l$F% IS >ZlM^^g^^ 
 
 THE PRAIRIE JSOE 
 
 iiftfr&iffhmh^ 
 
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 O & 
 
THE 
 
 PRAIRIE CRUSOE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 in % Jfar 
 
 A STORY FOR BOYS. 
 
 
 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 BOSTON 1890 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 10 MILK STREET NEXT "THE OLD SOUTH MEETING-HOUSE" 
 
 NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM 
 
 718 AND 720 BROADWAY 
 
Ent*d. according to Act of Congress, in the year iM6> 
 
 BY WJE..& SIIBVARD, . 
 Ii the Clerk s Office of the Ufisttiet CputfX tfie pfe^ ;Kct of Massachusetts 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TICK BATTLK OF JENA. A WOUNDKD SOLDIER AND A DESERTED 
 CHILD. THE ADOPTION. BOYHOOD OF OUK HERO ..... 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WILLIAM AND THE WOLF. THE BARON OF WOLFENSHEIM. 
 
 WILLIAM S EDUCATION .................... IS 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 DEATH OF BERCHTOLD. WILLIAM S DEPARTURE FOR AMERICA. 
 
 THE GULF OF MEXICO. LOST IN THE WOODS ......... 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. LEWIS THE TRAPPER. LEWIS S ADVICE. 
 
 WILLIAM S STORY ....................... 2? 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE INUNDATION. THE GRISLY BEAR. SUBSIDING OF THE 
 WATERS. " BLACKFEET" TRACKS ............... 
 
 M85826 
 
IV CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LEWIS S LONG SPEECH. A TERRIBLE STRUGGLE. THE BEAR 
 
 AND THE INDIAN 4t 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE JAGUAR. THE YOUNG WARRIOR. THE JAGUAR 8 PROMISE 51 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CACHE. SKINNING THE BEAR. THE WILD HORSES. THE 
 
 LASSO. LEWIS S TREASURE . 67 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A TRIP ON THE WATER. Til K PURSUIT AND THE STRATAGEM . . 61 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIGHT. LOSS OF A KKIEND. WILLIAM A PRISONER. THE 
 
 JAGUAR AGAIN 77 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 GRATITUDE OF THK JAGUAR. WILLIAM S ESCAPE 85 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BBCAPTUKE. THE RACE FOR LIFE . . 03 
 
CO ML NTS. V 
 
 C II A P T E R XIII. 
 
 THE CANOE. THE KAl II) THE DUESS 103 
 
 C II A P T E 11 XIV. 
 
 riJUSOE LIFE. Till-; VALLICY. TJIE BEAVERS Ill 
 
 C II A P T E K XV. 
 
 THE BUFFALOES. Til K \VOUNDK1) INDIAN 11 
 
 C II A P T E R X V I. 
 
 ARRIVAL IN T1IK TRIBE. THE GREAT EAGLE. ADOPTION ... 129 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE INDIAN VILLAGE. WILLIAM A DOCTOR Ml 
 
 C II A P T E R XVII I. 
 
 A BUFFALO-HUNT. THE ANTELOPES. A PANIC 161 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A BATTLE. WILLIAM SAVED BY THE GKKAT EAGLE 159 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TRIUMPHAL RETURN. THE FUNERAL 167 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 EXCURSIONS. THE BUFFALO-KILLER. A 1 RISONER ....... 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HISTORY OF LEWIS. THE KIKE. HEROIC ACT .......... 180 
 
 CHATTER XXIII. 
 
 THE CANADIAN TRADERS. SEPARATION .............. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ARRIVAL AT ST. LOUIS. THE BULWElt FAMILY ....... . 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HEWS FROM GERMANY. VISIT TO TllE AR1CARAS. A BUFFALO- 
 HUNT ............................... 206 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MY PROPOSED VISIT TO NEW ORLEANS .......... * .... 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 COMMENCEMENT OF MR. BULWER S STORY ............. 217 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 MK. BULWKR AT HAVANNA. M. LESSAIX . 226 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 LOVE, PIRACY, AND A LITTLE KIDNAPPING ............ 
 
 C II A P T E 11 XXX. 
 
 .HARKS AND PIUATKS.-THK I-UKSUIT.- THK DEATH OF M. LES- ^ 
 ^AIX .................... 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 FAREWELL TO LEWIS. -WILLIAM S DEPAKTUUE FOB EUROPE. . . 2W 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 WILLIAM S KETUKN.-T1IK BAKOS ................. M 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WILLIAM S F1KST DAY AT 1 KKUDENSTADT ............. * 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 267 
 WILLIAM S LOVE FOll BKRTIIA ........... 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 WILLIAM S MARRIAGE 
 
the morning of the 14th Octo- 
 |ber, 1806, Napoleon occupied the pla 
 teau of Jena, a small town in the 
 Grand-Duchy of S axe -Weimar; and 
 ! the sound of the cannon, from Cap- 
 ^ peldorf to Awerstadt, announced that 
 the giant of battles had again thrown 
 his sword into the balance against 
 "the scale where the fate of nations rested. 
 
iO .i . ; \ / ; ;T-3K IfUAiniE CRUSOE. 
 
 J^ftCi*; m o/s t prodlgio.u3 -efforts, the Prussian army, 
 ffifyttOO strbng, \v?s ; de lea ted and put to flight; leaving 
 k jft,000 on the field of battle, and 30,000 prisoners in 
 the hands of the French. 
 
 The vast plain presented a horrid sight: dead and 
 dying were everywhere heaped together, remaining 
 from a fearful struggle; while the farms and villages, 
 which but the day before had been the image of peace 
 and happiness, were now the prey of devouring 
 flames. 
 
 The action had been most severe in the vicinity of 
 Holstedt. This village had been tnkn and retaken 
 several times, and was now but a heap of smoking 
 ruins, through which hurried the unfortunate Prus 
 sians, pursued by Murat s victorious cavalry. 
 
 One officer, grievously wounded, after fighting 
 bravely, was abandoned by his comrades, and obliged 
 to seek refuge in the ruins of a house which had 
 suffered severely from shot and shell, lie had already 
 served with great distinction, and was living in quiet 
 retirement in a small house which he owned, when 
 hostilities recommenced. He hastened to offer the 
 use of his sword to his country; and, if he did not 
 meet his death on the field of Jena, it was not because 
 he did not expose himself to danger. Bcrchtold (for 
 so he was called) had just sat down in the midst of 
 this scene of devastation, when he heard the feeble 
 
THE ADOPTION 
 
 cries of a young child, apparently quite near him, 
 Actuated by a feeling of humanity, he forgot his own 
 wounds, and directed his steps towards the spot 
 whence the sounds seemed to come, and resting 
 against a half-burnt wall of the same ruined house 
 where he had sought shelter, and which seemed on 
 the point of falling, found a cradle, and in it a charm 
 ing little boy about six or seven months old, reaching 
 out his little arms, and calling his mother, who probably 
 had perished, unable to save her child. 
 
 Berchtold, touched with compassion, hastened to 
 raise the child in his arms; and a te:ir of joy stole 
 down the rugged cheek of the old soldier as the little 
 one pulled his mustache, and a smile replaced the 
 tears which had been occasioned by its infantile fears. 
 Regardless of his own wounds, and finding a new 
 courage in the very task which Providence seemed to 
 assign to him, he snatched a coverlid, which he 
 wrapped about the little one as best he could, and 
 started off, though suffering great pain, in the direc 
 tion opposite to the field of battle. 
 
 He was met by a party of French cavalry, who, 
 seeing his uniform, wished to detain him as a prisoner. 
 The officer in command of the detachment, however, 
 taking pity on him and on the little fellow whom he 
 carried, gave orders to let him pass in safety, who 
 amid such carnage and desolation, though grievously 
 
12 THE PHA1IUE CRUSOE. 
 
 wounded, exposed so freely his OAVH life and liberty to 
 preserve the existence of one of God s creatures. 
 
 Berchtold thanked the French officer gratefully, and 
 continued on his way. At the first village, he made 
 inquiries concerning the parents of the child; but no 
 one could give him any information. He resolved, 
 therefore, to keep it himself since he had no family, 
 and was alone in the world. Buying a goat, which 
 l;e g ive to William (as he called his little friend) for 
 a nurse, he adopted him as his own child. 
 
 He recovered speedily from his wounds; and when 
 peace was concluded, he was allowed to leave the mili 
 tary service with a pension sufficient to keep him com 
 fortably the rest of his days. So he made up his mind 
 to settle himself in the little cottage which he owned, 
 in the kingdom of Wurtemberg, near the city of 
 Freudenstadt, and not far from the frontier of the 
 Duchy of Baden. There was, attached to the house, 
 a garden large enough to produce all the fruits and 
 vegetables which he could desire; while the close prox 
 imity of the Black Forest would allow the little Wil 
 liam, when he increased in years, the pleasures of the 
 chase for the development of his physical strength. 
 
 He set out on his journey, crossed Bavaria, and 
 reached Freudenstadt without accident; whence he 
 passed to his home at once. In a very few days he 
 was installed, his garden dug, the grain sowed, the 
 
THE AD )PTTON. 2 
 
 trees nicely trimmed, and every thing in good, com 
 fortable shape. 
 
 He was now happy; for the good action which he 
 had performed occasioned him great satisfaction, and 
 won the approval of his conscience. 
 
 Retired in his little cottage, and seeing very fc.w 
 people (for he was at some distance from other habita 
 tions), he lived almost entirely with his adopted child 
 and the goat, which seemed every day more and 
 more attached to its young charge. At the least cry, 
 the intelligent animal hastened with its rich milk to 
 appease little William. The old soldier became daily 
 fonder of his little one, who grew strong with his 
 increasing age, and soon began to imitate the gambols 
 of his nurse, and even to say a few words. The first 
 of these more than recompensed the old man for all 
 his trouble; and, when William was able to understand 
 him, his adopted father took him on his knees, and 
 described all the battles in which he had taken part, 
 and all the fatigues which he had endured. He spoke 
 with so much energy and animation, that the child 
 was never weary of listening to him. Hence, from 
 his tenderest years, the taste for an adventurous and 
 wandering life was formed in him, and influenced his 
 after-career. Berchtold taught him to read and write ; 
 and William, whose intelligence and good-will were 
 equally great, made very rapid progress, so that in a 
 
14 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 few years he was almost as well instructed as his 
 teacher. 
 
 The latter also gave him that true instruction of the 
 heart which is the best basis for every other. Honest 
 and loyal himself, his morality was simple, but very 
 correct. 
 
 "William," said he, "never utter an untruth, even to 
 save your life; for an honest man must never soil hia 
 lips by a falsehood. 
 
 " Never blaspheme the name of your Maker. 
 
 "Never do any thing to injure your neighbor. 
 
 " In a word, love and fear God, and aid your neigh 
 bor whenever you can. 
 
 "Always remember, that, in whatever position man 
 may be placed, a pure conscience is the greatest 
 wealth which he can possess; and this no man can 
 take from him." 
 
 With this simple education, William reached his 
 twelfth year. He was stouter and stronger than are 
 most children of that age, and was endowed with a 
 courage which became at times rash, and once, indeed, 
 almost cost him MB life. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WOLF. EDUCATION OF WILLIAM. 
 
 ONE winter morning, when he had led out the goat 
 t ) browse, his love of adventure and curiosity drew 
 him to the very confines of the Black Forest ; but he 
 had scarcely passed within the shadows of the snow- 
 covered pines when he was attracted by the bleatings 
 of his nurse. Turning towards the spot where she 
 stood, he saw her with neck outstretched and eyes 
 fixed, while her whole body trembled violently. As 
 tonished at these signs of fear, he hurried towards 
 her, wondering what could be the occasion of her 
 alarm; but he was not long in suspense, as his eyes 
 fell on an animal, which, from the description so often 
 given by his father, he knew to be a wolf. 
 
 At first, it must be acknowledged, William was 
 frightened, and stood motionless; but quickly over- 
 
 15 
 
" THE PRATRTE CRUSH R. 
 
 coining his indecision, and knowing thai he was alone 
 to protect his dear old friend, he advanced boldly, and 
 placed himself between her and the ferocious beast. 
 The wolf, furious with hunger, bared his sharp teeth, 
 and approached to spring upon the child. The latter 
 had only a heavy oaken staff with which to defend 
 himself; but he awaited the animal boldly, and gave 
 him a violent blow on the head. The wolf stag- 
 gered, and William profited by this to repeat the 
 blow: but the ground was slippery with the frozen 
 suow; and, losing his balance, over he rolled. 
 
 As the wolf again rushed at him, he recalled the 
 instructions of his adopted father, and called on Him 
 who never abandons the weak. God heard his prayer; 
 for, recovering his self-possession as the wolf opened 
 his terrible fangs and he could almost feel his hot 
 breath upon his cheek, he bethought himself of his 
 sharp knife. In an instant, drawing it, he plunged it 
 into the throat of the animal. The wolf retreated for 
 a moment, with a terrible howl, but then sprang at 
 him again. This time, William, rising on his knees, 
 threw his left arm around the neck of the animal, and 
 struck him repeatedly with his knife. For a moment 
 it was impossible to distinguish victor from van 
 quished, as they rolled together in the thick stream 
 of blood which escaped from the deep wounds of the 
 Bavage brute. 
 
THE WOLF. EDUCATION OF WILLIAM. 17 
 
 At last, after a short but fearful struggle, William 
 felt the embrace of the wolf diminish, and the horrid 
 beast drew his last breath in a prolonged howl of 
 agony. 
 
 The poor child was now covered with blood. His 
 chest and his arms deeply wounded with the huge 
 teeth and claws of the brute, he was too weak to rise. 
 He felt a veil closing over his eyes; and, with his 
 thoughts turned to heaven, he murmured the name 
 of the God who had hitherto protected him, with that 
 of his father, and became senseless. 
 
 The unfortunate boy remained more than two hours 
 on the snow, where he would doubtless have died, if 
 the painful bleatings of his goat, which walked around 
 him, and pressed its muzzle into his face, as if trying 
 to awake him, had not attracted the attention of 
 several hunters who had lost their way while follow 
 ing a fox. They were glad to hear the bleatings of a 
 domestic animal, thinking that they could not be far 
 from some habitation, where they could learn the routo 
 which they ought to follow. But what was their 
 surprise to find a child, bathed in blood ! for Willi.mi 
 was covered with what had been lost by his enemy. 
 At first, they fancied that the boy had been murdered; 
 but, perceiving the dead wolf, they quickly saw the 
 true state of the case. 
 
 2 
 
18 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 One of the hunters, who had some knowledge of 
 surgery, examined the child s wounds, and decided 
 that they were slight, and that he had fainted more 
 from emotion and fatigue than from the loss of blood. 
 A few drops of cordial sufficed to re-animate William, 
 and put him in a condition to relate what had hap 
 pened. 
 
 They congratulated him on his good heart and intre 
 pidity ; and, as he was too weak to walk alone, they 
 hastened to carry him to Berchtold s house. We will 
 not attempt to describe the interview between Wil- 
 liam and his father. The poor man, while praising 
 him for his courage and coolness, could not help blam 
 ing him for his imprudence. He was happy to see the 
 firm character of his beloved pupil; yet he trembled 
 at the thought that he might have lost the boy, who 
 was at once his joy and consolation. 
 
 This adventure decided William s future. 
 
 One of the hunters, the Baron of Wolfensheim, who 
 possessed a splendid castle about eight miles from 
 Berchtold s cottage, saw with pleasure that his son, a 
 boy of thirteen, who accompanied him, was attracted 
 by the courage which the young peasant had shown. 
 fie talked with William ; and discovering that he had 
 excellent moral principles, and wished to acquire more 
 knowledge, he acceded with pleasure to his son Stani* 
 
THE WOLF. EDUCATION OP WILLIAM. 19 
 
 las request to invite William to come to Wolfen- 
 slieim and see the library. 
 
 From, this time, the visits from the cottage to the 
 castle were frequent. William often assisted at thy 
 lessons received by the young baron ; and on his return 
 home he remembered what he had heard, and tried to 
 study the books which were readily and kindly lent 
 him. Stanislas helped his efforts, and the baron was 
 pleased to see the emulation between them. 
 
 The works which William read with most avidity 
 were accounts of voyages and travels. The dangers 
 and perils encountered by the hardy explorers whose 
 exploits were related, Cik- ! his young mind com 
 pletely. He s .\v himself, in thought, the hero of 
 extraordinary adventures. It seemed as if the Black 
 Forest and all the surrounding country were too iir.r- 
 row a space for him, and the only thing which kept 
 him at Freudenstadt was his deep affection for his 
 father. He also read natural history, and stud i CM! 
 eagerly, that he might learn to understand the great 
 truths written in the book of Nature, which always 
 lies open before us. He conversed frequently with the 
 baron, who was a person of more than usual learning ; 
 and his intelligence became rapidly developed, and 
 increased. With that activity of mind natural to all 
 chosen natures, he wished to examine every thing and 
 know every thing; so that, without neglecting physical 
 
20 
 
 THE PRAJRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 exercise, riding, hunting, <fcc., he managed to learn 
 English and French, as well as to acquire a good fund 
 
 C? 
 
 of general knowledge which was most useful to him 
 in after-years. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 WILLIAM S DEPARTURE. HIS ARRIVAL IN AMEBICA. 
 
 FOUR years passed away in this quiet and peaceful 
 manner. But grief was now to visit poor William. 
 His adopted father fell sick, and took to his bed for 
 the last time; soon growing aware that his last hour 
 was come, notwithstanding the care and devotion 
 shown him by his beloved boy. 
 
 "My child," said he, one evening when he felt more 
 than usually feeble, "I am going to die, and leave you 
 alone on earth. Never forget the precepts which I 
 taught you : always do your duty, and you will be 
 happy. Do not cry," he added, hearing the sobs of 
 the unhappy young man. " Remember that death is 
 sweet to the man who has nothing with which to 
 reproach himself. Adieu, my son! I bless you and" 
 
 . But he could not finish the sentence he had 
 
 commenced ; for death had released his soul from the 
 chains of this life. 
 
 21 
 
22 THE PRAIRIE* CRUSOE. 
 
 William, stricken with grief, remained insensible to 
 the sweet consolation offered by Stanislas, and seemed 
 to exist only in the grief and sorrow which flooded 
 . his lonely heart. He only roused himself at last when 
 he was called upon to follow to the grave the mortal 
 remains of him who had watched over his earliest 
 infancy, and who had, to the day of his death, been so 
 good a father to him. 
 
 In about a month after Berchtold s death, the Baron 
 of Wolfensheim represented to him that he was no 
 longer a child, but that he must overcome his grk f 
 and choose a condition of life. The baron offered to 
 assist and protect him in whatever course he might 
 select. Stanislas, who had been named an officer in the 
 husnars, hoped that his friend would decide upon enter 
 ing his regiment, where he knew that the powerful 
 influence of the baron could easily obtain his promo 
 tion. But William acknowledged, that from boyhood 
 he had always loved to think of long voyages and dis 
 tant travels; and that the accounts of hardy navigators, 
 and the hair-breadth perils through which they had 
 passed, which he had so eagerly read, had only increased 
 his natural desire to become a sailor. Great as was 
 the regret of the baron and his son to find in Wil 
 liam the love of an avocation which would lead him 
 far from them, they did not seek to turn him from his 
 project, feeling certain that their young friend could 
 
WILLIAM S DEPARTURE. 23 
 
 not fail to succeed in a career embraced from choice. 
 The baron used his influence to procure him a good 
 position ; and it was decided that he should embark on 
 the " Washington," which ship was then lying at Ham 
 burg, about to set sail for America. 
 
 The day for his departure was a sad one for Wil 
 liam, who felt that he was leaving the only persons on 
 earth who took an interest in him, and that he would 
 henceforth have to make hi s way among strangers; 
 but his natural firmness did not abandon him, and he 
 repressed his already rising tears that he might not 
 cause a new grief to his friends. 
 
 He felt deeply grieved to leave the goat, which had 
 been with him in the happy days of childhood; and, 
 that it might not be ill treated by strangers, he gave it 
 to young Bertha, Stanislas sister. The little girl, 
 who liked William very much, promised him, amid 
 her sobs, to take great care of it, and, with the inno 
 cence of her age, asked him to bring her many pretty 
 things when he came back. 
 
 The baron and Stanislas had decided on accompa 
 nying William as far as Hamburg, in order to recom 
 mend him to his captain. The journey wns quickly 
 made; and, on the 1st of March, William embraced his 
 benefactors for the last time before his departure. 
 Stanislas made him promise to send news as often as 
 could ; and they parted, pledging an eternal friend- 
 
24 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 ship. The baron recalled to his mind the wise coun 
 sels of his adopted father, and added other advice 
 applicable to his new career. At last, it was necessary 
 to separate ; and the poor young man saw his friends 
 get into the boat which would separate them from 
 him, perhaps, alas! forever. He remained on deck 
 until the land, disappearing gradually on the horizon, 
 was scarcely a perceptible line ; and at last it faded 
 entirely from his sight. 
 
 Nothing remarkable happened during the voyage 
 until they entered the Gulf of Mexico, when a great 
 storm arose, perilling the lives of our young adven 
 turer and his companions. In the midst of the con 
 fusion, William showed great coolness, and an ability 
 which was not looked for, so much so as to win the 
 compliments of the captain and the congratulations of 
 his comrades. 
 
 Our young friend had, however, mistaken his real 
 vocation. In becoming a sailor, he had been led by 
 his adventurous spirit, his love of travel, and a taste 
 for natural history, rather than by an actual desire to 
 follow the sea; but, accustomed from early youlh to 
 sacrifice inclination to duty, he had succeeded by 
 his obedience, his good conduct, and his exactness in 
 fuliilling all his duties, in winning the esteem of the 
 officers and men. 
 The magnificent vegetation which he perceived 
 
WILLIAM S DEPARTURE. 25 
 
 everywhere along the shore made him anxious to 
 reach the land : hence he eagerly seized the opportu 
 nity to go on shore in the long-boat with a party who 
 landed to fill their water-casks in Turtle Bay, so 
 called from the great number of turtles which come 
 there to deposit their eggs in the sand. 
 
 As soon as they reached the shore, William, who 
 was free from duty, took his gun and ammunition, 
 with some provisions, and advanced into the country. 
 He soon came to the confines of a large forest. The 
 immense trees and beautiful flowers of America, so 
 different from those of his own country, attracted the 
 attention of the young wanderer ; and passing from 
 one object to another, anxious to examine all, he went 
 farther than he imagined, or had intended to do. 
 
 After walking several hours, beginning to feel 
 hungry, William stopped to eat the little provision 
 which he^ had brought with him; and, thinking that 
 the hour must be come for him to regain the boat, he 
 arose quite joyous, thinking, with a presumption natu 
 ral to his age, that he could easily find his way back 
 to it. However, he was mistaken. He did not pos 
 sess the wonderful faculty of the Indians, who find 
 their way in the dense forests where no path has b<H>n 
 trodden ; so that, the more he walked, the less he ap 
 peared likely to discover the way back to the shore. 
 The sun was now setting : so, thinking that he would 
 
26 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 find it still more difficult to trace his path in the dark 
 ness, he took the resolution to ascend a tree to pass 
 the night; and, recommending himself to God, the 
 courageous lad very quickly lost the memory of his 
 irouble in his youthful dreams. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PRAIRIES. A TRAPPER. 
 
 ON awakening, he examined very carefully the 
 ground about him, and discerned by the moisture of 
 the soil that he must be near a stream. 
 
 In fact, a short distance farther on, he found a 
 rivulet, which, freeing itself from the earth and moss, 
 flowed along in a little silvery current. The banks 
 were covered with a beautiful green turf, whose fresh 
 ness contrasted charmingly with the foliage above, : nd 
 the pure white lilies wh ch lifted their heads above 
 the gentle waves. The trees bordering the water had 
 laced and interlaced their branches, forming a kind of 
 natural canopy, which the bright beams of the risen 
 sun with difficulty penetrated. Thousands of creeping 
 plants, covered with orange, purple, and white flowers, 
 hung from the branches like so many garlands grace 
 fully twined above the murmuring brook. At the 
 
 27 
 
THE PKAIKIE CRUSOE. 
 
 least breath of wind, a perfect shoAver of flowers cov 
 ered the earth, and added to the beauty of the scene ; 
 while here and there gay butterflies danced from stein 
 to stern. 
 
 Suddenly an aquatic bird started from the thick 
 underbrush; and William, drawn from his ecstasy by 
 the sound of its wings, levelled his gun, and killed it. 
 He had already begun to feel the approach of hunger : 
 so, collecting broken branches and dry leaves, he built 
 a fire, and roasted his game. The limpid water 
 quenched his thirst, and gave a zest to his first savage 
 meal. 
 
 After he had thus refreshed his natural hunger, his 
 strength was quite renewed : and William started on, 
 following always the course of the stream, which 
 must, he argued, lead him to the sea-shore; but, con 
 trary to his very natural belief, the deeper he pene 
 trated the forest, the farther he receded from the coast. 
 
 For many long and weary days he walked almost 
 constantly, without any othir result than becoming 
 thoroughly bewildered. At last he grew discouraged, 
 feeling that he was lost in one of the immense Ameri 
 can forests, without any hope of finding his vessel, 
 which doubtless had sailed away, leaving him on 
 shore in this wild spot. His supply of powder was 
 nearly exhausted, and he saw himself without any 
 further means of procuring subsistence. Still he 
 

 THE PRAIRIES. A TRAPPER. 29 
 
 would not despair, knowing that whoever puts his 
 confidence in Divine Providence is never abandoned 
 by the Deity. 
 
 The stream, which he had until now followed, hail 
 
 lost itself in a ravine, closed in by vines, trees, and 
 
 bushes so densely as to form an impenetrable barrier. 
 
 He gave up attempting to follow it any farther, and 
 
 directed his steps as due north as he could, hoping to 
 
 find some great river which might possibly lead him 
 
 to some settlement where he could ask for hospitality. 
 
 Day after day he pursued his course across prairies 
 
 and through forests, which successively presented 
 
 themselves, divided by numerous water-courses, which 
 
 he waded through or swam across in safety ; when, at 
 
 a little opening in the woods, he saw a man standing 
 
 with a loni? rifle poised upon his shoulder. It was 
 
 ;. trapper named Lewis, who, hearing the noise which 
 
 William made walking in the wood, and not knowing 
 
 what enemy he might have to encounter, examining 
 
 the forest in his direction, was prepared for any 
 
 chance. 
 
 William, happy to see a human being once more, 
 ran towards Lewis; but the latter made him a sign 
 to stop, and, raising his rifle, asked him in English who 
 he was. Surprised at such a reception, our young 
 friend obeyed, and related in a few words the circum 
 
30 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 stances which had le d him into this place, and the dis 
 tress in which he then was. 
 
 Immediately the trapper advanced, and held out his 
 hand cordially, and, with a frankness characteiistic of 
 that class of men, promised him aid and protection. 
 
 "As to finding your vessel again," said he, "you 
 must not think of it. We are very far from the bay 
 where you landed; and, moreover, they would not 
 wait for you. Your captain believes you dead, and 
 he has reason to do so ; for it is a miracle for you to 
 have travelled for weeks in such a country as this, sur 
 rounded by every conceivable danger, and yet to 
 have preserved your life. If you wish to follow my 
 fortunes for a while, and share my fatigues and my 
 labors, I will teach you the mysteries of the wandering 
 life which we, the dwellers in the Great West, lead; 
 and that may be of use to you. When the hunt 
 ing season is over, we will go to St. Louis,, where you 
 will find an opportunity to return to Europe. Until 
 that time, you will find me a devoted friend in whom 
 you may rely, as I trust I may in you when occasion 
 offers." 
 
 Lewis grasped William s hand again, and gave it a 
 good hearty shake. 
 
 We will now give way to our hero himself, whose 
 account of the principal events which he witnessed, 
 
THE PRAIRIES. A TRAPPER. 
 
 and in many of which he himself played an important 
 part, was written carefully by him in after-years:- 
 
 I accepted gratefully the offer of the brave trapper, 
 and thanked him from the bottom of my heart for the 
 unlooked-for assistance which he afforded me in my 
 loneliness and helplessness. His proposal was of a 
 nature to please me, for I saw with joy before me 
 a life completely in harmony with my adventurous 
 tastes, and love of travel. 
 
 " After our frugal meal, composed of crackers, a slice 
 of buffalo-meat dried in the sun, and some pure water 
 from a neighboring brook, we set off. 
 
 "We usually walked from daybreak until the heat 
 of the sun became too powerful. We would then seek 
 the shelter of the trees, and Lewis, after carefully 
 examining the vicinity, prepared our meal. A flexible 
 branch, resting upon two other forked branches, served 
 as a spit whereon to roast whatever game we had 
 killed. Then, lighting our pipes, Lewis related to me 
 the varied and sometimes terrible episodes of a trapper s 
 life: he made me acquainted with the manners and 
 customs of the different tribes of the Indians, and 
 taught me the more common words in their various 
 dialects. 
 
 After the heat of the sun had decreased, we would 
 continue our journey until night, hunting, setting our 
 traps, and sometimes, when we had unusually fine 
 
32 THE PR A TRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 sport, preparing and packing the furs of the animals 
 we had shot the past day. 
 
 " At niglit we rested in the thick grass, one keeping 
 watch for a few hours while the other slept. Lewis 
 sometimes would not light a fire to preserve us from 
 wild beasts, because the smoke would betray us to the 
 Indians, who might make us pay clearly for our impru 
 dence. 
 
 "For several days we ascended one of the tributaries 
 of the Missouri, whose course is very irregular. Now 
 enclosed between enormous rocks, or by the winding 
 lines of the small hills, which stretched away in the 
 distance, the river would narrow in its bed, and pre 
 cipitate its waters violently beneath the thick brunches 
 of the immense trees which lined either bank, and 
 whose foliage, meeting above, formed a beautiful arch: 
 then, on the contrary, extending itself in the broad 
 valleys between the hills, it formed immense lakes, 
 where the current was scarcely visible ; thus making, 
 as it were, a chain of inland seas and streams. 
 
 " Flowers, most lovely and most varied in hue, car 
 peted these plains, and multitudes of richly plumed 
 birds made the wilderness alive, as they passed from 
 tree to tree and flower to flower. 
 
 "Reaching an elbow of the river, Lewis entered a 
 valley about three or four miles wide, open at the 
 sides, and stretching away, as the elevation gradually 
 
THE PRAIRIES. A TRAPPER. 
 
 increased, towards immense forests, which were just 
 visible on the horizon. The heat was intense, and the 
 perspiration ran down our faces freely, although the 
 sun was hidden in a dense mass of vapor. Heavy 
 black clouds began to show themselves on every side, 
 driven by a wind which had not yet reached us ; for 
 the fresh morning breeze had died away. 
 
 "Lewis had already shown some signs of inquietude : 
 he looked at the different quarters of the heavens, and 
 hurried on. All at once he stopped, and turned 
 towards me. William, said he, if we do not wish 
 to perish here, we must gain yonder rising ground as 
 quickly as possible. In a very short time, this plain 
 will be nothing but an immense lake, and every thing 
 on it will be swallowed up. 
 
 " Onward we sped, as rapidly as possible, towards 
 the heights which bordered this vast amphitheatre." 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 INUNDATION. THE RED-SKINS. 
 
 " EVERY thing seemed, as Lewis afterwards told me, 
 to forebode one of those terrific hurricanes, which 
 pass witli lightning speed, tearing up and overthrow 
 ing every thing that comes in their way. The sky was 
 of a dull lead-color : here and there, spots of dazzling 
 white, or of copper-color, seemed to hold together the 
 immense masses of black clouds which rolled along 
 over and through each other in angry rage. From 
 the extremity of the horizon rose a dark point into 
 the only less dark sky, whose course was directed 
 towards the centre of the valley. 
 
 " Disorder was not less apparent on the earth, so 
 peaceful and smiling a short hour since. Flocks of 
 birds sped rapidly over the level ground, towards the 
 forest, uttering sharp cries. Troops of bisons and 
 
 35 
 
P)G THE PIUJRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 antelopes, in serried masses, made the ground tremble 
 beneath their wildly living rush. 
 
 "A grisly bear, and a female jaguar with her 
 young, were amongst them. They had forgotten their 
 own ferocity, and sought only to avoid the danger 
 which their instinct revealed to them. 
 
 "Animals of every kind had but one feeling, that of 
 danger. 
 
 " We had scarcely reached an immense rock, which 
 overlooked the whole of the plain, and established our 
 selves beneath an enormous araucaria, when the hurri 
 cane burst forth in all its fury. 
 
 "A low rumbling was audible in the distance. TLo 
 earth seemed agitated by some internal movement, 
 the trees trembled from their very roots; but not & 
 breath of wind. Suddenly, down came the torrentr, 
 and a fearful convulsion succeeded the suspense of 
 pain. The. giant trees bent like reeds, and, crashing 
 together, were hurled into the air by the violence oi 
 the tempest. In an instant, these monarchs of tin 
 wood were destroyed, leaving bare the rocks which 
 the lapse of ages had left respected. 
 
 " This scene of horror was made still more terrible 
 by the sharp and vivid flashes of the blue lightning, 
 while the thunder pealed through the heaven, and was 
 re-echoed in the distance. The low, distant rumbling, 
 which I had already noticed, approached ; and, by the 
 
INUNDATION. THE RED-SKINS. 
 
 37 
 
 glimmer of the lightning, I saw a white line, the whole 
 width of the valley, advancing with angry speed to 
 wards the steep ascent. It was the rushing water 
 from above precipitating itself into the open space 
 
 before it. 
 
 "In a very few minutes, as Lewis had said, the 
 waves covered all the plain stretched at our feet, and 
 formed only a fearful torrent, sweeping away in its 
 surging flood the trunks of huge trees, shattered 
 rocks, and the bodies of animals surprised before a 
 shelter could be found. One grisly bear alone, probably 
 the same one which had passed near us, was swimming 
 stoutly in the midst of the torrent. He endeavored 
 to find some safe spot not yet submerged ; but we saw 
 him seize the branches of a tree, which turned over, 
 and he disappeared. A real flood of rain increased 
 the sublime horror of the scene. It fell in immense 
 sheets, and so compressed the atmosphere as to almost 
 take away the power of respiration. Every ravine, 
 every depression of the soil, had become a torrent ; 
 and the rock where we stood formed an island in the 
 midst of this sea, which barely a few minutes had 
 sufficed to create. 
 
 "This rain announced the end of the storm. It 
 commenced to lessen its violence ; and, in an hour, the 
 sky began to clear. Gradually the clouds disappeared 
 
38 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 from the horizon, and the rays of the sun illumined the 
 scene of desolation. 
 
 " We passed the night on the rock, and, at dawn of 
 day, we recommenced our journey through the valley, 
 whence the waters had almost subsided. Here and 
 there, indeed, they still stood in large ponds. The 
 prairie, so green and flourishing the day before, was 
 soiled by the deposits from the mountains. Dead 
 bodies of animals were stretched upon the ground, or 
 caught in the branches of uprooted trees. Such, how 
 ever, is the power of vegetation in these countries, 
 that a few days would suffice to make every trace of 
 the tempest disappear. 
 
 "The sun dries up the stagnant waters, the earth 
 is enriched by the alluvial deposits, and troops of vul 
 tures devour the flesh of the rotting brutes that have 
 fallen victims to the fury of the tempestuous hurri 
 cane. 
 
 "I had been astonished that Lewis, ordinarily so 
 prudent, should have sought a refuge beneath a tree 
 whose size and height must, as I naturally thought, 
 have attracted the lightning; and so I observed to 
 him. 
 
 " In the first place, said he, c I had no choice. We 
 had to avoid the danger which menaced us as quickly 
 as possible. If we had remained in the valley, we 
 
INUNDATION. THE RED-SKINS. 39 
 
 must have been inevitably ingulfed by the torrent, 
 or crushed to death amongst the buffaloes and other 
 wild animals which were fleeing in every direction; 
 whereas, in taking refuge beneath a resinous tree, 
 such as the araucaiia, we ran less risk than bencatli 
 one of a different kind. The lightning rarely strikes 
 pines or fir-trees, or larch-trees, because the gum which 
 impregnates them is a bad conductor for electricity. 
 Still we cannot trust to that wholly ; although, yester 
 day, several trees not so high as the one which we 
 chose were struck. Nevertheless, as wise men invaria 
 bly do, of two dangers to which we are exposed, we 
 must choose the lesser. 
 
