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J* i\ Ac'^'^y-f^. t', f t s ROB NIXON, THE OLD WHITE TRAPPER. ^ 3^ale of ^entml Sntisl^ l^oit^ ^mtttau BY W. H. G. KINGSTON, ▲ UTHOB OF "PBTXB THX WHALEB ;" "TOUNO rOBRXaTEBt." NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY JAMES MILLER, (BVOOnSOB TO O. B. FRANOIB * 00.) 322 BBOADWAT. 1866. Rio I ROB NIXON, THE OLD WHITE TBAPPEB. » I CHAPTER I. FiOTUBE a wide, gently undulating expanse of land covered with tall grass, over which, as it bends to the breeze, a gleam of light ever and anon flashes brightly. It is a roll- ing prairie in Korth America, midway be- tween the Atlantic and Paciflc oceans. On either hand the earth and sky seem to unite, without an object to break the line of the horizon, except in the far distance, where some tall trees, by a river's side, shoot up out of the plain, but appear no higher than a garden hedge-row. It is truly a wilder- 10 ROB NIXON, ness, which no wise man would attempt to traverse without a guide. That man has wandered there, the rem- nants of mortality which lie scattered about — a skull and the bare ribs seen as the wind blows the grass aside — afford melancholy evidence. A nearer inspection shows a rifle, now covered with rust, a powder-flask, a sheath-knife, a flint and steel, and a few other metal articles of hunters' gear. Those of more destructible materials have disap- peared before the ravenous jaws of the hosts of locusts which have swept over the plain. Few portions of the earth's. surface give a more complete idea of boundless extent than the American prairie. "Not a sound is heard. The silence itself is awe-inspiring. The snows of* winter have lain thickly on that plain, storms have swept over it, the rain has fallen, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, since it has been trodden by the foot of man. Perhaps the last human being who \ I THE OLD WHITK TBAPPEB. has attempted to cross it was he whose bones lie blanching in the summer sun— «that sun which now, having some time passed its meridian height, is sinking towards the west. Southward appear, coming as it were from below the horizon, some dark specks, scat- tered widely from east to west, and moving slowly. On they come, each instant in- creasing in numbers, till they form one dark line. They are animals with huge heads and dark shaggy manes, browsing as they advance, clearing the herbage before them. They are a herd of bison, known by the wild hunters of the west as buffaloes — countless apparently in numbers — powerful and fero- cious in appearance, with their short thick horns and long heads. Kow they halt, as the richer pasturage entices ; now again ad- vance. A large number lie down to rest, while others, moving out of the midst, seem to be acting as scouts to give notice of the 12 ROB NIXON, approach of danger. They go on as before, darkening the whole southern horizon. The wind is from the west; the scouts lift up their shaggy heads and sniff the air, but dis- cover no danger. From the east another dark line rises quickly above the horizon : the ground shakes with the tramp of horses. It is a troop of huntsmen — savage warriors of the desert. What clothing they wear is of leather gayly adorned. Some have feath- ers in their heads, and their dark red skins painted curiously. Some carry bows richly ornamented: a few only are armed with rifles. A few, who, by their dress, the feathers and adornments of the head, appear to be chiefs, ride ahead and keep the line in order. Every man holds his weapon ready for instant use. They advance steadily, keeping an even line. Their leader waves his rifle. Instantly the steeds spring for- ward. Like a whirlwind they dash on : no want of energy now. The huntsmen are ■ s TBS OLD WHITB TaAPP£B. 13 amoDg the bewildered herd before their ap> proacli has been perceived. Arrows fly in quick succession from every bow — bullets from the rifles. The huntsmen have flUed their mouths with the leaden messengers of death, and drop them into their rifles as they gallop on, firing right and left — singling out the fattest beasts at a glance — and never erring in theu aim. In a few minutes the plain is thickly strewn with the huge car- casses of the shaggy bu£faloes, each hunts- man, as he passes on, dropping some article of his property by which he may know the beast he has killed. Kow the herd begin to seek for safety in flight, still keeping in the direction they had before been taking, some scattering, however, on each side. The