at this

THE DOG CRUSOE.

203

solitary resting-place of one who, doubtless like luniself,
had Leen a rovinix hunter. Had he been vounuj or old
when he fell ? had he a mother in the distant settle-
ment who watched and lonsfed and waited for the son
that was never more to gladden her eyes ? had he been
murdered, or had he died there and been buried by his
sorrowing conn-ades ? These and a thousand questions
passed rapidly through his mind as he gazed at the little
cross.

Suddenly he started. ** Could it be the grave of Joe
or Henri ? " For an instant the idea sent a chill to his
heart ; but it passed quickly, for a second glance showed
that the grave was old, and that the wooden cross had
stood over it for years.

Dick turned away wdth a saddened heart; and that
night, as he pored over the pages of Ids Bible, his mind
was filled with many thoughts about eternity and the
world to come. He, too, nuist come to the grave one
day, and quit the beautiful prairies and his loved
rifle. It was a sad thought; but while he meditated
he thought upon his mother. " After all," he nuirmured,
" there must be happiness without the rifle, and j'outh,
and health, and the prairie ! My mother's happy, yet
she don't shoot, or ride like wild-fire over the plains."
Then that word which had been sent so sweetly to him
through her hand came again to his mind, " My son,
give me thine heart;" and as he read God's Book, ho
met with the word, " Delight thyself in the Lord, and ho
shall give thee the desire of thine heart." " Tlic da^rrc
of thine heart" Dick repeated this, and pondered it
till he fell asleep.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

A misfortune soon after this befell Dick Varley which
well-nigh caused hiui to give way to despair. For some
time past he had been approaching the eastern slopes
of the Rocky Mountains — those ragged, jagged, mighty
hills which run through the whole continent from north
to south in a continuous chain, and form, as it were, the
backbone of America. One morning, as he threw the
buffalo robe off his shoulders and sat up, he was horrified
to find the whole earth covered with a mantle of snow.
We say he was horrified, for this rendered it absolutely
impossible any further to trace his companions either by
scent or sight.

For some time he sat musing bitterly on his sad fate,
while his dog came and laid his head sympathizingly on
his arm.

" Ah, pup ! " he said, " I know ye'd help me if ye
could! But it's all up now ; there's no chance of findin'
them. — none ! "

To this Crusoe replied by a low whine. He knew
full well that something distressed his master, but he
hadn't yet ascertained what it was. As something had
to be done, Dick put the buffalo robe on his steed, and
mounting said, as he was in the habit of doing each
morning, " Lead on, pup."

Crusoe put his nose to the ground and ran forward a
few paces, then he returned and ran about snuffing and
scraping up the snow. At last he looked up and uttered
a long melancholy howl.

"Ah! I knowed it," said Dick, pushing forward.
" Come on, pup ; you'll have to follow now. Any way
we must go on."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

205

The snow that liad fallen was not deep enou<:^h to
otibr the slightest obstruction to their advance. It was,
indeed, only one of those occasional showers common to
that pait of the country in the late autumn, which
season had now crept upon Dick almost before he was
aware of it, and he fully expected that it would melt
away in a few days. In this hope he kept steadily
advancing, until he found himself in the midst of those
rocky fastnesses which divide the waters that flow into
the Atlantic from those that flow into the PacinC Ocean.
Still the slight crust of snow lay on tho ground, and he
had no means of knowing whether he was going in the
right direction or not.

Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood
now, so that his night bivouac was not so cold or dreary
as might have been expected.

Travelling, however, had become diflficult, and even
dangerous, owing to the rugged nature of the ground
over which he proceeded. The scenery had completely
changed in its character. Dick no longer coursed over
the free, open plains, but he passed through beautiful
valleys filled with luxuriant trees, and henmied in by
stupendous mountains, whose rugged sides rose upward
until the snow-clad peaks pierced the clouds.

There was something awful in these dark solitudes,
quite overwhelming to a youth of Dick's temperament.
His heart began to sink lower and lower every da}'', and
the utter impossibility of making up his min<l what to
do became at lencjth afjonizini?. To have turned and
gone back the hundreds of miles over which he had
travelled would have caused hiui some anxiety under

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

anv circMiiiistances, but to do so while Joe and Henri
were either wandering about there or in the power of
the savages was, he felt, out of the question. Yet in
which way should he go ? Whatever course he took
might lead him farther and farther away from them.

In this dilemma he came to the determination of
remaining where he was, at least until the snow should
leave the jjround.

He felt great relief even when this hopeless course
was decided upon, and set about making himself an en-
campment with some degree of cheerfulness. When he
had completed this task, he took his rifle, and leaving
Charlie picketed in the centre of a dell, where the long,
rich grass rose high above the snow, went ofi' to hunt.

On turning a rocky point his heart suddenly bounded
into his throat, for there, not thirty yards distant, stood
a huge grizzly bear !

Yes, there he was at last, the monster to meet which
the young hunter had so often longo(l — the terrible size
and fierceness of which he had heard so often spoken
about by the old hunters. There it stood at last ; but
little did Dick Varley think that the first time he should
meet with his foe should be when alone in the dark re-
cesses of the Rocky Mountains, and with none to succour
him in the event of the battle going against hinj. Yes,
there was one. The faithful Crusoe stood by his side,
with his hair bristling, all his formidable teeth exposed,
and his eyes glaring in their sockets. Alas for poor
Crusoe had ho i^-one into tliat combat alone! One stroke
of that monster's paw would have hurled him dead upon
the ground.

CHAl'TEH XVII.

Dick's Jirst fiijht icith a iirizzly — Adventure with a deer — A suvprisc.

THERE is no animal in all tlio land so temldc and
dangerous as the grizzly bear. Not only is lie the
largest ot* the species in America, but he is the fiercest,
the strongest, and the most tenacious of life — facts which
are so well understood that few of the western hunters
like to meet him single-handed, unless they happen
to be first-rate shots ; and the Indians deem the en-
counter so dangerous that to wear a collar composed
of the claws of a grizzly bear of his own killing is
counted one of the highest honours to which a young
warrior can attain.

The grizzly bear resembles the brown bear of Europe,
but it is larger, and the hair is long, the points being
of a paler shade. About the head there is a consider-
able mixture of gray hair, giving it the "grizzly" appear-
ance from which it derives its name. The claws are
dirty white, arched, and very long, and so strong that
when the animal strikes with its paw they cut like a
chisel. These claws are not embedded in the paw, as
is the case with the cat, but always project far beyond
the hair, thus giving to the foot a very ungainly np-

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208

THE DOGJ CRUSOE.

pi.
I'

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(

])oarance. They arc not sufficiently curved to enable the
grizzly bear to climb trees, like the black and brown
bears ; and this inability on their part is often the only
hope of the pursued hunter, who, if he succeeds in
ascending' a ti'ee, is safe, for the time at least, from the
bear's assaults. But " Caleb " is a patient creature, and
will often wait at the foot of the tree for many hours
for his victim.

The average length of his body is about nine feet,
but he sometimes attains to a still larger growth.
Caleb is more carnivorous in his habits than other
bears ; but, like them, he does not object to indulge
occasionally in vegetable diet, being partial to the bird-
cherry, the clioke-berry, and various shrubs. He has
a sweet tooth, too, and revels in honey — when he can
get it.

The instant the grizzly bear beheld Dick Varley
standing in his path, he rose on his hind legs and made
a loud hissing noise, like a man breathing quick, but
much harsher. To this Crusoe replied by a deep growl,
and showing the utmost extent of his teeth, gums and
all; and Dick cocked both barrels of his rifle.

To say that Dick Varley felt no fear would be simply
to make him out that sort of hero which does not exist
in nature — namely, a perfect hero. He did feel a sensa-
tion as if his bowels had suddenly melted into water !
Let not our reader think the worse of Dick for this.
There is not a man living who, having met with a huge
grizzly bear for the first time in his life in a wild, soli-
tary place, all alone, has not experienced some such
sensation. There was no cc .ardice in this feeling.

bii-a-

piply
exist

kensa-

ratev !
this.

Ihuge

soli-

Isucb

[ling.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

200

Fear is not cowardice. Actinjj in a wroniif and con-
teniptible manner because of our fear is cowardice.

It is said that Wellington or Napoleon, we forget
which, once stood watching the muster of the men who
were to form the forlorn-hope in storming a citadel.
There were many brave, strong, stalw^art men there, in
the prime of life, and flushed with the blood of high
health and courage. There were also there a few stern-
browed men of riper years, who stood perfectly silent,
with lips compressed, and as pale as death. " Yonder
veterans," said the general, pointing to these soldiers,
" are men whose courage I can depend on ; they Imoiv
what they are going to, the others don't!" Yes, these
young soldiers very probably were brave; the others
certainly were.

Dick Varley stood for a few seconds as if thunder-
struck, while the bear stood hissing at him. Then the
liquefaction of his interior ceased, and he felt a glow
of fire fjush throuijh his veins. Now Dick knew^ well
enough that to fly from a grizzly bear was the sure and
certain way of being torn to pieces, as when taken thus
by surprise they almost invariably follow a retreating
enemy. He also knew that if he stood where he was,
perfectly still, the bear would get uncomfortable under
his stare, and would retreat from him. But he neither
intended to run away himself nor to allow the bear to
do so ; he intended to kill it, so he raised his rifle quickly,
" drew a bead," as the hunters express it, on the bear's
heart, and flred.

It immediately dropped on its fore legs and rushed
at him.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Back, Crusoe! out of the way, pup ! " shouted Dick, as
his favourite was about to spring forward.

Tiie dog retired, and Dick leaped behind a tree. As
the bear passed he gave it the contents of the second
barrel behind the shoulder, which brought it down ; but
in another moment it rose and again ruslicd at him.
Dick had no time to load, neither had he time to spring-
up the thick tree beside which he stood, and the rocky
nature of the ground out of which it grew rendered it
impossible to dodge round it. His only resource was
Hight ; but where was he to fly to ? If he ran along
the open track, the bear would overtake him in a few
seconds. On the right was a sheer precipice one hundred
fecL liigh; on the left was an impenetrable thicket, in
despair ho thought for an instant of clubbing his rifle
and meeting the monster in close conflict : but the utter
hopelessness of such an effort was too apparent to be
entertained for a moment. He glanced up at the o. t-
hanging clifl's. There were one or two rents and pro-
jections close above him. In the twinkling of an eye
he sprang up and grasped a lodge of about an inch
broad, ten or twelve feet up, to which he clung while
he glanced upward. Another projection was within
reach ; he gained it, and in a few seconds he stood upon
a ledge about twenty feet up the clilT, where he had just
room to plant his feet firmly.

Witl ^ ut waiting to look behind, he seijied liis powder-
horn and loaded one bari'el of liis rifle ; and well was it
for him tliat liis early training Imd fitted him to do this
witli rapidity, for the bear daslied up the precipice after
him at once. Tlie first time it missed its hold, and fell

Ivdcr-
'as it
this

I after

II fell

THE DOG CRUSOE.

211

l)nck ^vitll a savairo crowl ; but on the second attempt
it snnk its long claws into the fissures between the rocks,
and ascended steadily till within a foot of the place
where Dick stood.

At this moment Crusoe's obedience gave way before
a sense of Dick's dan^'er. Utterinir one of his lion-like
roars, he rushed u]) the precipice with such violence
that, although naturally unable to climb, ho reached and
seized the bear's flank, despite his master's stern order
to " keep back," and in a moment the two rolled down
the face of the rock together, just as Dick completed
loading.

Knowing that one stroke of the bea)"'s paw would be
certain death to his poor dog, Dick leaped from his
porch, and with one bound reached the ground at the
Kamo moment with the struggling animals, and close
beside them, and, beioro they had ceased rolling, he
placed the muzzle of his rifle into tho bear's ear, and
blew out its brains.

Crusoe, strange to say, escaped with ordy one scratch
on the side. It was a deep one, but not dangerous, and
gave him but little pain at the time, although it caused
him many a smart for some weeks after.

Thus happily ended Dick's first encounter with a
grizzly bear ; and although, in the course of his wild
life, he shot many specimens of " Caleb," ho used to say
that " ho an' pup wei'o never so near goin' under as on
the day he (h't)pped Unit l)ar ! "

Having refreshed himself with a long draught from
a neighbouring I'ivulet, and washed (h'usoe's wound,
Dick skinned the bear on the spot.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Wc chawed him up that time, didn't wc, pup ? "
said Dick, with a smile of satisfaction, as he surveyed
his prize.

Crusoe looked up and asserted to this.

" Gave us a hard tussle, though ; very nigh sent us
both under, didn't he, pup ? "

Crusoe agreed entirely, and, as if the remark re-
minded him of honourable scars, he licked his wound.

" Ah, pup ! " cried Dick, sympathetically, " does't hurt
ye, eh, poor dog ? "

Hiirt him ? such a question ! No, he should think
not ; better ask if that leap from the precipice hurt
yourself.

So Crusoe might have said, but he didn't ; he took
no notice of the remark whatever.

" We'll cut him up now, pup," continued Dick.
" The skin'U make a splendid bed for you an' me o'
nights, and a saddle for Charlie."

Dick cut out all the claws of the bear by the roots,
and spent the remainder of that night in cleaning them
and stringing them on a strip of leather to form a
necklace. Independently of the value of these enormous
claws (the largest as long as a man's middle finger) as
an evidence of prowess, they formed a remarkably grace-
ful collar, which Dick wore round his neck ever after
with as nuich pride as if he had been a Pawnee warrior.

When it was finished he held it out at arm's- lenjfth,
and said, " Crusoe, my pup, ain't ye proud of it ? I'll
teil ye Avhat it is, pup, the next time you an' I floor
Caleb, I'll put the claws round your neck, an' make ye
wear cm ever arter, so I will."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

213

oots,

lem

|in a

lOUS

) as
ace-
i'ter
lor.

I'll
oor

The dog did not seem quite to appreciate this piece
of prospective good fortune. Vanity had no place in
his honest breast, and, sooth to say, it had not a large
place in that of his master either, as we may well grant
when we consider that this first display of it was on the
occasion of his hunter's soul having at last realized its
brightest day-dream.

Dick's dangers and triumphs seemed to accumulate
on him rather thickly at this place, for on the very
next day he had a narrow escape of being killed by a
deer. The way of it was this.

Having run short of meat, and not being particularly
fond of grizzly bear steak, he shouldered his rifie and
sallied forth in quest of game, accompanied by Crusoe,
whose frequent glances towards his wounded side
showed that, whatever may have been the case the day
before, it " hurt " him now.

They had not gone far when they came on the track
of a deer in the snow, and followed it up till they spied
a magnificent buck about three hundred yards off',
standing in a level patch of ground which was every-
where surrounded either by rocks or thicket. It was a
long shot, but as the nature of the ground rendered it
impossible for Dick to get nearer without being seen,
he fired, and wounded the buck so badly that he came
up with it in a few minutes. The snow had drifted in
the place where it stood bolt upright, ready for a spring,
so Dick went round a little way, Crusoe following, till
he was in a proper position to fire again. Just as he
pulled the trigger, Crusoe gave a howl behind him and
disturbed his aim, so that he feared he had missed : but

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214

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ill

the deer fell, and he hurried towards it. On coming
up, however, the buck sprang to its legs, rushed at him
with its hair bristling, knocked him down in the snow,
and deliberately commenced stamping him to death.

Dick was stunned for a moment, and lay quite still,
so the deer left ott' pommelling him, and stood looking
at him. But the instant he moved it plunged at him
again and gave him another pounding, until he was
content to lie still. This was done several times, and
Dick felt his strength going fast. He was surprised
that Crusoe did not come to his rescue, and once he
cleared his mouth and whistled to him ; but as the
deer gave him another pounding for this, he didn't
attempt it again. He now for the first time bethought
him of his knife, and quietly drew it from his belt ;
but the deer observed the motion, and was on him
again in a moment. Dick, however, sprang up on his
left elbow, and making several desperate thrusts up-
ward, succeeded in stabbing the animal to the heart.

Rising and shaking the snow from his garments, he
whistled loudly to Crusoe, and, on listening, heard him
whining piteously. He hurried to the place whence
the sound came, and found that the poor dog had fallen
into a deep pit or crevice in the rocks, which had been
concealed from view by a crust of snow, and he was
now making frantic but unavailing ettbrts to leap out.

Dick soon freed him from liis prison by means of
his belt, which he let down for the dog to grasp, and
then returned to camp with as much deer-meat as he
could carry. Dear meat it certainly was to him, for it
had nearly cost him his life, and left him all black and

THE DOG CRUSOE.

215

blue for weeks after. Happily no bones "were broken,
so the incident only contined him a day to hi;s encamp-
ment.

Soon after this the snow fell thicker than ever, and
it became evident that an unusually early winter was
about to set in among the mountains. This wa a
terrible calamity, for if the regular snow of winter set
in, it would be impossible for him either to advance or
retreat.

While he was sitting on his bearskin by the camp-
tire one day, thinking anxiously what he should do, and
feeling that he must cither make the attempt to escape
or perish miserably in that secluded spot, a strange, un-
wonted soimd struck upon his ear, and caused both him
and Crusoe to spring violently to their feet and listen.
Could he be dreamino' ? — it seemed like the sound of
human voices. For a moment he stood with his eyes
rivettod on the ground, his lips apart, and his nostrils
distended, as he listened with the utmost intensity.
Then he darted out and bounded round the edge of a
rock which concealed an extensive but narrow valley
from his view, and there, to his amazement, he beheld a
band of about a hundred human beings advancing on
horseback slowly through the snow.

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CHAPTER XVIII.

A surprise, and a piece off/ond neivs — The fur-traders — Crusoe proved, and

the Pciyans pursued.

DICK'S first and most natural impulse, on beholding
this band, was to mount his horse and fly, for
his mind naturally enough recurred to the former rough
treatment he had experienced at the hands of Indians.
On second thoughts, however, he considered it wiser to
throw himself upon the hospitality of the strangers ;
" for," thought he, " they can but kill me, an' if I re-
main here I'm like to die at any rate."

So Dick mounted his wild horse, grasped his rifle in
his right hand, and, followed by Crusoe, galloped full
tilt down the valley to meet them.

He had heard enough of the customs of savage tribes,
and had also of late experienced enough, to convince
him that when a man found himself in the midst of an
overwhelming force, his best policy was to assume an
air of confident courage. He therefore approached them
at his utmost speed.

The effect upon the advancing band was electrical ;
and little wonder, for the young hunter's appearance
was very striking. His horse, from having rested a
good deal of late, was full of spirit. Its neck was

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THE DOG CRIJ.'OE.

217

arched, its nostrils expanded, ^nd its mane and tail
never having been checked in their growth Hew wildly
around him in voluminous curls. Dick's own hair, not
having- been clipped for many months, appeared scarcely
less wild, as they thundered down the rocky pass at
what appeared a break-neck gallop. Add to this the
grandeur of the scene out of which they sprang, iuid
the gigantic dog that bounded by his side, and you will
not be surprised to hear that the Indian warriors clus-
tered together, and prepared to receive this bold horse-
man as if he, in his own proper person-, were a complete
squadron of cavalry. It is proV)able, also, that they
fully expected the tribe of which Dick was the chief to
be at his heels.

As he drew near the excitement among the strangers
seemed very great, and, from the peculiarity of the
various cries that reached him, he knew that there were
women and children in the band — a fact which, in such
a place and at such a season, was so unnatural that it
surprised him very much. He noted also that, though
the men in front were Indians, their dresses were those
of trappers and hunters, and he almost leaped out of his
saddle when he observed that " Pale-faces " were among
them. But he had barely time to note these facts when
he was up with the band. According to Indian custom,
he did not check his speed till he was within four or
five yards of the advance-guard, who stood in a line
before him, quite stilJ, and with their rifles lying loosely
in their left palms ; then he reined his steed almost on
its haunches.

One of the Indians advanced and spoke a few words

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in a language which was quite unintelligible to Dick,
who replied, in the little Pawnee he could muster, that
he didn't understand him.

" Why, you must be a trapper ! " exclaimed a thick-
set, middle-aged man, riding out from the group. " Can
you speak English ? "

" Ay, that can I," cried Dick joyfully, riding up and
shaking the stranger heartily by the hand ; " an' right
glad am I to fall in wi' a white-skin an' a civil tongue
in his head."

" Good sooth, sir,'' replied the stranger, with a quiet
smile on his kind, weather-beaten face, ** I can return
you the compliment ; for when I saw you come thun-
dering down the corrie with that wonderful horse and
no less wonderful dog of yours, I thought you were the
wild man o' the mountain himself, and had an ambush
ready to back you. But, young man, do you mean to
say that you live here in the mountain all alone after
this fashion ? "

" No, that I don't. I've corned here in my travels,
but truly this bean't my home. But, sir (for I see
you are what the fur-traders call a bourgeois), how
comes it that such a band as this rides i' the mountains ?
D'ye mean to say that they live here ? " Dick looked
round in surprise, as he spoke, upon the crowd of
mounted men and women, with children and pack-
horses, that now .surrounded him.

" 'Tis a fair question, lad. I am a principal among
the fur-traders whose chief trading-post lies near the
Pacific Ocean, on the west side of these mountains ; and
J have como with these trappers and their families, as

THE DOG CRUSOE.

210

you see, to hunt tlie beaver and other animals for a
season in the mountains. We've never been here be-
fore ; but that's a matter of little moment, for it's not
the first time I've been on what may be called a dis-
covery-trading expedition. We are somewhat entangled,
however, just now among these wild passes, ani. if you
can guide us out of our difficulties to the east side of
the mountains, I'll thank you heartily and pay you M^ell.
But first tell me who and what you are, if it's a fair
question."

" My name is Dick Varley, and my home's in the
Mustang Valley, near the Missouri River. As to ivhat
I am — I'm notliin' yet, but I hope to desarve the name
o' a hunter some day. I can guide you to the east side
o' the mountains, for I've comed from there ; but more
than that I can't do, for I'm a stranger to the country
here, like yourself. But you're on the east side o' the
mountains already, if I mistake not ; only these moun-
tains are so rugged and jumbled up, that it's not easy
tellin' where ye are. And what," continued Dick,
" may be the name o' the bourgeois who speaks to
me ? "

" My name is Cameron — Walter Cameron — a well-
known name amono; the Scottish hills, althouich it
sounds a little strange here. And now, young man,
will you join my party as guide, and afterwards remain
as trapper ? It will pay you better, I think, than
roving about alone."

Dick shook his head and looked arave. " I'll uuide
you," said he, " as far as my knowledge '11 help me ;
but after that I must return to look for two comrades

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

whom T have lost. They have been driven into the
mountains by a band of Injuns. God grant they may
not have bin scalped ! "

Tlie trader's face looked troubled, and he spoke with
one of his Indians for a few minutes in earnest, hurried
tones,

" What were they like, young man ? "

Dick described them.

" The same," continued the trader. " They've been
seen, lad, not more than two days ago, by this Indian
here, when he was out hunting alone some miles away
from our camp. He cam*^ suddenly on a band of
Indians who had two prisoners with them, such as you
describe. They were stout, said you ? "

" Yes, both of them," cried Dick, listening with in-
tense eagerness.

