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Lorsqua ia document ast trap grand pour ttra raprodult ^n un saul clich4, II ast filmA i partir da I'angla supiriaur gaucha, da gaucha k droita. at da haut 9n bas. an pranant la nombra d'imagas nAcassaira. Las diagrammas suivants illustrant la mAthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 / -Sf ^^(xf( 'hV\\^ o {n( \c5^-'^ /S-^^v,^*- ( / / / >] 9 . - Pn ^rA'^, '/■ P V ; <' cry / /V^r KUPEET AND SIMCLA. THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST OR ADVENTURES AMONG THE REDSKINS BT ERNEST R. SUPPLING Al'THOR OF " THE LAND OF THB BROADS," " AFLOAT IN A OIPSV VAN," " THE STORY HUNTKR," ETC., ETC. ILLUSTRATED LONDON : FREDERICK WARNE AND CO. AND NEW YORK. 1896. \AH rightt reserved."} sq H6^ ham^N.^ BW. ^k «F E.^o^B^'W PREFACE. That boys are strange beings none will care to deny : Restless and buoyant as the waves on the sea, they are ever on the move, and, like the sea, if they lose their movement they lose one of their chief characteristics and become dull, flat, and uninteresting. To them movement is a necessity of life, and all they engage in must have vigour and dash, or it will inevit- ably be rejected as too slow and monotonous for their delectation. I know the British boy, his likes and dislikes; and I know the kind of books he loves, and why he appre- ciates them. Every page must carry him forward and contain its store of interest, without long pages of de- scription and sentimental platitude before he arrives at the gist of what is about to happen. Oh, he is an impatient fellow, is the English boy, and does not like to be held unduly in suspense while the story drags its slow length wearily along. Why does he love "Robinson Crusoe"? Because every page brings something strange and adventurous belore him. Why is " Masterman Ready " in favour with him P Because its movement is continuous. And so with all his favourite books, adventure follows adventure, and seldom a dull page confronts him; there is almost an entire absence of the platitudes, long conversations and mental 2274'59 viii PREFACE, literary food wbich his father and mother and grown-up brothers and sisters so relish in the works of the leading novelists. Very well ; knowing, as I do, the temperament of the ever-rising generation, I have endeavoured to conjure from my ink-vase and my brain, a story that shall be full of adventures of a thrilling nature (without overstepping the bounds of moderation and probability), of a kind that contains nothing hurtful to the young mind ; one shorn of all conversation, except where absolutely necessary to explain the meaning of certain events, and one that, while it shows that courage and energy are traits to be admired, also goes far to prove that truth, sincerity, and magnani- mity should also form integral parts in the composition of the character of the boys of Great Britian. Ernest R. Suffling. BliOXFISLD LODOB, P0BT8DOWN Road, W. Midwmmer, 1896. To MY Readers. N.B. — Might I suggest the advisability of having an Atlas handy when reading this story, as by so doing the locality of the numerous places will the more readily be fixed in the mind, and the narrative will be better appre- ciated. The reader armed with an Atlas will thus kill two birds with one stone — he will be more entertained with the book and at the same time receive a good and lasting lesson in geography. £. It. S. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. I>AOB The Return of Th4 Hunter.— A Beautiful Town.— Village Rejoic- ings. — "William Doone of Fowey. — Baggage Ashore. — The Two Brothers 1 CHAPTER II. The Captain's Surprise.-~Ruth.— A Retrospect of David Rose and William Doone. — A Thirty-five Thousand Miles' Voyage pro* jeoted and safely acoomplidied.— A Glance at the Far West 12 CHAPTER III. Doone's Dilemma. — He takes CouncU. — The Cargo of The Hunter.- The Convoy to London. — Rupert's Ride .... 21 CHAPTER IV. The Fur Convoy Starts. — The Conversation on Dartmoor.— A Start- ling Proposal.— Its Acceptance. — The Land Pirates at the Inn. — Fallen among Thieves. — Nineteen, Twenty ! — A Lucky Shot. —The Furs Sold 25 CHAPTER V. Springtime.— 7%« Hunter refitted.— A Glance at her Stores.— Her Cargo.— The Plan of Campaign.— 7A« H\mter sails ... 39 CONTENTS, CHAPTER VI. PAOB Pass the Gape Verdes. — Crossing the Line. — Pemambuco. — ^Donna Anneta. — Tumbling round the Horn. — Valdivia. — The all- fitting Poncho. — Socarro Islands. — ^The Pirate Vessel. — Suspi- cious Questions. — Preparing for a Tussle. — A Stubborn Fight. — A Terrible Carnage. — Despair of the " Hunters." — A Strange Explosion.— Victory ! But How P 46 CHAPTER VII. Repairs to Ship and Crew. — ^The Story of Robert Belton. — His Early Life and Voyages. — Truxillo. — Captured by the Poyaia Indians. — Dusky Jacilla. — The Pirates Executed. — An Escape. — ^Visit to Agent No. 1. — ^The Tashtel Indians. — Their Dress, Appearance, and Mode of Living. — Bartering for Peltries . 69 CHAPTER VIII. A Pull up Eel River to find Agent No. 2.— An Indian Fort.— The Wounded Men. — Camp Cookery. —A Night Attack. — A Parley. — The Shadow of the Spear. — ^A Hand-to-hand Fight. — Trading a Failure 81 CHAPTER rX. Umpqua Head. — Oom-pa-nu greets the White Men. — Invitation to a Sea-Otter Hunt. — Notes on the Animal. — Four Modes of Cap- ture. — The Hunt. — ^A Feast. — ^Mrs. Doone and Ruth introduced to Indian Life 92 CHAPTER X. Up the Umpqua River. — Fort Cornwall and Fowey Pool described. — First Trip Ashore. — A Successful Day. — ^The Fort and Store commenced. — The Hunter Sails 102 CHAPTER XI. The Building Proceeds. — A Surprise Party of Klamaths. — ^Another of Tacons and Umpquas. — A Description of them and their Bidarkies. — Bighorn Mutton. — A Canoe Expedition. — A Snug Camp. — The Hunter ioixxnA. 112 CONTENTS, XI CHAPTER XII. PAoa Mystery.— Land Pirates. — Stalking a Camp. — The Signal. — A Battle.— The Fate of Captain Rose.— A Cave Dwelling.— Tug of War. — Wrestling. — Friends meet. — A Bear Adventare. — A Madman in a Canoe. — At Death's Door. — Work on the Island 124 CHAPTER XIII. A Novel Means of Signalling.— The Remnants of a Crew.— A Tragic Story. — A Peaceful Beginning ends in a Kick. — A Threat of Revenge. — Danger apprehended. — The Chief gives a Signal. — A Fearful Fight aginst Odds.— Death of both Red and White Chiefs.— A Dash for Life. — The White Man's Revenge and Heroic Death 147 CHAPTER XIV. Escape in the Longboat. — A Terrible Sea. — A Sad Predicament. — A Cave Sanctuary. — Fire from a Pistol. — ^The Dead Seal. — The Interpreter's Death. — The Tramp commenced. — A Cudgel brings Food. — Lost in the Wilderness. — Despair. — Red Men to the Rescue. — Home ! 157 CHAPTER XV. The Tenants of the Fort — A Western Hurricane. — The Bidarlde Overset. — Doones to the Rescue. — Two Clatsops drowned. — A Strange Burial.— Constructing a Bidarkie. — Felling a Giant Trc3. — Some Artistic Carving and Weird Painting . . .166 CHAPTER XVI. A Grand Hunting Expedition. — Canoes carried Sixty Miles. — Queer Umbrellas. — Source of the Williamette. — A Callapu/a Ceme- tery. — The Callapuya Village. — A Shot in the Dark. — A Fine Breakfast. — The Ahsahta or Bighorn. — Washing Sheep. — A Fall. — The Grizzly Bear described and encountered. — A Novel Weapon. — Flight. — An Uncomfortable Night.— The Bear in his Lair. — The Pit of Death entered.— Bruin's Fight and Defeat.— A Deer Drive. — A Fine Day's Sport. — The Hunt concluded . 179 Xll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVII. PAOB Back to the Lake.— A Callapuya Dinner-Party. — The Stolen Deer- Skins. — A Skirmish. — The Village Fired.— Afloat again. — An Ambush. — Stalking the Bobbers. — An Indian Game. — ^The Gamblers Interrupted. — "Pay back the Arrow." — Woimded remain at Source of Williamette. — Scalps and their Prepara- tion.— The Scalp Dance.— Its Terrible EflEeot . . . .201 CHAPTER XVIII. TheClatsops and Klamaths leave for their Summer Quarters.— Kiss- ing Painted Faces. — Presents. — A Garden made. — Wild Goose- berries and Currants. — Swimming the Pool.— The Candle Fish. — Salmon Season. — Netting. — Spearing and Curing Salmon for Winter 214 CHAPTER XIX. A Signal of Distress. — Mrs. Doone in Bed. — Ruth and her Mother as Huntresses. — Indians. — Ruth Fires. — So does Mrs. Doone. — She Conquers but Falls. — Callapuya Threats . . .223^ CHAPTER XX. The Fort in Danger. —Primitive Scaling Ladders. — The First Assault Unsuccessful. — K'nick-K'neck. — The Defenders in Council. — The Mines. — Another Attack. — A Holocaust. — The Wounded oared for.— The Flatheads depart , 229^ CHAPTER XXI. Beautiful Scenery of the West.— The Acorn Harvest. — Bread from Acorn Meal. — Bartering. — ^A Ludicrous Incident nearly turns to a Serious One. — The Furs in Store increase. — Races. — Perfect Basket-weaving. — Nick-nacks of all Kinds. — **Wokas." — A Temasoal. — A Premeditated Pilgrimage 23^ CONTENTS. XUl CHAPTER XXII. PAOB Programme of a Pilgrimage to Yerba Buena. — The Quartette start. — Up the Umpqua. — The Camp. — A Simple Mode of Carrying Gk)ods. — Sport in the Klamath Region. — The Tul^. — Towards the Sea in Canoes. — An Earthly Eden. — Farewell to the Kla- maths 250 CHAPTER XXIII. Mount Shasta District. — Caught in a Strange Valley. — The Cave with a Hole through it. — The Cougar.— Food at Last. — Raw Mutton. — A Bullet Ballot. — Bernard's Adventure. — A Sfrange Rope. — Out of the Vale of Despair. — Fire, the Friend of Man . 258 CHAPTER XXrV. Fertility and Plenty once more. — A Peep at the History of Cali- fornia. — Califomian Indians. — Their Food. — Burial Customs.— The Sacramento.— The Wish-Ton-Wish.- Spanish Cruelty 266 CHAPTER XXV. Down the Sacramento. — A Stranger hails. — Suspicions aroused. —They make Tracks.- Hands Up !— Simola's Flight.— Closely watched. — A Friend in Need. — A Desperate Struggle.— Death of the Pirate Chief. — The Interpreter Hero. — A Laconic Epi- taph. — Afloat again 276 CHAPTER XXVI. Friendly Reeds. — Loads of Scamps. — Peacefully gliding Southward. — A Village Physician. — Gold ! — Aboard a Native Craft. — Terba Buena. — Tho Krate Schooner still in Port. — " Harbour Dues." — Overhauling the Prize. — Home Again. — Joy and Sorrow . 