eager hunters pursue till the whole prairie, from right to left, is 'covered with flying buffaloes and wild horsemen ; the crack of the rifles sounding distinctly through the calm, summer air, in which the tiny wreath 2* 14 SOB NIXON, of smoke ascends unbroken and marks the hunter's progress. Among the huntsmen rides one distin- guished from the rest by his more complete, yet less ornamented clothing ; by a leather cap without feathers, and by the perfect order of his rifle and hunting accoutrements. On a nearer inspection, his skin — though tanned, and wrinkled, and furrowed, by long exposure to the weather, and by age and toil — might 1)3 discovered to have been of a much lighter hue originally than that of his companions. Old as he was, no one was more eager in the chase, and no one's rifle brought down so great a number of buffaloes as did his. To all appearance he was as active and strong as the youngest huntsman of the band. In the course of the hunt he had reached the extreme left of the line. A superb bull appeared before him. " I'll have you for your robe, if not for your meat, old fellow," exclaimed the hunter, galloping on THE OLD WHITB TBAFPEB. 15 towards the animal's right flank, so as to turn him yet further from the herd, and to obtain a more direct shot at his head or at his shoulders. There are occasions when the most practised of shots will find himself at fault — ^the firmest nerves will fail. The old hunter had reached a satisfactory position — he raised his rifle, and fired. At that in- stant, while still at full speed, his horse's front feet sunk into a hole made by a badger, or some other of the smaller creatures in- habiting the prairie ; and the animal, nnable to recover itself, threw the hunter violently forward over its head, where he lay without moving, and apparently dead. The horse struggled to free itself; and then, as it fell forward, gave utterance to one of those piercing cries of agony not often heard, and, when heard, not to be forgotten. Both fore- legs were broken. Its fate was certain. It must become the prey of the ravenous wolves, who speedily scent out the spots 16 ROB NIXON, , '.f where the hunters have overtaken a herd of buffaloes. Meantime the buffalo, who had been struck by the hunter's bullet, but not so wounded as to bring him instantly to the gi'ound, galloped on for some distance in the direction he was before going, when, feeling the pain of his wound, or hearing the cry of the horse, he turned round to face his enemies. Seeing both steed and rider pros- trate, he tossed his head, and then, lowering his horns close, to the ground, prepared to charge. The last moments of the old hunter seemed approaching. The cry of agony- uttered by his favorite steed roused him. He looked up and saw the buffalo about to make its charge. His hand had never re- laxed its grasp of his rifle. To feel for his powder-flask and to load was the work of an instant ; and, without an attempt to rise, he brought the muzzle of his piece to bear on the furious animal as it was within a few paces of him. "Kob Nixon never feared \ •• fF^^OJK.J "TSSSSSSH"'!!!'' TUB OLD WHITB TRAPPEB. 17 man nor beast, and will not this time, let an old bull bellow as loud as he may," he mut- tered, as he raised his rifle and fired. The bullet took effect, but did not stop the head- long career of the enraged monster, which came on, ploughing up the ground, towards him. The hunter saw his danger and tried to rise, but in vain. He then made a despe- rate endeavor to drag himself out of the way of the creature. He but partially suc- ceeded, when the buffalo, sinking down, rolled over and over, crushing, with his huge carcass, the already injured legs and lower extremities of the unfortunate hunter. In spite of the pain he was enduring, the old man, raising himself on his elbow, grimly surveyed his conquered foe : " You've the worst of it, though you nearly did for me, I own," he exclaimed, nodding his head ; " but a miss is as good as a mile, and when I'm free of you, maybe I'll sup off your hump." 18 BOB KIXON, : t To liberate himself from the monster's carcass was, however, no easy task, injured as he was already by his fall, and by the weight of the buffalo pressing on him. He made several attempts, but the pain was very great, and he found that his strength was failing him. While resting, before making another attempt to move, he per- ceived his poor horse, whose convulsive struggles showed how much he had been in- jured. On looking round, also, he discov- ered that the accident had taken place in a slight hollow, which, shallow as it was, shut him out from the view of his companions, who were now pursuing the remainder of the herd at a considerable distance from where he lay. Again and again he tried to drag his injured limbs from beneath the buffalo. He had never given in while con- sciousness remained, and many were the ac- cidents which had happeaed to him during his long hunter's life. Would he give in "MMiffitMS: THE OLD WHITE TRAPPER. 