" Ay. They were tied to their horses, an' from what
I know of these fellows I'm sure they're doomed. But
I'll help you, my friend, as well as I can. They can't
be far from this. I treated my Indian's story about
them as a mere fabrication, for he's the most notorious
liar in my company ; but he seems to have spoken truth
for once."

" Thanks, thanks, good sir," cried Dick. " Had we
not best turn back and follow them at once ? "

" Nay, friend, not quite so fast," replied Cameron,
pointing to his people. "These must be provided for
first, but I shall be ready before the sun goes down.
And now, as I presume you don't bivouac in the snow,
will you kindly conduct us to your encampment, if it be
not far hence ? "

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

221

Altlioiirrh burning with impatience to fly to the roscuo
of liis friends, Dick felt constrained to comply with so
reasonable a request, so he led the way to his camping-
place, where the band of fur-traders immediately began
to pitch th^ir tents, cut down wood, kindle fires, till
their kettles with water, cook their food, and, in fact,
make themselves comfortable. The wild spot which, an
hour before, had been so still, and grand, and gloomy,
was now, as if by magic, transformed into a bustling
village, with bright fires blazing among the rocks and
bushes, and merry voices of men, women, and children
ringing in the air. It seemed almost incredible, and
no wonder Dick, in his bewilderment, had difficulty in
believing it was not all a dream.

In days long gone by the fur-trade in that country
w^as carried on in a very different way from the manner
in which it is now conducted. These wdld regions, in-
deed, are still as lonesome and untenanted (save by
wild beasts and w^andering tribes of Indians) as they
were then ; but the Indians of the present day have
become accustomed to the " Pale-face " trader, whose
little wooden forts or trading-posts are dotted here and
there, at wide intervals, all over the land. But in the
days of which w^e write it was not so. The fnr-ti*aders
at that time went forth in armed bands into the- heart
of the Indians' country, and he who went forth did so
" with his life in his hand." As in the case of the
soldier who went out to battle, there was great proba-
bility that he might never return.

The band of which Walter Cameron was the chief
had, many months before, started from one of the dis-

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tant posts of Oregon on a lumting expedition into the
then totally unknown lands of the Snake Indians. It
consisted of ahout sixty men, thirty women, and as
many children of various ages — about a hundred and
twenty souls in all. Many of the boys were capable of
using the gun and setting a beaver-trap. The men were
a most motley set. There were Canadians, half-breeds,
Iroquois, and Scotchmen. Most of the women had
Indian blood in their veins, and a few were pure
Indians.

The equipment of this strange band consisted of up-
wards of two hundred beaver-traps — which are similar to
our rat-traps, with this difference, that they have tw^o
springs and no teeth — seventy guns, a few articles for
trade with the Indians, and a large supply of powder
and ball ; the whole — men, women, children, goods, and
chattels — being carried on the backs of nearly four
hundred horses. Many of these horses, at starting, were
not laden, being designed for the transport of furs that
were to be taken in the course of the season.

For food this adventurous party depended entirely on
their guns, and during the march hunters were kept
constantly out ahead. As a matter of course, their
living was precarious. Sometimes their kettles were
overflowing ; at others they scarce refrained from eating
their horses. But during the months they had already
spent in the wilderness good living had been the rule,
starvation the exception. They had already collected a
large quantity of beaver skins, which at that time were
among the most valuable in the market, although they
are now scarcely saleable !

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THE DUU cut SUE.

22.S

Having shot t\v<> wild horses, seven elks, six small
deer, and four big-hoined sheep the day hefore they
met Diek Viirley, the eamp kettles were full, and the
people consequently happy.

" Now, Master Dick N'arley," said Cameron, touching
the young hunter on the shoulder as he stood ready
ecpiipped by one of the camp-tires, " I'm at your service.
The people won't need any more looking after to-night.
I'll divide my men — thirty shall go after this i-ascally
band of Peigans, for such I believe they are, and thirty
shall remain to guard the camp. Are you ready ? "

" Ready ! ay, this hour past."

" Mount then, lad ; the men have already been told
oft", and arc mustering down yonder where the deer gave
you such a licking."

Dick needed no second bidding. He vaulted on
Charlie's back, and along with tlieir commander joined
the men, who were tliirty as fine, hardy, reckless look-
ing fellows as one could desire for a forlorn-hope. They
were chatting and laughing while they examined their
guns and saddle-girths. Their horses were sorry look-
ing animals compai-ed with the magnificent creature
that Dick bestrode, but they were hardy, nevertheless,
and well fitted for their peculiar w^ork.

" My ! wot a blazer ! " exclaimed a trapper as Dick
rode up.

" Where you git him ? " incjuired a half-breed.

'' I caught him," answered Dick.

" Baw ! " cried the iirst speaker.

Dick took no notice of this last remark.

" No, did ye though ? " he asked again.

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" I did," answered Dick quietly. " I creased liim in
tlic praiiie ; you can see the mark on his neck if you
look."

The men began to feel that the young hunter Wfis
perhaps a little beyond them at their own trade, and re-
garded him with increased respect.

" Look sharp now, lads," said Cameron, impatiently,
to several dilatory members of the band. " Night will
be on us ere long."

" .Who sold ye the bear-claw collar ? " inquired an-
other man of Dick.

" I didn't buy it. I killed the bear and made it."

" Did ye, though, all be yer lone ? "

" Ay ; that wasn't much, was it ? "

" You've begun well, yonker," said a tall, middle-aged
hunter, wdiose general appearance was nou unlike that of
Joe Blunt. " Jest keep clear o' the Injuns an' the grog
bottle, an' ye've a glor'cas life before ye."

At this point the conversation was interrupted by the
order being given to move on, which was obeyed in
silence, and the cavalcade, descending the valley, entered
one of the gorges in the mountains.

For the first half-mile Cameror >'ode a little ahead of
his men, then he turned to speak to one of Lhem, iiul
for the first time observed Crusoe trotting close beside
his master's horse.

" Ah ! Master Dick," he exclaimed with a troubled
expression, " that won't do. It would never do to take
a dog on an expedition like this."

" Why not ? " asked Dick; " the pup's quiet and peace-

able.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

225

" I doubt it not ; but he will betray our presence to
the Indians, which migh'^ be inconvenient."

" I have travelled more than a thousand miles through
prairie and forest, among game an' among Injuns, an'
the pup never betrayed me yet," said Dick, with sup-
pressed vehemence. " He has saved my life more than
once though,"

" You seem to have perfect confidence in your dog,
but as this is a serious matter you must not expect me
to share in it without proof of his trustworthiness."

" The pup may be useful to us ; how would you have
it proved ? " inquired ]3ick.

" Any way you like."

"You forgot your belt at starting, I think I heerd
ye say."

"Yes, I did," replied the trader, siT^iPng.

Dick immediately took hold of Cameron's coat, and
bade Crusoe smell it, which the dog did very carefully.
Then he showed him his own belt and said, " Go back
to the camp and fetch it, pup."

Crusoe was oif in a moment, and in less than twentv
minutes returned with Cameron's belt in his mouth.

" Well, I'll trust him," said Cameron, patting Crusoe's
head. " Forward, lads ' " and away they went at a brisk
trot along the bottom of a beautiful valley on each side
of which the mountains towered in dark masses. Soon
the moon rose and afforded light suffici' nt to enable
them to travel all night in the track of the Indian
hunter who said he had seen the Peigans, and who was
constituted guide to the part^i . Hour after liour the
horsemen pressed on without check, now galloping over

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

a level plain, now bounding by the banks of a rivulet,
or bending their heads to escape the boughs of over-
hanging trees, and anon toiling slowly up among the
rocks of some narrow defile. At last the moon set, and
the order was given to halt in a little plain where there
were wood and water.

The horses were picketed, a fire kindled, a mouthful
of dried meat hastily eaten, the watch was set, and then
each man scraped away the snow, spread some branches
on the ground, and wrapping himself in his blanket,
went to sleep with his feet presented towards t^o fire.

Two hours were allowed for rest; the?i 'V were
awakened, and in a few minutes were off again by the
gray light of dawn. In this way they travelled two
nights and a day. At the end of that time they caT^^e
suddenly on a small party of nine Indians, v/ho were
seated on the gror d with their snow-shoes and blankets
by their sides. They had evidently been taken by sur-
prise, but they made no attempt to escape, knowing
tliat it was useless. Each sat still with his bow and
arrows between his legs on the ground ready for instant
use.

As soon as Cameron spoke, however, in their own
language they felt relieved, and began to talk.

" Where do you come from, and what are you doing
here ? " asked the trader.

" We have come to trade with the white men," one
of them replied, " and to hunt. We have come from
the Missouri. Our country is far away."

" Do Peigans hunt with luar-arroiva ? " asked Camei^yii,
pointing to their weapons.

were
inkcts
sur-
[owing
IV and

stari

own

K.loing

one
from

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

227

This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw
thiit their interrogator knew the dift'ei'ence between a
war and a hunting; arrow — the former beino" barbed in
order to render its extraction from the wound diffcult,
while the head of the latter is round, and can be drawn
out of game that has been killed, and used again.

" And do Peigans," continued Cameron, " come from a
far country to trade with the white men with nothing f "

Again the Indians were silent, for they had not an
article to trade about them.

Cameron now felt convinced that this party of
Peigans, into whose hands Joe Blunt and Henri had
fallen, were nothing else than a war party, and that
the men now before him were a scouting party sent out
from them, probably to spy out his own camp, on the
trail of which they had fallen, so he said to them : —

" The Peigans are not wise men ; they tell lies to the
traders. I will tell you that you are a war party, and
that you are only a few warriors sent out to spy the
traders' camp. You have also two Pale-face prisoners
in your camp. You cannot deceive me. It is useless
to try. Now, conduct me to your camp. ^\y object
is not war ; it is peace. I will speak with your chiefs
about trading with the white men, and we will smoke
the pipe of peace. Are my words good ? "

Despite their proverbial control of muscle, these In-
dians could not conceal their astonishment at hearing
so much of their affairs thus laid bare ; so they said
that the Pale-face chief was wise, that he must be a
great medicine man, and that what he said was all true
except about the Vviiite men. They had never seen any

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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Pale-faces, and knew nothing whatever about those he
spoke of.

This was a terrible piece of news to poor Dick, and
at first his heart fairly sank within him, but by degrees
he came to be more hopeful. He concluded that if
these men told lies in regard to one thing, they would
do it in regard to another, and perhaps they might
have some strong reason for denying any knowledge of
Joe and Henri.

Thv' Indians now packed up the buffalo robes on
which had slept, and the mouthful of provisions

they had laken with them

" I don't believe a word of what they say about your
friends," said Cameron to Dick in a low tone while the
Indians were thus engaged. " Depend upon it they
hope to hide them till they can send to the settlements
and get a ransom, or till they get an opportunity of
torturing them to death before their women and chil-
dren when they get back to their own village. But
we'll balk them, my friend, do not fear."

The Indians were soon ready to start, for they were
cumbered with marvellously little camp equipage. In
less than half-an-hour after their discovery they were
running like deer ahead of the cavalcade in the direction
of the Peigan camp.

; (

(JHAPTER XIX.

S 5

kere
In
ere

Ition

Adventures vuth the Peiiians — Crusoe dues <inod serrice as a discoverer—
The saraijes outwitted— The rescue.

A RUN of twenty miles brought the travellers to a
rugged defile in the mountains, from which they
had a view of a beautiful valley of considerable extent.
During the last two days a steady thaw had been rapidly
melting away the snow, so that it appeared only h^^re
and there in the landscape in dazzling patches. At the
distance of about half-a-mile from where they halted to
breathe the horses before commencing the descent into
this vale, several thin wreaths of smoke were seen
rising above the trees.

" Is that your camp ? " inquired Cameron, riding up
to the Indian runners, who stood in a group in front,
looking as fresh after their twenty miles' run as though
they had only had a short walk.

To this they answered in the affirmative, adding that
there were about two hundred Peigans there.

It might have been thought that thirty men would
have hesitated to venture to attack so large a number
as two hundred ; but it had always been found in the
experience of Indian life that a few resolute white men
well armed were more than a match for ten times their

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

number of Indians. And this arose not so much from
the superior strength or agility of the Whites over their
red foes, as from that bull-dog courage and utter reck-
lessness of their lives in combat — qualities which the
crafty savage can neitlier imitate nor understand. The
information was received M'ith pcifect indifference by
most of the trappers, and with contemptuous laughter
by some ; for a largu number of Cameron's men were
wild, evil-disposed fellows, who would have as gladly
taken the life of an Indian as that of a buffalo.

Just as the \vord was given to resume the march,
Dick Varley rode up to Cameron and said in a some-
what anxious tone, —

" D'ye obsarve, sir, that one o' the Redskins has gone
off ahead o' his comrades ? "

" I see that. Master Dick ; and it was a mistake of
mine not to have stopped him, but he was gone too far
before I observed it, and I thought it better to appear
unconcerned. We must push on, though, and give him
as short time as possible to talk with his comrades in
the camp."

The trappers pressed forward accordingly at a gallop,
and were soon in front of the clump of trees amongst
which the Peigans were encamped. Their approach
had evidently spread great alarm among them, for there
M''as a good deal of bustle and running to and fro ; but
by the time the trappers had dismounted and advanced
in a body on foot, the savages had resumed their usual
quiet dignity of appearance, and were seated calmly
round their fires with their bows and arrows beside
them. There were no tents, no women or children, and

THE DOG CRUSOE.

231

igst

the general aspect of the men showed Cameron con-
clusively that his surmise about their being a war party
was correct.

A council was innnediately called. The trappers ranged
themselves on one side of the council fire and the Indians
on the other. Meanwhile, our friend Crusoe had been
displaying considerable irritability against the Indians,
and he would certainly have attacked the whole two
hundred single-handed if he had not been ordered by
his master to lie still ; but never in his life before had
Crusoe obeyed with such a bad grace. ' He bristled and
whined in a low tremulous tone, and looked imploringly
at Dick as if for permission to fly at them.

" The Pale-face traders are glad to meet with the
Peigans," began Cameron, who determined to make no
allusion to his knowledge that they were a war party,
" for they wish to be friends with all the children of the
woods and prairies. They wish to trade with them — to
exchange blankets, and guns, and beads, and other goods
which the Peigans require, for furs of animals which the
Pale-faces require."

" Ho ! ho ! " exclaimed the Indians, which expression
might be translated, " Hear ! hear ! "

" But," continued Cameron, " we wish to have no war.
We wish to see the hatchet buried, and to see all the
red men and the white men smoking the pipe of peace,
and hunting like brothers."

The " Ho — ho — ing " at this was very emphatic.

" Now," resumed the trader, " the Peigans have got
two prisoners — two Pale-faces — in their camp, and as
we caimot be on good terms while our brothers are

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

detained, we have come to ask for them, and to present
some gifts to the Peigans."

To this there was no " Ho " at all, but a prolonged
silence, which was at length interrupted by a tall chief
stepping forward to address the trappers.

" What the Pale-face chief has said is good," began
the Indian. " His words are wise, and his heart is not
double. The Red-men are willing to smoke the pipe of
peace, and to hunt with all men as brothers, but they
cannot do it while many of their scalps are hanging in
the lodges of their enemies and fringing the robes of the
warriors. The Peigans must have vengeance ; then they
will make peace."

After a short pause he continued, —

"The chief is wrong when he savs there are Pale-

faces in the

Peigan

camp.

The Peisfans are not

at war with the Pale-faces ; neither have they seen
any on their march. The camp is open. Let the
Pale-faces look round and see that what we say is
true."

The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he
concluded, as if to say, " Search amongst them. There
are no Pale-faces there."

Cameron now spoke to Dick in a low tone. " They
speak confidently," he said, "and I fear greatly that
your poor comrades have either been killed or conveyed
away from the camp and hidden among the mountains,
in which case, even though they should not be far off,
it would be next to impossible to find them, especially
when such a band of rascals is near, compelling us to
keep together. But I'll try what a little tempting them

THE DOG CRUSOE.

2a3

with goods will do. At any rate, we shan't give in
without a scuffle."

It now, for the first time, flashed across Dick Varloj'
that there was somethino; more than ho imaoined in
Crusoe's restless anxiety, which had not in the least
abated, and the idea of making use of him now occurred
to his mind.

" I've a notion that I'll settle this matter in a shorter
time than you think," he said hurriedly, " if you'll agree
to try what threatening will do."

The trader looked grave and imdccided. " I never
resort to that except as a last hope," he answered ; " but
I've a good deal of c^* Klence in your prudence. What
would you advise ? "

Dick and the trader whispered a few minutes together,
while some of the men, in order to show the Indians how
perfectly unconcerned they were, and how ready for
anything, took out their pipes and began to sraoke.
Both parties were seated on the ground, and during this
interval the Indians also held eager discussion.

At length Cameron stood up, and said to his men in
a quiet tone, " Be ready, lads, for instant action. When
I give the word ' Up,' spring to your feet and cock your
guns ; but don't fire a shot till you get the tuord." He
then stepped forward and said, —

" The Peigan warriors are double-tongued ; they know
that they have hid the Pale-face prisoners. We do not
wish to quarrel, but if they are not delivered 'ip at once
the Pale-faces and the Peigans will not be friends."

Upon this the Indian chief again stood forward and
said, " The Peigans are not double-tongued. They have

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234

THE DOG CRUSOE.

not seen Pale-faces till to-day. They can say no
more."

AVithout moving hand or foot, Cameron then said in
a firm tone, " The first Peigan that moves shall die !
Up, lads, and ready ! "

In the twinkling of an eye the trappers sprang to
their feet, and cocking their rifles stood perfectly motion-
less, scowling at the savages, who were completely taken
by surprise at the unusual suddenness and informality
of such a declaration of war. Not a man moved, for,
unlike white men, they seldom risk their lives in open
light ; and as they looked at the formidable row of
muzzles that waited but a word to send instant death
into their midst, they felt that discretion was at that
time the better part of valour.

" Now," said Cameron, while Dick Varley and Crusoe
stepped up beside him, " my young warrior will search
for the Pale-face prisoners. If they are found, we will
take them and go away. If they are not found, we
will ask the Peigans to forgive us, and will give them
gifts. But in the meantime, if a Peigan moves from
the spot where he sits, or lifts a bow, mj young men
shall fire, and the Peigans know that the rifle of the
Pale-face always kills."

Without waiting for an answei:, Dick immediately
said, " Seek 'em out, pup," and Crusoe bounded away.

For a few minutes he sprang hither and thither
through the camp, quite regardless of the Indians, and
snufted the air several times, whining in an excited
tone, as if to relieve his feelings. Then he put his nose
to the ground and ran straight forward into the woods.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

235

Dick immedifitolv Loiinded after him like a deer, ^vhile
the trappers kept silent guard over the savages.

For some time Crusoe ran straight forward. Then he
came to a spot where there was a good deal of drifted
snow on the ground. Here lie seemed to lose the trail
for a little, and ran about in all directions, whining in a
most piteous tone.

" Seek 'em out, pup," repeated ])ick encouragingly,
while his own breast heaved with excitement and ex-
pectation.

In a few seconds the dog resumed its onward course,
and led the way into a wild, dark spot, which was so
overshadowed by trees and precipitous cliffs that the
lioht of the sun scarce found entrance. There were
many huge masses of rock scattered over the ground,
which had fallen from the cliffs. Behind one of these
lay a mound of dried leaves, towards which Crusoe
darted and commenced scraping violently.

Trembling with dread that he should find this to be
the grave of his murdered companions, Dick rushed
forward and hastily cleared away the leaves. The first
handful thrown off revealed part of the figure of a man.
Dick's heart beat audibly as he cleared the leaves from
the face, and he uttered a suppressed cry on beholding
the well-know-n features of Joe Blunt. But they w^ere
not those of a dead man. Joe's eyes met his with a
scowl of anger, which instantly gave place to one of
intense surprise.

" Joe Blunt ! " exclaimed Dick in a voice of intense
amazement, while Crusoe snuffed round the heap of
leaves and whined with excitement. But Joe did not

236

THE DOG CRUSOE.

move, neither did he speak a word in reply — for the
very good reason that his mouth was tightly bound
with a band of leather, his hands and feet were tied,
and his whole body was secured in a rigid, immovable
position by being bound to a pole of about his own
lenixth.

In a moment Dick's knife was out, bands and cords
were severed, and Joe Blunt w^as free.

"Thank God!" exclaimed Joe with a deep, earnest sigh,
the instant his lips were loosened, "and thanks to you,
lad!" he added, endeavouring to rise; but his limbs had
become so benumbed in consequence of the cords by
which they had been compressed that for some time he
could not move.

" I'll rub ye, Joe ; I'll soon rub ye into a r* fc state,"
said Dick, going down on his knees.

" No, no, lad, look sharp and dig up Henri. He's
just beside me here."

Dick immediately rose, and pushing aside the heap
of leaves, found Henri securely bound in the same
fashion. But he could scarce refrain from laughing at
the expression of that worthy's face. Hearing the voices
of Joe and Dick Varley in conversation, though unable
to see their persons, he was filled with such unbounded
amazement that his eyes, when uncovered, were found
to be at their largest possible stretch, and as for the
eyebrows they were gone, utterly lost among the roots
of his voluminous hair.

" Henri, friend, I knew I should find ye," said Dick,
cutting the thongs that bound him. " Get up if ye
can ; we haven't much time to lose, an' mayhap we'll

ii ii

THE DOG CRUSOE.

or-?

have to fight afore we're done wi' the Redskins. Can
ye rise ? "

Henri could do nothing but lie on his back and Cfasp,
" Eh ! possible ! mon frere ! Oh, non, non, not possible.
Oui ! my broder Deek ! "

Here he attempted to rise, but being unable fell liack
again, and the whole thing came so suddenly, and made
so deep an impression on his impulsive mind, that lu;
incontinently burst into tears ; then he burst into a long
laugh. Suddenly he paused, and scrambling up to a
sitting posture, looked earnestly into Dick's face tln-ough
his tearful eyes.

'' Oh, non, non ! " he exclaimed, stretching himself
out at full length again, and closing his eyes ; " it are
too goot to be true. I am dream. I vill wait till I am
wake."

Dick roused him out of this resolute sleep, however,
somewhat roughly. Meanwliile Joe had rubbed and
kicked himself into a state of animation, exclaiming that
he felt as if he wos walkin' on a thousand needles and
pins, and in a few minutes they were ready to accom-
pany their overjoyed deliverer back to the Peigan camp.
Crusoe testified his delight in various elephantine gam-
bols round the persons of his old friends, who were not
slow to acknowledge his services.

" They haven't treated us overly well," remarked Joe
Blunt, as they strode through the underwood.

" Non, de rascale, vraiment, de am villains. Oui !
How de have talk, too, 'bout — oh-o-oo-ooo-wah ! — roastin'
us alive, an' puttin' our scalp in de vigvani for de poo-
poose to play wid I "

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Well, niver mind, Henri, we'll be quits wi' them
now," said Joe, as they came in sight of the two bands,
who remained in precisely the same position in w^hich
they had been left, except that one or two of the more
reckless of the trappers had lit their pipes and taken to
smoking, without, however, laying down their rifles or
taking their eyes oft* the savages.