286 XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTEfl XXVIT. PAGE Refitting the New Vessel. — Metamorphosis of the Blue Belle, — Ready to Sail. — What shall become of Fort Cornwall ? — Haste to the Wedding. — Ra-ta-pal Disconsolate. — Kamsla Satisfied. — The Wedding Feast. — Mexicans Disliked. — Don Miguel again.— A Trip for Gold 292 CHAPTER XXVIII. Homeward Bound. — A Gale. — Juan Fernandez. — They Land on the Real Crusoe's Island. — A Tramp over Historic Ground. — Wild Fruits. — Crayfish. — Manner of Capture. — Mount Tunque. — Sleep Ashore. — Farewell. — Magellan Straits threaded. — Monte Video 300 CHAPTER XXIX. Pemambuco again. — Christening the Goats. — Cupid abroad. — Cap- tain Bedford and Anneta. — Verde Island Oranges. — The Portu- guese Sailors landed. — Nearing Home. — The Lizard sighted. — Fowey reached. — The Return brings both Joy and Sorrow . 309 . ~ CHAPTER XXX. A Bazaar opened. — The Last Council of War. — ]Mr. Doone speaks. His Liberality. — A Present for Each. — Belton's Live Present. Wedding Bells.— The End of the Yam .... 316 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. RUPBBT AND SiMOLA " I BADE THE LANDLORD'S DaXTOHTEB GoOD EvENINO " "Faeewkll, deab Anneta; Adieu!" . The Fioht with the Fibatb .... The Fbisonebs webe bbouoht fobtb fob Tobtitbe OOM-PA-Nir INTBODUCED HIS FAVOUBITE SqTTAW FOBT COBNWALL AND MaP OF DiSTBICT . Theib tjnexpected Appeaeanoe tubned the Tide Ra-PA-TAL OITAEDINO THE MOXJTH OF THE CaVE The Boys assiditoxtsly pbactised Shoottnq . The Clatsop Canoe was completely smashed Blessino the Relatives of the dead Men . They webe soon on the Tbail of the Beab Quietly dbawino his Knife .... The excited Huntebs scbambled down the Rocks They pboceeded cabefully in Indian File . The Tbio paddled by Ha-pa-tal and Bab-me-no The Stockade was a complete Ruin Bebnabd tbyino on Indian Faint . Made a mighty Stab at the flying .^Vnimal JvAN Febnandez: a Nioht Ashobe OF Battle PAOR Frontispiece . 35 . 52 . 59 . 90 . 99 . 113 . 128 . 135 . 145 . 169 . 173 . 193 . 197 . 205 . 207 . 217 . 236 . 245 . 271 . 305 ^ C^e Jfur ^rivtrcrs of i^t Wit$t CHAPTER I. The Rsturo of The Hunter.— h Beautiful Town.— Village Rejoicings. —William Doone of Fowej. — Baggage Ashore. — The Tvro Brothers. It was a brigbt, breozy day, towards the end of October, in the very year that Victoria, our gracious young Queen, commenced her happy reign, that a small, but excited, crowd o£ vilhigers had gathered upon the little stone quay at the quaint old port of Fowey, in Cornwall. It was the second occasion in one year that an event of importance had been bruited through the village, and the inhabitants were all agog with excitement. The first event had been the death of King William, the news of whose decease had reached the quiet little humdrum village in less than a week ; which was quick work sixty years since, when there were no telegraph wires to flash the doleful news through the length and breadth of the land with lightning celerity. The first event, the decease of the King, was a national event, but the present excitement, which was of such interest to the village, was of local importance only — it was the home-coming of Cap- tain David Rose in his trim little schooner. The Hunter, Two years since the gallant Captain had left port, with a very miscellaneous cargo, upon a trading voyage to the u a THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST western coast of North America, to try his luck at barter- ing for bear robes, beaver, otter, deer, and other peltries. It was a tremendously long a.id hazardous voyage for a man to undertake, but Captaiil Rose was of iron nerve and unflinching resolution, and being owner as well as skipper, with neither wife nor children to give him anxiety, he had staked his all in this one big adventure to the far West. As he stepped on board to commence his voyage, his remark to a friend had been, " I leave Fowey in debt to no man, and take away not a single penny piece from the port that would be missed if anything occurred to me. The ship is mine, the cargo is mine, and the hope of a prosperous voyage is mine also, and if God so wills it, I shall be back in two years with a valuable assortment of peltries ; but should a disaster happen to The Hunter^ why, it will be like clapping an extinguisher over a candle — it will be * Good-night to you, David Rose, and farewell to bonny Fowey.' " Let us just peep at the little town and see what it is like. Along the southern coast of Cornwall, between West Looe and Mevagissey, the line of clifPs attain a consider- able elevation, rising and falling like huge Atlantic rollers. Between two of these massive granite clifPs, which rise like giants sheer from the sea, is the entrance to Fowey Haven (as the estuary is called), and a more fitting title could not be given it, for the great guardian cliffs completely shelter it from the prevailing, blustering winds. One usually associates the word estuary with a broad open space of water having low-lying land around it, and so exposed, that the heavy winter seas may come rolb'ng in without let or hindrance from the surrounding shores. But it is not so with Fowey, for the entrance is g:' FOWEY. 80 narrow, that however fiercely the storm may rage upon the main, it is all peaceful and comparative calm within. It may hlow great guns out at sea, but open boats are in no danger in this sheltered estuary. We cannot wonder, therefore, that, in days gone by, it was one of the principal ports in the west of England ; and when the dreaded Armada threatened our shores, sent out quite a formidable fleet to help to oppose and scatter the Spanish dons in their Invincible fleet. Coming to more recent times, is there ary wonder that it was the chosen haunt of many smuggling vessels? Captains watching the private signals from the bold head- lands at the entrance to the harbour, could pop in and out at all states of the tide and weather. In those times Fowey wasalight among fishing ports, but her radiance has now departed, the tall candle of prorperity has waned, leaving but a little flickering spark to show where once flashed forth the rays which helped to sustain Elizabeth on her throne, and gain for her seafaring sons the sobriquet of " Gallants of Fowey." There still remain the great entrance hills and the lovely pool of glittering water, into whose upper end the river Fowey glides, and crossing the haven loses itself in the sea beyond. There still stands the old church, contemplating from its prominent position the beauties of its surroundings. It has looked down for several centuries on the fortunes of the. little town at its feet, but never, it is feared, will it witness such stirring sc -nes and thrilling times, as when the Maiden Queen held sway in Merry England three- hundred years ago. The once long quay is but a fragment of its former self, and much of it has ceased to exist since the great ware- THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST, houses which formerly lined it gradually disappeared with the diminishing trade, till nothing remains but a pleasant sleepy little village, mustering but a few hundred inhabi- tants, whose cottages and houses line the western acclivity of the haven. Notwithstanding its great past to look back upon, Fowey still retains one of its features intact, and that is its beautv. Clean, white-fronted houses, its fine old church, the deep blue pool, the hills, the profusion of foliage and flowers, forest trees, and healthy shrubs, several smart trading vessels and a few tarry fishing vessels rocking idly near the quay, all go to make it, even among Cornish villages, a spot which lingers in the memory of visitors to ancient Lvoncssc. On the October morning in question, Captain Rose's vessel had been sighted in the offing, and like wildfire the news quickly spread through the village, and every one was agog to sec the gallant skipper once more ; for he was very popular among the people, and when at home was sure to be first and foremost in anything that happened to be on the local tapu. Many of the younger fishermen and lads had scrambled up to the top of the headland, upon which a signal pole was erected, and this they had dressed with bunting from the truck to the ground at the four cardinal points, so that there was a most extensive show of bunting to greet Tito Huutcr as she sailed into port, after safely accom- plishing her round voyage of thirty-five thousand miles. Flags were displayed on the vessels in the harbour and on the quay, while from the open windows of the houses, poles bearing bunting or coloured material were lavishly displayed. From the summit of the church tower waved a large royal standard, just as it may have fluttered many THE " FEU DE JOIE:' % generations ago, when the gallants of Fowey returned from the fleet which had been in chase of the Armada. As the weather-worn ship, with her patched sails, showed herself at the entrance to the haven, the people set up a hearty cheer, and the church bells rang out with a merry peal, for the vicar was a warm friend of Captain Rose, and willingly gave his consent for the village ringers to welcome home their brave townsman. On the quay there was quite a stir among the bustling throng, for the village lads had brought down two very ancient cannon, so old that no one knew how thev came into Cornwall, they were of foreign make, and may have formed part of the armament of the Armada. The young rascals had mounted these obsolete cannon upon a couple of fish barrows, and having attached ropes, brought their ordnance through the village at full speed, yelling at the top of their voices as they ran, and scattering the people to left and right. At the quay side they halted and loaded, and at a signal two stalwart brothers named Doone applied red hot