19 now? **No, not I," he muttered; "Rob Nixon is not the boy for that." At length, however, his spirit succambed to bodily suf- fering, and he sank back exhausted and fainting, scarcely conscious of what had happened, or where he was. Had he re- tained sufficient strength to fire his rifle he might have done so, and summoned some of the hunters to his assistance; but he was unable even to load it, so it lay useless by his side. Thus he remained; time passed by — no one approached him — the sun sank in the horizon— darkness came on. It ap* peared too probable that the fate of many a hunter in that vast prairie would be his. How long he had remained in a state of stupor he could not tell-; consciousness returned at length, and, revived by the cool air of night, he sat up and gazed about him. The stars had come out and were shining brilliantly overhead, enabling him to see to the extent of his limited horizon. The dead buffalo 20 BOB NIXON, still pressed on his legs — a hideous night- mare ; his horse lay near, giving vent to his agony in piteous groans, and every iiow and then making an attempt to rise to his feet. " My poor mustang, you are in a bad way, I fear,'' said the hunter, in a tone of commiser- ation, forgetting his own sufferings; "I would put an end to thy misery, and so render thee the only service in my power, but that I cannot turn myself to load my rifle. Alack I alack ! we shall both of us ere long be food for the wolves ; but, though I must meet my fate as becomes a man, I would save you — ^poor, dumb brute that you are — ^from being torn by their ravenous fangs while life remains in you." Such were the thoughts which passed through the hunter's mind, for it can scarcely be said he spoke them aloud. He would probably again have relapsed into a state of stupor, but that a hideous howl, borne by the night breeze, reached THE OLD WHITB TRAPPEB. 21 his ears. " Wolves 1" he exclaimed ; " ah I I know you, you brutes." The howl was repeated again and again, its increased loudness, showing that the creatures were approaching. The well-known terrible sounds roused up the old hunter to make renewed exertions to extricate himself. This time, by dint of dragging himself out with his arms, he succeeded in getting his feet from under the bufifalo; but he then dis- covered, to his dismay, that his thigh had either been broken, or so severely sprained by his fall, that to walk would be impos- sible. He managed, however, to load his rifle. Scarcely had he done so when the struggles of his horse reminded him of the pain the poor animal was suffering. Al- though he knew that every charge of powder in his flask would be required for his own defence, he did not hesitate in per- forming the act of mercy which the case re- quired. He uttered no sentimental speech, 22 ROB NIXON, tbongh a pang of grief passed throngh his heart as he pointed the weapon at the horse's head. His aim was true, and ^the noble animal fell dead. ^^ He's gone ; not long before me, I guess," he muttered, as he reloaded his piece. " Those brutes will find me out, there is no doubt about that ; but I'll have a fight first — Rob Nixon will die game." The old hunter drew a long knife from a sheath at his side, and, deliberately examining its point, placed it on the ground near him while he reloaded his rifie. Thus did the old man prepare for an inevitable and dreadful death, as he believed ; yet not a prayer did he offer up, not a thought did he cast at the future. Eternity, heaven, and hell, were matters unknown ; or, if once* known, long since forgotten. Yet forgetfnl- ness of a fact will not do away with it. They are awful realities, and will assuredly be found such, however much men may strive to banish them from their thoughts. THE OLD WHITE TRAPPEB. 