A loud cheer greeted the arrival of the prisoners, and
looks o/ considerable discomfort began to be evinced by
the Indians.

" Glad to see you, friends," said Cameron, as they
came up.

'' Ve is 'appy ov de same," replied Henri, swaggering
up ill the joviality of his heart, and seizing the trader's
hand in his own enormous fist. " Shall ve go to vork
an' slay dem all at vonce, or von at a time ? "

" We'll consider that afterwards, my lad. Meantime
go you to the rear and get a weapon of some sort."

" Oui. Ah ! c'est charmant," he cried, going with an
immense flounder into the midst of the amused trappers,
and slapping those next to him on the back. " Give mo
veapon, do, mes amis — gun, pistol, anyting — cannon, if
you have von."

Meanwhile Cameron and Joe spoke together for a few
moments.

" You had goods with you, and horses, I believe, when
you vere captured," said the former.

" Ay, that we had. Yonder stand the horses, under
the pine-tree, along wi' the rest o' the Redskin troop ; an'
a hard time they've had o't, as tluMr bones may tell with-
out spenkin' As foi* the goods," he continued, glancing

THE DOG CRUSOE.

2:]i)

nder
; an'
rith-

Icing

round the camp, " I don't know wliero -ah ! yes, there
they be in the old pack. I see all safe."

Cameron now addressed the Indians.

" The Peigans," he said, " have not done well. Their
hearts have not been true to the Pale-fuces. Even now
I could take your scalps where you sit, but white men
do not like war, they do not like revenge. The Peigans
may go free."

Considering the fewness of their nund>ers, this was
bold language to use towards the Indians ; but the bold-
est is generally the best policy on such occasions. IVIore-
over, Cameron felt that, being armed with rities, while
the Indians had only bows and arrows, the trappei-s had
a great advantage over them.

The Indian who had spoken before now rose and sai<l
he was sorry there should be any cause of difference
between them, and added he was sorry for a gi'eat many
more things besides, but he did not say he was sorry for
having told a lie.

" But, before you go, you must deliver up the horses
and goods belonging to these men," said Cameron, point-
ing to Joe and Henri.

This was agreed to. The horses were led out, tlie two
little packs containing Joe's goods were strapped ui)()n
them, and then the tra]^pers turned to depart. The In-
dians did not move until they had mounted ; then they
rose and advanced in a l)ody to tlie edge of the wood, to
see the Pale-faces go away. IMeanwhile Jo(^ spoke a few
words to Cameron, and the men were ordered +o lialt,
while the former dismounted and led his horse towards
the band of savaues.

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240

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Peigans," he said, " you know the object for which
I came into this country was to make peace between
you and the Pale-faces. I have often told you so when
you would not listen, and when you told me that I had
a double heart and told lies. You were wrong when
you said this ; but I do not wonder, for you live among
nations who do not fear God, and who think it right to
lie. I now repeat to you what I said before. It would
be good for the Red-men if they would make peace with
the Pale-faces, and if they would make peace with each
other. I will now convince you that I am in earnest,
and have all along been speaking the truth."

Hereupon Joe Blunt opened his bundle of goods, and
presented fully one-half of the gaudy and brilliant con-
tents to the astonished Indians, who seemed quite taken
aback by such generous treatment. The result of this
was that the two parties separated with mutual expres-
sions of esteem and good-will. The Indians then returned
to the forest, and the white men galloped back to their
camp among the hills.

':4

CHAPTER XX.

Neil) plans — Our trnvcUcrs join the fur-tmdcrs, and sec manij stramjc thimjs —
^4 curious fiyht— A narrow escape^ and a prisoner taken.

^T OT long after the events related in the last chap-
\ ter, our four friends — Dick, and Joe, and Henri,
and Crusoe — agreed to become for a time members of
Walter Cameron's band of trappers. Joe joined because
one of the objects which the traders had in view was
similar to his own mission — namely, the promoting of
peace among the various Indian tribes of the mountains
and plains to the west. Joe, thorefore, thought it a
good opportunity of ^ravelling with a band of men who
could secure him a lavourable hearing from tlie Indian
tribes they might chance to meet with in the course of
their wanderings. Besides, as the traders carried about
a large supply of goods with them, he cou! I easily re-
plenish his own nearly exhausted pack by hunting wild
animals and exchanging their skins tor such articles as
he might require.

Dick joined because it afforded him opportunity of
seeing the wild, majestic scenery of the Rocky Moun-
tains, and shooting the big-horned sheep which abounded
there, and the grizzly " bars," as Joe named them, or
" Caleb," as they were more frequently styled by Henri
and the other men.

flip

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242

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Hcni-i joined because it was agreeable to the inclina-
tion of his own rollicking, blundering, floundering, crash-
ing disposition, and because he would have joined any-
thing that had been joined by the other two.

Crusoe's reason for joining was single, simple, easy to
be expressed, easy t^> be understood, and commendable.
He joined — because Dick did.

The very day after the party left the encampment
where Dick had shot the grizzly heer and the deer, he
had the satisfaction of bringing down a splendid speci-
men of the big-horned sheep. It came suddenly out
iVom a gorge of the mountain, and stood upon the giddy
edge of a tremendous precipice, at a distance of about
two hundred and fifty yards.

" You could not hit that," said a trapper to Heiui,
who was rather fond of jeering him about his short-
sightedness.

" Non ! " cried Henri, who didn't see the animal in the
least ; " say you dat ? ve shall see ; " and he let Hy with a
promptitude that amazed his comrades, and with a result
that drew from them peals of laughter.

" Why, you have missed the mountain ! "

" Oh, non ! dat am oempossoble."

It was true, nevortheitss, for his ball had been arrested
in its flight by the stem of a tree not twenty yards before
him.

While the shot was yet ringing, and before the laugh
above referred to had pealed forth, ])ick Varley flred,
and the animal, springing wildly into the aii', fell down
the precipice, and was almost dai lied to pieces at their
feet.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

243

This Rocky Mountain or big-horned sneep was a par-
ticularly large and fine one, but being a patriarch of the
flock was not well suited for food. It was considerably
larger in size than the domestic sheep, and might be
described as somewhat resembling a deer in the body
and a ram in the head. Its horns were the chief point
of interest to Dick ; and, truly, they were astounding !
Their enormous size was out of all proportion to the
animal's body, and they curved backwards and down-
wards, and then curled up again in a sharp point. These
creatures frequent the inaccessible heights of the Rocky
Mountains, and are difficult to approach. They have a
great fondness for salt, and pay regular visits to the
numerous caverns of these mountains, \^'hich are en-
crusted with a saline substance.

Walter Cameron now changed his intention of })ro-
ceeding to the eastward, as he found the country not so
full of beaver at that particular spot as he had antici-
pated. He therefore turned towards the west, pene-
trated into the interior of the mountains, and took a
considerable sweep through the lovely valleys on their
western slopes.

The expedition which this enterprising fur-trader was
conducting was one of the first that ever penetrated
these v/ild regions in search of furs. The ground over
which they travelled was quite new to them, and having
no guide they just moved about at haphazard, encamp-
ing on the margin of every stream or river on which
signs of the presence of beaver were discovered, and
setting their traps,

Beaver skins at this timr were worth 25s. a-piuce in

fit

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244

THE DOG CRUSOE.

the markets of civilized lands, and in the Snake country,
through which our friends were travelling, thousands of
them were to be had from the Indians for trinkets and
baubles that were scarce worth a farthing. A beaver
skin could be procured from the Indians for a brass
finger-ring or a penny looking-glass. Horses were also
so numerous that one could be procured for an axe or a
knife.

Let not the reader, however, hastily conclude that the
traders cheated the Indians in this traffic, though the
profits were so enormous. The ring or the axe was in-
deed a trifle to the trader, but the beaver skin and the
horse were equally trifles to the savage, who could pro-
cure as many of them as he chose with very little
trouble, while the ring and the axe were in his estima-
tion of priceless value. Besides, be it remembered, to
carry that ring and that axe to the far-distant haunts of
the Red-man cost the trader weeks and months of con-
stant toil, trouble, anxiety, and, alas ! too frequently cost
him his life ! The state of trade is considerably modi-
fied in these regions at the present day. It is not more
justly conducted, for, in respect of the valuo of goods
given for furs, it was justly conducted then, but time
and circumstances have tended more to equalize the re-
lative values of articles of trade.

The snow which had prematurely fallen had passed
away, and the trappers now found themselves wandering
about in a country so beautiful and a season so delight-
ful, that it would have seemed to them a perfect para-
dise, but for the savage tribes who hovered about them,
and kept them ever on the qui vive.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

245

They soon passed from the immediate embrace of stu-
pendous heights and dark gorges to a land of sloping-
ridges, which divided the country into a hundred luxuri-
ant vales, composed part of woodland and part of prairie.
Through these, numerous rivers and streams How^'d de-
viously, beautifying the landscape and enriching the
land. There were also many lakes of all sizes, and
these swarmed with fish, while in some of them were
found the much-souoht-after and hic^hlv-esteemed beaver.
Salt springs and hot springs of various temperatui-es
abounded here, and many of the latter were so hot that
meat could be boiled in them. Salt existed in all direc-
tions in abundance and of good quality. A sulphurous
spring was also disco verod, bubbling out from the base
of a perpendicular rock three hundred feet high, the
waters of which were dark-blue and tasted like gun-
powder. In short, the land presented every variety of
feature calculated to charm the imaijination and delight
the eye.

It was a mysterious land, too ; for broad rivers burst in
many places from the earth, flowed on for a short space,
and then disappeared as if l)y magic into the earth from
which they rose. Natural bridges spanned the torrents
in many places, and some of these were so correctly
formed that it was difficult to believe they had not been
built by the hand of man. They often appeared oppor-
tunely to our trappers, and saved them the trouble and
danger of fording rivers. Frequently the whole band
would stop in silent wonder and awe as they listened to
the rushing of waters under their feet, as if another
world of streams, and rapids, and cataracts were flowing

246

THE DOG CRUSOE.

below the crust of earth on whien they stood. Some
considerable streams were likewise observed to gush
from the faces of precipices, some twenty or thirty feet
from their summits, while on the top no water was to
be seen.

Wild berries of all kinds were found in abundance,
and wild vegetables, besides many nutritious roots.
Among other fish, splendid salmon were found in the
lakes and rivers, and animal life swarmed on hill and
in dale. Woods and valleys, plains and ravines, teemed
with ib. On every plain the red-deer grazed in herds
by the banks of lake and stream. Wherever there were
clusters of poplar and elder trees and saplings, the beaver
was seen nibbling industriously with his sharp teeth,
and committing as much havoc in the forest as if he
had been armed with the woodman's axe ; others sported
in the eddies. Racoons sat in the tree- tops ; the marten,
the black fox, and the wolf prowled in the woods in
quest of prey ; mountain sheej; and goats browsed on
the rocky ridges ; and badgers peeped from their holes.

Here, too, the wild horse sprang snorting and di-
shevelled from his mountain retreats — with llourishincj
mane and tail, spanking step, and questioning gaze —
and thundered away over the plains and valleys, while
the rocks echoed back his shrill neigh. The huge,
heavy, ungainly elk, or moose-deer, trotted away from
the travellers with speed equal to that of the mustang :
elks seldom gallop ; their best speed is attained at the
trot. Bears, too, black, and brown, and grizzly, roamed
about everywhere.

So numerous were all these creatures that on ore

THE DOG CRUSOE.

247

! :!

occasion the hunters of the party brought in six wild
horses, three bears, four elks, and thirty red-deer ; having
shot them all a short distance ahead of the main body,
and almost without divcrixinL'^ from the line of march.
And this was a matter of everyday occurrence — as it
had need to be, considering the number of mouths that
had to be filled.

The feathered tribes were not less numerous. Chief
among these were eagles and vultures of uncommon size,
the wild goose, wild duck, and the majestic swan.

In the midst of such profusion the trappers spent a
happy time of it, when not molested by the savages, but
they frequently lost a horse or two in consequence of
the expertness of these thievish fellows. They often
wandered, however, for days at a time without seeing
an Indian, and at such times they enjoyed to the full
the luxuries with which a bountiful God had blessed
these romantic regions.

Dick Yarley was almost wild with delight. It was
his first excursion into the remote wilderness ; he was
young, healthy, strong, and romantic ; and it is a ques-
tion whether his or his dog's heart, or that of the noble
wild horse he bestrode, bounded most with joy at the
glorious sights and sounds and influences by which they
were surrounded. It would have been perfection, had it
not been for the frequent annoyance and alarms caused
by the Indians.

Alas I alas ! that we who write and read about those
wondrous scenes should have to condemn our own species
as the most degraded of all the works of the Creator
there ! Yet so it is. Man, exercising liis reason and

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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conscience in the path of love and duty which his Creator
points out, is God's noLlest work ; but man, left to the
freedom of his own fallen will, sinks morally lower than
the beasts that perish. Well may every Christian wish
and pray that the name and the gospel of the blessed
Jesus may be sent speedily to the dark places of the
earth ; for you may read of, and talk about, but you
cannot conceive the fiendish wickedness and cruelty which
causes tearless eyes to glare, and maddened hearts to
burst, in the lands of the heathen.

While we are on this subject, let us add (and our young
readers will come to know it if they are spared to see
many years) that civilization alone will never improve
the heart. Let history speak, and it will tell you that
deeds of darkest hue have been perpetrated in so-called
civilized though pagan lands. Civilization is like the
polish that beautifies inferior furniture, which water will
wash off if it be but hot enough. Christianity resembles
dye, which permeates every fibre of the fabric, and which
nothing can eradicate.

The success of the trappers in procuring beaver here
was great. In all sorts of creeks and rivers they were
found. One day they came to one of the curious rivers
before mentioned, which burst suddenly out of a plain,
flowed on for several miles, and then disappeared into the
earth as suddenly as it had risen. Even in this strange
place beaver were seen, so the traps were set, and a
hundred and fifty were caught at the first lift.

The manner in which the party proceeded was as
follows : — They marched in a mass in groups or in a long
line, according to the nature of the ground over Mdiich

THE DOG CRUSOE.

240

•

they travelled. The hunters of the party went forward
a mile or two in advance, and .scattered throuujh the
woods. After them came the advance-Cfuard, beini-- the
bravest and most stalwart of the men mounted on their
best steeds, and with rifle in hand ; innnediately behind
followed the women and children, also mounte<l, and
the pack-horses with the goods and camp equipai^e.
Another band of trappers formed the rear-guard to this
imposing cavalcade. There was no strict regimental
order kept, but the people soon came to adopt the
arrangements that w^ere most convenient for all parties,
and at length fell naturally into their places in the line
of march.

Joe Blunt usually w^as the foremost and always the
most successful of the hunters. He was therefore seldom
seen on the march except at the hour of starting, and at
night when he came back leading his horse, which always
groaned under its heavy load of meat. Henri, being a
hearty, jovial soul and fond of society, usually kept with
the main body. As for Dick, he was everywhere at
once, at least as much so as it is possible for human
nature to be ! His horse never wearied ; it seemed to
delight in going at full speed ; no other horse in the
troop could come near Charlie, and Dick indulged him
by appearing now at the front, now at the rear, anon in
the centre, and frequently noiuhcve ! — having gone off
with Crusoe like a flash of lightnins: after a bufl'alo or a
deer. Dick soon proved himself to be the best hunter
of the party, and it was not long before he fulfilled his
promise to Crusoe and decorated his neck with a collar
of grizzly bear claws.

250

THE DOG CRUSOE.

I li

Well, when the trappers came to a river where there
were signs of beaver they called a halt, and proceeded
to select a safe and convenient spot, near wood and
water, for the camp. Jiere the property of the band
was securely piled in such a manner as to form a breast-
work or slight fortification, and here Walter Cameron
established headquarters. This was always the post
of danger, being exposed to sudden attack by prowling
savages, who often dogged the footsteps of the party in
their journeyings to see what they could steal. But
Cameron was an eld hand, and they found it difficult to
escape his vigilant eye.

From this point all the trappers were sent forth in
small parties every morning in various directions, some
on foot and some on horseback, according to the dis-
tances they had to go ; but they never went farther
than twenty miles, as they had to return to camp every

cvenmg.

Each trapper had ten steel traps allowed him. These
he set every night, and visited every morning, sometimes
oftener when practicable, selecting a spot in the stream
where many trees had been cut down by beavers for the
purpose of damming up the water. In some places as
many as fifty tree stumps were seen in one spot, within
the compass of half an acre, all cut through at about
eigliteen inches from the root. We may remark, in
passing, that the beaver is very much like a gigantic
water-rat, with this marked difference, that its tail is
very broad and flat like a paddle. The said tail is a
greatly-esteemed article of food, as, indeed, is the whole
body at certain seasons of the year. The beaver's fore

THE DOG CRUSOE,

251

legs arc very small and short, and it uses its paws as
hands to convey food to its nioutli, sittino- the while in
an erect po.- ition on its hind legs and tail. Its fur is
a dense coat of a grayish -colon red down, conc(^aled hy
long coarse hair, which lies smooth, and is of a hright
chestnut colour. Its teeth and Jaws are of enormous
power ; with them it can cut through the branch of a
tree as thick as a walking-stick at one snap, and, as we
have said, it onaws throuoh thick trees themselves.

As soon as a tree falls, the beavers set to woik in-
dustriously to lop off the branches, which, as well ns the
smaller trunks, they cut into lengths, according t(^ their
weight and thickness. These are then dragged by
main force to the water-side, launched, and floated to
their destination. Beavers build their houses, or
" ledges," under the banks of rivers and lakes, and al-
ways select those of such depth of water that there is
no danfjer of their bein": frozen to the bottom. When
such cannot be fovmd, and they are compelled to build
in small rivulets of insufficient depth, these clever little
creatures dam up the waters until they are deep enough.
The banks thrown up by them across rivulets for this
purpose are of great strength, and would do credit to
human entjineers. Their lodj^es are built of sticks,
mud, and stones, which form a compact mass ; this
freezes solid in winter, and defies the assaults of that
housebreaker, the wolverine, an animal which is the
beaver's implacable foe. From this lodge, which is
capable often of holding four old and six or eight young
ones, a communication is maintained with the water
below the ice, so that, should the wolverine succeed in

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252

THE DOG CRUSOE.

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breaking up the lodge, ho finds the family " not at
home," they hav'n,<T^ made good their retreat by the
back-door. When nmn acts the part of housebreaker,
however, lie cunningly shuts the back-door fn'sf, by
driving stakes through the ice, and thus stopping the
passage. Thc3n he enters, and, we almost regret to say,
finds the family at home. We regret it, because the
beaver is a gentle, peaceable, affectionate, hairy little
creature, towards which one feels an irresistible tender-
ness. But to return from this long digression.

Our trappers, having selected their several localities,
set their traps in tho water, so that when the beavers
roamed about at night they put their feet into them,
and were caught and droAvned ; for although they can
swim and dive admirably, they cannot live altogether
under water.

Thus the different parties proceeded ; and in the
mornings the camp was a busy scene indeed, for then
the whole were engaged in skinning the animals. The
skins vere nlways stretched, dried, folded up with the
hair in the inside, and laid by , and the flesh was used
for food.

Bat oftentimes the trappers had to go forth with the
gun in one hand and thei'- traps in the other, while
they kept a sharp look-out on the bushes to guard
against surprise. ])cspite their utmost efforts, a horse
was occasionally stolen before their very eyes, and
sometimes even an unfortunate trapper was murdered,
and all his tra|)s carried off.

An event of this kird occurred soon after the party
had gained the western slopes of the mountains. Three

THE DOG CRUSOE.

253

Iroquois Indians, who belonged to tlie band of trappers,
were sent to a stream about ten miles otl'. Havins:
reached their destination, they all entered the water to
set their traps, foolishly neglecting the usual precaution
of one remaining on the bank to protect the others.
They had scarcely commenced operations when three
arrows were discharged into their backs, and a party of
Snake Indians rushed upon and slew them, carrying
away their traps and horses and scalps. This was not
known for several days, when, becoming anxious about
their prolonged absence, Cameron sent out a party,
which found their mano-led bodies affording a loathsome
banquet to the wolves and vultures.

After this sad event, the trappers were more careful
to go in larger parties, and keep watch.

As long as beaver were taken in abundance, the
camp remained stationary ; but whenever the beaver
began to grow scarce, the camp was raised, and the
party moved on to another valley,

One day Dick Varley came galloping into camp with
the news that there were several bears in a valley not
far distant, which he was anxious not to disturb until a
number of the trappers were collected together to go
out and surround them.

On receiving the information, Walter C-ameron shook
his head.

" We have other things to do, young man," said ho,
"than iio a-huntinjx after bears. I'm just about makinu"
up my mind to send off a party to search out the valley
on the other side of the Blue Mountains yonder, and
bring back word if there are hoaver tlun'o ; for if not, I

1 in

2,54

THE DOG CRUSOE.

mean to strike away direct south. Now, if you've a
mind to go with them, you're welcome. I'll warrant you'll
lind enough in the way of bear-hiniting to satisfy you ;
perhaps a little Indian hunting to boot, for if the Banat-
tees get hold of your horses, you'll have a long hunt
l)efore you find tliem again. Will you go ? "

" Ay, right gladly," replied Dick. " When do w^e
start ? "

" This afternoon."

Dick went ofi* at once to his own part of the camp to
replenish his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and wipe
out his rifle,

That evening the party, under command of a Cana-
dian named Pierre, set out for the Blue Hills. They
numbered twenty men, and expected to be absent three
days, for they merely went to recornioitre, not to trap.
Neither Joe nor Henri was of this party, both having
been out hunting when it was organized ; but Crusoe
and Charlie were, of course.

Pierre, although a brave and trusty man, was of a
sour, angry disposition, and not a favourite with Dick ;
but the latter resolved to enjoy himself, and disregard
his sulky comrade. Being so well mounted, he not un-
frequently shot far ahead of his companions, despite
their warnings that he ran great risk by so doing. On
one of these occasions he and Crusoe witnessed a very
singular fight, which is worthy of record.

Dick had felt a little wilder in spirit that morning
than usual, and on coming to a pretty open plain he
gave the rein to Charlie, and with an " Adieu, ines citmn-
radcH" he was out of sight in a few minutes. He rode

Ull-

fpito
On

lin<r
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THE DOG CRUSOE.

255

on several miles in advance without checking speed, and
then came to a wood where rapid motion was incon-
venient ; so he pulled up, and, dismounting-, tied (yharlie
to a tree, while he sauntered on a short way on foot.

On coming to the edge of a small plain he observed
two large birds engaged in mortal conflict. Crusoe ob-
served them too, and would soon have; put an end to the
fight had Dick not checked him. Creeping as close to
the belligerents as possible, he found that one was a
wild tu!-key-cock, the other a white-headed eagle. These
two stood with their heads down and all their feathers
bristling for a moment ; then they da.shed at each other,
and struck liercely with their spurs, as our domestic
cocks do, but neither fell, and the fight was continued
for about five minutes without apparent advantage on
either side.