irons from the smith's forge to the touch-holes, and bang they went, sending out volumes of smoke ;,ud enough noise to frighten the whole town and awoken the neigh- bouring hills till they echoed again. There was a bustle on The Hunter^s deck, near the waist, and in a couple of minutes came an answering salute from her four brass six -pounders ; these reports were so unexpected that they quite scared the people, who for the moment had forgotten that firing is a game two can play at. As The Hunter neared the quay, many of those who had friends or relations on board could contain themselves no longer, they wanted to grasp the brave fellows once more by the hand, and the time between the ship entering i $ THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. the headlands to the momcut she should drop anchor was too long for many of them to wait, so springing into boats they pushed off from the quay, and boarded her as she slowly and gracefully bore up the channel. As the vessel neared the quay, willing hands helixjd the bronzed sailors to furl the sails that had so safely wafted the good ship across two oceans, and borne her crew back to their loved ones at home. The young fishermen sprang like monkeys up the shrouds, and in a very few minutes the gallant Hunter was snugly berthed alongside the quay. Such a hcene then took place, as only these who have participated in the like can sympathetically describe. Parted for two years, with thousands of miles of angry sea between them, the reunion of husbands and wives, fathers and children, brothers and sisters, was a touching sight to witness. Such hugging and kissing ; such joy ; such beaming countenances, and such streaming eyes are seldom seen. Some of the poor women actually could not find words with which to greet their loved ones ; their joy utterly choked them. Many of the smaller children had not seen their fathers for so long a time that they did not quite know them, neither were the fathers quite sure of their little ones, for there is a vast difference between a youngster in arms and a little fellow of three trotting about in breeches I It was indeed a happy return ; as, of a crew of twenty hands all told, not one was missing, and even the cabin boy who had sailed away a thin lad of sixteen, had re- turned a strong, '^turdy young man, a credit to his mother, who quite embarrassed him with her loving embraces and hearty kisses. Captain Rose was surrounded by a host of friends, who all wanted to shake hands and congratulate him at the same time. Questions were fired at him in r: WILLIAM DOONE, 7 volleys ; in fact, he was completely stormed, and not only stormed, but actually carried by assault, for kick as he might, his townsmen raised him on their shoulders and bore him ashore as a prize. Ho was a big powerful fellow, but a single man in the hands of a dozen sturdy fishermen is helpless, so he allowed himself, willy nilly, to be carried to the village inn, where he was placed on his feet and a speech demanded. Like the hero that he was, he complied, first ordering a barrel of ale to be brought out on the little green and broached, that all might pledge his safe return in a bumper. The abstemious Cornishmen were only too pleased to have the opportunity, and as the horn mugs circulated the Captain mounted a settle by the inn door, and for a whole hour held forth to the good-tempered crowd, who lustily cheered the recital of his various adventures. Having spoken himself nearly hoarse, he presently leaped from his vantage post, and, rushing forward, em- braced a tall gentleman, who at that moment walked quietly up. The new comer was the Captain's old school- fellow and former trading partner, William Doone. As they stood, hand in hand, they looked the very picture of vigorous manhood, both of them typical English- men in every respect. Captain Rose was rather above the average height, of powerful build, thick set and massive, with a large, tawny beard, bronzed visage, and two good- humoured blue eyes. William Doone was about the same age as the Captain, that is, about forty, but much taller, standing six feet one in his stockings ; he was not particularly broad, but had a fine, deep chest, and long muscular limbs, which, by their easy swing, showed great strength. He was dark, and simply wore a moustache, the rest of his face being 8 TJIE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST, \ clean shaven. His dark skin showed off his fine set of teeth, which were often exposed by reason of his gay humour and jocular manners. The two men, arm in arm, made their way slowly along the quay, the Captain stopping frequently to receive the congratulations of his friends (who came from their houses as he passed), and, leaving the little town behind, con- tinued about half a mile along the side of the estuary, when, ascending a slight acclivity which gave a fine view over the water, they stopped at the gate of a pretty little house nearly surro^mded by an orchard, upon the boughs of some of the trees in which the golden apples still nodded to the breeze. As the two friends chatted up the pathway, the door of the house was thrown open, and out stepped Mrs. Doone, her face wreathed in smiles, and both hands extended to welcome the wanderer home. Then, holding him at arms' length, she scanned him from head to foot, exclaiming : " Now, wait a moment, David, let me see if it really is you. Yes, it is indeed ; you great, brawny giant. Stoop down," and, throwing her arms round his neck, she saluted him with several hearty kisses, for they were brother and sister. Then, linking her arms through those of her husband and brother, they walked happily towards the house, the exuberance of their joy making their coun- tenances radiant with delight. " But where are the boys, William ? — and where is my pretty little Ruth ? " asked the skipper. ** Ruth," replied Mrs. Doone, " has gone to spend the day at St. Austell, but will be home by eight o'clock, as she will return with old Trereen the carrier. But surely you have seen the boys ? " THE TWO BROTHERS. "■ No," said the skipper. " I rather expected they would have been the first to leap aboard The Jltinter, but so far I have not even seen them." ** I can account for them," said Mr. Doone rising, " they would have been the first to greet you, David, but knowing there would be a rush to board you they kept ashore, and it was they who welcomed you with the salute from the old cannon as you came alongside the quay. Knowing you would have the whole town at you, I sent them off on a certain little business w^hich should by this time be about conclude^.." Going to the door he gazed down the pathway towards the village, and presently his face brightened up as he exclaimed — " Yes, here they come, and, by jove, deeply laden too. Now keep your seat, David, for I expect the boys will think you are sf'Il in the town, so it will be a pleasant little surprise for them to find you here at anchor." ' In a few minutes the sound of happy voices and a great deal oi heavy breathing and puffing was heard. The sounds proceeded from the boys toiling up the pathway, carrying something heavy between them. Then came a cheery " Dad, give us a hand here, will you ? we've brought a whole houseful of furniture on our backs, and goodness knows what besides." Mr. Doone stepped outside and burst into laughter, which was the signal for the skipper and ^Mrs. Doone to rush to the door also to see what was in the wind. There were Rupert and Bernard, rer two sons, nearly hidden by the number of articles they were carrying ; they had been to the ship and brought Uncle David's belongings with them. They had brought his bedding, his canvas clothes-kit, and his old wicker-chair, which 10 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. they had unscrewed from the cabin floor. In this old chair the skipper sat when he wished to be on the alert, and could not afford more than an hour or two's slumber ; if he turned into his berth he found it too comfortable, and slept heavily, but if he sat down in the old wicker- chair, which was so pliable that it gave with the rolling motion of the ship, he was ready to jump up, dressed as he was, and rush upon deck. Besides these cumbersome articles, they had each a basket ; one filled with eggs and butter, and the other with groceries, so that they were, as Mr. Doone had remarked, " heavily laden." When the boys caught sight of their uncle's burly figure in the doorway, they, with one accord, dropped their respective loads in the pathway, except the egg basket, which Mrs. Doone luckily secured before its con- tents had been converted into a deplorable mess of butter and broken eggs. The meeting between the boys and their uncle was indeed a hearty one, and as he grasped each lad by the hand he could not help congratulating them on their smart looks, for, during his absence, Rupert had developed into a very fine young man, and Bernard was also bidding fair to grow into a fine lad in another year or two. Rupert, who was now nearly twcD**'^, was like his father, tall and dark ; there was " just a tathom of him," as his uncle put it, nnd his daily exercises of rowing and swimming had so developed his muscles that he promised in a year or two to become as strong as his father. He already had the frame, and only wanted to fill out and " furnish," as it is termed, to make hxm an unusually fine young fellow. He had dark hair, and intelligent LIFE A yOKE. II dark brown eyes, while his nose being slightly curved, gave him somewhat the appearance of a gipsy. Strange to say, his brother Bernard was rather fair, having light hair and blue eyes. He was just turned seventeen, and of a sturdy figure, thicker set than his brother, but not so tall by four inches ; but, as he said, " Give me time, and I will eat plenty of pudding till I catch up with Rue. I have four years yet to grow, and surely I can do an inch a year ! " He was fond of wrestling, and had won several prizes