23 The young especially are surprised to hear that old men have forgotten what they learned in their youth, that they neglect to pray, to read the Bible, to think about God and their own souls ; but let them be as- sured that if once they give up the habit of praying, of studying God's holy Word, of obeying His commands, there is one ever ready to persuade them that there is no harm in this neglect ; that it will save them much trouble ; and that it is far more manly to neglect prayers, to be irreligious and profane, than to love, serve, and obey their Maker. A downward course is sadly easy ; let them beware of taking the first step. Each step they take in the wrong di- rection they will find it more and more diflBcult to recover, till, like the old hunts- man, they' will cease to care about the matter, and God will no longer be in their thoughts. There lay that old man on the wild prairie, a melancholy spectacle, — not 24 SOB inxoN, 80 much that he was surrounded by dangers — that he was wounded and crippled — that wild beasts were near him — that, if he escaped their fangs, starvation threatened him, — but that he had no hope for the future— that he had no trust in God — that he had not laid hold of the means of salvation. As Rob Nixon lay on the ground, support- ing his head on his arm, he turned his gaze round and round, peering into the darkness to watch for any thing moving near him. He knew that before the sun set his Indian comrade© would have carried off the flesh from the buffaloes they had killed, and that after that they would move their camp to a distance, no one being likely to return. He probably would not be missed for some time, and, when missed, it would be supposed that he had fallen into the hands of the Salteux, or Ojibways, the hereditary enemies of their nation, and / THE OLD WHITE TBAPPER. 25 that already his scalp had been carried off as a trophy by those hated foes. ** They'll revenge me, that's one comfort ; and the Ojibways will got paid for wliat the wolves have done." These were nearly the last thoughts which passed through the brain t of the old hunter, as the howls and yelps of the wolves, which had formed a dreadful concert at a distance around him, approached still nearer. "I guessed the vermin wouldn't be long in finding me out," he muttered; and, on looking up, he saw through the darkness, glaring fiercely down on him from the edge of the hollow in which he lay, the eyes of a pack of wolves. " I'll stop the howling of some of you," he exclaimed, lifting his rifle. There was no cry ; but a gap in the circle of eyes showed that a wolf had fallen, and in- stantly afterwards the loud barking and yelp- ing proved that the savage creatures were tearing their companion to pieces. This gave time to the old man to reload and to 26 BOB NIXON, pick off another wolf. In thk manner he killed several, and, though he did not drive them away, they were prevented from ap- proaching nearer. On finding that such was the case, his hopes of escaping their fangs rose slightly, at the same time that the lightness of his powder-flask and bullet- bag told him that his ammunition would soon fail, and that then he would have his hunting-knife alone on which to depend. He accordingly waited, without again firing, watching his foes, who continued howling and wrangling over the bodies of their fel- lows. Now and then one would descend a short way into the hollow, attracted by the scent of the dead horse and buffalo, but a sudden shout from the old hdnter kept the intruders at a respectful distance. He was well aware, however, that should exhausted nature for one instant compel him to drop asleep, the brutes would be upon him, and tear him limb from limb. Thus the hours THE OLD WHITE TRAPPER. 27 of the night passed slowly along. Many men would have succumbed ; but, hardened by a long life of danger and activity, Robert Nixon held out bravely, in spite of the pain, and thirst, and hunger from which he was suffering. Never for one moment was his eye off his enemies, while his fingers were on the trigger ready to shoot the first which might venture to approach. More than once he muttered to himself, "It must be near morning, and then these vermin will take themselves off, and let me have some rest. Ah, rest ! that's the very thing I have been wanting," he continued ; " it's little enough I've ever had of it. I've been working away all my life, and where's the good I've got out of it ? There's been something wrong, I suppose, but I can't make it out. Rest I Yes, that's it. I should just like to find my- self sitting in my lodge among a people who don't care, like these Dakotahs, to be always fighting or hunting ; but they are not a bad 28 BOB inxoN,