Dick now observed that, from the uncertainty of its
motions, the turkey-cock was blind, a discovery which
caused a throb of compunction to enter liis breast for
standing and looking on, so lie ran forward. The eagle
saw him instantly, and tried to tly away, but was imable
fro:n exhaustion.

" At him, Crusoe," cried Dick, whoso sympathies all
lay with the other bird.

Crusoe went forward at a bound, and was met by a
peck between the eyes that would have turned most
dogs ; but Crusoe only winked, and the next moment
the eagle's career was ended.

Dick found that the turkey-cock was quite blind, tho
eagle having thrust out both its eyes, so, in mercy, he
put an end to its sufferings.

256

THE DOG CRUSOE.

I '

The fight hfid evidently been a long and severe one,
for the grass all round the spot, for about twenty yards,
was beaten to the ground, and covered with the blood
and feathers of the fierce combatants.

Meditating on the fight which he had just witnessed,
Dick returned towards the spot where he had left
Charlie, when he suddenly missed Crusoe from his side.

" Hallo, Crusoe ! here, pup ! where are you ? " ho
cried.

The only answer to this Avas a sharp whizzing sound,
and an arrow, passing close to his ear, quivered in a
tree beyond. Almost at the same moment Crusoe's
angry roar was followed by a shriek from some one in
fear or agony. Cocking his rifle, the young hunter
sprang through the bushes towards his horse, and was
just in time to save a Banattee Indian from being
strangled by the dog. It had evidently scented out
this fellow, and pinned him just as he was in the act of
springing on the back of Charlie, for the halter was cut,
and the savage lay on the ground close beside him.

Dick called oft* the dog, and motiont I to the Indian
to rise, which he did so nimbly that it was quite evi-
dent he had sustained no injury beyond the laceration
of his neck by Crusoe's teeth, and the sni-prise.

He was a tall strong Indian for the tribe to which
he belonged, so Dick proceeded to secure him at once.
Pointing to his rifle and to the Indian's breast, to show
what he might expect if he attempted to escape, Dick
ordered Crusoe to keep him steadj/ in that position.

The dog planted himself in front of the savage, who
began to tremble for his scalp, and gazed up in his face

THE DOG CRUSOE.

257

ovi-

liicli

jncc.

how

>ick

'bo
tace

with a look which, to say the least of it, was the reverse
of amiable, while Dick went towards his horse for the
purpose of procuring a piece of cord to tie hiui with.
The Indian naturally turned his head to see what was
going to be done, but a peculiar gurgle in Crusoe's throat
made him turn it round again very smartly, and he did
not venture thereafter to move a muscle.

In a few seconds Dick returned with a piece of
leather and tied his hands behind his back. While this
was being done the Indian glanced several times at his
bow, which lay a few feet away, where it had fallen
when the dofj caufjht him ; but Crusoe seemed to under-
stand him, for he favoured him with such an additional
display of teeth, and such a low — apparently distant,
almost, we might say, subterranean — rmnhle, that he
resigned himself to his fate.

His hands secured, a long line was attached to his
neck with a runnino- noose, so that if he ventured to
run away the attempt would effect its own cure by pro-
ducing strangulation. The other end of this line was
given to Crusoe, who at the word of command marched
him off, while Dick mounted Charlie and brought up
the rear.

Great was the laughter and merriment when this
apparition met the eyes of the trappers ; but when they
heard that he had attempted to shoot Dick their ire was
raised, and a court-martial was held on the spot.

" Hang the reptile ! " cried one.

" Burn l)im ! " shouted another.

"No, no," said a third; "don't imitate them villains j
don't be ci'uel. Let's shoot him."

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258

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Shoot 'im," cried Pierre. " Oui, dat is de ting ; it
too goot pour lui, mais it shall be dooed."

" Don't ye think, lads, it would be better to let the
poor wretch off ? " said Dick Varley ; " he'd p'r'aps give
a good account o' us to his people."

There was a universal shout of contempt at this niild
proposal. Unfortunately, few of the men sent on this
exploring expedition were imbued with the peace-making
spirit of their chief, and most of them seemed glad to
have a chance of venting their hatred of the poor Indians
on this unhappy wretch, who, although calm, looked
sharply from one speaker to another, to gather hope, if
possible, from the """^nes of their voices.

Dick was resolved, at the risk of a quarrel with Pierre,
to save the poor man's life, and had made up his mind
to insist on having him conducted to the camp to be
tried by Cameron, when one of the men suggested that
they should take the savage to the top of a hill about
three miles farther on, and there hang him up on a tree
as a warning to all his tribe.

" Agreed, agreed ! " cried the men ; " come on."

Dick, too, seemed to agree to this proposal, and hastily
ordered Crusoe to run on ahead with the savage ; an
order which the dog obeyed so vigorously that, before
the men had done laughing at him, he was a couple of
hundred yards ahead of them.

"Take care that he don't get off!" cried Dick, spring-
ing on Charlie and stretching out at a gallop.

In a moment he was beside the Indian. Scraping to-
gether the little of the Indian language he knew, he stooped
down, and, cutting the tliongs that bound him, said, —

THE DOG CRUSOE.

259

the

^stily
an
ifore
lie of

ling-

[r to-

)ped

" Go ! white men love the Indians."
Tlie man cast on his deliverer one glance of surprise,
and the next moment bounded aside into the bushes and

was gone.

A loud shout from the party behind showed that this
act had been observed ; and Crusoe stood with the end
of the line in his mouth, and an expression on his face
that said, "You're absolutely incomprehensil»le, Dick!
It's all right, I know, but to my feeble capacity it seems
wrong."

" Fat for you do dat ? " shouted Pierre in a rage, as
he came up with a menacing look.

Dick confronted him. " The prisoner was mine. I
had a right to do with him as it liked me."

" True, true," cried several of the men who had begun
to repent of their resolution, and were glad the savage
was off. " The lad's right. Get along, Pierre."

" You had no right, you vas wrong. Oui, et I have
goot vill to give you one knock on de nose."

Dick looked Pierre in the face, as he said this, in a
manner that cowed him.

" It is time," he said quietly, pointing to the sun, " to
go on. Your bourgeois expects that time won't be
wasted."

Pierre muttered something in an angry tone, and
wheeling round his horse, dashed forward at full gallop,
followed by the rest of the men.

The trappers encamped that night on the edge of a
wide grassy plain, which offered such tempting food for
the horses that Pierre resolved to forego his usual
cautious plan of picketing them close to the camp, and

260

THE DOG CRUSOE.

.' ?i

set them loose on the plain, merely hobbling them to
prevent their straying far.

Dick remonstrated, but in vain. An insolent answer
was all he got for his pains. He determined, however,
to keep Charlie close beside him all night, and also made
up his mind to keep a sharp look-out on the other
horses.

At supper he again remonstrated.

" No 'fraid," said Pierre, whose pipe was beginning to
improve his temper. " The red reptiles no dare to come
in open plain when de moon so clear."

" Dun know that," said a taciturn trapper, who seldom
ventured a remark of any kind ; " them varmints 'ud
steal the two eyes out o' you' head when they set their
hearts on't."

" Da't ar' umposs'ble, for dey have no hearts," said a
half-breed ; " dey have von hole vere de heart vas
be."

This was received v/ith a shout of laughter, in the
midst of which an appalling yell was heard, and, as if
by magic, four Indians w^ere seen on the backs of four
of the best horses, yelling lik'^ fiends, and driving all the
other horses furiously before them over the plain !

How they got there was a complete mystery, but the
men did not wait to consider that point. Catching up
their guns they sprang after them with the fury of mad-
men, and were quickly scattered far and wide. Dick
ordered Crusoe to follow and help the men, and turned
to spring on the back of Charlie ; but at that moment
he observed an Indian's head and shoulders rise above
the grass, not fifty yards in advance from him, so with-

THE DOG CRUSOE.

261

out hesitation he darted forward, intending to pounce
upon him.

Well would it have been for Dick Varley had he at
that time possessed a little more experience of the wiles
and stratagems of the Banattees. The Snake nation is
subdivided into several tribes, of which those inhabiting
the Rocky Mountains, called the Banattees, are the most
perfidious. Indeed, they are confessedly the banditti of
the hills, and respect neither friend nor foe, but rob all
who come in their way.

Dick reached the spot where the Indian had disap-
peared in less than a minute, but no savage was to be
.seen. Thinking he had crept ahead, he ran on a few
yards farther, and darted about hither and thither,
while his eye glanced from side to side. Suddenly a
shout in the camp attracted his attention, and looking
back he beheld the savage on Charlie's back turning to
fly. Next moment he was off and away far beyond the
hope of recovery. Dick had left his rifle in the camp,
otherwise the savage would have gone but a short way.
As it was, Dick returned, and sitting down on a mound
of grass, stared straight before him with a feeling akin
to despair. Even Crusoe could not have helped him
had he been there, for nothing on four legs, or on two,
could keep pace with Charlie.

The Banattee achieved this feat by adopting a strata-
gem which invariably deceives those who are ignorant
of their habits and tactics. When suddenly pursued the
Banattee sinks into the grass, and, serpent-like, creeps
along with wonderful rapidity, not fvoTYi but towards
his enemy, taking care, however, to avoid him, so that

St!

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262

THE DOG CRUSOE.

when the pursuer reaches the spot where the pursued is
supposed to be hiding, he hears him shout a yell of
defiance far away in tlie rear.

It was thus that the Banattee eluded Dick and gained
the camp almost as soon as the other reached the spot
where he had disappeared.

One by one the trappers came back weary, raging,
and despairing. In a short time they all assembled,
and soon began to reproach each other. Ere long one
or two . had a fight, which resulted in several bloody
noses and black eyes, thus adding to the misery which,
one would think, had been bad enough without such
additions. At last they finished their suppers and their
pipes, and then lay down sleep under the trees till
morning, when they arose in a particularly silent and
sulky mood, rolled up their blankets, strapped their
things on their shoulders, and began to trudge slowly
back to the camp on foot.

•;

CHAPTER XXI.

Wohcs attack the horses, and Cameron circumvents the evolves — A bear-hunt,
in which Henri shines conspicuous — Joe and the ''Natter-list" — An
alarm — A surprise and a capture.

WE must now return to the camp where Walter
Cameron still guarded the goods, and the men
pursued their trapping avocations.

Here seven of the horses had been killed in one night
by wolves while grazing in a plain close to the camp,
and on the night following a horse that had strayed
was also torn to pieces and devoured. The prompt and
darins: manner in which this had been done convinced
the trader that white wolves had unfortunately scented
them out, and he set several traps in the hope of cap-
turing them.

White wolves are quite distinct from the ordinary
wolves that prowl through woods and plains in large
packs. They are much larger, weighing sometimes as
much as a hundred and thirty pounds ; but they are
comparatively scarce, and move about alone, or in small
bands of three or four. Their strength is enormous,
and they are so fierce that they do not hesitate, upon
occasions, to attack man himself. Their method of
killing horses is very deliberate. Two wolves generally

264

THE DOG CRUSOE.

undertake the cold-blooded murder. They approach
their victim with the most innocent-looking and frolic-
some gambols, lying down and rolling about, and
frisking presently, until the horse becomes a little
accustomed to them. Then one approaches right in
front, the other in rear, still frisking playfully, until
they think themselves near enough, when they make
a simultaneous rush. The wolf which approaches in
rear is the true assailant ; the rush of the other is a
mere feint. Then both fasten on the poor horse's
haunches, and never let go till the sinews are cut and
he is rolling on his side.

The horse makes comparatively little struggle in
this deadly assault ; he seems paralyzed, and soon falls
to rise no more.

Cameron set his traps towards evening in a circle
with a bait in the centre, and then retired to rest.
Next morning he called Joe Blunt, and the two went
off together.

" It is strange that these rascally white wolves should
be so bold when the smaller kinds are so cowardly,"
remarked Cameron, as they walked along.

" So 'tis," replied Joe ; " but I've seed them other
chaps bold enough too in the prairie when they were
in large packs and starvin'."

"I believe the small wolves follow the big fellows,
and help them to eat what they kill, though they
generally sit round and look on at the killing."

" Hist ! " exclaimed Joe, cocking his gun ; " there he
is, an' no mistake."

There he was, undoubtedly. A wolf of the largest

lid

THE DOG CRUSOE.

265

with

of his feet in the

size with one ot ins teet in tlie trap, ile was a terrible-
looking object, for, besides his immense size and natur-
ally ferocious aspect, his white hair bristled on end and
was all covered with streaks and spots of blood from
his l)loody jaws. In his etlbrts to escape he had l)itten
the trap until he had broken his teeth and lacerated his
gums, so that his appearance was hideous in the extreme.
And when the t^vo men came up ho struggled with all
his might to fly at them.

Cameron and Joe stood looking at him in a sort of
wonderinq- admiration.

" We'd better put a ball in him," suggested Joe after
a time. " Mayhap the chain won't stand sich tugs long."

" True, Joe ; if it break, we might get an ugly nip
before we killed him."

So saying Cameron fired into the wolf's head and
killed it. It was found, on examination, that four
wolves had been in the traps, but the rest had escaped.
Two of them, however, had gnawed off their paws and
left them lying in the traps.

After this the bio- wolves did not trouble them aq;ain.
The same afternoon a bear-hunt was undertaken, which
well-nigh cost one of the Iroquois his life. It happened
thus : —

While Cameron and Joe were away after the white
wolves, Henri came floundering into camp tossing his
arms like a maniac, and shouting that " seven bars wos
be down in de bush close by ! " It chanced that this
was an idle day with most of the men, so they all leaped
on their horses, and taking guns and knives sallied forth
to give battle to the bears.

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2(36

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Arrived at the scene of action, they ^'ound the seven
bears busily engaged in digging up roots, so the men
separated in order to surround thcin, and then closed in.
The place was partly open and partly covered with
thick bushes into which a horseman could not penetrate.
The moment the bears aot wind of what was o-oino;
forward they Jiiade off as fast as possible, and then com-
menced a scene of firing, galloping, and yelling that
dc les description ! Four out of the seven were shot
before they gained the bushes ; the other three were
wounded, but made good their retreat. As their places
of shelter, however, were like islands in the plain, they
had no ohance of escaping.

The horsenn 1 now dismounted and dashed recklessly
into the bushes, where they soon discovered and killed
two of the bears ; the third was not found for some
time. At last an Iroquois came upon it so suddenly
that he had not time to point liis gun before the bear
sprang upon him and struck liiui to the earth, where it
lield him down.

Instantlj^ the place was su)'rounded by eager men ; but
the bushes were so thick, and the fallen trees aniong
which the b(?ar strod were so numerous, that they could
not use their j>uns without running the risk of shootino-
their companion. Most of tluMu drew their knives and
seen)ed about to rush on the bear with tlicse ; but the
monster's aspect, as it glared around, was so terrible that
thev held back for a moment in hesitation.

At this moment Henri, who had l)een at some distance
engaged in the killing of one of the other bears, came
rushing fos-wjird after his own peculiar manner.

THE DOCJ rT{USOE.

2(w

>{\t

" All ! fjit is ect — hay <* do l)ai' no j^o iimU'r yit :* "

Just then his eye fell on thc^ wounded Trofjuois with
the bear ahove liiiii, and h<^ uttered a yell so intense in
tone that the hear himself seemed to fed that somc-
thino- decisive was ahout to be done at last. Henri
did not pause, but with a llyino- dush he spranj^ like a
spread eagl(\ arms and k'<;s extended, right into the
bear's bosom. At the same moment lio sent his lonn'
hunting-knife oown into its heart. Ihit ih'uin is ])i-o-
verl)ially hard in kill, and aUhough mortally wounded,
he ha'l strength enough to open his jaws and close them
on Heiii'i's neek.

There was a crv of horror, and at the same moment
a Nolh'y Avas fired at the bear's head ; for the trappers
felt that it was better to risk shooting tlieii' comrades
than see them killed befon^ their eyes. Fortunate! \'
the bullets took etlect, and tinnbled him over at once
M'ithout doing damag(^ to either of the men, although
several of tlu^ balls just grazed Henri's temple and
carried off his cap.

Although uninjured by the shot, the poor Iroipiois
iiad not escaped scathless from the paw of the bear.
His seal)) was torn almost off, and hung down o\'er liis
e^^es, A\hil(^ blood streamed down his face. H(^ was
conveyed hy his conn'ades to tlu; camp, whei"e he lay
two (lavs in a, statt^ of inseiisil)ilitv% at the end of which
time he re\i»'ed and rc^coviTcd dailv. Afterwards wlu'n
the camp moved he had to In^ carried ; but in the com"se
of two months he was as well as ever, and quite as fond
of boar-hunting !

Among otlier trophi«'s of this hunt \hoYo. wore two

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THE DOG CRUSOE.

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ii ' '

^iS!

deer and a buffalo, which last had probably strayed from
the herd. Four or five Iroquois were round this animal
whetting- their knives for the purpose of cutting it up
when Henri passed, so he turned aside to watcli them
perform the operation, quite regardless of the fact that
his neck and face were covered with blood which flowed
from one or two small punctures made by the bear.

The Indians began by taking off the skin, which
certainly did not occupy them more than five minutes.
Then they cut up the meat and made a pack of it, and
cut out the tongue, which is somewhat troublesome, as
that member requires to be cut out from under the jaw
of the animal, and not through the natural opening of
the mouth. One of the fore legs was cut off at the
knee joint, and tliis was used as a liammer v.it]\ \'hich
to break the skull for the purpose of fnking out the
brains, these being used in the process of di'cssing and
softening the animal's skin. An axe would liave been
of advantage to break the skull, l)ut in tlie hurry of
rushing to the attack tlio Indians liad for<,a)tton their
axes ; so they adopted tlie common fashion of using tlie
buffalo's hoof as a hammer, the shank being tlie liandle.
The whole operation of flaying, cutting up, and packing
tlie meat did not occiqiy more than twenty minutes.
Before leaving the ground these expert butchers treated
themselves to a little of the marrow and warm liver in
a raw state !

Cameron and Joe walked up to the group while they
were indulging in this little feast.

"Well, I've ofton seen that eaten, but I never could
do it myself,' i-(;mari;ed the former.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

269

"No!" cried Joe in .surprise; "now that's oncominon
cur'us. I've lived on raw liver an' marrow-bones for
two or three days at a time, wdien we wos chased by the
Camanchee Injuns an' didn't dare to make a tire ; an' it's
ra'al good, it is. Won't ye try it noio? "

Cameron shook his head.

" No, thankee ; I'll not refuse when I can't help it,
but until then I'll remain in happy ignorance of how
good it is."

" Well, it is strange how some folk can't abide any-
thing in the meat way they ha'n't bin used to. D'ye
know I've actually knowed men from the cities as
wouldn't eat a bit o' horseflesh for love or money.
Would ye believe it ? "

" I can well believe that, Joe, for I have met with
such persons myself ; in fact, they are rather numerous.
What are you chuckling at, Joe ? "

" Clmcklin' ? If ye mean be that ' larfln in to myself,'
it's because I'm thinkin' o' a chap as once comed out to
the prairies."

" Let us walk back to the camp, Joe, and you can
tell me about him as we go along."

" I think," continued Joe, " he comed from Washing-
ton, but I never could make out right whether he wos
a Government man or not. Anyhow, he wos a pheeloso-
pher — a natter-list I tlwnk he call his-self — "

" A naturalist," suggested Cameron.

'' Ay, tliat wos more like it. Well, he wos about six
feet two in his moccasins, an' as thin as a ranu'od, an' as
blind as a bat — leastways he had wvak eyes an' wore
green spectacles. He had on a gray shootin' coat an'

270

THE D0C4 CRUSOE.

!'''

! ;

trousers an' vest an' cap, with rid whiskers an' a long
nose as rid at the point as the whiskers wos.

'* Well, this gentleman engaged nie an' another hunter
to go a trip with him into the prairies, so ofi' we sot one
line day on three hosses, with our blankets at our backs
— we wos to depend on tlie ritie for victuals. At first I
thouixht the natter-list one o' the cruellest bci'-oars as
iver went on two Ions: le^'s, for he used to i>'o about
everywhere pokin' pins through all the beetles an' flies
an' creepin' things he could sot eyes on, an' stuck them
in a box. But he told me he comed here a-i)urpose to
git as many o' them as he could ; so says I, ' If that's it,
I'll fill yer box in no time.'

'•' ' Will ye ? ' says he, quite pleased like.

" ' I will,' says I, an' gallope<l off' to a place as was
filled w'' all sorts o' crawlin' things. So I sets to work,
an' whenever I seed a thing crawlin' I sot my fut on it
an' crushed it, an' soon filled my br<'ast pocket, I
cotched a lot o' butterflies too, an' stuffed them into my
shot-pouch, an' went back in an hour or two an' showed
him the lot. He put on his green spectacles an' looked
at tlicm as if he'd seen a rattlesnake.

" ' My good man,' saj's he, ' you've cruslied them all
to pieces ! '

" ' They'll taste as good for all that,' says I ; for
somehow I'd taken't in me head that he'd heard o' the
way the Injuns make soup o' the grasshoppers, an' wos
wantin' to try his hand at a new dish !

" He lauo'lied when I said tliis, an' told i le he wos
collectin' them to take home to be lool'cd at. But that's
not wot I was goin' to tell ye about him," continued

all

■OS

t's

THE DOG CRUSOE.

271

Joe ; " I wos goin' to tell ye how we made him cat
horseflesh. He carried a revolver, too, this iiatter-list
did, to load wi' shot as small as dust a'most, a)i' shoot
little birds with. I've seed him miss birds only three
feet away with it. An' one day he drew it all of a
suddent an' let fly at a big bvnn-bee that wos passin',
yellin' out that it wos the finest wot he had iver seed.
He missed the bee, of coorse, 'cause it wos a flyin' shot,
he said, but he sent the whole charge right into Martin's
back — Martin was my comrade's name. By good luck
Martin had on a thick leather coat, so the shot niver
o'ot the lenoth o' his skin.

" One day I noticed that the natter-list had stufled
small corks into the muzzles of all the six barrels of his
revolver. I w^ondcred what they wos for, but he wos
al'ays doin' sich queer things that I soon forgot it.
' Maybe,' thought I, jist before it went out o' my mind
— ' maybe he thinks that'll stop the pistol from goin'
ofl' by accident ; ' for ye must know he'd let it ofl' tiu'ee
times the first day by accident, an' well-nigh blowod
oft' his leo' the last time, onlv the shot lodged in the
back o' a big toad he'd jist stufled into his breeches
pocket. Well, soon after we shot a bull'alo bull, so
when it fell, ofl' he jumps from his horso an' runs up to
it. So did I, for I wasn't sure the beast was dead,
an' I had jist got up when it rose an' tuhIkmI at the
natter- list.

" * Out o' the way,' I yelled, for my rifle was empty ;
but he didn't move, so I ruslxwl foi-'ard an' drew tlie
pistol out o' liis belt and let fly in the bull's ribs jist
as it ran the poor man down. Martin came up that

nri

I:'

t\t

;1|
1:1

i ■

272

THE DOG CRUSOE.

moment an' put a ball througli its heart, an' then we
went to pick up the natter-list. He came to in a
little, an' the first thing he said was, ' Where's my revol-
ver ? ' When I gave it to him he looked at it, an' said
with a solemcholy shake o' the head, ' There's a whole
barrel-full lost ! ' It turned out that he had taken to
usin' the barrels for bottles to hold things in, but he
forn-ot to draw the charc^es, so sure enouQ'h I had fired
a charge o' bum-bees an' beetles an' small shot into
the buffalo !