for lads. In temperament there was a great deal of difference between the lads. Rupert was somewhat inclined to look too seriously at his surroundings, while Bernard was quite the reverse, taking everything in a humorous manner, always trying to see how much fun could be squeezed out of everything that came before him. His life was a con- tinuous laugh, and, as he affirmed, " he was born laugh- ing, meant to laugh through life, and hoped he might be found with a smile on his countenance when his last hour came. >> Such were Rupert and Bernard Doone ; and now let us see what followed the greeting. CHAPTER II. The Captain's Surprise. — Ruth. — A Retrospect of David Rose and William Doone. — A Thirty-five Thousand Miles Voyage projected and safely accomplished. — A Glance at the Far West. The lads carried the goods and chattels up to the house, and placing the wicker-chair in the sun, in a snug sheltered corner, they seated their uncle on the " throne," as they termed it, and having brought out four other chairs, the party formed an audience to listen to the, skipper's yarns of a two years' voyage. / Hundreds of questions were put and answered ; then it occurred to Rupert that it would be better to wait until Ruth came home in the evening before asking the skipper to spin them the yarn through from beginning to end. This was agreed to, and what with chatting, comparing notes, eating and drinking, inspecting the pigs, and perambulating the garden, the time soon slipped by and eight o'clock arrived, at which hour Ruth was expected home. y All evidence of the return of Captain Rose was care- fully hidden from sight, and he himself was spirited away to a lumber room, while the rest awaited impatiently for Ruth's return. At last her footsteps were heard as she came up the path- way, but instead of coming in at the door they heard her proceed to the window, through which she was evidently peeping to obtain a glimpse of Uncle David ; no one took THE CAPTAIN SCUTTLED. •3 the slightest notice, and presently she hurst into the room with, " Well, mother, I am disappointed ! why the news has reached St. Austell that The Hmiter and her crew have returned safely to Fowey, and I have been so excited at expecting to find Uncle David here, that I have not eaten a morsel since I heard the good news. Oh, mother, I do feel disappointed," and the tears stood in her pretty eyes, telling of her love for her uncle. Poor Ruth sat down and did not appear at all herself, and her brothers began to tease her, asking why she heeded every little bit of gossip she heard. " Why," said Bernard, " uncle may be down among the mermaids at the bottom of the deep blue sea, for what the folk at St. Austell know, and, if so, there will be a nice row in Neptune's camp, for he was always a lady killer, and if " Crash ! Bang ! — and then came strange and excited words from the scullery. Everyone leaped up, and Mrs. Doone, flinging open the door, revealed Uncle David vigorously rubbing his shin with one hand, and his nose with the other. His face was smeared with soot, and his coat covered with flour, but in spite of his wild appear- ance, Ruth sprang into his arms, and very soon she had transferred a part of the soot from her uncle's face to her own. Everyone roared with laughter, and on looking in the glass the gallant skipper joined in the merriment, laugh- ing till the tears coursed down his tanned cheeks. Then he explained how it was he had caused such con- sternation, both to himself and his friends. He left the lumber room, intending to steal across the scullery, and burst into the pnrlour as a surprise to Ruth, but unfor- 14 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. tunately it was he who got the surprise, as he fell over a pile of saucepans and tin ware, which had heen carelessly left by the maid, that she might clean them early in the morning, for in Cornwall but little work is done after dark. He had rather a severe cut on his shin and another on his forehead, but Ruth's nimble fingers were soon busy with scissors and plaster, and the wounds were skilfully dressed. Ruth's usual appetite returned at supper time ; after which meal, in answer to the calls of the boys, the skipper commenced the yarn of his voyage to Oregon. What he said would be much too long to recapitulate, as it took him several evenings before he, as he termed it, " dropped anchor," or in other words brought his narrative up to his arrival in Fowey Haven. We will, however, summarise the principal items of his voyage, and with a few incidental remarks concerning both him and Mr. Doone, place the reader in possession of several facts that are necessary for him to know, so that he may grasp the why and wherefore of many things in this veracious story. Each evening during the recital of his adventures, a select company of friends and neighbours were present, and most cheerful were these gatherings of old friends, who were pleased to listen to the daring stories of adven- tures by sea and land, as told by the gallant Captain Rose. First we will take a retrospective glance. David Rose and William Doone were both bom in Fowey, of an old lineage, for their respective and respected families had resided in tije district for many generations. THE TWO COMRADES. 15 11 over a »f arelessly y in the ne after )ther on 3n busy ikilfully .-1 s; after skipper ^hat he ;» ►ok him Iropped i up to ;eins of erning 3ion of that ags in ires, a ■esent, lends. dven- iptain - 1 m in 1^ 4 and nany As boys they went to school together, first in the little village school, and afterwards to the grammar school at St. Austell, a few miles distant. They were constant companions, sharing the same bed at school, the same lessons, and the same drubbings, for it must be owned that being high-spirited lads they w^re frequently involved in scrapes, both in school and out, which usually ended in a wholesome and just castigation. It must not be sup- posed that they were " bad " boys in the ordinary accep- tance of the term, for they were not ; but they were leaders among their companions, and planned and cap- tained all the little exploits which boys usually indulge in during their happy, callow school-days. If an orchard was to be visited^ Rose and Doone were there ; if a boat had to be captured for an hour or two's fishing, they were in it ; if there was a fight with the town boys, David and "William did not fail to leave their marks on some of the foe. Being thus, like David and Jonathan of old, more as brothers than friends, it is not to be wondered at that when the time arrived for them to leave school, they were apprenticed to the same skipper, and sailed together to many a trading port on the English, Irish, and Welsh coasts. When the lads were out of their time, Rose, who was a better sailor than Doone, became skipper of the Fairy Belkf a small trading schooner ; Doone being engaged on the same vessel as supercargo and factotum. The ship was owned by Mr. Doone, senior, and upon his death, when William was about two-and-twenty, she became his property. David Rose, who was two years older than William, was a very steady, sober young fellow (his school pranks were forgotten), and he quickly simmered down into quite ; THE rUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. the ideal sea captain, frank in manner, reserved in speech, alert, and ever ready to seize any opportunity that pre- sented itself for his own or his employers* advantage. He and Dooue hit it capitally together, and eventually the ship, stores, and cargo became the joint property of the two young men ; for Rose was a saving fellow, and had a little money by him, which, added to certain sums advanced by his friends, provided a sufficient amount for him to purchase a half share in the Fairy Belle. By perseverance, frugality, and a fair share of good fortune, their business affairs prospered ; and by-and-by an event happened which further cemented the ties which bound ithe fortunes of Rose and Doone together ; this was no less than the marriage of William Doone 1o David's only sister, Hetty. And a right happy marriage it was, for Hetty was very fond of her big husband, and managed his home affairs during his absence as if she had been born with a quill pen behind her ear. In due course Rupert was born, then came Bernard, and finally happy, smiHng Ruth ; but then came a day of sadness for the family, for Mrs. Doone, the mother of "William, met with an accident which eventually caused her death. By his mother's death Mr. Doone's mode of life was to a great extent changed, for he now become the owner of a fair- sized farm, which was, however, mortgaged to a considerable extent, and the working of which caused him to spend much more time on land than formerly. Even- tually, after spending nearly twenty years in the coasting trade, he disposed of his half of the venture to Captain Rose, and devoted his time exclusively to his farm and business of ship's chandler. Captain Rose's fair fortune continued for another two A TREMENt)OUS VOYAGE, 17 or three years, till on a certain voyage to Bristol be fell in with a party of Americana, one of whom had been in the fur trade of the Ameiican far West, indeed, he had been in Mr. Aster's service when that gentleman founded the American Fur Company, by establishing a depot, called Astoria, at the mouth of the Columbia River in Oregon. The stories of adventure, and the profits which were to be made by trading with the Indians for furs, fired Cap- tain Rose with the idea of fitting out a veesol and pro- ceeding to the coast of Western America to traffic for furs and peltries with the natives. For six months he worked at the idea, knocking it into practical form, and at last made up his mind to start by fitting out a suitable vessel for the long and perilous voyage of nearly eighteen thousand miles. With Doone's assistance a smart schooner called Tlie Hunter was purchased at Plymouth, and freighted with a cargo of common guns, leaden