 " While talking thus, we had reached the edge of 
 the valley, and, cutting a way with a hatchet through 
 a wood where the undergrowth and vines were very 
 dense and tangled, we reached a fine table-land 
 extending far beyond the range of the eye. It was 
 dotted with small clumps of young trees, and enormous 
 rocks, which some terrible revolution of Nature had 
 evidently hurled from the high mountains whose blue 
 peaks were visible on the verge of the horizon. 
 
 "All at once Lewis stopped, stooped down, and 
 pointed out to me some tracks which had recently 
 been left on the damp ground. 
 
 " A man s foot-print, said he. Two Indians of the 
 Blackfeet tribe have passed here only a short while 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 since, following the same route as we do. I can tell 
 them by the imprint of their moccasons. 
 
 " I remarked that I could see only the track of one 
 man, and that he told me there were two. 
 
 "Stoop down, he answered, and notice that the 
 leathern string which fastens the moccason of the 
 second Indian is not in exactly the same place as that 
 of the first. They were walking in the same track, 
 as they invariably do, with extreme cunning, in order 
 to conceal their number by making only one trail; 
 but the mark of the string on the foot of the last has 
 crossed and half obliterated the print of the first. 
 There were two, and but two, I am certain. 
 
 "I was astonished at such sagacity, and began to 
 understand how much the wild life which I now led 
 required experience, coolness, and observation. After 
 examining our arms, and making sure that they were 
 in good order, we continued our way, following the 
 trail, which Lewis detected with wonderful facility. 
 
 u At about two miles from the place where we were, 
 there rose from the midst of the plain a mass of rocks, 
 heaped one upon another, and topped with trees, roots, 
 and vines. The trail which we were upon led to this 
 spot. After walking about half an hour, we came 
 close to these rocks ; and Lewis told me to go round 
 to the left, while he would follow the trail, which led 
 to the right. He recommended me to use very great 
 
INUNDATION. THE RED-SKINS. 41 
 
 prudence, warning me to keep at a little distance from 
 the brush, and not to make use of my arms except in 
 a case of absolute necessity. If we needed each other, 
 we were to imitate the note of the turkey-buzzard, 
 and go to the spot whence came the signal. 
 
 " I made the turn without finding any thing suspi 
 cious ; and, when I got round the rocks, I found Lewis 
 resting on his carbine, waiting for me. There was 
 nothing to disturb us, said he ; but here are the prints 
 of our Blackfeet, leading towards the plain. We will 
 keep in pursuit. 
 
 "After going some distance, Lewis stopped again 
 with an air of astonishment and inquietude. 
 
 " Here is something new, he observed. Thus far 
 they walked regularly, and without hurrying ; but here 
 they began to run. See the print of the moccasons; 
 the toes are printed deeply, the heel does not touch at 
 all, and the steps are much longer. They ran sepa 
 rately, and without taking the trouble to keep in each 
 other s footsteps. Something extraordinary obliged 
 them to change their step. Come on 1 
 
 " We hurried along." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE GRISLY BEAR AND THE BLACKPOOL 
 
 I OUGHT, perhaps, to explain that no regular road 
 traverses these vast plains, nor is there any path indi 
 cated across them. Indeed, it would seem impossible 
 to him who treads them for the first time, to obtain 
 any clew to serve him as a guide through these wild 
 solitudes. Yet it is not so. Without counting the 
 rocks, the trees, the hills, and the streams, which serve 
 as landmarks for the direction both of the Indian and 
 the trapper, there are innumerable little paths, called 
 trails, formed by the different wild animals, which are 
 thickly scattered through these regions. Each species 
 of beast in going to drink, or returning to its regular 
 resort, follows its own track; and this is never con 
 founded with that of any other class. This forms a 
 perfect net-work of thousands of little paths, which 
 
44 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 the practised eye of the native, as well as that of the 
 white hunter, distinguishes easily, and by or across 
 which he guides himself without the slightest hesi 
 tation. 
 
 " Lewis, therefore, still followed the trail he had pre 
 viously pursued,, until he suddenly paused, and called 
 my attention to another which crossed it. It was the 
 mark of a heavy tread of enormous length and size, 
 which one might have taken for the print from the 
 foot of a giant, were it not for the long claws, which 
 were dinted heavily in the earth, and showed very 
 clearly that an animal of huge size must have passed 
 along it. 
 
 " This is the footprint of a grisly bear, said Lewis. 
 4 Now I understand the flight of the Blackfeet. Let 
 us hurry on, and be ready for any chance. Perhaps 
 we may arrive in time to save the lives of these unfor 
 tunate men ; for the trail is quite fresh, and leads 
 directly towards the pile of rocks that lie close to the 
 little grove before us. 
 
 "It seemed to me that it might have been more 
 prudent for us to change our route than to expose 
 ourselves to a meeting with that terrible animal, 
 whose strength and intrepidity are only equalled by 
 its ferocity. The only possible means of an escape 
 from it, when encountered, is to kill it ; and this is an 
 extremely difficult matter, on account both of the 
 
THE GRISLY BEAR AND THE BLACKFOOT. 4f> 
 
 thickness of its hide and fur, as well as its exceeding 
 tenacity of life. 
 
 "Monstrous in its proportions, and with long and 
 very muscular limbs, the grisly runs with great speed. 
 An excellent swimmer, it traverses the most rapid tor 
 rents and the widest rivers without difficulty. While, 
 o great is its strength, that it can break the skull of 
 the bison with a single blow from its paw. 
 
 " You know that I am tolerably prudent, said 
 Lewis, in reply to my observations, as he continued 
 his way. There are, however, times when prudence 
 becomes cowardice. Mind, my boy, I do not style a 
 temerity which is profitable to no one courage. But 
 here the case is a very different one. We have, per 
 haps, the chance offered us to save the life of one of 
 our fellow-beings. Whatever his color may be, let us 
 not forget that he is, like us, a child of the great God, 
 who made all men. He is an enemy, you may perhaps 
 say. The assistance which we shall, in all probability, 
 succeed in rendering him, will possibly render him a 
 true friend ; and, in the wilderness, my lad, a friend is 
 more than a treasure. Those affections are deep and 
 tenacious which spring up between "men who have run 
 the same risks, or exposed their lives for each other. 
 Nor should we refrain, on account of danger, when 
 is a possibility of our saving the life of eren out 
 
46 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 bitterest foe. In Europe you call him a friend whom 
 you meet in a drawing-room, or with whom you sit down 
 to dinner. You meet two or three times, and then you 
 promise each other eternal fidelity, like Jonathan and 
 David. But only let David want to borrow so much 
 money from Jonathan, without having any security to 
 offer, and what is your friendship worth? Jonathan 
 refuses David, and David separates himself from Jona 
 than. The friendship is ended at once. Here in the 
 desert we don t lend our money (coin would bo of 
 little use) ; but we give our lives for our friends, or for 
 a stranger. So, my dear William, let us assist these 
 unfortunates if there is still time. What we would 
 have others do for us we ought always to be ready to 
 do for them. 
 
 "It was not often that Lewis made such a long 
 speech as this. He was evidently deeply moved ; and 
 my heart reproached me for having exposed myself tc 
 such a reproof. 
 
 " Here, at a distance of two thousand miles from my 
 own country, amidst these wilds, I heard a man, almost 
 a child of Nature, recall to my careless will the beau 
 tiful precepts which my dear fostering-father, Berch- 
 told, and the baron my worthy protector, had so often 
 impressed upon me. I blushed deeply as I thought 
 how true it was, that morality has no country, but is 
 
THE GRISLY BEAR AND THE BLACKFOOT. 47 
 
 innate in the hearts of all loyal and honest men, and 
 hurried on after Lewis, who had been rapidly advan 
 cing all the time that he had been speaking. 
 
 "As we marked the steps of the bear, whose huge 
 tread covered the footprints of the Indians, actually 
 almost effacing their trail, it was very evident that it 
 was in close pursuit, and was probably gaining upon 
 them rapidly. When but a few yards from the rocks 
 which we had perceived in the distance, we heaiv] 
 cries, and exclamations of rage, intermingled with 
 fierce growls. A terrible struggle was evidently going 
 on behind them, and, hastening our steps to a rapid 
 run as we rounded the mass of rock, we at length saw 
 what was taking place. 
 
 " An enormous bear, with its mouth and fangs cov 
 ered with blood, was pursuing one of the Blackfcet, 
 who had just wounded it with his lance. 
 
 " On seeing the unexpected assistance which was 
 offered him, he sprang towards us. 
 
 "In another moment, the luckless Indian would have 
 been destroyed by the powerful blow of the monstrous 
 brute. 
 
 " I was but a single foot in advance of Lewis. As 
 the Indian leaped aside, that he might not prevent my 
 aim, I fired. I was but at the distance of some ten 
 feet from the animal ; but, whether from nervousness 01 
 not, I only succeeded in striking it in one of its fore- 
 
48 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 legs, quite close to the shoulder. For a moment, the 
 huge beast paused, as if astonished to meet with a 
 second foe ; then shaking its wounded fore-foot in the 
 air, with a savage and hideous growl, as deep but more 
 dissonant than thunder, it abandoned its pursuit of the 
 Indian, and rushed fiercely towards me. The wound 
 which I had inflicted but a moment since did not 
 seem to have caused it the slightest inconvenience; 
 for, as Lewis afterwards explained to me, the grisly 
 bear is not only extremely tenacious of its life, but will 
 suffer comparatively little from wounds which would 
 completely disable other wild animals. Not infre 
 quently, as he told me, it will travel for many miles 
 after being severely wounded: nay, it will even 
 survive for several hours, after receiving many balls 
 through the lungs and heart. For this reason is it 
 that the most experienced hunters most generally 
 refrain from attacking the grisly when they arc alone, 
 unless there be some tree near at hand into which they 
 can climb for refuge ; so rarely will the animal attempt 
 to follow them amongst its limbs. Subsequently, how 
 ever, I have hoard of one case where a bear did follow 
 an Indian. He had wounded it, and, being closely 
 pursued by the enraged brute, climbed into the leafy 
 safety, as he thought it, of one of the forest monarchs. 
 He was, however, followed closely, and compelled to 
 advance along one of the branches, until, still finding 
 

THE GRISLY BEAR AND THE BLACKFOOT. 49 
 
 the jaws of his vindictive enemy too near him, tho 
 Indian was forced to make a dangerous leap into a 
 neighboring tree to save himself from his pertinacious 
 pursuer. 
 
 " Consequently I had little reason to be astonished 
 when I saw the huge grisly rushing towards me. 
 
 " Seizing my knife, I retreated, preparing to sell my 
 life as dearly as I could, for I scarcely hoped to 
 escape, when Lewis sprang between us. 
 
 "What followed occupied little more than a moment 
 of time. 
 
 " Shouldering his rifle, and aiming it directly at its 
 small but savagely furious eye, he delivered his 
 fire. 
 
 " The bear dropped almost instantaneously. Its 
 huge paws contracted with its dying agony. A last 
 harsh and smothered growl issued from its frightful 
 jaws, and the ferocious beast expired. 
 
 "As we found, on examination, the bullet from 
 Lewis s rifle had passed through its eye directly into 
 its brain, and had at once proved fatal. 
 
 "He had saved my life, and, seizing his hand, I 
 pressed it affectionately to my heart. 
 
 "The whole of the preceding scene had passed in 
 far less time than that which is occupied in here 
 describing it. For as the Indian, who had paused, 
 turned, and was preparing again to attack his formida- 
 
50 THE PIIAIIIIE CRUSOE. 
 
 ble foe, Lewis fired, and with the shot saved him the 
 trouble of doing so. 
 
 "The Blackfoot stood before us, leaning upon his 
 lance. His posture was both noble and dignified. 
 At most but some twenty-five or thirty years of age, 
 the eagle-plume which adorned his head, shaven of all 
 but its scalp-lock, announced, as I afterwards learnt, 
 that he was a warrior-chief of his tribe. From his 
 shoulders fell a buffalo-robe, ornamented with wolves 
 tails, which were so numerous as almost to fringe its 
 sides. His moccasons were worked with beads, feath 
 ers, colored glass, and animals teeth ; while a collar, 
 from which hung the paw of a grisly bear, surrounded 
 his neck, recalling, in all probability, some exploit in 
 which he had been more fortunate than in this one, in 
 which his life would have paid the forfeit, had it not 
 been for our assistance. 
 
 " It was with a deep curiosity that I examined him. 
 This was the first time that I had found myself in the 
 presence of one of that race, whose manners are so 
 widely different from our o\vn, and of whom, even in 
 Europe, I had seen and heard so much." 
 
CHAFTEK VII. 
 
 THE JAGUAK. HIS COMRADE. 
 
 "AFTER a, few moments had elapsed, during which 
 neither Lewis nor myself had spoken a word, the 
 Blackfoot made a dignified gesture with his right arm, 
 and, with a slow and stately accent, broke the silence. 
 
 " I am named the Jaguar. I was about to meet my 
 death, and pass into the land of the spirits, when Wa- 
 condah - -I subsequently learnt that this is the name 
 given by che Blackfect to their principal deity sent 
 my pale young brother to help me with the white 
 hunter, tfhose inevitable ball killed the bear of the 
 prairie. They have saved my life. Let them take it ; 
 for the scalps of the pale-face are hung at the door of 
 my wigwam. 
 
 " If my brother the Jaguar, replied Lewis, has 
 shed the blood of his pale brethren without being 
 compelled to do so in his own defence, the Great 
 
 61 
 
52 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 Spirit shall one clay judge him. He will, in his turn, 
 fall unrler the blow of the pale-face. To-day, his white 
 brothers have saved his life, and they will not take it 
 away. My brother is free. He may depart. But, 
 added Lewis, the Jaguar was not alone : a warrior 
 was with him. Has he fled ? Why did he not defend 
 his brother? Whv did he leave him exposed to the 
 rage of the bear of the prairies ?* 
 
 " The white hunter is mistaken, answered the 
 Indian with a sad dignity. C A Blackfoot does not fly. 
 He knows how to leave the hunting-grounds of his 
 countrymen. 
 
 "Then, with a grave and melancholy gesture, he 
 made a sign for us to follow him. 
 
 " About fifty steps from the spot on which we were 
 then standing, we found the dead body of the com 
 panion of the Jaguar. It was frightfully torn and 
 mutilated. The expression of the motionless face be 
 trayed the mingled rage and terror of the Indian when 
 he had found himself seized by tne infuriated animal. 
 It was here that the struggle had commenced, and that 
 the bear, in its savage pursuit of the two Blackfeet, 
 had overtaken them, and, before they had the opportu 
 nity to defend themselves, had torn with its enormous 
 paws, the life from the young warrior whom we saw 
 Btretched upon the ground at our feet. 
 
 " As Lewis had suspected, it was at the first pile of 
 
THE JAGUAR. HIS COMRADE. 
 
 rock which we had passed around, that the grisly, 
 hitherto concealed by the tall grass, amongst which it 
 had been crouching, had seen the Indians, and had 
 started to pursue them. Taken completely by sur 
 prise, they had immediately changed their cautious 
 inarch for a rapid flight from the ferocious beast. Its 
 speed, however (for, in spite of its .large size, the grisly 
 bear can run with great rapidity), rendered their flight 
 unavailing. They had consequently turned upon the 
 brute at this spot, where the companion of the Jaguar 
 had met his doom. 
 
 "The three of us dug a grave with our knives. 
 This was a work of some time, for it was dug deep 
 in order that the dead might experience an uninter 
 rupted repose. 
 
 " Then we laid the body of the Indian in his last 
 home, with all his weapons, except his tomahawk, 
 which his companion the Jaguar retained. 
 
 "After covering the grave with some large fragments 
 and bowlders of rock, and the trunk of a fallen tree 
 which lay near, in order to protect the corpse of the 
 Jaguar s friend from the intrusive jaws of the wild 
 beasts, which might be expected to disturb the grave, 
 Lewis and myself retired on one side, leaving our 
 newly made Indian friend alone. 
 
 " Although I had read that the Indian warrior but 
 rarely exhibits any traces of strong sorrow in his bear- 
 
t>4 THE PRAIHTE CRUSOE. 
 
 ing, let me own that I anticipated seeing something 
 like regret or sorrow shown in the features of the 
 Jaguar. 
 
 " It was not so. 
 
 "He stood for a few moments, at the side of tho 
 grave which contained the body of him who was so 
 lately his companion, motionless, gazing upon it. He 
 was apparently unmoved. His eyes were grave, still, 
 and calm. His mouth was curved as it had before 
 been, and did not in any way betray the feelings which 
 must have been struggling in his breast. After the 
 few moments had elapsed, he stooped, and, picking up 
 a handful of the earth which had been disturbed by 
 our knives, tossed it in an easterly direction, saying, as 
 he did so, a few words in his own tongue. After doing 
 this, he turned, and strode towards the spot to which I 
 had retired in company with Lewis. 
 
 " My pale brother is young, but he has no fear. Let 
 him take this tomahawk, he said, offering me the 
 hatchet of the dead brave. c It shall be in his hands, 
 as it had been in those of my red brother, the terror 
 of his enemies. Let my white brothers know that the 
 Jaguar is not forgetful. He will remember, and his 
 ears shall ever be open. Let his pale brothers call for 
 him when they will, and he shall come to them, al 
 though it may be from beyond the. great river. The 
 Jaguar has but one word to-day or to-morrow. He 
 has spoken. 
 
THE JAGUAR. TITS COMRADE />. ) 
 
 "Ending with these words, he laid th/ A*. /v.mi of 
 his right hand on my chest, over my heart, und then 
 over that of Lewis, signifying, as the latter afterwards 
 told me, that he pledged himsett to become our 
 brother. Then, bowing with un air *of easy and 
 graceful majesty, he turned ftou us, and slowly strode 
 away. 
 
 " My eyes followed his lofty and finely proportioned 
 figure, until it had passed across a rising ground, and 
 had disappeared from our sight. Then I again turned 
 to Lewis." 
 
CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 THE CACHE. HORSE-HUNTING. 
 
 "WE were once more alone, but we now had in these 
 immense solitudes a friend on whom we could count ; 
 for pledged faith is a sacred thing among these people 
 whom we call savages, and who re-unite in themselves 
 the fierce and sanguinary instincts of wild beasts, and 
 the primitive virtues of the ancient shepherd races. 
 
 " I was happy in possessing a hatchet. Lewi? had 
 given me one of the long knives which he carried in 
 his belt. My own rifle was an excellent one ; but a 
 tomahawk is a terrible weapon, whose value cannot be 
 estimated save in the adventurous life of the Great 
 West. 
 
 " Lewis, on his part, was not less content. The fur 
 of the grisly bear was an object of value ; for the trap 
 pers rarely attack this animal, because of the great 
 danger. Consequently, his skin is more rarely found 
 in market. 
 
 57 
 
58 THE PRATRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " It was necessary to dispose of our prey as quickly 
 as possible ; for the heat was great, and any long delay 
 would injure the beauty of the fur. So we went to 
 work at once, and, with the help of our knives, we 
 separated the flesh and fat which adhered to the skin 
 of the bear. A little stream, which was near the 
 place, served us to wash away every vestige of flesh. 
 
 "We could not possibly carry this enormous spoil, 
 and yet Lewis wished to get it to one of his caches, 
 which was, he said, only twelve or fifteen miles dis 
 tant. 
 
 " I must here explain what the inhabitants of thee 
 parts understand by a cache. They mean a hole dug 
 in the ground with very great care, and covered over 
 and concealed with every possible precaution. Yet 
 the Indians often discover them by slight signs, which 
 would escape any other than men accustomed to study 
 Nature in its minutest details, and in its slightest 
 changes. I shall soon have occasion to describe one 
 of these caches, where the hunters of the prairie and 
 the nomadic Indians bury all they do not take with 
 them, arms, powder, lead, furs, plumes, and others of 
 their spoils which they may not desire to carry with 
 them until their return to civilization. 
 
 " Lewis had remarked in the prairie the tracks of 
 wild horses, and, presuming that a band of these ani 
 mals could not be far offj wished to become master 
 
THE CACHE. HORSE-HUNTING. 59 
 
 of one of them in order that the skin of the bear 
 might be easily transported to the cache of which he 
 had spoken. We consequently made the necessary 
 preparations to pursue one. 
 
 "Having carefully spread the skin on the ground, 
 and secured it with large stones for the purpose of 
 preserving its shape, we covered it with branches and 
 brush, over which we rolled some trunks of trees 
 blown down by the wind, or struck by lightning. 
 With this precaution, we had no occasion to fear its 
 destruction by wild beasts. We left the flesh of the 
 bear to the vultures, who were already circling about 
 our heads, and to the wolves, whose hoarse howling 
 we could hear in the distant woods. 
 
 "After lighting a fire, we made an excellent meal 
 off one of the paws roasted in the ashes ; and then, 
 taking our arms, we directed our steps towards the 
 upper end of the prairie, keeping the Wind against us, 
 so as not to be discovered by the wild horses, who 
 have an extremely keen scent. 
 
 " Reaching the top of a little woody hill, we saw, in 
 the plain beyond, an immense troop of them quietly 
 feeding on the thick grass. 
 
 "It was a magnificent sight. The superb animals 
 formed the most varied groups; some playing to 
 gether, apparently trying their speed, others immova 
 ble, with neck outstretched and ears thrown back, 
 
60 THE PIIAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 expanded nostrils and wandering eyes, as thej inter 
 rogated the thousand sounds or scents which might 
 possibly disturb their sense of security. 
 
 " Here and there, mares, surrounded by their foals, 
 watched them frisking and galloping about, when, 
 suddenly trembling for their safety at the distant bark 
 of a wolf, or the cry of the white eagle, they drove 
 them before them, and hastened to regain the main 
 troop. 
 
 "Three splendid animals were grazing quietly at 
 some little distance from the rest, and on one of them 
 Lewis had cast his eye as he prepared his lasso. 
 
 "The lasso, which is used by hunters to catch horses, 
 antelopes, and other animals alive, consists of a leath 
 ern string, or strap, about twenty or twenty-five yards 
 long, one end of which the hunter holds in his hand if 
 on foot, or fastens to his saddle if on horseback. The 
 other end has either a running knot, or is composed of 
 two straps six or eight feet long, fastened to the main 
 strap, and having at their extremity a ball or stone 
 securely fixed. 
 
 " The lasso used by Lewis had two bullets instead 
 of a running knot, which is not so sure. 
 
 "We skirted the plain, following the side of tlio 
 woody hill where we had entered it, and hiding our 
 selves cautiously behind the bushes, which stretched 
 down to that part of the level ground where were the 
 
THE CACHE. HORSE-HUNTING. 61 
 
 three horses. When about five hundred feet from 
 them, Lewis told me not to move, to let him act, and 
 to wait till he should call if he needed me. He then 
 cut a number of branches, with which he made a sort 
 of artificial bush, which shaded him completely, and 
 prevented the horses from perceiving him. After this, 
 holding before him in his left hand this movable bush, 
 and in his right the lasso, which was loosely coiled 
 over his right shoulder, bending down, he slowly and 
 cautiously descended the hill towards the horses, still 
 avoiding to move before the wind. 
 
 " Scarcely had he advanced fifty feet when the 
 animals showed signs of inquietude. One of them 
 especially, who was the nearest, pricked up his ears, 
 looked around him, sniffed the air ; and seeing nothing 
 in the bushes, which appeared natural enough, he 
 began to graze again. Lewis, who had stopped, re 
 commenced his slow and measured step, almost seem 
 ing to creep on the ground. 
 
 " Whenever a horse raised his head, and turned in his 
 directiojn, Lewis remained motionless, and waited pa 
 tiently till the animal returned to his grazing. At last, 
 the nearest horse was only thirty feet from him. Then 
 throwing down his artificial bush, no longer needed, 
 he threw the lasso with a powerful jerk round the legs 
 of the horse, who made a bound to escape. However, 
 before his feet touched the ground again, the balls of 
 
62 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOb. 
 
 the lasso, turning rapidly, were twisted around them 
 and intertwisted, and the poor beast fell over in the 
 grass. 
 
 "At the movement of the hunter and the sound of 
 the lasso, the two other, horses started with lightning 
 speed, and when I came, at the call of Lewis, they 
 were out of sight in company with the rest of the 
 troop. Almost in an instant, this plain, which had 
 been covered with beautiful animals, had become a 
 silent desert. 
 
 "The captive sought, with violent efforts, to free him 
 self from the cords which bound him; but the efforts 
 were useless, and served only to draw them still tighter. 
 He tried to stand upon his feet, and rolled over from 
 side to side, trying to seize one of us with his teeth. 
 
 " When I came up, Lewis made me hold the lasso, 
 and, approaching adroitly, threw a piece of cloth over 
 the head of the animal, which, deprived of sight, be 
 came more quiet. It was then easy to fasten his legs 
 so that he could rise without being able to escape. 
 And, in fact, he rose immediately, but stood still. His 
 whole body trembled, and an abundant perspiration 
 streaked his panting sides. 
 
 "Lewis, without uncovering his eyes, passed a cord 
 around his mouth to prevent biting, and blew repeat 
 edly in his nostrils; which he continued to do for 
 nearly half an hour. 
 
THE CACHE. HORSE-HUNTING. 63 
 
 "The muscles of the animal gradually relaxed 
 Drooping his head, his knees bent; and finally ho 
 dropped upon the grass. He was vanquished. 
 
 " Lewis then uncovered his eyes. The poor beast 
 looked at us with astonishment and fear, but did not 
 attempt to escape ; and, when Lewis made him rise, he 
 suffered himself to be led to the nearest tree, where 
 he was fastened by a cord long enough to allow him 
 to graze. His legs, however, were still bound, so as 
 to prevent any return to his former violence. 
 
 "We sat down at a little distance, and refreshed 
 ourselves by eating something. We were both tired, 
 Lewis especially, on account of the energetic resist 
 ance of our captive. 
 
 " Before starting on our return to the spot where we 
 had left the bear-skin, Lewis breathed again in the 
 nostrils of the horse, after having once more covered 
 his eyes. He was now submissive enough, and, when 
 they were uncovered again, was almost docile, and 
 walked between us. We, however, each held the end 
 of a cord, which was tied to him by way of precau 
 tion. Only we lengthened the cords on his legs in 
 order that he might step easily. 
 
 "Approaching the rock where the bloody drama had 
 occurred in which we had taken part, the air wag 
 darkened by the clouds of vultures which were feast 
 ing on the body of the bear, tearing from each other 
 
64 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 the strips of flesh which they had disputed with 
 numerous body of wolves. 
 
 " There was an outrageous noise ; but our approach 
 restored order. A couple of gun-shots drove off the 
 marauders, who, however, were quarrelling over well- 
 picked bones; for they had lost no time, and nothing 
 was left of the bear but the skeleton, to which adhered 
 still a few shreds of half-torn flesh. 
 
 "We passed several days near this spot. It was 
 necessary to finish the education of our horse, which 
 was not easy; for he was of a more savage nature than 
 prairie horses generally are. Once overcome, they are 
 ordinarily easily accustomed to obedience, although 
 quick to take again to their wild life on the first oppor 
 tunity. Moreover, Lewis wished to profit by the occa 
 sion to increase the number of our furs, since the horse 
 could easily transport them to the cache. So in the 
 morning early, Lewis would set out in search of game, 
 while I remained to keep watch over our horse, pro 
 visions, and skins. 
 
 " We were in a tolerably safe and comfortable spot, 
 with a huge, overhanging rock behind us, surrounded 
 by large trees and bushes. We could see the whole 
 plain, and it would be almost impossible for man or 
 beast to approach without being perceived. In case 
 of attack, defence was easy : so Lewis did not hesitate 
 to leave me, trusting to my prudence and courage, and 
 
THE CACHE. HORSE-HUNTING. 
 
 65 
 
 teady, moreover, to hasten, at the first report of my 
 gun, to the rock. 
 
 "Lewis having secured as many furs as we couM 
 conveniently transport, one morning we made our 
 preparations to depart. The skin of the bear was 
 withdrawn from its place of concealment, and found in 
 good condition. It was so heavy, that our united 
 strength was necessary to put it on the back of the 
 horse. To it Lewis added his other skins, and our pro 
 visions, and we set out for the spot where was the cache, 
 in which we expected to find a fresh supply of ammu 
 nition. 
 
 "The journey was accomplished without accident, 
 and the next day we reached the banks of a magnifi 
 cent river, a branch of the Missouri, whose limpid 
 waters rolled between two prairies covered with small 
 groves of trees and most brilliantly varied flowers. 
 Lewis stopped, looked around him, and went towards 
 an enormous tree whose roots were extended into 
 the water; then turning his back to the river, he 
 counted three hundred paces into the prairie, and 
 marked the spot with the branch of a tree, lie then 
 sought the bank of a ravine, whose bed was dry, and 
 counted thence three hundred paces at right angles 
 with his first path. On reaching the point of intersec 
 tion, he struck the ground with the butt of his rifle, 
 saying, Here it is. 
 
 5 
 
66 THE PKAI1UK CltUSOE. 
 
 " I had watched his proceeding without understand 
 ing it at all. So tying the horse to a tree, I ran to the 
 spot where Lewis stood. 
 
 " * This is the spot, said he, * and I believe my cache 
 has not been disturbed. 
 
 "I observed that he might be mistaken, that his 
 paces might not have been equally measured, and 
 that an error of some yards was quite possible. With 
 out replying, he took me to a little distance, and, 
 pointing out the place, 
 
 " Don t you see, said he, that, for a square yard or 
 so, the grass is greener and more evenly rich than else- 
 w here ? This is not visible when we are close to it ; 
 but, at this distance, it might discover it to the practised 
 eye of an Indian : this is because, the earth having 
 been loosened and disturbed, the herbage over it has 
 more opportunity to extend its roots, and find more 
 abundant nourishment than in a compact soil. A more 
 luxuriant vegetation is the inconvenient indication of a 
 cache ; but it can hardly be avoided. And now lot us 
 to work. 
 
 " By the side of the ravine grew large quantities of 
 reeds, and we cut enough to make, in a short time, half 
 a dozen large, coarse mats, good enough, however, for 
 the use intended. 
 
 " We In id them by the side of the spot where we were 
 to dig; then, with our knives, we cut the sods in squares, 
 
THE CACHE. HOUSE-HUNTING. 
 
 67 
 
 which we carefully removed, taking care not to disturb 
 the earth on their roots. When the sods were re 
 moved, it was necessary to remove the earth below 
 with our knives and hands, and place it on the mats 
 which surrounded us. 
 
 "This was a long and fatiguing labor, and we were 
 obliged to rest from time to time. At last, after two 
 hours hard work, I came to some branches which were 
 covering packages and bundles carefully done up in 
 coarse skins. 
 
 " This was Lewis s treasure. 
 
 " There were fine rifles, knives, hatchets, powder and 
 ball, traps, and furs of all kinds. These had first been 
 wrapped in woollen coverings, and afterwards in but- 
 falo-hidcs. 
 
 "We enlarged the hole in order to accommodate 
 our new riches, and after having taken some traps, 
 ammunition, and a long Indian knife, which Lewis 
 gave me, we replaced the rest carefully, adding the 
 bear-skin, and the other furs. 
 
 "Then came the work of throwing in the earth 
 again with our hands, and treading it down with oui 
 feet. When it was at length on a level with the soil, 
 we replaced the sods as carefully as possible, and threw 
 into the river the remaining earth, and the mats, which 
 were no longer needed. 
 
 "I was enchanted with our work. We had raised 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 up again the plants, which were trodden down by oui 
 Fett, and, at a little distance, the spot could not be dis 
 tinguished from the rest of the prairie ; and nothing, 
 at> least I thought so, could lead one to suspect it." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A TBIP ON THE WATER. THE PURSUIT. 
 
 were to continue our journey on foot, and, as 
 we needed the horse no longer, Lewis set him free. 
 
 "The noble animal seemed astonished, at first, at 
 finding himself free from any check ; but he did not 
 leave us at once. He remained near us, suffering us 
 to caress him, and cropping the grass at our feet. 
 Then he went off a few steps, made a few bounds, and 
 stopped to look at us. All at once he threw back his 
 ears, and raised his head ; then, giving a loud neigh, 
 he set off like an arrow towards the bottom of the 
 valley, and in a few minutes was out of sight. 
 
 " His keen scent had doubtless revealed the where 
 abouts of some troop of horses. 
 
 " For a whole fortnight, our journey offered no inci 
 dent worth mentioning. 
 
 "We travelled towards the north, setting our 
 
 69 
 
70 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 crossing rivers and water-courses, sometimes by fords> 
 sometimes on rafts, which we constructed very readily 
 from trunks of trees, bound together with reeds, and 
 which we hid afterwards in the bushes, in case we 
 might return on our steps. 
 
 " We had reached the territory of the Blackfeet, a 
 savage tribe, then at war with the whites, and to which 
 belonged the Indian whom we had saved from the 
 claws of the grisly bear. 
 
 " Lewis trusted little, he said, to the promises of the 
 Jaguar; for while admitting that he might remembei 
 the friendship which he had pledged to us, and the 
 protection which he had promised to his rescuers (and 
 this was probable, as the red-skins religiously keep 
 their word), still he might not be a chief of sufficient 
 influence to shield us from threatened danger. More 
 over, the tribes are divided into sections, obedient to 
 different chiefs, and we might fall into the hands of 
 Indians who would sacrifice us, without regard to his 
 promises or interposition on our behalf. 
 
 " Hence we advanced with very great prudence, 
 keeping under cover of the woods, and building fires 
 with only the very dryest branches, in order to pro 
 duce the least possible amount of smoke. This was 
 only done to prepare our food. 
 
 " We had encamped on the shore of one of the 
 branches of the Missouri, called Jefferson s Fork, and 
 
A TRIP ON THE WATER. 1 
 
 each evening we set our traps along the little stream 
 which flowed into it. At sunrise we withdrew our 
 traps, and passed the day in preparing the skins of our 
 game. Lewis had designedly chosen this spot for 
 remaining several days. He had a canoe hidden in 
 the reeds, at a little distance, and, as the number of 
 furs were too great for us to carry them any farther 
 with us, it was necessary to dig a new cache, unless 
 we found some means of transport for our booty. 
 
 One morning, Lewis went to seek his canoe, leaving 
 me in charge of the camp. Two hours afterwards, 
 my ear, now accustomed to the sounds of the prairie 
 and the forest, caught that of an oar, striking the 
 water with precaution. I was creeping towards the 
 river to reconnoitre, when I heard the cry of the mar 
 tin, thrice repeated. This was the signal which we 
 had agreed upon, and, in a few moments, Lewis showed 
 
 himself. 
 
 "His canoe was built in the Indian fashion, with 
 room for eight or ten persons, while two could easily 
 manage it. Dug out of the trunk of a tree, it was 
 very light, sat high in the water, and rose gracefully 
 at the two extremities. A long pole thrown across 
 the middle served as a balance-weight. We pro 
 ceeded at once to remove our various articles into it, 
 and then, hiding the canoe again in the reeds, waited 
 for night before embarking. 
 
72 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " We were to go down Jefferson s Fork to the Mis- 
 souri, and up the branch where was Lewis s cache, 
 whence we would seek some settlement, and make our 
 way to St. Louis. 
 
 " It was not without regret that I left these immense 
 prairies, amidst which Providence had cast my present 
 life, to undertake this long and dangerous voyage. A 
 feeling of sadness possessed my heart; and I scarcely 
 know what gloomy presentiment made me regret the 
 life which I had led since my happy meeting with 
 Lewis. 
 
 " I felt the same attachment to him as to a brother. 
 His cool intrepidity in danger, the wisdom of his ad 
 vice, his even disposition, his solicitude for my welfare, 
 his great experience in our present life, his frankness, 
 all conspired to render him agreeable to all who met 
 him, and whom he himself might feel a liking for. 
 