" But that's not what I wos goin' to tell ye yit. We
corned to a part o' the plains where we wos well-nigh
starved for want o' game, an' the natter-list got so
thin that ye could a'most see through him, so I offered
to kill my horse, an' cut it up for meat ; but you niver
saw sich a face he made. ' I'd rather die first,' says he,
' than eat it ; ' so we didn't kill it. But that very day
Martin jj^ot a shot at a wild horse an' killed it. The
natter-list was down in the bed o' a creek at the time
gropin' for creepers, an' he didn't see it.

" ' He'll niver eat it,' says Martin.

" ' That's trie,' says I.

' ' Let's tell him it's a buft'alo,' savs he.

" ' That would be tellin' a lie,' says I.

" So we stood lookin' at each other, not knowin' what
to do.

" ' I'll tell ye what,' cries Martin ; * we'll cut it up,
and take the meat into camp an' cook it without sayln'
a luorcL'

" ' Done,' says T, ' tliat's it ; ' for ye must know the
poor critter wos no judge o' meat. He couldn't tell

THE DOG CRUSOE.

273

cae kind from another, an' lie niver axed questions.
In fact he niver a'most spoke to us all the trip. Well,
we cut up the horse, an' carried the flesh an' marrow-
bones into camp, takin' care to leave the hoofs an' skin
behind, an' sot to work an' roasted steaks an' marrow-
bones.

" When the natter-list came back ye should ha' seen
the joyful face he put on when he smelt the grub, for
he was all but starved out, poor critter.

" ' What have we got here ? ' cried he, rubbin' his
hands an' sittin' down.

" * Steaks an' marrow-bones,' saj^s Martin.
" ' Capital ! ' says he. ' I'm so hungiy.'
" So he fell to work like a wolf. I niver seed a man
pitch into anything like as that natter-list did into that
horseflesh.

" ' These are first-rate marrow-bones,' says he, squintin'
with one eye down the shin-bone o' the hind log to see if
it was quite empty.

" * Yes, sir, they is, 'answered Martin, as grave as a judge.
" * Take another, sir,' says I.

" ' No, thankee,' says he with a sigh, for he didn't
like to leave ofl!

" Well, we lived for a week on horseflesh, an' first-
rate livin' it wos ; then we fell in with buflalo, an' niver
ran short again till we got to the settlements, when
he paid us our money an' shook hands, sayin' we'd had
a nice trip, an' lie wished us well. Jist as we wos
partin' I said, says I, ' D'ye know what it wos wo live<l
on for a week arter we wos well-nigh starved in the
prairies ? '

I :;

f IM

274

THE DOG CRUSOE.

Jih

i ■•

" ' What/ says he, * when we got yon capital marrow-
bones ? '

" * The same/ says I. ' Yon wos horseResh,' says I ;
' an' I think ye'll surely niver say again that it isn't
first-rate livin'.'

" ' Ye're jokin'/ says he, turnin' pale.

" ' It's true, sir ; as true as ye're stand'n' there.'

" Well, would ye believe it, he turned — that natter-
list did — as sick as a dog on the spot wot he wos
standin' on, an' didn't taste meat again for three days ! "

Shortly after the conclusion of Joe's story they
reached the camp, and here they found the women and
children Hying about in a state of terror, and the few
men who had been left in charo^e arminq; themselves in
the greatest haste.

" Hallo ! sometluiig wrong here/' cried Cameron,
hastening forward, followed by Joe. " What has hap-
pened, eh ? ''

" Injuns comin', monsieur ; look dere/' answered a
trapper, pointing dowi the valley.

" Arm and mount at once, and come to the front of
the camp," cried Cameron in a tone of voice that silenced
every other, and turned confusion into order.

The cause of all this outcry was a cloud of dust seen
far down the valley, which was raised by a band of
mounted Indians who approached the camp at full
speed. Their numbers could not be made out, but they
were a sufficiently formidable band to cause much
anxiety to Cameron, whose men, at the time, were
scattered to the various trapping-grounds, and only ten
chanced to bo within call of the camp. However, with

LITOW-

lys I ;
t isn't

THE DOG CRUSOE.

275

natter-
10 wos
clays ! "
f they
en and
ihe few
elves in

imeron,
IS hap-

rcred a

[ront of
tilenced

1st seen

land of

it full

it they

much

were

^ly ten

;, with

these ten lie determined to show a hold front to tlie
savages, whether they came as friends or foes. He
therefore ordered tlie women and cliildren within the
citadel formed of the goods and packs of furs piled
upon each otlier which point of retreat was to be de-
fended to the last extremity. Then galloping to the
front he collected liis men and swept down the valley at
full speed. In a few minutes they were near enough to
observe thr . the enemy only numbered four Indians,
who were drivino; a band of about a hundred Jiorses
before them, and so busy were they in keeping the
troop together that Cameron and his men were close
upon them before they were observed.

Ic was too late to escape. Joe Blunt and Henri had
already swept round and cut off their retreat. In tliis
extremity the Indians slipped from the backs of their
steeds and darted into the bushes, where they were
safe from pursuit, at least on horseback, wliile the
trappers got behind the horses and drove them towards
the camp.

At this moment one of the horses sprang ahead of
the others and made for the mountain, with its mane
and tail flying wildly in the breeze.

" Marrow-bones and buttons ! " shouted one of the
men, " tliere goes Dick Varley's horse."

" So it am !" cried Henri, and dashed oil' in pursuit,
followed by Joe and two others.

" Why, these are our own horses," said Cameron in
surprise, as they drove them into a corner of the hills
from Y Inch they could not escape.

This was true, but it was only half the truth, for,

276

THE DOG CRUSOE.

"•

besides their own horses, they had secured upwards of
seventy Indian steeds ; a most acceptable addition to
their stud, which, owing to casualties and w^olves, had
been diniinishinc: too much of late. The fact was that
the Indians wdio had captured the horses belonging to
Pierre and his party were a small band of robbers who
had travelled, as was afterwards learned, a considerable
distance from the south, stealing horses from various
tribes as they went along. As we have seen, in an evil
hour they fell in with Pierre's party and carried off
their steeds, which they drove to a pass leading from
one valley to the other. Here they united them with
the main band of their ill-gotten gains, and while the
greater number of the robbers descended farther into
the plains in search of more booty, four of them w^ere
sent into the mountains wdth the horses already pro-
cured. These four, utterly ignorant of the presence of
white men in the valley, drove their charge, as we have
seen, almost into the camp.

Cameron immediately organized a party to go out in
search of Pierre and his companions, about whose fate
he became intensely anxious, and in the course of half-
an-hour as many men as he could spare with safety were
despatched in the direction of the Blue Mountains.

rcls of
ion to
3S, had
IS that
ing to
rs who
lerablc
various
an evil
ied off
^ from
m with
lile the
cr into
m were
ly pro-
;nce of
e have

out in
Ise fate
If half-
ly were

CHAPTER XXII.

Charlie's adventures with savayes and bears — Trappinr/ hfr,

IT is one thing to chase a horse ; it is another thing
to catch it. Little consideration and less sagacity
are required to convince us of the truth of that fact.

The reader may perhaps venture to think this rather
a trilling fact. We are not so sure of that. In this
world of fancies, to have any fact incontestably proved
and established is a comfort, and whatever is a source
of comfort to mankind is worthy of notice. Surely our
reader won't deny that ! Perhaps he will, so we can
only console ourself with the remark that there are
people in this world who would deny avythhig — who
would deny that there was a nose on their face if you
said there was !

Well, to return to the point, which was the chase of
a horse in the abstract ; from which we will rapidly
diverge to the chase of Dick Varley's horse in particular.
This noble charger, having been ridden by savages until
all his old fire and blood and mettle were worked up
to a red heat, no sooner discovered that he was pur-
sued than he gave a snort of defiance, which he accom-
panied with a frantic shake of his mane and a fling

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278

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ii , '1

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of contempt in addition to a mayniticent wave of
his tail. Then he thundered up tlie valley at a pace
"Nvhich would speedily have left Joe IMunt and Henri
out of sight behind if -ay I that's the word, /// What
a word that if is ! what a world of //'.s we live in !
There never was anything that wouldn't have been
something else if something hadn't intervened to pre-
vent it ! Yes, we repeat Charlie would have left his
two friends miles and miles behind in what is called
" no tim(\" if he ha<l not run straight into a gorge
which was surrounded by inaccessible precipices, and
out of which therti was no exit except by the enti'ance,
which was immediately barred by Henri, while Joe
advanced to catch tlie run-away.

For two hours at least did Joe Blunt essay to catch
Charlie, and during that space of time ho utterly failed.
The Iiorse seemed to have made up his mind for what
is vulgarly termed " a lark."

" It won't do, Henri," said Joe, advancing towards
his companion, and wiping his forehead with the cuff
of his leathern coat ; " I can't catch him. The wind's
a'most blowed out o' me body."

"l)at am vexatiable," replied Henri, in a tone of
commiseration. " H'pose I wos make try ?"

" \\\ that case I s'pos*; ye would fnil. \\\\i go ahead,
an' do what ye can. I'll liold yer horse."

So Henri began by a rush and a flourisli of legs and
arms that nearly frightened the horse out of his wits.
For half-an-hour h(» went through all the complications
of running and twisting of which lie was capable, with-
out success, when Joe Blunt suddenly uttered a sten-

THE DOC CRUSOE.

270

torian yell that rooted him to the spot on which he
stood.

To account for tliis, wo nnist explain that in the
h(ii;hts of the Rocky Mountains vast accunnilations of
snow take place anion;;' the crevices and ^or^es durini^
winter. Such of these masses as form on steep slopes
are loosened by occasional thaws, Jind arc precipitated
in the form of avalanches into the valleys lielow, car-
ryiuL^ trees and stones aloni; with them in their thun-
dei-injjf descent. In the nloomv wru'e where Dick's
horse had taken refujCfe the precipices were so steep that
many avalanches had occurred, as was evident from the
mounds of heaped snow that lay at the foot of most of
them. Neither stones nor trees were carried down hero,
however, for the cliffs were nearly perpendicular, and
the snow slipping* over their edges had fallen on the
orass below. Such an avalanche was now about to take
place, and it was this that caused .b)e to utter his cry
of alarm and warning.

Henri and the horse were directly under the cl iff over
which it was about to be hurled, the latter close to the
wall of rock, the other at some distance away from it.

Joe crietl again, " I'lack, Henri! back rile!" when
the mass jlovifd over and f(^ll with a roar like prolonged
thunder. Henri sprang back in time to save liis life,
though ho was knocked down and almost stunned ; but
])oor Charlie was completely buried under the avalanche,
which now presented the appearance of a hiU of snow.

The instant Henri recovenvl suflicicntly, Joe and ho
mounted their horses an<l galloped back to the cam]) a.s
fast as possil>le.

■ III

■*!■''

2«()

TILE JK)G CRUSOE.

Meanwhile, anotlier spectator .steppe«l forward upon
tlie scene tliey ha<l left, and surveyed the snow hill
with a critical eye. This was no less than a grizzly
hear, which had, unohserved, been a spectator, and which
innnediately proceeded to dig into the mound, with the
])urpose, no doubt, of disentombing the carcass of the
horse for purposes of Ills own.

While he was thus actively engaged the two hunters
reacheil the camp, where they found that Pierre and his
party had just arrived. The men sent out in search of
them had scarcely advanced a mile when they found
them trudging back to the camp in a very disconsolate
manner. Jhit all their sorrows were put to tiight on
hearing of the curious way in which the horses had
been returned to them with interest.

Scarcely had Dick Varley, however, congratulated
himsi'lf on the recovery of his gallant steed, when he
was thrown into despair by the sudden arrival of Joe
with the tidings of the catastrophe we have just re-
lated.

Of course there was a general rush to the rescue.
Only a few men were ordered to remain to guard tlie
camp, while the remainder mounted their horses and
galloped towards the gorge where Charlie had been en-
tombed. On arriving, ^hcy found that Bruin liad
worked with such laudable zeal that nothing but the
tip of his tail was seen sticking out of the hole which
he had dug. The hunters could not refrain from
laughing as they sprang to tlie ground, and standing in
a semicircle in front of the hole, prepared to tire. But
Crusoe resolved to have the honour of leading the

I'll upon
low hill
rrriz/ly
<l ^vllich
with tho
s of the

hunters
! and his
search of
'y found
consolato
liisjfht on
rses had

ratulated

when he

of Joe

just rc-

rcscuc.
uard the

H'scs antl
icen en-
uin had
but the
e which

■in from
idinu' in
e.

THE DOi; ("RUSOE.

2S1

But

ling tho

assault. He seized fast hold of liruin's flank, and
caused his teeth to meet the.'ein. Caleb backed out
at once and turned round, b it before he could recover
from his surprise a dozen l»i diets pierced his licart and
brain.

"Now, lads," cried Cameron, setting- to woik with a
lai-fje wooden shovel, " W(jrk like niiiuers. If there's
any life left in the horse, it'll soon l)e smothered out
unless we set him fre<'."

The men needed no unjinLC, however. Thev worked
a., if their lives depended on their .exertions. ])ick
Varley, in particular, laboured like a young Hercules,
and Henri hurled ma.sses of snow about in a most sur-
prising maimer. Crusoe, too, entered heartily into the
spirit of the work, and, scraping with his forepaws,
.sent such a continucms shower of .snow behind him that
he was speedily lost to view in a h(>le of his own exca-
vatinii'. In the course of half-an-hour a cavern was
dug in the mound almost close up to the clifi* and the
men were beginning to look about for the crushed body
of Dick's steed, when an exclamation from Henri at-
tracted their attention.

" Ha ! mes ami, here am be one hole."

The truth of this could not be doubted, for tho
eccentric trapper ha<] thrust his shovel through the
wall of snow into what appeared to be a cavern buyond,
and immediately followed up his remark by thrusting
in his head and shoulders. He drew them out in a few
seconds, with a look of intense amazement.

" Voih\ I Joe Blunt Look in dere, and you shall see
fat you vill behold."

!'f

• 3

282

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Why. it's tlio horse, I do b'lieve ! " cried Joe. " Go
ahead, hids ! "

So saying', lie resumed his shovellinj;' viuforously, and
in a few minutes tlie hole was opened up sufficiently to
enahle a man to enter. Dick spraui,^ in, and tliere stood
Charlie close beside the cliff', lookinj^ as sedate and
unconcerned as if all that had been cfointr on had no
reference to him whatever.

The cause of his safet\' was simple enourrh. The
precipice beside which he stood when the avalanche
occurred ovei'huniif its base at that point considerably,
so that when the snow descended a clear space of
several feiit wide was left all aloni;" its base. Here
Charlie had remained in perfect comfort until his
friends dug him out.

Congratulating themselves not a little on having saved
the charger and bagged a grizzly bear, the trappers re-
mounted, and retui'ued to the camp.

For some time after this nothing worthy of particu-
lar note occurred. The trapping operations went on
prosperously and without intei'ruption from the Indians,
who sticmed to have left the locality altogether. J)uring
this period, ])ick, and Crusoe, and (Hiarlie had many
excursions together, and the silver rifle full many a time
sent death to th(^ heai't of bear, and elk, and buffalo;
while, indirectlv, it went jov to the heart of man,
woman, and child in camp, in the shape of juicy steaks
and marrow-bones. Joe and Henri devoted themselves
nlmost exclusively to trapjung beav(>r, in which pursuit
they were so successful that they s])eedily became
wealthy men, acconling to backwood notions of wealth.

THE D()(J CRUSOE.

283

!. " Go

sly, anfl
ciitly to
re stood
ate and
had no

li. The
valanche
idcraljlv,
space of
:\ llore
until his

ppors

saved

re-

pavticu-
Kvent on
Tntlians,
J )uving
id many
ly a time
huft'alo •,
I of man,
y steaks
em selves
pursuit
became
wealth.

With the ]>eaver that they cau<;ht they purchascil from
Cameron's store powdrr and sliot enou_i;h for a \o\v^
hunting expedition, and a couple of spare horses to
carry their packs. They also purchased a lar*;e assoi-t-
ment of such goods and triidvets as would prove accept-
able to Indians, and supplie<l themselves with new
blankets, and a few pairs of stronijj moccasins, of which
they stood much in need.

Thus they went on tVom day to day, until symptoms
of the appi'oach of winter warned them that it was time
to return to the Mustanfj Vallev. About this tiuu; an
event occurred which totally changed the aspect of
affairs in these remote valleys of the Kocky Mountains,
and precipitated the departure of our four friends, Dick,
Joe, Henri, and C'l'usoe. This was the sud<len arrival of
a whole tribe of Indians. As their advent was some-
what remarkable, wc shall devote to it the commence-
ment of a new chapter.

;i!i

> I

CHAPTER XXIII

'■■

Savaije sporlx — Liriiiri mtarapU — An ((/arm — Indxcns awl their dottujs —
TIk sfam/irdc — ('liarlic aijaiii,

ONE <1ay Dick Varloy was out on a solitary hunting
" expedition near the rocky gorge where his liorse
had received temporary burial a week or two before.
Crusoe was with him, of course. Dick had tied Charlie
to a tree, and was sunning himself on the aV^c of a clitt*
from the top of which he had a fine view of the valley
and the rugged precipices that hemmed it in.

Just in front of the spot on which he sat, the preci-
pices on the opposite side of the gorge rose to a consider-
able hei;^ht above him, so that their raij2re<l outlines were
drawn sharply across the clear sky. Dick was gazing
in dreamy silence at the jutting rocks and dark caverns,
and speculating on the probable number of bears that
dwelt there, when a slight degree of restlessness on the
part of Crusoe attracted him.

" What is't, pup ? " said he, laying his hand on the
dog's broad back.

Crusoe looked the answer, " I don't know, Dick, but
it's something, you may depend upon it, else I would
not have disturbed you."

Dick lifted his rifle from the ground, and laid it in
the hollow of his left arm.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

28.5

' llolllllK —

• liunting
his horse

before.

1 Charlie
of a cliff,
lie valley

he preei-

consider-

nes were

,s gazing

caverns,

ars that

s on the

on the

iek, but
would

lid it in

" There must be something in the wind," remarkod Dick.

As wind is known to be composed of two distinct
ga.ses, Crusoe felt perfectly safe in replying " W's " with
his tail. Immediately after he added. " Hallo ! did you
hear that ? " with his ears.

Dick did hear it, and sprang hastily to his feet, ns
a sound like, yet luilike, distant thunder came faintly
down upon the breeze. In a few seconds the soun<l
increased to a roar in which was mingled the wild cries
of men. Neither Dick nor Crusoe moved, for the
sounds came from behind the heights in front of them,
and they felt that the only way to solve the question,
" What can the sounds be ? " was to wait till the sounds
should solve it themselves.

Suddenly the muffled sounds gave place to the dis-
tinct bellowing of cattle, the clatter of innumerable
hoofs, and the yells of savage men, while at the siime
moment the edges of the opposite cliffs became alive
with Indians and buffaloes rushing about in frantic
haste — the former almost mad with savage excitement,
the latter with blind rage .and terror.

On reaching the edge of the dizzy precipice, the
buffaloes turned abruptly and tossed their ponderous
heads as they coursed along the edge. Yet a few of
them, unable to check their headlong course, fell over,
and were dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Such
falls, Dick observed, were hailed with shouts of delight
by the Indians, whose sole object evidently was to
enjoy the sport of driving the terrified animals over the
precipice. The wily savages had chosen their ground
well for this purpose.

280

TITK DOG CRUSOE.

Tho cliff iiiiinodiati'ly opposite to Dick Varley was a
liui^o pr<jjection from the precipice tliat lienimcd in the
{^ori(c, a species of cape or promontory several liundred
yards wide at tlie base, and narrowing abruptly to a
point. The sides of this wedge-shaped projection were
quite perpendicular — indeed, in some places the top over-
Ining the base — and they were at least three liundred feet
high. Broken and jagged rocks, of that peculiarly
chaotic character which probably suggested the name to
this po,rt of the great American chain, projected from
and were scattere*! all round the clifls. Over these the
Indians, whose numbers increased every moment, strove
to drive the luckless herd of butl'aloes that had chanced
to fall in their way. The task was easy. The unsus-
pecting animals, of which there were hundreds, rushed
in a (! mass upon the cape referred to. On they

came witu irresistible impetuosity, bellowing furiously,
while their hoofs thundered on the turf with the muffled
continuous roar of a distant but mighty cataract ; the
Indians, meanwhile, urging them on by hideous yells and
frantic gestures.

The advance-guard came bounding madly to the edge
of the precipice. Here they stopped shoi't, and gazed
affrighted at the gulf below. It was but for a moment.
The irresistible momentum of the flying mass behind
pushed them over. Down they came, absolutely a living
cataract, upon the rocks below. Some struck on the
projecting rocks in the descent, and their bodies were
dashed almost in pieces, while their blood spurted out
in showers. Others leaped from rock to rock with
awful bounds, until, losing their foothold, they fell

y was a
\ in the
hundred
tly to a
ion were
top ovcr-
(Ired feet
leculiarly
name to
ted from
these the
nt, strove
1 chanced
he unsus-
Is, rushed
On they
furiously,
lO muffled
.ract ; the
yells and

the edge
Ind gazed
moment.
Hs behind
a living
on the
Iplies were
irted out
3ck with
they fell

Till-: j)0(; ( KUsoE.

2S7

headlong, while otlicrs dt'sc^nded sheer down into tlie
sweltering mass tliat lay sliattered at the base oi' the
clifis.

])ick Varlcy mikI his dog rcmaiiUMl rooted to the
rock, as they gazcfl at the sickening sight, as if petrifitMJ.
Scarce iifty of that noble litrd of butt'alocs escape<l the
awful leap, but they escaped only to fall licfore the
arrows of their ruthless ])ursuers. Diek had often
heard of this tendency of the Indians, where buflaloes
were very numerous, to drive them over precipices in
mere wanton sport and ci'uelty, but he- had never sei^n
it until now, and the siiiht filled his soul with horror.
It was not until the din and tumult of the Derishinijc
herd and the shrill yells of tlie Indians had almost died
away that he turned to cpiit the spot. Ijut the instant
he did so another shout was raised. The savages had
observed him, and were seen galloping along the cliffs
towards the head of the gorge, with the obvious inten-
tion of gaining the other side and capturing him. Dick
sprang on Charlie's back, and the next instant was Hy-
ing down the valley towards the camp.

He did not, however, fear being overtaken, for the
gorge could not be crossed, and the way round the head
of it was lonu; and ru!?!^ed ; but he was anxious to alarm
the camp as quickly as possible, so that they might
have time to call in the more distant trappers and make
preparations for defence.

" Where away now, youngster ^ " inquired Cameron,
emerging from his tent as Dick, taking the brook that
flowed in front at a flying leap, came crashing through
the bushes into the midst of the fur-packs at full speed.