rods for bullets, coarse gunpowder, blankets, knives, coloured ribbons and tape, needles, looking glasses, linen, iron and tin saucepans, tin goods, and a hundred other "notions" as the Yankees would call them. The fitting out caused a great commotion in the little half-hidden town under the hill ; but one fine day away went The Hunter with her hardy crew, amid the God- speeds of the entire population. To follow the course of Captain Rose and recount his various adventures would take up as much space as the story which follows this introductory matter, so we must content ourselves with a brief epitome of what was done on the voyage out and at home. The run across the Atlantic was uneventful. They put c 18 THE FUR TRADERS 01' THE WEST. in at Baliia for fresh provisions and ran down the South American coast without mishap, till, nearing the Straits of Magellan the weather became somewhat blustering, and in going through the dreaded Straits they lost their mizzen topmast, which broke off at the cap, and falling upon two of the hands injured them severely. They put in at a Peruvian port for a week, while the injured men were attended by a doctor ; fresh water, vegetables, and sheep taken aboard, and a new topmost made and rigged. Then they sailed with favouring breezes northward ; had the usual cases of sunstroke and dysentery while passing through the tropics, and at length, after a voyage of six and a-half months, ariived off the North Californian coast. They ran along the coast slowly, making frequent calls at the mouths of rivers and other likely places for trading ; but found the natives either quarrelsome or in- disposed to barter, the surroundings rocky and dangerous, the locality unsuitable, the entire absence of population, or some other circumstance to cause them to proceed farther, till they came one day to a bold promontory, which from their chart they knew to be Cape Blanco, near the southern extremity of the Oregon coast. Here a heavy westerly gale overtook them, and they drove before it along the coast, fearing hourly that they should be driven on the rugged shore and become a total wreck, but as by stress of weather they were blown dangerously near the shore, they, on the second day of the gale, perceived a tall rugged headland jutting out far into the wild ocean. . , ; Strive as they would, they could not claw out to sea in the teeth of such a gale, and gradually they neared the massive, rocky headland, against which in a short time they would strike, and then, God help every soul of them, STORAf AND CALM. 19 for they were no belter than dead men. Everything that human hands could do had been done, and now they tried what human lips and tongues could do for their salvation. They prayed : and as they prayed their deliverance was shown them, for through the mist they saw, to their joy, a smaller headland nearer to them than the huge one upon which they expected to end their lives. Between these two headlands they could discern certain effects upon the sea which told them that it was the embouchure of a river. Now let the gale blow ; they ran cheerfully before it, and in another hour were safely moored to the lea of the small headland, a mile up the river Umpqua. Here they stayed for several weeks among the friendly Indians, and then cruised as far north as Vancouver's Island, - here they received a great number of sea otter and deer skins in exchange for their trinkets. Up the Columbia River, on their return, they sailed for seventy or eighty miles to where the Willamette River joins the parent stream, and were fairly successful in their negotiations with the natives ; but through the indiscretion of two of the crew, they had to leave the trading port for fear of being massacred. Here they met with several hair-breadth adventures which we cannot record, as these pages will presently be filled with many of even a more startling nature. Back to the Umpqua River they sailed, and ascended it for some forty or fifty miles to where it forks ; one branch going to the west and the main stream to the south. Here, upon an isthmus at the fork of the two rivers, they built a hut, and spent the entire winter ; living in peace with the Indians, whose village stood in a sheltered position on the bank of the main river — the Umpqua proper. In the ensuing spring the Prairie Indians came in with many 20 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. packs of fine furs, which they readily bartered for the curious commodities of the white men. Early in May they set sail for England, and after a voyage of alternate calms and gales, some of which were favourable to their passage, arrived in Fowey, as we have seen, in the following October safe and well. Such is the very brief epitome of the voyage, in which the many most interesting details of adventures and incidents have been purposely omitted, as they are really not part of our story, although connected with it. Sufficient has been stated to convey to the reader a reason for what follows. ClIArTER III. Doone's Diltinma.— He takes Council.— Tlie Cargo of The llimUr.^ The Convoy to London. — Rupert's Bide. When at the end of many convivial evenings the Captain's account of his long voyage came to a close, it became his turn to inquire into the welfare of his old comrade Doone. This he did, and we will now give a short recapitulation of Doone's account of his circumstances. " Well, David, I must tell you frankly, I am not doing at all well. As you know, there is a rather heavy mort- gage on the f 'ir»n ; I have just one hundred acres, and the mortgage amounts to £2,000, for which I have to pay £100 a year as interest. That I can afford, and I pay it as regularly as quarter-day comes round, and am pleased to do so ; but the mortgagee requires his money, and although I have several hundred pounds that I can scrape together, still, I cannot muster more than one-third of the mortgage. " I am in a fix ; I do not wish to sell the farm, which has been in our family for many generations, and I do not like to borrow the money to pay the mortgagee, as I might get into the hands of some sharp person who would, by-and- by, foreclose and sell me up, house, land, and stock. " My present income is ample for my wants, but I have little prospect of saving enough to pay off the mortgage, even if old Mr. Prothero would oblige me by waiting for the money. 3i '"^ ^'^ r^^o^.s o^ ru^ ^^^^ better than one, so let the mL* *^ ""^ *"<' ^^^ are ^ into fi,„,e; a miM^'Z^,;-''''^' and we ^U £: -"^^ ^^^ '» » p-«-i n.»„n;4t;te:^ specialty as t^ are ^11 Z^f *" '"' *«'-' financial predicament '"^'^ ""« »»' of mv tw2ered?oir ' '''' -"^^ "^^^ ourHttll brlStfr ^"°"^' ""'''''- ^« ""ad conCnded. David " Now look here AVi]i;„^ j » this plaguy business fo;r;i.t^r°*^'"°'-'^'''»"' cudgel my brain for a solutiZ^f I ^'^^a^'^nie I will do not devise something pSi ^ f ""'*^' '^^ " I into a new ship's biscuit ag^Tle/^/- "^ "^ *' ****'' most of w>atyou iust tJf 4. ^*'" "' ^ lave heard add that I am' ^Zy'^JZllZi ""' ^f^' -«> ^ -7 :n'=stKdli^-S^^^^^^^^ upon the quay. ^ '"^ « t'"' W dry store-shed i'n due course merchants from B„- * 7 camo to look at the valuaWe ^J^ . f • ""*' ^^y"""*'' ™«ny of the bales ^erJtlZZ : "'' ""'^ " ^'^a' ^•"•y ample margin of profit?!; " ™*" *"' !«*' a fe profit, but 8 great number of the THE CAVALCADE. n best furs and peltries were reserved for the London market. "Weapons and curiosities picked up on the voyage, found ready purchasers among the many Bristol merchants who came to inspect the skins, but when the larger part of the cargo had been disposed of the store was closed, and its most valuable contents packed in four huge, lum- bering waggons, ready to start tor London. In those days there was no railway into Cornwall from the Metropolis, so that all goods had to be conveyed by road ; the distance from Fowey to I^ondon being nearly three hundred miles, such a journey was quite a serious undertaking. There were three horses to each waggon, and as twenty-five miles per day was as far as they could conveniently travel, the cavalcade would be just a fort- night on the road, as Sunday would be regarded as a day of rest for both man and beast. It was a fine frosty morning in November, when the little cavalcade commenced its long, weary, cold journey, but both Mr. Doone and Captain Rose looked upon the trip as a very pleasant one, for they anticipated a very profitable termination to the yenture. The cavalcade, as we have said, consisted of four wag- gons, each drawn by three horses, with a reserve horse, ridden by Bernard ; there were bix men to act as convoy (two of whom > OiC well armed), while Mr. Doone and the Captain, both well mounted and armed, brought up tho rear. A week previous to the starting of the waggons a mounted messenger had been despatched, with notices to several London merchants advising them of the coming of such a freight of skins as seldom rriched London for public sale ; ^aost of the fur trade being tarried on through 34 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE IVEST, A the agents of the Hudson Bay Company. The messenger was also instructed to place advertisements in several London newspapers, giving full particulars of the sales. This trusty messenger who set out alone on horseback wks Mr. Doone's eldest son, Rupert. A ride of three hundred miles in our present well-governed country is very dift'erent to what it was sixty years ago, when the highways were infested by highwaymen, ever ready to plunder those upon whom they could pounce with impunity. Rupert had received his orders to travel only between the hours of 8 a.m. and 4 p.m., and these instructions he rigidly adhered to, making the best of his v :^y ough the wild western counties in broad daylight, iiiw young man did the full distance in six days — a very fair per- formance, considering the state of the roads and the many hills ne had to cross, especially at the outset. Without any incidents of travel worthy of note, Rupert arrived safely in London on the Saturday after the Monday upon which he set out, and there we will leave him, in a state of astonishment at all he saw and heard (for it was his first visit to the Metropolis, or, f indeed, any largo town or city), while we see how things fared with Captain Rose and his convoy CUAPTER IV. The Fur Convoy Starts. — The Conversation on Dartmoor. — A Startling Proposal. — Its Acceptance. — The Land Pirates at the Inn.