 " But our voyage was to end in separation, perhaps 
 forever. I did not let Lewis surmise the sentiments 
 which filled my heart, and tried to drive away my 
 gloomy forebodings, as I prepared for our departure. 
 
 "When night was come we embarked, and, taking 
 the middle of the stream, we followed the current. 
 The sky was serenely beautiful, and, although the 
 moon was not above the horizon, we could easily dis 
 tinguish the banks of the Fork. They were high and 
 steep, and threw their shadows far into the river 
 
A TRIP ON THE WATER. 73 
 
 Enormous trees grew on the rocky sides of it, and 
 from their branches numerous parasites hung, even to 
 the water s edge. Occasionally the shores approached 
 each other quite closely, leaving but a narrow channel, 
 which was entirely overshadowed by the overhanging 
 foliage. 
 
 " Glow-worms and fire-flies glimmered with their 
 phosphorescent light, in and above the grass, flashing 
 here and there like will-o -the-wisps. 
 
 " Far away we could hear the noise of the foxes and 
 wolves, as well as an occasional jaguar. Nothing 
 could be more charming than this calm and tranquil 
 night, where our frail bark alone announced the pres 
 ence of man. 
 
 " When day dawned, we drew up our canoe to the 
 reedy shore, and, concealing it carefully, passed the 
 day at the foot of a large tree, or under a large rock ; 
 for we were not to travel by day until we had passed 
 beyond the limits of the territory of the Blackfeet. 
 
 "The third evening of our voyage was dark and 
 cloudy. The bed of the river was scarcely visible, 
 and, in narrow places, we found it difficult to keep the 
 middle of the channel, avoiding the branches and 
 vines, which might have overturned our canoe. 
 
 " We had been about two hours on our way, when 
 Lewis told me to stop the paddle, and bent down to 
 the surface of the water to listen. 
 
74 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " We are followed ! said he. Listen ! 
 " I did so, and heard distinctly the sound of oars in 
 the water. 
 
 " This fact could but indicate danger, which must bo 
 avoided at any price; and we began to urge along our 
 vflnoe as fast as possible. 
 
 " It sped along like an arrow, but, in spite of our 
 efforts, the sound behind us grew louder and more dis 
 tinct. We were evidently losing ground, and, in a 
 short time, we must be overtaken by those who were 
 in pursuit. 
 
 "At this moment we heard the most frightful yells. 
 The Blackfeet (for it was they who pursued) had long 
 heard us moving ahead of them, and perceiving by 
 the speed we were making, as well as by the sound of 
 our paddles, that we were on our guard, they did not 
 hesitate to betray their presence. 
 
 "Their yells, resounding from shore to shore, were 
 absolutely demoniacal. The birds, awakened by the 
 clamor, flew about uttering sharp cries, and the wild 
 beasts bounded away from the shores to their haunts. 
 
 " * We are probably lost, said Lewis. There is but 
 one chance for safety, and I will try it. To attempt a 
 struggle would be a folly, and could but retard our 
 death for a short time. 
 
 " A little in front of where we were, stretched out 
 several feet over the water, was an enormous tree, half 
 
A TRIP ON THE WATER. Tu 
 
 overturned in some hurricane. To this Lewis guided 
 the canoe. We slung our guns over our shoulder, 
 and, as we passed under the tree, caught hold of its 
 branches, and in a moment had concealed ourselves in 
 its dense foliage. 
 
 "Lewis, with a blow of his foot, had sent the canoe 
 into the current, and we saw.it rapidly float away with 
 every thing which we possessed, and which we had 
 labored so hard to collect. 
 
 " In a very short time, four pirogues, each containing 
 from fifteen to twenty Indians, passed before us. 
 
 " It is a respite, said Lewis; but the danger is not 
 
 over: 
 
 "In fact, he had scarcely uttered the words, when 
 we heard their cries of rage. They had found our 
 canoe empty, and were vociferating loudly at the 
 disappointment. After this, silence once more reigned 
 complete. 11 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 TBB FIGHT. LOSS OP A FRIEND. WILLIAM A 
 PRISONER. 
 
 "OiiR situation was critical; for to one who knew 
 the habits of the red-skins, as Lewis did, it was certain 
 that they had not renounced their pursuit of us, and 
 that they would explore the neighborhood in such a 
 manner as to prevent our eluding capture by them. 
 
 " For two days and two nights, we remained in the 
 tree which had saved us. Our strength had been 
 maintained by some slices of smoked beef, which 
 Lewis had taken the precaution to put in his game- 
 bag, and we descended a branch with great precaution 
 to drink from the river. But our slender stock of pro 
 visions was now completely exhausted, and, come what 
 might, we were obliged to leave our shelter. 
 
 " After examining our arms, and being satisfied that 
 they were all right, we began to climb tae rock where 
 hung the tree which had been our protection. Reach- 
 
 77 
 
78 THE PI1AIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 ing the summit, we examined the country careful!} 
 and, seeing nothing to awaken suspicion, we set out. 
 
 " After something more than an hour s walk, during 
 which the most perfect silence was observed by us, we 
 had reached a narrow piece of ground between the 
 woods and the river, when, all of a sudden, some 
 twenty Indians rose, with a yell of triumph, from the 
 bushes, and dashed towards us. 
 
 " We were ready in a moment to receive them, and 
 the first two who approached fell, struck by our bullets 
 in the chest. At this sight, the rest were for a moment 
 undecided ; and we profited by the delay to gain the 
 bank of the river, at a sandy spot free from bushes. 
 There, hatchet in hand, for immediate protection, we 
 reloaded our pieces. 
 
 "But a short distance from us, there was a canoe, 
 which Lewis told me, in English, to approach gradu 
 ally, while he kept them at bay. I obeyed immedi 
 ately; but our project was suspected, and a warrioi ran 
 hastily to cut me off. 
 
 " There was no time to hesitate ; so I ran at liim, 
 and, before he could defend himself, a blo\v of my 
 hatchet despatched him. 
 
 " To jump into the canoe, and cut the cord, was but 
 a, moment s work. In another minute, Lewis jumped 
 into the water, and was by my side. A shower of 
 arrows fell about us ; but we thought only of flight. 
 
THE FIGHT. LOSS OF A F1UEND. 79 
 
 " We had gained the current, when two canues full 
 of warriors left the other shore, and came straight 
 towards us. The Indians who pursued us swam out, 
 and, in a moment, we were surrounded on all sides. 
 
 "We fought bravely, but without hope; and, at 
 last, I saw my poor Lewis, struck by an arrow, fall into 
 the river, and disappear. 
 
 "I was seized with despair, which redoubled my 
 strength. I could see nothing around me, and the 
 resistance which my arm received alone indicated to 
 me when I had struck an assailant. 
 
 " Worn out at last, overwhelmed by numbers, I fell 
 in the bottom of the canoe, and the knives of the In 
 dians flashed over me, when a warrior leaped into the 
 boat, and, dashing aside the weapons, exclaimed, 
 
 " Stop ! the pale-face is brave and courageous. lie 
 has made. the blood of our brethren flow. His death 
 in the battle would be too sweet. He ought to be 
 fastened to the stake. 
 
 " Cries of joy welcomed these words. In an instant, 
 I was bound, taken on the shoulders of a captor, and 
 placed upon the shore. 
 
 " I was in deep grief, not at the tortures which were 
 soon to try me, but at the loss of my good Lewis. I 
 could only think of him. 
 
 "He had fallen while defending my life. It was 
 partly for my sake that he had undertaken the trip, 
 
80 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 and I reproached myself as being the cause of his 
 death. I had seen him sink beneath the blows of fero 
 cious enemies, and now understood better than ever 
 
 > 
 before how dear he indeed was to me. 
 
 "I felt that man is not created to live alone, and 
 that the instinct of sociability which God has placed in 
 our soul is a law which we must perforce obey. 
 
 "The friendship of which Lewis had spoken was 
 revealing itself in me, and I felt as if part of my very 
 being was gone with the companion of my life. 
 
 " In order, however, that my weakness might not be 
 interpreted as cowardice, I succeeded in overcoming 
 my sorrow, and intimated to those who carried me, 
 that, not being wounded, I wished to walk. 
 
 " They put me down, and a warrior came up to 
 loosen the cords which bound my feet. As he bent 
 over me, I seemed to hear a low voice whisper in my 
 ear, Silence^ hope!"* Raising my eyes, I saw the 
 same Indian who had turned aside the weapons of 
 death in the canoe. It was the Jaguar, whom Lewis 
 and myself had saved from the bear. I kept quiet, 
 exchanging a rapid glance with him, and we renewed 
 our march. 
 
 " After two hours of fatiguing progress through the 
 woods, we came to a clearing, in the midst of which 
 was the camp of the Blackfeet. 
 
 " It was a summer village, composed of huts located 
 
THE FIGHT. LOSS OF A FRIEND. 81 
 
 without any regard to symmetry. In the midst of it 
 was a large open space, reserved for their assemblies. 
 
 " A stake was quickly arranged in the middle, and 
 I was bound to it securely by thongs of buffalo-hide. 
 
 " They placed before me the bodies of the warriors 
 slain by Lewis and myself, while two men sat by rny 
 side to prevent any attempt at escape. 
 
 t; All the braves of the tribe entered one hut much 
 larger than the others, where, evidently, a council was 
 being held for the purpose of deciding my fate. 
 
 " Meanwhile, the wives and sisters of the dead war 
 riors uttered most lamentable cries, and tore their hair, 
 seeking vainly, as it were, to restore life to the bodies 
 already stiffened and cold in death. 
 
 " They overwhelmed me with reproaches, threw sand 
 and stones at me, and flew at me to tear me with their 
 nails. Indeed, I should have perished by their hands, 
 had it not been for rny two guards. 
 
 "The council was not long. The Blackfeet came 
 out, uttering loud yells, and one of the chiefs came to 
 tell me, that, as I had been brave in combat, I was to 
 die the death of the brave, by fire. 
 
 " Immediately the women began to bring armfuls of 
 Kticks. These were dry, in order that the smoke might 
 not be too thick, and suffocate me before I could feel 
 the terrible fire. They placed them at a little distance 
 from the stake, through a refinement of cruelty, tha 
 
 6 
 
82 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 my punishment might be longer, and my tortures the 
 greater. 
 
 "I had committed my soul to God, and bidden 
 adieu to all that I held dear on earth. My memory 
 carried me back to the happy days of my childhood, 
 and I was enabled to preserve a cairn demeanor 
 throughout these horrid preparations. 
 
 "I had injured no one, save to defend my threatened 
 life. I had exposed my own existence to save that of 
 my fellows. I had invariably followed the wise advice 
 of my adopted father and the baron, and now, confid 
 ing in the divine mercy, I prepared to rejoin the 
 worthy Berchtold and my good Lewis in the eternal 
 heaven, whither they had preceded me. 
 
 " This calmness, which I drew from my belief and the 
 purity of my conscience, was looked upon by the In 
 dians as bravado, and an insult to their preparations. 
 
 "They overwhelmed me with the vilest reproaches 
 and insults, hoping to arouse my anger; but, given up 
 to my sweet memories and Christian hopes, my face 
 was unmoved and impassible. 
 
 " Then commenced their dance of death. 
 
 " Each warrior, armed for the combat, made a thou 
 sand contortions to the sound of their almost infernal 
 music, and sprang at me as if to end my agony at a 
 blow. It was as if they had wagered as to who should 
 show the greatest skill in hurling their tomahawk of 
 
THE FIGHT. LOSS OF A FRIEND. 83 
 
 their darts at the stake in closest proximity to my 
 head. 
 
 "The Jaguar was among the others, and made him 
 self remarkable by his anger and rage when he ap 
 proached me. Twice I thought he was about to cleave 
 my head with a blow of his tomahawk ; but he was re 
 strained by those who accompanied him, and who did 
 not wish to be deprived of the pleasure of assisting at 
 my sufferings when the pile should at last be lit." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE GRATITUDE OP THE JAGUAR. MY ESCAPE. 
 
 " DURING these preparations, the sky had gradually 
 become covered with dense clouds, rolling over it from 
 the horizon. Indeed, every thing denoted a speedy 
 and violent storm. Nor was it long before it burst 
 forth in all its savage strength. A heavy rain fell 
 upon us, accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning, 
 and almost continuous peals of thunder, which, in a 
 very brief space of time, inundated the whole village. 
 It was, therefore, by common consent, decided that my 
 punishment was to be deferred ; and the elders of the 
 tribe appointed the dawn of the next day for it 
 to take place upon. I was then, as they said, to go 
 and rejoin my fathers, in the abode of the Gr^U Spirit. 
 
 " It was the Jaguar who came to free me from the 
 stake. 
 
 a After making me take some food, in the n <M of a 
 
 85 
 
80 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 circle of Indians, who looked on in dead silence, he led 
 me away to the eastern end of the village. Here he 
 bound me to a large pine-tree, and as the storm had 
 now mitigated its first violence, and the clouds were 
 rapidly passing away, a fire was lighted before me, and 
 four Blackfeet crouched by it, prepared to watch their 
 prisoner through the night. 
 
 " The Jaguar had placed me with my face turned 
 towards the fire. As he passed the thongs around my 
 waist, and knotted them on my wrists, he said nothing. 
 But as he passed behind the pine, to fasten them to 
 its trunk, I heard him say, in an undertone which was 
 scarcely a whisper, 
 
 " Let not my pale brother speak, but let him listen, 
 and pay attention to the voice of the owl when he 
 hears it. 
 
 "Without uttering another word, he turned, and 
 disappeared among the huts of the village. 
 
 "Three hours passed away, which may safely be 
 named as three of the longest hours I had ever known. 
 At first, I had reflected upon the words of the Jaguar 
 with something akin to hope ; but, after a while, I re 
 lapsed into an apathetic indifference to my condition, 
 as I reflected upon its hopelessness, and my thoughts 
 reverted to the baron, to Stanislas, and to little Bertha. 
 What, I thought, would be their feelings, did they know 
 to what a doom the poor boy whom they had loved 
 
THE GRATITUDE OF THE JAGUAR. 87 
 
 and befriended was now exposed. I am not ashamed 
 to say, that, as I thought of this, the big tears were 
 running down my cheeks. Even while they were 
 doing so, my reflections were almost insensibly turned 
 to Berchtold and his teachings. I remembered that 
 he had taught me always to depend upon Providence, 
 and to place my faith in its sustaining power, and I 
 uttered a brief but heartfelt prayer to it not to aban 
 don me. As it then seemed to me, my heart grew 
 stronger, and I could more firmly regard my terrible 
 bituation. 
 
 " The fire in front of me had now burned down to its 
 embers. Only an occasional and brief flash showed 
 that it was still alive. The Indians who had been 
 watching me, and who had several times come to ex 
 amine the thongs which bound me to the pine, were 
 also sunken in slumber. 
 
 "My head had fallen upon my shoulder, and I was 
 almost fallen into a sleep as deep as that which had 
 eeized upon my guards, when I heard the cry of the 
 owl. 
 
 " Opening my eyes, I suddenly raised my head as 
 quietly as possible. Every thing was hushed and quiet 
 around me. The four Blackfeet were all sleeping. 
 None of them had been aroused by the cry I had 
 heard. 
 
 "It was not immediately repeated. Suspense actu- 
 
88 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 ally parched my tongue until it clove to the roof of my 
 mouth, and caused my heart to beat so violently that 
 I actually heard it. For more than five minutes, I 
 heard nothing save it, and the regular breathing of my 
 guards. Then the cry was a second time repeated. 
 This time, it was but at a short distance. 
 
 "Again I listened for it, and again I had to endure 
 another period of this agonizing suspense. 
 
 "Suddenly, words were uttered in a whisper close 
 to my ear; and, although I knew the voice of the 
 Jaguar, such was the exteme and painful tension to 
 which my faculties had been subjected, that I believe 
 I must have cried out, had it not been for the warning 
 which they contained. 
 
 " Let my white brother neither speak nor stir, he 
 said, until the Jaguar bids him. 
 
 "About thrpc minutes later, I felt a quick, sharp 
 movement which severed the thongs of buffalo-hide 
 that bound me to the pine. 
 
 " Let my pale brother pass behind the tree. 
 
 " Slowly, and as noiselessly as possible, I did so, and 
 was quickly on the other side. The Jaguar was 
 standing there. With the keen edge of his toma 
 hawk, he divided the thongs which were attached to 
 my wrists, and, taking me by the hand, led me rapidly 
 after him into the thickest of the woods. 
 
 "For nearly an hour, he walked on without uttering 
 
THE GRATITUDE OF THE JAGUAR. 89 
 
 a word. I followed him; for, after we had left the 
 village behind us, he released my hand, in order that 
 our movements might be more free and unencum 
 bered. At length, we emerged from the trees upon an 
 open space bordered by a ravine. Here he stopped 
 and turned to me, and, in the shadows of the night, I 
 could notice his gesture of dignity as he spoke to 
 me. 
 
 " 4 The Jaguar promised to remember. Has he done 
 
 so? 
 
 " I made a motion of acquiescence. 
 
 " His pale brother saved his life. To-day, in turn, 
 the Jaguar rescues him from death. Pie would have 
 saved the Prairie-hunter also; but it was too late. 
 Blood had been shed. The Jaguar sought for his 
 body, that the flesh of a brave man might not become 
 the prey of the cayote and vulture ; but he could not 
 find it. 
 
 " He also informed me that he had been the leader 
 of the Blackfeet in two expeditions, which they had 
 undertaken against the whites. Both of these had 
 failed. Having thus lost, not only his command, but 
 his influence with the tribe, he had, for this reason, 
 employed a ruse to save me, instead of asking my life 
 as an equivalent for the service I had done him. 
 
 " * The pale-faces, he added, marched into one of 
 our villages while the warriors were at the chase. 
 
00 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 They murdered our women, our children, and our 
 old men. The Blackfeet have long memories. They 
 do not forget. They have sworn that no pale-face 
 who falls into their hands shall live. Let my brother 
 depart as quickly as he can ; for his red kinsman cannot 
 save him twice. 
 
 " Having said this, he gave me a tomahawk and a 
 knife, which he had brought with him ; then, pointing 
 out the direction in which the river lay, he advised me 
 to cross it by swimming, and to travel along its far 
 ther bank. After this, pressing my hand, he disap 
 peared again upon his homeward path. 
 
 " Once more I stood alone, at night, in the midst of 
 a dense forest. No road or settled path was marked 
 through it, and I felt myself to be surrounded in it, 
 not alone by savage beasts, but by still more savage 
 and remorseless foes. 
 
 "My hopefulness and buoyancy of spirit, however, 
 rarely desert me, where I have any chance given me to 
 display either my own skill or my own endurance. 
 Summoning all my courage, and confiding in that di 
 vine assistance, which, as yet, had never failed me, I 
 turned my steps in the direction which had been 
 pointed out to me by the Jaguar. Fatigued as I was 
 with the exertions of the previous day, and the want 
 of sleep this night, I nevertheless kept on, and, towards 
 morning, found myself on the bank of a little stream 
 
THE GRATITUDE OF THE JAGUAR. 
 
 01 
 
 which was almost hidden by reerts and bushes. For 
 cing my way through them, heedless of possible danger, 
 I flung myself down on my knees by it and dranfc 
 eagarly; for I was almost perishing with thirst." 
 
CHAPTER XH. 
 
 > 
 
 RECAPTURE. THE RACE FOR LIFE. 
 
 w AFTER appeasing my thirst, I gazed on every side, 
 for the dawn was just coloring the eastern horizon. 
 Seeing no indications of danger (for I was not yet as 
 keen-sighted and suspiciously alert as the Indians are), 
 I jumped into the water, and swam across. 
 
 " Reaching its opposite bank in safety, I was on the 
 point of uttering a fervent thanksgiving for my deliv 
 erance, as I was crossing the reedy ground which bor 
 dered it, when five or six warriors of the Blackfeet 
 rushed upon me, and, before I could even make use of 
 my tomahawk or knife, I was thrown down, deprived 
 of them, bound, and rendered completely powerless. 
 
 "My flight had been discovered within an hour 
 after my departure, and the Blackfeet had at once 
 commenced pursuit. 
 
 " Divining that my course would be in the direction 
 
THE PKA1UIE CRUSOE. 
 
 of the river, a large party had hurried towards and 
 crossed it, dispersing themselves along its bank to 
 entrap me, while a smaller party were behind me 
 carefully following my trail, which was easily to be 
 detected on the damp ground. As this party of tho 
 Indians had the gloom of the night to contend with in 
 tracking it, they had not overtaken me ; and I fell into 
 the ambuscade which their companions had prepared. 
 
 " I was brought back to the village, where my arrival 
 was greeted with cries of joy. 
 
 "The chief of the tribe approached me on my 
 entrance, and, having bid the Indians strip me of my 
 clothing, gave orders to them to fasten me once more 
 to the stake. 
 
 " The pale-faces, then, are cowards, said he with a 
 tone of contempt, because they fly from death. They 
 can cut the throats of women and children, but pun 
 ishment makes them afraid. They have the feet of a 
 deer, the teeth of the wolf, but the heart of a squaw. 
 
 " One warrior recommended that I should be given 
 up to the women and children, who were eager, as he 
 remarked, to take away the life of a timid and cow 
 ardly pale-face. 
 
 " This proposal was received with yells, arid shrieks 
 of delight, by the females and younger portion of the 
 tribe. 
 
 "Then the Jaguar spoke. 
 
RECAPTURE. THE RACE FOR LIFE. 95 
 
 " His eyes flashed with a savage scorn ; and, but for 
 the incidents of the past night, I should have believed 
 him more thirsty for my blood than any of his breth 
 ren. 
 
 " Fire is the death of a brave. The white-face who 
 fle " from death would shrink with dread at the si^ht 
 
 O 
 
 of the flames. Fear would deprive him of life long 
 before he felt any pain. Since he knows how to run, 
 and has swift feet, like an antelope, let my brothers 
 conduct him to the prairie, north of the village. There 
 we will hunt him, and slay him with our arrows. The 
 tomahawk should be stained only with the blood of 
 men, and this is a squaw, a milky-faced squaw. 
 When we shall have killed him, we can hang up his 
 scalp at the council-wigwam, and point it out as that 
 of a white man who was a coward. 
 
 " This cruel proposition was instantly received with 
 shouts of joy, and they ran at once to provide them 
 selves with their arrows or their lances. 
 
 " The chief asked me if I knew how to run. 
 
 " I replied scornfully, that the whites knew how to 
 run only towards their enemies, but that, if I had to 
 die, it would matter but little how or in what manner, 
 
 " Now, it happened that amongst rny comrades, as 
 a lad, while in Europe, I had always been noted as a 
 swift ranner. Indeed, more than once, my fleetness 
 of foot had been praised as something remarkable, 
 
96 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 Of course, the Jaguar could not have divined this, 
 His proposal had been made simply to give me a 
 chance of safety, while fearing that it could not po,:.si- 
 bly prove effectual. Thus he endeavored to shield me 
 with his protection as ably and as long as he by any 
 means could. 
 
 " To let myself be slain, without attempting to save 
 that life which had been given me by God, was cer 
 tainly not an act of courage. Neither could my flight 
 before so many armed enemies be justly considered an 
 act of cowardice. As I reflected upon these consid 
 erations, my decision was speedily made not even yet 
 to abandon all hope. 
 
 " I, therefore, asked the chief that I might have the 
 permission given me to wear my moccasons. 
 
 " l The pale-face wishes, said the Jaguar with a sneer, 
 4 to go to the hunting-grounds of the dead without a 
 scratch upon his feet. We will let him do so. 
 
 " They then led me to an immense prairie, which 
 extended parallel with the forest as far as the river 
 where I had been recaptured, and gave me a start of 
 about one thousand feet in advance of them. This 
 was the only chance given me. 
 
 "No time for reflection was, however, left me. I 
 had to run for my life; and, as I dashed out at my full 
 speed, a savage yell arose on the air, and announced to 
 me that the Blackfeet had commenced their cruel 
 hunt. 
 
RECAPTURE. THE RACE FOR LIFE. 97 
 
 It was with a rapidity like that of the chamois, 
 that I-flew over the ground. I was astonished at my 
 own light-footedness. My moccasons seemed fledged 
 with the wind. My feet scarcely seemed to touch the 
 ground. There were, however, several miles of prairie 
 to be passed before I might hope to reach the river; 
 and although for the moment the excitement had 
 subdued my fatigue, and lent my muscles fresh vigor, 
 I could not help questioning myself as to the possibility 
 of my holding out until I should reach the stream. 
 Besides, fleetly as I might be able to run, was it not 
 probable that some one of the younger Blackfeet 
 might have as nimble feet as mine ? 
 
 "As this occurred to me, an arrow whistled through 
 the air close to my ears, and I knew that this last idea 
 must be correct. Several other arrows followed the 
 lira. 
 
 * Putting out my fiercest energy, I dashed on in 
 spite ot the underbrush, and long, sharp reeds of the 
 prame. wmcn cui ana tore my legs, causing them to 
 bleed coinousrv. 
 
 " I had already crossed more than half of the plain, 
 without daring to turn my neaa, because I was afraid 
 any such movement mignt make me -ose givand, when 
 it seemed to me that the sound of tne liuiian,* <n pur 
 suit was gradually growing fainter and less mstinex. 
 
 "Venturing, for a moment, to turn my head, I saw 
 7 
 
98 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 that the great mass of the pursuing warriors was now 
 quite distant. Several of their most speedy runners 
 were, however, much in the advance, and by far too 
 close upon my heels. One warrior, indeed, more alert 
 than the rest, was scarcely more than three hundred 
 feet from me. He was armed with a long lance. 
 
 " Filled with fresh hopes of escape, in spite of my 
 gradually overmastering fatigue, I redoubled my ef 
 forts. So long a race was, however, in my present 
 condition, too much for me. A mist came across my 
 eyes, my temples throbbed violently, and my knees 
 quivered under me. Blood flowed both from my 
 mouth and nose, and I felt it dropping heavily upon 
 my chest. 
 
 " I was still three-quarters of a mile or more from the 
 river, whose cool and green water I saw stretching be 
 fore me. Another look thrown back showed me that 
 my foremost pursuer s strength had not been failing so 
 rapidly as mine. He was now scarcely more than 
 eighty feet behind me, and was already making his 
 preparations to transfix me with his lance. Worn out 
 with f-itigue, and overcome by passion, I stopped short. 
 In my despair, I determined to precipitate myself upon 
 him, selling my life, at any rate, as dearly as I could. 
 This I accordingly did. The Indian, who was aston 
 ished at this sudden movement upon my part, endea 
 vored, although fruitlessly, to stop his headlong career, 
 
RECAPTURE. THE RACE FOR LIFE. 99 
 
 and to transfix my body with his weapon. This was 
 in vain, for I swerved aside as the lance was levelled 
 at me ; and, in making the effort, he stumbled and fell. 
 In doing so, his spear struck in the earth; and, with the 
 force of his fall, its handle broke off in his hand. As 
 quick as lightning, I tore the broken shaft of the lance 
 from the earth, and pinned the Indian to the earth, 
 even as he was struggling to rise. His dark eyes were 
 lifted to mine with a terrible stare of mingled rage and 
 agony. I could not, however, remain to see him die, 
 but continued my desperate course. 
 
 " The rest of my pursuers had been witnesses of 
 this brief struggle, and hurried to the assistance of 
 their companion. They had been too far behind to 
 succor him, and, when they came up to his body, they 
 must have found it lifeless. 
 
 "Stopping, they uttered wild cries and shouts of 
 rage. Meanwhile, profiting by the delay, I had gained 
 the skirts of a thin cotton-grove, which skirted the 
 stream, and, at once, dashed myself into the current. 
 I was now almost worn out by the exertion I had been 
 making, and was unable to breast its strength. Con 
 sequently, I was borne by it towards a neighboring 
 island, lower down the stream, at the upper end of 
 which a great quantity of drift-wood had collected. 
 This had formed an immense and solid raft, on por 
 tions of which the logs, by the action of the river, bad 
 
100 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 been raised, and piled one upon the other. Beneath 
 this raft, having, by my immersion, regained a portion 
 of my strength, I plungefl, and swam until I was fortu 
 nate enough to find an opening between some of the 
 rent and floating trees. Here I could raise my head, 
 and breathe for a moment. 
 
 "The branches and drifted logs, which had been 
 thrown by the action of the water above the surface, 
 formed a shelter around and partially over me, which 
 rose several feet above the level of the stream. 
 
 " All danger was not, however, yet past. 
 
 " Scarcely had I sufficient time to collect my senses, 
 when I heard my enemies upon the bank of the river, 
 shrieking and yelling like a parcel of demons. Then, 
 jumping into the flood, they swam towards the upper 
 portion of the island, against which the drift-wood was 
 collected beneath which I lay concealed. When, 
 through the interstices of the broken branches, I saw 
 
 O 
 
 them pass and repass in every direction, my heart 
 literally sank within me. 
 
 " After more than two hours, which seemed to me 
 an age in length, from the fear which oppressed me, 
 they at last gave up the search, and gradually quitted 
 the island ; or, at any rate, I did not hear their move 
 ments around and above me. Then a horrible idea 
 suggested itself to me. Supposing they were to set 
 fire to the wood. It was true that the portions of it 
 
RECAPTURE. THE RACE; ?0ft -LIFE. 
 
 which were immersed would not Vara, Eiiougli, hcW- 
 ever, had been long enough exposed to the air; and 
 this would burn rapidly. This apprehension haunted 
 me until nightfall, when I ventured to quit my hiding- 
 place, and swam, or rather suffered myself to be car 
 ried, down the current for a considerable distance. 
 
 "No sound of pursuit was hear*? by me, and I made 
 towards the land on the opposite bank of the stream. 
 
 " When I emerged from the water, in spite of the 
 numbness and cold with which I was suffering from my 
 continuous immersion for more than six hours, as well 
 as my bodily fatigue and hunger (in twenty-four hours 
 I had tasted nothing), I walked on through the whole 
 night, in order that I might put as great a space as 
 possible between myself and my blood-thirsty ene- 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THK CANOE. THE RAPID. THE DRESS. 
 
 u THE imminence of the danger from which I had 
 just escaped made me forget that which I ran in trav 
 elling unarmed in the midst of this wild country, at 
 the risk of perishing from the teeth of the wolf, or the 
 claws of the panther. 
 
 " Day at last appeared, and I approached the river- 
 bank to drink, and refresh my strength by a bath. As 
 I entered the water, I perceived a small bark-canoe 
 drawn up, half out of the water. 
 
 "I had soon loosed it, and saw with pleasure that it 
 was in good condition, and that it could serve for my 
 voyage. After pulling up some roots and berries, I 
 stepped into my frail bark, which I guideu with a 
 green branch, which I had torn from the nearest tree, 
 and stripped of its smaller twigs and leaves. 
 
 " The current was not swift, and when night arrived 
 
 103 
 
104 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 I had not made any great headway : so I resolved to 
 continue ray voyage all night; for I wanted, by all 
 means, to leave a spot where I had lost my dear friend, 
 and where I had almost perished by a cruel death. 
 
 " The river soon grew broader ; and, as I advanced, 
 the current became swifter. Far in the distance ahead, 
 I heard a noise similar to that produced by a water 
 fall, and could not well account for it. 
 
 "I found it difficult to preserve my canoe in the 
 current, and at each moment the rapidity became 
 greater. 
 
 "The sharp rocks on either side seemed to glide 
 apart like immense phantoms, while, against the back 
 ground of the broad sky, the trees which surmounted 
 them hung out their long branches over the stream. 
 
 "The noise which was previously heard now grew 
 louder, and I could at length account for it. I was on 
 a rapid ! At some distance before me was the yawn 
 ing gulf into which I was about to plunge with the 
 waters of the river. 
 
 "What was its depth ? did the river rush down 
 over rocks, or into,a deep bed? such were the ques 
 tions I asked myself in this new peril. 
 
 "I had hardly taken my resolution, when I was 
 borne along with the rapidity of an arrow. I had 
 reached the plunge, and, as my canoe quivered upon 
 its very edge, I leaped into the air. 
 
THE CANOE. THE RAPID. 10;") 
 
 What passed during several minutes it is impos 
 sible for me to remember; but, when I was able to 
 realize my position, I was at the bottom of the water, 
 and was carried along by it with a fearful velocity. I 
 made an effort, striking out with my arms and legs, 
 and soon felt the pure air of the night filling my lungs. 
 I was saved, and, by the blessing of God, had received 
 neither wound nor contusion. 
 
 " Swimming to the shore, I sat down on the grass to 
 collect my strength and courage ; for so many succes 
 sive trials had at length broken me down, and de 
 stroyed a great portion of my energy and self-reliance. 
 "When I was somewhat recovered, I climbed a tree, 
 and, fastening myself to several limbs with a vine, I 
 fell asleep. It was dark when I awoke, yet I was 
 ready to continue my painful journey. 
 
 I was far enough distant not to be disturbed by the 
 fear of the Blackfeet; but I had another subject for 
 inquietude. I did not know the direction which 
 would lead me to the white settlements ; and I feared 
 constantly lest chance might throw me into the power 
 of some tribe as barbarous, perhaps, as that from which 
 my escape had so recently been made. 
 
 " I was dying of hunger ; and, although game was 
 abundant enough, I had no means of procuring the 
 subsistence which I needed ; so I was forced to teai 
 
106 THE PRATRTE- CRUSOE. 
 
 up some roots with which to sustain my weakened 
 powers. 
 
 " During the day, my body was exposed to the 
 burning heat of the sun ; and at night I was nearly 
 frozen. 
 
 " Notwithstanding my sufferings, I put my confidence 
 in Heaven, and courageously traversed immense prai 
 ries, without any shade, and filled with thorns and 
 bushes which tore my legs, and re-opened the wounds 
 which had been caused by my late race for life. 
 
 " For four days I kept on, and, at the end of that 
 time, found myself near the remains of a fire which had 
 been lighted but a few days before. The bones, and 
 strips of buffalo-meat, which covered the ground led 
 me to believe that hunters had been here. But, alas! 
 they were gone now. 
 
 " I threw myself despondingly on a heap of dried 
 grass, which had probably served them for a bed. In 
 spite of my deep grief, Nature was more powerful 
 than my severe sufferings, and I fell into a deep slum 
 ber. 
 
 "The bright rays of the morning sun awoke me, 
 and at first it was difficult for me to recall my ideas ; 
 but the bitter truth soon revealed itself. I was naked, 
 wounded, alone, abandoned in an unknown land, and, 
 wherever I turned, could sne only an immense solitude, 
 
THE CANOE. THE RAPID. 107 
 
 beyond which, doubtless, lived people more cruel than 
 wild beasts. 
 
 " Under the weight of these sad reflections, I was 
 drooping my head, when my eyes were suddenly struck 
 by something bright, which lay glittering in the long 
 grass, at no great distance. 
 
 "Approaching to look, oh, unexpected happiness! 
 I saw a knife ! Those who have passed their lives in 
 the vicinity of cities, may not, perhaps, comprehend 
 my joy at this discovery ; but he who has passed part 
 of his existence in the vast solitudes of America will 
 understand it easily ; for he may remember, that, in the 
 course of his backwoods life, the possession of a knife 
 is not a mere comfort, but a primary necessity. 
 
 "Animated with fresh hope, I examined the spot 
 where I was attentively. Not far off I found the re 
 mains of a bison, and hastened to cut off a piece for 
 my breakfast ; but the meat had been spoiled by the 
 excessive heat of the sun of the previous day; and, in 
 spite of my great hunger, I could not eat a mouthful. 
 I was therefore obliged to content myself with some 
 roots, which seemed succulent to me, although they 
 were very insipid. 
 
 " On reflection, I bethought me, that, if the flesh 
 could be of no use, still the skin might furnish mate 
 rial for a covering; so I went to work at once. This 
 was not difficult for me, as I had often helped 
 
108 THE PRAIRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 Lewis prepare his furs, and had acquired considerable 
 skill. 
 