'il

288

THE DOG CRUSOE.

'\: i

.:i

"Injuns!" ojaculnto*] Dick, reinini:,' np, and vaulting
out of the saddle. " Hundreds of 'em. Fiends incar-
nate every one ! "

" Are tliey near ? "

"Yes; an hour'U Itring tlicm down on us. Arc Joe
and Henri far from camp to-day ? "

" At Ten-mile Creek," replied Cameron with an ex-
pression of bitterness, as he caught up his gun antl
shouted to several men, who hurried up on seeing our
hero burst into camp.

" Ten-mile Creek ! " nnittered Dick. " I'll bring 'em
in, though," he continued, glancing at several of the
camp lior.'jes that grazed close at hand.

In another moment ho was on Charlie's back, the
line of one of the best horses was in his hand, and al-
most before Cameron knew what he was about he was
Hying down the valley like the wind. Charlie often
stretched out at full speed to please his young master,
but seldom had he been urged forward as he was upon
this occasion. The led horse being light and wild, kept
well up, and in a marvellously short space of time they
were at Ten-mile Creek.

" Hallo, Dick, wot's to do ? " inquired Joe Blunt, who
was up to his knees in the water setting a trap at the
moment his friend galloped up.

" Injuns ! Where's Henri ? " demanded Dick.

" At the head o' the dam there."

Dick was off in a moment, and almost instantly re-
turned with Henri galloping beside him.

No word was spoken. In time of action these men
did not waste words. Durinjx Dick's momentary

I I

Is incar-

Arc Joe

\ an ex-

TITK DOG CHUSOK.

2.S0

and

orun
ucing our

hrinp; 'eiu
x\ of the

back, the
Lcl, and al-
,ut he was
,rlie often
(f master,
was upon
|wild, kept
time they

Uunt, who
[■ap at the

^tantly re-

bhese men
liomentary

absence, Joe Bkmt haO caught up his rilh; and exam-
ined the priming, so that wlien ]Jick pulled up besidr
Iiini lit' merely laid his hand on the saddle, saying, "All
right!" as he vaulted on Charlie's back behind his
young companion. In anotlicr nK)ment they were away
at full speed. The mustang seemed to feel that un-
wonted exertions were required of him. ])<)uble
weighted though he was, he kept well up with the other
horse, and in less than two houi-s lifter Dick's leaving
the camp the three hunters came in sight of it.

Meanwhile Cameron had collected nearly all his
forces and put his camp in a state of defence before the
Indians arrived, which they did suddenly, and, as usual,
at full gallop, to the amount of at least two hundred.
They did not at first seem disposed to hold friendly
intercourse with the trappers, but assembled in a semi-
circle round the camp in a menacing attitude, while one
of their chiefs stepped forward to hold a palaver. For
some time the conversation on both sides was polite
enough, but by degrees the Indian chief assumed an
imperious tone, and demanded gifts from the trappers,
taking care to enforce his request by hinting that thou-
sands of his countrymen were not far distant. Cameron
stoutly refused, and the palaver threatened to come to
an abrupt and unpleasant termination just at the time
that Dick and his friends appeared on the scene of
action.

The brook M'as cleared at a bound ; the three hunters
leaped from their steeds and sprang to the front with
a degree of energy that had a visible effect on the
savages ; and Cameron, seizing the moment, proposed

290

THE DOG CRUSOE.

I']

I !>' : '

!J>'

that the two parties should smoke a pipe and hold a
council. The Indians ai^reed, and in a few minutes
they were engaged in animated and friendly intercourse.
The speeches were long, and the compliments paid on
either side were inflated, and, we fear, undeserved ; but
the result of the interview was, that Cameron made the
Indians a- present of tobacco and a few trinkets, and
sent them back to their friends to tell them that he
V\^as willino* to trade with them.

Next day the whole tribe arrived in the valley, and
pitched their deerskin tents on the plain opposite to
the camp of the white men. Their numbers far ex-
ceeded Cameron's expectation, and it was with some
anxiety that he proceeded to strengthen his fortifica-
tions as much as circumstances and the nature of the
ground would admit.

The Indian camp, which immbereel upwards of a
thousand souls, was arranged with great regularity, and
was divided into three distinct sections, each section
being composed of a separate tribe. The Great Snake
nation at that time embraced three tribes or divisions
— namely, the Shirry-dikas, or dog-eaters ; the War-
are-ree-kas, or fish-eaters ; and the Banattees, or rob-
bers. These were the most numerous and powerful
Indians on the west side of the Rocky Mountains. The
Shirry-dikas dwelt in the plains, and liunted the buffa-
loes ; dressed well ; were cleanly ; rich in horses ; bold,
independent, and good warriors. The War-are-ree-kas
lived chiefly by fishing, and were found on the banks
of the rivers and lakes throughout the country. They
were more corpulent, slovenly, and indolent than the

THE DOG CRUSOE.

201

1 hold a

minute.s
tcrcoursc.

paid oil
•ved ; but
made the
ikets, and
Li that he

valley, and
opposite to
rs far cx-
vvith some
s t'ortitica-
,ure of the

^avds of a
ilarity, and
Lch section
:eat Snake
}V divisions
the War-
|cs, or rob-
powerful
lains. The
the butta-
irses ; bold,
lare-ree-kas
the banks
^ry. They
than the

Shirry-dikas, and more peaceful. The Banattees, as
we have before mentioned, were the robbers of the
mountains. They were a wild and contemptible race,
and at enmity witli every one. In summer tliey went
about nearly naked. In winter they clothed them-
selves in the skins of rabbits and wolves. Beinij ex-
cellent mimics, they could imitate the howling of
wolves, the nei^hin;:; of horses, and the cries of birds, by
which means they could approach travellers, rob them,
and then fly to tlieir rocky fastnesses in the mountains,
where pursuit was vain.

Such were the men who now assembled in front of
the camp of the fur-traders, and Cameron soon found
that tlie news of his presence in the country had spread
far and wide among the natives, bringing them to the
neighbourhood of his camp in immense crowds, so that
during the next few days their numbers increased to
thousands.

Several long palavers quickly ensued between the
red men and the white, and the two great chiefs who
seemed to hold despotic rule over the assembled tribes
were extremely favourable to the idea of universal peace
which was propounded to them. In several set speeches
of great length and very considerable power, these
natural orators explained their willingness to enter into
amicable relations with all the surrounding nations, as
well as with the white men.

" But," said Pce-eye-em, the chief of the Shirry-dikas,
a man above six feet high, and of immense muscular
strength — " but my tribe cannot answer for the Ban-
attees, who are robbers, and cannot be punished, because

292

THE DOG CRUSOE.

i! ;l

n I

they dwell in scattered families among the mountains.
The Banattees are l)ad ; they cannot be trusted."

None of the Banattees were present at the council
when this was said ; and if thev had been it would have
mattered little, for they were neither fierce nor coura-
geous, although bold enough in their own haunts to
murder and rob the unwary.

The second chief did not quite agree with Pee-eye-
cm. He said that it was impossible for them to make
peace with their natural enemies, the Peigans and the
Blackfeet on the east side of the mountains. It was
very desirable, he admitted ; but neither of tliese tribes
would consent to it, he felt sure.

Upon this Joe Blunt rose and said, " The great chief
of the War-are-ree-kas is wise, and knows that enemies
cannot be reconciled unless deputies are sent to make
proposals of peace."

" The Pale-face does not know the Blackfeet," an-
swered the chief. " Who will go into the lands of the
Blackfeet ? My young men have been sent once and
again, and their scalps are now fringes to the leggings
of their enemies. The War-are-ree-kas do not cross the
mountains but for the purpose of making war."

" The chief speaks truth," returned Joe ; " yet there
are three men round the council fire who will go to the
Blackfeet and the Peigans with messages of peace from
the Snakes if they wish it."

Joe pointed to himself, Henri, and Dick as he spoke,
and added, " We thi*ee do not belong to the camp of the
fur-traders ; we only lodge with them for a time. The
Great Chief of the white men has sent us to make peace

THE DOG CRUSOE.

293

)untains.

3 council
uld have
)r coura-
launts to

Pee-eye-
to make

; and the
It was

lese tribes

Treat chief
it enemies
t to make

cfeet," an-

ids of the

once and

e leggings

cross the

yet there

o'o to the

leace from

he spoke,
Imp of the
]mc. The

lake peace

with the Red-men, and to tell them that he desires to
trade with them — to exchange hatchets, and guns, and
blankets for furs."

This declaration interested the two chiefs greatl}'', and
after a good deal of discussion they agreed to take ad-
vantage of Joe Blunts offer, and appoint him as a
deputy to the court of their enemies. Having arranged
these matters to their satisfaction, Cameron bestowed a
red flao; and a blue surtout with brass buttons on each
of the chiefs, and a variety of smaller articles on the
other members of the council, and sent them away in a
particularly amiable frame of mind.

Pee-eye-em burst the blue surtout at the shoulders
and elbows in putting it on, as it was much too small
for his gigantic frame ; but never having seen such an
article of apparel before, he either regarded this as the
natural and proper consequence of putting it on, or was
totally indifferent to it, for he merely looked at the
rents with a smile of satisfaction, while his squaw sur-
reptitiously cut off the two back buttons and thrust
them into her bosom.

By the time the council closed the night was far ad-
vanced, and a bright moon was shedding a flood of soft
light over the picturesque and busy scene.

" I'll go to the Injun camp," said Joe to Walter Cam-
eron, as the chiefs rose to depart. " The season's far
enough advanced already; it's time to be off"; and if
I'm to speak for the Redskins in the Blackfeet Council,
I'd need to know what to say."

" Please yourself. Master Blunt," answered Cameron.
" I like your company and that of your friends, and if

■ ■ I

.(■I

! 'I

I l<

204

THE DOG CRUSOE.

it suited you I would be glad to take you along with us
to the coast of the Pacific ; but your mission among the
Indians is a good one, and I'll help it on all I can. — I
suppose you will go also ? " he added, turning to Dick
Varley, who was still seated beside the council fire
caressing Crusoe.

" Wherever Joe goes, I go," answered Dick.

Crusoe's tail, ears, and eyes demonstrated high ap-
proval of the sentiment involved in this speech.

" Aud your friend Henri ? "

" He goes too," answered Joe. " It's as well that the
Redskins should see the three o' us before we start for
the east side o' the mountains. — Ho, Henri ! come here,
lad."

Henri obeyed, and in a few seconds the three friends
crossed the brook to the Indian camp, and were guided
to the principal lodge by Pee-eye-em. Here a great
council was held, and the proposed attempt at negotia-
tions for peace with their ancient enemies fully dis-
cussed. While they were thus engaged, and just as
Pee-eye-em had, in the energy of an enthusiastic pero-
I'ation, burst the blue surtout almost up to the collar, a
distant rushing sound was heard, which caused every
man to spring to his feet, run out of the tent, and seize
his weapons.

" What can it be, Joe ? " whispered Dick as they stood
at the tent door leaning on their rifles, and listening
intently.

" Dun'no'," answered Joe shortly.

Most of the numerous fires of the camp had gone out,
but the bright moon revealed the dusky forms of thou-

THE DOG CRUSOE.

295

with us

long the

can. — I

to Dick

ncil fire

high ap-

that the

start for

3me here,

eo frionda
pre guided
a great
ncffotia-
ullv dis-
just as
tic pero-
! collar, a
ed every
,nd seize

hey stood
listening

rone out,
I of thou-

sands of Indians, whom the unwonted sound had startled,
moving rapidly ahout.

The mystery was soon explained. The Indian camp
was pitched on an open plain of several miles in extent,
which took a sudden hend half-a-mile distant, where a
spur of the mountains shut out the farther end of the
valley from view. From beyond this point the dull
rumbling sound proceeded. Suddenly there was a roar
as if a mighty cataract had been let loose upon the
scene. At the same moment a countless herd of wild
horses came thundering round the base of the mountain
and swept over the plain straight towards the Indian
camp.

" A stampede ! " cried Joe, springing to the assistance
of Pee-eye-em, whose favourite horses were picketed
i\ear the tent.

On they came like a living torrent, and the thunder
of a thousand hoofs was soon mingled with the howling
of hundreds of dogs in the camp, and the yelling of
Indians, as they vainly endeavoured to restrain the
rising excitement of their steeds. Henri and Dick
stood rooted to the ground, gazing in silent wonder at
the fierce and uncontrollable gallop of the thousands of
panic-stricken horses that bore down upon the camp
witli the tumultuous violence of a mighty cataract.

As the maddened troop drew nigh, the camp horses
began to snort and tremble violently, and when the
rush of the wild steeds was almost upon them, they
became ungovernable with terror, broke their halters
and hobbles, and dashed wildly about. To add to the
confusion at that moment, a cloud passed over the moon

^Wi

296

THE DOG CRUSOE.

I I'

1 1

and threw the wliole scene into deep obscurity. Blind
with terror, which was probably increased by the din
of their own mad flight, the galloping troop came on,
and with a sound like the continuous roar of thunder
that for an instant drowned the yell of dog and man
they burst upon the camp, trampling over packs and
skins, and dried meat, etc., in their headlong speed, and
overturning several of the smaller tents. In another
moment they swept )ut upon the plain beyond, and
were soon lost in the darkness of the night, while the
yelping of dogs, as they vainly pursued them, mingled
and gradually died away with the distant thunder of
their retreat.

This was a stmni^ede, one of the most extraordinary
scenes that can be witnessed in the western wilderness.

** Lend a hand, Henri," shouted Joe, who was strug-
gling with a powerful horse. " Wot's comed over yer
brains, man ? This brute '11 git oft' if you don't look
sharp."

Dick and Henri both answered to the summons, and
they succeeded in throwing the struggling animal on its
side and holding it down until its excitement was some-
what abated. Pee-eye-em had also been successful in
securing his favouiite hunter ; but nearly every other
horse oelonging to the camp had broken loose and joined
the whirlwind gallop. But they gradually dropped out,
and before morning the most of them were secured by
their owners. As there were at least two thousand
horses and an equal number of dogs in the part of the
Indian camp which had been thus overrun by the wild
mustangs, the turmoil, as may be imagined, was prodi-

THK DOG CRUSOE.

297

gious

Yet, strange to .say, no accident of a serious
nature occurred beyond the loss of several chargers.

In the midst of this excitini; scene there was one
heart which beat with a nervous vehemence that well-
nigh burst it. This was the heart of ])ick Varley's
horse, Charlie. Well known to him was that distant
rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the
fur-traders' camp, where he was picketed close to
Cameron's tent. Many a time had he heard the ap-
proach of such a wild troop, and often, in days not long-
gone by, ha 1 his shrill neigh rung out as he joined and
led the panic-stricken band. He was first to hear the
sound, and by his restive actions to draw the attention
of the fur-traders to it. As a precautionary measure
they all sprang up and stood by their horses to soothe
them, but as a brook with a belt of bushes and quarter
of a mile of plain intervened between their camp and
the mustangs as they flew past, they had little or no
trouble in restraining them. Not so, however, with
Charlie. At the very moment that his master was con-
gratulating himself on the supposed security of his posi-
tion, he wrenched the halter from the hand of him who
held it, burst through the barrier of felled trees that
had been thrown round the camp, cleared the Ijrook at
a bound, and with a wild hilarious neigh resumed his
old place in the ranks of the free-born mustangs of the
prairie.

Little did Dick think, when the flood of horses swept
past him, that his own good steed was there, rejoicing
in his recovered liberty. But Crusoe knew it. Ay,
the wind had borne down the information to his acute

. i"

■1

ll!i 1

>
! h'

^1^

™

' %

!■'!

JUi

(1 i

298

THE DOG CRUSOE.

noso l)cfo''c the livin|[^ storm burst upon the camp ; and
wlicn Cliarlio rushed past, with the long tough halter
trailing at his heels, Crusoe sprang to his side, seized
the end of the halter with his teeth, and galloped oft'
along with him.

It was a long gallop and a tough one, but Crusoe held
on, for it was a settled principle in his mind never to
give in. At first the check upon Charlie's speed was
imperceptible, but by degrees the weight of the gigantic
dog began to tell, and after a time they fell a little to
tlie rear ; then by good fortune the troop passed through
a mass of underwood, and the line getting entangled
brought their mad career forcibly to a close ; the mus-
tangs passed on, and the two friends were left to keep
each other company in the dark.

How long they would have remained thus is uncer-
tain, for neither of them had sagacity enough to undo a
complicated entanglement. Fortunately, however, in his
energetic tugs at the line, Crusoe's sharp teeth partially
severed it, and a sudden start on the part of Charlie
caused it to part. Before he could escape, Crusoe again
seized the end of it, and led him slowly but steadily
back to the Indian camp, never halting or turning aside
until he had placed the line in Dick Varley's hand.

" Hallo, pup ! where have ye bin ? How did ye bring
him here ? " exclaimed Dick, as he gazed in amazement
at his foam-covered horse.

Crusoe wagged his tail, as if to say, " Be thankful
that you've got him, Dick, my boy, and don't ask ques-
tions that you know I can't answer."

" He must ha' broke loose and jincd the stampede,"

THE DOG CRUSOE. 29!)

!amp ; and

remarked Joe, coining out of the chiefs tent at the

iLfli halter

moment ; " but tie him up, Dick, and come in, fen- we

>i(le, seized

want to settle ahout startin' to-morrow or nixt day."

alloped off

Having fastened Charlie to a stake, and ordered

Crusoe to watch him, Dick re-entered the tent where

.^rusoe held

the council had reassembled, and where Pee-eye-em —

d never to

having, in the recent struggle, split the blue surtout

speed was

completely up to the collar, so that his backbone was

le gigantic

visible throughout the greater part of its length — was

a little to

holding forth in eloquent strains on the subject of peace

)d through

in general and peace with the Blackfect, the ancient

entangled

enemies of the Shirry-dikas, in particular.

; the mus-

tt to keep

s is uncer-

■

to undo a

ver, in his

I partially

)f Charlie

isoe again

t steadily

ling aside

and.

yo bring
nazement

n thankful
|,sk ques-

impede,"

^'1

1 1

!i::,

CHAPTER XXIV.

Plans and pmxpccts — Dirk becomes homesick, and Henri metaphysical —
The Indians attack the camp — A hlow-up.

ON the following clay the Indians gave themselves
up to unlimited feasting, in consequence of the
arrival of a large body of hunters with an immense
supply of buffalo meat. It was a regular day of rejoic-
ing. Upwards of six hundred buffaloes had been killed,
and as the supply of meat before theii* arrival had been
ample, the camp was now overflowing with plenty.
Feasts were given by the chiefs, and the medicine men
went about the camp uttering loud cries, which were
meant to express gratitude to the Great Spirit for the
bountiful supply of food. They also carried a portion
of meat to the aijed and infirm who were unable to hunt
for themselves, and had no young men in their family
circle to hunt for them.

This arrival of the hunters was a fortunate circum-
stance, as it put the Indians in great good-humour, and
inclined them to hold friendly intercourse with the
trappers, M'^ho for some time continued to drive a brisk
trade in furs. Having no market for the disposal of
their furs, the Indians of course had more than they
knew what to do with, and were therefore glad to ex-
change those of the most beautiful and valuable kind

TTIE DOG CRUSOE.

:^l

metaphysical —

for a mere trifle, so that the trappers laid aside their
traps for a time and devoted themselves to traflic.

Meanwhile Joe Blunt and his friends made prepara-
tions for their return journey.

" Ye see," remarked Joe to Henri and Dick, as they
sat beside the fire in Pee-eye-em's lodge, and feasted on
a potful of grasshopper soup, which the great chief's
squaw had just placed before them — " ye see, my cal-
c'lations is as follows. Wot with trappin' Ijeavei's and
huntin', we three ha' made enough to sot us up, an it
likes us, in the Mustang Valley — "

" Ha ! " interrupted Dick, remitting for a few seconds
the use of his teeth in order to exercise his tongue —
" ha ! Joe, but it don't like me ! What, give up a
hunter's life and become a farmer? I should think not!"

" Bon ! " ejaculated Henri, but whether the remark
had reference to the grasshopper soup or the sentiment
we cannot tell.

" Well," continued Joe, commencing to devour a large
buffalo steak with a hunter's appetite, " ye'll please your-
selves, lads, as to that ; but as I wos sayin', we've got a
powerful lot o' furs, an' a big pack o' odds and ends for
the Injuns we chance to meet with by the way, an'
powder and lead to last us a twelvemonth, besides five
good horses to carry us an' our packs over the plains ;
so if it's agreeable to you, I mean to make a bee-line for
the Mustang Valley. We're pretty sure to meet with
Blackfeet on the way, and if w^e do we'll try to make
peace between them an' the Snakes. I 'xpect it'll be
pretty well on for six weeks afore we git to home, so
we'll start to-morrow."

m ir

) ill!

II;

'iii'

t !

! I

302

THE DOG CRUSOE.

" Dat is fat vill do ver' veil," said Henri ; " vill you
please donnez me one petit morsel of steak."

" I'm ready for anything, Joe," cried Dick ; " you are
leader. Just point the way, and I'll answer for two o'
us followin' ye — eh ! w^on't we, Crusoe ? "

" We will," remarked the dog quietly.

" How comes it," inquired Dick, " that these Indians
don't care for our tobacco ? "

" They like their own better, I s'pose," answered Joe ;
" most all the western Injuns do. They make it o' the
dried leaves o' the shumack and the inner bark o' the
red-willow, chopped very small an' mixed together.
They call this stuff hiiinekmnik ; but they like to mix
about a fourth o' our tobacco with it, so Pee-eye-em tells
me, an' he's a good judge. The amount that red-skinned
mortal smokes is oncommon."

" What are they doin' yonder ? " inquired Dick, point-
ing to a group of men who had been feasting for some
time past in front of a tent within sight of our trio.

" Goin' to sing, I think," replied Joe.

As he spoke six young warriors were seen to work
their bodies about in a very remarkable way, and give
utterance to still more remarkable sounds, which grad-
ually increased until the singers burst out into that
terrific yell, or war-whoop, for which American savages
have long been famous. Its effect would have been ap-
palling to unaccustomed ears. Then they allowed their
voices to die away in soft, plaintive tones, while their
action corresponded thereto. Suddenly the furious style
was revived, and the men wrought themselves into a
condition little short of madness, while their yells rang

THE DOG CULSUE.

sas

liese Indians

It into that

wildly through tliu camp. 'Jliis was too uiucli fur or-
dinary canine nature to withstand, so all the dogs in the
neighbourhood joined in the hoirible chorus.

Crusoe had long since learned to treat the eccentriei-
ties of Indians and their curs with dignilied contempt.
He paid no attention to this serenade, hut lay sleeping
by the fire until Dick and his companions rose to take
leave of their host and return to the camp of the fur-
traders. The remainder of that night was spent in
making preparations for setting forth on the morrow;
and when, at gray dawn, ]Jick an<l Crusoe lay down
to snatch a few hours' repose, the yells and howling
in the Snake camp were going on as vigorously as
ever.