— Fallen Among Thieves.— Nineteen, Twenty I — A Lucky Shot. —The Furs Sold. The first three or four days of the journey were most enjoyable, being clear, cold, and sunny ; but the two leaders had plenty to talk about and luany arrange- ments to make, as they crawled slowly along the un- dulating roads at an average of a little over three miles an hour, which was the rate of their travel. Having passed safely across Dartmoor, that vast western wilderness, beautiful in summer and dismal and wild in stormy winter, the conversation one day took this turn as the comrades rode side by side over the springy turf. "Now, "William, it is a fortnight since we had that little chat about your affairs and your future prospects ; but, as you know, T have had out little opportunity of speaking to you on private matters while these things were being prepared for the London market ; but now ihzt we have a long day before us with nothing to do but to ride and converse, with an occasional halt to wet our whistle (for we sailors are so impregnated with salt as to be ever in a state of drought), why, we can look into our future prospects at our leisure. I say 'our,' because whichever way I look at it, we seem to have been pre- 36 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. !« ordained for partners, and right well we hit it ; what do you say, William, eh ? " " While we were partners,'* replied Mr. Doone, " we did well together, William; but while you have been successfully climbing the tree of prosperity, I seem to have crawled out on a branch, which at any minute may snap and bring me to the ground, from which I should find it very difficult to climb again, even if I had any heart left to attempt it. *' You see I have had a bad year of it, David ; first I lost - cows by some plaguy disease ; then, in April, my littlu fishing lugger, Hetty ^ was lost, with all her gear and two of her crew ; this was followed by the bankruptcy of one of my creditors, my largest, in fact ; and now, to crown all, that old rascal Prothero, seeing me on my knees, tries to crush me still lower by foreclosing on the mortgage." " Cheer up, old comrade,'* cried the Captain, in his boisterous manner ; " who can tell what the future has in store for you ? Wait and hope, and probably things may turn o^^t brighter than you anticipate.'* " Uh, never fear, David, I'm not going to despond ; I and my youngsters are alive and well, and while we have health at our backs there is no need for crying peccavi. But, my friend, I think you will own that I have had a very large share of ill- fortune for one year ? " " True, I have thought of that, and I am now thinking of what I said a few minutes since as to our suitability to share each other's fortune. We have constantlj'^ been together since we robbed old Trevelyan's orchard when we were schoolboys, and had the luck of being imcaught in running the blockade, even when he had his men on the look-out for us, eh ? Our apprenticeship together was A FRIEND IN NEED. »7 t do a happy one, our partnership in the coasting trade was a prosperous one, and why should we not again join our hands and trade in unison ? " " Because," said Mr. Doone, pointing to the waggons, " you are, in comparison to me, a wealthy man, and my affairs are in such a shaky state that I am afraid a partnership is out of the question." They rode on for a long time in silence, thinking deeply ; but at length, as the horses walked side by side up a steep hill, the Captain again spoke : "What do you say, William, to my paying old Hunks the £2,000, and taking the mortgage on my own shoulders ? " " Say ! why say you would make me the happiest man alive, and I should pay you the £100 a year fo? interest with the utmost cheerfulness." " Very well, old comrade, when I have disposed of the furs I will carry out my suggestion, but that is only part of my grand idea ; now give me your opinion upon this scheme. " I have a project in my mind that I want you to help me carry out, for it is one tliat in a space of three or four years should make us both men of means — that is, it ought to place us both in comfortable circumstances for the rest of our days. Here is my plan— " Before leaving my quarters on the IJmpqua River, I placed a half-bred trapper, named Simola, in charge of what remained of my cargo, instructing him to barter with the natives until I returned to him next autumn. With him I left two strapping young Mandan Indians, who were with me on my Columbia expedition, and as they have plenty of provisions to last till my return, they should not only keep my trading station free from possible »s THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. (but not probable) rivals, but have a good store of peltries ready for me to take on board. " I am certain that a great deal of money may be made from this venture if you will help me to carry out my scheme, which really requires two heads. " 1 will offer you these terms- — " Let your farm to your worthy old neighbour farmer Treffry, who has been so willing to help you in your trouble ; then, with what money you can scrape together — some £700 I believe — you shall become my partner, and I will place a like amount in the concern to victual and freight The Hunter, and if more money is needed I will supply it without prejudice to our equality as partners, for your wife and family will be of considerable monetary value in the affair. Pardon me putting it in that way, but likening your youngsters and my sister to * stock ' is merely my way of saying that if I have a greater pecuniary share of the fitting out of the expedition, still, your family will make your contribution of equal value to mine, fo^ it is a well-known business axiom that ' stock is as good as money,' " and the Captain roared at his little witticism. " Yes, yes ; I know that, David," said Mr. Doone, looking extremely perplexed ; " but how do you propose to turn Hetty and the boys into * stock ' ? " * Why, in this way," laughed the Captain. " I propose that when The Hunter is ready for sea that, leaving all your Fowey property either in the hands of friend Treffry or a trustworthy bailiff, you and your wife and family shall take the voyage to the far West with me, and become agents for our little firm on the Umpque River and the district around. I will promise you it is a lovely place, and has a grand climate ; it is healthy, and inhabited with THE CO yf PACT, 29 friendly natives. I can then trade along the coast in The Hunter, visiting the many tribes of Chinooks, Flat- heads, and others who inhabit the coast during the summer season. " What do you say, "William ? " Mr. Doone turned excitedly in his saddle and, grasping his comrade's hand with a firm, honest grip, while tears stood in his eyes, said : " I cannot thank you enough for this great kindness, David, it has quite unnerved me to think there is yet an opportunity of gaining something to leave my boys and Ruth, and I gladly say * Yes' to your proposition with but one reservation — that Hetty also approves of our scheme, and acquiesces in changing her comfortable English home for a log cabin in the wild West. True, it would be but "■ temporary exile, and if all went well we should return in two or three years with ample means to live once more in dear old England." So for the present the scheme was left in abeyance, the journey and prospective sales being the principal themes of conversation. At the end of the first week the weather became very cold, and several heavy snow- squalls occurred, which ren- dered travelling very slow work ; but being so early in the season — mid November — they had no apprehension of enough snow falling to block them on their journey. Enough fell, however, to turn some of the soft roads into quagmires and greatly impede their progress, so that to reach London by the appointed time they had to prolong their day's work till 6 p.m., and this travelling in the dark produced for them an adventure which threatened to put a sudden termination both to the journey to London and their subsequent voyage to the West. 30 THE PUR TRADERS OF Tl/E WEST, I It was getting towards the gloaming one evening wlien the cavalcade stopped at an inn to ascertain if accommoda- tion could be found for the horses and their drivers ; but the landlord informed them that, though he could only put half of them up at his house, he would see what some of his neighbours could do to take in some of the horses and men ; but while he was busying himself in this business two well-to-do looking young men, who appeared to know the district, informed Captain Rose that at N , about four miles on the road, there was a large, old- fashioned inn that could afford them every accommodation, and as they were going that way they would pilot them, if they might be allowed to do so. Their offer was accepted, as the place recommended was but an hour's journey, and it was much better for the vans to be in one yard, and the escort under one roof, than scattered about a village, as would be the case if they stayed where they were. The cavalcade was therefore sent forward while the leaders stayed behind to explain matters to the obliging landlord on his return. By spurring on the steeds they could soon catch up to the vans which went lumbering along but slowly. They remained about twenty minutes, when, becoming tired of waiting, and anxious to overtake their vans for fear they might take a wrong road, Mr. Doone, the Captain, and the two young men, who were well mounted, rode off, leaving Bernard, who was fond of making incidents of travel, to pay the score and thank the landlord for the trouble he had been at in scouring the village for their benefit. We must leave Bernard at the inn for a short time while we recount what happened to the four travellers in their endeavour to overtake the caravan. They chatted amicably enough as they proceeded at a smart trot; mm mmm CAUGHT BY LAND PIRATES. 