 " The flesh, which had commenced to putrefy, was 
 easily detached from the skin, and using my knife, and 
 some large flat stones which I found in the bed of a 
 neighboring brook, I had soon cleaned the skin as 
 much as possible. I had to rest from time to time ; for 
 I was feeble : and I found considerable difficulty in 
 dragging the skin as far as the water s edge, where I 
 washed it free from all. remains of flesh. I then cut, 
 some reeds, with which I pinned it to the earth to dry 
 in the sun without shrinking. 
 
 " Night surprised me in the midst of my work, and 
 obliged me to leave it unfinished until the morrow. 
 
 "In the tree among the branches of which I had de 
 termined to pass the night, I saw some birds nests, 
 and, climbing up with some difficulty to the place 
 where they were, I found about a dozen freshly laid 
 eggs, which made me a most delicious meal. I de 
 scended to drink at the stream, and, on re-ascending, 
 carried a good bundle of dry grass, which I spread, 
 over two of the limbs of the tree, as a bod, on which I 
 slept soundly, after recommending myself to Him who 
 had watched over me so carefully. 
 
 "The next morning I awoke stiff with cold, and had 
 to give myself a good rubbing before my joints became 
 supple enough to allow me to descend. I bathed ir 
 
THE CANOE. THE RAPID. 109 
 
 the sti oam ; and the rays of the morning sun partially 
 restored my exhausted vigor. 
 
 " I set to work with determination. The skin was a 
 little damp yet with dew ; but the sun and the wind 
 soon dried it without rendering it less pliaLt. 
 
 " First, I busied myself with making a pair of moc- 
 casons to replace my old ones, which were about worn 
 out, leavii g my feet very much exposed; and, after a 
 few trials, I finished by producing a pair capable of 
 protecting me during a tolerably long journey. 
 
 " Out of the rest of the skin, I cut a kind of blouse, 
 having three openings, one for my head, and two for 
 my arms. 
 
 " To sew the pieces together was the difficulty ; and 
 it must be owned, that it was a long time before I 
 could supply the want of all that I needed. At last 
 I found, on a rocky patch of ground, near a ravine, some 
 agave, a plant resembling the aloes, whose leaves are 
 covered with thorns. I drew out the long fibres from 
 the stem, and used them as thread, while, for needles, 
 I had the long and sharp thorns of the acacia triacan- 
 thoS) which grew near by in large quantities. I per 
 forated the large end with my knife, and now nothing 
 was wanting but patience ; consequently, I very soon 
 had my garment finished. Not even the cap, which I 
 made out of the skin of the bison s skull, was forgot 
 ten ; and I fastened it with two of the stoutest fibres. 
 
110 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " Thus equipped, I presented the most grotesque ap- 
 pearance imaginable : and, looking at myself in one of 
 the deeper portions of the stream, I could not help 
 laughing outright ; for my light-heartedness and hopes 
 had returned as soon as I had recourse to those two 
 powerful auxiliaries of man, labor and prayer - 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE VALLEY. THE BEAVERS. 
 
 "I DETEBMINED to try and make a bow and a/rows; 
 for everywhere about me game abounded, and birds 
 liew in countless numbers, without my being able to 
 procure any nourishment but roots and flavorless 
 fruits. After many efforts, I succeeded in making a 
 bow out of a stout reed branch, cut from a young ash. 
 The cord was soon found among the tendons of the 
 bison, and arrows in plenty among the reeds, which I 
 pointed with acacia-thorns, fastened on with fibres. 
 To guide them straight, I attached to the other end, 
 feathers from birds, which drop them continually, as 
 they pass and repass from branch to branch. 
 
 "My satisfaction was great on finding myself in 
 possession of a weapon which would not only allow 
 me to provide for my subsistence, but which might 
 serve to defend me, in case I met with hostile In- 
 ill 
 
112 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 dians again, which I was, as I must confess, by no 
 means desirous of doing. 
 
 " To practise with my new arm was the first thing, 
 nor did I prove very unskilful. The second arrow 
 which I shot from my bow pierced a water-fowl, as it 
 rose from the stream. 
 
 " After securing it, by a short swim, to pluck it and 
 clean it was a quickly finished job ; and, for the first 
 time since my separation from poor Lewis, I ventured 
 to make a fire to roast my game. 
 
 " Although the nights were sensibly cold, I had nat 
 urally hesitated to light a fire, because the smoke and 
 flame would be visible from a distance. However, I 
 now felt less fear, or partially re-assured by the space 
 which I had placed between my enemies and myself; 
 consequently, I dared the risk. 
 
 "I soon found a flint almost as clear as agate, and, 
 with my knife and a heap of dry leaves, I soon had a 
 clear flame, which I kept burning with constant addi 
 tions of dry underbrush. Hanging the fowl, by some 
 fibres of the agave, to the branch of a tree, I soon saw 
 my coming dinner nicely browning, as it turned in the 
 wind before my improvised kitchen-hearth. 
 
 " The repast was delicious, and, after some hours of 
 repose, I felt quite disposed to push on. I was too 
 near the river ; and I hoped, by keeping a little to the 
 
THE VALLEY. THE BFAVERS. 113 
 
 north, to meet some trappers, who would give me 
 directions how to reach St. Louis. 
 
 "Therefore I prepared for my journey. 
 
 " My equipment was a little singular ; and I thought 
 of the astonishment of the baron and Stanislas, and 
 the gay laugh of the charming little Bertha, if they 
 could only see me in such a rig. 
 
 "Besides my moccasons, and my bison-skin blouse, 
 which looked about as graceful as a blacksmith s 
 apron, I had fashioned out a kind of mantle, which 
 came down to my knees, and which might serve, as 
 occasion required, either as a quilt or as a garment. 
 
 " On my back I slung an extra pair of moccasons, 
 which I had made, and a quiver, formed of two pieces 
 of bark tied together, which held my arrows. My 
 knife was fastened at my waist. In my right hand I 
 carried a stout stick, w r ith a large knot on the end, 
 which would prove a very fair weapon for defense. 
 Over my left shoulder I had passed my bow. 
 
 "Thus equipped, I set out gayly, and continued to 
 advance for five days, without meeting any adventure 
 worth repeating. 
 
 "Towards evening, on the fifth day, I reached a deli 
 cious valley. It was divided into two parts by a clear 
 and limpid stream of water, bordered with beautiful 
 flowers, and emptying itself into a deep ravine, which 
 bounded the valley on one side. Towards the north, 
 
114 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 it was completely shut in by a dense forest, which the 
 underbrush and vines rendered absolutely impassable. 
 
 " The only passage was that by which I entered. It 
 was only a few yards wide, and was flanked on either 
 side by sharp rocks, covered with a dense growth of 
 euphorbia and agaves, impenetrable even to wild 
 beasts. 
 
 "Now that the dangers which I had run were far 
 distant, I became thoughtless of what new perils might 
 await me, and acquired a new taste for this life, so full 
 of adventure and unforeseen events. 
 
 "Before the works of God in powerful and varied 
 nature, man feels two successive sentiments, diametri 
 cally opposed, but both equally proceeding from the 
 grandeur and perfections of the Creator of all things. 
 
 " Man is forced to bow, and acknowledge his little 
 ness, when he considers the prodigies of creation about 
 him ; but he raises his head with honest pride, remem 
 bering, that, of all created beings on earth, he is the 
 most intelligent, the most gifted, and the one whose 
 perfectible nature must overcome and rule eveiy other 
 being whose instincts and feelings are in every man 
 ner inferior and more restrained. 
 
 " Thus I, a child almost, alone, abandoned, without 
 friends or resources, in the midst of immense wastes, 
 had been able, armed only with that confidence in 
 God which is but a knowledge and a conviction of his 
 
THE VALLEY. THE BEAVERS. 115 
 
 greatness and almighty power, I had been able, I 
 say, to protect my life, and continue, with some feel 
 ing of security, the long and painful journey which I 
 had yet to accomplish. 
 
 "On entering this charming valley, of which I have 
 bpoken, and which seemed thrown in my way as if to 
 invite a long sojourn, I thanked God for all his pre 
 vious mercies, and established my cam]) near the 
 stream, at the foot of an enormous tree, which ex 
 tended afar its protecting shade. 
 
 " On reflection, I determined to remain here some 
 time, and to explore the neighborhood, both to satisfy 
 my taste for natural history, and to discover the traces 
 of any trappers. 
 
 "The following morning, after a substantial break 
 fast, composed of a gray squirrel and a species of 
 plover, some potatoes roasted in the ashes, and a drink 
 of the fresh running brook, I started out of the little 
 valley. I soon met with the stream again, and fol 
 lowed it up during nearly an hour. 
 
 "Arriving at a place where the river was wider, to 
 my astonishment, I found a sort of coifer-dam, com 
 posed of trunks of trees, and branches interwoven and 
 filled in with earth, which held the water in check. A 
 Bound which I heard in the water made me quite 
 apprehensive, and I hid in the bushes. 
 
 "A few minutes after, I saw two or three black 
 
116 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 bodies appear on the surface, remain still, .and then 
 come out of the w iter, and climb up the dam. I had 
 read of and seen engravings of them. -They were 
 beavers. 
 
 " The wind blew towards me ; so I approached, still 
 concealed behind the thick curtain of leaves, to ob 
 serve these interesting animals. 
 
 " A dozen beavers were upon the dam, very busy, 
 apparently ; and I soon saw what they were about. 
 One side of the dam had been thrown down, probably 
 by some overturned trunk floating down the stream, 
 and the whole colony were about to repair the dam 
 age. 
 
 "One of them gnawed the base of a young tree, 
 which stood near by, to make it fall into the river; 
 which soon happened. 
 
 "Immediately, each one set to work cutting off the 
 useless branches, or those which would be in the way, 
 and depositing them carefuHy where they were wanted 
 in the repairs. 
 
 " When the trunk was placed in position, by their 
 joint efforts, across the hole made by the accident, the 
 beavers went in quest of rich earth, which they made 
 into little balls with their front paws, which really 
 seemed to resemble human hands, and bringing 
 them, vsupported by these and their nose, they bound 
 together the branches which were filled in with this 
 
THE VALLEY. THE BEAVERS. 117 
 
 mortar, using their back feet, wliich are webbed like 
 those of aquatic birds, for this purpose ; and, before a 
 great while, the damage was all repaired, and the water 
 had found its old level. 
 
 " In the midst of the pool formed by the dam, were 
 their habitations. They were built in the shape of an 
 oven, rounded off on the top, and built upon piles. 
 
 " I have since had occasion to see them quite near, 
 and to examine them in detail. 
 
 "There are two entrances, one above, the other 
 beneath the water. The interior is divided into two 
 or three stories, communicating with each other, and 
 serving as dwelling and storehouse. In the upper part, 
 the female rears her little ones on a soft and warm 
 bed, made of moss and dried leaves. 
 
 "The beaver eats only vegetable substances, such as 
 dried fruits, the bark of trees, and roots. 
 
 "I once saw a beaver village abandoned, because of 
 the drying-tip of the water-course where it was built ; 
 and I admired greatly the ability and intelligence which 
 had presided at its construction. The piles which sup 
 ported their cabins were more than nine feet long, and 
 were firmly buried in the earth. They wore bound 
 together by interwoven branches and posts, cemented 
 with mortar composed of sand, loam, and small peb 
 bles. Some of the trunks of the trees of which the dam 
 was composed were as large round as the body of a 
 
118 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 man, while others were perfectly square. The whole 
 dam, which was perpendicular where it faced clown 
 stream, was sloping against its course, so as to offer a 
 firm resistance to the pressure of the water, a pres 
 sure which grew less and less on approaching the sur 
 face, just in proportion as the dam diminished. 
 
 " The upper slope was increased also by the gradual 
 deposit of sand and mud from the river washings. 
 
 " But I examined that village some time afterwards. 
 Now, after satisfying my curiosity, and passing several 
 hours in observation, I continued my excursion, and 
 returned to my camping-ground, well satisfied with 
 what I had seen." 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BUFFALOES. THE ARICARA. 
 
 "AFTER having recruited my strength, I recom 
 menced my journey northward, feeling well able to 
 endure the fatigue and difficulties I might experience. 
 I had so accustomed myself to the use of the bow, 
 and employed it now so skilfully, that I did not fear 
 to meet an Indian, or any other enemy. So I went on 
 my way full of confidence. 
 
 "I followed the course of a large stream, which I had 
 discovered in the neighborhood, both because it was in 
 the direction which I intended to pursue, and because 
 of the rare beauties of the tract of land through whiuL 
 it do wed. 
 
 "The prairies along the banks were adorned with 
 innumerable flowers, displaying as many varieties of 
 brilliant color as of graceful form. The charming 
 isles, which appeared to float upon the surface of the 
 
 119 
 
120 THE PRAIRTfi CRUSOE. 
 
 stream, and where I several times sought rest, were 
 like beautiful gardens. The trees were frequently 
 overrun with parasites, and vines in blossom, which 
 filled the air with delicious perfume. 
 
 " Amid this immense growth of verdure were occa 
 sional prairies and clearings, covered with rank grass, 
 and serving as a retreat for the buffalo, the moose, 
 and the antelope, which had traced innumerable patha 
 among the trees and bushes, forming a very labyrinth 
 in complication and variety. 
 
 " In some spots, vegetation seemed to have ceased, 
 and the soil remained barren and arid. This effect is 
 produced by the exposure of large veins of oxide of 
 iron, from the action of water. 
 
 " At a bend in the river, a large, rocky hill, formed 
 almost entirely of this mineral, had long offered an 
 obstacle to the passage of the waters; but, overcome 
 by the incessant rush of the stream, it had finally been 
 pierced, and now the waters rushed through an im 
 mense arch, whose sides are being weakened day by 
 day, until, with lapse of years, t.he whole will be 
 wasted away, and fall into the wave beneath. 
 
 "After passing thip point, the land rose gradually on 
 either bank, still showing rich deposits of mineral 
 matter, whose presence indicated to my mind, as I 
 recollected the descriptions given by Lewis, that I wns 
 on a branch of the Missouri. Consequently, feeling 
 
THE BUFFALOES. THE ARICARA. 121 
 
 that I was in the right way to reach the tei ninus of 
 my journey, I continued to follow the shore, examining 
 with curiosity the many wonders of this remarkably 
 rich country. 
 
 " I thought of this well-nigh exhaustless store of i 
 metal most useful to civilized man, thus placed by Na 
 ture in a rich and fertile country, amid immense beds 
 of the coal formation, which compose the valleys bor 
 dering on the Missouri. 
 
 O 
 
 "Is not this a certain sign of the future wealth of 
 these immense regions in the West, which need only 
 the labor and the intelligence of man, to be drawn 
 from their wild state, now rich in poetry and natural 
 beauties, but poor in all products useful to humanity, 
 and, with their fertile wealth, and countless resources, 
 totally unprofitable to civilization. 
 
 " I frequently stopped to examine, collecting many 
 specimens of grains and minerals that I wished to 
 preserve, which I placed in a little bark box, which I 
 had made, and which was attached to my waist. 
 
 " In addition to these mineral deposits, the land is 
 wholly composed of prairies, intersected by ravines, 
 and gently rolling hills. During the rainy season, all 
 the fissures and indentations of the eoil become the 
 beds of rapid torrents, swollen by the waters from the 
 regions beyond ; but in mid-summer these are all dried 
 up. 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " On the slopes of the hills, and in these ruvines, is 
 found a plentiful growth of brush; but the rest of 
 the country, as one approaches the high mountains 
 which bound the horizon, is covered with tall, thick 
 grass. NOY does it contain a solitary tree, beneath 
 which the traveller may find shelter from the burning 
 rays of the sun. 
 
 " The ground of this higher region is strongly im 
 pregnated with sulphur, sulphate of iron, alum, and sul 
 phate of soda. These various substances color the 
 neighboring streams, and, aided by the frequent over 
 flowings which occur in the valley of the Mississippi, 
 give the waters of this river their taste as well as 
 color. 
 
 " While following the river-bank, I heard some dis 
 tance before me, in a plain from which I was separated 
 by a thick grove of trees, a frightful noise, which 
 coined to approach rapidly. The very earth seemed 
 to be tremulous with a violent and precipitate motion. 
 
 "I had just time to seek shelter behind a huge 
 bowlder, and examine my weapons, when, bursting 
 and crashing through the bushes and trees, overturn- 
 ing and trampling all that opposed them, came a troop 
 of nearly two hundred buffaloes. 
 
 "They passed like a hurricane towards the river, 
 Crushing the long grass beneath their rapid course 
 
THE BUFFALOES. THE ARTCARA. 1^ 
 
 spurning the stones with their mighty hoofs, arid mak 
 ing the most frightful bellowings. 
 
 " The whole troop dashed recklessly into the rapid 
 stream, displacing its waters with their impetuous rush, 
 and throwing them violently back upon the bank 
 They then climbed the opposite bank, and, pursuing 
 their headlong course, were in a short time lost to my 
 sight. 
 
 "Certainly, nothing but a powerful enemy could 
 have caused such a panic. As I was anxiously wait 
 ing for the enemy to appear, I fancied that I heard 
 the sound of a human voice, in a short exclamation, 
 from beyond the trees through which the rush of the 
 buffaloes had just passed. It had scarcely caught my 
 ear, as it was mingled with the furious bellowing of a 
 brute. Leaving my momentary shelter, I quickly hur 
 ried forward, although with as much caution as my 
 impatience would permit, through the dense grove 
 which obstructed my view. On the other side of it, I 
 beheld a scene which at once explained itself. 
 
 "Scarcely a hundred feet from me, a large buffalo-cow 
 was shielding with her body a young calf, whose feet 
 had been caught by a lasso, and which was no\v lying 
 upon the ground, completely motionless. After a brief 
 pause, with a savage bellow, as if possessed with a mad 
 fury, she rushed upon an Indian, armed with a lance, 
 who was intent upon his anticipated prey. Otherwise, 
 
124 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 BO acute is the Indian sense of hearing, that I feel cou- 
 vincecl he would have heard my approach. 
 
 " Unfortunately he made a false step, and, before he 
 could recover himself, the infuriated animal was upon 
 him. Raising him upon her horns, as I might hava 
 picked up a dead sparrow, she tossed him forward into 
 the air, through which he described an arc of about 
 fifteen or perhaps twenty feet. Then, rushing in her 
 blind rage upon the prostrate foe, her head was again 
 bent to the ground, and, with her threatening horns, 
 she needed scarcely an instant more to accomplish her 
 revenge by trampling him beneath her feet. 
 
 "Let me own honestly, that when I first saw him 
 fall, and the buffalo rush upon him, a cruel delight for 
 a moment took possession of -me. 
 
 " I had not yet forgotten my race for dear life from 
 the Blackfeet, and this feeling was not altogether un 
 natural. 
 
 "Then, however, I recalled the fact that I really 
 owed my life to the Jaguar; "and when I saw him 
 raised like a feather on the horns of the brute, nnd in 
 a moment aftor whirling through the air, a more Chris- 
 ti:in feeling filled my heart. I knew not to wlint tribe 
 he might belong. lie might not be one of the Black- 
 feet. Nay, if he wore, he was none the less my brother. 
 Moreover, I had been alone for several days; and, in 
 my state of perfect isolation, I confess I had repeatedly 
 
THE BUFFALOES. THE ARICARA. 125 
 
 wished again to hear the voice of a fellow-being. Con 
 sequently, I rushed as quickly forward as I could, and 
 unsheathed my knife as I did so. 
 
 "The unfortunate hunter was lying on the ground, 
 an inert and perhaps lifeless mass at the feet of his 
 formidable and maddened foe. 
 
 "Just in time to prevent the second deadly attack, 
 I uttered a loud yell behind the infuriated animal, 
 which caused her to stop for a moment in temporary 
 indecision. Short as was this moment, it was enough 
 to save the Indian. Springing forward, with a sudden 
 and dexterous blow with my knife I succeeded in ham 
 stringing her. The buffalo, bellowing fiercely with 
 pain and anger, reeled and fell over. Then she again 
 tried to rise, tossing her huge head wildly in the fu 
 rious effort; but she again fell prone upon the earth. 
 
 "Profiting by this moment to end her sufferings, as 
 the buffalo lay motionless before me, I dealt her a 
 sharp blow between the base of the skull and its junc 
 tion with the spine. It was given vigorously and 
 effectively. Making one last effort to rise, she rolled 
 over upon the ground, and, save a quiver or two 
 through her huge form, stirred no more. 
 
 " This took less time to accomplish than it now does 
 to relate. Turning at once to the Indian, who seemed 
 to be in a pitiable state, I saw that he had fainted 
 away from loss of blood. A large, but fortunately not 
 
l ~*i THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 a deep wound, wruch had entered no vital part, as J 
 discovered by examination, was on his right side. It 
 had been given by the horn of the buffalo. As I saw 
 the abundant flow of blood, it became evident to me 
 that it was at once necessary to stop it. 
 
 "While with my good Lewis, I had frequently had 
 occasion to see him make use of plants to stop bleed 
 ing from light and casual wounds, and had gradually 
 become a tolerably fair adept in the rough surgery of 
 the prairie 1 had n^ver, however, attended to so 
 deep a wound as this. Nevertheless, I looked about 
 me, and discovered, after a brief search, a sufficiency 
 of marjoram-leaven tor rny present purpose. Chewing 
 these until they were reduced to a pulpy mass, I con 
 verted them into a specie* of poultice. This I placed 
 
 upon the wound, and soou had the pleasure of seein^ 
 
 o 
 
 that the flow ol blood had gradually ceased. 
 
 "I then hastened to tetcL some water from the 
 river, in a little ^our<t which I had fashioned from a 
 calabash. 
 
 "The fresh water, which 1 sprinkled freely over hip 
 brow and face, revived the wounded Indian. With a 
 faint and almost inarticulate murmur upon his lips, he 
 opened his eyes. 
 
 "As soon as he perceived me. Ins tirst movement 
 was with his hand, as if searching for his tomahawk 
 for the purpose of defence ; but the effort was beyond 
 
THE BUFFALOES. THE ARICARA. 127 
 
 
 
 his strength, and, as a necessary result of the exertion, 
 lie sank back once more perfectly unconscious. 
 
 " Thanks to my care, and the mercy of Providence, 
 he soon recovered. When he did so, he looked upon 
 me more calmly and even amiably. I pressed upon 
 his lips the juice of some wild fruit which I had gath 
 ered ; and, after a brief space of time, a slight tinge of 
 color appeared upon his lips, and he was enabled to sit 
 up, with his back supported against a tree. He would 
 have spoken to me ; but I put my finger to my lip, 
 and, with a meaning gesture, signified to him that he 
 must remain silent. His dark eye expressed astonish 
 ment; but, recovering the impassibility which distin 
 guish his race, he closed his eyes, and, overcome by 
 fatigue and loss of blood, sank upon the ground, and 
 slept quietly. 
 
 "Taking the opportunity which his slumber gave 
 me, I freed the buffalo-calf, whose cries were so pitia 
 ble as to be annoying. Entangled in the cords of the 
 lasso, from which it found it impossible to release it 
 self, it would, unless it had been released, have died 
 very speedily of hunger, or have been devoured by 
 the vultures and prairie-wolves, of which there is never 
 any scarcity upon these broad plains. Young as it 
 was, it was strong enough, and had sufficient instinct, 
 to regain its troop. In fact, as soon as it was released. 
 
128 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 I watched it disappear in the direction that the herd 
 to which it belonged had previously taken. 
 
 "After having killed several birds, and plucked 
 them, I cut off a slice of meat from the dead buffalo, 
 and, while my new comrade slept, prepared our meal, 
 still watching the fine and noble features of the 
 wounded man attentively. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ARRIVAL IN THE TRIBE. ADOPTION. 
 
 " HE was evidently a strong and vigorous man, per 
 haps a little over twenty-five years of age, and express 
 ing in his countenance both courage and frankness. 
 His dress, torn, and stained with blood, was richly 
 decorated with feathers and pearls. The teeth and 
 claws of a grisly bear, of which his necklace was 
 formed, indicated a skilful hunter. The tails of 
 wolves, which adorned his head-dress and fell below 
 his shoulders, as well as the ornaments on his right 
 arm, marked the intrepid warrior; while the eagle- 
 plumes that waved proudly over his forehead revealed 
 his dignity as a chief. 
 
 "He was not a Blackfoot, I had studied them to 
 closely to be mistaken; not a Sioux, the form of 
 his moccason showed this ; nor a Pawnee, for the tor 
 toise painted on his chest was not a mark of this tribe; 
 
 9 129 
 
130 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 and I was lost in conjectures, which. I was framing ill 
 my own mind concerning him, when he awoke. 
 
 " Dinner was ready, and our hunger was too real for 
 us to delay our attention to the meal. He ate and 
 drank in silence, and I remarked that he seemed to 
 have partially recovered his strength ; yet ho was 
 still unable to stand. His weakness was too great; 
 and it was evident that he would have to remain 
 where he was for some short time longer. 
 
 " In a few words, and without alluding to my affair 
 with the Blackfeet (for I knew not with whom I had 
 to do), I told him how I had arrived just in time to 
 save him from being torn to pieces, or trampled to 
 death by the buftalo. 
 
 " In doing this, I made use of a dialect which was 
 pretty common on the prairies, and which is made up 
 of English, French, and words taken from the lan 
 guages of the different tribes. This dialect is espe 
 cially used by trappers when on their long excursions, 
 and I had easily learned to speak it when in company 
 with Lewis. 
 
 "He understood me very well, and listened attentively 
 to all that I said. Then he took my right hand in his, 
 and, putting his other palm on my forehead, said these 
 few words, 
 
 " It is well. My pale brother is good. He will be 
 my friend. 
 
ARRIVAL IN THE TRIBE. 15 1 
 
 tt Then, with a gesture full of grace and dignity, ho 
 stretched himself upon the ground, and fell asleep. 
 
 "I quickly imitated him, yielding to sleep without 
 any distrust, by the side of this savage, whom gratitude 
 had made my friend, and who, feeble and unarmed, 
 had trusted so completely in a stranger, whose senti 
 ments of honor, as between man and man, he judged 
 must be similar to those which he himself felt. 
 
 "At daybreak, I was awakened by the Indian, whose 
 wound was now quickly healing, and who had collected 
 strength by his long rest sufficient for him to again 
 return to his village. 
 
 " Taking me by the hand, he said, that, .after the 
 service which I had rendered him, I had become his 
 brother, and that he would not, nor could he, leave me 
 alone in the desert, with the miserable weapons which 
 I had, exposed to those dangers which I was liable 
 to meet with at every step. He therefore engaged 
 me to follow him to his tribe, where I should be joyful 
 ly received. 
 
 " I did not hesitate to accept this offer ; for I felt very 
 lonely in my present solitude, where I had been so 
 happy when Lewis was with me. Moreover, this offer 
 upon his part would give me a chance to see and 
 study closely the manner and life of the red men 
 amongst themselves. 
 
 "It was possible, also, that his tribe was in the habit 
 
132 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 of dealing with white traders. If so, I should certainly 
 find some means of reaching a city, and obtaining news 
 from Europe, and from my dear friends in Germany. 
 
 " I therefore said to the Indian, that I accepted his 
 offer, and was ready to follow him. 
 
 " He immediately arose, and, without saying another 
 word, he followed a winding path which led to the 
 banks of the river. Making his way through the thick 
 reeds, which he did with evident difficulty, he soon 
 re-appeared, dragging a canoe after him, which he 
 launched upon the river, and into which we both 
 stepped. 
 
 " We followed the course of the stream for a day 
 and night, exchanging but few words, and passing our 
 time either stretched in the bottom of the boat and 
 smoking, or taking our turn with the paddle. 
 
 " It was with no ordinary pleasure that I accepted 
 the pipe and tobacco which the chief offered me ; for, 
 since my separation from Lewis, I had been deprived 
 of this comfort, which would have been so precious in 
 my solitude. 
 
 " On the morning of the second day, the river, mak 
 ing a sudden bend, brought us up to a collection of 
 huts, in tt.e midst of a plain covered with young trees. 
 This was the Indian village to which we had been 
 journeying. 
 
 "As soon as our approach was known, a great 
 
ARRIVAL IN THE TRIBE. 13fi 
 
 clamor was baard on shore. All the inhabitants 
 flocked to the bank, and, by their noisy reception, 
 testified the respect and consideration in which they 
 held my companion. 
 
 " Naturally enough, I was the object of general curi 
 osity ; and it must be granted all the looks fixed upon 
 me were by no means the most agreeable or re-assuring. 
 
 " The chief landed, took me by the hand, and, with 
 out giving heed to the acclamations which greeted 
 him, motioned to the crowd which pressed about us to 
 stand aside, as, with a grave and dignified tread, he 
 moved towards a wigwam larger than the others, and 
 standing in the centre of the village. I afterwards 
 found that this was the council- wig warn. 
 
 " It was of considerable size, and was built of four 
 large upright trunks of trees, which supported cross 
 beams. The whole was filled in with wihow-boughs 
 and osier, which were afterwards covered over with 
 earth and clay. 
 
 " In the centre was a hole, which served as a fire 
 place ; while, exactly above it, an opening was cut in 
 the roof, to let out the smoke, as well as to let in the 
 light. Around the sides of the wigwam were places 
 for sleeping, concealed by curtains of skins. Before 
 the entrance was a sort of trophy, of both hunting and 
 war. It was formed of two buffaloes heads, painted 
 brilliantly with ochre and a red pigment, and sur 
 
1.34 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 mounted by shields, bows and arrows, and other wea 
 pons. 
 
 " On entering the hut, the chief made me a sign to 
 sit down upon a mat, which was reserved for strangers, 
 and placed himself opposite me, upon a kind of cushion. 
 
 " An old man then presented himself j with the calu 
 met of peace, which he lit, and presented to the chief, 
 and then retired to the door. 
 
 " The chief, after a few whiffs, passed the pipe to me, 
 and, as soon as I had imitated him, he made a sign to 
 the old Indian, who appeared to act as a sort of her 
 ald. 
 
 "Climbing up to the roof, he put his head out of the 
 opening made for air and light, and, witli a strength 
 of lungs which must have made him audible through 
 out the length and breadth of the village, he repeated 
 what the chief dictated to him, and convoked the war 
 riors and ancients to the council. 
 
 "Soon they began to arrive, one by one, as they 
 were summoned or announced. Pushing aside the 
 buffalo-skin hung before the door, they crossed the 
 wigwam slowly and gravely, and took their seats on 
 the skins spread upon the ground. 
 
 " I counted twenty, ranged around the hole which 
 served as a hearth or fireplace. They were w r orthy the 
 brush of a great painter; for the Aricaras (which waa 
 the name of the tribe amongst whom I now found 
 
ARRIVAL IN THE TIUBE. 1 3: 
 
 myself) are a noble race of Indians. Large, and well, 
 proportioned, their whole appearance denoted a savage 
 pride, and was marked by a gravity of manner which 
 rendered all their ceremonies very imposing. 
 
 "As soon as they were all seated, the old Indian 
 again lighted the pipe, and presented it to the chief, 
 He gave three whiffs, looking, as he did so, first to 
 wards heaven, then towards the earth, and lastly 
 towards the east. When this ceremony was con 
 cluded, he passed it to the nearest warrior, from whom 
 it passed round the whole assemblage. 
 
 "They preserved profound silence and perfect im 
 passibility; so that, except a few glances towards me, 
 nothing showed the occasion or the purpose for which 
 they had been summoned. 
 
 " The calumet ceremonies being at length ended, the 
 Indian whom I had accompanied, and whom I had by 
 this time discovered to be the chief of the tribe, arose 
 with majesty, and, giving a haughty but noble glance 
 around the circle of warriors, began his speech. 
 
 "While with the Canadian hunter, I had learned 
 many words in use among the red men, and which are 
 used for inter-communication among the tribes, each 
 of which has, however, its own peculiar dialect. This 
 knowledge, and the expressive gestures of the ora 
 tors, enabled me to seize pretty closely the meaning 
 
1C6 THE PRATRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 of all their remarks. The details, as I here relate 
 them, I learned more perfectly a little later. 
 
 " The chief said, that he had gone from his camp in 
 pursuit of a troop of buffaloes ; and spoke of the mo 
 ment when, having lassoed the young buffalo, the fe 
 male had attacked him unexpectedly, and tossed him 
 into the air, adding, that, from that moment, the Great 
 Spirit had thrown a veil over his thoughts. Then he 
 awoke again to the sun of heaven, and found himself 
 in the hands of a pale-face, who was washing and 
 dressing his wounds. His voice was harmoniously 
 varied, according to his narration ; now strong and 
 clear, and then, again, gentle, and even tender. It was 
 especially the last, when he spoke of the white man, 
 who, by his care, had brought back the soul which was 
 ready to travel to the prairies of YVacondah. Then 
 his voice was deeply emotional, and affected by his 
 gratitude. When he pointed me out as his preserver, 
 the Indians all looked at me with kind faces; and their 
 usually stern, impassible features were relaxed into 
 kindliness and approbation at the words of their 
 chief. 
 
 "After his harangue, the chief resumed his seat, and 
 awaited in silence the effect of his words. 
 
 " An ancient warrior rose shortly after, when a suffi 
 cient period for Indian dignity had elapsed, and went 
 
ARRIVAL IN THE TRIBE. 137 
 
 to consult each of the other warriors, in a low tone of 
 voice. Then he came, and stood before me. 
 
 " My son, said he, < the whole tribe of the Aricaras 
 unite and thank you for having preserved the days of 
 the Great Eagle, our mighty chief. The warriors who 
 are here assembled desire you to live among us, as a 
 brother and a friend. 
 
 " The words of the old man were received with a 
 murmur of approbation, and I bowed my head in 
 token of assent and thanks. Each one of them came 
 and placed the palm of his hand on the top of my 
 head, in testimony of friendship. 
 
 "The Great Eagle then arose, and spoke as fol 
 lows: 
 
 " Ancients and warriors, said he, Ho you, the head 
 and heart of my nation, am I grateful for what you 
 have done for him who has saved the life of your chief. 
 I now wish to add to the recompense which my pale 
 brother has merited by admitting him to my own wig 
 wam. Let him be of my family. He shall fill the 
 place of the brother whom the Great Spirit has called 
 away. He shall share my arms and my riches; he 
 shall sit by my hearth, with my wife and my sons ; I 
 % will acknowledge him as my own brother, before the 
 whole tribe. 
 
 " I gave him my hand affectionately, and, amid the 
 murmurs of satisfaction which tVe words of the chief 
 
138 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 had caused, I signified my desire to speak. Silence 
 was at once imposed upon the whole of the council, by 
 their own sense of what was becoming towards the 
 young stranger amongst them. 
 
 " I began by expressing, as well as it was possible, 
 my deep gratitude at their offers and great kindness, 
 and how painful it would be for me to refuse such 
 proofs of their good feeling towards me. Then I went 
 on to explain to them, that I had a country to which 
 my heart was greatly attached ; and that I could not 
 thus give up a family (for I still had a lingering hope 
 to discover my unknown parents), and the friends to 
 whom I was so attached, when, perhaps, a father and a 
 mother, aged and infirm, might ultimately receive, from 
 the son they had never seen, the care which their 
 old age required. I assured them of my friendship 
 and devotedness, and said that my intention was, in 
 accordance with their wishes, to remain some time 
 among them ; and that they should find mcr by their 
 side, sharing their labors and their fatigues, like a true 
 child of the prairie. 
 
 "The beginning of my speech had been received by 
 my auditory with visible sorrow and disappointment: 
 but, as I continued, their faces grew brighter; and, as 
 I pledged myself to pass some time with them, they 
 looked gratified. 
 
 "The Grent Eagle approached, and promised, in the 
 
ARRIVAL IN THE TRIBE. 
 
 139 
 
 name of the tribe, that I should be free to leave them, 
 whenever I chose to return to the land of my fathers. 
 Ifowever, while waiting this moment, which he begged 
 me to put far away, I was free to live as an Aricara, 
 should that suit me, or to remain under their protec 
 tion as a stranger, to whom hospitality was due. 
 
 "The pipe was again passed round. We shook 
 hands, rose, and quitted the wigwam." 
 
CHAPTER XVII, 
 
 AW INDIAN VILLAGE. WILLIAM A DOCTOR. 
 
 "THE chief took me by the hand ; and we made the 
 circuit of the village, to the sound of instruments of 
 music, the barking of dogs, and the cries of the women 
 and children. 
 