The sun had arisen, and his beams were just tipping
the sunnnits of the Ilocky iVIountains, causing the snowy
peaks to glitter like flame, and the deep ravines and
gorges to look sombre and mysterious by contrast, when
Dick and Joe and Henri mounted their gallant steeds,
and, with Crusoe gand)olling before, and the two pack-
horses trotting by their side, turned their faces eastward,
and bade adieu to the Indian camp.

Crusoe was in great spirits. He was perfectly well
aware that he and his companions were on their way
home, and testified his satisfaction by bursts of scamper-
ing over the hills and valleys. Doubtless he thought of
Dick Varley's cottage, and of Dick's mild, kind-hearted
mother. Undoubtedly, too, he thought of his own
mother, Fan, and felt a glow of filial affection as he did
so. Of this we feel quite certain. He would have been
unworthy the title of hero if he hadn't. Perchance he

i" :i'

304

THE DOG CRUSOE.

! i

! Mif

,iI:M

tliuught of Gruinps, bat of tliis we are not quite so sure.
We rather thiiik, upon tlie wliole, tlmt lie did.

Dick, too, let his tlioughts run away in the direction
of home. Sweet word ! Those who have never left it
cannot, by any effort of imagination, realize the full im-
port of the word " home." Dick was a bokl hunter ; but
he was young, and this was his first long expedition.
Oftentimes, when sleeping under the trees and gazing
dreamily up through the branches at the stars, had he
thought of home, until his longing heart began to yearn
to return. He repelled such tender feelings, liowever,
when they became too strong, deeming them unmanly,
and sought tc burn his mind to the excitements of the
chase ; but latterly his efforts were in vain. He became
thoroughly home-s'ck, and v/hile achnitting the fact to
himself, he endeavoured to conceal it from his comrades.
He thought that he was successful in this attempt. Poor
Dick Varley ! as yet he w\as sadly ignorant of human
nature. Henri knew it, and Joe Blunt knew it. Even
Crusoe knew that souiethino- was wrong; with his master,
although he could not exactly make out what it was.
But Crusoe made memoranda in the note-book of his
memory. He jotted down the peculiar phases of his
master's new disease with the care and minute exactness
of a physician, and, we doubt not, ultimately added the
knowledge of V^e symptoms of h(;me-sickness to his
already well-filled stores of erudition.

It was not till they had set out on their homeward
journey that ])ick Varley's spirits revived, and it was
not till they reachecl the beautiful prairies on the eastern
slopes of the Rocky Mountains, and galloped over the

te so sure.

e cliroctiou
ver left it
he full im-
unter ; but
expedition,
and gazing
ars, had he
m to yearn
rs, however,
n unmanly,
ents of the
He became
the fart to
^is comrades.
,empt. Poor
of human
^v it. Even
his master,
hat it was.
)Ook of his
ases of his
Ite exactness
added the
ess to his

homeward
land it was

the eastern
Id over the

THE DOG CRUSOE.

greensward towards tlic jNIustang Valley, tliat Dick
ventured to tell Joe Blunt what his feelings had been.

" D'ye know, Joe," he said confidentially, reining up
his gallant steed after a sharp gallop — " d'ye know I've
bin feelin' awful low for some time past."

" I know it, lad," answered Joe, with a quiet smile, in
which there was a dash of something that implied he
knew more than he chose to express.

Dick felt surprised, but he continued, " I wonder what
it could have bin. I never felt so before,"

" 'Twas home-sickness, boy," returned Joe.

" How d'ye know that ? "

" The same way as how I know most things — by
experience an' obsarvation. I've bin home-sick myself
once, but it was long, long agone."

Dick felt nuich relieved at this candid confession by
such a bronzed veteran, and, the chords of sympathy
having been struck, he opened up his heart at once, to
the evident delight of Henri, who, among other curious
partialities, was extremely fond of listening to and taking
part in conversations that bordered on the metaphysicnl,
and were hard to be understood. Most conversations
that were not connected with eating and hunting were
of this nature to Henri.

" Hom'-sik," he cried, " veceh mean bein' sik of horn' !
Hah ! dat is fat I am always bo, ven I goes hout on do
expedition. Qui, vraimcnt."

" I always packs up," continued Joe, paying no atten-
tion to Henri's remark — " I alwa3^s packs U}) an' sots
oti' for home when I gits home-sick. It's the best cure ;
an* when hunters are young like you, Dick, it's the

30G

THE DOG CRUSOE.

>i\

f ■'■

I r

i\ i;!:

III

only cure. I've k no wed fellers a'most die o' home-
sickness, an' I'm told they do go under altogether
sometimes."

" Go onder ! " exclaimed Henri ; " oui, I vas all but
die myself ven I fust try to git away from hom'. If I
have not git away, I not be here to-day."

Henri's idea of home-sickness was so totally opposed
to theirs that his comrades only laughed, and refrained
from attempting to set him right.

" The fust time I wos took bad with it wos in a
country somethin' like that," said Joe, pointing to the
wide stretch of undulating prairie, dotted with clusters
of trees and meandering streamlets, that lay before them.
" I had bin out about two months, an' was makin' a
good thing of it, for game wos plenty, when I began to
think somehow more than usual o' home. My mother
wos alive then."

Joe's voice sank to a deep, solenm tone as he said
this, and for a few minutes he rode on in silence.

" Well, it grew worse and worse. I dreamed o' home
all night an' thought of it all day, till I began to shoot
bad, an' my comrades wos gittin' tired o' me ; so says I
to them one night, says I, ' I give out, lads ; I'll make
tracks for the settlement to-morrow.' They tried to
laugh me out of it at first, but it was no go, so I packed
up, bid them good-day, an' sot oft' alone on a trip o' five
hundred miles. Tlie very first mile o' the way back I
began to Uiend, and ln-fore two days I wos all right

agani.

Joe was interru])ted at this point by the sudden
appearance ol' a solitary horseman on the brow of an

THE DOG CRUSOE.

:^07

eminence not half-a-inilc distant. The three friends
instantly drove their pack-horses behind a chinip ot*
trees, but not in time to escape the vigilant eye of the
Red-man, who uttered a loud shout, which brought up
a band of his comrades at full gallop.

" Remember, Henri," cried Joe Blunt, " our errand is
one of iicace."

The caution was needed, for in the confusion of the
moment Henri was making preparation to sell his life
as dearly as possible. Before another word could be
uttered, they were surrounded by a troop of about
twenty yelling Blackfeet Indians. They were, fortu-
nately, not a war party, and, still more fortunately, they
were peaceably disposed, and listened to the preliminary
address of Joe Blunt with exemplary patience ; after
which the two parties encamped on the spot, the coun-
cil fire was lighted, and every preparation made for a
long palaver.

We w^ill not trouble the reader with the details of
wdiat was said on this occasion. The party of Indians
was a small one, and no chief of any importance was
attached to it. Suffice it to say that the pacific over-
tures made by Joe were well received, the trilling gifts
made thereafter were still better received, and they
separated with mutual expressions of goou-will.

Several other bands which were afterwards met with
were equally friendly, and only one war party was seen.
Joe's quick eye observed it in time to enable them to
retire unseen behind the shelter of some trees, where
they remained until the Indian warriors were out of
sight.

308

THE DOG CRUSOE.

-J M

)i a

The next party they met with, however, were more
difficult to manage, and, unfortunately, blood was shed
on both sides before our travellers escaped.

It was at the close of a beautiful day that a war
party of Blackfeet were seen riding along a ridge on the
horizon. It chanced that the prairie at this place was
almost destitute of trees or shrubs large enough to con-
ceal the horses. By dashing down the grassy wave
into the hollow between the two undulations, and dis-
mounting, Joe hoped to elude the savages, so lie gave
the word ; but at the same moment a shout from the
Indians told that they were discovered.

" Look sharp, lads ! throw down the packs on the
highest point of the ridge," cried Joe, undoing the lash-
ings, seizing one of the bales of goods, and hurrying to
the top of the undulation with it ; " we must keep them
at arm's-length, boys — be alive! War parties are not to
be trusted."

Dick and Henri seconded Joe's efforts so ably that
in the course of two minutes the horses were unloaded,
the packs piled in the form of a wall in front of a
broken piece of ground, the horses picketed • close be-
side them, and our three ti'avellers peeping over the
edge, with their rifles cocked, while the savages — about
thirty in number — came sweeping down towards them.

" I'll try to git them to palaver," said Joe Blunt ;
'* but keep yer eye on 'em, Dick, an' if they behave ill,
shoot the horse o' the leadin' chief. I'll throw up my
left hand as a signal. Mind, lad, don't hit human flesh
till my second signal is given, and see that Henri don't
draw till I git back to ye."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

809

So saying, Joe sprang lightly over the slight parapet
of their little fortress, and ran swiftly out, unarmed,
towards the Indians. In a few seconds he was close
up with them, and in another moment was surrounded.
At first the savages brandished their spears and rode
round the solitary man, yelling like fiends, as if they
wished to intimidate him ; but as Joe stood like a
statue, with his arms crossed, and a grave expression of
contempt on his countenance, they quickly desisted, and,
drawing near, asked him where he came from, and what
he was doing there.

Joe's story was soon told ; but instead of replying,
they began to shout vociferously, and evidently meant
mischief.

" If the Blackfeet are afraid to speak to the Pale-face,
he will go back to his braves," said Joe, passing sud-
denly between two of the warriors and taking a few
steps towards the camp.

Instantly every bow was bent, and it seemed as if
our bold hunter were about to be pierced by a score of
arrows, when he turned round and cried, —

" The -Blackfeet must not advance a single step. The
first that moves his liorsc shall die. The second that
moves himself shall die."

To this the Blackfeet chief replied scornfully, " The
Pale-face talks with a big mouth. We do not believe
his words. The Snakes are liars ; we will make no
peace with them."

While he was yet speaking, Joe threw up his hand ;
there was a loud report, and the noble horse of the
savaije chief lay struij^ijlinff in death awnv on the ground.

ili

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I'ff ' !

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* '•!

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^■.tl

it':;

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f il

310

THE DOG CRUSOE.

The use of the rifle, as we have before hinted, was
little known at this period among the Indians of the
far west, and manj'- had never heard the dreaded report
before, although all were aware, from hearsay, of its
fatal power. The fall of the chief's horse, therefore,
quite paralyzed them for a few moments, and they had
not recovered from their surprise when a second report
was heard, a bullet whistled past, and a second horse
fell. At the same moment there was a loud explosion
in the camp of the Pale-faces, a white cloud enveloped
it, and from the midst of this a loud shriek was heard,
as Dick, Henri, and Crusoe bounded over the packs
with frantic gestures.

At this the gaping savages wheeled their steeds
round, the dismounted horsemen sprang on behind two
of their comrades, and the whole band dashed away
over the plains as if they were chased by evil spirits.

Meanwhile Joe hastened towards his comrades in a
state of great anxiety, for he knew at once that one of
the powder-horns must have been accidentally blown up.

" No damage done, boys, I hope ? " he cried on com-
ing up.

" Damage ! " cried Henri, holding his hands tight
over his face. " Oh ! oui, great damage — moche damage ;
me two eyes be blowed out of dere holes."

" Not quite so bad as that, I hope," said Dick, who
was very slightly singed, and forgot his own hurts in
anxiety about his comrade. " Let me see."

" My eye ! " exclaimed Joe Blunt, while a broad grin
overspread his countenance, " ye've not improved yer
looks, Henri."

THE DOG CRUSOE.

This wns true. The worfcliy Imiiter's hair was singed
to such an extent that his entire countenance presented
the appearance of a universal frizzle. Fortunately the
skin, although much blackened, was quite uninjured —
a fact which, when he ascertained it beyond r. doubt,
afforded so much satisfaction to Henri that he capered
about shouting with delight, as if some piece of good
fortune had befallen him.

The accident had happened in consequence of Henri
having omitted to replace the stopper of his powder-
horn, and when, in his anxiety for Joe, he fired at ran-
dom amongst the Indians, despite Dick's entreaties to
wait, a spark communicated with the powder-horn and
blew him up. Dick and Crusoe were only a little
singed, but the former was not disposed to quarrel with
an accident which had sent their enemies so promptly
to the right-about.

This band followed them for some nights, in the hope
of being able to steal their horses wdiile they slept ; but
they were not brave enough to venture a second time
within range of the death-dealing rifle.

;1 i

mds tiofht

l!^

r I'

A-i

CHAPTER XXV.

Damjers of the prairie — Our tra fillers attackcil by Indians, and delivered in

a roimrkable manner.

THERE are periods in the life of almost all men
when misfortunes seem to crowd upon them in
rapid succession, when they escape from one danger
only to encounter another, and when, to use a well-
known expression, they succeed in leaping out of the
frying-pan at the expense of plunging into the lire.

So was it with our three friends upon this occasion.
They were scarcely rid of the Blackfeet, who found them
too w^atchful to be caught napping, when, about day-
break one morning, they encountered a roving band of
Camanchee Indians, who wore such a warlike aspect
that Joe deemed it prudent to avoid them if pos-
sible.

" They don't see us yit, I guess," said Joe, as he and
his companions drove the horses into a hollow between
the grassy waves of the prairie, " an' if we only can
escape their sharp eyes till we're in yonder clump o*
willows, we're safe enough."

" But why don't you ride up to them, Joe," inquired
Dick, "and make peace between them and the Pale-faces,
as you ha' don(^ with other bands ? "

idivered in

all men
them in
} danger

a well-
t of the
lire.

occasion,
nd them
)ut day-

3and of
aspect

if pos-

he and
Detween
nly can
lump o'

n(iuired
^e-faces,

THE DOG CRUSOE.

318

" Because it's o' no use to risk our scalps for the
chance o' makin' peace wi' a rovin' war party. Keep
yer head down, Henri ! If they git only a sight o' the
top o' yer cap, they'll be down on us like a breeze o'
wind."

" Ha ! lot dem come ! " said Henri.

"They'll coine without askin' yer leave," remarked
Joe, dryly.

Notwithstanding his defiant expression, Henri had
sufficient prudence to induce him to bend his head and
shoulders, and in a few minutes they reached the
shelter of the willows unseen by the savages. At least
so thought Henri, Joe was not quite sure about it, and
Dick hoped for the best.

In the course of half-an-hour the last of the Caman-
chees was seen to hover for a second on the horizon,
like a speck of blajk against the sky, and then to dis-
appear.

Immediately the three hunters vaulted on their steeds
and resumed their journey ; but before that evening
closed they had sad evidence of the savage nature of
the band from which they had escaped. On passing
the brow of a slight eminence, Dick, who rode first,
observed that Crusoe stopped and snufifed the breeze in
an anxious, inquiring manner.

" What is't, pup ? " said Dick, drawing up, for he
knew that his faithful dog never gave a false alarm.

Crusoe replied by a short, uncertain bark, and then
bounding forward, disappeared behind a little wooded
knoll. In another moment a long, dismal howl floated
over the plains. There was a mystery about the dog's

\.4

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: tl

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V if

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814

THE DOG CRUSOE.

conduct which, coupled with his melancholy cry, struck
the travellers with a superstitious feeling of dread, as
they sat looking at each other in surprise.

" Come, let's clear it up," cried Joe Blunt, shaking
the reins of his steed, and galloping forward. A few
strides brought them to the other side of the knoll,
where, scattered upon the torn and bloody turf, they
discovered the scalped and mangled remains of about
twenty or thirty human beings. Their skulls had been
cleft by the tomahawk and their breasts pierced by the
seal ping-knife, and from the position in which many of
them lay it w^as evident that they had been slain while
asleep.

Joe's brow flushed and his lips became tiglitly com-
pressed as he muttered between his set teeth, " Their
skins are white."

A short examination sufficed to show that the men
who had thus been barbarously murdered while they
slept had been a band of trappers or hunters, but what
their errand had been, or whence they came, they could
not discover.

Everything of value had been carried off, and all the
scalps had been taken. Most of the bodies, although
much mutilated, lay in a posture that led our hunters
to believe they had been killed while asleep ; but one or
two were cut almost to pieces, and from the blood-
bespattered and trampled sward around, it seemed as if
they had struggled long and fiercely for life. AVhether
or not any of the savafjes had been slain, it was im-
possible to tell, for if such had been the case, their
comrades, doubtless, had carried away their bodies.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

ni;")

That they had been slaughtered by the party of Caniaii-
chees who had been seen at daybreak was (jnite clear to
Joe ; but his burninn; desire to rcvenfje the death of the
white men had to be stifled, as his party was so small.

Lono' afterwards it was discovered that this was a
band of trappers who, like those mentioned at the bc^n^in-
ninfj of this volume, had set out to avenixe the death
of a comrade ; but God, who has retained the right of
vengeance in his own hand, saw fit to frustrate their
purpose, by giving them into the hands oi the savages
whom they had set forth to slay.

As it was impossible to bury so many bodies, the
travellers resumc^d their journey, and left them to bleach
there in the wilderness ; but they rode the whole of
that day almost without uttering a word.

Meanwhile the Camanchecs, who had observed the
trio, and had ridden away at first for the purpose of
deceiving them into the belief that they had passed
unobserved, doubled on their track, and took a long
sweep in order to keep out of sight until they could
approach under ti.^e shelter of a belt of woodland
towards which the travellers now approached.

The Indians adopted this course instead of the easier
method of simply pursuing so weak a party, because
the plains at this part were bordered by a long stretch
of forest into which the hunters could have plunged,
and rendered pursuit more difficult, if not almost useless.
The detour thus taken was so extensive that the shades
of evening were beginning to descend before they could
put their plan into execution. The forest lay about a
mile to the right of our hunters, like some dark main-

11 ;

■J

I Ma

1 1

111

316

THE DOG CRUSOE.

land, of which the prairie was the sea anil the scattered
clumps of wood the islands.

" There's no lack o' game here," said Dick Varley,
pointing to a herd of buffaloes which rose at their
approach and fled away towards the wood.

" I think we'll ha' thunder soon," remarked Joe. " I
never feel it onnatteral hot like this without lookin' out
for a plump."

" Ha ! den ve better look hout for one goot tree to
get b'low," suggested Henri. " Voihi ! " he added, point-
ing with his finger towards the plain ; " dere am a lot
of wild bosses."

A troop of about thirty wild horses appeared, as he
spoke, on the brow of a ridge, and advanced slowly
towards them.

" Hist ! " exclaimed Joe, reining up ; " hold on, lads.
Wild horses ! my rifle to a pop-gun there's wilder men
on t'other side o' them."

" What mean you, Joe ? " inquired Dick, riding close
up.

" D'ye see the little lumps on the shoulder o' each
horse ? " said Joe. " Them's Injun's feet ; an' if we don't
want to lose our scalps we'd better make for the forest."

Joe proved himself to be in earnest by wheeling
round and making straight for the thick wood as fast as
his horse could run. The others followed, driving the
pack-horses before them.

The effect of this sudden movement on the so-called
" wild horses " was very remarkable, and to one un-
acquainted with the habits of the Camanchee Indians
must have appeared almost supernatural. In the twink-

THE DUO CRUSOE.

317

the scattered

ling of an eye every steed lia«l a rider on its l>ack, and
before the hunters had taken five strides in the direc-
tion of the forest, the whole band were in hot pursuit,
yelling like furies.

The manner in which these Indians accomplish this
feat is very singular, and implies great activity and
strength of muscle on the part of the savages.

The Camanchees are low in stature, and usually are
rather corpulent. In their movements on foot they an;
heavy and ungraceful, and they are, on the whole, a
slovenly and unattractive race of men. But the instant
they mount their horses they seem to be entirely
changed, and surprise the spectator with the ease and
eleficance of their movements. Their oreat and dis-
tinctive peculiarity as horsemen is the power they have
acquired of throwing themselves suddenly on either side
of their horse's body, and clinging on in such a way
that no part of them is visible from the other side
save the foot by which they cling. In this manner
they approach their enemies at full gallop, and, without
rising again to the saddle, discharge their arrows at
them over the horses' backs, or even under their
necks.

This appai'ently n)agical feat is accomplished by
means of a halter of horse-hair, which is passed round
under the neck of the horse and both ends braided into
the mane, on the withers, thus forming a loop which
hangs under the neck and against the breast. This
being caught by the hand, makes a sling, into which the
elbow falls, taking the weight of the body on the middle
of the upper arm. Into this loop the rider drops sud-

318

THE DOG CRUSOE.

■iv

i,i^ 1' i'

" l"!

denlv tind fearlessly, leavinc: his heel to hano- over the
horse's back to steady him, and also to restore him to his
seat when desired.

By this stratao-eni the Indians had approached on the
present occasion almost within ritic range before they
were discovered, and it re(|uired the utmost speed of the
hunters' horses to enable them to avoid being over-
taken. One of the Indians, who was better mounted
than his fellows, gained on the fugitives so much that
ho came within arrov/ range, but reserved his shaft until
they were close on the margin of the wood, when, being
almost alongside of Henri, he tiffed an arrow to his
bow. Henri's eye was upon hi'ii, however. Letting go
the line of the pack-horse which he was leading, he
threw forward his rifle ; but at the same moment the
savage disappeared behind his horse, and an arrow
whizzed past the hunter's ear.

Henri fired at the horse, which dropped instantly,
hurling the astonished Camanchee upon the ground, where
ho lay for some time insensible. In a few seconds
pursued and pursuers entered the wood, where both had
to advance with caution, in order to avoid being swept
ort' by the overhanging Ijranches of the trees.

JNleanwhile the sultry heat of which Joe had formerly
spoken increased considerably, and a nunbling noise,
as if of distant thunder, was heard ; but the flying
hunters paid no attention to it, for the led horses gave
them so nnich trouble, and retarded their flight so much,
that the Indians were gradually and visibly gaining on
them.

"We'll ha' to let the packs go," st. id Joe, somewhat

aiiLi' over the
ire liiiii to his

»{iched on the

before they

speed of the

being- over-

ter mounted

3 mucli that

is shaft until

when, beinu;'

irrow to his

Lettino- no

leadini,^, he
moment tlie
1 an arro^v

d instantly,
ound, where
'ew seconds
re both had
jeing swept

d formerly

"lling noise,

the flying

)rses gave

It so much,

taninig on

jou)ewhat

THE DOG CRUSOE.

nio

bitterly, as he looked over his showdder. " Our scalps '11
pay for't, if we don't."

Henri uttered a peculiar and siijnificant A/.s.s be-
tween his teeth, as he saiil, " P'raps ve better stop
and light ' "

Dick said nothing, being resolved to do exactly what
Joe Blunt bid him ; and Crusoe, for reasons best known
to himself, also said nothing, but bounded along beside
his nuister's horse, casting an occasional glance upwards
to catch any signal that might be given.

They had passed over a considerable space of ground,
and were forcing their way at the innninent hazard of
their necks through a densely-clothed part of the wood,
when the sound above referred to increased, attracting
the attention of both parties. In a few secor. .Is tlu;
air was filled with a steady and continuous rumblinu'
sound, like the noise of a distant cataract. Pursuers
and fugitives drew rein instinctively, and came to a
dead stand , while the rumbling increased to a roar, and
evidently approached them rapidly, though as yet nothing
to cause it could be seen, except that there was a dense,
dark cloud overspreading the sky to the soutliward.
The air was oppressively still and hot.