3» Captain Rose and Mr. Doone riding side by side, with one of their new friends on either flank, and all went well enough till they came to a short steep hill, with a wood or plantation on the right, and a gorse- grown common on the left. Without any intimation from their riders, the horses slowed down to a walk in ascending the hill, when suddenly, by means of some preconcerted signal, each young man, from the interior of his riding cape, drew out a pistol and desired the two friends to halt ; at the same time reining back their steeds to either side of the roadway. The one who ctfvered Mr. Doone with his weapon quietly said : " I am very sorry, gentlemen, to part with such good fellows so soon, but we have altered our minds, and do not go farther with you ; kindly dismount and turn out your pockets, as we are unfortunately in somewhat straitened circumstances ! " Mr. Doone, who saw that any attempt to snatch a pistol from one of his holsters would be both foolish and futile, suddenly drove hi.^ spurs into his horse's flanks, and as the startled animal gave a mad plunge and reared, he threw himself forward in the saddle to evade, if pos- sible, the anticipated bullet. His ruse, however, availed but little, for the robber fired, and the ball sped to its billet, passing through Mr. Doone's thigh, and entering the side of his horse, rolled the poor animal orer in the roadway. Unfortunately for its rider, the horse fell dead on the spot, having been shot through the heart, and in falling completely pinned his rider to the ground, so that it was impossible for him to rise. 3« THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST, ISilr. Doone was for a moment stunned with the sudden fall, but opened his eyes just in time to see his assailant draw another pistol and point it at his head. Raising one hand in front of him, and entreating the robber not to fire, he placed his right hand on the ground behind him to raise himself, and in doing so put his hand down upon the butt of one of his own pistols, which had fallen from the holster. The robber saw the movement, and taking deliberate aim at Mr. Doone's chest, pulled the trigger, but for some reason a flash in the pan was the only result. The prostrate man noted this instantly, and raising his own w^ vpon fired at the robber, sending a ball through his breast. As he received his wound the robber was standing in the stirrups, with the intention of hurling his pistol at Mr. Doone's head. He was too late, however, and as his arms dropped heavily at his side he sank into his saddle, a gush of blood from his mouth and nostrils telling of the fatal wound he had received. Wheeling round, the robber's horse made away over the common, and in the gathering gloom both the animal and its lifeless burden were quickly lost to sight. : Mr. Doone swooned away froia excitement and the pain of his wound, which was greatly intensified by the weight of the dead horse lying upon him. Matters were not quite so bad for tlie Captain ; but what- ever inclination for resistance he might have had was completely subdued by his looking down the barrel of the other robber's pistol, which was extended towards his head at a distance of only three or four paces. Obviously his only course was to obey the behest of his captor, and alight. This he did, and at the robber's command stripped off AT DEATH'S DOOR. hi Ills great coat and spread it in the roadway ; then, one by one, he was ordered to turn out his pockets. This alsi) he did, but that was not enouj^h ; he was enjoined to take off his coat and waistcoat, and produce the pistol and contents of his liolsters. These requests were reluctantly complied with, and then to his mortifica- tion, he was requested to ritle the pockets of his apparently dead comrade. This was too much for the Captain's temper, and he commenced to use some of those choice flowers of speech which one usually associates with anger in a sudor. Nay, he went further, and flatly refused to sacrilegiously riflo the clothing of a dead man (for so he supposed his friend to be\ " Then, ray friend, there is but one way," salJ the mounted robber, quietly. ** I will slowly count t>venty, and if you have not then commenced to hand ojt the belongings of your comrade, which will not be o? any further use to him, I shall provide you with a leaden supper, and do the work myself." " One ! " and the pistol was held unquaveringly towards the Captain's head. *' Two, three, four," &c , came quickly from the robber's lips. When eighteen was reached, the Captain, with his arms folded on his breast, exclaimed : ** You cowardly villain ! Fire, and be hanged to you ! " •' Nineteen ! " from the robber. Then, as his lips were forming the word ttreHft/, a loud and startling rcix)rt was heard, and the thievish hand which a moment before held the deadly weapon at the gallant sailor's head, fell to his side a ghastly mangled mass of bone, sinew and quivering flesh. 34 IhlB t^UR TkAttERS 0^ THE WEST, With a couple of hasty strides the Captain was by the side of his assailant, and taking him by complete surprise, seized him by the waist, dragged him from his horse, and hurled him with a thud to the earth. In another second Bernard leapt over the fence and rushed to his father, who had apparently been killed, and tried to raise him, but could not do so us the weight of the horse was too great for him. . " One second, Berny," said the Captain, quickly, "while I strap this fellow's arms behind him with my bridle-rein." As they were tugging at the dead horse to get him clear oi his master, three countrymen, who had heard the shots fired, came upon the scene, and with their aid Mr. Doone, who had partly recovered from his swoon, was carried to an inn a mile farther along the road, ' re they found the vans halted for the night. Mr. Doone was put to bed, and a man despatched to the nearest town for a medical man. In an hour he returned, attended by a doctor and a man to take charge of the prisoner, and lodge him in jail. The bullet, in its course through Mr. Doone*s thigh, had fortunately escaped both bone and large arteries, and the doctor pronounced the wound of such a favourable nature that he might travel in one of the vans in two or three days, if no serious symptoms supervened. On examination, the thief's hand presented a dreadful sight. The bullet which had struck him had entered at the elbow, and after ploughing its way along the muscles of the forearm, had escaped at the wrist, only to enter the back of the hand and completely shatter it upon the hard stock of the pistol. The limb was next day amputated above the elbow in D jail. Of course, Mr. Doone and the skipper were both anxious HERNARD'S STORY, 15 to hear how Bernard came to fire the lucky shot just in the very nick of time, and we cannot do better than repeat his own words. When you left me and rode off from the inn I quite ti "X BADB THE LANDLOBD's DAITaHTXB OOOS EYENINa." anticipated having to wait some time for the landlord, but I was much surprised to see him return almost before you were out of sight. I explained to him that you had gone on to H , thanked him for the great trouble he had put himself to on our account, and paid the reckoning. THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WE Si. i " I bade the landlord's daughter good e\eiiing, and, mounting my horse put him into a brisk trot, hoping to catch you before you arrived at our halting-place, especi- ally as you said you would ride slowly to give me time to rejoin you. " After I had ridden about a mile, I heard a pistol fired at no great distance ahead of me, and then the soimd of angry voices which reached my ears in the stillness of the evening, without sufficient distinctness for me to catch the precise words used. " I stopped my horse and listened, then alighted and ran qiiietly round the bend of the road where, to my horror, about one hundred yards ofp, I saw two men on horseback and another prone in the road. " I scarcely knew what to do, not recognising any of the forms in the crepuscular light, but hitching Beauty's bridle over a gate-post, I seized my pistols from the holsters and leapt over the gate into the plantation, and ran swiftly, but iioiselessly, along behind the hedge to where the mounted men were confronting each other. "A glance over ine fence showed me that it was you, father, who lay inanimate upon the ground, vhile uncle was covered with the pistol of a mounted man, who was seated with his back towards me. "I had cocked my weapons as I ran, and although pant- ing for breath, I took as steady an aim at the villain's back as possible, but somehow refrained from, taking the man's life, for he was but a few feet froiri me, although he knew nothing of his peril. I suddenly altered my aim and sighted for his upraised hand, thinking that to cripple the rascal would be better than having a fellow creature'9 blood on my conscience all my life long. " Getting his hand in my line of fire 1 pulled the THE HIGHWAYMAN SENTENCED. 