 "We were preceded by the old Indian, who an 
 nounced to the tribe that I was recognized as the 
 friend of the chief. The warriors and old men fol 
 lowed us to a wigwam, where the Great Eagle installed 
 me ; and they all laid their hands upon me again, and 
 then retired, leaving me alone. 
 
 "In a short time, several young women brought me 
 some dried buffalo-meat, some smoked fish, and some 
 potatoes, as well as the various utensils in use in an 
 Indian household. After thanking them, I made a 
 sign that I would like to take some repose. 
 
 " For a short time I remained plunged in sad refleo 
 
 141 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 tions, thinking gloomily of my friends-;, my fai of! 
 home, and the unhappy life which I should probably 
 lead among the Indians, who are generally so cruel in 
 disposition. The excitable wish to study novelty had 
 now passed; and, in my calmer reflection, I saw that I 
 ought to have profited by their gratitude to obtain a 
 guide as far as St. Louis. I fancied that I should, per 
 haps, be a witness to scenes of murder and carnage, 
 and my courage failed me. 
 
 "Recovering, however, after a while, from these 
 gloomy considerations, I reflected upon the discoveries 
 which I might make in this country, so wholly un 
 known, the various natural productions of which I 
 had then no idea; the nations, whose manners and cus 
 toms and traditions I might learn; besides, recalling 
 the liberty which I possessed to leave them when it 
 might suit me. 
 
 "Accordingly, having shaken off my gloom, I deter 
 mined upon examining the village where I now found 
 myself. 
 
 " It was about ten o clock in the morning, when I 
 left my wigwam. 
 
 "While crossing the village, I noticed thai it was 
 divided into two distinct parts, each occupied by a 
 section of the tribe. It was about one hundred yards 
 wide, and two-thirds of a mile long, extending along 
 the bank of the rb r er. The wigwams were built simi- 
 
AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 
 
 larly to the council-chamber, and were in the shape of 
 a truncated cone. 
 
 "The plain behind the village was bordered by a num 
 ber of wooded hills ; but, elsewhere, the country was 
 almost wholly treeless, and presented a succession of 
 valleys filled with tall grass, and flowers of every hue. 
 
 While examining the face of the country, my at 
 tention was drawn to a singular spectacle. Upon the 
 river were several canoes ; but they were not made 
 like those which I had hitherto seen, or, indeed, formed 
 of wood. Each was composed of a single buffalo-skin, 
 spread out upon some long sticks or boughs. 
 
 In each of these was a squaw, who guided the frail 
 boat with a paddle, and, attached to the after part of 
 it, floated a bundle of faggots, for her household fire. 
 This style of canoe is very common among the In 
 dians. The facility with which buffalo-skins can be 
 rolled up and transported on horseback makes them 
 very handy for carrying small loads in their frail holds, 
 across rivers and lakes. 
 
 " The immense number of horses which were grazing 
 in the valleys and on the hill slopes attested the pas 
 sion of the Aricaras for these animals. In fact, their 
 great wealth consists in the number of horses they 
 possess, for which they have a similar affection to that 
 of an Arab for his courser. The Aricaras manage these 
 beautiful animals with admirable skill, and justly de* 
 
144 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 serve their reputation as the best horsemen of the 
 prairies. 
 
 "Most of their horses came from the deserts beyond, 
 though some had been bought of the Poncas, the 
 Pawnees, or other south-westerly tribes, who probably 
 stole them from the whites, in some of their numerous 
 invasions. Animals of this class were recognizable by 
 their short tails, and were destined only for sale, as the 
 Indians themselves do not like even the slightest muti 
 lation in any animal they at all esteem. 
 
 " For several days, I led the life of an Indian ; that 
 is to say, my time was passed in entire indolence, all 
 mere labor being left to the women, whether in the 
 field or in the house. 
 
 "They clean the wigwam, cut and bring the wood 
 for the kitchen, and prepare the game which their 
 lords have killed. They also cultivate small patches 
 of maize, and other articles of food. 
 
 "Their time of enjoyment is sunset, when the labors 
 of the day are over. Then they amuse themselves 
 with various games ; or else, passing their heady 
 through the opening at the tops of their wigwams, 
 they talk over the various events of the day. 
 
 "The Indians, while at their villages, spend their time 
 on the banks of the river, on the slopes of the prairies, 
 or seated before their huts. There they smoke, and 
 talk over the affairs of their tribe, the e\ ents and ex- 
 
AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 145 
 
 ploits of the last hunt, or the histories of their warlike 
 expeditions. They often, also, listen to the deeds of 
 their ancestors, recited by some old warrior. 
 
 "At first, I joined these groups, where I was always 
 received courteously, and where the pipe was immedi 
 ately passed to me. However, when the novelty 
 had passed away, I soon grew weary of this existence, 
 and recommenced my wanderings. 
 
 "Amid this rich vegetation I daily made some inter 
 esting discovery. 
 
 "Here, it was a flower, magnificently colored; 
 there, an insect, in gorgeous array, led me an exciting 
 chase; or some new plant displayed its leaves, deli 
 cately traced as lace. Some herbs and shrubs I found, 
 whose medicinal qualities had been explained to me 
 by Lewis. These I carefully collected, in chance that 
 I might need them. 
 
 " Happy in being able, in need, to show my grati 
 tude to men who had shown me such generous hospi 
 tality, I employed my little knowledge in relieving 
 their ailments. - 
 
 "God allowed my efforts to succeed; and, in a short 
 time, I was looked upon by the Aricaras more as a 
 sorcerer than as a simple mortal. 
 
 "Two facts, which occurred in immediate succession, 
 gave me a reputation as a doctor, which the color of 
 10 
 
1-16 THE PUAIFJE CRUSOE. 
 
 my skin, alone; was sufficient to warrant. In the opin 
 ion of the Indians, a white man comes into the world 
 with medical science infused into him ; and a refusal to 
 assist the sick is looked upon by them as a sign of great 
 ill-will. 
 
 " One morning, a woman in great apparent grief, 
 and uttering loud outcries, passed quickly along to 
 wards the wigwam of their chief sorcerer, to procure 
 some amulet to save the life of her child, which was in 
 danger. Stopping her, I made her turn back with me 
 to her dwelling. It was that of one of the bravest 
 warriors of the tribe. 
 
 A child of seven or eight years was stretched upon 
 some mats on the ground. It was crying violently, 
 amid sharp spasms or convulsions. 
 
 " Its chest was cold, and its limbs were fast stiffening 
 and numb. Looking around, while I had taken the 
 child upon iny knee, and was endeavoring to open its 
 mouth, I perceived, on the ground, some branches and 
 leaves of azedarnch, a shrub possessing very violent 
 and dangerous properties. The child had evidently 
 eaten sufficient of its fruit to .place him in his present 
 serious danger. 
 
 "I had in. my hut three plants, collected in m) 
 walks, which are powerful emetics they were the 
 hohi ; the blue lobelia, a charming prairie-flower ; and 
 
AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 147 
 
 the phytolacca, a shrub whose berries ire such a pow 
 erful purgative, that the flesh of pigeon* which feed on 
 them acquires this same property. 
 
 "This last I hastened back to get, and gave the 
 child an infusion of it at once. The effect was rapid 
 and decisive. The child threw up a considerable 
 quantity of azedarach, and, in a short time, its pain 
 ceased. I laid some cotton-tree leaves upon his 
 stomach and chest, and, when he began to perspire, 
 I went away, with the blessing of the poor mother. 
 In a short time the child was running about, and play 
 ing with its companions, as well as ever. 
 
 " Two days later, the father returned from a hunt, 
 and learned what had occurred. Tie came to see me, 
 and, after a discourse which was full of feeling and 
 energy, he begged me to accept the presents which he 
 had brought me. These consisted of fruits, mats, 
 furs, feathers, hatchets, a gun, some knives, and house 
 hold utensils. 
 
 " To refuse would have been an insult ; so I thank 
 fully accepted his magnificent fee. 
 
 " The news of this cure was soon spread abroad in 
 the village ; and, before three days had elapsed, I was 
 visited by one of the chiefs of the tribe, who begged 
 me to come to his wife, who was slowly dying of some 
 unknown disease. 
 
 "Although very doubtful of my own skill, I fol- 
 
148 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 lowed him, being naturally desirous of losing no 
 opportunity of being useful to a fellow-creature. 
 Stretched upon some buffilo-robes, I found a woman 
 who was still young, but whose deep sunken eyes and 
 sickly appearance made her appear much older than she 
 really was. Her feebleness had very certainly been 
 much increased by the unskilful treatment of the sor 
 cerer of the tribe. 
 
 " Her hand was burning hot ; and, after a few ques 
 tions, I found she was suffering with one of those in 
 termittent fevers which slowly undermine the whole 
 constitution, and not unfrequently terminate in death. 
 
 "I recommended her husband to build a wigwam 
 for her on one of the hills which overlooked the vil 
 lage, because her present dwelling was damp (being on 
 low ground, and near the water) ; promising, at the 
 same time, to do all in my power to relieve her. 
 
 " Going out of the village, I sought a spot where I 
 had seen some Tartarian honeysuckle, some of which 
 I gathered, as well as plantain, which was everywhere 
 abundant. For want of the tulip-tree, the willow, or, 
 better than any other, quinquina (Peruvian bark), I 
 used these two plants, which, I was aware, were of 
 benefit in cases of intermittent fever. 
 
 " My treatment was commenced the following day, 
 before the access of fever, and continued for two or 
 three weeks. Its effect, and the change of dwelling, 
 
AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 149 
 
 Boon favored her recovery. Her strength returned, hei 
 appetite was excited, she slept quietly, and before long 
 was able to move about, and tend to her usual duties. 
 "For this, also, I was obliged to receive visits of 
 thanksgiving, gifts of every kind, and protestations of 
 gratitude and devotedness, which I was only too care 
 ful to cultivate. The affection of men noted for theii 
 fidelity to their word was much too precious for me, 
 alone in their midst, not to seek it most earnestly, or 
 to neglect it when it was offered me." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A BUFFALO-HUNT. THE ANTELOPES. A PANIC. 
 
 "ONE evening, the Great Eagle asked me if I would 
 like to assist at a buffalo-hunt. I eagerly replied that 
 I would follow him anywhere. We accordingly started 
 at daybreak the following morning. 
 
 "We travelled for a good distance; and I saw that 
 we were entering a very wild district, where the eye 
 met with enormous prairies, which were enlivened here 
 and there with innumerable troops of buffaloes. 
 
 "Sometimes we saw these animals at a distance, 
 crossing the prairie slowly, in a long procession : at 
 other times, they were variously grouped in the midst 
 of a vast plain, covered with flowers, or on the slope of 
 the verdure-clad hills. Part of them were enjoying 
 the rich pasturage, while others were lying down, al 
 most concealed in the tall grass. 
 "We reached a bank of the river, which seemed 
 
 151 
 
If) 2 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 jil most covered with these animals. The Indians 
 launched their canoes, and manager! to kill several 
 buffaloes while they were endeavoring to ford the 
 stream. 
 
 " Continuing the hunt, we reached a small island, 
 where they had landed. Some were reposing beneath 
 the shady trees; others were refreshing themselves with 
 a bath in the water, or rolling in the dirt, to get rid of 
 the troublesome insects which annoyed them. 
 
 " Several of the best hunters entered a large boat, 
 and, profiting by a good breeze, ascended the stream 
 gently, without making any noise. The bisons re 
 mained quietly upon the shore, ignorant of the dangei 
 which threatened them. The hunters managed to sur 
 round the fattest of the troop, and, by firing altogether, 
 killed a large number. 
 
 " Among these animals, we saw many elks, and some 
 charming antelopes. The latter is is the most graceful 
 and admirable animal of the Western prairies. 
 
 There are in this country two species of antelopes ; 
 one about the size of a deer, the other not larger than 
 a goat. Their color is a clear fawn, with white streaks, 
 and their horns are small, like those of the deer. 
 
 " Nothing can equal the elegance and delicacy of 
 their limbs, in which lightness, elasticity, and strength 
 are combined in a remarkable manner. Every motion 
 of this charming creature is supple and graceful. The} 
 
A BUFFALO HUNT. A PANIC. lf>3 
 
 are fantastic and timid, living on the plains, and easily 
 alarmed. When they are, they fly with such rapidity, 
 that pursuit is useless; but their curiosity often costs 
 them their life. 
 
 1 When they have fled to a certain distance, and 
 have left the hunter far behind, they stop suddenly, 
 and turn to look at the occasion of their fright. If the 
 hunter has not followed them, yielding to curiosity, 
 they return to the place where they were first fright 
 ened, and thus fall into the snare which awaits them. 
 
 "When our buffalo-hunt was over, I expressed re 
 gret that I had not captured an antelope in order to 
 examine this charming animal still nearer. The Great 
 Eagle replied, that, if I would come with him, he would 
 get me one. Consequently I followed him with plea 
 sure, away from the other hunters. 
 
 " We had to walk during some four hours ; for the 
 antelopes, frightened by the reports of the guns, had 
 retired farther from us, across the prairies. 
 
 "At last we perceived a troop. Immediately the 
 chief recommended me to remain quiet, and, throwing 
 himself on his face in the tall grass, he bade me do the 
 same. To satisfy my desire to catch one alive, he set 
 a trap near by our place of concealment. 
 
 " Knowing the wild character of the antelope, I was 
 anxious to see how the Great Eagle would manage to 
 draw him into the snare; but I was soon satisfied. 
 
I fit THE PUATPJE CRUSOE. 
 
 " He fastened a piece of skin to a pole which he 
 had brought with him, and waved it gently above the 
 grass. 
 
 " I soon saw one of those nearest us give a shy look 
 at the object which floated in the air; then, as if 
 yielding to an influence similar to that which snakes 
 are said to exert, it cautiously approached, stopping 
 occasionally, until, at last, it fell a victim to its curi 
 osity. 
 
 " We immediately came out from our hiding-place ; 
 for its wild endeavors to get out of the trap might 
 have broken its legs. The Great Eagle, however, tied 
 them together, and I carried off my prize on my back. 
 " I rejoiced in the idea of preserving it to be offered 
 to Bertha, when I should be able to re-visit Europe ; 
 but I soon had to renounce this intention. Notwith 
 standing all my efforts, the poor animal would take no 
 nourishment ; and, as I did not wish to kill it, at the 
 end of two days I set it free. Deeply as I regretted 
 this, it would have caused me greater pain to deprive 
 it of its life by holding it captive. 
 
 " Some days after our return, the village was excited 
 by the report that a party of Sioux, some five hundred 
 Btrong, were approaching the camp. 
 
 "The Aricaras, who have suffered much in their 
 struggles with this cruel and ferocious tribe, usually 
 take greater precautions against surprise than the 
 
A BUFFALO-HUNT. A PANIC. 15f> 
 
 Indian tribes. They place sentinels upon sur 
 rounding eminences. As the prairies stretch far out 
 of sight, like a vast ocean, no one can show himself, 
 without being signalized at once, which information is 
 communicated around with great rapidity. They have 
 certain signs agreed upon, something after the style of 
 our telegraph. 
 
 "Thus, when they see a herd of buffaloes, they begin 
 to walk backwards and forwards ; but, should it be a 
 troop of enemies that they see, they run from left to 
 right, crossing each other rapidly. At this signal, the 
 whole tribe rushes to arms. 
 
 " One afternoon we had quite a serious alarm. 
 
 " Four sentinels, stationed on the top of a small hill, 
 began to gallop, and cross each other s paths. Every 
 one rushed to prepare for the fight. 
 
 " Men, women, and children cried and yelled ; the 
 dogs barked, and came close to the huts. Some war 
 riors leaped upon their horses to reconnoitre. Others 
 prepared their weapons and their bodies, and donned 
 their tufts of feathers. Some went entirely naked, 
 carrying only lance and shield. The women and chil 
 dren clambered to the tops of the wigwams, where their 
 vociferations added to the confusion. 
 
 "The old men incapable of bearing arms watched 
 the entrance to the village, and, when the warriors 
 passed, they exhorted them to conquer or perish. 
 
I* r )G THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " Soon 1 saw the cavalry advance, commanded by 
 the Great Eagle. There were about five hundred men, 
 perfectly armed, and mounted on horses full of life and 
 vigor. They brandished their weapons, uttering their 
 war-cries, and making the place resound with their de 
 fiance of the Sioux. 
 
 " I did not hesitate to follow. The approach of dan 
 ger, preparations for the fight, and the desire to signal 
 ize myself amid all these warriors whom I personally 
 knew, animated me so, that I leaped upon a horse, and 
 rode to the side of the chief. He seemed to notice 
 me with some surprise ; but, seeing by my eye that I 
 was serious in my resolution, he looked highly pleased, 
 and, taking his own tomahawk from his saddle, pre 
 sented it to me. 
 
 " This was the greatest mark of esteem which he 
 could offer ; and, thanking him with a gesture, I fell in 
 close behind him. 
 
 " When we had ridden some little time, one of our 
 scouts came in, and reported that the enemy, finding 
 his project discovered, had retired in all haste, and that 
 thus the danger was over. 
 
 " Orders were given to watch, with great attention, 
 for fear of a surprise ; and we returned to c?mp. 
 
 " When dismounting, I wished to return the toma 
 hawk to the chief who had handed it to me ; but the 
 Great Eagle refused it, and, beckoning to me as well as 
 
A BUFFALO-HUNT. A PANIC. 157 
 
 to his warriors to follow him, he entered the council- 
 wigwam. Then, after the usual ceremonies had taken 
 place, he arose slowly, and with great dignity, looking 
 around upon the assembly, spoke thus : 
 
 " 4 Chiefs and warriors, the Great Spirit has smiled 
 upon his people, and has allowed a powerful White 
 Sorcerer to come among us for our good. You have 
 already seen the wicked spirits who had taken posses 
 sion of the bodies of our wives and children fly before 
 the great power of the White Sorcerer. To-day we 
 are witnesses of a new proof of the power which the 
 Wacondah has given to his pale son. The Sioux, our 
 most bitter enemies, have fled like squaws when they 
 saw this White Sorcerer at our h&ad. To him do we 
 owe that the scalps of our brethren and of ourselves do 
 not hang at the doors of our enemy s wigwams. He 
 has saved our nation, and cured our women and chil 
 dren. Let him, therefore, be our chief, and lead us on 
 the war-trail. We will obey him. Let him, therefore, 
 accept the token of command. 
 
 "With these words, he loosed the circlet of eagle- 
 feathers which bound his own brows, and laid it at my 
 feet. 
 
 " Such is the superstition of these people, who do 
 not understand the medicine of the whites, that they 
 actually imagine it a work of sorcery to cure disease 
 According to them, the White Sorcerer is so powerful, 
 
158 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 that he who would venture to ignore or resist hi 
 power would be instantly possessed by the bad spirits, 
 and would waste gradually away, or die immediately. 
 
 "Hence, notwithstanding the grief which the propo 
 sition of the Great Eagle caused them, no one of the 
 warriors dared to raise his voice to oppose it. 
 " Profiting by their credulity, I did not abuse it. 
 " 1 was not sorry to see my credit and standing aug 
 mented among them, and wished to preserve it, because 
 it might one day be of service to me. Nevertheless, I 
 did not, by any means, aspire or desire to become a 
 chief of the red men. 
 
 " In turn, arising, I answered, that the Great Spirit 
 had indeed sent me to them for the happiness of 
 his beloved children, but that he did not wish the Great 
 Eagle, one of the most powerful chiefs of the prairies, 
 to give up his authority to me. On the contrary, he 
 desired him to keep it in order to conduct his people 
 again to victory. 
 
 "My words were received with shouts of joy; and 
 the Great Eagle kissed me Indian fashion, that is on 
 the mouth. This species of embrace, however, was 2 
 ceremony which I would most willingly have been ex 
 cused from participating in, notwithstanding my true 
 friendly feeling for the noble chief." 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A BATTLE. WILLIAM SAVED BY THE GREAT EAGLE, 
 
 " SOME months later, as we were returning f rom a 
 great hunt, a singular noise attracted the attention of 
 the Indians; but ray ears had not yet acquired tlio 
 delicacy of perception of sound which the red man 
 possesses in such an eminent degree. 
 
 "In fact, the slightest sound, at a very great distance, 
 will awaken his attention. He recognizes the differ 
 ence which exists between the step of a man of his 
 own tribe and that of one belonging to another. 
 
 "The Panther, one of their most skilful warriors, 
 was sent to discover the number and the nature of the 
 enemy whom they had to combat. I saw him depart si 
 lently and rapidly through the bushes. His movements 
 were so adroit, that I soon lost sight of him. No ap 
 pearance of him was left in the prairie, no grass seemed 
 to be pressed down where he had passed. We awaited 
 in profound silence the return of our scout. 
 
 159 
 
160 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE, 
 
 "Shortly after, the Great Eagle, near whom I was 
 sitting, made a motion to take his rifle, but, throwing 
 his head forward, he seemed satisfied, and returned to 
 his former impassibility. 
 
 "In a few more minutes, an Indian made his appear 
 nnce close to us. I could not repress an exclamation 
 of surprise, and was about to seize a weapon, when the 
 chief pronounced the word 4 Panther. At once I rec 
 ognized him who had been sent to scout ; but I could 
 never explain to myself how he had managed to return 
 by the side opposite to that by which he departed, and 
 that too, without any noise being made, or any motion 
 in the long grass of the prairie. 
 
 " The Panther told us that a party of Sioux were 
 hunting buffaloes in the neighborhood. lie, however, 
 suspected, that, under pretence of a hunt, they con 
 cealed the design of approaching our village, because 
 they were armed for battle. 
 
 " The Great Eagle immediately made his dispositions 
 for the purpose of causing them to tall into an ambus 
 cade. 
 
 "Near us was a small grove, which was joined to the 
 woody part of a hill that closed in the plain on one 
 side. The sounds which we heard came from beyond 
 this wood, so that we were completely hidden from the 
 eyes of the Sioux. 
 
 *Our chief ordered us all to pass among the trees on 
 
ETC. 161 
 
 the edge of the wood, and on the side where our adver 
 saries would approach. 
 
 " The Aricaras stood quietly beside their horses, in 
 telligent animals, who seemed to understand that one- 
 half the battle depended upon them, in consequence of 
 which, no neighing, and not the slightest movement, 
 betrayed their presence.- 
 
 " The Sioux soon appeared pursuing several buffaloes. 
 
 " Immediately the Great Eagle leaped upon his horse, 
 and, followed by all his warriors, precipitated himself 
 upon the enemy, who, not expecting our attack, at first 
 took to flight. However, the courage natural to their 
 tribe made them return to the contest after joining 
 their chief force; and they then advanced, uttering 
 loud war-cries. 
 
 "I must own that, at this moment, I lost all presence 
 of mind. It was the first time that I was present at 
 an engagement with these Indians ; and their yelling 
 appeared so savage and extraordinary, that I at first re 
 mained motionless as if I had been turned into marble. 
 
 "The Sioux formed rapidly in a semicircle, and 
 sought to envelop us. Our great chief, nevertheless, 
 saw the danger; and, by a movement equally well 
 ordered and executed, the line of the Sioux was obliged 
 to turn upon its left to prevent being flanked by us. 
 
 " From this "moment the melee became general. At 
 first, nothing -- *uld be heard but the reports of rifles, 
 
162 THE PR A HUE CRUSOE. 
 
 accompanied with the horrible yells of the savages: then 
 each one seized his tomahawk and rushed, brandishing 
 it upon whatever adversary chanced to be next him. 
 
 " After the first few moments of the struggle, I re 
 collected my scattered senses, and, excited by the smell 
 of powder, rushed into the struggle. 
 
 " A tall Sioux, with repulsive visage, and extraordi 
 narily painted, perceived me, and, urging his horse across 
 my path, directed a stroke of his tomahawk at me, 
 which, thanks to the prompt action of the animal I was 
 riding, merely grazed my arm without wounding me. 
 The Sioux had dashed in so swiftly, that his horse 
 made two or three steps beyond me, before he could 
 check it* As he returned, I fired my rifle, and falling 
 from his saddle, with a terrible cry of rage, he expired. 
 
 " This first victory augmented rny ardor, and, seizing 
 the tomahawk which hung from my saddle, I followed 
 towards the spot where I saw the tall feather of the 
 Great Eagle waving in the fray. A horrible carnage 
 had been going on around him and two Aricaras, 
 who were surrounded by Sioux. There were already 
 lying dead around them several of our brave lellows 
 who had fallen while defending their chief. 
 
 "lie was worthy of his name. His eyes, which 
 seemed literally to flash with light, appeared to mock 
 at the death which threatened him on every side. His 
 tomahawk fell every moment. Swung by a firm hand, 
 
A BATTLE, ETC. 
 
 each time it was raised it was stained by the blood of 
 another Sioux who fell in death beneatli his terrible 
 arm. 
 
 " J ust as I approached, full gallop, his strength began 
 to fail. One of his defenders had just been wounded 
 by a knife. With a fury of which I did not know my- 
 self capable, I attacked from behind the Sioux who 
 were pressing on him, and wielded so successfully the 
 terrible weapon which he had given me, that two of 
 his stoutest enemies fell beneath its blows. 
 
 44 Our chief was relieved; but I had fallen into a still 
 greater peril. I was scarcely master of my horse, and 
 was trying to manage it while I was also defending 
 myself, when a Sioux, wounded, and stretched upon the 
 ground, gave the poor beast such a violent blow with 
 his knife in the stomach, that it fell, crushing the sav 
 age who dealt the blow, and throwing me violently to 
 the earth. 
 
 "I felt myself lost; and a dozen knives and hatchets 
 were raised to despatch me, when a terrible war-cry 
 younded at my side, and a tomahawk with rapid circle 
 turned aside the weapons which menaced me. The 
 Great Eagle had seen me fall, and came, with lightning 
 speed, to pay me, in turn, the debt of gratitude which 
 he had so recently incurred. 
 
 " Followed by several warriors, he overturned all who 
 opposed him. In a very few moments, I was freed, and 
 
164 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 rose without a single wound, although I was stained 
 with the blood which covered the ground. 
 
 " This decided the victory. 
 
 "All the Sioux whom the swiftness of their horses 
 did not preserve from the blows of the Aricaras were 
 pitilessly murdered, and I saw, when the fray had 
 ended, all around me the traces of a shocking massacre. 
 
 "The Aricaras who survived, even the wounded, 
 joined their voices in one long, last battle-cry of vic 
 tory, and then proceeded to indulge in the repulsive 
 occupation of scalping their dead enemies. 
 
 " The scalp thus torn from the head of their foes is, 
 in their eyes, a great trophy, which the Indian hangs 
 from his waist when he goes to battle, and at the door 
 of his wigwam in time of peace. 
 
 " I turned my eyes in horror from this sight, and 
 went to sit down at a distance, that I might not be a 
 witness of this horrible mutilation. 
 
 "The Great Eagle came up, and said that I also 
 ought to take the scalp of the enemies whom I had 
 killed, that I might present myself as a true chief be 
 fore the Manitou. 
 
 "My reply was that the custom of my ountry *or- 
 bade such things. I had killed the Sioux only in 
 defence of my life and that of men who had received 
 me as a brother, and that I would leave their scalps tc 
 whoever wished to take them. 
 
A 1UTTLE, ETC. I5 
 
 " To these words he merely replied with a grunt, that 
 is significative of great surprise among the Indians, 
 and. disdaining to say any more upon the subject, went 
 away to collect his warriors, and prepare to retuni 
 home." 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TRIUMPHAL RETURN. THE FUNERAL. 
 
 AFTER a march of two days, we arrived about 
 three miles from camp about sunrise. 
 
 As this is a common hour for surprises among t 
 
 Indians, the sentinels gave the alarm, mistakin 
 the distance for Sioux. 
 
 We soon saw the tops of the wigwams covered 
 with the Aricaras; and the Great Eagle seat a me* 
 senger forward to re-assure his tribe, and to announce 
 the bloody conflict in which we had defeated the 
 Sioux, with a loss of only eighteen killed and 
 
 wounded. . 
 
 a As soon as the news of the victory was m 
 the village was filled with joy; and a brilliant rccrpti 
 was prepared for us. 
 
 "All the finest equipments of the warriors were t 
 to them, that they might appear with all the mag 
 cence possible. 
 
1G8 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 "As I knew that their preparations w< / J require, 
 probably, a good portion of the day, and as I v ished to 
 witness a ceremony which I might never have another 
 occasion to enjoy, I took leave of the Great Eagle, am) 
 decided to return to the village, where my (, xploits ha") 
 already been made known by the messenger. 
 
 "My arrival caused a general surprise, as they ex 
 pected that I would paint and decorate myself like the 
 other warriors. However, the characteristic tacilu/nity 
 of the race prevented them from asking any questions 
 
 "Those who had not taken part in the affair put on 
 their finest array of ornaments to do honor to tl e com 
 ing heroes. 
 
 "The Aricaras, like most Indian tribes, generally go 
 nearly naked. They, nevertheless, have a ,v*od toilet 
 for ceremonial occasions. 
 
 " At such times, they usually wear an np[wr garment 
 of some bright color, ordinarily blue or i*jd. They 
 wrap their legs in antelope-skins, ornamento-i with por 
 cupine-quills of richly variegated colors, fastened to 
 their shoulders, and falling gracefully from them, is a 
 handsome mantle of buffalo-skin. A well-filled quiver 
 is slung across their back, and the head is surmounted 
 by a coronet of feathers. Of these, they prefer those 
 of the swan. The most renowned chiefs alone are 
 allowed to wear those of the black eagle, which bird is 
 held as sacred by all tribes of Indians. 
 
TRIUMPHAL RETURN. FUNERAL. 1G9 
 
 " One who has killed an enemy with his own hand 
 may attach a fox s or wolf s tail to the heels of his 
 moccasons, while those who have killed a grisly bear 
 wear his claws for a necklace. This is the most honor- 
 able decoration of a hunter, and entitles him to enter 
 the council of the nation. 
 
 At the camp, as well as in the village, all were busy 
 preparing for the coming ceremony. 
 
 " An Indian s state toilet is an operation which re 
 quires much care and labor; for he often paints himself 
 from head to foot : and the combination of lines and 
 emblems, of every conceivable nature and color, re 
 quires considerable skill. So a full quarter of the day 
 passed, and nothing, as yet, announced the triumphal 
 march of the victors. 
 
 "Meanwhile, deep silence reigned in the village. 
 Many of the inhabitants had gone to meet the victors. 
 The rest remained in silent suspense. All labor was 
 suspended; and no one was visible, save the women who 
 were preparing the "feast for the warriors. Tin; very 
 children seemed unwilling to disturb the solemn pause 
 that occurred previous to the triumphal entrance of 
 their fathers and relatives. 
 
 "Towards noon, the sound of instruments and 
 human voices announced that the procession was on 
 the march. The old men and several of the women 
 
t THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 left their wigwams to receive the victors at the en- 
 trance of the village. 
 
 " The sight was to me both strange and picturesque, 
 us they appeared ascending a hill with slow and meas- 
 ired steps to the cadence of their chants and savage 
 music. 
 
 " Their war banners, composed of the skins of ani 
 mals, floated in the wind. The feathers, paint, and 
 silver ornaments, with which they had decked them 
 selves, glittered beneath the rays of the July sun. 
 
 " There was something really solemn and majestic in 
 their appearance. 
 
 " The Aricaras are divided into four bands, or com 
 panies, each bearing the name of some animal or bird, 
 as the buffalo, the bear, the dog, and the phe. isfiiit. 
 The one most esteemed is that of the dog, which is 
 composed of young men under thirty. To belong to 
 this band, one must have performed some striking 
 deed, as it is always looked to in desperate affairs, and 
 forms a sort of reserve-guard. 
 
 "The principal chief of the tribe is chosen from 
 among the Dogs, and among them the Great Eagle 
 performed his first feats of arms, and displayed his 
 courage. 
 
 " These bands approached separately, under resp Act 
 ive chiefs. Those on foot came first in line, ten der>p f 
 and afterwards followed those who were mounted. 
 
TRIUMPHAL RETURN. FUNERAL. 171 
 
 u In front of each band marched a warrior, holding, 
 as a standard, a lance or a bow, ornamented with neck 
 laces of porcupine-quills, skins of animals, and painted 
 feathers. Several carried, as trophies, scalps hanging 
 from long poles, all bloody and matted as they swung 
 in the wind. There was also at the head of each band 
 a sort of bard or minstrel, who sang the exploits of the 
 fight ; while several Indians did their best to produce 
 sounds, for I am unable to call them music, from their 
 various instruments. 
 
 " The warriors were not all armed in the same man 
 ner. Some had guns, and others bows and arrows, or 
 tomahawks. All had buffalo-hide bucklers, or shields, 
 winch is the general means of defence used by the 
 Indians of the desert, who have not the shelter of 
 the woods to protect them from the arrows of their 
 enemies. 
 
 "They were all painted in the most horrible manner, 
 according to individual taste. Some, even, had bloody 
 hands painted near their mouths, to signify that they 
 had taken the life of an adversary. 
 
 "As they approached the village, they were received 
 with acclamations of joy, joined with lamentations for 
 the warriors who had died on the field. They, how 
 ever, maintained solemn, impassible features as they 
 continued their slow advance. 
 
 "Between the Great Eagle and another principal 
 
172 THE PRATRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 chief rode a young warrior who had distinguished 
 himself in the battle. He was so severely wounded 
 that it was with the greatest difficulty he could sit 
 upon his horse. But, in spite of his sufferings, he 
 preserved a calm countenance, as if regardless of his 
 condition. 
 
 " His poor mother, who had learned his condition, 
 ran towards him, crying, and shedding bitter tears. He, 
 until the last, maintained the calm stoicism of a true 
 Indian warrior. No emotion was visible in his face, 
 and yet he expired in a few moments after reaching the 
 wigwam of his parent. 
 
 "Meanwhile, the village was a scene of almost deliri 
 ous joy. 
 
 "The banners, scalps, bucklers, and other troph cs 
 captured from the Sioux, were fixed on poles, ami sus 
 pended in front of the wigwams. The Indians exeeMted 
 their war-dance, accompanied with a battle-song : ni,l 
 music, so outrageously discordant, th;:t I was almost 
 deafened by it; while heralds at-anns, if I may call them 
 so, went from hut to hut, repeating in loud tones the 
 details of the combat and the bold deeds of the 
 warriors. 
 
 "Amid this noisy festival, I caught some strange 
 sounds, apparently of mourning, from the neighboring 
 hills; and, inquiring what these were, an Indian informed 
 me that the women were there lamenting the loss of 
 
TRIUMPHAL RETURN. FUNERAL. 173 
 
 their dead. They were the mothers, wives, and daugh 
 ters of those who had fallen beneath the blows of tho 
 Sioux, and had retired to solitude where they might 
 freely indulge their grief. 
 
 < The rejoicings lasted until night, and, if the Sioux 
 had then come to attack their enemies, I really do not 
 not know what might have happened. 
 
 " The next day, at early dawn, I was awakened by 
 the Great Eagle, who came to invite me to assist at the 
 funeral ceremonies. I followed him, and, in the middle 
 of the village, I found all the tribe assembled, no longer 
 joyous for their victory, as on the preceding day, but 
 seated in profound silence, and representing a nation in 
 mourning. 
 
 " When we arrived, the bodies of eighteen dead 
 braves had been already committed to the earth, and 
 there remained only the young Indian who had expired 
 at the very door of his wigwam. 
 
 "The body was seated as if he were living, in a 
 noble and imposing attitude, and clothed in his richest 
 ornaments. A crown of eagle s plumes was on His 
 head; necklaces, bracelets, and medals covered hid 
 body: but his sightless eye and decomposing features 
 marked too plainly the presence of death for any one 
 to mistake it. 
 
 " At his feet were his lance and shield. On his knees 
 were his bow and arrows. Near him his horse, capari- 
 
174 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 soned as for war, waited to be immolated on his grave. 
 He seemed to understand the universal grief; for his 
 head was drooped as he gazed sadly at the remains of 
 his former master. 
 