" What can it be?" inquired Diek, looking at Joe, who
was gazing with an expression of wonder, not unmixed
with concern, at the southern sky.

" Dun'no', boy. I've bin more in the woods than in
the clearin' in my day, but I niver heerd the likes o'
that."

"It am like t'ondre," said Henri : " mais it nevair do
stop. *

320

THE DOG CRUHOE.

nur

This was true. Tlic sound was similar to continuous,
uninterrupted thunder. On it came with a magnifi-
cent roar that shook the very earth, and revealed
itself at last in the shape of a mighty whirlwind. In
a moment the distant woods bent before it, and fell like
grass before the scythe. It was a whirling hurricane,
accompanied by a deluge of rain such as none of the
party had ever before M^tnessed. Steadily, fiercely,
irrebl tibl}'- it bore down upon them, while the crash of
falling, snapping, and uprooting trees mingled with the
dire artillery of that sweeping storm like the muske^ j
on a battle-field.

" Follow me, lads ! " shouted Joe, turning his horse
and dashing at full speed towards a rocky eminence
that offered shelter. But shelter was not needed. The
storm was clearly defined. Its limits were as distinctly
marked by its Creator as if it had been a living in-
telligence sent forth to put a belt of desolation round
the world ; and, although the edge of devastation was
not five hundred yards from the rock behind which the
hunters were stationed, only a few drops of ice-cold
rain fell upon them.

It passed directly between the Camanchee Indians
and their intended victims, placing between them a
barrier which it would have taken daj^s to cut through.
The storm blew for an hour, then it travelled onward in
its might, and was lost in the distance. Whence it
came an<l whither it went none could tell, but far as
the eye could see on either hand an avenue a quarter
of a mile wide was cut through the forest. It had
levelled everything with the dust ; the very grass was

to continuous,
1 a niagnifi-
md revealed
lii'lwind. In
and fell like
g liurricane,
none of the
ily, fiercely,
the crash of
ed with the
Je muske^ v

? his horse
7 eminence
eded. The
s distinctly
Jiving in-
tion round
tation was
w]iich the
)f ice-cold

THE DOG CRUSOE.

391
beaten flat ; tl,e trees were torn .1 • ,
across, and crashed- and 1 ,"'"''''' -'"'Wed

places was ploughed' una„ * "'^■'*' ™ "'-ny

Tl-e chaos L indielS ir Tt1:""\''? -'•■'
centuries will not quite JX P^'ohMe that

single hour. ^ " ""^'"""'^ *''« "'O'-k of that

While it lasted, Joe inrl ^•
^pceehless and awe^strieker wL^t"'" T™'"^^
cl.ans were to be seen. So our h,l ''''"'"^' "° ^"-
steeds, and, with feelin-., ° "' '""''"■•^■'•e™ounted their

delivered them alike ^^,1^*'*^'" '° ''"' '"'■ ''--«
«t.-uetive power otU^Z^!^"; " ""' '™"^ "^ ^1-
tovvards the Mustang vX'"""'' '■""'"-' "'-^ journey

Indians
11 them a
t through,
inward in
Mienco it
ut far as

1 quarter
It had

)^ra8.s was

I ■'

CHAPTER XXVI.

Anxious fears followed by a joyful surprise— Safe home at last, and happy hearts.

'i I

ONE fine i'' ^ lOon, a few weeks after the storm of
which wc lave given an account in the last
chapter, old Mrs. Varley was seated beside her own
chimney corner in the little cottage by the lake, gazing
at the glowing logs with the earnest expression of one
whose thoughts were far away. Her kind face was
paler than usual, and her hands rested idly on her knee,
grasping the knitting-wires to which was attached a half-
finished stocking.

On a stool near to her sat young Marston, the lad to
whom, on the day of the shooting-match, Dick Varley
had given his old rifie. The boy had an anxious look
about him, as he lifted his eyes from tiir.e to time to the
widow's face.

" Did ye say, my boy, that they were <dl killed ? "
inquired Mrs. Varley, awaking from her reverie with
a deep sigh.

" Every one," replied Marston. " Jim Scraggs, who
brought the news, said they wos all lying dead with
their scalps oif. They wos a party o' white men."

Mrs. Varley sighed again, and her face assumed an
expression of anxious pnin as she thought of her son

THE DOG CRUSOE.

nd happy hearts.

»f being exposed to .. .si,,.;,,, . , ,
l'\m.n to nervous fe, rlut ' , ''"' ''^'''^^ --^
boy« recital of the sla,,'!,"' ''" ''•'**'■■"«• '« ".e
n«'v.s of whicl, had iust . , \ "" ^'""'^ °^ "''"to me,,

band of the widow that ITllJ ""■ ""'° '** *''« '--

f «eted about andwLt.S "f'' ^"""^^ ^'"-^0"
«"ng to say which ho wo^ ^.- T '' '" ''"" ---
Parley continued.— ' ^'"" ''^'^^o ""said, Mrs.

" Was it far off wherp tl, i . ,
"Yes; three week off t',""'^ ''«"' "'^^ ''«"« ?»
^«iJ that he found a lu^"; tw TT '^"'' '"'' ^^^.-ffs
belonged to-to--« t , ^^'°°'"'^ '''^"^ «'« one ^^t

" T„ , 1 ""- ™' bositated

lo whom, ,„y boy ? Wl,^ I

' To your son Dick-,"' ^ " ' ^'^ «<> "" ? "

would have fal,e„T,:?„:'n;r^' ''■ '"■'■ '"^- "«1 «he

" O mother dear To^tul" ''^"°"'" ''«'••
-oothin. down the vdU r^ "'? "'^"" '-ried.
bis breast. °"^ ' '""'■ -^^ ber J.ead ,-ested on

For some time Afi-^ v >
';- ;- «"e„ce, w,.t 'h r£. -'^7' «'o boy to fondie
^'™ad- "^"-'st laboured with an.xious

" ^ eli nie all " h
-WcUimsee-Dicr-''" "' '"''' '^^°^'«""S a little.

'«" ye that p-rV he's o'ciecr' *"' "" °^^^ ''-<^ *«
*•«■ Va,.Jey breathed mor'e freelv „n ,

""'>' and earnestly

824

THE DOG CRUSOE.

thanked God ; but lier fears soon returned when she
tliought of his being a prisoner, and recalled the tales
of terrible cruelty often related of the savages.

While she was still engaged in closely questioning
the lad, Jim Scraggs himself entered the cottage, and
endeavoured in a grutf sort oi way to reassure the widow.

" Ye see, mistress," he said, " Dick is an oncornmon
tough customer, an' if he could only git fifty yards' start,
there's not an Injun in the West as could git hold o' him
asfin : so don't be takin' on."

" But what if he's been taken prisoner ? " said the
widow.

" Ay, that's jest wot I've comed about. Ye see it's
not onlikely he's bin took ; so about thirty o' the lads
o' the valley are ready jest now to start away and give
the red riptiles chase, an' I come to tell ye ; so keep up
heart, mistress."

With this parting word of comfort, Jim withdrew,
and Marston soon followed, leaving the widow to weep
and pray in solitude.

Meanwhile an animated scene was going on near the
block-house. Here thirty of the young hunters of the
Mustang Valley were assembled, actively engaged in
supplying themselves with powder and lead, and tighten-
ing their girths, preparatory to setting out in pursuit
of the Indians who had murdered the white men ; while
hundreds of boys and girls, and not a few matrons,
crowded round and listened to the conversation, and to
the deep threats of vengeance that were uttered ever
and ftnon by the younger men.

Major Hope, too, was among them. The worthy

THE DOG CRUSOE.

325

major, unable to restrain liis rovinf^ propensities, deter-
mined to revisit the ^[ustang Valley, and had arrived
only two days before.

Backwoodsmen's preparations are usually of the short-
est and simplest. In a few minutes the cavalcade was
ready, and away they went towards the prairies, with
the bold major at their head. But their journey was
destined to come to an aljrupt and unexpected close.
A couple of hours' gallop brought them to the edge of
one of those open plains which sometimes break up the
woodland near the verge of the great prairies. It
stretched out like a green lake towards the horizon, on
which, just as the band of horsemen reached it, the sun
was descending in a blaze of glory.

With a shout of enthusiasm, several of the younger
members of the party sprang forward into the plain
at a g;\llop ; but the shout was mingled with one of a
different tone from the older men.

" Hist ! — hallo ! — hold on, ye catamounts ! There's
Injuns ahead ! "

The whole band came to a sudden halt at this cry,
and watched eagerly, and for some time in silence, the
motions of a small party of horsemen who were seen in
the far distance, like black specks on the golden sky.

" They cc^me this way, I think," said Major Hope,
after gazing steadfastly at them for some minutes.

Several of the old hands signified their assent to this
suggestion by a grunt, although to unaccustomed eyes
the objects in question looked more like crows than
horsemen, and their motion was for some time scarcely
perceptible.

ii ' > l:i'

H J

is
as!

32G

THE DUG CRUSOE.

" I sees pack-horses among' them," cried young Mar-
ston in an excited tone ; " an' there's three riders ; but
there's som'thin' else, only wot it be I can't tell."

" Ye've sharp eyes, younker," remarked one of the
men, " an' I do b'lieve ye're right."

Presently the horsemen approached, and soon there
was a brisk fire of guessing as to who they could be.
It was evident that the strano-ers observed the cavalcade
of white men, and regarded them as friends, for they
did not check the headlong speed at which they ap-
proached. In a few minutes they were clearly made out
to be a party of three horsemen driving pack-horses
before them, and somefhin' which some of the hunters
guessed was a buffalo calf.

Young Marston guessed too, but his guess was dif-
ferent. Moreover, it was uttered with a yell that would
have done credit to the fiercest of all the savages.
" Crusoe ! " he shouted, while at the same moment he
brought his whip heavily down on the flank of his little
horse, and sprang over the prairie like an arrow.

One of the approaching horsemen was far ahead of
his comrades, and seemed as if encircled with the flying
and voluminous mane of his maijnificent horse.

" Ha ! ho ! " gasped Marston in a low tone to him-
self, as he flew along. " Crusoe ! I'd know ye, dog,

among a thousand ! A buffalo calf !
ye!"

Ha ! git on with

This last part of the remark was addressed to his
horse, and was followed by a whack that increased the
pace considerably.

The space between two such riders was soon devoured.

young Mar-
riders; but
tell."

one of the

soon there
>y could be.
le cavalcade
is, for they
h they ap-
y made out
pack-horses
he hunters

s was dif,
that would
e savages,
loment he
f his little
w.

ahead of
the flying

■ to him-

ye, dog,

b on with

sd to his
ased the

levoured.

THE DOG CRUSOE.

327

;; Hallo .-Wek-_DickVaWey. , "

have fle^eTLy ,t;',,;;f, ai-;;';"?'^ ''""' "»« ■"^sht

*oek of n,ortal conflict! ''"'='"'^ "^ ^''' '" "■«

" Is't yerself, Dick Varloy 7 ■■

Marston seized if i

vaulted nin.bl, off andTltC^^^^^^^ r'^^"^ ''^'^ "^^'
his friend. °^'''' '''' Charlie's back behind

" ^^' ye go, Dick ! I'll tn]-o ,. X

Without reply Dfnt t , ^ ^'^ ^'' '"^^^^^^r."

te" ye all about it," he added n!" r ' ■'"'^ ' "^"^^^'H
who were now closL at C ^T> *" ^'' '=°'"'-'l--

W« wai.st like a monkey '"' *''"-'*'°» «''"S">g to

Charlie was fresh, and so wa, Cn,.o„
SMe ,t was not Ion-, before IT „ f' '° ^°" ""^^ ^e
*he door of the wrdowf c„tt "" J''""" "^ "PP"'^''"
dismount, Marston Md sLn r''% '^''""' "''^'^ -"'"
the kitchen. ^^ ""^ ""J was already i„

" Here's Dick, mother i "

' ^^ ^ snail not open it !

328

THE DOG CRUSOE.

i I-

Having shut the door, as we have said, Marston ran
down to the edge of the lake and yelled with delight —
usually terminating each paroxysm with the Indian war-
whoop, with which he was well acquainted. Then he
danced, and then he sat down on a rock, and became
suddenly aware that there were other hearts there, close
beside him, as glad as his own. Another mother of the
Mustang Valley was rejoicing over a long-lost son.

Crusoe and his mother Fan were scampering round
each other in a manner that evinced powerfully the
strength of their mutual affection.

Talk of holding converse ! Every hair on Crusoe's
body, every motion of his limbs, was eloquent with
silent language. He gazed into his mother's mild eyes
as if he would read her inmost soul (supposing that she
had one). He turned his head to every possible angle,
and cocked his ears to every conceivable elevation, and
rubbed his nose against Fan's, and barked softly, in
every imaginable degree of modulation, and varied these
proceedings by bounding away at full speed over the
rocks of the beach, and in among the bushes and out
again, but always circling round and round Fan, and
keeping her in view !

It was a sight worth seeing, and young Marston sat
down on a rock, deliberately and enthusia.^ tically, to
gloat over it. But perhaps the most reman :able part
of it has not yet been referred to. There was yet
another heart there that was glad — exceeding glad that
day. It was a little one too, but it was big for the
body that held it. Grumps was there, and all that
Grumps did was to sit on his haunches and stare at Fan

THE TtOG CRUSOE.

.S20

and Crusoe, and wa^f his tail as well as ho could in so
awkward a position ! Grumps was evidently bewildered
with delight, and had lost nearly all power to express
it. Crusoe's conduct towards him, too, was m^t calculated
to clear his faculties. Every time he chanced to pass
near Grumps in his elephantine gambols, he gave him
a passing touch with his nose, which always knocked
him head over heels ; whereat Grumps invariably got
up quickly and wagged his tail with additional energy.
Before the feelings of those canine friends were calmed,
they were all three ruffled into a state- of comparative
exhaustion.

Then young Marston called Crusoe to him, and
Crusoe, obedient to the voice of friendship, went.

" Are you happy, my dog ? "

" You're a stupid fellow to ask such a question ; how-
ever it's an amiable one. Yes, I am."

" What do you want, ye small bundle o' hair ? "

This was addressed to Grumps, who came forward
innocently, and sat down to listen to the conversation.

On being thus sternly questioned the little dog put
down its ears flat, and hung its head, looking up at the
same time with a deprecatory look, as if to say, " Oh
dear, I beg pardon. I — I only want to sit near Crusoe,
please ; but if you wish it, I'll go away, sad and lonely,
with my tail very much between my legs ; indeed I will,
only say the word, but — but I'd rather stay if I might."

" Poor bundle ! " said Marston, patting its head, " you
can stay then. Hooray ! Crusoe, are you happy, I
say ? Does your heart bound in you like a cannon ball
that wants to find its way out, and can't, eh ? **

I.i I

83()

THE D()(l CKUSOE.

Crusoe put his snout against Mnrston's cheek, and in
the excess of his joy tlie lad threw liis arms round the
dog's neck and hugged it vigorously — a piece of impulsive
affection which that noble animal bore with character-
istic meekness, and which Grumps regarded with idiotic
satisfaction.

■ !!

CHAPTER XXVII.

lirjoicin'js — Tilt feast at tlu hbic/i-hoHsc—Gruvips and Crusoe come out slronfj —

The ehsiH'j scene.

THE day of Dick's arrival with his companions was
a great day in the annals of the Mustang Valley,
and Major Hope resolved to celehrate it by an impromptu
festival at the old block-house ; for many hearts in the
valley had been made glad that day, and he knew full
well that, under such circumstances, some safety-valve
must be devised for the escape of overflowing excite-
ment.

A messenger was sent round to invite the population
to assemble without delay in front of the block-house.
With backwoods-like celerity the summons was obeyed ;
men, w^omen, and children hurried towards the central
point, wondering, yet more than half suspecting, what
was the major's object in calling them together.

They were not long in doubt. The first sight that
presented itself, as they came trooping up the slope in
front of the log-hut, was an ox roasting whole before
a gigantic bonfire. Tables were being extemporized on
the broad level plot in front of the gate. Other fires
there were, of smaller dimensions, on which sundry
steaming pots were placed, and various joints of wild

''ij

1i ' *■

I -J

i; '

|llf:|

THT^ DOG CRUSOE,

horse, bear, and venison roasted, and sent forth a sa-
voury odour as well as a pleasant lussinc: noise. The
inhabitants of the block-house were self-taught brewers,
and the result of their recent labours now stood dis-
played in a row of goodly casks of beer — the only
beverage with which the dwellers i:i these far-off" regions
were wont to re^'ale themselves.

The whole sceiiu, as the cooks moved activ^ely about
upon the lawn, and children romped round the fires,
and settlers came flocking through the forests, might
have recalled the revelry of merry England in the olden
time, though the costumes of ^he far west were perhaps
somewhat different from those of old England.

No one of all the band assembled there on that day
of rejoicing required to ask what it was all about. Had
ariy one been in doubt for a moment, a glance at the
centre of the crowd assembled round the gate of the
western fortress would have quickly enlightened him.
For there stood Dick \ arley, and his mild-looking mother,
and his loving dog Crusoe. There, too, stood Joe Blunt,
like a bronzed warrior returned from the ficfht, turninq;
from one to anothci as question poured in upon question
almost too rai)idly to permit of a reply. There, too,
stood Henri, making enthusiastic speeches to whoever
chose to listen to him — now ji-larinq; at the crowd with
clenched fists and growling voice, as he told of how Joe
and he had been tied hand and foot, and lashed to poles,
and buried in leaves, and threatened with a slow death
by torture; at other times bursting into a hilarious laugh
as ho held forth on the predicament of Mahtawa. when
that wily chief was treed by Crusoe in the prairie.

THE DOG r^RUSOE.

Young Marston was there, too, hanging about Dick,
whom he loved as a brother and regarded as a perfect
hero. Grumps, too. was there, and Fan. Do you
think, reader, that Grumps looked at any one but
Crusoe ? It* you do, you are mistaken. Grumps on
that day became a regular, an incorrigible, utter, and
perfect nuisance to everybody — not excepting himself,
poor beast ! Grumps was a dog of one idea, and that
idea was Crusoe. Out of that great idea there grew one
little secondary idea, and that idea was that the only
jo}'" on earth worth mentioning was to sit on his haunches,
exactly six inches from Crusoe's nose, and gaze steadfastly
into his face. Wherever Crusoe went Grumps went.
If Crusoe stopped, Grumps was down before him in an
instant. If Crusoe bounded away, which in the exuber-
ance of his spirits he often did, Grumps was after him
like a bundle of mad hair. He was in everybody's
way, in Crusoe's way, and being, so to speak, " beside
himself," was also in his own way. If people trod upon
him accidentally, which they often did, Grumps uttered
a solitary heart-rending yell proportioned in intensity
to the excruciating nature of the torture he endured,
then instantly resumed his position and his fascinated
stare. Crusoe generally hold his head up, and gazed
over his little friend at what was going on around him ;
but if for a moment he permitted his eye to rest on the
countenance of Grumps, that creature's tail became
suddenly imbued with an amount of wriggling vitality
that seemed to threaten its separation from the body.

It was really quite interesting to watch this unblush-
ing, and disinterested, and utterly ri'cklcss display of

IH mm

^B ^H i ' 1

THE DOG CRUSOE.

aff'ection on the part of Gruinps, and the amiable way
in V -tich Crusoe put up with it. We say put up witli
it advisedly, because it must have been a very great
inconvenience to him, seeing* that if he attempted to
move, his satellite moved in front of him, so that his
only way of escaping temporarily was by jumping over
Grumps's head.

Grumps was everywhere all day. Nobody, almost,
escaped trampling on part of him. He tumbled over
everything, into everything, and against everything.
He knocked himself, singed himself, and scalded him-
self, and in fact forgot himself altogether ; and when,
late that night, Crusoe went with Dick into his mother's
cottage, and the door was shut, Grumps stretched his
ruffled, battered, ill-used, and dishevelled little body
down on the door-step, thrust his nose against the
opening below the door, and lay in humble content-
ment all night, for ho knew that Crusoe was there.

Of course such an occasion could not pass without
a shooting-match. Ritles were brought out after the
feast was over, just before the sun went down into its
bed on the western prairies, and " the nail " was soon
surrounded by bullets, tipped by Joe Blunt and Jim
Scraggj, and of course driven home by Dick Varley,
wliose "silver rifle" had now become in its owner's hand
a never-failing weapon. Races, too, were started, and
hero again Dick stood pre-eminent ; and when night
sp)*ead her dark mantle over the scone, the two best
fiddlers in the settlement were placed on empty beer-
casks, and some danced by the light of the monster fires,
while others listened to Joe Blunt as he recounted their

THE DOG CRUSOE.

885

adventures on the prairies and among- the Rocky Moun-
tains.

There were sweethearts, and wives, and lovers at the
feast, but we question if any lieart thtsre was so full of
love, and admiration, and gratitude, as that oi' the
Widow Varley as she watched her son ])ick throughout
that rnerry evening.

* * * * *

Years rolled by, and the JMustang Valley prospered.
Missionaries went there, and a little church was built,
and to the blessings of a fertile land were added the
far greater blessings of Christian light and knowledge.
One sad blow fell on th(3 Widow Varley 's heart. Her
only brother, Daniel Hood, was murdered by the Indians.
Deeply and long she mourned, and it required all Dick's
eftbrts and those of the pastor of the settlement to
comfort .icr. But iVom the hrst tlu^ widow s heart was
sustained by the loving Han^ ! it dealt tln^ blow, and
when time blunted the keen edgv of lur feelings her
face became as sweet and mild, though not so light >omo,
as before.

Joe Blunt and Henri became leading men in the
councils of the IMustang Valley ; but Dick Vm ley pre-
ferred the woods, although, as long Jis his mother livod,
he hovered round her cottage — going oft' sometin lor
a day, sometimes for a week, but n(!V<>r longer. After
her head was laid in the dust, Dick took altog(>ther to
the woods, with Crusoe and Charlie, the wild hojse, as
his only companions, and his mother's Bible in the
breast of his hunting-shirt. And soon Dick, the bold
liunter, and his dog Crusoe became renowned in the

336

THE DOG CRUSOE.

: .«

. I!

■A. I

i:,(

frontier settlements from the banks of the Yellowstone
River to the Gulf of Mexico.

Mcny a grizzly bear did the famous " silver rifle " lay
low, and many a wild, exciting chase and adventure did
Dick jxo throuo'h ; but durinu' his occasional visits to the
Mustang Valley he was wont to say to Joe Blunt and
Henri — with whom he always sojourned — that "nothin'
he ever felt or saw came up to hjsjirst grand dash over
the western prairies into the heart of the Rocky Moun-
tains." And in saying this, with enthusiasm in his eye
and voice, Dick invariably appealed to, and received a
ready affirmative glance from, his early companion and
his faithful loving friend, the dog Crusoe.

1 t

THE END.

'■;! I

-■^— YT-3--^

s Yellowstone

vev ride " lay
-d venture did
visits to the
e Blunt and
that " nothin'
nd dash over
loeky Moun-
tn in his eye
d received a
npanion and