37 trigger, and with a shriek his hand fell shattered at his side. "You know the rest. ** Had my first shot proved futile I should have planted the second hall fairly hetween his shoulders." On the thfi'd day the party moved on again towards London, the prisoner preceding them in charge of two Bow Street runners, for he was wanted in the Metropolis on more than one charge. To abridge our story as much as possible, we may say that Mr. Doone's wound gave him but little trouble, and in a day or two after reaching town he was hobbling about again. The sale of the skins took place on three separate days, and, as expected, realised good prices, the total sales amounting to close upon £4,000. Paul Venner, as the bloodthirsty highwayman called himself, was tried at the Old Bailey, and for his share in the attack on our friends and a charge of forgery, was sentenced to transportation for life. His friend, who was shot by Mr. Doone, died of his wound two days after the contretemps. By the time their business was finished in London, over five weeks had elapsed since they left Cornwall, and having sent the waggons and men oif on their return journey to far-off Fowey quite a week before, our four friends booked seats and on the 21st of December mounted the ** Western Star " coach and journeyed to Plymouth, where a conveyance was ready to take them to Fowey, which they reached safely on the 24th, glad to be at home once more to join in the usual Christmas festivities. Mr, Poo»e had by this time cjuite recovered from his 38 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. wound, and the trio told the story of their adventure with the highwaymen as a capital joke, scarcely realising how near the Doone family had been to a Christmas of sorrow instead of one of joy. Still, as Mr. Doone said, " All's well that ends well, and thank God that he allows us once more to reunite around our cheery fire- side and sing carols to His Son's remembrance." "V CHAPTER V. Springtime. — The Hunter Refitted. — A Glance at Her Stores. — Her Cargo. — The Plan of Campaign. — The Hunter Sails. Spring had succeeded the mild winter which is usual in our most favoured county of Cornwall, and everyone in Fowey was happy and busy preparing for the harvest, both of land and sea, which would in due time take place. The harvest of the sea would come first, and at that the inhabitants would toil cheerfully, while others, probably of the same family, would be tilling the soil and sowing the seed, which by-and-by would grow up and ripen into corn, and prodiiro the land harvest. But besides these two harvests } ; mother was being looked forward to, and that was a harvest of skins and peltries in the far West of America. Mr. and Mrs. Doone uiid their family had signiiiod their intention of joining their fortu' es with that of Uncle David, and preparations were being made for a long voyage and a long sojourn iii an uncivilised land. The Hunter was hauled high and drv on the stocks, and while some were scraping and re-cip^ving her bottom, the suilmaker and his mate were helping the rigger to re- canvas and refit her spars. Two carpenters were busy refitting her interior and placing a bulkhead across her hold so as to partition off a considerable space towards the stern for a comfortable cabin, which was to be fitted with 1 40 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. i lockers, tables, nipboards, and other contrivances in most unexpected places. The hold was fitted for the reception of skins, and the forecastle made comfort abh- for the men. The cook's galley amidships was considerably enlarged, and received u brand new cooking range and a perfect armoury of pots, pans, and the other glittering articles which go to make a good batterie dc cuisine. Rupert and Bernard, styling themselves "ship decora- tors," presided over the paint pots and brushes, and during March they painted everything paintable, from the figure-head to the taffrail, and from the white trucks on the tops of the masts to the figures on the rudder post, such a gaily decorated craft never before left Cornwall, and if she arrived safely at her destination would cause a deal of wonderment among the Indians. On the last day of March T/ie Hunter was launched from the stocks and brought alongside the quay to receive her stores and cargo. Now for a glance at her stores. She carried provisions for two years, and wuen it is remembered that she would carry twenty-five persons all told, it need not be wondered at that the stores filled many waggons. There was for several days a continual going and coming of carts and waggons containing a heterogeneous assortment of all kinds of food, drinks, and requisites, both for ship and crew. There were barrels of beef and tierces of pork, and many huge casks of ship's bread and biscuits ; potatoes in heavy boxes to protect them from rats and sea water ; large canisters of tea and coffee, which were luxuries in those days and only meant for cabin use ; sugar and molasses, salt, pepper, and mustard, oatmeal for porridge, flour for puddings and pies, butter in hermeti' ally sealed jars, dried CARGO OF A TRADER. 41 fruits, bottled fruits, honey, and jam, salted fish, raisins and currants, soda, soap, anu other domestic necessaries, tobacco and pipes, oil, spirits, and wine for high days and holidays, and many little nick-nacks which Mrs. Doone took as " private ventures," as the captain called her spices, pickles, and other little luxuries. Then there were heaps of bedding, blankets, and sheets, boxes of clothing, and boots and shoes, books, medicines, crockery, guns and rods, colour boxes and drawing instru- ments, and u host of cabin requisites. Weapons for ofPence and defence had to be thought of, and as our friends were going to a country where fre- quently "might is right," they had to go well armed, and this is how that part of the lading was carried out. Five iron guns were mounted on deck, viz., four 4-pounders, and a long eight ; there were also two pivot guns, one on either side of the vessel ; these were bell- mouthed and intended to be loaded with slugs for firing at belligerent boat crews. Forty muskets, and a like number of pistols and cutlasses, were stowed in the arm- chest, while deep down under the floor of the cabin was made a powder room, lined with iron plates, which in turn received a coating of duffel. In this was stored twelve casks of gunpowder, some for use and some for barter, and quite enough in quantity to have blo^yn up a huge three- decker. Last, but far from least, the cargo was stowed, which for the purpose in view was of a most miscellaneous kind, and as the articles are verv seldom to be met with on an ordinary vessel, we will glance at some of them. Here are huge bales of blankets, coloured cloths, calicoes, and printed linen goods, all of the most gaudy and inex- pensive kinds ; there are largo casks quite full of glass li^ r 42 THE FUR TRADERS OF THE WEST. I / il s\ beads of all sorts, sizes, shapes, und colours ; another full of knives, another of spear heads, axe heads, and common swords. Those long cases contain trade guns, with deal stocks painted vermillion and cast-iron barrels more deadly to shooter than to shootee. Smaller cases contain earrings, brooches, bracelets, and other jewellery for the squaws (and men too), and, yet, other cases are filled with mirrors, earthenware, mugs, and drinking vessels, fancy bottles, and china ornaments. Sticks of metal, about as thick as one's finger, are tied in bundles ; these are round rods of lead to be cut up into bullets as required by the natives. Then there are cases of tin mugs, saucepans, kettles, and other culinary utensils, needles, chains, brass ornaments; red, blue, and yellow povrders for painting the persons of the Indians ; while drums, flutes, whistles, tambourines, cymbals, and triangles fonn the musical department, and who can tell what else was stowed 'tween decks of the gallant Hunier ere she was pronounced ready to put to sea ? Almost the last articles to come aboard were twenty hogsheads of water, the most necessary article of all. Before our good friends sail away let us see how things were to be left and cared for during their absence. Captain Rose had paid ofE the mortgage on Mr. Doone's farm, much to Mr. Prothero's chagrin, as that worthy gentleman did not at all require the monei/, but had a covetous eye on i/w farm itself, which was so pleasantly situated that he longed to have it for his own estate His idea was that by foreclosing, Mr. Doone would be in a dilemma, and not being able to raise the money when suddenly called upon, would forfeit the land. As we see, however, the biter was bitten, for Mr. Prothero was paid off, and an honest farm bailiff, John PLANS I'OR THE FUTURE. 43 *j Trefry, left in charge of the farm and homestead until Mr. Doone's anticipated return in about three years. The plan of the partners was very simple. They were to sail round Cape Horn and then up the west coast of South America, till they arrived at the north-west coast of California, where four men had been left at different places to get the Indians in the mind to trade with the white men. These were half-breeds whom Captain Rose had left on his previous voyage home. Then The Hunter was to proceed to the Umpqua River, in south-west Oregon, and ascend it about fifty miles to the station which the Captain had already formed. Here n fort or trading house was to be built, and Mr. Doone, his wife, sons and daughter, left in charge to barter with the Indians, and send out agents among the outlying tribes to induce them to trap, shoot, and hunt with a view of bringing their spoils to the white men for trade. Everything being settled at Fort Cornwall, as they were to christen their new stronghold, the Captain was to sail up and down the coast and put into likely places, and purchase furs of the natives or half-breed hunters. He was to watch for the signals of the four agents he had put ashore in North California, and when they made certain signs was to send a boat's crew ashore, with an assortment of goods, and exchange them for the spoils of the native hunters. This means he proposed to adopt, because, although he had faith in the honesty of his own agents, he had not with the tribesmen with whom they would associate, for they would for a certainty murder the men for the sake of the goods in their charge. No goods, therefore, were left with the agents. By holding out promises of profit when the big white canoe, The Hunter^ returned, the agents' lives would be