 "An old man arose, and slowly spoke as follows: 
 
 " Brother, the Manitou had need of a great warrior. 
 He called one of his children, and our brother has gone 
 to the great prairie. His life has passed as rapidly as 
 the course of the sun; but it was more brilliant than 
 the father of light at noontide. He was the Panther 
 of his tribe. His foot was as fleet as that of the ante 
 lope. His eye shone like the fire which blazed from 
 his gun, and his voice in war was like the thunder. 
 He was brave, good, and useful. The Manitou had 
 need of such a warrior. He has called him. 
 
 " The silence was profound, and was broken only by 
 the voices of the women, who commenced singing a 
 kind of dirge. The melody was very sweet and in el- 
 ancholy. Each in turn sang of the exploits of the 
 dead brave, and, at the end of each strophe, they re 
 peated a kind of monotonous chorus. 
 
 " When they had terminated this song, one of the men 
 arose, and sang also the praises of the dead. He was 
 succeeded by others ; and all the warriors of the tribe, 
 in turn, paid tribute to the memory of the defunct. 
 
 "Immediately after, the Great Eagle rose. Then 
 wrapping the body in a buffalo-skin, they deposited it 
 
TRIUMPHAL RETURN. FUNERAL. 175 
 
 in a bark coffin, borne by four young men ; after which 
 the procession started. 
 
 " When they reached the burial-place, the coffin was 
 placed in the ground, its head turned towards the cast, 
 and was covered with instruments of war and hunting. 
 An opening was made in the bier, so that the spirit 
 might communicate at pleasure with the mortal re 
 mains ; and the whole was protected from the attacks 
 of beasts of prey by means of large stones and thorny 
 bushes, which were in turn covered with the earth, and 
 carefully pressed down with the feet. His horse was 
 then led forward, and immolated over his grave, that 
 the Indian might present himself before the Great 
 Spirit in a manner becoming a brave warrior. 
 
 "Amid the silence which followed was heard the 
 voice of the Great Eagle: 
 
 " It is enough, said he : c children of the Aricaras, 
 the Manitou is satisfied. 
 
 " The tribe dispersed in silence, and every ono 
 returned to his usual occupations. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 EXCURSIONS. A TRISONEB. 
 
 " I HAD now been more than two years an iong the 
 Aricaras. 
 
 " During the first months we had repulsed several 
 attacks of the Sioux; but constantly beaten, and 
 meeting with great losses, these warlike Indians had 
 at length quitted our territories, and we had since en 
 joyed profound peace. 
 
 "During all this time, I lived quietly, dividing my 
 time between hunting and natural history. I had be 
 come a singularly good marksman, and rarely missed 
 jiny game which came within reach of my rifle ; so 
 that I received the name of the Buffalo-killer. I 
 made solitary excursions in the neighborhood, some 
 times remaining two or three days absent from the 
 village. 
 
 "I was returning from one of these excursions, re- 
 12 177 
 
178 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 fleeting upon my present life among these savage peo 
 ple. As I was thinking busily of my friends on the 
 far side of the ocean, who must have long since given 
 me up for altogether lost to them, I heard a horse gal 
 loping behind me." 
 
 "It was an Aricara, who, having rejoined me, in 
 formed me that there was news in the camp since I 
 had last left it. 
 
 " Traces of traps had been seen on the banks of the 
 river which flowed before the villnge; and the Indians, 
 jealous of the exclusive possession of their territory, 
 had gone out to watch for the marauders who came to 
 hunt on their grounds, which had belonged to their 
 fathers. 
 
 "They were not long in finding a white hunter, 
 who, seeing himself surrounded, wished at least to sell 
 his life dearly. 
 
 " They had succeeded in taking him alive ; but the 
 victory had cost them the lives of three of their best 
 warriors, who fell beneath his unerring aim. 
 
 " Bound closely, he was led to the camp ; and the as 
 sembled council had decided that he should be burned 
 at the stake. 
 
 " The Indian desired me to hasten if I would wit 
 ness what he called a, feast. The punishment was to 
 take place that same day ; and he thought that no true 
 
EXCURSIONS. A PRISONER. !) 
 
 red-skin could be dispensed with, in assisting at si.ch a 
 ceremony. 
 
 "As to myself, I was an Indian only in dress, and 
 manner of life ; and, having preserved the belief and 
 feeling of a Christian, my heart was oppressed at tho 
 recital. I consequently suffered the Indian to urge 
 his horse to its full speed, and hurry along. 
 
 " Yet another human victim! I thought; more 
 blood! and why? Because this unlucky hunter has 
 set his traps on this side of the river instead of on the 
 other. If I had been in the village at the time of the 
 expedition, I would have accompanied it, and might, 
 perhaps, have prevented the bloody conflict, which now 
 calls in their minds for this cruel retaliation. I know 
 the law of the prairies, an eye for an eye, a tooth 
 for a tooth / and the slain warriors now reclaim, as 
 an expiatory sacrifice, the death of him who killed 
 them while defending his own life. 
 
 " Thus reflecting, and leaving my horse to his own 
 pace, I at length reached the village. I heard the in 
 fernal music of the scalping-dance, the vociferations of 
 women and children, the barking of dogs, and smelt 
 the smoke of the kindling-wood at the fatal stake. 
 
 " My horse stopped by a wigwam which stood near 
 the Great Square, in the middle of which arose the 
 stake, already surrounded with the leaping and flashing 
 flames. 
 
180 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " I turned my eye towards the victim. ... A cloud 
 passed before my sight, the blood rushed to my tem 
 ples. Great God! what had I seen! Lewis, Lewis, 
 the friend whom I remembered, and whom I mourned, 
 Lewis, the friend and brother of my prairie-life, was 
 about to perish by an atrociously cruel death ! 
 
 "Not a moment was left me for reflection. Action 
 must be immediate. Seizing my tomahawk, I leaped 
 from my horse, and rushed to the stake, hurling aside 
 and overturning every thing that came in my way. 
 Pushing aside the kindling brush, with a stroke of my 
 knife I cut the cords which bound Lewis, and gave 
 him a hatchet, which I snatched from the ground. 
 Then, turning to the stupefied crowd, I cried, 
 
 " Wretches! this is my brother. If you wish for 
 nis life, you must first take mine. 
 
 " My movement was so sudden and unexpected, that 
 no one had opposed it; and we were ready for a 
 desperate defence, before a single warrior could ad 
 vance. 
 
 "The Aricaras knew that I was afraid of no danger. 
 Lewis had already given them sufficient proof of his 
 intrepid bravery. They had, therefore, before them 
 two adversaries, ready to die, but not unavenged. 
 
 " For a moment, they remained silent, in hesitation ; 
 then, seizing their weapons, they rushed upon us, utte^ 
 ing wild cries of rage. 
 
EXCURSIONS. A PRISONER. 181 
 
 "I pressed Lewis by the hand, and then we pre 
 pared for the fight. 
 
 "At this moment the Great Eagle advanced, and, 
 stretching out his tomahawk, signified his wish to 
 speak. 
 
 " Silence was at once obtained. 
 
 "Approaching a few steps, and addressing me, he 
 said, 
 
 " Why does my young pale brother wish to oppose 
 the just vengeance of his brethren? Does he not 
 know that the white hunter has shed the blood of the 
 Aricaras, and that three of our most illustrious war 
 riors have gone to join our fathers, in the land of the 
 Great Spirit? Let him cease, then, to oppose our jus 
 tice, or our anger will fall upon him also. 
 
 " Let the powerful chief who is before me permit 
 me to speak, I replied ; c and let him promise to hear 
 me to the end. He will see that his brother is still 
 worthy of his friendship and that of the men of his 
 tribe. 
 
 "The Great Eagle made the promise which I re 
 quired, and I commenced. 
 
 "I first recalled my entrance into the tribe, the part 
 which I had taken in their exploits, the honors which 
 \hey had showered upon me in recompense for my ser 
 vices, and the care which I had bestowed upon their 
 Cornell and children. Then, pleading the cause of 
 
182 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 Lewis, I narrated how he had received me when I was 
 about to die of hunger and misery, the days in the 
 prairie and the forest which we had spent together, 
 the dangers we had shared, and our struggle with the 
 Blackfeet (who are enemies of the Aricaras also) ; a 
 struggle in which I had believed Lewis to have lost 
 his life, and which had been the cause of my arrival in 
 the tribe. 
 
 " You reproach him, I continued, with having shed 
 the blood of your brothers. Did he come to shed 
 your blood, or to burn your wigwams ? Did he try to 
 carry off your women and your children? Did ho 
 steal your horses? No. lie defended himself; and, 
 when you attacked him, he was peaceably pursuing his 
 occupation. Are not the prairies large enough for us 
 all to live in ? Has not the Great Spirit created means 
 enougli for nil men to have sufficient without trouble ? 
 Thousands of buffaloes eat the grass of the plains, elks 
 and antelopes abound in immense herds, beavers in 
 every stream, and pigeons obscure the heavens with 
 their numbers; yet you refuse a man the right to 
 take his share of the benefits provided for all by the 
 great Creator. Why do you not wish to possess for 
 yourselves alone the driving wind and the swiftly 
 flowing waters, the lightnings which divide the hea 
 vens, and the storm which rolls to the Rocky Moun 
 tains ? Fear, lest the Great Mauitou punish yoi *; 
 
EXCURSIONS. A PRISONER. 183 
 
 cruelty, and withdraw the protection which you have 
 enjoyed for two years ! 
 
 " My brother knows, said the Great Eagle, blood 
 requires blood. 
 
 Blood that is shed can be bought back, I replied. 
 4 The hunter of the prairies is rich ; he has arms and 
 powder and furs; he will load with presents the great 
 chiefs and the widows of the warriors. 
 
 " I saw signs of hesitation in the faces of the In 
 dians. They looked at one another, and consulted in 
 a low voice. 
 
 " The women, who approached, had forgotten their 
 animosity. But every thing was yet at stake, and a 
 word might lose us (for we could not hope to come 
 alive out of such an unequal combat), when the Great 
 Eagle placed his tomahawk on the ground, and said, 
 4 If the chiefs and warriors consent, I agree to the con 
 ditions of my brother. The pale-face shall be saved. 
 Two Indians at once stepped forward from the circle. 
 They were the Piercing Eye and the Fox. 
 
 "I had cured the wife of the first of a fever which 
 was wasting her life, and the child of the other from 
 the eifects of poison. 
 
 " Our white brother has spoken well, said one; let 
 his proposition be accepted. The other said the same; 
 and all the rest very soon expressed a similar opinion. 
 There was a little murmuring, but the danger was 
 
184 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 over; and I thanked God from the bottom of my heart 
 for the courage and the eloquence which lie had given 
 me at this supreme moment. 
 
 "The Great Eagle and all the braves came to press 
 our hands ; arid it was agreed, that, in a few days, 
 Lewis. I, and some twenty warriors, should go to one 
 of the caches of Lewis, which contained the presents 
 lie was to make in the tribe." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HISTORY OF LEWIS. THE FIRE. HEROIC ACT. 
 
 " I LED my friend into my hut, and there we gave 
 expression to our mutual friendship, which had in the 
 last lumi jyif possible, become still closer than it was 
 before. 
 
 u Lewis first wished to know by what series of events 
 I found myself so well installed among the Aricaras. 
 I hastened to satisfy him, and recounted in detail my 
 singular history. 
 
 " After this was terminated, I insisted upon knowing 
 his also; and he proceeded to recount it to me in the 
 following terms: 
 
 " Y"ou know, my dear William, that, at the very 
 moment the Blackfeet surrounded our canoe, I had de 
 cided to push off into the current; but several Indians 
 leaped into the boat. One of them threw himself to 
 wards me, with his tomahawk raised; but my hatchet 
 
 185 
 
180 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 was in my hand, and, to give more strength to my blow 
 I leaned back. Just then my foot slipped, and I lost 
 my balance. As the Indian s arm was lifted to bury 
 his hatchet in my brain, I received an arrow in my 
 right shoulder, and fell into the water. I heard your 
 shout as you came to my assistance while I was 
 sinking in the river. I got entangled in the grass at 
 the bottom of the stream, and felt myself suffocating 
 in it. Indeed, it was by an almost incredible effort that 
 I succeeded in reaching the surface. My wound had 
 disabled one hand, so that I was able to swim only with 
 difficulty. I tried to rejoin you to save you, or share 
 your fate ; but the stream was rapid, and carried me so 
 far, that, when I reached the shore and returned to the 
 place of the.fight, all was over. I was without weap 
 ons, and my shoulder pained me terribly; though the 
 wound was not dangerous, and healed rapidly. I 
 passed the night in a tree, and the next day I followed 
 the tracks of your captors. Noticing the footprints 
 of two Indians, I saw that they were deeper impressed 
 than the others ; whence I concluded that they were 
 carrying a load. You might not be dead, then, but 
 were, perhaps, severely wounded. This afflicted my 
 heart. Farther on I found your own footprints, light 
 and regular; and my mind was consequently relieved. 
 Reaching the neighborhood of the camp just after you, 
 I was seeking an entrance, when I was obliged to escape 
 
HISTORY OF LEWIS, ETC. 187 
 
 quickly. An Indian whom I did not recognize, but who, 
 you have informed me, was the Jaguar saved by UP 
 from the bear, was examining the environs. When 1 
 was able to return unseen, I found the tribe in a state 
 of excitement, and guessed that something extraordi 
 nary had happened. I awaited, and two days after 
 I found your tracks near a cotton-grove, close to the 
 river; for I was only al)le to search for them when the 
 Indians were not visible. These tracks were crossed in 
 every direction, and mingled with those of the Indians. 
 These were the indications of your flight. But how 
 should I rejoin you? Did you swim across the river? 
 or did you follow the current? After spending a 
 whole week examining bushes, trees, leavesfthe ground, 
 there appeared no trace. With a broken heart, I gave 
 up the search, called upon Heaven to protect you, and 
 sadly took my way to the cache where we had been to- 
 Aether. I took thence all that I needed to re-commence 
 
 & 
 
 my business as a trapper ; and since that time I have 
 traversed prairie and wood, often thinking of you, 
 whose friendship had been so precious to me, and 
 whose devotion had been so often manifested. 
 
 "Such, my dear William, is the recital of my life 
 since we separated; and I sincerely trust that we shall 
 not be parted again. 
 
 "1 pressed my friend s hand affectionately, and, after 
 cur curiosity was thus satisfied, we appeased the nut- 
 
188 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE!. 
 
 ural hunger, which we had a while forgotten, and then 
 sought the repose which we both needed after so fierce 
 an excitement. 
 
 "The next clay we made our preparations to set out 
 for the cache of Lewis. Twenty Aricaras were to ac 
 company us. I obtained permission from the Great 
 Eagle that they should be commanded by the Fox and 
 the Piercing Eye ; for I was not sorry to have with me 
 two influential and intrepid warriors who had proved 
 their gratitude to me by interfering the first to save 
 Lewis from the stake. We had been two days on the 
 way, when our horses showed visible signs of trepida 
 tion and disquietude. The wind was violent, and the 
 air became filled with a dark and penetrating vapor, 
 which affected our eyes. 
 
 "The Fox advanced quickly to a small eminence, 
 looked in the direction of the wind, and returned a.s 
 hastily as he could. 
 
 " 4 The prairie is on fire! was all that he said. 
 " We urged our horses to a gallop at this critical 
 announcement. 
 
 "On our left, as far as we could see, was a line of 
 sharp, impassable rocks, extending to one of the tribu 
 tary streams of the Missouri. 
 
 "On our right was the immense plain, over which 
 the flames spread almost as rapidly as the wind which 
 swept them along. Behind us, perhaps, the flames also 
 
HISTORY OF LEWIS, ETC. 189 
 
 would present their impenetrable barrier. There was 
 but one chance, to follow the line of the rocks to 
 the river at our utmost speed. 
 
 " The smoke soon enveloped us on every side. The 
 roar of the advancing flames was joined with the occa 
 sional crash of falling trees and crackling timber. The 
 heated sap forced its way through the wood, with 
 explosions like shells in battle. 
 
 " Hundreds of animals, of every species, fled on all 
 sides, pushing and crowding on each other, the ante 
 lope by the side of the jaguar, the buffalo and the wolf, 
 prairie-dogs and squirrels, all forgetful of their de 
 structive instincts and enmities in the midst of their 
 wild race for life. 
 
 " In front of the curtain of fire, preceding it but a 
 few yards, was an immense flock of birds of prey, swift 
 in flight, and pouncing every few minutes upon some 
 luckless reptile or animal. 
 
 " It was a fearful sijjrht. Our horses almost seemed 
 
 O 
 
 to annihilate space. Bent over their necks, we could 
 scarcely breathe in the burning atmosphere ; yet, not 
 withstanding the rapidity of our course, we saw the 
 flame approaching closer and closer to lap us in its 
 mortal embrace. 
 
 "Suddenly the horse of the Fox reaied, uttered a 
 cry of terror, and fell, burying his rider beneath hia 
 fallen body. 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 "His hoof had trodden upon a large serpent; and 
 the furious reptile, neglectful of his own danger, had 
 fastened on to the leg of the animal, and was biting 
 him cruelly. 
 
 " Lewis saw the peril which threatened our compan 
 ion. and by a powerful effort stopped his own horse. 
 Fly, said he, I will save him! 
 
 "He wheeled his horse towards the Indian; but the 
 animal refused to advance. At this moment, our brave 
 friend drove the blade of his knife into it; and the 
 poor beast, overcome with pain, sprang towards the 
 spot where the flames had almost seized the Fox, who 
 was in vain struggling to free himself from his horse. 
 With a desperate effort, Lewis drew him from the sad 
 dle, and, lifting him upon his own horse, turned, and 
 gave the horse rein. 
 
 " The wind was not swifter than the affrighted ani 
 mal, which passed us like an arrow; and in a few mo 
 ments we saw them disappear from the top of the rocks* 
 into the water. We also soon reached the rocks. It 
 was time that we did so ; for the fire almost surrounded 
 
 is. 
 
 "We were twenty-five feet above the river; but we 
 dared not hesitate. Even at the risk of death, we must 
 try to preserve our lives. In we went, and in a few 
 moments climbed the opposite bank in safety. 
 
 In front of us, a curtain of smoke and flame reached 
 
HISTORY OF LEWIS, ETC. 191 
 
 1,0 the limits of the horizon. It was, however, power 
 less against us, because of the protecting waters. We 
 nounted, and found all of our party safe. Five noble 
 horses, however, were dead, either in striking the water, 
 or from the apoplexy induced by immersion into the 
 cold stream after so long and rapid a course. 
 
 " We were all seated in silence, when the Fox, rising, 
 approached Lewis, and held out his hand with a perfect 
 air of majesty. 
 
 " 4 The great hunter of the prairies has saved the lift- 
 of a chief of the Aricaras, said he. Let him be my 
 brother, and rest his head in peace beneath my wig 
 wam. 
 
 " Lewis rose, and replied with a vigorous shake of 
 the hand offered by the Fox. 
 
 " May it be as my brother wishes! said he. Heaven, 
 earth, water, and fire will be powerless to oppose when 
 my brother needs the assistance of my arm. 
 
 " Then these two generous men embraced, exchanged 
 their calumet, and our circle became once mere silent 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE CANADIAN TRADERS. SEPARATION. 
 
 "AFTER resting ourselves, and giving our horses a 
 chance to recruit their strength, we ascended the river, 
 and, crossing farther up, we reached Lewis s cache 
 without difficulty. 
 
 " He emptied it entirely, offered a magnificent rifle to 
 his new friend, hatchets and knives to the other Indians; 
 and, putting the rest of his merchandise on the horses, 
 he gave the signal for departure, and we set out on our 
 return. 
 
 "We were obliged to make a long circuit to avoid 
 the fire, which must have spread to a great distance ; 
 and directed our course eastward. 
 
 " We crossed a-plain, however, which had been swept 
 by the flames The ground was still warm. Half- 
 roasted animals, which the vultures were rapidly de 
 vouring, lay here and there. Enormous trees, reduced 
 
 13 193 
 
104 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 to charcoal, encumbered our way; and yet vegetation 
 is so powerful there, that *e could almost already dis 
 tinguish the new grass beo-:nr>mg to sprout through the 
 ashes. 
 
 "A rain-storm, or even heavy devs, with a week of 
 mild temperature such as we then enjoyed, and a travel 
 ler would not suspect that a terrible conflagration had 
 swept the earth, and overspread it, some seven days 
 earlier, with ruin. 
 
 "Our arrival in camp was a signal for enjoyment. 
 The Fox had preceded us, and Lewis was received as 
 the brother of a great chief deserved to be. The pres 
 ents which he made to each one secured for him the 
 sympathies of the whole tribe. 
 
 " I had induced Lewis to promise to accompany me, 
 when we should leave the Aricaras, to seek some white 
 settlement. But we could not leave our new friuidr 
 so quickly. It was necessary to await the arrival or 
 the fur-merchants ; and it was but a short time since 
 the hatchet had been buried between the whites and the 
 tribes bordering on the Missouri and Mississippi. 
 
 "We re-commenced our hunting expeditions, not 
 only for our food, but to collect a quantity of skins and 
 furs with which to pay our passage on some vessel; 
 and, during the months which we passed with the In 
 dians, we succeeded in obtaining quite a large propor 
 tion of valuable peltry. 
 
THE CANADIAN TRADERS. 195 
 
 u At last the day arrived which I had so long and s 
 impatiently awaited. 
 
 " I saw the Canadian traders coining down the river 
 on long barges which they used as stores. They came 
 to buy horses and furs in exchange for arms, powder, 
 stuffs, and a crowd of gew-gaws which are always so 
 enticing for the Indians. 
 
 " I proposed to pay our passage in furs, which they 
 willingly accepted. To my inquiry where they were 
 going, they told me that their intention was to go to 
 St. Louis, which is the first American station for the 
 fur-traders. 
 
 " St. Louis being situated on the right of the Missis 
 sippi, a short distance below its confluence with the 
 Missouri, this river had to be followed to reach our 
 destination. 
 
 " I went immediately to announce my determination 
 to the Great Eagle, pointing out the motives which 
 obliged Lewis and myself to leave the tribe which had 
 afforded us such a generous and friendly hospitality. I 
 expressed in warm terms my deep regret, but ended by 
 saying that my decision was irrevocable. 
 
 "After hearing me in silence, the Great Eagle, in 
 spite of his habitual reserve, expressed very warmly his 
 regret at being deprived of such friends as we were, 
 more especially of me, whom he regarded as his 
 brother. At the same time, he had too much delicacy 
 
19b THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 to try to prevent me, understanding perfectly, he said, 
 my natural desire to revisit the land of my -fathers. 
 
 " A great council was called to announce to the war 
 riors of the tribe our approaching departure. The news 
 was received with silence and regret ; but no objection 
 was raised. 
 
 " After a pause, an old man arose, and, advancing to 
 the middle of the circle, said that 4 the Manitou had 
 sent a warrior and a sage among them, but that now he 
 needed them for his other children, and that his will 
 must be accomplished. 
 
 " He then sat down, and we re-commenced to smoke. 
 In a few minutes, the same old man shook the ashes out 
 of his pipe, wrapped himself up with solemn majesty 
 in his blanket, and left the wigwam. Each Indian did 
 the same, and Lewis and I were soon alone. 
 
 " Rising also, I returned to my own wigwam, which 
 was soon filled with furs, feathers, bows, arrows, lances, 
 &c., which the good Aricaras offered me in remem 
 brance. This new proof of sympathy affected me 
 deeply. 
 
 "On the day of our departure, I was still more deeply 
 impressed when the whole tribe, without arms, and 
 grief written on every countenance, came to accompany 
 us to the river bank. 
 
 " They ranged themselves in a circle, and the Great 
 Eagle spoke in their richly figurative style. 
 
THE CANADIAN TRADERS. 197 
 
 "He commenced by talking of the great fame of his 
 nation, of their success in war and in hunting, then, by 
 a sudden transition, he alluded to me. He said that I 
 had not come to carry off their women, nor the game 
 of their prairies ; but that, on the contrary, I had been 
 sent by the Great Spirit for the glory and the happiness 
 of his people ; that I left them to return to those who 
 had watched over my early years; that I would say to 
 all pale faces how noble and brave were the Aricaras, 
 grateful and true to their friends, and terrible to their 
 enemies; that, if the will of the Great Manitou shouM 
 bring me back, I should be received as a brother. He 
 associated Lewis in all the- < I.i.i.l remarks, and assured 
 him of his kind remembrance. 
 
 ;c The ceremony of bidding farewell was imposing, 
 ^ach warrior came to press our hands and those of the 
 traders. 
 
 "When, however, the Fox parted from Lewis, he 
 - showed more evidences of real emotion than I had ever 
 previously seen betrayed by any Indian. The corner 
 of his eyes, and his under lip, quivered with the 
 enforced control which he placed upon himself. He 
 endeavored to speak ; but he felt that his voice would 
 show how deeply he was troubled. He, therefore, took 
 Lewis s right hand, and placed it upon the crown of his 
 head; thus intimating that he considered himself bound 
 to the trapper for life, after which he hurried away, and 
 retired into his wisjwam. 
 
108 TniC PRATRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " Lewis afterwards told me that he himself was as 
 much surprised as I had been at this unusual display 
 of feeling, and could scarcely account for it unless, 
 indeed, the Aricara had white blood in his veins. This 
 indeed was a supposition which had previously struck 
 me, although never so forcibly. On subsequent inquiry, 
 I found that this idea was correct. His father had 
 married a white squaw who had been taken captive by 
 the Sioux when quite a child. The Sioux village in 
 which she had grown up to be a marriageable maiden 
 having been sacked and destroyed by a party of Ari 
 caras under the leadership of Hawk Eye, the father of 
 the Fox, she was saved and carried off by him. The 
 result was, that she entered his wigwam; this being the 
 Indian phrase to signify that she afterwards became his 
 wife. This, however, was learnt by me on my rer.t 
 visit to the tribe. 
 
 " When we embarked in the boats, I, being the last 
 to leave the shore, waved my shield to the Aricaras in 
 token of adieu; and they responded with their peculiar 
 shout. 
 
 "Then the boats were pushed from the shore. The 
 current bore us rapidly away, and the village and its 
 inhabitants soon receded from sight. I sat down, ami 
 hid my face in my 1 -jids; for I was sad at heart, an- 1 
 could not speak. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ARRIVAL AT ST. LOUIS. THE BULWER FAMILY 
 
 "THE water was high, and the canoes flew along tha 
 stream like a bird; so that, notwithstanding the nu 
 merous windings of the river, we made the trip in less 
 than half the time which would have been required by 
 land. The journey was marred by no accident or un 
 toward event. 
 
 "During the passage, I made the acquaintance of ? 
 Mr. Bulwer, the director of a great fur-trading com 
 pany at St. Louis. To him I had related my adven 
 tures, and he questioned me as to my plans for the 
 future. I replied, that my intention was to return to 
 my country as soon as a favorable opportunity should 
 offer. But he immediately answered that I \vas wrong. 
 
 " For, said he, what will you do in Germany? 
 You have no trade, and at twenty years of age you will 
 become a charge to the baron. You hsivo no taste foi 
 
 199 
 
-00 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 a military career, nor for the s(k*. What then will you 
 do? You will one day regret your lost time. Your 
 vocation calls you to an adventurous life. Believe me: 
 follow it. You have lived three years with the Ari- 
 oaras. You know not only their language, but you 
 have learned enough of that of the Sioux and Paw 
 nees to be able to enter into commerce with them. 
 You are accustomed to the life and privations of the 
 redskins, which gives you a great advantage over 
 other traders, even over the Canadians. You will al 
 ways be welcome in the tribe which so long counted 
 you as one of its best warriors; and the advantage to 
 be derived from that will be very great for your fur- 
 trade. Believe my experience : work. Never expect 
 from others the living which you can procure for your 
 self. I offer you a post in my company. There is no 
 necessity for being in a hurry to give me an answer. 
 Think it over. Reflect seriously upon the advice which 
 I have volunteered to you, and if, in one week from 
 this time, your intention should remain settled to re 
 turn to Germany, I will do every thing in my power to 
 find a chance for you to get a passage home. 
 
 "With these words Mr. Bulwer left me; and I saw 
 that he did not wish to carry the conversation any 
 further at this time. Nor, indeed, did he once again 
 allude to it during the remainder of our journey to S>* 
 Louis. 
 
ARRIVAL AT FIT. LOUTS. 
 
 201 
 
 ; <lis advice caused me much serious reflection. It 
 Agreed exactly with all that I had been taught from 
 my earliest years. The good old soldier, to whom, in 
 all probability, I owed my existence, who had be 
 stowed upon me the care and solicitude the most ten 
 der parent may lavish upon his child, until nis last 
 hour, had always exhorted me to work for myself, ns 
 every honest man should do. In later years, the baron 
 had given me the same advice ; and now, in a strange 
 land, far from my protectors, I was happy enough to 
 meet with a man of standing in the world, who might 
 eecm as ?.f sent to me by God to keep my feet from 
 swerving from the straight path of duty, and assist me 
 in carving out my own way by straightforward toil 
 and honest courage. 
 
 "My resolution was, accordingly, soon taken. I 
 went to him on the following day to announce that 
 I accepted his offer. 
 
 " Pressing my hand warmly, he expressed his own 
 satisfaction, as well as praised my resolution, and in 
 stalled me, on my arrival at St. Louis, at once in his 
 house. Here I was treated, both by himself and his 
 excellent wife, more as a near relative than as a stran 
 ger. This was, in all probability, due to my youth , 
 but, whether so or not, I am happy to say that I never 
 forfeited their kindness by ingratitude or self-will. 
 My first necessity was, of course, in dressing my- 
 
202 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 self like the rest of those around me ; for my clothing, 
 which was a mixture of the Indian and trapper style 
 of dress, was scarcely fitted for one who stood in a 
 city, which, although then upon the outskirts of civili 
 sation, possessed a large and wealthy population. In 
 this Mr. Bulwer very kindly assisted me. I had pro 
 posed turning a portion of my furs at once into money, 
 lie, however, would not hear of this, but advised ir.e 
 to wait until some of the Southern dealers in skins 
 should visit the place. To enable me to do this, he 
 advanced me a sum more than sufficient to serve my 
 purposes; and, in a few days, I was gratified by the 
 warm and motherly compliments which Mrs. Bulwer 
 bestowed upon the change in my personal appearance. 
 
 "However, we are never altogether contented: and 
 I began to think much of Lewis. 
 
 "We had shared so much of good and bad fortune 
 together, that it caused me much sorrow to reflect 
 upon our possible separation. It appeared to me al 
 most impossible that I could endure to be placed in a 
 situation entirely separated from the ways and means 
 of life of my old friend. Consequently, one day I 
 [ducked up sufficient courage to request Mr. Bulwer to 
 be good enough to employ my friend also, if he had 
 any opportunity at his disposal of ooing so, 
 
 "The worthy merchant, who had from the very first 
 seen the excellent qualities of the honest trappv iad 
 
ARRIVAL AT ST. LOUTS. 
 
 judged correctly how worthy he was of esteem and 
 confidence, told me that he had already considered the 
 possibility of such a request upon my part, and that 
 lie had (Decided upon gratifying it; not merely upon 
 the score of pleasing me, but because he was certain 
 that, in many respects, Lewis would be invaluable to 
 him. 
 
 "Accordingly, but a few days had passed when he sent 
 for Lewis, and, telling him that the account which I 
 had given of my adventures in his company had im 
 pressed himself with a high opinion of his ability for a 
 life on the frontier, offered him a post as manager on 
 the Upper Mississippi, which then chanced to be va 
 cant. 
 
 "This proposition was accepted with very great 
 pleasure by my friend. The post had a double advan 
 tage in his eyes. It was not too far from St. Louis for 
 freyjent intercourse with me, while, being on the limits 
 ol the Indian lands, and close to the prairies, it would 
 allow him occasionally to gratify his love of hunting. 
 
 "It was some two months after my installation in 
 Mr. Bulwer s family, that a vessel arrived at St. Louis 
 from New Orleans, to purchase furs. My patron in 
 troduced me to the captain, and I profited by this op 
 portunity to sell very advantageously those which the 
 Indians had given me ; in which business I was not 
 slightly indebted to the tact and knowledge of Mr 
 Bulwer. 
 
204 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 "As the captain proposed sailing from New Orleans 
 to New York, I intrusted him with letters for the 
 baron and Stanislas. In these, I announced my deter 
 mination not to think of returning to Europe until my 
 fortune should be ample enough to secure future com 
 fort. I renewed the expressions of my sentiments of 
 filial gratitude to the baron, and love for Stanislas. To 
 the latter, I sent one of the splendid horses which the 
 Aricaras had given me, as well as the complete equip 
 ment of a redskin. Nor did I forget the little Bertha, 
 of whom I then thought merely as a child. To her, i 
 addressed a packing-case, filled with some of my finest 
 furs, feathers, shells, and other things, which were 
 chiefly valuable as rare curiosities, at that period, in 
 Germany. 
 
 " I was now completely ready to commence the life 
 to which Mr. Bulwer had recommended me to devote 
 myself. However, as he informed me, it was not 
 the season in which a successful journey could be 
 made. I therefore occupied myself almost entirely 
 in reading and study." 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 NEWS FEOM GERMANY. VISIT TO THJ5 UUCARA8. 
 
 A BUFFALO-HUNT. 
 
 " IT was some seven or eight months after, that I had 
 the happiness of receiving letters from the place which 
 I still regarded as my home. In the one which had 
 been written by the baron, he expressed his satisfac 
 tion at my resolution, and warmly praised my courage, 
 and determination to render myself independent. * It 
 is, he wrote, the only way to deserve, and therefore 
 to insure, success in life. Nor will you fail, if you 
 walk uprightly, and put your entire trust in that Provi 
 dence which has hitherto preserved you through so 
 many dangers and perils. As for Stanislas, he also 
 praised my determination, envying my happiness in 
 seeing so many curious things. He thanked rne for 
 my presents, as did also Bertha, he begged to as- 
 lure rae ; concluding by assuring me that the horse I 
 
03 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 had sent- him had come to hand in perfect safety, and 
 was now a subject of admiration for the whole regi 
 ment in which he bore a commission. Indeed, he told 
 me that the son of the Elector of Hesse-Darmstadt 
 had offered him fifteen hundred florins for it, which, 
 of course, my dear William, I declined taking. 
 
 "About three months later, for the first time, I re 
 visited the Aricaras. 
 
 " I must honestly say, thrat it was not without deep 
 emotion that I again entered the village of the tribe 
 in which I had been admitted as a brother. 
 
 " Nor did the Aricaras themselves, in spite of the 
 Indian habit of generally controlling the external exhi 
 bition of their feelings, entirely suppress their joy at 
 again seeing me. The Great Eagle himself apparently 
 laid aside the usual Indian phlegm, which I had so re 
 peatedly noticed in his whole bearing and manner, and 
 embraced me, as though I had been an only and be 
 loved son brought back to him from death. 
 
 "Moreover, immediately after they had received me, 
 I was escorted in triumph to my ancient hut. 
 
 "This, through a delicacy of sentiment which is but 
 rarely found among civilized people, had been unin 
 habited since my departure, although kept scrupulously 
 in good order; the Aricaras not desiring that any 
 one but myself should dwell within it. 
 
 " I remained amongst them for nearly a month. 
 
NEWS FROM GERMANY, ETC. 207 
 
 This was not merely on business. The matters connect 
 ed with that portion of my visit were soon terminated. 
 The Aricaras, indeed, were so delighted with again 
 seeing me, that they let me have, without any objec 
 tion, all the furs and horses which I needed, upon iny 
 own terms ; which, it is scarcely necessary to say, were 
 fair and even liberal. Indeed, in more than one in 
 stance, they wished to force upon me the horses I 
 desired, as gifts. This is mentioned by me for the 
 purpose of showing that the red man is by no means 
 so mercenary as the Indian traders commonly paint 
 him. On the contrary, where his affections are awak 
 ened, he not infrequently exhibits a liberality and no 
 bility of character which might put his white brother 
 to the blush. 
 
 "After my business was, however, concluded, the 
 rhiefs and principal men of the tribe designed to give 
 me the pleasure of a great buffalo-hunt. This time, it 
 was decided that they should employ the lasso. 
 
 "On. a pleasant morning, at the commencement of 
 May, we accordingly set out, mounted on the best 
 horses of the tribe, and numbering in our party every 
 chief and warrior of any note that could be found 
 among the Aricaras. After travelling for three days, 
 we at last reached the borders of an immense prairie, 
 and saw almost directly before us a large herd of buf 
 faloes. These animals were feeding, and, as* heedless 
 
208 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 as ever, looked quietly at us, without being in the least 
 disturbed by our approach. 
 
 " The Great Eagle commanded a halt, and divided 
 his warriors into two parties, one of which he kept with 
 himself. The other had been, with true Indian polite 
 ness, offered to me; but, on my declining to take 
 charge of it, which had evidently been expected, was 
 assigned to the Fox. This party immediately galloped 
 off to flank the herd, and then our party gradually 
 closed in upon them. 
 
 " When we had arrived pretty near them, the buffa 
 loes began to seem uneasy; and an antelope, which 
 started from their midst at full speed, gave the alarm 
 to them. They tossed their heads, uttering sounds like 
 low and muttering thunder. Then they also started. 
 The very earth seemed to shake beneath their tread. 
 It was a grand thing to one unaccustomed to it, to be 
 hold such a throng of wild animals in hurried flight. 
 
 " We had, however, participated in the sport a hun 
 dred times, and were only stirred to new ardor by it. 
 Preparing the lasso above our heads, we pushed our 
 horses to a gallop. 
 
 " As often as we came near to a fine animal, the 
 lasso was sent, with its balls whistling through the air, 
 by the hand of the hunter. It rolled itself around the 
 horns or legs of the animal. The poor brute, affrighted 
 Sy the entanglement to which it was unaccustomed, in 
 
NEWS FROM GERMANY^ ETC. 20S 
 
 vain essayed to free itself. The thongs ouiy drew 
 themselves tighter and more closely around it. In its 
 fright or its rage, it would bellow loudly, and quicken 
 its wild flight; but as it fled the thongs tightened, 
 until at length it rolled helplessly upon the earth, 
 where the lance or the tomahawk soon despatched it. 
 
 This sport requires great coolness and address, and 
 even, more especially, great skill. The reason of this 
 is that the buffaloes, rendered furious by the sight of 
 blood, and maddened by the bellowing of their lassoed 
 and wounded companions, run in every direction. 
 
 " Woe, then, to the hunter who chances to find him 
 self in their infuriated path. 
 
 "Himself and his horse are quickly thrown to the 
 earth by the fierce rush of the savage brute, when they 
 are either ripped up by its keen horns, or crushed be 
 neath its heavy feet. It is, indeed, seldom that one or 
 both of them are not grievously wounded; and, in 
 many cases, the hapless Indian is borne home by his 
 kinsmen or companions, either dead or dying. 
 
 "We, however, had this day no accident to deplore, 
 and it, closed as gayly and joyously as it had com 
 menced; our party having killed eight buffaloes, and 
 that led by the Fox having slaughtered eleven, or 
 nineteen in all. 
 
 " After skinning and cutting up three of the dead 
 animals, fireplaces, or rather cooking-holes, were.pre- 
 
 14 
 
-10 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 pared in ;i manner, which, I believe, is peculiar to the 
 Aricaras alone of the Indian tribes. 
 
 " A deep hole was excavated in the earth, in which 
 a fire was kindled, prepared with dried brandies, 
 leaves, and turf. Upon this burning or smouldering 
 mass, the joint "of buffalo-beef was placed. This was 
 again covered with dry branches and turf, which slowly 
 ignite from the stealthy fire below; and, in about 
 twenty minutes, the joint is broiled, as its Indian cook 
 conceives, fit for his own palate. The cinder is then 
 removed from above it. Having been taken from the 
 hole, its exterior and blackened portion is scraped off. 
 Supposing that the hunter may not be averse to meat 
 which will be somewhat underdone, he c:m then sit 
 down to a dinner which, hastily as it may have been 
 cooked, has seldom if ever been rivalled. 
 
 "Upon finishing our meal, we threw ourselves upon 
 the earth, and slept soundly, guards having been 
 posted by the Great Eagle around the spot to secure 
 our slumbers from the possible intrusion of enemies." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MY PROPOSED VISIT TO NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 "!T was but a few days after my return from the 
 hunting-grounds to the village of the Aricaras, th:it I, 
 with the whole of my party, bade them farewell. We 
 then departed for our homes, or rather I did to the 
 temporary home which I now had with Mr. Bulwer in 
 the Great West, as the Americans near the Atlantic 
 were then, and are now, as I understand, accustomed 
 to call the whole of that portion of their country which 
 then lay upon the very verge of civilization. 
 
 " On my arrival at St. Louis, I was received by him- 
 sclf and his good wife with open arms, indeed, I was 
 tieated more by them as a son than as a stranger, and, 
 when I displayed to Mr. Bulwer the results of my visit 
 to my Indian friends, he expressed himself more than 
 pleased. 
 
 "He informed me that I had more than justified the 
 
 211 
 
212 THE PRAIRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 opinion which he had entertained of my sagacity, and 
 said, that if he had previously doubted, in the slightest 
 degree, ray success, this doubt was now entirely re 
 moved. From one of the hunters who had accompa 
 nied me on my expedition, I heard that he affirmed my 
 furs to be both the most numerous and the most valua 
 ble which had been brought into St. Louis during many 
 seasons. This I knew that they must be. Seldom, 
 indeed, was it that the Indian trade was opened under 
 such good auspices as it had been by me. Nevertheless, 
 Mr. Bulwer s opinion was by so much the more agreea 
 ble as, fatherly though his conduct almost invariably 
 was, he was somewhat chary of eulogy in every in 
 stance that was in the remotest degree connected with 
 business. This was, of course, upon the principle which 
 is common to most mercantile men, whether they reside 
 in the United States, or in any oilier section of the 
 civilized world, I mean that indisposition to ackiunyl- 
 edge merit in the young, which is so universally share-. ! 
 by almost all mercantile men. 
 
 " His opinion, however, stimulated me to new exer 
 tion. This it did by setting before mine eyes more 
 visibly, that reward, which, by God s providence, I 
 might, not altogether unreasonably, hope to obtain. It 
 was for this reason that I prepared myself for a more 
 unremitting assiduity to the calling in which I hal a*i 
 his suggestion embarked. 
 
PROPOSED VISIT TO NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 " For more than four years, therefore, I continued to 
 visit the Aricaras towards the close of the hunting- 
 season. 
 
 " During this period, I began to acquire a considera 
 ble reputation in the fur-trade, while the horses which 
 I brought back with me upon each trip were to the full 
 as valuable to me, or even more valuable in proportion 
 to their number. 
 
 " It must be remembered that a large proportion of 
 each year was comparatively unoccupied. I had, 
 therefore, some seven months in which ray business by 
 no means weighed upon me, and after a time it struck 
 me forcibly, that excepting the period actually engaged 
 in my transit to and from my Indian friends, with my 
 annual sojourn amongst them, and some three weeks 
 about the period in the spring when the dealers in furs 
 visited St. Louis, my existence was comparatively 
 outness. 
 
 "Certainly I read, and read a good deal. But it 
 must be remembered that I was still young, and that 
 my previous life had been a busy and adventurous one. 
 Consequently, I needed action. 
 
 " What necessity could there be, I inquired of my 
 self, for my transacting my affairs, on the disposal of my 
 yearly stock, with the agents who visited St. Louis . J 
 Why should I not repair myself to New Orleans or 
 New York, and examine the market? The more I 
 
214 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 thought over this, the more convinced did 1 become 
 that this was desirable. Should I do so, I knew that I 
 could obtain a more thorough knowledge of the value 
 of the articles which I had to dispose of, and might 
 very probably open to myself other channels wJiieli 
 might increase their value to me. 
 
 "This I suggested to Mr. Bulwer, when we word 
 seated in his parlor, one evening, alone. lie for some 
 time listened to my arguments in silence. 
 
 " At length, he inquired of me, what I proposed to 
 myself beyond the pleasure of the trip and the gratifi 
 cation of a love of excitement. 
 
 " My good sir, I replied, feeling somewhat annoyed 
 by the slighting manner in which his question had been 
 shaped/I propose to myself, in the first place, to escape 
 the gix or seven months of idleness which I now pass 
 in St. Louis. Even should I fail in improving the 
 market for our goods, I shall, at all events, increase my 
 knowledge of the world. 
 
 " That is very true. 
 
 " * If so, I continued, whether I acquire a better 
 pecuniary position or not, I shall most certainly bo 
 considerably benefitted. 
 
 "That may be doubted, was the grave response 
 made to me by Mr. Bulwer. 
 
 " How so? I asked, in a tone which, it may be j.r* 
 Binned, betrayed what I felt. 
 
rnoruSKD vihiT 10 KKW OIJLKANR. 
 
 - Do not be annoyed, William, he said. 
 not know you as well as I do, I should arhe 
 protest against such youth as yours is, so impubive and 
 fresh, running the risk of contain! nation in a lave- cr,y. 
 Small as New York and New Orleans then were, in 
 proportion to their present size, it must be rcmembere-l 
 that they were two of the largest cities on the Eorth- 
 American continent. 4 In New Orleans, indeed, tho 
 Creole population, with its French descent, from its an 
 cestry, and the enervating climate under which it lives, 
 has contracted a most pernicious laxity in its moral 
 life. I have myself lived amongst its inhabitants some 
 three years. As he said this, he sighed deeply. If 
 you are certain that you can endure temptation of every 
 kind, without yielding, obey your inclination. If not 
 my dear William, it would be far better for you to re 
 main among your friends, and trust your affairs in th< 
 hands of the regular factors who visit us. 
 
 As he concluded, he veiled his brow with his rigl- . 
 hand, and appeared to be lost in thought." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 COMMENCEMENT OP MR. BULWEU s STORY. 
 
 " FOR several moments I refrained from breaking the 
 silence, being occupied in reflecting upon that which 
 my good friend had said. It was now for a considera 
 ble time that I had known Mr. Bulwer as intimately as 
 it is possible for any very young man to know one who 
 in age has so many years the advantage of him ; yet 
 this was the first time that I had heard the name of 
 New Orleans cross his tongue in other than a purely 
 business connection. Let me frankly own it, my curi 
 osity was strongly awakened by the melancholy tone 
 in which he had spoken, as by well as the emphatic 
 words of condemnation that he had just employed. 
 
 "At length, I ventured, when sufficiently assured, to 
 ask him how long it might have been since he was 
 last in that city ? 
 
 " Some thirty-four years. 
 
 217 
 
218 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " And your recollections of it are then disagreeable, 
 sir ? I said in an inquiring tone. 
 
 " I will tell you how it was that I came to quit it 
 forever, he replied, with as sharp a manner and accent 
 as his kindly voice was capable of assuming; then 
 you can judge for yourself with how great a love [ 
 regard it. When he saw my look of pain at his 
 strangely changed tone, he extended his hand, and laid 
 it gently upon my arm. Forgive me, William, he 
 said softly, for my quick and abrupt manner. There 
 are some things which we can none of us think of 
 without pain. The three years of which I have spoken 
 contain the misery of my whole life. What wonder is 
 it that I am unable to recall them without having my 
 tongue sharpen, and my mouth parch, as I am speak- 
 
 ing! 
 
 " After a brief pause, he again resumed. 
 
 "As the night gradually stole upon us, both became 
 so deeply interested, he in telling, and I in listening 
 to, his strange tale, that neither of us took any note of 
 time. The lamp was unlit by which we were accus 
 tomed to sit ; and when it ended, save that the moon 
 had arisen, the darkness would have been complete. 
 
 " It would be well-nigh impossible for me to recall 
 the exact words in which the story of those three years 
 was given. 
 
 "Therefore it may perhaps be better, if I myself 
 
MR. BULWER S STORY. 219 
 
 should put it into shape, and give it a complete connec 
 tion. This, the more especially, as it was much broken 
 np by personal comments in its delivery. Indeed, 
 a portion of its conclusion was afterwards recounted to 
 me by Mrs. Bulwer, her husband having been too mod 
 est to give me the whole of the details, reflecting, as 
 they did, so much credit upon himself. 
 
 "At the time when Mr. Bulwer first visited what has 
 subsequently been named the Crescent City, he was a 
 comparative boy. His father was at that period a tol 
 erably thriving merchant in New York, in which city 
 he had resided for the preceding quarter of a century. 
 How he came to send his boy to the capital of the then 
 French province of Louisiana was in itself sufficiently 
 singular. A French Creole who had a sugar plantation 
 on the Mississippi, some dozen or more miles above 
 New Orleans, had, several years previously, by the 
 usual, or perhaps I ought only to say, by the too 
 frequent, improvidence of the planters of those times, 
 ruined himself. He subsequently died in New Orleans, 
 partly by intemperance, and partly from grief over the 
 destitution in which he had placed his wife and his 
 only son. Shortly aftef, his wife also died. It was 
 said at the time that she had fallen into a decline, con 
 sequent upon the change in her condition. It is at 
 least as probable from what Mr. Bulwer told me, tha 
 8he died of that grief, which we too commonly call a 
 
2 JO THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 broken heart, resulting upon the knowledge; but I 
 must not anticipate my story. 
 
 "At the time of his father s death, M. Eugene de 
 Lessaix was barely twenty-three. 
 
 " He was handsome, a good linguist, and indefatiga 
 ble in the pursuit of any thing, whether it was pleasure 
 or business, which he might undertake. A few days 
 subsequently to the burial of the deceased, he had a 
 long interview with his mother. What passed be 
 tween them was never known ; but some three weeks 
 afterwards he sailed for Rio Janeiro, with the avowed 
 intention of seeking his fortune. 
 
 "Through a Spanish banker in New Orleans, Madame 
 de Lessaix received, some six months later, a large 
 sum of money from him. This she declined to use, 
 and subsequently, scarcely more than a year after 
 wards, Eugene de Lessaix was the only one of hi? 
 family left alive. 
 
 " In some two years after this, he returned to New 
 Orleans, much bronzed, as a man might be who had 
 been roughing it on the pampas, or who had worked 
 before the r??ast. He was, however, or. at all events, 
 seemed to be so, a wealthy man. 
 
 ; <I-Ie entered into the tobacco and sugar business in 
 thst cijy. Like most of the Creole merchants of that 
 period, however, he by no means confined himself to 
 these r.taples. In his warerooms almost any thing 
 
MR. BULWEIt s STORY. 22i 
 
 that was an article of luxury or value might be met 
 
 with. 
 
 "It so happened that a vessel in which M. Lessaix 
 
 had visited, or said that he had visited, France, was 
 
 wrecked upon its return. 
 
 " He was the only person saved, having been picked 
 
 up, lashed to a broken spar, by The Mary Anne, a 
 
 brig bound to New York, when on its return from 
 
 Marseilles. This brig belonged to the parent of Mr. 
 
 Bulwer. 
 
 "It is more properly at this point that my good 
 
 friend s story really begins. 
 
 " Nothing could well be more natural, than, at his 
 arrival at New York, he should visit the gentleman by 
 whose crew he had been rescued from death. It may 
 not have been so necessarily natural, that he should 
 have, so rapidly as he did, become intimate with 
 him. But M. Lessaix was, to all appearance, an hon 
 orable, as he most decidedly was a highly cultivated 
 and engaging person. In consequence, there is really 
 little occasion for surprise. 
 
 "Apparently, M. Lessaix took a great fancy for my 
 friend, at that period little more than a boy. He was 
 then scarcely past his eighteenth year. In an even 
 shorter space of time than it had taken the Creole V> 
 acquire the friendship of the father, he became fV.r u-or J 
 intimate with the son. 
 
222 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " The Creole, as I have already said, was an excel 
 lent linguist. He spoke English, as Mr. Bulwer told 
 me, with remarkable purity and elegance. The boy 
 was at this time by his father s desire, studying; 
 French. Here was another reason to facilitate their 
 intimacy, and to induce the old man to promote it as 
 much as he possibly could. At this time also, the boy 
 was by no means so staid and tranquil as he had been 
 as a man, and, indeed, as I had always seen him. He 
 was, most undoubtedly, innocently free from all vicious 
 tendencies ; but he was sprightly, and fond of gayety. 
 There could necessarily be but little doubt, that when 
 he saw his own gayety and sprightliness reproduced by 
 an older man than himself, with a grace and ease of 
 manner to which he could present no pretension, as 
 well as with the superadded charm of perfect breed 
 ing, he should become completely fascinated. 
 
 " The result of this may be easily imagined. 
 
 "Some five months had passed before M. Lessaix 
 could return direct to New Orleans. It had been no 
 ticed with but little astonishment that he had cashed 
 a large draft on his house through the Portuguese con 
 sul, although it might have been supposed that he 
 would have naturally had recourse to the consul of his 
 own nation. It had also been remarked that he had 
 found no difficulty in doing so. This, of course, waa 
 attributed to his direct mercantile connection with 
 
MR. BULWER S STORY. 223 
 
 Brazil, at that time a Portuguese dependency. At 
 length, a large schooner was to sail for Havana, and 
 from Havana an easy chance might be found for his 
 return. The schooner was laden with a valuable 
 cargo. She was to sail from Cuba for Rio, and M. 
 Lessaix saw the captain of the vessel, and made ar 
 rangements with him for his own passage to Havana. 
 
 "This was about a week before the day on which 
 the schooner was to leave New York, and, in the after 
 noon, the father of Mr. Bulwer summoned his son into 
 his counting-house, and told him that he had made ar 
 rangements with his new friend for the boy to pass 
 the following two years in New Orleans as a clerk to 
 M. Lessaix. This decision was urged upon him by the 
 wish that young Bulwer should enlarge his experience. 
 It is needless to say, that, with the exception of the 
 natural regret at parting from his parents, this deter 
 mination was received by his son with unfeigned 
 pleasure." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 MR. BULWEB AT HAVANA.- M. 
 
 <% ACCORDINGLY, the boy sailed u th his i .w friend 
 for the South, and reached Havana in safet. It was 
 some three weeks before a chanc* arrived for their 
 crossing the Gulf to New Orleans, and he f U some 
 surprise at the almost universal dc^rence vvl ih was 
 offered to his employer. 
 
 "Moreover, that employer s mannas had air :st im 
 perceptibly changed towards him; & change wh>,h he 
 attributed to the difference between their pas and 
 present positions with regard to each other. Altl >ugh 
 as friendly as before, M. Lessaix did not associate rith 
 him as much or as freely as he had previously d ne. 
 In short, he let him feel that this friendliness must in 
 his case, be regarded as exceptional, or, at all eve \ % 
 as an unusual kindliness, to one who H,d no right to 
 
 look for it. 
 
 22: 
 
":2 THE PRA1U1E CRUSOE. 
 
 " One day iii especial, he entered the apartment of 
 M. Lcssaix, at the hotel where they were stopping, 
 vory suddenly. He was talking with a bearded and 
 s .alwart naval officer, although the young man could 
 not tell from his rich and tawdry uniform to what na 
 tion he belonged ; and these were the words he heard 
 on entering the room. The officer was speaking in the 
 English tongue. He was apparently a native of Great 
 Britain, if any judgment could be formed from his ac- 
 c?nt ; but this, young Bulwer afterwards doubted, as 
 he spoke with equal ease, Spanish, when they changed 
 the language in which they had been conversing. 
 
 " And what shall I do with the coffee and spice, 
 captain ? 
 
 "M. Lessaix answered sharply and imperatively, 
 Store them in Martinique. As for the money 
 While saying this, his eye fell upon the boy. For a 
 moment a savage frown covered his face, and the in 
 voluntary intruder shrank back. However, in the next 
 moment it had passed, and his usual pleasant smile 
 rose to his lips. Come in, mon ami] he said, we 
 were only talking on business. As he uttered these 
 words, his glance turned to his companion, who had 
 retired a step, and had thrust his hand into the bosom 
 of his richly laced waistcoat. A fev fierce Spanish 
 words were spoken by him, to which an even more 
 angry reply was apparently returned. Then M. Les- 
 
MR. BULWER AT HAVANA. 227 
 
 saix rose, and, with what appeared to young Bulwei 
 an abrupt order, pointed to the door of the apartment, 
 The sailor looked defiantly from him to the boy for a 
 moment; then he seemed suddenly to remember him 
 self, and with a low bow to the one, and a sharp, short 
 nod to the other, retired from the room. 
 
 "As he did so, Lessaix turned to Mr. Bulwer. 
 
 "<It is an unpleasant thing, mon cher? he slowly 
 laughed out, to have business with this sort of person. 
 If wo are disposed to defer it, they seem personally to 
 resent it. It is the old Catalan blood, that is always 
 boiling. 
 
 " The lad here ventured to say, that he had thought 
 his companion was an Englishman. 
 
 " No : a Spanish Creole, my child, he said caress 
 ingly. Then, passing his arm around the boy s neck, 
 he drew him gently towards the door. If our volante 
 has arrived, we will go and take our evening s drive 
 around the Prado. The carriage to which he alluded 
 was, at that time, the only vehicle employed by the 
 wealthier Havanese for pleasure. It consisted of a 
 large body, with seats for two persons ; although very 
 commonly three ladies might be seen riding in one of 
 them. This body was supported upon two large wheels, 
 and was generally drawn by a single fine horse be 
 tween its two long shafts. Sometimes, however, a 
 second horse or mule is attached on the left side of one 
 
228 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 of the shafts, somewhat in advance of the animal on 
 which rides the postilion, who is invariably a negro. 
 
 " In a very short time, Mr. Bulwcr had forgotten this 
 incident, although subsequent circumstances recalled ii 
 to him : this the more readily, as in a few days they 
 get sail for New Orleans, in a vessel belonging to M. 
 Lessaix, which was then on its return to that city from 
 Rio. 
 
 "The young man had of necessity seen much of the 
 mercantile marine in the port of New York ; but he 
 was astonished at the greater neatness and precision 
 exhibited in all the details on board The Rover. Be 
 sides this, her crew seemed to be unusually large. 
 One morning, however, his friend explained to him 
 that there was so much piracy on the coast of South 
 America, that he was obliged to man his trading ves 
 sels largely, as well as to send them out sufficiently 
 armed. In this he alluded to the four brass carron- 
 ades which the schooner carried. It would be need 
 less to say that the lad implicitly credited this asper- 
 tion." 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 LOVE, PIRACY, AND A LITTLE KIDNAPPING. 
 
 "ON their arrival at New Orleans, after the first 
 week had passed, the 1:: " s (!, 1 down very naturally 
 and easily in1 > the position of second clerk at the 
 wholesale an 1 ivtuil warehouse which M. Lessaix had 
 on the levee, or wharf, which runs along that city 
 where it touches the Mississippi. 
 
 "The extent of business done there was very large, 
 and the goods sold were very various, tobacco, cot 
 fee, and sugar from the West Indies, spices and coco*> 
 from Brazil, silks ami laces from France, velvets froi> 
 Venice, jewelry from England, France, and Hollanu, 
 tea from China, indigo from the East ; and, indeed, al 
 most every variety of valuable or choice merchandise 
 might be found in his warerooms. 
 
 "At first the young man had not noticed that in 
 goods were consigned direct to the house; but, in th< 
 
 829 
 
230 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 second year that he was with M. Lessaix, he began to 
 remark this. The accounts of the house were only for 
 goods sold. Upon observing this fact to the principal 
 clerk, an elderly man, who appeared to have some 
 share in the business, and was of a very uncommuni 
 cative nature, he received a reply which struck him as 
 very singular. 
 
 " The business of M. Lessaix, said the clerk, is, 
 my good young gentleman, chiefly dependent upon the 
 contraband trade. 
 
 " But the contraband goods must be received, re 
 plied young Bulwer. 
 
 " So they are. 
 
 " But where? 
 
 " My dear young friend, uttered his grave superior 
 in the house, let me give you a hint, not to ask that 
 question from M. Lessaix. 
 
 " And why? he has always told me to apply to 
 him for any information. 
 
 " He, he, he! chuckled the v.lerk. Not about 
 himself, not about himself. As he said this, lie 
 thrust his long, lean forefinger into the side of the lad, 
 with a rapidity and vigor that almost took away his 
 breath. Then he chuckled again, turned abruptly fror.i 
 him, and would not utter another word. 
 
 "In addition to this, M. Lessaix was very frequently 
 away from his business. Once ho had been absent for 
 
LOVE, PIRACY, ETC. 
 
 more than five months. He had probably been en 
 gaged in a voyage, running in more contraband 
 goods, as his second clerk thought ; yet that clerk 
 was somewhat astonished to see, on his employer s re 
 turn, that his brow was seamed on the left side by 
 what appeared to be a sabre-cut. 
 
 " We were nearly taken by pirates, mon cher, when 
 we were about two days out from Jamaica. This is 
 the remembrance they left me. 
 
 "On Mr. Bulwer s asking him the particulars, these 
 were give- in a sufficiently vague and general manner 
 to produce the impression that they might not pre 
 cisely be altogether true. However, at this time the 
 young man had no apparent reason to suspect his em 
 ployer of being engaged in the illegal calling he really 
 pursued. Consequently, his reply left no very durable 
 impression upon the lad s mind. 
 
 " It was shortly after this that he became acquainted 
 with his present wife. Indeed, to this acquaintanceship 
 he attributed the fact that he had not gradually given 
 himself up more completely to the influence which M. 
 Lessaix had, since their first knowledge of each other, 
 acquired over him. 
 
 "She was the daughter of an English produce- 
 dealer, who had been settled for a length of time in 
 the city. During the last seven years, he had been the 
 English consul at that port. At that, time it was not, 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 in a pecuniary point of view, a post of any very great 
 importance ; but it gave him some standing in the 
 higher classes of the city, who, although sharing in 
 the dislike of their own nation for his, respected his 
 commercial probity, and had a high opinion of his gen 
 eral intelligence. 
 
 "At first, he had seemed disposed not to encour 
 age young Bulwer s advances towards intimacy, but, 
 probably after some inquiry into his position in the 
 world, had become convinced that he might safely 
 admit him to his fireside. 
 
 "Then some one or two months passed, and Mr. 
 Bulwer found himself recognized in the family as a 
 welcome suitor to their daughter. 
 
 "He had written to his father; and, after a fair time 
 had elapsed for his parents to ascertain the position 
 of Mr. Bishop, and the character he bore in New Or 
 leans, his father replied, approving his choice. At the 
 same time, he wrote a lengthy letter to Mr. Bishop, to 
 which, on receiving it, the latter did not allude for 
 several days. 
 
 " At length, one evening, when young Bulwer called 
 at the house of Mr. Bishop, he found the daughter out, 
 or was informed that she was. He was also told by 
 the negro servant that his massa wished to see him 
 alone. Accordingly, he went into the private office of 
 the English consul, with a degree of timidity which 
 
LOVE, PIRACY, ETC. 
 
 233 
 
 was only removed by the cordiality with which that 
 gentleman welcomed him. 
 
 " Sit down, my dear Bulwer, said the consul. *1 
 have a good deal to say which ought to be told you. 
 When I first received your father s letter, I had deter- 
 mined to let matters take the course which he had 
 marked out. However, upon reflection, I think it bet 
 ter to be perfectly candid. Therefore let me tell you, 
 that it is through my agency that you are recalled to 
 New York. 
 
 "Mr. Bulwer was completely astonished. 
 " My dear sir, he at length said, let me assure you, 
 that I have not been summoned home by my father. 
 "It was now Mr. Bishop s turn to exhibit surprise. 
 " How? he inquired. Has M. Lessaix said noth 
 ing to you upon the subject? 
 " Not a word, sir. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop was silent for several moments. Then 
 he said reflectively, But he will, he must, do so in 
 the next few days. 
 
 And why, may I ask, Mr. Bishop, asked the young 
 man, with a look and in a tone which betrayed how 
 much he felt hurt, both on his own account and that 
 of his employer, at such a step, did you recommend 
 my father to call me back ? 
 
 " For reasons which were with me, my son, mat 
 ters of imperative necessity. Until I had permitted 
 
234 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 you to enter upon this engagement with Jenny, it was 
 of little difference to me where you might be em 
 ployed. Now, my dear boy, it matters much. 
 
 " Of course it does, replied young Bulwer quickly. 
 c But M. Lessaix, as a merchant 
 
 " By no means, interrupted the English consul 
 gravely, bears the highest character amongst those 
 who follow a similar calling. 
 
 " The young man was at first confounded, and then 
 indignant. 
 
 " l My good sir, he said sharply, I have been em 
 ployed by him for more than two years. 
 
 " In his sales, only, was the answer. 
 
 " It struck young Bulwer at once, that this was true. 
 He knew not how .the goods were purchased, nor 
 whence they came. At the same time, he could not 
 see in what way this fact could compromise so griev 
 ously his principal. 
 
 " Well, he said, i supposing that he is a smuggler. 
 
 " My good lad, replied Mr. Bishop, make no mis 
 take. M. Lessaix is no smuggler. 
 
 " What, then, do you say he is? 
 
 " I say nothing. But he is suspected of being a 
 pirate. 
 
 "The young man turned pale. He was, at the fl -st 
 moment, disposed to denounce the accusation as an 
 impossibility. But the more he reflected upon il, the 
 
LOVE, PIRACY, ETC. 
 
 more he found that he was unable to do so. A thou 
 sand slight circumstances, which, at the time, he had 
 been unable to explain, returned upon him. All of 
 them bore convincing testimony to the truth of Mr. 
 Bishop s accusation. 
 
 "When he left him that night, he was in a state of 
 the most profound regret. To a certain extent he had 
 liked, nay, he had almost loved, M. Lessaix. He knew 
 that piracy, at that period, was not exactly classed with 
 other crimes ; yet he also knew that it exposed those 
 who were guilty of it, when caught, to the severest 
 and most degrading form of death. There is, there 
 fore, little to be surprised at in his having determined 
 to warn M. Lessaix of that which he was suspected 
 
 of. 
 
 "He may possibly have supposed that M. Lessaix 
 would have been indignant ; but he knew so little of 
 the man as he really was, that he could not have fore 
 seen in how great a trouble he was involving himself. 
 
 " On his first speaking to that gentleman, which was 
 done by him with considerable difficulty, M. Lessaix 
 laughed in his face. This annoyed him, and enabled 
 him to speak much more clearly. He accused him of 
 having withheld his father s letter of recall from him, 
 and, finally, very plainly told him of what he was sus 
 pected. 
 
 " Indeed, said his employer, after a brief pause, a 
 
THE PRATPJE CRUSOE. 
 
 dark smik breaking over and clouding his face, * and 
 if I was? 
 
 " I should be obliged at once to leave you. 
 * Oh, no ! you would not. You are a young man of 
 much better and stronger will than those out of whom 
 life frames her tradesmen and mechanics. For two 
 years, I have had my eye upon you. You are temper 
 ate, somewhat cold-blooded, so much the better. 
 My purpose, boy as you then were, was formed when 
 I first knew you. All I have seen of you lately con 
 firms me in it. You will accompany me to sea the 
 next time that I go. In another year, you shall be my 
 second in command. Young Bulwer here made a 
 gesture, as if about to interrupt him ; but he avoided 
 this by continuing more -apidly, * What is it that you 
 have hitherto known of life ( Simply nothing. I will 
 carry you with me into the tropical seas, where you 
 will revel in a long and sunny paradise of joy and ad 
 venture. Every moment will give you a new delight, 
 and you shall wake up from the night s sleep to thank 
 me and nature for having made you a man. 
 
 "Here Mr. Bulwer broke in upon what he was say 
 ing by assuring him that sucli arguments were useless 
 He bade him reflect upon what must be the termina 
 tion of his own career. M. Lessaix laughed at him, 
 and, calling him a boy, adduced argument after argu 
 ment to gain his consent Luckily, as my friend 
 
LOVE, PIRACY, ETC. 237 
 
 gaid, his conviction of the uprightness of Providence, 
 and his love for his present wife, saved him from giv 
 ing way to the half entreaty and half command, which 
 was so persistently urged upon him. 
 
 "It was ultimately agreed upon between them, that 
 the young man should return to New York as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 "That night, however, his employer insisted upon 
 his supping with him. Whether the coffee of which 
 he partook was drugged, he did not know; but when 
 he awoke, late on the following day, he found himself 
 on a cot in the cabin of the schooner on which he had 
 originally arrived in New Orleans. She was moving 
 with a swift breeze down one of the many channels in 
 the delta of the Mississippi. 
 
 " Some three hours later, he was in the Gulf of 
 Mexico." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 SHARKS AND P1KATES. - THE PURSUIT. TH3 7)K 
 OF M. LESSAIX. 
 
 "!T would be useless here to recount all that young 
 Bulwer said or did. Remonstrances, prayers, and 
 threats were alike of no avail to procure the pity, or 
 influence the fears, of those who had the charge of him; 
 for he soon discovered that M. Lessaix was not on 
 board. 
 
 "The officer in command was the sam^ I have 
 already mentioned that the young man had seen while 
 upon his brief visit to the island of Cuba. 
 
 " i Hark ye, my lad ! he at length roughly said, as 
 his prisoner was expressing his indignation. * It is very 
 lucky for you that the captain marked you safe for 
 this trip, in the log-book, or here he uttered a fierce 
 oa th you might count on it, that I should make short 
 work with you. At any rate, if not I, I can promise 
 you that yonder blue-fins should. In making this 
 
 239 
 
240 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE;. 
 
 menace, he extended his finger, pointing significantly 
 in the direction where, from time to time, three or four 
 sharks in the wake of the vessel might be seen glan 
 cing through the limpid waves in the gorgeous light of 
 the morning sun of the tropics. 
 
 " These huge and destructive fish, the tigers of the 
 ocean, may not unfrequently be seen following in the 
 course of a sailing craft, waiting for the otFai which 
 i say be thrown out ; and woe to the luckless sailor who 
 may chance at such times to fall overboard. There is 
 a flash through the waters; the pale stomach of the 
 terrible fish glistens near the surface in the light as he 
 turns upon his side to seize the victim ; then the huge 
 jaws snap, and a purple streak appears on the glittering 
 waves, which gradually widens. Perchance the scream 
 of a dying man has been heard, and perhaps not ; but 
 all is over. 
 
 " Consequently the threat was by no means a pleas 
 ant one, and what with the young man s passionate re 
 grets for his enforced absence from his betrothed, and 
 Ms indignation with his employer, he passed, as may be 
 reasonably supposed, a remarkably unpleasant six days 
 before he arrived at his destination. 
 
 " In the mean time, his disappearance had awakened 
 suspicion ; and although M. Lessaix had joined actively 
 in the search for him, and loudly in the protestations 
 Qf sorrow and regret raised throughout the city, in 
 
SHARKS AND PIRATES. 2-11 
 
 which young Bulwer was much liked, he could not do 
 away with Mr. Bishop s belief that he was implicated 
 in it. Luckily a vessel was in port at the time in which 
 Mr. Bishop owned, in conjunction with an American 
 firm, one part. It was a very rapid sailer, and was 
 tolerably heavily armed. There was in addition an 
 American frigate, at the time, which was known to be 
 lying off the mouth of the Mississippi for the purpose 
 of protecting the commerce of the young republic 
 from the piracy in the gulf. To the captain of this 
 frigate, the English consul wrote a strong letter, repre 
 senting the fact that an American citizen had been 
 abducted from New Orleans, and, as he believed, by 
 one of the most notorious pirates then infesting those 
 waters, commonly known as Capt. Jacques Torreau. 
 He acknowledged that he could not prove M. Lessaix 
 and Jacques Torreau to be one and the same person. 
 He, however, strongly suspected this to be the case. 
 In consequence, he jirgently begged the American cap 
 tain to co-operate with him in following M. Lessaix 
 should he leave New Orleans, stating, that, otherwise, 
 he should be compelled to follow him himself, with 
 only the vessel to which I have already alluded. 
 
 " This letter he sent down the river by a pilot-vessel, 
 with orders to cruise until it found the frigate. 
 
 "As Providence dictated that it should be, the 
 frigate was encountered immediately off the eastern 
 
212 THE PRA1BIK CUUSOE. 
 
 channel in the Balize; nor was this answer of the 
 captain other than it might have been supposed any 
 American official would have returned in a similar case. 
 
 " Meanwhile Mr. Bishop increased the crew of his 
 own vessel, and armed them as well as he could, by 
 night, in order to awaken no suspicion. 
 
 " Spies were also disposed in the houses around the 
 dwelling and counting-house of M. Lessaix. 
 
 " Eight nights after, the French governor having in 
 the interval done nothing to assist their anxiety, word 
 was brought the English consul that M. Lessaix was 
 passing the night in his counting-house. 
 
 "Immediately he sent orders to his own vessel to 
 weigli anchor, and drop quietly down the river, leaving 
 its largest boat with a full complement of men, well- 
 armed, under the levee some hundred yards below the 
 Frenchman s warehouse. In this boat, he placed his 
 eldest son, Arthur Bishop, as his official position neces 
 sarily precluded him from taking any active share in 
 the business. 
 
 "It was about half-past eleven o clock that Capt. 
 Jacques Torreau, for it would be useless any longer to 
 continue calling him by his other name, entered the 
 boat which had been waiting for him, and, following 
 the main channel of the river, quitted New Orleans for- 
 ever. 
 
 "Probably, froii his complicity with the Freucb 
 
SHARKS AND PIRATES. 243 
 
 governor of Louisiana, or his subordinate officials, SO 1 
 long carried out, Capt. Torreau had become careless. 
 However this may have been, from the time at which 
 he had quitted the city, he evidently, from all accounts^ 
 did not make the slightest attempt to disguise his 
 movements, until upon reaching the schooner which 
 was in waiting for him at one of the numerous mouths 
 of the Mississippi, and seeing the signals made by order 
 of Mr. Bishop s son to the American frigate, which was 
 lying at no great distance in the offing, he saw that he 
 was pursued, and in another half-hour would have 
 fallen into the trap which had been prepared for him. 
 
 "From this moment, he put forth all the resources of 
 his seamanship, which, as young Bishop, himself a good 
 practical sailor, and the American captain afterwards 
 told Mr. Bulwer, were, beyond any doubt, very thor 
 ough. 
 
 " But I have to return to the prisoner. The place 
 of detention destined for him was beyond a lonely 
 patch of swampy land at the western end of San Do 
 mingo. Having shipped her topmasts, and lowered her 
 yards, the vessel was almost entirely hidden by the 
 dense and luxuriant vegetation surrounding the small 
 creek into which she had entered. He himself was 
 then landed, and hurried off some two miles into th$ 
 interior, with a polite request from his former acqu lint- 
 unce not to attempt an escape. 
 
241 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 " Otherwise, said his very plain-spoken friend, 1 
 shall be compelled to check your runaway tendency 
 with a leaden messenger. 
 
 D 
 
 " I need scarcely say that such an intimation, coupled 
 with his complete ignorance of the localities, or the 
 very name of his place of imprisonment, gave his guard 
 an ample security for his remaining in his custody. 
 
 " They at length arrived at a small house, which, he 
 was told, belonged to a Spanish planter. It was 
 built in the style then and now so common in the 
 West Indies. The dwelling consisted of one story, 
 surrounding a large court-yard. Windows, extending 
 from the ceiling to the floor, were in all the rooms. 
 But those in the room which was given to him were 
 protected, or rather secured, by long iron bars, as are 
 those in the lower floors of the houses in Havana. As 
 it afterwards turned out, this rancho, as it was called, 
 belonged to his old employer, who here enjoyed a third 
 name. 
 
 " Here he remained for over nineteen days, not being 
 allowed to quit his room during that period. 
 
 "At the end of this time, he was awaked in the night 
 from his slumbers (for, since his abduction, he had slept 
 very lightly) by the distant sound of a cannonade. It 
 was one of those bright, clear, tropical moonlights, in 
 which every thing within the circle of the moon s radi 
 ance ; s distinctly visible; and, beyond the dense and 
 
SHARKS AND PIRATES. 245 
 
 jungly growth on the shore, he saw a smaL schooner 
 endeavoring to escape to the sea, from the guns of 
 a frigate and a smaller vessel, which were driving 
 her towards the coast. How he knew it, he confessed 
 that he was unable to say, as the distance must have 
 rendered it impossible for the naked eye to detect the 
 colors of the frigate. Nevertheless, Mr. Bulwer was 
 confident that the colors of that ship were his own na 
 tional stars and stripes; and, falling upon his knees, he 
 prayed long and fervently that Providence would ena 
 ble her to release him. Strangely enough, he seemed 
 never for one instant to have doubted that this was 
 the object of her commander. 
 
 "When he arose, the vessel had disappeared behind 
 a wooded knoll, on the right of the creek. 
 
 "He, however, still saw the smoke of the cannonade, 
 and heard the hoarse thunder of the guns, apparently 
 much nearer, until just before daybreak. At this time, 
 the sky had become considerably darker, as it very 
 commonly does in southern latitudes, and he saw the 
 whole horizon suddenly illuminated with a reddish 
 light. At the same moment, a broad, white mass of 
 pyramidal flame rose momentarily beyond the knoll, 
 which disappeared in a dense canopy of smoke. It 
 was followed by the terrible report of an explosion, 
 which shook the beams and rafters of the house in 
 which he was imprisoned, as if it had been an earth- 
 
240 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 quake Scarcely five minutes had elapsed when a 
 second explosion took place. This time, it came from 
 the creek; and Mr. Bulwer at once felt certain that 
 his friends had won a complete victory. 
 
 "By what instinct he knew not, but he rushed to the 
 door, and attempted to tear it open. To his astonish 
 ment, it yielded readily to his efforts. It is probable 
 that the somewhat slight building had been so shaken 
 by the force of the two explosions, that the heavy bolt 
 of the lock had already partially been forced from its 
 hold. However this may have been, he paused not to 
 inquire, but, dashing it hurriedly open, rapidly de 
 scended towards the creek. 
 
 " In his wild hurry, he thought of nothing but es 
 cape, until he found himself amongst a mass of blas 
 pheming and struggling men, beyond which, in the 
 breaking morning -light, he saw the face of young 
 Bishop. 
 
 "With a loud cry of joy, he sprung towards him, 
 and, in a moment afterwards, fell to the ground with a 
 shot through his right side. 
 
 O o & 
 
 "His subsequent brother-in-law told him in the 
 course of a few days, when his youthful vitality had 
 returned sufficiently from the prostrating effect of the 
 wound to enable him to converse, that this shot had 
 been fired by Jacques Barbier. This, however, Mr, 
 Bulwer would never believe. 
 
SHARKS AND PIRATES. 
 
 And what became of him ? I asked. 
 " He died the same night. 
 How? 
 
 He was killed within five minutes from my receiv 
 ing my wound. 
 
 I was about to have asked him, By whom? but 
 the look of pah I saw upon my old friend s face an 
 swered my question, and I forbore. He could not 
 altogether forget the French buccaneer s previous 
 kindness to him ; and Eugene Lessaix, alias Jacques 
 Barbier, alias somebody else, had been shot down by 
 Mr. Bulwer s present brother-in-law. Ill as I might 
 think of the dead man, let me own, that I felt this 
 touch of human affection ripen my respect for him 
 who felt it, into something akin to veneration; and 
 when, that night, I bent over, and kissed his hand, as I 
 retired to rest, I felt that Providence had placed me 
 with an upright and kindly man, whose gentle wis 
 dom might look after my out-jroinffs and in-comings 
 greatly to my advantage. 
 
 On the next morning, I decided upon abandoning 
 my proposed intention to visit New Orleans ; not from 
 any fear of its results to myself, but from my dislike to 
 cause my good friend any increase of anxiety upon my 
 account," 
 
CHAPTER XXXT. 
 
 FAREWELL TO LEWIS. MY DEPARTURE FOR EUROPP. 
 
 "!T was some four years subsequently that I found 
 myself so prosperous, that I was wealthy enough to 
 follow out my own inclinations. These led me to re 
 turn to Europe, and once again to look upon my dear 
 native land. Accordingly, I spoke of my proposed 
 plan to Mr. Bulwer. 
 
 " He listened to me with deep pain. Yet the gener 
 ous and feeling heart of one who had been almost a 
 father to me would not permit him to make any op 
 position. 
 
 " But I had one friend to whose kindly aid, and, in 
 no small degree, to whose initiation of me into the 
 life of the prairies, I, in great part, owed my fortune; 
 and I felt that I must not leave the country without 
 embracing him, and once more looking upon his 
 bronzed cheek, and frank and earnest eye. Accord- 
 
 249 
 
-50 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 ingly, I went to pass a few days with Lewis, whom 1 
 Lad frequently seen when he came, once a year, to the 
 city, for the purpose of settling his accounts with his 
 and my good friend ; for such Mr. Bulwer had been 
 from the first hour in which we met him. 
 
 " On my Celling him that it was my purpose to re- 
 turn to Germany, he was deeply affected. He, how 
 ever, did not say much. His lonely life on the prairies 
 had accustomed him to repress his feelings ; and this 
 habit was comparatively unchanged by his recent more 
 common contact with his white brethren. 
 
 " Well, he said, I suppose it is natural that you 
 should go back, and leave me here. You have young 
 friends, not having yet grown out of the age of young 
 friendships. When you again see them, you will very 
 soon forget that the old trapper Lewis ever existed. 
 
 " I assured him that he did me wrong, and that my 
 memory was not one that would prove forgetful of my 
 friends, especially of one who had stood by me, and at 
 whose side I had stood, in so many hours of danger. 
 Tin-owing myself upon his neck, I do not feel ashamed 
 to say that I literally wept. As for Lewis, disengaging 
 himself from my embrace, he sat down on the stump 
 of a lately felled tree, and buried his face in his hands. 
 When he looked up, his brow was settled again, and he 
 turned to me, saying, 
 
 " Let us wander out upon the prairie for the next 
 
FAREWELL TO LEWIS, ETC. 251 
 
 six or seven hours. It is but a tame spot compared to 
 those wilds which we have travelled through ; but we 
 shall remember something of the past, when we were 
 fast brothers, and first stood side by side. 
 
 "So saying, he rose; and, taking our rifles, we 
 wandered forth. We were absent for three days from 
 the post. 
 
 " On the last day, I told Lewis, that now, when he 
 was settling down, he ought to give himself a wife, 
 and surround himself with a family. We were then 
 standing on the summit of a small knoll, just within 
 sight of the station. 
 
 " Lewis smiled grimly. 
 
 " Who, he asked, would think of wedding a 
 scarred and weather-beaten trapper, who could not 
 say soft words, and to whom a woman s heart was like 
 an untrodden prairie that he had never yet crossed. 
 
 " On the prairie, I replied, you and I, and men 
 like us, can always travel. The North star is a sure 
 guide. We know east and west by the rising and set 
 ting sun. There are guides that will lead you to 
 woman s heart as surely; and, were I of your age, 
 L jwis, it should not be long ere I followed them. 
 
 "A strange laugh broke from his lips when I said 
 this, and we returned together to his dwelling. 
 
 " It was late that night when we sought our slumbers; 
 and my last words to him, on wrapping my blanket 
 
-52 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 around me, were, that my love for him should never be 
 forgotten, and that, chance what might, I should never 
 fail to pray for God s blessing on him, and, I should hope, 
 on his. 
 
 " Amen! was Lewis s brief answer, as he flung 
 himself on his own resting-place, and composed him 
 self to slumber. 
 
 " The following day I pressed his hand for the last 
 time, and, before the sun had risen for one hour, was 
 already several miles upon my return. 
 
 "Afterwards I heard from Mr. Bulwer, who was a 
 tolerably faithful correspondent for many years, that 
 Lewis had followed my advice. About a year after my 
 departure, he took to himself a wife. It was an Indian 
 woman whom he wedded, and one who turned out a 
 most excellent helpmate to him. lie bought a good-si/ed 
 farm in the neighborhood of St. Louie, and gave him 
 self up entirely to its cultivation and to the rearing of 
 his two children, who, together with the frank and fear- 
 less brow of their father, inherited the black hair and 
 deep-toned eyes of their mother s race. 
 
 " Occasionally he will make a month s excursion to 
 his old hunting-grounds; but, with this exception, he is 
 what the Americans would call a thoroughly good 
 settler. 
 
 "On my return to St. Louis, I industriously occupied 
 myself in making the preparations for my departure, 
 
FAREWELL TO LEWIS, ETC. 253 
 
 But, as the day drew near for me to leave Mr. Bulwer, 
 I must honestly say, my courage almost failed me. 
 That good man and his dear wife could not, like Lewis, 
 maintain a control over their features. Indeed, Mrs. 
 Bulwer s sorrow was so evident, that once or twice I 
 was nearly on the point of breaking my resolution to 
 leave them. On the very morning of my departure, 
 when Mrs. Bulwer embraced me, her husband, taking 
 my "hand, said a few words which almost turned my 
 purpose. 
 
 " Go, my young friend ! May the Lord be with you, 
 and bless you in all you purpose or undertake ! Re 
 member, that, should misfortune ever overtake you in 
 your native country, you have friends here who will 
 receive you with gladness. While we live, our affection 
 can never forget you. 
 
 The good man s eyes fairly filled with tears, as he 
 spoke, and his wife cried heartily. 
 
 But at last the love of home, and my affectionate 
 remembrance of the baron and Stanislas, prevailed;, 
 and, quitting the friends who had been so kind to me, I 
 went on board the vessel in which I had engaged my 
 passage. 
 
 "The trip down the river offered little that was 
 remarkable, and I was soon at New Orleans. Here I 
 remained but a few days, so impatient was I to return 
 to Europe, and was soon on the route to Freuden- 
 stadt." 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MY KKTUBN. THE BARON. 
 
 "Mr voyage was, in every respect, an agreeable one 
 although I could only long for its termination, so desir 
 ous was I to arrive at my old home. It was a bright and 
 balmy morning in the month of June when we at length 
 reached Hamburg, after a passage of forty^three days ; 
 and, in my eagerness once more to look upon the faces 
 vhich had been so beloved, immediately after the for 
 malities connected with my passport were ended, I 
 employed a servant connected with the principal hotel 
 to procure me a carriage. In about half an hour, it was 
 standing at the door, and I at once started. 
 
 " Wishing to enjoy the surprise of the baron, I had 
 not announced my return to him. 
 
 "It would be almost impossible for me to describe 
 the emotion I felt as I at length drew near to Freu- 
 denstadt. Here was * turn on the road ; there it crossed 
 
 255 
 
250 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 a little stream by a rude wooden bridge, which had, in 
 rny childhood, appeared to me so large ai d magnificent 
 a structure; here was the country forge, at which I 
 so well remember Smith Hans striking with his heavy 
 hammer the red and glowing iron ; and there, at 
 length, were the trees, whose rich green foliage con 
 cealed the walls of Wolfenstein. A few yards more, 
 and I saw its fine old walls, and its windows glittering 
 under its battlements in the yellow sunlight. My heart 
 beat violently. Unable to control my feelings, I stopped 
 the driver. Action was necessary to me to alleviate the 
 violence of my emotion. So I preferred to quit the 
 carriage, and walk on, giving him directions to drive 
 on by the road, and await me at the village. 
 
 "Every tree and every little knoll by which I passed 
 recalled some adventure of my youth. 
 
 "Here I had leaped or run with Stanislas. There 
 I had climbed the knotted stem of an old oak to get a 
 bird s-nest for little Bertha. A little farther on was the 
 path which I had so often trodden from the humblo 
 home of my foster-father, in the direction of the castle. 
 As I reflected on his love for me, and remembered that 
 he was no longer living to welcome me, my thoughts 
 involuntarily saddened. Yes: perhaps I was now to 
 learn some new grief. What might not time and sor 
 row have wrought in the baron s once happy household ! 
 
 " Why is it, that, at the very moment < f expected 
 
MY RETURN. THE BARON. 257 
 
 happiness, the heart always feels some unwelcome 
 thought intruding its fear and sadness upon it? I can 
 only say that mine was bitterly tried with these gloomy 
 forebodings. 
 
 " However, I continued my way, and was soon close 
 to the entrance gate, which stood, as it had usually 
 done in the olden days, hospitably open. Leaning 
 against the wall, I felt almost unable to proceed farther. 
 
 "A servant who was passing through the hall, and 
 who appeared astonished at my troubled appearance, 
 advanced towards me, and politely inquired what I 
 needed. My tongue could barely stammer out the 
 name of the baron. He must probably have thought 
 that, in spite of my dress, I was an applicant for assist 
 ance; for, with a pleasant smile, although somewhat 
 patronizingly, he said, 
 
 " If the gentleman will come with me, I shall have 
 the pleasure of announcing him. 
 
 "With these words, he led me towards the library. 
 At the door he paused. 
 
 " What name, he inquired, shall I have the honor 
 of announcing? 
 
 "My answer to him was, I will announce myself. 
 Pushing the astonished domestic aside, I accordingly 
 opened the door, and advanced into the apartment. 
 
 " For a moment, the baron turned from the book ho 
 had been reading, in one of the deeply embrasured win- 
 17 
 
258 THE PRATRTE CRUSOE. 
 
 dows, and looked at me ivith some surprise, not un 
 mixed with a trifle of annoyance, at being so uncere 
 moniously intruded upon. In the next instant, he had 
 risen, and advanced towards me. He was far from 
 u-< ognizing me, and inquired simply in what manner 
 lie might serve me. Nor was there any wonder thru 
 this was so. The child to whom he had bidden fare 
 well some ten years earlier was now a tall, bronzed, 
 and bearded man of twenty-six years of age, yet look 
 ing some five or six years older. My memory, how 
 ever, was more faithful. I remembered the handsome 
 ind stately features on which those ten years had 
 scarcely yet traced an additional wrinkle. Neither 
 had the hair perceptibly whitened ; although, as he 
 laughingly told me subsequently, there were streaks 
 of gray in it, which made him avoid strong light when 
 he found himself in the society of ladies, who might 
 possibly take him for his son s elder brother. 
 
 ""This, nevertheless, occurred afterwards. I was 
 too deeply moved to utter a single word. 
 
 The baron saw my trouble, and, as he informed me 
 later in the evening, sharing the error of his domestic, 
 addressed me in an even kinder tone than he had pre 
 viously done, reiterating his former question. 
 
 " It was impossible any longer to control myself. 
 
 " Overcome by my emotion, half-blinded by my tears 
 of joy, scarcely able, through my sobs, to utter the 
 
MY RETURN. THE BARON. 2f>9 
 
 words that shaped themselves tremblingly upon my 
 tongue, I threw myself into his arms, asking him 
 whether he no longer recognized the little William 
 whom he had once so loved. 
 
 "The voice seemed to touch one of the memories 
 that nothing in my personal appearance could possibly 
 do. 
 
 " Thrusting me from him, he gazed into my face ; 
 and through my speech something had been given him 
 on which memory could build the bridge which should 
 unite the present with the past. 
 
 "Again he embraced me, or rather did so in turn 
 (for I must own that the (];..{ embrace had been entirely 
 upon my part) ; and after one or two broken exclama 
 tions of pleasure, which lie did not attempt to restrain, 
 he turned to the servant, who was standing wide- 
 mouthed in his surprise and astonishment by the open 
 door, and despatched him to seek for Stanislas." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 MIT FIRST DAY AT FREUDENSTADT. 
 
 " IT need scarcely be stated, that on his way to the 
 stables for the purpose of saddling a horse, that ho 
 might follow Stanislas, who had departed in the morn 
 ing for a day s sport (game was plentiful on the baron s 
 estates), the domestic took occasion to tell the rest of 
 the household, that the little William, of whom he had 
 long since heard amongst the elder ones of them, had 
 returned. Accordingly, in a few moments, while wait 
 ing at the side of the baron, I saw the faces of the old 
 butler, and three or four of the principal servants, ap 
 pearing at the doorway. Their respect for their master 
 I re vented them from entering the library unbidden. I 
 was accordingly advancing towards them, when the 
 baron laid his hand upon my arm, and restrained me, 
 bidding them to come in. 
 
 " Here, he said, is the long absent prodigal re* 
 
 Ml 
 
262 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 turned, my friends. Judging by his looks and hu 
 size, it may be said that travel has, at any rate, im 
 proved his body, May the Lord grant that his mind 
 and heart have improved with his stature, as I little 
 doubt that they have, added the baron, looking at 
 me with the old, familiar and benign kindness, which 
 I so well remembered, and pressing my hand warmly, 
 which he had taken in his own. 
 
 " After returning the cordial pressure which he gave 
 me, I turned, and received the hearty congratulations 
 of the domestics who remembered me ; interchanging a 
 few words with all of them. 
 
 " While I was thus occupied, a young lady entered 
 the room. It was Bertha. 
 
 " Running towards me, she extended both her hands 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Dear William ! she began. 
 
 "Then she stopped. A rosy blush suffused her 
 cheeks, and the broad lids sank over her clear, blue 
 eyes. She was far more beautiful than my imagina 
 tion or memory had ever painted her; and the tender 
 confusion which had checked her utterance to the old 
 playmate who had grown almost out of recollection, 
 even added to her loveliness. 
 
 " Have you nothing else to say to the old fi-iend of 
 your babyhood, my child ? asked her father. 
 
 " She did not reply. As for myself let me own that 
 
MY FIRST DAY AT FIIEUDENSTADT. 2Go 
 
 a strange diffidence also held me speechless. Her 
 beauty, which I confess I had not expected to find so 
 exquisitely lovely, completely oppressed my sense, and 
 disabled me from finding a word. 
 
 " < And you, too, William ! Are you dumb ? jestingly 
 inquired the baron. 
 
 " Bertha, who had now recovered, lifted her face to 
 mine; and, stooping towards her, I pressed a timid 
 salute with my feverish lips upon her brow, without 
 uttering a word. 
 
 This produced a laugh from her father, who said 
 that he had rarely seen so cold a meeting between two 
 old playmates. The observation only added to our 
 mutual confusion. For myself, I was oppressed with 
 a deeper, yet more tender fear than any which I had 
 experienced in my past ten years of adventure. At 
 this moment the gallop of a horse was heard without 
 the castle. The next moment the hoofs of the animal 
 were heard in the castle court-yard, and a voice, which, 
 though now fuller and manlier in its tone, I well re 
 membered, and had remembered in every changing 
 Bcere of my Western life, rung on my hearing. 
 " Where is he ? 
 
 " It was the voice of Stanislas. My emb irrassment 
 tvas, for the moment, completely done away wi h. 
 Springing towards the doorway, forgetful at the in 
 stant, both of the baron and Bertha, I was the next 
 
264 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 minute embraced by the vigorous arms of the fino 
 young man, who had bounded up the stairs as I 
 emerged through the door. 
 
 "Can this be William, little William, he inquired, 
 this huge mass of bone, sinew, and muscle ? I shall 
 have to look to my own laurels as a sportsman, 
 when I follow the game with such a competitor near 
 me. 
 
 " While looking at him, I thought I had never seen 
 a nobler and more vigorous specimen of young and 
 hale manhood. His face was almost unchanged, save 
 for the tawny mustache which covered the upper 
 lip. The eyes danced wiih the same merry life, al 
 though somewhat soberer in their expression ; and his 
 frame was marked by the same athletic and noble pro 
 portions which distinguished that of his sire. Again 
 and. again we embraced. We each recalled a thousand 
 incidents of our childhood. He took me to his own 
 chamber, and showed me the trappings of the Indian 
 warrior, which I had sent him years since. These were 
 symmetrically disposed, in the form of a trophy, be 
 tween the two large windows at the end of the apart 
 ment. 
 
 " The chamber is locked up, said Stanislas, when 
 I am away from Wolfenstein. When here, I let no 
 one touch them but myself. The horse you sent me 
 was a noble animal. But he is dead, he added grave- 
 
MY FIRST DAY AT FREUDENSTADT. 
 
 265 
 
 1V . *He saved my life, and I rewarded him *ith a 
 tombstone at the place where he did so. 
 
 "On my inquiring into the particulars, it seei 
 that Stanislas had been hunting the wild boar, whilo 
 on a visit to some friends in Tlmringia, and had been 
 thrown from William s back (he had given the horse 
 my name), not by any fault of the animal, but by his 
 own, as he said. The boar, which lie had wounded 
 tore this with his rifle, made a charge directly- at him. 
 for the purpose of ripping him up with his tusks, when 
 the noble brute (I use the words Stanislas employed) 
 rushed between us, and endeavored to seize the boar 
 with its teeth. It was a vain attempt. The tusks of 
 the boar entered its sides. I, however, had now risen, 
 and with my lance avenged my brave preserver. As I 
 saw the dying look of love for its master in its eyes, I 
 could not help thinking, that, had my friend been with 
 me, he would have been to the full as ready to sacrifice 
 his life for mine. 
 
 "As I pressed the hand of Stanislas, he knew that I 
 
 would have done so. 
 
 "Great rejoicings were held that night by the farm 
 ers of the domain, over the lost friend (for so I might, 
 without impropriety, call myseli), who had "been found 
 
 again. 
 
 "After these were terminated, I sat up late, recount 
 ing the history of my various adventures to the baron 
 
266 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 and Stanislas, as well as to Bertha, who had petitioned 
 for permission to remain. Much as I was pleased by 
 my friend s interest, and his father s, in my narrative, 
 let me own that her breathless attention, and her tears 
 of pity, as I told them the various particulars of my 
 race for life from the Indians, were by far sweeter to 
 my feelings. When I at last retired to my chamber, I 
 must, indeed, frankly confess that my dreams were of 
 Bertha s blue eyes and the moisture which had dimmed 
 them, rather than of either of her male relatives." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 MY LOVE FOK BERTHA. 
 
 Ox the following day, I rode out to the chase \\ith 
 Stanislas, who was evidently somewhat curious as to 
 my actual skill as a marksman, and intended to test it. 
 
 "It were needless for me to recount how it was that 
 he did this, or to mention that he returned with me in 
 the evening, fully satisfied that the marksmanship of 
 the American prairies is, at any rate, fully equal to any 
 thing that can he done by the Swiss or the Tyrolese. 
 As for himself, he candidly owned that ho could not 
 compete with me. When I told him that I had seen 
 Lewis pass a hullet from his rifle through the eye of a 
 hawk, when at its full flight, some hundred yards .ibove 
 us, he told me, but that for my affirming it, he would 
 not have believed it. Let me say that I could scarcely 
 avoid laughing at his half incredulity. Yet it was very 
 natural. He had been used to see men fire whose lives 
 
 267 
 
THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 had not been spent with a rifle on their shoulders,- 
 men to whom the weapon was simply a recreation or 
 a bread-winner, not those to whom it has been for years 
 and years the only safeguard, and perhaps the only 
 true friend, those to whose hands it is as natural as 
 the pen is to the author, and the printed volume to the 
 student. 
 
 " Consequently, I did not reply to him. 
 ^ "When we returned to the castle, he was enthusias 
 tic in his praises of my skill; and as I saw Bertha s eyes 
 glisten when he spoke of my shooting, as something 
 marvellous, I began to encourage myself with the 
 hope that I might not prove to be so wholly beyond 
 the charming girl s affections. Indeed, an ambitious 
 dream had already awakened within me, which as yet 
 I scarcely dared to allow my anticipations to realize. 
 
 "Several days were given up by me to the pleasures 
 of my present condition. The presents furs, and 
 Indian curiosities of every class which I had brought 
 home with me arrived from Hamburg, and were offered 
 to the baron and Stanislas. The most valuable set of 
 furs I, however, reserved for Bertha. 
 
 "Although I felt somewhat diffident in offering thc.n 
 to her, she felt even more diffident in receiving them. 
 As I saw her blushes, in my own mind, 1 began to 
 believe that I was really not altogether an indifferent 
 object to her heart. 
 
MY LOVE FOR BERTHA. 
 
 269 
 
 "About two weeks after my return, the baron tooV 
 an opportunity to speak to me about my future, and 
 asked me what I intended to do. 
 
 "I told him that the Lord had abundantly prospered 
 my exertions in the New World, where I had accumu 
 lated a considerable fortune, and that it had been my 
 intention to settle down near my friends if I could find 
 an estate within my means. That at present this 
 would be dependent upon circumstances. Nursing a 
 hope which might very probably bear me no fruit, it 
 would be useless to count upon the future. Dearly as 
 I respected him and loved Stanislas, there was some 
 thing which I scarcely dared own to him. 
 
 " And what is that, William ? 
 
 "<I replied that I almost feared to tell him. 
 
 "If it is any thing which exclusively concerns your 
 self, he said, I feel so true an interest in your welfare, 
 that I almost believe that I have the right to demand 
 of you that you should tell me. 
 
 " Alas ! was my reply, it not only concerns me, but 
 yourself and Stanislas also, very nearly. 
 
 " Then, my boy, indeed, I may almost call you my 
 son, for such you are by affection if not by blood, I 
 have the right to know it. 
 
 " In my confusion, I told him how I had dared, 
 even in this short space of time, to learn to love 
 Bertha. I owned that I was aware he might dislike 
 
270 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 the humility of my extraction. < But, I added, with 
 something like pride, I have grown to manhood in 
 a land where a man s nobility is measured by the 
 stature of his own soul, rather than by his family 
 name. In America, the blood that makes nobility ia 
 out own. Perhaps I have acquired too much of the 
 feeling of the race of freemen with whom I have asso 
 ciated. You may not consider me worthy of receiving 
 the hand of one of your family, even though she may 
 love me. If so, let me go back to the prairie, the trap 
 per, and the Indian ; for there, at least, I shall move 
 amongst men who are only my equals. 
 
 " I had spoken hurriedly, although the baron had 
 several times attempted to interrupt me. But my love, 
 when it had for the first time found words, mastered 
 me. Truly, I had not known how overpowering it 
 was ; for until this moment I had scarcely had sufficient 
 courage to own it even to myself. When I had, at last, 
 come to a pause, the baron asked me in a somewhat 
 restrained, and, as I fancied, haughty manner, whether 
 I had yet spoken to his daughter. 
 
 " Certainly not, was my answer, as I drew myself 
 indignantly up to my full height. 
 
 " Then, if so, William, I can only say that you have 
 my full permission to do so whenever you may choose. 
 " Falling upon my knees, I passionately kissed his 
 hand. 
 
MY LOVE FOR BEtlTHA. 271 
 
 " Mind, he continued, I do not profess to be very 
 clever in reading the minds of women. Be certain of 
 one thing, and that is, although I would have chosen 
 you myself for her husband, as I know your nature to 
 be true and honorable, I will in no ways influence her, 
 A father has no right to wed his children according to 
 his fancy, although he would be perfectly right in re 
 straining them from forming an unworthy union. 
 
 "I thanked him again and again for his kindness, 
 and hurried away to seek for Bertha. 
 
 " My determination was, to avow my love to her im 
 mediately. It must, however, be owned, that, before 
 I met her, diffidence had again taken possession of me. 
 Indeed, three months elapsed before I ventured upon 
 speaking to her; and, had it not been for Stanislas, I 
 should scarcely then have presumed to do so." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MY MARRIAGE. 
 
 a AT last, owing, as I have already said, to the inter 
 position and good offices of my dear friend Stanislas, 
 who, not being the lover, but the brother, of Bertha, 
 felt no bashfulness whatever in the matter, the affair 
 was brought to a crisis. 
 
 "It was in the library of the castle, one morning. 
 He appealed to his sister to know what spell she had 
 thrown over me. 
 
 " * When William first came home, he said, c he was 
 a fine huntsman, a better shot than I am ; and no expo 
 sure or toil in the pursuit of game could weary him. 
 His life in the backwoods of America had made his 
 muscles hard and strong. His eye was as keen as that 
 of a fox, and his ankle as springy as the feet of the 
 chamois that I chased last autumn in the Tyrol. Now 
 he is slow, his voice has lost its joyous ring, and he 
 
 18 278 
 
274 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 seems to be always lost in a dream. Why, Bertha, 
 surely you are blushing. 
 
 "She protested that her brother was entirely mis 
 taken. 
 
 " Well, perhaps so. But what is the matter with 
 William, unless he should be in love ? Eh ! Why, Wil 
 liam is blushing, and so are you too. There is no 
 mistake about it this time. So, my good friends, I 
 will leave you to settle matters together ; for, really, I 
 am beginning to be heartily tired of two lovers who 
 do not seem to understand their own wishes. 
 
 " Saying this, he turned upon his heel, and rushed 
 out of the library. 
 
 " Bertha had reddened all over, and would have fol 
 lowed him. Perhaps I was blushing too, as Stanislas 
 had said. But if I was (and I honestly suspect lie had 
 but stated the truth), my timidity did not this time 
 prevent my taking advantage of the golden opportu 
 nity which he had made for me. 
 
 " Following Bertha, I caught hold of her hand, and 
 led her back, trembling and fawn-like, to the window 
 which she had just left. 
 
 " It would be useless for me to endeavor to recount 
 what passed between us, even were I disposed to do 
 violence to natural delicacy by attempting to describe 
 it in detail. I have felt no hesitation in putting into 
 writing the facts of my varied life in America, but luivc 
 
MY MAilRIAGE. 275 
 
 certainly no wish to remove the veil from the most 
 sacred and delightful hour I had ever known. Sudb 
 moments belong to ourselves. Nor are we required to 
 probe and examine them, when we are transcribing the 
 events in our biography for the casual reader s plea 
 sure. 
 
 "Sufficient will it be, if I say that my expressions of 
 true and fervent love were met by Bertha s tender 
 avowal of reciprocal affection ; and when Stanislas ap 
 peared, some three hours later, in the room, where he 
 said that he came to know whether we had yet settled 
 our differences of opinion, we were astonished to find 
 that we had been alone in each other s society more 
 than some twenty minutes. 
 
 " I told the baron, he continued, c that the two of 
 you were very deeply engaged in discussing a matter 
 of natural history. He consequently refrained from 
 passing his afternoon, as he usually docs, amongst his 
 books, and actually rode over with me to the new 
 plantation. 
 
 "Ere he had concluded, Bertha had run from the 
 library, and left me by myself to bear the kind-hearted 
 jests of my friend. I may safely say that these were 
 submitted to by me with a very good grace and pa 
 tience, which I may advance as an example to all who 
 have to endure a similar affliction. 
 
 "That evening I led Bertha to her father, and told 
 
276 THE PRAIRIE CRUSOE. 
 
 him, that, at last owing to the absence of bashfulness 
 on the part of Stanislas, I had dared to plead my 
 cause. 
 
 " And I see, he said, glancing at Bertha, that you 
 have been successful. I give her to you cheerfully. 
 You have been the architect, under the help of Provi 
 dence, of your own fortune. To you I confide her 
 happiness. 
 
 " On the following day, I had a long interview with 
 the baron, and told him precisely the condition of my 
 aflairs. 
 
 " By his advice, I decided upon purchasing the beau 
 tiful estate of Rednitz, which was then for sale, and 
 which adjoined that of Wolfenstein. The papers 
 transferring this property to me were made out some 
 three weeks later, after some little difficulty in arran 
 ging the terms of purchase with its then owner. 
 
 "Through the baron s credit at court, I also re 
 ceived the king s permission to bear the name of the 
 domain. 
 
 " It was in vain, however, that I begged the baron 
 lo allow me to wed my charming Bertha immediately. 
 
 "He decided that our marriage should take place 
 exactly one year after my return to my old friends, arid 
 insisted that, during the remaining months, I should 
 take up my residence upon my new estate. 
 
 "Nor would he give way in his decision, although 
 
MY MARRIAGE. 277 
 
 Stanislas added his entreaties to mine, and they were 
 strengthened by Bertha s timid silence. 
 
 " No, William. After giving up my child to you 
 in the future, I have the right to ask your forbearance 
 for the present, he said. She is very young; and 
 you are by no means in saying this, he laughed 
 * an old man. You can both of you very well afford 
 to wait. Besides, you will be able to see her every 
 day ; for what are eleven miles to such a daring horse 
 man and loving cavalier as you are ? 
 
 " So it was settled ; and it was only on the anniver 
 sary of my return, that the baron gave my darling to 
 me as my wife, and enabled me to call myself one of 
 the happiest ?s well as most fortunate of human be 
 ings." 
 
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